#Love myself sometimes a Y/N that can keep up with them

[kiruamon]

What the heart desires AU - Introduction

For everyone who maybe wants some more context for the au the explanation story starts after the first two sketches.

For you, music has always been like breathing. It felt so natural to have it in your life that you never questioned your love for it. Simply cherishing its existence with all your heart. You could still remember the time when, as a child, your little hands felt far too small for the many keys of your uncle's old piano, when he let you sit next to him while he played some of his favorite pieces. Sometimes you think you spent more time at his place rather than at home or with friends. Going through his books with all those notes that at first had felt like seeing a secret code, whispering to you to find out it's hidden meaning. Had it been anyone else, you might have wondered if your constant presence was bothersome. But now you believe that your uncle must have enjoyed having you around. To share his passion, even if you were just a little rascal and certainly not someone to have deep meaningful conversations with. And yet, whatever silly question had come to your mind and left your mouth, he would answer it for you in a way that even a child could understand. He was the one who told you how to read the notes - the secret code - in his books. How to move your fingers on the keys. Guiding you without pushing you and letting you just explore and enjoy your journey that took you deeper and deeper into this world of tunes and melodies with each year.

It had been heartbreaking when he passed away. Leaving you with his last gift. One you could never be grateful enough for as he left you his house with everything in it. Over the years, you have made the place more and more your own, while still leaving some things untouched, simply because they felt too nostalgic in a way that was comforting. It would feel… wrong to replace the old shelves full of sheet music and records in the study with different ones.

While your passion for music had simply grown, it wasn't too surprising when you made it into more than a hobby. It wasn't always easy. But you were certainly happy when you reached the point in your life where you could afford to live from what you loved so much. It wasn't so much about being heard or having a big audience. You just loved what you were doing and that was it. To put your very own feelings into each and every tune.

You never thought about what it would be like if you were unable to play again. To sit there in front of the row of black and white keys and not be able to lure out the melodies that resonated in your heart. But after the accident, your fingers were so stiff that it was frustrating to say the least. It was like seeing the goal right before you, but being unable to reach it since the doctors had explained to you that there was no way to fully recover your old flexibility.

Of course, you knew that it wasn't the end of the world per se, even though it felt disheartening. You could still enjoy music by listening to it. Make up your own tunes. Surely you could learn to compose with the help of a computer if you tried. But you missed playing yourself. It was different to play on a real instrument. And you felt sorry for not being able to use your old friend anymore. To fill the living room with whatever melody were resting in your heart and mind.

Truth be told, you were already at the point where you considered maybe trying to learn to play the piano with your feet, as your life once again took a… very curious turn of events. You had just finished preparing your afternoon tea when you heard the doorbell ring. Could be the mailman, was your first thought as you put down your cup and went out of the room to open the door. Only to find that it was definitely not the mailmen. The figures in front of you, towered tall in your doorframe. A smug grin plastered on their oddly shaped faces, revealing teeth that looked more like fangs to you than it would be normal for a human. Well… not that the two suspicious fellows in front of you looked much like humans to begin with. Horns, tails, their fingertips resembling claws. As silly as the thought seemed, the word demon popped into your head.

"Congratulations, Shooting Star! It's your lucky day. Since we have decided to give you the chance to become one of our costumers. All we need is a tiny bit of your time," said the figure on the left. Bright blue eyes on a yellow face, checking you out as if he was a cat and you his next meal, while his voice still sounded all smooth and friendly as if he was putting some extra effort into making it sound as unthreatening as possible. "We'll make it worth your while," a second voice chimed in. Sounding somewhat calmer than the energetic one of the yellow fellow with the two horns as two pairs of eyes were now directed at you.

You blinked. Finally feeling yourself able to move again. The stiff fingers of your right hand still curled around the doorknob, which you slammed shut tight the next moment. "Sorry, I'm not buying anything," you found yourself shouting through the closed door. Not sure what to do. Call the police? Or an exorcist? A priest? Or are you just seeing things? And what the hell would they even want from you? Was this some kind of Grim Reaper thing? Where you close to death and they had come to take you with them? Was that even how it worked? You still felt pretty much alive and well after all. Maybe it was just a very elaborate PR-promo of some company trying to sell some Halloween-themed items? At least it sounded more reasonable than the demon theory.

"Hey! Wait! Don't treat us like we are trying to sell you a cheap vacuum cleaner," you heard a desperate plead from the other side of your door. You thought it was the voice of the yellow-faced one. "Sun, stop it… You sound like a whining child." The comment was swiftly followed by an offended gasp. "What? I am not!" "Sheesh… just let me handle this." Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling quietly at the ongoing conversation outside. Could those guys really be demons? Maybe they were just some weirdos in very good costumes. Well… for some obscure reason, you found yourself not feeling so scared anymore. After all, it wasn't like they tried tearing down your door or anything crazy like that.

You carefully leaned your back against the heavy door. Allowing yourself to relax a little. "You should at least hear us out." Another attempt from outside. "Wouldn't you like to have your old life back? We can help with that." The implication of these words caught you by surprise. How did they… You can't help as to feel curious. Even if it might just be a trick to get you to listen to them. But it is one that works.

"Is it true? Can you really help me?" you ask. The door wide open again. Your eyes look up into the faces of the two guys in front of you. You see a dark glint in their eyes. Sparkling with satisfaction. "Piqued your interest, didn't we?" the one with the nightcap chuckles. A wry smile on his lips. Knowing full well that he has gotten through to you. "How about letting us in so we can have a nice little talk with each other?"

That was pretty much how you ended up sitting at your coffee table with two demons. Providing them each with a cup of tea as you were sitting in the armchair facing the couch on which they had settled down. Now that you'd had time to give them a closer look, you were convinced that they weren't just some guys in costumes. The proportions of these two wouldn't allow anyone to hide inside. You still feel a bit as if having a fever dream though. But you decided to just roll with it. "So…" you start, unsure of what to say as you place your hands in your lap. "…you two are… ?" you let the words hang in the air between the three of you. And thankfully, the lanky yellow one, who had let himself flop down into the large cushions of the backrest with one leg crossed over the other, is taking you up on your question.

"Exactly what you think we are," he says, his left arm resting on the backrest behind him. It gives him a rather casual, yet slightly dignified appearance in his form-fitting long red and black coat. If you had tried to sit like that, it would have come off as lazy. His right hand comes up, waving lightly through the air as he goes on, while your eyes can't help but stare at the sharp looking fingertips of his. They look like they could do some serious damage if they cut through anything other than air. "But let me introduce ourselves to you," he continues as the star shaped tip of his tail gently taps against the couch. "I am Sun. And this here to my left is my dear brother… " "Moon," the one you called Nightcap in your head finishes. Moon. Your eyes wander to him. You take in his face, which, with its darker right side and paler left, reminds you of a crescent moon. Unlike his brother Sun, you can only spot a single horn on his head. It's… funny. How they look alike and not at the same time. But yes, now that they have told you that they are brothers, it is hard not to see the resemblance.

"It's, uh… nice to meet you?" Hmm, not your best delivery. But you are still a bit unsure of what to make of all this. They don't seem too offended by your reaction. A small chuckle even leaves Moon's mouth before he brings the cup in his hands up to take a sip. "What a very polite one you are." His eyes almost seem to glint as he speaks to you, though it was hard to tell in the bright daylight streaming in through the window.

"Let me assure you, we are only here to offer our most sincere assistance to you," Moon continued. Suuuure… because demons were really well known for being all benevolent when it came to such things. Your knowledge might only come from movies and books, which certainly wasn't the best source to rely on, but your instincts were also telling you to better not take every word of theirs for granted. And yet… at least you wanted to hear them out. Not that you had much of a choice now that they were inside your house anyway.

You hummed nervously in thought. Considering his offer again, you looked down at your hands. Feeling the stiffness in your fingers more than ever in this very moment. Calm down. It wouldn't hurt to ask. You just had to be careful. "What exactly does it mean when you say you can help me? That I could get my old life back?"

The moment you ask, you can see their eyes lightening up even more. A hint of excitement in them that Moon knows better to hide as Sun does. But even Moon gets betrayed by the light flicker of his own tail as the crescent-shaped end swishes through the air like the pendulum of a metronome. "I am so glad you ask. Please, let me explain. Even though it is very, very simple. Even a human like you will be able to understand without any problems," Sun has taken over the conversation once more, which doesn't seem to bother his brother. With a grand gesture and in one single smooth movement, he stands up. Posing like an actor on a stage. Looking proud and as if he had been waiting for this moment to finally come. Which you didn't doubt was pretty close to the truth.

It's hard to not feel a tad amused despite the nature of this whole situation. For demons these two surely were… very different than anything you ever pictured those beings would be or act like. "In that case, please go on," you offer him politely, holding back a chuckle as you feel your shoulders relax more. You even reach for your own cup of tea. Making sure your fingers have a good grip on it before you lift it and take a sip while hearing him out.

Sun has set himself in motion. With two long steps, he walks around the table to stand closer to the patch of sunlight coming through the window, as if to set the stage for his 'great' explanation. "You see, me and my dear brother here have the power to grant you your heart's deepest desire. You want fame? To be back on stage? To be the one who comes up with tunes that can sway the hearts of billions? To be loved? Or maybe you want a body that never falls ill again? Which isn't as fragile as your current one? Whatever it may be. We can fulfill it for you. And all you have to do is make a tiny little deal with us."

That sounded… like a total scam. Never trust anything that sounds too good to be true, your mother had always told you when you were young. That, and not to trust TV commercials. But for now, you decided to amuse them to find out more. After all, you felt there was still some information missing. "A deal?" you asked Sun, who was watching you with the hungry eyes of a predator.

"Oh. Nothing big," he replies as if it wasn't anything too upsetting, while he slowly moved closer towards you. Letting you feel even smaller this time, when sitting there in your armchair and with him towering over you at full size. "You see. In exchange for your wish to come true, we need a little compensation. It's only fair. Something that would be considered an adequate exchange." Yeah… you kind of have a bad feeling by now. With how his blue eyes are piercing right through you. "And what would be considered… as something adequate?"

"Your soul, for example." Your… soul? You blink up at him. Well… that sounded very clichéd, you had to admit. And also interesting. So souls did exist? "You want my soul?" Sun grins, slowly backing away from you again as he straightens up and takes a step back. He puts one arm in front of his chest, while the elbow of the other rests on top of it. His index tipping lightly against his chin. "It is a very good deal. I doubt you will find a better one anywhere else," he says amused.

"But isn't a soul something that's really important?" you ask, a bit stunned. "It's not like you humans really know what to do with it anyway or do you?" Hearing Moon's calm but teasing voice suddenly right next to your ear, makes you almost spill your tea. You find yourself faced with a thin, playful grin when turning your head around. His arms are resting on the back of the chair as he looks down at you from behind it. When had he moved over here?

It takes you a moment to shake off your stupor. Well, perhaps he has a point. You are not sure what a soul is for. But… that doesn't mean it couldn't be a very important part of you to function, right? Similarly, if you didn't know how every little part in a car worked, you wouldn't just shrug it off if something was missing from the engine. You put the back of your head against the back of the armchair. Looking at Moon and Sun as you think about what to say. "It is true. I don't know anything about souls. But… I feel like this wouldn't be a very good deal." You feel nervous speaking so openly with them. Will they be angry now? Will they pressure you into giving in? But there is not anger in their eyes as they look down on you.

"Not a good deal, you say?" You feel how Moon shifts his weight. Reaching down for your hands that are holding much too tightly on to your cup. His clawed fingers work with great caution as they loosen your grip to take the cup away from you. He hands it to Sun before lifting your hand with his own to take a closer look. "Is it not your greatest desire to use these here again for what they were meant to do?" You feel called out. But still… that wasn't… it wasn't enough of a reason to give away your soul, was it? You can't help but look at your hand. Resting there in his. Being confronted once more with thoughts of what could have been, if they would fully work again. A deep sigh leaves your lips. Before you slowly pull your hand away, finding that he doesn't try to stop you from doing so. Of course you would love to play once more. To be able to fill the living room again with your own melodies.

But the risk simply seems too high. And you didn't want to end up with losing something that might be just as important as your hands. "Sorry. But I think it's not a very equal exchange. After all, even if I can't play with my hands anymore, it's not like my life is over. I can still enjoy music. I can still compose. And I don't really care for any extras like the whole becoming famous part. If we were talking about you wanting my voice that would be different, but I don't feel comfortable with giving away my soul," you admit with a sheepish smile on your lips. The silence that follows your words is a bit awkward and you are actually thankful when Moon breaks it.

"Hmmm… so you would consider your voice a fairer price if it meant your fingers could be restored?" Moon eyes you thoughtfully. As if he is taking your words seriously. "Moon! You are not actually considering such a half-baked deal, are you?" Sun sounds a bit more baffled by his brother's reaction. And you can see the two of them exchanging silent glances with each other. As if having a conversation that you are not able to hear since none of them is saying a word. You can't read much in Moon's face. But with Sun it's different. Disbelief and slight irritation turn to curiosity when he tilts his head before a smirk crosses his face. "You might be right," Sun says after a moment. Bringing his attention back to you. "Oh, you are such a lucky little human. We are willing to make a deal with you on your terms, my dear. Isn't that nice of us?"

Wait… what? His bright, fanged grin startles you less than his words. "My… my terms?" "Mhm. We will take your little voice and in exchange your hands and fingers will be as good as new." "Or is that still not good enough, even though you said so yourself?" Moon questions you, although it seems to be more rhetorical. As if he already knows your answer. And… this time he isn't that wrong about it. You find yourself actually willing to give in.

To give up your voice for the chance to play the piano again. The one thing you do actually want. For a price whose consequences you can understand much better. "No! I mean… yes… I think that would be fine for me."

So a few minutes ahead, you found yourself signing up a contract with two demons. Of course, after making sure there wasn't any hidden fine print in it - there wasn't - before you put your name on it. The process of signing the contract itself was surprisingly tame. There wasn't even the need for blood to seal the deal. No flickering lights or other creepy omens.

Moon and Sun seemed pleased when they read your signature, before Sun let the contract disappear with a little wave of his left hand that reminded you of those magicians from the shows you sometimes saw on TV as a kid.

"So. Any last words you want to say?" Sun asks you teasingly. Which could have sounded like a threat, if it wasn't for the fact that they would take your voice - and as they had promised you, this would happen without harming you in any way. So you felt only slightly nervous as you thought about it. "Oh, right. I guess it is the last chance for that, isn't it? So… uhm… thank you. Both of you," you find yourself smiling like an idiot. A bit too excited perhaps for someone who was about to lose their voice. But you don't care. Not when you know what you will gain for it instead. "O-okay. I'm ready. We can start."

"Good. Then just stay still and let us do the rest, Shooting Star." Each of the two took one of your hands into theirs. Holding them with great gentleness as if they were tiny little birds. You still remember how you heard them chanting something in a foreign language. How their voices had sounded when they built up to a harmony as they had fallen in sync with each other. The whole process couldn't have lasted much longer than a minute, but it felt longer. As if time had been stretched in some strange way. A shiver ran through your body. Building up to an ice-cold feeling in your throat as your fingers had clumsily tried to hold on to Sun and Moon's hands, whose fingers had curled around your own. And then it simply had been over. Just like that. No more chanting. The odd feeling gone as you looked at them. You were trying to say something only to find yourself unable to. Your voice was truly gone. Which, despite the fact that you knew it was going to happen, was only now really starting to sink in. It had worked… so… did that mean?

"Speechless?" Sun jested as he let out a little laugh. Lifting your left hand up and giving it free. The action mirrowed by his brother Moon. "You should give them a try, don't you think?" Moon looked at you. Waiting. You felt your heart leap as you slipped out of their grasp. Staring at your fingers in disbelief before swallowing the fear and doubt of what if it hadn't worked. Slowly you start moving your fingers. Stretching them. Wiggling them in every possible direction, one after the other, like you hadn't been able to since the accident. You almost cried as they moved again with such ease. They were doing exactly what you wanted them to do. You could play again! Gosh… you really didn't have to give up your love for the piano.

It was hard to tear off your eyes from your hands in order to look at Sun and Moon with an immense joy. Even if you couldn't voice it anymore. "I assume the outcome matches what you have wished for?" You nod your head at Moon's question eagerly. Giving the two of them each a thumbs up. It's hard to stop smiling like an idiot as you grin from ear to ear, which seems to amuse them. "Very well. In that case, we will take our leave. We still have other places to be. Take good care of yourself, little human." "Maybe we will check in on you another time. Just to make sure, you are doing well, Shooting Star," Sun says with a big grin as his tail bobs up and down.

You escort them back to the door. Waving at the entrance of your home as the two demons already make their way to the sidewalk. Actually, you are not minding the idea too much to maybe see them again sometime after what they had done for you today.

-

"Do you think it will work?" Sun throws a questioning look at Moon. Even though he had agreed to go along with his brother's plan. "Just give it some time. They will soon miss their silly little voice. And then they will beg us to get it back." There is no doubt in Moon's voice. A mischievous grin on his face. Pleased with his own plan that could be nothing else than absolutely foolproof. "And when they do so... " "They will have to give us their soul to get it back," Sun finishes his sentence with a chuckle. "How long do you give them, Moonie?" "A naive little thing like them? Two weeks at most."

-

How? How in the name of the damned could you be so content with your current life? He had given you two weeks at max. And yet, even after three months, you still hadn't changed your mind in the slightest. Three months in which his patience was running thin. Three months consisting of visiting you multiple times a week to see if you felt the tiniest bit inconvenienced by your lack of voice. But no! Nothing! Instead, you used a stupid text-to-speech app on your phone or scribbled your answers in a notebook for him and Sun to read. And you even had started visiting a class to learn sign language. It was beyond him how you could be so happy with your new life. He let out a huff as he sat next to Sun in your living room that had grown much too familiar to them. The smell of freshly baked cookies hit his nose as he glanced at his brother who already helped himself to the baked goods while you filled their cups with some hot tea like the good host you always were. "Moon. Relax." Relax? How should he relax when they hadn't made even the tiniest bit of progress in three damn months? He throws a warning glance at Sun. Keeping his voice low so you wouldn't catch onto their conversation. "If you tell me to relax one more time, I swear I will strangle you." Was he being unfair and moody? Yes. But he didn't get how Sun could care so less over how slowly things progressed. "I think you are forgetting that we don't come here just so you can stuff yourself with cookies." Sun paused at that. Looking at third chocolat chip cookie he already had taken a bite off before avoiding Moon's stern gaze as if feeling called out and somewhat flustered before trying to regain his composure. "D-don't be silly, Moonie. Of course I know. But I fear, we are stuck in a long game now. And I am working very hard right now." Hard working? That's what he called this? "... eating cookies and sipping tea is not hard work Sun... ," he grumbled annoyed. "That's where you are wrong. I am building up trust with our little Shooting Star. And in doing so I will surely unravel another weakness or desire of theirs for us to use." Hmph... Sun better wasn't making that up. Because, he didn't felt fully convinced whenever seeing his brother's eyes spark up like a child's when there were some homemade sweets on the table.

- "Is everything alright? Anything I can get you two?" The artifical voice was coming from your phone after you had entered your question in the app and clicked on it to read the text out loud. With an innocent smile you looked at Sun and Moon. You don't think they have been aware how their conversation had stopped to be just a whispered back and forth between them shortly after it had started. So... you kind of have heard most of it even when you pretended that you didn't. After all... you pretty much enjoyed their visits that had become such a constant of your life. Their silly bickering and plans to get your soul never failed to brighten up your day. Sun's happy face when he was nibbeling on a cookie or piece of cake. Moon's mostly calm but sometimes grumpy scowls. It all made your house feel so much more lively. And you found yourself wishing for those days to never end.

- Ooooooooookay. That was the introduction part for this au. But, but, but, but, buuuuuut you get two more random, little bonus stories and sketches from this au. One for each of the boys. So please enjoy:

He was right above you. Pinning you down with his hands and knees between him and the couch. You felt trapped and guessed it was pretty much what he wanted to achieve. His thin neck was bent so that his face was close to yours as Sun's pretty blue eyes stared right into yours. His white and slitted, cat-like pupils still fascinated you whenever you saw them, and you murmured a silent pretty under your breath. "Hm? Did you say something?" he teased you with a grin. You doubted he knew exactly what you had said, and he confirmed your hunch right the next second. "Maybe asking me to stop? Too bad you dropped your phone so you can't tell me, hm?" Sun was clearly having his fun with you.

And honestly, you didn't minded the situation you were in too much. Although you weren't sure if he was trying to make you feel uneasy or straight up flirted with you. Perhaps both? You tried to keep a straight face for the moment. Not to grin, not to let your true feelings betray you. A clawed hand lifted your chin rather gently. "You have been veeeeery stubborn lately, Little Star. Declining all the things we offered you for your little soul. And yet nothing seems to catch your interest. But no human can always be satisfied. Your kind tends to constantly desire something."

You simply shrug your shoulders at his comment. "Pfffh, don't give me a 'I don't know'. Fixing your hands can't be the only thing you wanted in your life." Well, sure. But everything else isn't really something worth trading your soul for you thought. "I wonder what desire will bloom next in that heart of yours." Okay, now you do crack a tiny smile. It's funny how none of them seemed to have catched on to what you recently felt for these silly guys. You are staring right at him as you raise your hands to his face. Playfully you tug on one of his triangular rays, which causes him to fall completely silent. Sun looks down at you as a hint of red appears on his cheeks. "W-what do you think you a-are doing?" How cute. You chuckle without creating a single noise and gaze at him with an amused but tender expression. Your hand wanders further up until you are able to give him a few soft pats on the head, right between his horns, which only seems to irritate him more.

"H-hey! Quit it! I-I'm not a dog!" he complains with a half-hearted snarl. Well, that is true. Perhaps you should make it up to him. You pause for a moment to consider your next action. And then you curl your fingers carefully around his horns to pull him closer down towards you. "H-hey. I said to stop your foolery or… or I… " He falls dead silent when you place a small peck on his forehead. Sun doesn't move at all. Making you almost worry that you might have ended up breaking him by accident. But then you see a bright flickering glow coming from the tip of his tail behind him. Huh… maybe he just really liked it? Sun is still half frozen in place from the audacity of your actions. His blue eyes are wide open in shock as his yellow face turns even redder from the evident blush on it. His mouth opens and closes a few times as he pulls his head a bit up again. He looks so flustered and yet… there is a gleam in his eyes as he slowly inches closer. Looking as if he is about to kiss you any given moment.

He is only inches away when you see a shadow behind him. A hand grabs him by the back of his collar and pulls him away from you. "Sun! God dammit. Can't I let you two out of my sight for two minutes?" Moon throws an annoyed look at Sun and then down at you. "I swear, you two are worse than a couple of lovesick teenagers." You feel your ears warm up a tad at that remark, but you can't help yourself as you grin from ear to ear like a fool. "I was just trying to tempt the human into giving us their soul! I would never fall for them," Sun utters his excuse a touch too fast, as his voice climbs up a few pitches. It sounds not very convincing at all. "Urgh. Sure," Moon says with a deep, troubled sigh, as if he was bothered to be stuck here all alone with you two idiots. "And you," he says as he looks at you once more with a firm expression on his red and white eyes. "Stop teasing my brother. You are just making it worse."

Second bonus Story:

"How can someone lack any sense of self-preservation? It's frustrating, to say the least." Moon scolded you. Holding one hand over your face. Covering up your eyes with his large hand. Your not sure why but his odd metal-like skin always felt a little more chilly than Sun's. And yet his touch was as careful as one could be. Overly gentle as the tips of his claws rested against your soft human skin. As long as you held still, you knew you wouldn't end up with any scratches, even if he sounded all grumpy he rarely raised his voice ever.

"We are demons. Actual demons. If you toy around with us, we might forget our manners." Sometimes it's hard to tell if he's worried about you or just annoyed at how casual you interact with them. You know you have grown bolder with time. Pretending the affection you show them sometimes is just a way to tease them when it's actually the other way around. But honestly, you can't help it. And you can't help thinking that Moon as well as Sun have both become rather dear to you. Both of them holding a special place in your heart. Not that you have let them know or will so anytime soon. You lift your hands. Giving his arm a soft tap with your fingers to catch his attention.

"Hm? What is it?" Ah, seems like that had done the trick. You start slowly signing a few words. Hoping he might be able to tell them apart, even with the odd angle he has to look at them. Good that Moon and Sun are both very fluid in all kinds of languages. Including this one. "Urgh. Of course you would say that," he grumbles and it makes you chuckle a bit, even though no sound leaves your lips. You open your eyes. Trying to catch a glimpse of his face through the narrow gaps between his fingers, but instead you get a soft smack against your forehead, which only makes you laugh even more. "Don't laugh! I really should set your head straight. Something is clearly wrong in there. Seriously… you are… so… ," he falls silent and you wonder why. When you try to grab his hand to shove it away, he only presses it closer against your eyes. "…don't look. Not yet," he says, his voice usually so calm and collected carrying a hint of embarrassment, so you just let your fingers rest on the back of his hand as you close your eyes again. You don't mind letting the moment play out a little longer as you listen to the sound of your fluttering heart that tells you how much you love them both. -

So. That's mostly it! Just have a random fun headcanon-fact here at the end: Y/N will refer to Sun and Moon sometimes as his 'Silly Goose Boys' as time progresses. Mostly for all their shenanigans and because of their bendy/flexible long necks.

I hope whoever made it til here had fun with this post.

[rafelandia]

Two Babies (dad!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: angst, mentions of smut, pregnancy

Summary: Y/N is pregnant again before she’s ready.

Author's Note: Hello! Please enjoy my first Rafe one shot. I would love to expand on this couple so if you have any requests or any blurbs you'd like me to explore, please send me a message! As always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated - it helps more than you know. Happy reading :)

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite tiny human,” the pediatrician chimed as she kicked the door to the small examination room shut with her sneaker.

“You must say that to all of the parents that you see,” Y/N blushed, unable to hide the smile that tugged on the corners of her lips.

“I do, but this is one of the rare times when I actually mean it. Those blonde curls! Are you freakin' kidding me?”

She padded over to the miniature exam table to get a better look at the infant that was lying contently on her back and chewing on her pudgy albeit still tiny fingers. 

“Let’s take a look at how you’re doing, sweet pea.”

The doctor, Melanie, lifted the stethoscope that was looped around her neck and placed it into her ears. Listening to the baby’s heartbeat to check for any abnormalities, she couldn’t help but give a sympathetic frown when the tiny girl under her tensed up from the cool touch of the metal.

“Nurse’s notes say she’s put on quite a bit. She’s finally caught up to her age group in weight. I’m assuming breastfeeding is going better for you both now?”

Melanie lovingly squeezed the extra chub around the baby girl's thighs.

“Yeah. We don’t really use bottles anymore. Finally got her to latch on and now it seems like all she wants to do it eat,” Y/N chuckled.

“Good! That’s good. There’s nothing wrong with formula like we talked about, so don't overexert yourself if becomes too demanding. Breastfeeding is cheaper though," Melanie chucked, though in her head she was kicking herself. As if this family is in any need to save money. "Is she hitting the milestones? Rolling over? Propping her head up? Babbling a bit?” she continued.

“Babbling, definitely. She keeps us up sometimes because we can hear her talking to herself through the monitor at night,” Y/N poked her tongue out at her daughter in an attempt to get her to smile.

“Having a bit of trouble propping herself up though. She can only do it for a little bit and then she’ll give up. She’s got Rafe's big head, so I’m sure it’s a bit of a struggle.”

Melanie laughed loudly at the mention of her patient’s father, admiring Y/N's wittiness even in the absence of her husband. Given the reputation of the Cameron family, others might think the couple were all work and no play, but Melanie had the privilege of getting to know them behind closed doors. While they took doctor's visits seriously, always paying close attention to what the doctors and nurses had to say regarding the health of their firstborn, her experience with the Cameron's changed her outlook completely. Y/N and Rafe were warm, welcoming, and quite funny sometimes - always making jests at each other or sharing little tid-bits of what their life is like at home. She wished everyone could see them this way. Melanie really wasn't lying when she doted on the little girl, they were the best.

“She’ll get to it eventually. All babies are different. She seems to be coming along quite nicely, though. Nothing abnormal or anything to fuss about. A perfectly healthy six-month-old in my book.”

Y/N sighed in relief, though she knew there was nothing to worry over to begin with.

“How’s mum doing? You taking care of yourself, too? You’re just as important as baby.”

“When I can. Rafe's really good with her. He’ll take over when he sees me struggling, but it seems like she only wants me these days. Think I might be coming down with something, though. I’ve been feeling awful for a few weeks. Like I got hit by a train. I keep reminding myself to go get checked out, but I always get distracted taking care of her,” Y/N gestured to her daughter that was now drooling onto the parchment liner and staring up at the ceiling as if there was something ornately interesting about the popcorn texture that had been stippled onto it.

“When you say, ‘hit by a train,’ what do you mean? I can examine you here if you’d like. As long as it’s nothing serious, I can send you something off to the pharmacy.”

Melanie re-fastened the snaps on the infant’s onesie, making sure not to pinch her chunky legs and placed her back into her mother’s lap.

“Ummm,” Y/N began, “Just extra drained, I guess? Kinda nauseous. I’ve been getting migraines a lot and even when I do get a good night’s rest, I still feel like I could go back to bed for the rest of the day. Maybe I’m just exhausted, I don’t really know. But it just feels a bit different than being worn out like I have been before.”

She could see the wheels in Melanie's head turning, noting each of her symptoms and trying to align them in a path that would lead her to the root of the problem.

“Can I ask you something that might be a bit personal?”

Y/N nodded, rubbing her fingers absentmindedly along the bridge of her daughter’s socked foot.

“Have you and Rafe been intimate since she was born?”

She was taken aback by the question, not understanding where Melanie was going with this or why it was relevant.

“Umm,” Y/N stuttered, feeling a static-y surge of embarrassment travel up her neck and onto the sides of her face, “Yeah. We have.”

A whole fucking lot ever since I’ve been cleared for it, Y/N thought, but kept to herself.

“And can you tell me when your last menstrual cycle ended?”

Then it clicked. She genuinely couldn’t recall her most recent period and even the thought of what Melanie was alluding to made her stomach twist into thousands of tiny knots.

“I- I don’t know. I’ve been so busy with her I don’t even really think about what’s going on with me half of the time.”

Y/N tried to make excuses, anything to avoid the obvious, but judging from the quizzical look on her daughter’s pediatrician’s face, she knew exactly where this was going.

“There’s no way,” she whispered, “I can’t be.”

Melanie's face dropped, now tender and apologetic when she realized that this was news Y/N was not ecstatic to hear.

“I know I’m a pediatrician, so that’s obviously the first thing my mind goes to, but can we at least get you to take a blood test? That way we’ll know for sure?”

//

Rafe came home to a quiet house. It wasn’t unusual, but seeing as it was well after six o’clock in the evening and his wife wasn’t in the kitchen making the pasta dish she'd been dying for all week was. Their grocery store had been out of her favorite canned tomatoes for over a week and she’d nearly tackled Rafe to the ground out of excitement when he’d come home from the grocery store with them the night before. Had he not seen her car in the driveway, he probably wouldn’t have even suspected her to be home.

He checked the living room first, and it was desolate apart from the baby pink, quilted playmat on the floor that was littered with a few of his daughter’s favorite rattles and teethers. Y/N's coat and purse were abandoned haphazardly on the couch, almost as if she tossed it aside in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Baby?” Rafe called out.

Nothing.

His head peaked into the nursery, stealthily and quietly in preparation to walk in on his daughter taking her scheduled nap before her actual bedtime. He’d gotten good at hushing his footfalls to almost complete silence as to not wake her, having made that mistake more than a handful of times. 

And he was right. There she was, sprawled out in her crib with her arms outstretched over her head like a tiny starfish. Her chubby cheeks were smushed against her bicep, drawing her lips open the tiniest bit so that Rafe could see the tops of her fleshy, pink gums and the barely-there nub of her first tooth peeking through. More than anything, he wanted to wake her up - lift her from the plush mattress and cuddle her close, shower her with kisses and tickle her with his scruff to hear those baby squeals he adored so much, but he needed to find Y/N first.

She had to be in their bedroom, he thought to himself. Maybe she was taking advantage of their baby girl napping to also get some rest. She had been rather exhausted lately. Maybe she’d had a rough day and was relaxing in the clawfoot, porcelain bathtub that had been the selling point of the home they now lived in. The houses on Figure Eight were lavish, but not all of the bathtubs were - at least that's what Y/N told Rafe. Who was he to question his bride?

Turns out he was right again. Like he had done with the nursery, he held the metal doorknob tightly in his grip to keep the hinges from creeking and pressed it open gently. The room was completely dark, but he could make out the lump underneath the duvet on their king-sized bed as his wife. 

Good. She was sleeping. 

He padded across the hardwood floor, still being as quiet as he could until he crossed the threshold of the bathroom. There, he rid himself of the uncomfortable clothes he’d been wearing all day. Curse these professional business meetings that forced him to dress nicely. 

All throughout the meetings, he wanted nothing more than to be home with his wife and baby, cuddling the afternoon away and watching shitty reality television while his daughter cooed and grunted and gurgled in her baby voice that he loved so much and could listen to all day. He wasn't always this way - he used to love this shit, but something inside him changed indefinitely when his daughter was born. Rafe was a softy now and he wasn't afraid to admit it. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been having to partake in these boring work meetings a lot more lately, which caused him to miss even the smallest aspects of his everyday life like changing diapers or checking the baby monitor eight hundred times throughout the day to make sure his daughter was still breathing. Perhaps he’d just been getting sentimental because she was growing so much these days, but it was an unpleasant feeling nonetheless.

His thoughts were interrupted when he deposited his heavy watch into the dish he kept on the counter and he heard a quiet yet still prominent sniffle among the clattering of metal against the glass dish.

“Baby? You awake?” Rafe peaked his head out from beyond the bathroom door. 

He saw her body shift under the covers, but she gave no response. So he called out again.

“You sick or something? Can hear you sniffling."

Nothing.

Pivoting back around to the inside of the bathroom, he quickly shut off the light and carried himself over to her side of the bed where he could see her properly. Her face was tucked into her chin and all that was visible to him was the top of her head.

“Hey,” Rafe cooed, petting what he could reach of her hair and speaking even gentler than he had been, “What’s wrong?”

And that’s when he heard it - an almost inaudible choking sound of Y/N trying to catch her breath that immediately let him know she wasn’t sick. She had been crying.

“Whoa, baby,” he was already pulling the covers back with force, honestly not caring whether or not she minded the intrusion.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

She was emotionless when he saw what little he could her face, her puffy, bloodshot eyes and swollen lips illuminated by the hallway light being the only indicator that she was upset. She didn’t even react to Rafe tugging her head out from where it had been buried in the covers, simply rolling onto her back to stare idly at the ceiling.

“Y/N,” he called for his wife again, this time much more stern, “You’ve got to talk to me.”

She took several deep breaths through her nose, allowing her lungs to fill to their maximum capacity before exhaling with a sigh. Rafe could have sworn she was sucking all of the oxygen out of the room along with his patience each time she did so. 

After what felt like ages, she parted her lips to speak.

“I went to the doctor today.” 

“Yeah? For the six-month check up, right?” Rafe asked, not seeing why that was important but his mind quickly went to the worst scenario possible despite having just seen his daughter sleeping peacefully in her crib. He cut his eyes towards the hallway in the direction of her nursery before looking back to Y/N.

“Is she alright?” his voice now demanding urgency in the delivery of her response.

“She’s fine,” she quickly dismissed him, internally kicking herself for making Rafe worry.

“I was telling Melanie about how sick I’ve been lately and she -,” Y/N gulped and rubbed her knuckles against her tired eyes, bracing herself for whatever events unfolded after she said what she was about to say.

“She, umm. She made me take a pregnancy test.”

Now it was Rafe turn to be speechless. He stared at her with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly agape. His palms suddenly felt clammy against the white sheets that they rested on and his stomach felt like it had turned in on itself from how badly it was churning. Of all of the things he had expected to be wrong with her, this was certainly the last on the list. 

“And?” he asked after what felt like an eternity of staring at her and saying absolutely nothing, though he already knew the answer.

“Ten weeks.”

Silent tears now spilled over her eyes and down past her temples. She couldn’t even be bothered to wipe them, instead letting them dampen a small patch of hair on either side of her head. Pregnancies weren’t supposed to be sad, but somehow, she had barely been able to stop crying since she left the pediatrician’s office.

“How,” Rafe whispered, moreso to himself than to her.

“I think you know how babies are made, Rafe” Y/N quipped.

“That's not what I meant,” Rafe fired back just as quickly, “It’s just...She’s still so little.”

He thought of his daughter asleep in the next room. She was the most perfect thing he’s ever seen and on the day that she was born, he knew he wanted nothing more than to fill his and Y/N’s house with as many blonde, chubby babies as he could fit beds in each room. He just hadn’t expected that his only child’s first birthday present would be the gift of being a big sister. 

It was all too sudden.

“I just don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. I mean,” Y/N raised her arms above her head before huffing and letting them fall to her sides, “I guess I was just so caught up with the baby that I hadn’t even had a second to think about what’s going on with me. It’s like I don’t even matter anymore and I-”

“Hey, hey now. Don't do that,” Rafe shushed her and curled up next to her frame as she began to sob.

He tucked her head into his neck, hugging her chest tightly as if he was trying to hold the pieces of her together before she shattered. His mind was running a mile per minute. It killed him to see her like this, killed him to be in this situation. The last time they had found out this news, there were happy tears - tears of shock and excitement about taking the next step in building a family. Never had he imagined that the next time they were presented with the very same news, that there would be tears of sadness.

Her voice was muffled against his now wrinkled button-down, but he could still make out what she was saying beneath her blubbers.

“I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean, honey? Of course you can. I can take more time off work like last time and let the boys handle everything for a bit. I know it's not ideal, but we’ll be alright,” he ran his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to soothe her.

“That’s the problem, Rafe.”

He lifted his chin from here it was resting on the top of her head to look down at her.

“What?”

“It's not ideal. You've only just now gotten back to work full time. You said everything almost fell apart while you were gone. It would fuck everything up. Plus, she's only six months old, Rafe. I can't go through that again so soon."

Rafe paused to break away from her and sit up straight against the headboard, “Are you serious? Of course I can take more time off work. You are more important than anything that could possibly be going on at the office.” He was a bit stunned by her words. She almost sounded annoyed, which didn't sit quite right with Rafe.

“But do you see what’s happening? Everything is fucked.”

His voice wasn’t so calm anymore.

“No, Y/N. I honestly don’t. I mean I know this is all happening much earlier than we expected, but what else is there to do? Will you please tell me what you're getting at, because I’m starting to get upset.” 

Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin, straight line and his nostrils flared with every breath. Why was she being like this? 

“I don’t know what I’m fucking getting at. I’m just overwhelmed."

“And you think I’m not? I'm trying my best to keep it together for your sake if you haven’t noticed,” it almost condescending the way the words rolled off his tongue.

“Oh, excuse me,” Y/N laughed sarcastically.

“Didn’t realize you were the one that's pregnant. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to grow all big and gross and swollen and be in pain every fucking day to the point where walking to the bathroom feels like a fucking marathon. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to feel like you're burning alive from the inside out for hours and then just have to lay there while a doctor you’ve never seen before stitches you up because it literally tore your insides apart. Didn’t realize you-”

“For fuck’s sake, I get it!” Rafe was yelling now. They hadn't argued like this since they were much younger, and he absolutely hated it.

“It’s not the same and I’m sorry for suggesting that it was. I'm not sure what you want me to say though. I’m sorry? Is that it? Sorry for getting you pregnant? Sorry for having a job that helps us get anything we want for ourselves and our family? Sorry that I do everything I possibly can to keep you and the baby and everyone else on the fucking planet happy?”

“You’re being an asshole, Rafe,” she was just as angry as he was, scowl evident on her face even in their dimly lit bedroom.

“And you’re not making any fucking sense! Are you telling me you don’t want to keep it? Because I never fucking said that you have to.”

The thought had crossed her mind on the drive home from the doctor’s office, but the feeling left as quickly as it approached. She’d taken one look at her daughter in her car seat through the rear view mirror happily sucking on her teether and knew without a doubt that she couldn’t.

She felt a tidal wave of fresh, salty tears peaking and about to crash over her.

“I don’t want - fuck,” she put her head in her hands. 

“I just-,” and then she broke.

Sobs wracked her body, making her shoulders shake up and down. She wasn’t even sure how she had any more left to get out, but it just kept coming. Over and over and over again until it felt like she was being suffocated and that no one was going to save her. She felt Rafe's hands move to rest on her shoulder blades and heard gentle, cooing-like sounds coming out of his mouth, but she couldn’t make out what he had said over the sounds of her own wailing.

“Baby, it’s okay. Just breathe. It’s alri-”

His attempt at subduing her was cut short by shrill cries coming from the digital monitor that sat on their nightstand. Rafe peeked over his shoulder at the screen, seeing that their daughter had woken from her nap and was now demanding the attention of her parents. He couldn’t help but wince as he watched her socked feet flail around in the crib; it was without a doubt that the screaming match they’d just had that stirred her from her sleep, and that hurt him just as much as it did to see his wife crying right in front of him.

Y/N heard it too, somehow. Perhaps it was because she’d been trained to react to every minute sound that she made and could recognize her cries from a mile away in the paralyzing fear that something was wrong with her or maybe it was because she looking for any and every excuse to get Rafe's hands off of her so she could get away from him and escape the argument they’d just had without making the situation any worse than it already was. Regardless, she turned her own neck to peer at the monitor and sighed heavily.

“I’ll go, Y/N. Just stay here.”

“No. I got it. It’s after seven. She’s probably hungry.”

She shrugged Rafe's hands away from her shoulders like his touch physically pained her and climbed over his body and off the bed without another word, not even giving Rafe the chance to take her hand and help her over the edge of the mattress. He knew she wasn’t going anywhere but down the hall and into the nursery, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was walking away from everything.

//

Y/N stared her daughter while she nursed. She started from the top of her head that was riddled with sandy blonde curls and worked her way down to the tips of her toes that would occasionally flex themselves out of habit. Her hair? Undoubtedly Rafe's. Her eyes? A perfect, entrancing shade of blue akin to Rafe's. Her lips? The same almost inhuman shade of fleshy pink, just like Rafe's. Surprisingly, the only physical trait she’d inherited from her mother was her nose, which was funny considering that Y/N had always hated hers.

She was content, suckling away at Y/N’s breast - her cries of hunger long forgotten. The infant hadn’t even flinched when a few more of Y/N’s silent, cold tears spilled over and left small wet spots where her onesie rested over her belly. She had no idea that her parents were upset with each other and she had no idea that in a little more than six months time, she’d be a big sister and there would be two babies fighting for their attention. Y/N was also clueless, but only as to how she was going to take care of a newborn and a one-year-old simultaneously. She’d always thought she’d have more time than this - more time to spend with just her daughter and Rafe before they decided to have another, but just like her eyes, things always had a funny way of never working out in her favor.

Three soft knocks on the wall withdrew her from her thoughts and she was greeted by her husband idling in the doorway like he needed permission before entering a room in his own house. It was off seeing Rafe Cameron this way - being the one with his tail tucked beneath his legs. It was usually the opposite. He had changed out of his work clothes and was now clad in his favorite pair of sweats that were permanently stained with spit-up. Y/N had tried everything under the sun to get the spots out, but he’d been persistent on not throwing them out.

“Can I come in?”

His voice was barely above a whisper and much calmer than when he’d been yelling at her about twenty minutes ago. He still hesitated crossing the threshold even after Y/N had given him a skeptical nod, but allowed his bare feet to pad over the plush carpet as he joined her on the loveseat in the far corner of the nursery.

He watched their daughter just as Y/N had, taking in her tranquil state as her fingers brushed reflexively against the underside of Y/N’s breast. He’d never been able to pry his eyes away every time he watched her nurse. There were no ulterior motives behind it whatsoever. It amazed him each and every time, how Y/N was able to provide their child with everything that they needed to grow with only her body. At first, Y/N hated that Rafe loved sitting in on her feedings, feeling exposed and unattractive despite Rafe's continuous affirmations that it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the privilege of witnessing, but over time she’d grown fond of it.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you,” Rafe started.

“It was uncalled for,” she quipped.

Y/N sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes with the back of her free hand that wasn’t supporting her daughter’s back as she held her.

“It’s okay. It was a lot to take in. I’m sorry for yelling at you too.”

She couldn’t quite look him in the eye just yet, but she was slowy but surely getting there.

“It's not okay, actually. You’re right. I’m not the one having the baby. It’s you that’s got to do all the hard stuff and I know how scary it was last time. I should've been more considerate before jumping the gun.”

He shifted towards her on the cushions, afraid to touch her just yet but still yearning to be closer to her.

The best Y/N could muster was a quiet, “Thank you,” before she busied herself by attempting to run her fingers through her baby’s hair and untangle the mess she’d created while she was sleeping.

“Can I hold you? Please?” his voice was quiet and pleading.

Now was when she turned to face him and she was met with eyes that were just as red-rimmed as hers. She had heard the bathroom sink running for an abnormally long amount of time and a hard, frustrated pounding against the wall shortly after she’d gone off in the nursery to feed the baby, which meant he must have been trying to muffle the sounds of his own crying when she left their bedroom.

Y/N didn’t say anything, only shifting her weight onto one side so Rafe could easily lift her onto his lap in one swift movement without disturbing their daughter. He tucked her shoulder into his neck and softly kissed her skin and his hands moved to mimic hers so they were both holding the baby that was nodding off again in their arms. She found herself relaxing into his loose grip, her head tilting to the side to rest against his. 

“I love you so much. You know that? I’d drop everything for you if I had to. I don't care about any of it anymore.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she refuted, but there was no malice in her tone.

“I wouldn’t let you. You try to play it cool and I know that things are different now, but I also know that deep down you really like what you do.” The corner of Rafe's lips turned upwards, suppressing a chuckle at the fact that she really does know him that well.

“Well, just know that I would if you wanted me to. I’ve thought about it a thousand times. I want to be here for you. For her. Don’t want to miss anything. I finally got my shot at being normal when I met you and I hate myself sometimes when I think about all of the bullshit I've put you through.”

“Don’t,” Y/N paused to press a chaste kiss to Rafe's cheek.

“You’re a good person, Rafe's. A good dad. A good husband. Please don’t ever think that you’re not.”

She felt moisture pool in the dips of her collarbones where Rafe's chin lied, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

“I’ll be okay. Sorry if I freaked you out earlier. Think I just need some time to get used to it all. Just wasn’t expecting Melanie to drop the ball that I was pregnant when all I was expecting was for her to tell me that our kid is in the 99th percentile for weight and then send me on my way.”

This got a chuckle out of him, almost causing him to choke on his tears. He quickly rubbed the sleeves of his sweatshirt against his eyes to dry up any remaining wet spots on his face. 

“She is pretty chunky, isn’t she?” Rafe jested while thumbing over his daughter’s rounded tummy.

After a moment of admiring their little chunk of a baby, with her milk-drunk eyes and puckered lips, Rafe spoke again.

“Two babies,” he huffed.

“Two babies,” she repeated.

His hands moved to caress Y/N’s stomach. She wasn’t showing yet considering that neither of them had even known Y/N was pregnant until today, but he still held her like her belly was the size of a watermelon and he was waiting anxiously to feel a hand or a foot press up against his palm.

“Might be kinda nice. They can share everything and we’ll only have to have one birthday party because they’ll be born around the same time. They’ll go to the same school and probably have the same friends. Kinda like twins.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Rafe Cameron? The party connoisseur? Suggesting his two precious babies share a birthday party?”

Rafe pursed his lips and blushed, recalling the fact that he'd already planned his daughter's first birthday in his head. Down to the tablecloth colors and dinnerware.

“Got me there,” Rafe chuckled.

Their banter was interrupted by a grueling rumbling sound coming from Y/N’s stomach that Rafe could feel throughout his entire body.

“Jesus, Y/N. You hungry too? When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhh...this morning I think?” Y/N sighed.

“Couldn’t stomach anything when I got home.”

Rafe's heart dropped when he thought of how distraught she’d been all day while he was gone and with everything in him, he’d wished he would have postponed his meetings to go to check up with her and they could have found out together.

“Found those tomatoes at the store the other day, remember? Want me to make that pasta for you?”

“Ohh, yes please,” she immediately perked up at the thought.

“Starting to wonder if that was a craving now that I think about it. Didn’t we have it, what? Three nights in a row a while back?” she proposed.

Rafe giggled as he reluctantly removed Y/N from his lap and stood up from the sofa.

“Thought it was a bit weird that you wanted it so badly, but I know better than to question you.”

“She’s going back down. If you give me a minute, I’ll come downstairs and help you,” Y/N said, pulling up the straps of her tank top after realizing her daughter had long since forgotten about her breast and was conked out in her arms.

“I've got it, mama” Rafe quickly refuted. “Take a bath or something and I’ll bring it up when it’s done.”

“Okay.”

Y/N couldn’t fight the grin growing on her face at the nickname Rafe used that she still hadn’t gotten used to.

When she placed their daughter soundly in her crib, Y/N’s fingers stayed put from where they sat on the railing as she caught herself staring at the sleeping infant once more. Though she’d felt like her world was caving in on her just a handful of hours ago, the pieces were all coming back together now. 

Of course, she wanted more children with Rafe. And now she was getting what she wanted. Just like he’d told her back in the bedroom, it wasn’t ideal, but they’d make it work. They always did. 

With two babies.

[haerinari]

I don’t care about Sooha

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader. Decelis Academy AU.

synopsis: y/n has always been best friends with the seven boys Heeseung, Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon and Ni-ki. But ever since the new girl, Sooha, came to Decelis Academy, everything has been only about her. Heeseung, who wasn’t only y/n’s bestfriend but also the boy she liked, was the first of all of them to give all his attention to Sooha, making y/n feel a bit (a lot) jealous.

warnings: not proofread!, jealousy, cursing, fluff, smut, smut with plot, y/n being a bit hater on Sooha, kissing, boob play, nipple play, pet names (baby, love, princess, good girl), dirty talking, praises, clit play, pussy eating, fingering, cum eating, unprotected sex (don’t do this), use of the word cum-slut.

want to keep reading? click here ⬇️

“Sooha, come sit here! Right next to me!” Sunoo exclaimed with excitement pointing at my seat.

“But it’s taken” she said.

“Yeah, that’s my sea—” i tried to say but Sunoo interrupted me. “Oh, that’s fine!” he answered.

“Sunghoon can sit with Y/N.”

“Fine…” i groaned and took my bag and notebooks next to Sunghoon’s table. “I can’t believe this.” i murmured to myself.

“Don’t worry, i feel the same way about her.” Sunghoon whispered into my ear with a serious face. “There is something that isn’t right about her, she’s very…”

“Nosey? Annoying?”

“Yeah, its a weird thing y/n. But don’t worry, i’m always on your side.” he smiled.

The chemistry class went pretty smoothly, Sunghoon and I didn’t payed that much attention to it, instead we were laughing and making jokes about random things. When the bell rang, all of us were packing peacefully our things until Sunoo talked to Sooha again.

“Sooha, what are you up to now that clases are over?” the blond boy asked.

“Huh? Oh, i’m gonna clean my room today.” Sooha answered. “I got some of it done last night… but there’s still a long way to go. There’s a bunch of things to throw out too.”

“Then i’ll help!” Sunoo smiled.

When i got out of the class I saw at the end of the hall Heeseung and Sooha talking. I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous about her, she has been so close to Hee lately. Before Sooha came to Decelis, he was the closest to me comparing to the others, we did everything together; lunch, siting together in class, and having deep long conversations at midnight, but it’s seems that all those things are over for now.

“Oh yeah! I sit next to Sunoo too, Y/N gave me her seat.” i hear Sooha saying to Heeseung while i was getting closer with all the other boys.

“She did?” Heeseung replied with surprise in his voice.

“Y/N didn’t give it to her, she stole it.” Sunghoon defended crossing his arms.

“Of course Y/N have it to her, she’s a good friend. You should do it too, Sunghoon. Mind your manners.” Jay talked.

“Sooha’s new in here.” Jungwon spoked. “We should be nice to her.”

“Yeah! Or you can just sit at the back with Y/N, you seemed pretty closed to her today, huh.” the blond boy said with a playful smirk.

“What?” Heeseung asked raising an eyebrow, getting in the conversation. “Yeah, the laughed and joked all~ the class”

“You-!!”

“Well, I also told them i was cleaning my room today… and the all offered to help.” Sooha said trying to relive the tension between all of us.

“Did we?” I said, Sunghoon laughed.

“What?” the girls said when Heeseung got closer to her. “Yeah… of course…”

Did Heeseung just talk to Sooha through his telepathy? No way, we agreed not to show our powers to her.

“Let’s go then!”

We all walked into Sooha’s room, there was a lot of boxes and stuff spread on the ground. Sunoo was wearing a pink apron while mopping the floor and Jay and Jungwon were taking the boxes from the floor. This room used to be were all of us hanged out sometimes, so there was boxes with weights, books, and other of our stuff on the ground.

“Uhm, guys… I can do it myself.” Sooha said.

“No Sooha, just stand there and watch.” Jay replied.

“Yeah, it’ll only take us a second.” Jungwon said.

“Cleaning is my favorite thing in the world!”

“You liar…”

“S-still, it’ll help too.” the girl said trying to take one of the weight boxes.

“Sooha…” i started. “I don’t think you can— Wow.”

“There’s 1000kg of dumbbells in it!” they exclaimed.

“How is that even possible?” i asked.

“Oh, no…”

“Here, let me take that for you.” Heeseung offered.

“Huh?” Heeseung was doing it again. “What? No! Of course not, i would never…”

“Heeseung did you just talked to her through telepathy?” Sunghoon asked shooked. “Yeah, since earlier today.”

“Heeseung!”

“Heeseung, we’re…”

“Sooha, you’ll keep my ability as a secret, right?” Heeseung said leaning closer to her.

Why did he always had to be so close to her?

“Yeah, of course! I won’t tell anyone.”

“Then let’s keep our secret between us.”

“Okay.” she nodded.

“I think your powers are really cool.”

“Yours too Hee.” Sooha answered with a little smile.

“Hell no, i can’t stand this.” i said in a low tone taking my bag from Sooha’s bed.

“What? Where are you going?” Sunghoon asked, Heeseung looked at me.

“I’m gonna be with Jake and Ni-ki on the field, they must be playing football. I’ll be there if you guys need me.” i murmured and left.

“What’s with her lately?” i heard Heeseung asked.

“I don’t know.” was the last thing i heard from Jungwon say before closing completely the door.

“What should i do guys?” i said hiding my head between my knees.

After successfully finding Ni-ki and Jake on the field, i told them everything that was happening with Heeseung and how i felt about Sooha.

“Well, it’s not a surprise you like Heeseung Hyung.” Ni-ki said.

“Yeah, all of us know that you both always had a thing for each other.” Jake added. “Both of us?”

“Of course that both you!” Ni-ki exclaimed. “You’re always like, eating him with your eyes.”

“Don’t say that! It’s embarrassing…”

“I remember one time he told us that he read your mind in class, it was an accident, he said. Heeseung hyung was going to tell you something via telepathy, but he accidentally ended hearing your thoughts about how handsome he looked that day.” Jake told.

“Shut. up.” i gasped.

“But be chill about it, Y/N…” the youngest of the boys said palming my back. “He likes you too, a lot more than you think.”

“Then why he is always so fucking close to her, talking to her, being with her, laughing with her!?” i said angrily.

“There is something weird about that girl, we can all feel it, he’s just trying to find out what is it.” jake explained.

“Huh? But she’s so w—”

“What are you guys talking about?” Heeseung said appearing behind our backs, interrupting my sentence.

“Nothing of your business…” i replied.

“Hyung! Good you’re here, Jake hyung and I are were just about to go, but we didn’t want to leave y/n alone.” Ni-ki said getting on his feet and doing a gesture for Jake to follow him.

“What–”

“Yeah, now that you’re here, you can stay with her. Bye hyung, see ya tomorrow y/n.” Jake said.

“Bye y/n!”

“See you around Riki…”

An awkward silence took all the place, I was still sat hugging my knees while Heeseung was standing behind me.

“Do you, maybe, want to go to my room? We can talk or do something if you like.” he spoke after a few seconds.

“Aren’t you going to be with your new friend Sooha?” i replied sarcastically.

“I think she’s on her room, i left her there. It’s been a long time since we talked, you know… you and me.”

“That’s because you are always with that girl, everywhere she goes, you have to go too.”

“That’s why I want to be with you now. C’mon, let’s go. I’m not asking if you want to or not.” Heeseung said showing me his hand.

“Fine.” i sighed and took his hand.

We walked through the Academy until we reached to the door of his dorm, when he opened it, his roommate, Sunoo, wasn’t there.

“Where’s Sunoo?” i asked walking in the bed’s direction.

“I think he went out with Jungwon and Jay, they said there were hungry.” Heeseung replied.

“Oh, how I missed your bed!” i exclaimed while jumping on his comfortable bed, it was so soft and cozy.

Every single time after we hanged out at night we used to come to his dorm and lay on the bed to watch movies, i remember how fast my heart beats were when i felt the proximity of our bodies and his scent all over the bed.

“I missed you.” Heeseung said lying by my side.

“Oh don’t say that.” i pinched him softly on the arm.

“Why not?” he smiled. “Because you know how i feel about you, and those things make my heart go crazy…”

“I don’t know what are you talking about.” he shakes his head.

“Don’t play dumb on me, Heeseung. Jake and Ni-ki told me about that time you read my kind in class, about how you heard how handsome i thought you looked that day.”

“Those assholes, i told them to keep their mouths shut!” i laughed. “I don’t care about Sooha, Y/N. Not in the way you think i do.”

“Your actions says other words Heeseung.” i looked at the ceiling. “It’s all right tho, i don’t want to loose our friendship…”

“Okay, now you stop playing dumb on me.” he laughed. “I like you, Y/N. I don’t like Sooha, i’m not interested in her. I like you and only you.” Heeseung confessed.

“Are you sure? I mean, like… like like?”

“Yes, Y/N. Like like.”

“Why didn’t you told me earlier?”

“I think i was a little scared… i knew you liked me but, i wasn’t completely sure and also didn’t want to lose our friendship. I couldn’t lose you, how could i live without you?”

“Oh stop saying those clingy things!” i said hiding my red face on his pillows. “I’m flustered.”

“Y/N” he called. “Hmm?” i said with my head still between the pillows.

“Look at me, please.” i turned at him, looking directly at his precious eyes. “You’re the only girl I have eyes for, you’re the only girl i can look at. Why would i be looking at some other woman when i have the girl of my dreams right in front of me?”

And with that, I instantly crashed my lips against his. As our lips finally met, it was as if time stood still; the kiss was tender yet electric, igniting a spark that both of us had expected for a really long time. The kiss was soft and tentative at first, a gentle exploration that spoke of shared secrets and unvoiced emotions. Heeseung’s lips brushed against mines, warm and inviting, as if testing the waters of a new adventure. A rush of warmth flooded through the kiss, igniting a spark that quickly ignited into something deeper. He got on top of me, the kiss growing more passionate. His hands cradled into my face, his thumb lightly tracing my cheek, grounding them in the moment.

“Do you want to… keep going?” Heeseung asked, trying to catch his breath.

“If you stop now, i’ll kill you.” he giggled. “That’s want i wanted to hear.”

The kiss was deeper this time, one of his hands went from my cheek to the buttons of my shirt, untangle them. He took all of my shirt off, revealing my black lace bra that was covering the upper part of my body.

“Fuck…” he sighted.

He kissed me again, now trailing his open mouth kisses from my mouth, then my neck, until reaching to my chest. His hand moved to my back, unbuttoning my bra and throwing it to somewhere at the room.

“Such pretty tits, baby.”

I let out a loud moan when i felt his mouth in one of my nipples, sucking it hardly while his other hand was pinching my other boob. His mouth felt like heaven, the wetness between my legs starting to grow wider by the sensation of his cock hardening on my core. My hips started to moved back and forth, searching for some kind of relief.

“Hee —fuck— please…” i begged.

“Aww, is my pretty princess needy, huh? You want to feel me all inside you, don’t you? Want me to break you apart…” he spoke with a smirk, his lips red and swollen from sucking my tits.

“Fuck yes.”

“Hold it a little longer baby, let me take care of you…”

He went down on my stomach, kissing every single part visible of my body. He took off my uniform skirt and kissed my iner-thighs, placing his hands over my knees to keep them open. My hips started bucking into him, trying to feel some kind of friction. He kissed my core through my panties, an embarrassing wet patch showing off. Heeseung moved the to the side, reveling my wet core begging for attention.

“Such a pretty pussy, such a pretty girl… I’m going to eat you out, and going to lick all of your pussy until you’re dripping into my face, baby.”

He started sucking my clit, his tongue lapping at it while he sucked here and there my pussy lips, making slurping noises as he devoured my cunt. My hand went directly to his hair, pushing him deeper to chase that feeling i’ve been searching for. He groaned, causing a vibration in my pussy and sending shivers down my spine.

“Fuck i love your pussy, i could fucking eat it all day, such a sensitive clit and wet pussy. You’re such a good girl.”

“Shit!” i gasped. “Heeseung ple —ah— please fuck me alredy.”

His index finger entered my tight hole, causing me to scream his name. His finger felt so long and deep inside me, i could imagine how good his dick was going to feel.

He added another finger, moving them in and out in hard pace while sucking my clit meanwhile.

“You’re so good, Hee. Shit, shit. You’re fingers feel so good.” i cried.

“If my fingers feel like this, imagine how good my dick is going to stretch you out. If you can’t take my finger, how are you going to take my cock? Huh, Y/N? Tell me…”

“I…I—” i sweared i could see stars in that moment. “I’m gonna cum.”

“You cuming baby? C’mon, cum all over my fingers. Let me taste all of you, baby.”

His fingers went faster, hitting that sweet spot deep inside me, his tongue sucking my clit. The knot in my stomach felt tighter and tighter until it finally explored.

“Fuck!” i gasped grabbing the sheets under me. “Oh my good, Hee.”

“That’s it baby… That’s it, so sweet. You’re such a good, good girl.” Heeseung said sucking clean all my pussy.

He came up to my face, kissing me with hunger and allowing me to taste myself.

“You think you’re ready for my cock now?” i nodded. “Yeah?”

“Please Hee…”

“Shit, anything for you baby.”

He took his pants and boxers down, revealing his long, thick cock leaking with pre-cum.

“There—There’s no war that’s gonna fit inside me.” i lowered my voice.

“That’s why stretch you out before, love.”

He thrusted his cock in his hand a few times until he aligned into my entrance. With a deep groan, Heeseung thrust himself into my tight hole, making me moan. His cock sliding deep into my wet, tight pussy.

“So, so tight baby.” he moaned. “This pussy was made just for me.”

“Yes, Hee. It’s feels so good.” i gasped.

His hand reached to rub my clit, making me moan even louder as he fucked my pussy senseless. He groans softly as he feels the tightness of my pussy around his cock. He begins to move faster, his hips slapping against my ass as he pounds into my cunt relentlessly.

“Hee, baby, i’m gonna cum again…”

“—Fuck— that’s it baby, cum with me okay? Let’s —shit— let’s cum together.

You couldn’t last any longer, not with the way he was rubbing your clit and not with the way he was burying his dick inside you. And with a loud moan, he buried his cock deep inside, his hot cum flooding my pussy. His hands on my hips holding me in place, making sure every last drop is deposited inside, marking me as his own cum-slut. His orgasm seems to go on forever, leaving me with a dripping, cum-filled mess.

“That was… wow.” Heeseung said collapsing next to me on the bed, i smiled.

“Yeah… wow.”

“Just for the record, i don’t want this to be just some one-time-hookup. I really have deep feelings for you, Y/N.” he said, wrapping his arms around my body in a tight hug.

“I want to be with you, Hee. I really like you too and i want to to this with you forever, you’re the only one.”

“My pretty girl.” he said giving me a kiss on the head. “You’re the best, y/n.”

“I know.” he laughed. “Love you, Hee.”

“Love you too, princess.”

[saerins]

°୨୧ NO CONTEST

+ kaiser x f!reader | wc 2.8k | content: fluff, friends to lovers, slight hints of jealousy, mentions of alcohol, they go clubbing

notes: help me i think i made myself fall for this guy even more after writing this shit for him > ⤙ <

summary: being just friends doesn’t mean much when neither of you really want to keep it that way. problem is, will either of you make the first move?

SPOTTED: KAISER-KAIA DUO HIT THE STREETS, NEW BUDDING ROMANCE?

“i like you though, y/n.”

it’s spring and the weather outside is the nicest it’s ever been in a while and you have every chance to enjoy it except for the fact that dear michael kaiser is lounging on your couch, rifling through the magazine he got in the mail.

“right, haha, very funny,” you mumble sarcastically, slumping down onto the other couch where kaiser isn’t sprawled all over.

sometimes, you think it’s funny how he’s portrayed as this hot, sexy, confident soccer player who can do no wrong when it comes to matters with his looks, but then in private he’s like… well, this. his bed head’s a mess, his room slippers are the fluffy-fuzzy kind, and much less high maintenance than everyone makes him out to be. (but you have to stop yourself from staring because kaiser doesn’t sleep in anything but his sweatpants during this season and well, where his abs are concerned, he’s definitely got no problems there.)

kaiser sighs in the overdramatic fashion that’s probably his trademark right about now. “y/n, y/n, what do i have to do to make you believe me?” he turns around, smirking at you as he raises a brow. maybe it’ll work on his countless fangirls, but after being friends with him for over six years, you’re probably immune to it.

“maybe you can just shut up and get ready for your event later.” you roll your eyes, sauntering to the kitchen to get yourself some breakfast, automatically making two of everything because kaiser loves to crash your apartment in the morning. (he really does need to learn about personal space.)

breakfast preparations go quietly. kaiser listens to you—he shuts up and starts getting ready for his event before coming back into your apartment, all fresh and ready to shamelessly eat the breakfast you made, staring at you from across the table whenever you’re not looking like he always does.

“kaiser-kaia duo hit the streets, new budding romance?”

“miko, don’t tell me you’re reading that gossip rag too,” you whine, looking for any excuse not to dive into your pile of work for the day.

your colleague swivels her chair over to your cubicle, looking around to make sure your bosses aren’t around to witness the both of you slacking off. “hey, isn’t he your friend? give me the tea! are they really dating?”

leave it to miko to get all excited about dating rumours. you really don’t know what’s so special about them—kaiser’s gotten so many of them ever since, well, forever. even before he became a soccer superstar.

you remember what kaiser said in the morning. “i like you though, y/n.” always ready with that smooth tongue of his. that aside, if he really was dating someone, you bet that they’d be staying over with him more often than not, and there’s really no harm in rejecting a rumor as opposed to confirming one.

“nope, they just happened to be waiting for a cab at the same spot.” and paparazzis love to snap a shot from misleading angles. now that you’re really looking at the article, they managed to make it look like kaiser’s kissing her cheek. you find yourself rolling your eyes at it and looking away.

miko sighs, leaning back against her chair. “man, that sucks, they look cute,” she comments, scrolling away from the online article before she gives you a suspicious side eye. “hey, you sure you’re not dating him?”

you still a little at the sudden line of questioning before turning your attention back to your laptop equally quickly. “if i was, i wouldn’t be so free all the time now, would i?” a response to which miko shrugs off and decides to let go of as she retreats back to her desk.

as much as you love miko as your colleague, you haven’t been as honest with her as you could. she knows you’re friends with kaiser, yeah, but she doesn’t know he’s basically your neighbour. she doesn’t know that he comes over all the time whenever it’s off season. she doesn’t know that the both of you have fallen asleep next to each other on the couch.

she doesn’t know a lot of things—like how your heart’s beating erratically now at the notion of being someone special to kaiser. it’s always been sweet nothings that you thought would stay that way, and you’ve always been short at realising your own feelings, so much so you were, once upon a time, positive you had zero romantic feelings for your friend.

now? you’re not so sure anymore.

seven days pass and kaiser’s been pestering you every single moment you’re free—like he always does—but today’s kind of a special day because it’s your birthday and it’s an hour away from your dinner party yet you’re not even close to ready.

your hair’s wet, you’re still in your loungewear, you have no idea what to wear and kaiser’s just flipping through the channels, half bored to death. for his part, at least, he’s already ready.

it’s not even fair how he takes just half an hour to get ready and yet he looks like he does. hair perfectly soft, and he’s wearing a nice black suit with a wine red dress shirt underneath, his tattoos peeking out here and there. if he wasn’t a soccer player, he’d definitely either be a model or a very charming businessman.

“too handsome for you?” kaiser smirks as he catches you looking, and you have to spin on your heels to avoid getting flustered (to his face).

“shut up, kaiser, i haven’t found anything to wear,” you groan, making a beeline for your bedroom. you really wished your friends hadn’t booked a high-end restaurant for little old you—then you could literally just throw on anything and be done with it.

kaiser, completely comfortable in your apartment, strolls into your bedroom with you and starts browsing through your closet, ignoring your protests. within seconds, he finds a dress and holds it out, a lopsided smile filling his face. “how about this?”

the wine red satin dress hovers in front of you, and you have to swallow the lump in your throat before you speak, feeling the line getting blurry. “trying to get me to coordinate outfits with you or something?”

you’re trying your best but your voice quivers just a little bit, and you bet that smug smile on his face that he can hear it. “why not? we look good together,” he shrugs, as though it’s no big deal but it’s hard to stop yourself from overthinking when lately the two of you have been flirting more often and serious than usual.

rolling your eyes and trying not to be too late, you grab the dress from him and change into it, spending some time to yourself to recollect, internally cursing him for being able to make you this flustered over nothing at all.

by the time you come back out into the living room, hair all done and accessories settled, this time, kaiser’s the one who’s caught staring, shameless in the way his eyes drag over you from head to toe. you’d tease him for it, but you’re not entirely sure you’re ready for his comeback so you refrain.

as you grab your go-to black heels and sit down to strap them on properly, kaiser’s quick to offer a hand, his lithe fingers taking your heel from you, slowly inserting your feet, his eyes lingering on your face and his thumb rubbing circles around your ankle. your eyes are glued to his own, and somehow it makes you even more nervous when he’s not joking around. when he looks at you like this—serious, like he’s trying to tell you something without saying anything at all.

the way he ties the straps are gentle and precise, tight but not too tight that it’ll hurt you. you’ve jokingly told him to help you tie your shoelaces before but he’s always refused. yet now he’s helping you put on your heels on both feet without saying a word and the way his hand lingers on your calf when he’s done is enough to make you melt.

on some other day, you’d joke with him and get him to let go. today, you’re silent.

kaiser chuckles, though, his hand casually brushing up your calf slightly before he pulls away, gently patting your head as he gets up.

“let’s go.”

dinner is agonising, enjoyable, agonising.

it’s nice; being seated around a table, enjoying small talk and nonsense with the same group of friends, catching up with people like kaiser and ness who’s been away a lot because of their profession.

yeah, that part’s nice. what’s agonising about it all is how close kaiser is to you, how his right hand casually drapes around your shoulder from time to time, shifting down to your thigh sometimes, making you go crazy.

it’s not like the both of you haven’t been close before, but you feel like maybe this time, it’s different. it’s not just the close proximity, it’s the intimacy of it all that has you inwardly keeling over. what’s worse is that you think you want it, him. in a way you didn’t think to think of before.

“you sure you’re not dating him?”

miko’s words ring repeatedly in your head. somehow, your answer’s changed from nope to you sort of wish you did. you bite your lower lip, absentmindedly laughing along even if you didn’t hear the joke at all.

“you okay?” the voice in your ear nearly makes you jump up from your seat.

on your right, ness is grinning as he looks at you, like he knows something’s going on in that little head of yours. you shake your head anyway, but ness shoots you a knowing smile as his eyes briefly shift to kaiser’s arm around you before winking at you.

fuck, is that really enough to make the heat rush to your cheeks?

“y/n?” one of your other friends calls out, snapping you back to the foreground.

“what?”

“next stop: new club downtown! orange, or grape, or whatever the fuck name it is,” he drawls, excited, “you up for it?”

before you even get the chance to agree, one of the other guys speaks up. “hey kaiser, speaking of clubs, didn’t that dating rumour come up recently? the one with, uh, kaia?”

readjusting himself, kaiser pulls away from you, taking a swig of his beer. “don’t remind me,” he groans, sighing.

“why not? she’s hot!”

there’s a knot in your stomach that you can’t explain.

beside you, ness snickers. “tell ‘em what really happened, stupid.”

that manages to pique your interest.

kaiser sighs, resigning because he knows they’ll just keep hounding him if he refuses. “she tried her luck, that’s all,” he settles for something vague, trying to escape.

ness, however, ever the kind soul, expands on his words, making sure you hear every single bit—you’re not sure if he’s trying to egg you on or just see your reaction.

“please, she was trying to get you to send her home, no?” ness’ explanation gets a reaction out of the group, and you’re glad you all have a private room here so no one outside can hear you, servers included.

“shut up.”

“kaia and kaiser—has a nice ring to it.”

and even though kaiser doesn’t entertain that, you feel a little envy brewing inside you—one that you fail to drown out.

orange is filled with people; combining the fact that it’s holiday season and it’s the club’s launch night, it’s safe to say that there’s barely any room to breathe. still, your friends are all drunk on the alcohol, pulling one another to the dance floor, leaving you and kaiser at the table.

he’s still close as ever, his bare hands brushing yours, one of his arms around your waist, keeping you close.

“dance with me,” he raises his voice over the music. the way he smiles so genuinely now managing to make your heart skip a beat.

suppressing your grin, you wordlessly agree, letting him lead you onto the dance floor. he meanders the crowd skilfully, as expected considering he and ness are frequent clubbers. it’s only now that you realise you’d never gone to such a place with him, which is surprising considering your many years of friendship.

as you join your friends on the floor, you can’t help but notice how kaiser sticks to you and you alone, his hands on your waist, trickling up and down your arm, dancing along behind you. even surrounded by people, he commands your attention alone.

unfair.

but to kaiser, it’s unfair too. it’s not fair how you’re so pretty, it’s not fair how you’ve always been. it’s not fair that he’d fallen slowly for you, and now so so deep. how is it fair that even when he tries to forget you, when he tries not to mess with the friendship, that he ends up falling even more?

his eyes stay glued on you, shamelessly making sure no other man gets their hands on you—it’s fucking insulting how they try to get you to dance with them even when he’s right there. lucky for him, you’re not budging. you’re there. with him. only him. even if your other friends are here.

it’s just him and you and he wonders what you’re thinking. are you as flustered as he is right now? kaiser hasn’t even let himself drink more than one mug of beer, all because he knows this is a night he’d rather remember than risk forgetting.

“hey, isn’t that kaia?” one of your friends excitedly points out and kaiser follows his line of sight.

it is her, and she’s heading this way—but that’s not really important because what’s important is how kaiser noticed you’ve stopped dancing, awkwardly trying to shuffle away. it’s kind of funny, he swears he can tell that you might feel the same way about him. maybe you’re just more stubborn than he is.

so he keeps his arms around you, pulling you close.

“stay with me,” he whispers into your ear, and he suppressed a grin from the goosebumps searing across your neck. he guesses it’s a good sign you’re listening to him.

“kaiser, what’s up?” kaia greets, evidently trying to move for a hug but kaiser’s not budging, squeezing you closer instead.

he nods at her in acknowledgement before letting the rest of his friends throng around her for a photo.

once she’s sufficiently busy, he hears you speak up. “were you dancing with her that time too?”

kaiser manages not to snicker at your obviously jealous tone, “yeah, we went with a few other people after our shoot was wrapped up.”

you nod, and all kaiser can think of somehow is that your shampoo smells so nice. “oh, sure you don’t wanna dance with her again tonight then?”

are you testing him? it’s cute.

he shakes his head. “nah, i danced with her a lot that time already,” he teases, though he’s not too sure whether you’d take it like a joke like it was meant to. when you don’t respond, he chuckles, gently turning you to face him. “there’s one thing i didn’t do with her though.”

kaiser’s face is just inches away from yours, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek and he’s aware that everyone in the close vicinity is looking at the two of you but he doesn’t care.

honestly, he has to admit, he’s dreamed of doing this a thousand times over, always hovering between the decision to ruin this friendship or not. the thoughts were there whenever he’d wake up next to you on the couch. or whenever all of you met up and one of the other guys would throw their arms around you. or in the mornings when you made breakfast. there’s not a time he’s been sure whether this is what you wanted too.

hell, he’s not even sure now. but fuck, if he wastes another minute not trying he thinks he’ll kill himself for it. and he’s hoping to god this isn’t a dream because you’re not pulling away and you’re not treating this like a joke and it can only be because you want this too.

without another thought, his lips press against yours and it’s like the loud music drowns out into the background, getting lost and fading away. suddenly it’s like you’re the only thing in front of him and fuck, you taste even better than he can ever imagine.

“fuck,” he exhales, cheeks pressed against yours. “be mine?”

still breathless from that kiss, you chuckle weakly and nod, both of you earning whoos all around the room. (you make a mental reminder to tell miko before she winds up seeing this online before you get a chance to explain.)

and just like that, kaiser’s finally gotten the girl of his dreams.

“want you, baby, just you.”

the next morning, the two of you make the headlines.

LIPS LOCKED: KAISER & RUMORED GIRLFRIEND SHOW OFF THEIR LOVE

[mywritersmind]

hi love!! how are you??💗

theres such a lack of franco stuff 💔 so since i just saw u were asking for ideas what about maybe franco and the reader have had feelings for each other for a while but kept them to themselves and something happens that provokes franco to confess 🤭 or the other way around :)) you can do whatever you want <3

JEALOUSY - FC43

listen up : no warnings!! thanks for the request this is super fun and proud of franco for q3 today🧉🫡 keep requesting!!

word count : 1200

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Hi love.” Franco says smoothly in my ear, his hand resting on my waist as I take the drink out of his hand, coughing and handing it back quickly. He frowns, “I thought you would like this.”

I shake my head, “Gross.” My friends all look at us as he sips the drink.

“Just fuck and get it over with.” My friend says, making everyone laugh except Franco and I. I raise a brow at them as they apologize and scurry away.

I step away and look at Franco, his eyes are wandering around the club. He’s in all black, his waves big and as a piece falls in his face, he catches me staring.

We’re friends. I know that. And I love him for it. He’s respectful and kind, flirty and hilarious, and will never leave me behind. But sometimes it’s hard, I feel like we have these moments then it just disappears.

“Love?” He asks and fuck me, that nickname gets me everytime. I look away and try to hide my blush but he grabs my chin and turns my head back, a grin on his face and a spark in his eyes.

“I need an actually drinkable drink!” I yell over the music as he laughs and stands up straighter.

“I’ll grab you something.” He says it quickly but I shake my head.

“No chance, Colapinto!” I back up, “Don’t cry without me.”

“Unlikely.” He winks and when I turn, my cheeks are still hot. My friends give me a look and I can’t help but smile, I like Franco. I can’t help it.

You try having your best friend flirt with you while looking like that.

I’m still smiling when I order my drink. I almost don’t notice the man sliding up next to me. He’s tan and blonde, he smiles at me and I politely smile back, looking away.

When he doesn’t move, I look back to him again, “Hi- Sorry, I couldn’t help but come up to you. You’re gorgeous.”

I smile politely, “Uh, Thank you!” I am single, even if my mind tricks me sometimes when I look at Franco.

“You here alone?” I’m about to say no but when I turn to look at Franco, I laugh out loud. He’s with a girl, she’s pretty with dark skin and boobs that Franco’s getting distracted by.

“Yes!” I turn back to him, “I am!” The bartender hands me my drink and I start on it immediately, “I’m Y/n.”

He smiles, “JJ.” He starts talking about himself and as I listen, my hand goes to his arm and he scoots a bit closer.

I find myself genuinely laughing at things he says, not because I find him funny but I find what he’s saying ridiculously stupid.

I can’t help but look back at Franco, he’s staring at me. That’s surprising. The girl is still next to him, smiling and talking still.

I raise my brows at him and he does the same to me. I mouth, ‘What?’ but he just rolls his eyes and looks back at the girl. Fuck. Him.

“Y/n? Are you listening to me?” I look back at the man who didn’t even ask me a question, as he frowns.

“Dude, I don’t even remember your name.” I take my drink and walk away. I see Franco follow me out of the corner of my eye.

I groan, walking past my friends as they ask me what’s wrong, “I’m gonna go!” They start to follow me out but stop when they see Franco.

I set my drink down and keep maneuvering through the crowd, the fresh air finally hitting me. “Y/n!” He yells after me but I keep walking, ignoring the cold.

I don’t say anything so he calls after me again, “Y/n! You can’t just leave alone!”

I roll my eyes and turn around, “What do you want me to do then? Go home with that blonde?” I say sarcastically as his face drops.

We’re farther away from any people now, “No. I wanted you to come get me.”

“And take you away from your attention holder? No thanks.”

He shakes his head, “This can’t be because you’re jealous.” he scoffs, “I was having a conversation! And we’re not…” he trails off and I groan.

“We’re not what, Franco? And I'm not the one that is jealous in this situation! You were giving him a death glare.”

“Yeah well the way he was looking at you, he deserved it.” I roll my eyes and start to walk away again but he grabs my arm, “Wait- Y/n! I don’t get it.”

“Seriously? Are you that fucking blind or just plain stupid!?” He looks shocked I would yell at him.

Well I'm pissed off and angry at him. “You can't complain about some guy talking to me when you were otherwise occupied.”

“She- No. Y/n, I was barely listening to her. She fucking recognized me and I couldn’t hear a thing she said because you were laughing with that douche bag!”

I cross my arms, his touch leaving me. “You don’t even know him.”

“What’s his name, Y/n. I’ll get to know him.” He raises a brow as I look away, “I just- Fuck it’s hard. And I don’t want some slimy prick hitting on you!”

“Right, cause you’re the only slimy prick who gets to do that.” He lets out a dry laugh. “You are jealous!”

“Of course I am!” His tone makes me frown, he sighs then looks me in the eye, “I don’t want to share you. I hate being your friend because all I can think about is us kissing but that’s weird because you don’t want more and I'm trying to be respectful and a gentleman but shit, Y/n. You’re making it really hard.”

I just stare at him, frozen. He speaks again, “And I'm sorry. I mean, I'm not sorry for getting you to ditch that guy but…” I laugh a bit and it makes him smile, “I’m sorry for not saying this sooner.”

I shake my head, everything I've dreamed about coming true in the matter of minutes, “Franco.”

“If you’re gonna reject me, just get it over with please.” I laugh and his face tells me it doesn’t make him feel better.

“Franco.” He meets my eyes again as I move my hands to his neck, then jaw, reaching up and kissing him softly, “I really like you too.”

He freezes for a second and I'm worried I've done something wrong. But then his face breaks into a grin and he kisses me again, wrapping his arms around me and spinning me in the air.

I laugh as he hugs me, “This is the best day of my life.” He sets me down as my cheeks start to hurt from my smile.

“I thought your F1 debut was the best day of your life?” His hands slide to my waist as he shakes his head rapidly.

“Fuck that. Better things have come!” He kisses me again and I melt into him, “You’re better than anything I could have asked for.”

[zvdvdlvr]

meet the team + Spencer Reid

     Spencer had put off introductions for a while. It would be accurate to assume that he was anxious- for fear of his coworkers potentially scaring you away and for fear that you would finally realize better bachelors/bachelorettes were out there. Most of all, he was worried that confirming your relationship to the BAU would drive the two of you apart just like it had done for Hotch, Rossi, and Gideon.

     But you were excited to meet the team, and they were equally (if not more) excited to meet you. Derek was skeptical but overally looking forward to meeting the person Spencer had been gushing about for the past seven months.

     Spencer hadn’t shown any pictures of you to the team, instead keeping the element of surprise on your side. He had assured them that whatever expectations they had were probably wrong.

     The two of you were set to have dinner at the Mexican joint uptown around 6. Spencer had told the team that you would be coming right after work, so you wouldn’t have time to change into fancier attire.

     When the team all filed into their cars and slid into the booths of the restaurant, Spencer’s eyes consistently flitted to the door. He was beyond ready to see you and get the long-awaited introductions over with. And to eat.

     “Does she wear Mary Janes?” Penelope asked. “Is she a… librarian? She probably had glasses like you.”

     Derek laughs. “Yeah, she’s definitely a female version of Spencer.”

     Spencer looks over at Derek with a glare that the latter only shrugs off.

     “Enough,” JJ cuts in. “You guys aren’t three.”

     “What color do you think her glasses are?” Emily asks Penelope. “Purple, probably, to match Spencer’s vest.”

     Penelope gasps loudly. “Oh! You’re right!”

     Imagine the BAU’s surprise when Spencer’s face relaxes and he stands up when a woman with a stained light grey shirt walks in. The only other thing the team can see is your hair: pulled into two tight braidsSpencer practically floats over to greet you, smiling impossibly wide as you look over to him.

     Rossi chuckles at the open-mouthed Emily, Penelope, and Derek. JJ and Hotch both shake their heads. When you both approach, the team can see that your tan pants are stained with grease and paint. Your boots are covered with grime, but your face is bright as you greet them all with a smile.

     “Hi! I’m y/n,” you say as Spencer lets you slide into the seat beside him. “Sorry for the mess. I’ve been crazy busy lately and didn’t have time to run home.”

     Penelope physically shooes away your apology. “Nonesense! I love your hair! Do you do it yourself?”

     Spencer exhales when you slyly link your fingers with his. The worst part is over, and you’re being accepted by the team. Perfect.

     “Thank you!” You say excitedly. “I usually do it myself, but Spencer sometimes does it if I’m super busy. He’s really good at braiding, honestly.”

     ‘Aww’s are heard from everyone and Spencer’s face turns red. “Thanks, y/n.”

     “You’re welcome, darlin’,” you answered with a smile.

[coryndoll]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: a really long chapter part thing i fear . kisses .. maybe .. IM NOT SPOILING THIS

prev next

authors note: erm guys .. if im rushing this then do NOT pay attention !! I WANT THEM TO BE OKAY AGAIN JUST LIKE U GUYS I FEAR. I CANT HELP MYSELF. but do NOT think this is the end because this is NOT!! we still have to get through the rest of the second week + the wedding. and if u think about it, DAMN a lot happened in week 1 omg goodnight

anyway, if u still arent part of the tag list, feel free to let me know thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3333

you keep your distance from him the next two days. you know you have to face him, and sometimes you do, but you’re stiffer than before. he knows better than anyone to maintain that gap until you’re okay again.

it just feels like your breakup with him all over again, but this time, for a different reason other than having too much time apart. this time, you’re all he spends time with but there just happens to be something getting in the way of that. another girl. it isn’t fair.

drew’s been trying to show in little ways that he’s sorry, but it doesn’t cut it for you. not yet. and you don’t want to lead him by a string and take advantage of him caring about you. but him bringing you breakfast, then trying to avoid you throughout the day until you’re back in libby’s bed again—it’s just frustrating.

you don’t even want to be there anymore. you don’t want to have to deal with this. but it’s for leila and theo, their day is coming up soon. you just want them to have a good time and then you can all separate ways and live your own lives again. how it’s always been and how it should be.

the guys are getting ready to visit town while the girls stay back. this isn’t for you though, and you’re grateful. gia proposed a self-care day after a package was shipped to the home, a large box of cookies, and safe to say you all agreed to the plan.

“i’ve been trying to get back into reading but i feel like i have no time sometimes,” leila’s telling you and the girls as you set up shop at the kitchen island.

there’s an array of face masks, moisturizers, rollers, oils, creams, other things they’ve wanted to try. gia even brings her diffuser and places it nearby as the tv in the living room plays.

“i recommend ‘doomsday’!” libby perks up from across the table. “i read it last summer and let me tell you, i bawled crying for a month straight.”

“y/n, you read,” leila says as she files her nails, crossing a leg over another. “what are your recommendations?”

“hey,” theo greets leila as he and the boys join you four at the table, each with their respective girlfriend besides libby and oscar, and technically you and drew. he hovers behind you but just merely nods his head to say hello. “we’re gonna head out.”

“oh, okay,” leila says with a small frown, but kisses him goodbye. “drive safe, alright?” you’re winking at roman who points at you to say to behave, but he kisses gia’s cheek before he’s following theo out.

you answer leila from earlier with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting to find ‘the last love letter’ but i haven’t really been reading lately. been too busy.”

gia mouth gapes open as she slams her hand on the table, nearly knocking something over. “shut up, i’ve been wanting to read that too!” she shrieks as libby tells her to be more careful.

you can only giggle at her while she gets off her seat and comes up behind you to pull your hair and tie it back.

“that book is literally nowhere, i swear the author only made like five copies of it.”

“have you guys read ‘self sabotage’?” leila asks as she and libby, already prepared, begin to place their face masks on.

you’re on the couch with the girls as libby records you on her phone. the box of cookies are opened and after careful review, you’ve all decided what to try first and what comes after that, and so on.

“now?” you ask libby if she’s ready, and she nods. you, leila, and gia take a cautious bite out of the pieces you’ve broken off of the first cookie. it only takes you a few chews in to realize how heavenly it is. gia even pretends to faint beside you.

“holy shit,” leila says as she covers her mouth, taking a look at the cookie with wide eyes. “are you serious?”

libby lunges at you with her phone to take it from her, “well now i wanna try it!”

you’re in a fit of laughter as you try to turn the camera around before she can sink her teeth in, but she’s too fast. your eyes widen at the girl, “libby, slow down!”

and eventually, you’re full of cookies and half of them are still yet to be tried. you agree with the girls to continue this matter tomorrow if the boys don’t eat it all themselves, and you know they will. you’re just glad you’ve already tried all the ones you really wanted to before then.

when the guys get home, it’s exactly what you anticipated. they bee line directly to the cookies on the coffee table, but not without greeting you all first.

theo groans as he takes a bite, roman right beside him to stuff a whole chunk in his mouth. “this is better than sex,” he murmurs while roman snaps his fingers several times. leila can’t help but nod in agreement.

“i feel cookie-drunk,” you say with your hand on your stomach, and gia curls up into your side as she holds onto hers. “what’d you guys get?”

roman is quick to reach into his bag and pull out a couple of keychains, as if he just got reminded about something. he tosses one at gia’s head, and you look over to see what it is.

“the world’s okayest girlfriend,” she reads aloud, and she chucks it back at him, no longer accepting the gift that roman laughs about. she gets up to see what else is in his bag, leaving drew to plop down next to you and libby, who’s on the other side of you this whole time.

she’s cleaning the ice cream off her spoon when she speaks up for you and her, “what’d you get?”

“few things,” he says as he lets you look inside for yourself.

you pull out a long box and open it. it’s a chain bracelet, sterling silver. it’s nice, and you nod with raised brows. there’s other things inside that you only glance at, but when you look up at him you notice the new pair of sunglasses that’s resting on his head.

you pull it off of him silently and place it on yourself, unspokenly thanking him for the temporary gift you’ll give back later but you like them so now they’re yours for a few hours.

drew purses his lips and closes his bag, assuming you’re done, so he gets up and starts heading upstairs. you look over at libby. without hesitation, she asks, “you okay?”

you hesitate, and you know she’s only asking this because this is one of drew’s brief interactions with you since a few days ago. but you shrug it off, “yeah, i’m okay,” you say.

libby doesn’t miss a beat, she’s not convinced at all. she knows you well enough to understand what ‘im okay’ really means is ‘i’ll be okay’. that it’s not okay, but it will be eventually.

she’s seen this look on you before, during the hardest parts of your relationship with drew. she can feel the unspoken words between them, the ones you don’t even need to say out loud.

“right,” libby says with a soft sigh. she wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug. “you’ll be alright,” she whispers. you know she won’t pry further, but knowing that whatever drew did, it was enough to hurt you again.

after a few moments, she pulls back and, with a small smile, asks, “wanna help me with dinner soon? leila thought it’d be nice to eat out in the backyard tonight, by the pool.”

you hum softly, nodding your head, “yeah, that sounds good.”

libby grins, “awesome. ‘cause it’s pizza night and i cannot do it alone.”

the next few hours blur together. you’ve successfully prepared the pizzas with libby and slid them into the oven. now you’re cutting into them and displaying them outside on the table.

it used to be bare, but someone since morning has gone out there to help decorate the backyard to make it just a little flashier. there’s a cloth on the table, which is scattered with candles, flowers, dishes, platters of cookies, fruits, a charcuterie board, and there’s a helpful variety of drinks.

fairy lights blink across the backyard, even over the pool, and it illuminates the whole place. you place the different pizzas in between each candle piece, which libby lights as you do. when you call everyone outside, you join together at the table.

and once theo leads you once again with the ‘i’m grateful for my future wife’ shit, you get to dig in. you’re pretty sure it was longer this time around and even roman started to just eat until he was kicked under the table by drew.

“fucking finally,” libby murmurs under her breath after theo concludes his speech, to which causes him to pick up an olive off the plate and toss it at her. “yeah, you’re so lucky i like olives,” she whispers to herself as she rearranges her napkin, “fucking loser.”

“libby,” you scold, though you can’t hide your laugh. she’s grinning when she looks up, silently laughing with you.

when you turn to drew on the other side of you, he’s taking large bites from his slice. he tilts his head back with a groan, then takes a longer look at the pizza as he chews.

“s’it good?” you ask, and he nods rapidly, and soon his body moves with it. you bring yourself to smile, grateful that people you care about like what you’ve cooked.

you reach over to take your own slice from each pizza and just stack it on your plate, planning on going through them one by one from the one on too being the one you least want to eat, and the last at the bottom being the one you’re most excited for—a ‘save the best for last’ type of thing. it’s silly but you do it anyway.

drew’s finishing up his bite when he leans into you gently. “i have to talk to you later, by the way,” he says, and it sort of startles you because at this point you’re just talking to libby.

you look at him with furrowed brows, but again, you’re not mad. you’re not upset with him. at least not in this moment, you can’t be.

and it looks like he’s grateful because he can see it too. “if that’s alright with you,” he says, then takes another bite. you just nod at him in silence, and watch as he turns back to oscar who’s on his other side before talking to him.

you look straight ahead where roman’s sitting, and he sends you a look. he heard drew talking to you, he knows it must be about something important, but it’s not what’s on your mind right now.

you shrug it off. “—tell you later,” you mouth to him, then turn to libby when you realize she’s talking to you again.

after dinner, gia and leila clean dishes while literally all of the guys clean up outside as a thank you to you and libby, who lay across the living room with bellies filled with food.

there’s a movie playing on tv that you can barely pay attention to, but you’ve been laying there for about an hour so if you really want to, you could. you just play into the laziness that you’re allowed.

you hold your phone above you as libby rolls around the carpet, or at least that’s what you last saw her doing before you looked away. you’re scrolling through texts with your manager as if a new message will come in.

“did elyse get back to you?” libby asks, a face-full of carpet and it sounds like she’s just a few feet away. “about the thing.”

“no,” you mumble, then turn your phone off and set it face-down on the carpet, just like libby. the side of your head is laying on your arm as you look at her. “i could go for another cookie.”

“you ate three!” libby’s muffled voice raises.

“and i’ll make it four,” you tell her, raising your volume back. you consider getting up but don’t feel like it. you can actually lay here forever—maybe.

“y/n,” you hear his voice. it’s drew.

and you get up immediately. he was so softspoken, so cautious with you. he’s entering the house with the other boys who must’ve finished outside, meaning it’s time to have his talk. you almost ask if you guys can just have it there if it’s not that important, but if that’s possible then he wouldn’t be trying to get you alone.

you look over to libby, who—at the sound of drew’s voice—peeked her eyes out to see what he wanted. she looks to you, and she understands why you have to go. she convinces herself to get up and find the remote so she can turn the volume up.

you know it’s for you and drew, and a part of you wants to nudge her or be offended, and you do. is this going to be normal behavior in the house? turning up the volume just for you and drew when you guys need to have these ‘talks’ that are just screaming practice in disguise?

you’re almost embarrassed but you know that you’d rather have this than let them hear you two upstairs.

you follow him to your room, or technically his room as of three nights ago, and he lets you inside first. there’s a chilling feeling when you realize what’s about to happen and you feel like he’s literally about to murder you.

the room is clean, for the most part. you didn’t doubt for a second that he wouldn’t take care of this room regardless if you’re in it or not. his bed isn’t made and his backpack’s on the edge of it, opened and rifled through.

you look to him when you’ve entered, and he nods toward the bed, as if to say he would rather you sit there while you listen to what he has to say, so slowly, you make your way over and settle down on the edge.

drew pulls out a chair from the desk across the bed and turns it around, pushing it closer to you. you’re surprised that he’s doing a whole setup just to talk to you. maybe he really is going to kill you.

“i haven’t been honest at all . . . since we started talking again,” he begins as he sits down in front of you. you stay there and close your mouth. you want to hear what he has to say, even if it ends terribly. you need to hear what he’s been thinking. “so i’d like to tell you everything about this past year if you’re okay with that.”

you shrug and gesture to let him have the floor. “please,” you insist with a nod.

he sighs as he fiddles with his fingers in his lap. “there’s . . . mila," he starts, and even though you knew this conversation was coming, it still stings when you hear her name.

“i guess you could call it a situationship or whatever,” he says before he catches himself, realizing how that sounds. “i mean, to me, it felt like that. but i think—” he pauses, chewing on his words. “no, she definitely saw it as more. she always viewed it as a relationship.” he glances at you, watching for your reaction, but you just sit there, waiting.

he rubs a hand over his face, frustrated with himself. “we just weren’t on the same page. i was . . . i was using it to distract myself, if i’m being honest. and i know that’s not fair. i knew it even then. but it felt easier than than facing what i was actually feeling at the time.”

he continues, “i told myself it was nothing, but i knew, deep down, it wasn’t fair to her. she didn’t deserve to be strung along like that.”

you feel your chest tighten, but not from jealousy. it’s you knowing that someone else had been hurt in this too, someone who had clearly thought there was more between them. “does she know? about this?” you ask him.

he flinches slightly, as if the concern you’re showing for mila makes this even harder to explain for him. he hesitates, “i officially ended things with her three nights ago. the night you confronted me about her. i told her it was over, that i couldn’t keep pretending things were fine when they weren’t. she didn’t take it well. and honestly, i don’t blame her.”

you’re quiet for a moment—so he’s decided to keep you and him a secret from mila? to spare both his and her feelings? you aren’t sure if you should bring light to it or just push it aside. you did say before that it was ultimately his decision.

“i’m glad you told her,” you say carefully, but there's a pause before you add, "but i can’t imagine how confusing this must be for her.” you shift in your seat, rubbing your palms on your knees. “i mean, from her perspective, this whole thing must feel like it came out of nowhere.”

he swallows hard, nodding. “yeah, it wasn’t fair to her. not at all.”

there’s a beat. he looks at you, his expression more vulnerable than you’ve seen in a long time. “i told her about you,” he says. he’s quiet, as if he’s afraid of the confession. “i told her that i’m . . . that i’m still not over you. that i don’t think i ever really was.”

what?

you blink, startled by his words, though in a way, you’re not entirely surprised. you’ve felt the tension between you two from the moment you started talking again, but hearing him admit it, finally saying it out loud . . .

his voice is rough, like he’s forcing himself to continue. “but that’s why things with mila were never real. not for me, at least. i kept telling myself i could move on, that i could just forget, but every day i’d realize i wasn’t. i couldn’t let go of you.”

“but you broke up with me, drew,” you remind him. “that doesn’t necessarily sound like you’re in love with me.”

“i didn’t break up with you because i didn’t love you,” he says, his brows furrowed. “i do, more than i’ve ever loved anyone else.” his eyes meet yours briefly before dropping to his hands, which he’s fiddling with in his lap. “like, it was the opposite. i felt like i wasn’t enough for you. like i was failing you.”

you feel your breath hitch in your throat, but you don’t interrupt. you sit up on the bed.

he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he speaks. “our jobs, the schedules, the distance . . . it was tearing us apart, you know? and every day, i’d think about how i wasn’t giving you what you deserved. we were supposed to click, supposed to last, but i felt like i was just holding you back.” his voice is quiet, and he rubs his forehead slowly. “and i couldn’t stand the thought of you waiting for me when i could never give you the time you needed. it was eating me alive.”

you stay quiet, but tears prick at the corners of your eyes. his words hit hard, and you feel like everything that was left unsaid was finally coming to light now—there were arguments that could’ve been avoided, the misunderstandings that built up. he was overthinking, spiraling, and instead of talking to you, he made the decision for both of you.

“and i just kept thinking, like . . . ‘she deserves someone who can be there for her, really be there. someone who can come home to her every night’. i wasn’t that guy. i’d go days without seeing you, weeks even, and it broke me.” he swallows hard again, shaking his head. “i convinced myself that you’d be happier with someone else. someone who wasn’t always on some stupid set, always busy.”

your heart aches as you watch him, his guilt written all over his face. you lean forward and whisper, “but you don’t get to decide that for me, drew. we make decisions together. or at least, that’s how it’s supposed to work.”

“i know,” he mutters, his tone regretful. “i know that now. but back then, i thought i was doing the right thing. i thought i was . . . protecting you, i guess. from me.”

you shake your head, wiping at the tears that are now falling freely. “protecting me from you? drew, i never, ever wanted anyone else. i wanted you. i didn’t care about the schedules, or the distance. i would’ve waited, and we could’ve figured it out. together.”

his eyes finally meet yours again, and for the first time, you can see the depth of his regret. “when we broke up, i tried. god, i tried to move on. i tried to find something, you know? but i was always looking for you.” he takes a shaky breath. “every girl i met, i’d compare them to you. i’d look for pieces of you in them, trying to find something familiar, something that felt right. but it never worked.”

you knew he had tried to move on, but hearing that he was always searching for you in others, that no one ever compared. it leaves you speechless for a moment. if that’s what happened, then why invest so much time into mila?

you finally gather the courage to ask, “mila. did she . . . was she like me?” your voice is soft, almost hesitant, but you need to know.

“no,” he admits, shaking his head. “not really. mila was cool, and she’s . . . she’s great in her own way. but no. she wasn’t like you.” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words. "but i remember i wanted her to be."

he didn’t try to replace you with mila, but it was clear that he had been searching for something, anything, to fill the void you left behind. and it never worked.

“no one’s ever going to compare to you, y/n,” he continues, “i realize that now. it took me a while, but i’ll always search for you in everyone, and it’s never going to be the same. it’ll never feel the way it felt with you."

for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re finally getting the truth. the real, unfiltered truth about why things ended the way they did. he wasn’t running because he didn’t care. he was running because he thought he wasn’t enough for you. and now, he’s sitting here, telling you everything he couldn’t say before.

“i’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper now, on the verge of crying. “i’m sorry for walking away. for not talking to you about it when i should’ve. i was scared. scared that i wasn’t enough for you, and scared that i never would be.”

you can feel the tears still lingering in your eyes, but there’s also a strange sense of closure. you’ve needed to hear this for so long, to understand why things fell apart the way they did. and now, you finally do.

“i messed up,” he says, “i messed up everything, and i know it. but i never stopped loving you and i’m . . . i’m still in love with you.”

you stay silent, blinking away the burn in your eyes, trying to absorb what he’s saying. part of you feels relief, but another part of you is cautious. you’ve been hurt before like this. by another and by him.

he watches you closely, and it feels like the longer the silence is, the more anxious he gets. “i know this doesn’t fix anything, and i’m not asking you to forgive me or take me back. i just needed to tell you the truth. i needed you to know that mila . . . ? mila was never you. no one is.”

the room feels too small suddenly, too full of emotions that you don’t know what to do with. you take a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts, but all you can manage to say is, “why now, drew? why are you telling me this now?”

his gaze softens, “because i didn’t want to lose you again. not without you knowing the truth.”

you can only look down at your lap. your vision blurs as you try to focus on your fingers, interlocked and tense in your lap, the pressure in your chest is tightening by the second.

you don’t trust yourself to speak just yet, so you hold everything in, to find the right words, but nothing comes out.

when you finally lift your head to look at him, the tears are already pooling in your eyes. you blink rapidly, trying to keep them from spilling over, but it’s useless. without saying anything, he stands up and pulls you into him, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame.

you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as your face presses into his chest, and it’s like the dam inside you finally breaks. the tears fall freely now, your body shaking as you cling to him, feeling the warmth of his arms around you—something you’ve missed so desperately.

and it’s not just about the last few days. it’s about the past year of missing him, of pretending you were okay when you weren’t. and you can tell drew needed this too. you can feel it in the way his grip tightens, like he’s afraid to let go, like he’s trying to hold together everything that’s broken between you both.

you stay like that for a long time, the sound of your quiet sobs muffled by his chest, his hand slowly rubbing up and down your back as if to soothe the ache inside you. it’s a comfort you haven’t felt in so long, and it is exactly what you’ve needed.

toward the end of it, your face still pressed against his chest, you mumble something, your words half muffled by the fabric of his shirt. he loosens his hold just a little, enough for you to pull back slightly, just enough to breathe. “i . . .” you take a shaky breath, your hands still gripping his arms, and when you finally meet his eyes again, you whisper, “i never stopped loving you either.”

the words hang between you, raw and honest, and as soon as you say them, you see the way his expression softens, like it’s the only thing he’s been waiting to hear.

his lips crash into yours, urgent and insistent. his fingers tighten against the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if he can’t get enough. his lips coax yours open, deepening the kiss, and he swallows the whimper that escapes you.

his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on the bed. he kisses you like he's been starved of you, his tongue swirling against yours, his hands exploring every inch of your face, your neck, your hair. this is what he’s been waiting to do.

his hands trail down to your hips, pulling you flush against him, and he breaks the kiss, only to trail his lips along your jaw, down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “stay with me tonight?”

you can’t get enough of him, and although you know that everything can’t be completely fixed over just one conversation, sleeping and waking up in the same bed as him isn’t hurting anyone.

you nod, a soft smile on your face that causes him to grin. but he pulls away slowly hesitating for a moment, his smile growing a little wider as he reaches past you into his backpack, his fingers rummaging around as if he’s searching for something precious.

you watch him, curiosity bubbling inside you. what could he possibly have?

“hold on,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice low and filled with warmth, and you smile as you press another kiss to his.

finally, he pulls out a book, holding it out toward you with a look of pure joy on his face. you take a look at it but almost don’t even catch it the first time until a second later. your heart skips a beat as you recognize it—the last love letter.

“shut up,” you say, taking it into your own hands to see if it’s real. and of course it is.

he nods, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “i heard you talking about it with the girls before we left earlier,” he explains, but he knows you can tell already that much. there’s a goofy look on his face as he wipes underneath one of his eyes. “i knew how much you wanted it and i saw a copy in town, so . . .”

“no, shut up. i can’t take this,” you exclaim, feeling tears welling in your eyes. “star.” the words spill out, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. it’s not just the gift; it’s the thought behind it that strikes a chord deep within you. you trace the cover with your fingertips as if it’s a treasured artifact.

he watches you intently. “i wanted to,” he assures you. “i heard it, i thought it would mean something to you.”

your gaze shifts from the book to him. “thank you, it does,” you whisper, your voice shaking as you blink out a few more tears.

you set the book aside momentarily, throwing your arms around him once again. the embrace feels like a lifeline. you hold him tightly, your heart racing as you bury your face against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent.

he wraps his arms around you, holding you just as tightly, as if he’s afraid to let go. the world outside fades away, and in this moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, a bubble of intimacy where everything feels right again.

after a long pause, as you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, you can see the softness in his eyes. “you really didn’t have to do this,” you say again, looking down at the brand new book. “but it means the world to me that you did.”

he grins, “i know it’s just a book, but i wanted to show you that i’m here—like, really here this time.” and you are so glad he is.

“i missed this,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

he closes his eyes for a moment, and you continue to explore the pages of the book, though your thoughts keep drifting back to him. aw you run your fingers through his hair, it dawns on you how much you've missed this—this connection, this easy banter, the comfort of being together.

“i missed us,” you finally admit, looking into his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right again. it all floods back to you.

he shifts slightly, leaning in closer, and his arms slide to wrap around your waist as he lays his head on your shoulder to take a look at your book with you, his voice in relief as he mumbles, “me too.”

and you’re happy, it all just feels like your dream again.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @icaqttt @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @cl4uus @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @ilyrafe @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi @matthewswifeeee @uwuemlwlrld @l4venderia @chenslucy @darkreymbow @congratsloserr @skyslowalking @behindviolettwrites @allthoughtsmindfull @lovelylupin04 @ecstqzy @dasguccier

[primofate]

Confessions Series - Part 1: Overheard [Genshin Impact Male Characters]

Note: Welp I had the itch to write again so here I am. Though sleep deprived because baby keeps waking up every 3 hours to feed... I wanted to do this haha. Based on @soulprompts “I love you” prompts. What other character should I do?

Warnings: haven’t written in a while please excuse and tell me about pronoun slips, I’m sleep deprived, not proofread, some are just concepts of liking someone, having a crush on them, while some are full blown love confessions. SOME ARE ANGSTY, chose only the male characters I wanted to write for instead of forcing myself to do all of them.

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader  

Other works in this series: (Part 2 - Description)

Scenario: Talking to a friend about how you feel about him. Unbeknownst to you, he was listening, hidden round the corner. What does he do?

Aether

“He’s sweet,” You simply answer when asked what you like about Aether. “I mean, he’s a simple guy. He’s not a mystery, it’s not hard to read him nor to get along with him. I guess that’s one of the reasons why a lot of people like him.” 

“Uhuh,” your friend drawls, their head lazily resting on their hand. “but you don’t just like Aether. You seriously LIKE him,” 

You’re rendered speechless by the statement for a second, tripping over your first words, “Well--I mean--” and as if realizing you’re making a fool of yourself by speaking in garbles, you recover. “Yeah, I guess...” You don’t know why you admit to it, but it’s not like your friend didn’t already know.

What he does:

Is tempted to immediately walk up to you and reconfirm the conversation.

Stops himself for a minute and replays the whole conversation in his head, probably once, twice and maybe a third time.

Second guesses himself, but when he finally goes through all possible options, he realizes there’s no mistaking the overheard confession.

All the while, Paimon is nagging him to go talk to you. “You didn’t hear wrong! Stop thinking too much, hurry and go!” Ends up being pushed out into the open by his flying companion.

“Erm...Ahem” he coughs into his fist. “I...didn’t mean to eavesdrop...Y/N, sorry, but... can we continue this conversation somewhere else? Somewhere...a little more private?” and the shy smile he gives you is a tell tale sign that he had most likely felt the same.

Albedo

“His schedule is always busy. He has his hands full with Klee, on top of all the work he needs to do,” was your excuse to your friend when asked why you haven’t confessed to the alchemist yet. “I don’t think Albedo has time for this type of thing, you know? He doesn’t need a distraction.”

What he does:

His logical side agrees that he doesn’t need a distraction.

But the other part of him doesn’t mind if its you.

Pauses for a moment, thinks about it for a second, before confronting you about it just minutes later.

“...Schedules can be made flexible, Y/N,” you jump at his sudden voice. “Just as distractions...can sometimes be a good thing,” Albedo stretches a hand out to you. “...Care to test how good of one you can be to me?” 

Alhaitham

“Y/N, Alhaitham is FAR from stupid. There’s no way he hasn’t figured out that you have a crush on him,”

“Shush!!” You swerve around to your friend, ducking a little, as if that would help you become invisible. “People could be listening, besides, if that’s true, then it’s even worse. It means that he knows, and probably has no interest in me, so let’s just forget about it, ok?” 

What he does:

..................................No he doesn’t know. Sure he’s smart but............he could be dense when it came to these things. That, or he just didn’t know what to do.

Does not confront you about it immediately. In fact he turns around and walks away without being spotted, opting to think about his next steps instead of just rushing into the conversation.

Lo and behold a few days later he’ll show up in front of you with his usual stoic expression.

“Y/N,” he starts, and you freeze on the spot, looking up at him, blinking. 

“Y-Yes?” You haven’t seen nor heard from him in days and as usual, you attributed it to him being busy. Little did you know that he had been mulling over how to talk to you.

“I heard your conversation with (your friend) the other day,” straightforward was his answer to everything, even in this particular situation. 

It takes you a few seconds to internalize his words. You’re not even sure which conversation he means. You talk to (your friend) a lot. Your brows start to furrow in confusion, until he clarifies. 

“...I wouldn’t say that I completely have no interest in you,” he starts, and your shoulders tense up, now realizing which conversation it was. You could feel your cheeks start to burn, all you wanted to do was run away. 

Alhaitham holds back a sigh, “...Anyway, here is no place to talk about this... I’ll meet you at Puspa Cafe tonight, if you’re free,” 

You’re FAR from stupid too, and knew exactly what he was trying to do.

Ayato

“Besides why would the Lord Commissioner even look at someone like me?” you hiss at your friend who was trying to persuade you that Ayato also had the hots for you. It just seemed a little delusional to you.

“He takes the chance to rile you up every time he sees you. He’s obviously doing it on purpose,” your friend counters. You roll your eyes up to high heaven.

“He does that to everyone...” you conclude, knowing that Ayato had the habit of--though you don’t know if intentionally--giving his servants a scare. 

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to be so jealous,” your friend quips back, you send them a quick glare before going back to doing your own work.

What he does:

Doesn’t even bat an eye. Smirks as he hears the whole story. 

Confidently reveals his presence to the two of you, chuckling.

“Jealousy doesn’t usually paint a beautiful colour,” he starts, the overly pleasant smile on his face. You straighten up immediately, eyes changing into saucers when you realize he had heard the whole thing. You open your mouth to explain, but he beats you to it.

“But I must say it looks a little different on you, Y/N, almost charming,” The side of his lip quirks up the slightest bit into a subtle grin. You bite your lip, there he is again trying to rile you up, maybe (your friend) was right. 

“...Is there anything I can do for you Lord Commissioner?” you ask, trying to stray away from the subject. He only chuckles. 

“You’ll find that there are a LOT of things you can do for me, Y/N. Start by accompanying me to tea, hm?” He wasn’t really asking, it was almost a command. 

You wished your friend snickering on the side would just shut up.

Cyno

“...He’s a little intimidating don’t you think? I don’t know why you like him so much,” your friend comments, slacking off on their pile of paperwork. You roll your eyes at them. 

“Maybe because he works hard, unlike other people,” you shake your head a little. 

“As General Mahamatra he’s supposed to work hard. Just admit that you have weird tastes.” your friend counters, still procrastinating on their share of work.

“Okay, so what if he’s a little vicious in his ways? He’s just doing his job. Now, it would help me if you started doing yours as well,” 

What he does:

Doesn’t know what to do.

Stands hidden for quite a long time. The subject has already moved on and away from him.

Torn between revealing himself now or later. 

Can’t think properly so exits from the situation and comes back later that same day, when you’re still working with your friend.

As he approaches your table, your friend notices him first. (Your friend) nudges you with their elbow, tilting their chin up to let you know that someone was approaching. 

You pick your head up, and feel yourself go rigid when you see that it’s Cyno. At first you think to yourself that he might not be here to talk to you, maybe he’s just about to walk by...but he stops in front of your table and you’re left to wordlessly look up at him.

There’s a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

“...I value the high praise that you give me,” he starts and you immediately want to duck under the table and hide.

He heard. 

“O-Oh, G-General Mahamatra, you heard that...It’s...nothing, hard work deserves to be praised...” you avert your gaze down to the papers you were working on, pretending to continue and be busy with them. 

There was an awkward pause, your eyes darting up towards him for a second, checking if he was still looking at you, before breaking away again and furiously flipping through papers.

“...Do you want to play some TCG?” 

“Huh?” You end up with an incredulous look on your face, trying to gauge if he was serious. His face is still blank, but the usual tenseness in the way he carried himself gave way for a barely seen relaxation. It was hard to spot, but it was there. 

You ended up sighing a little in what you could only describe as relief, giving him a lopsided smile. “Sure, but go easy on me, I haven’t played in a while,”

“That’s fine. Perhaps a daily practice session will do you good,”

Dainsleif

“Mysterious, aloof, disappears into thin air... A man like that? You probably should stay away, Y/N. You don’t know what he dabbles in,” (Your friend) warns, looking at you with genuine concern. 

“Perhaps he has some secrets...but I don’t think he’s a bad guy at all. I’ve spent some time conversing with Dainsleif here and there,” you continue to wipe the tables, not noticing that the man you were talking about had long entered the tavern already and was now standing behind the two of you.

“At least he’s handsome, there’s that,” (Your friend) adds. 

“Sure, but that’s not the only reason I like him,” you laugh.

What he does:

Wonders if he heard the conversation right and overanalyzes what you mean by “like” him.

Either way it stirs a strange emotion in him, one that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Prefers to get things over with and thinks there’s no harm in confronting you immediately.

You hear someone clear their throat behind you. Thinking that it was a customer you turn around with a pleasant smile, only for it to slowly dwindle down into a shocked expression.

Dainsleif.

“Y/N,” he nods his head towards you casually. You gulp, force a smile, and nod back. “Hi, you’re early today,” just as your friend slips away from the conversation. Dainsleif doesn’t even spare them a glance.

He doesn’t have much to say about your comment of him being early. He doesn’t particularly know why he was early today either. Perhaps...fate would have him hear the conversation between you and (Your friend).

“Yes, well, it looks like there were benefits to being early today,” he meets you eye to eye, the intensity in his gaze almost makes you blush from your neck all the way up to the top of your head, but you fought the giddiness back. 

“...What can I get you?” there’s a shiver that threatens to run up your spine, wondering if your deflection was successful. Dainsleif closes his eyes momentarily, before opening them with a strange sense of courage. 

“Your company,”

Diluc

“It’s been years,” (Your friend) says, the two of you looking up at the massive oak tree of Windrise. They glance at you from the side of their eye before continuing. “Are you still in love with Diluc?”

There’s a breeze that passes, almost melancholic, and partly whispered of sorrow. “...I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving him.” You pick your hand up to rub at your arm. “Jean, Kaeya, Diluc and I...So many things have changed since we were kids...but I don’t think that spot for Diluc will ever go away,”

“Does he know, at least?” (Your friend) asks and you half scoff. 

“I’m not sure, I get the feeling he does, but doesn’t act on it. Which is why...maybe the only way to solve this emptiness is to leave Mondstadt altogether.” 

“Out of sight, out of mind huh?” (Your friend) claps your back, and turns around to start walking away with you.

What he does:

Internally a mess of emotions. Doesn’t know where to start. 

but he’s just standing there and he’s stuck watching (your friend) and you turn around to come face to face with him. 

He looks at you, a wave of memories and emotions flashing through his mind all at once, it almost overwhelms him. 

“D-Diluc,” you stutter, heart freezing in your chest. You see him take a steadying breath in, prying his gaze away from you and over to (Your friend).

“(Your friend), could you give us a minute?” he asks. (Your friend) obliges, passing you a quick glance before going ahead on their own. Another breeze runs by, ruffling his long red hair. 

“...I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” you start, and yet he doesn’t say anything, prompting you to continue talking. “...You don’t have to think about it too much, it’s just silly--”

“I wasn’t sure,” he cuts you off, eyes drawn to the ground now. “I wasn’t sure...if you really felt that way.” 

The statement somehow exasperates you. “You weren’t sure? All those times I stayed by your side when everyone else left--” then it hits you. “Or were you scared, Diluc?”

The quick grimace in his expression tells you the answer. His reply comes a few seconds later, “I was, I still am,” but he picks his head up, and finally looks you straight in the eye. “...but this time...” his fists clench on his side. “This time give me the chance to show you how much I really care about you,”

He was not going to lose you too.

Itto

“Seriously?! Itto? Arataki Itto? Are you for real?” (Your friend) announces to nearly half of the food stall, the other customers swerving around to look at the two of you. 

"Oh, say it a bit louder why don’t you?” You roll your eyes at your friend and continue eating.”

“Sorry. I just--Out of all the people you could choose, your huge crush is on that big brute??” your can tell by the look on your friend’s face that they think you have weird tastes.

What he does:

Butts in without even thinking of the conversation. Has no clue what’s going on.

“Crush?!”

You and your friend startle, swerving around to see none other than the oni with his hands on his hips. “Y/N?! You planning on crushing me?!” then he guffaws with laughter, slapping his knees in the process. “Yeah right, you’re no match for me!”

Your previously gaped open mouth slowly closes and your shoulders relax, sighing. You’re a little disappointed he doesn’t get it at all. Your friend shakes their head with a long sigh. “You stupid oaf, we don’t mean it that way...” 

Itto’s head tilts sideways, a genuinely confused look on his face. “No? Then... Watcha all talkin about?” 

You grab your friend’s arm and pull them forward the slightest bit. “It’s not important! Actually, we better get going--”

“Y/N has a CRUSH on you, idiot! Y/N LIKES you!” Your friend explodes, patience long gone. 

Itto blinks at the confession, his eyes darts towards you, “...Oh,” then there’s the slight tugging at his chest, he can’t help but beam and smile silly. “Yeah? You’re not too bad yourself Y/N! I like you too!”

You’re not sure if he really understood the confession in its entirety. 

Kaeya

“It’s all just fun and games with Kaeya. It doesn’t mean anything,” you laugh sheepishly, yet you rub the back of your neck a little.

“...Do you want it to be just fun and games?” your friend chides, and there’s a moment of silence. The two of you just sitting there already knowing the answer, it’s almost uncomfortable, until your friend sighs. 

“...Let’s change the subject,” 

What he does: 

responds immediately. Will not wait a second longer to come out of his hiding place and ask about what he just heard.

“How about let’s not?” Kaeya emerges out of nowhere, slipping into the seat next to you at the cafe. His poise is confident and instantly his head lazily places itself into the palm of his hand, gaze lingering at you. 

“Snowflake, I had no idea you felt like that,” his voice is smooth like ice and you bite your lip to keep yourself from saying something stupid.

“...I didn’t say anything though?” you countered, trying to evade the conversation. Your friend watches on with interest. 

“Silence speaks volumes, Y/N,” Kaeya scoots even closer to you, your shoulders touching each other. However, he maneuvers his arm around to lay on the seat behind you. “So if you’re opposed to what I’m about to do, better speak up,”

He leans closer, inch by inch, he waits for you to say something.

You stay silent.

He grins.

Scaramouche

“Hat guy? He’s brutal. But who am I to comment on your tastes, Y/N. You’ve always been weird,” (Your friend) chides, watching as you go over the bookshelf again. 

“Stop calling him that,” You murmur under your breath, more focused on finding the right book for your research. “That’s not his only distinctive feature, you know,” you continue, still engrossed in looking for a book.

“Oh? What else are his “distinctive features”?” (Your friend) drawls, rolling their eyes. 

You hum a little, then plop on the ground cross-legged, wanting to get a better look on the last row of books of the Akademiya’s library. “...His eyes,” you simply answer. “They’re a beautiful shade of violet-blue...He’s always glaring at someone half of the time but he actually has very pretty eyes,” 

There’s silence and you finally get the peace you need to concentrate. However, that silence is broken by a voice that you know all too well.

What he does:

is amused.

thinks its cute pathetic.

will still look angry but will have a hard time actually being angry.

will be cocky.

“My eyes, huh?”

It’s hard to completely turn around in your sitting position, so you do the best you can to turn, side eye landing on Scaramouche’s form. He has his arms crossed as usual, but there’s a smug smirk on his face. “Didn’t know it was that fascinating to you, bookeater,”

It was supposed to be an insulting nickname for you, who always had your nose in a book, but you took no offense to it at all.

You didn’t know what to say, so you continued staring at him. He being the anti-social person that he was, just stared back. There was a big gap of silence before he felt that it was becoming too awkward. 

“...What’re you looking for?” he blurted out.

“...A book...”

“Are you stupid? Of course you’re looking for a book. I meant what’s the title?” There his usual sneer was back again and he unfolded his arms to look at you unimpressively. 

“...A History of Inazuma: Volume 2...” you meekly replied, slowly realizing that he actually heard you praising him.

“You’re in the wrong section,” the exasperated sigh he gives out causes you to wince, and you turn away back to the bookshelf as if to shield you from all this embarrassment. 

“If it’s about Inazuma, you should just be asking me,” you blink as your peripheral catches sight of an outstretched hand. You tilt your head to see that he’s offering his hand, but his face is blank.

“...Well? Come on. I don’t have all day,”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling, something about the way he said it sounds threatening, but also slightly playful. But that’s just the way he was. 

You accept his hand, and he pulls you up easily.

Xiao

“Oh so that’s why you’re coming over more frequently...” (Your friend) grins, and you wave your hands around to tell them to quiet down. Adepti had good hearing after all.

“Well, I’m also coming over cause Verr Goldet needs more help these days in the kitchen. You guys are getting so much customers these days that Yanxiao has a hard time by himself,”

“Uhhuuhhhhhh, sure...was it also Verr Goldet who told you to try and master the Almond Tofu recipe from Yanxiao? Cause you’re awfully hell bent on trying to learn that recipe, according to Yanxiao,” 

You fall silent, feeling heat crawling up your neck. “I--” You start, searching for an excuse, but realized there was no escaping this one. “I just want to do something nice for Xiao, that’s all,” you innocently quip. “I...I know I can’t help him much, but maybe just cooking his favourite dish will help, even a little,”

(Your friend) smiles a little, knowing that the adepti probably heard everything. “That’s nice of you, Y/N. You must care about him a lot,” 

What he does:

once upon a time he would do absolutely nothing. because getting involved with humans is something he shouldn’t do.

But now he bides his time, and observes if it’s safe to open up. 

He wouldn’t outright thank you at first, but he’ll slowly show up in front of you a little more everyday.

He’s rather awkward, so at first he only nods his head as thanks when you leave the bowl of almond tofu on the ledge.

Eventually when he realizes you’re not going to stop cooking for him he goes the extra mile to do something simple for you too.

He places a stalk of your favourite flower on the ledge, right before you come to put down his bowl of almond tofu. 

I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Check it out here:

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[riordanness]

sweet nothing - [w.wonka]

wordcount: 1.1K

warnings: willy freaking wonka’s curls

requested: no

Something about this laundry place was giving me the creeps, but I’m sure if it’s the scary man who’d brought us here, the overly cheery lady with the awful teeth, or the much-too-convenient cheap as chips room.

Willy seems to be completely trusting in these people, though, and I trust him with anything, so I decide to just take it as it comes, and keep my eyes open for anything else strange.

We’re lead upstairs by Bleacher, with Mrs Scrubbit following from behind. She chatters the whole way up, bombarding us with information about the place and our room and how much impact this laundry business has had on the town itself.

Bleacher pushes open a door, and lets us pass. I step inside after Willy, and glance quickly around the simplistic room. It’s pretty, very white, and has little daisies on the wallpaper.

“There you two are,” Mrs Scrubbit says happily. I wonder to myself if her name, or Bleacher’s for that matter, are actually their real names, or if they just made them up for the glamour of it all. They are pretty catchy names.

“Thank you, Mrs Scrubbit,” I say, and Willy chimes in after me.

“Thank you both.”

Mrs Scrubbit, flustered, grins at us both and waves her hand in the air vigorously. “There’s a bar of soap and a washing cloth on the sink, and fresh linens in the cupboard over there.”

I give her a smile, and my worries from earlier are almost forgotten. This place truly is a miracle.

After they leave, and the door has closed, I realise how exhausted I am. I collapse onto the floor, leaning my head against the wall and closing my eyes. I let out a sigh. “Who knew one single day could be so busy, huh?”

I can hear Willy dropping his coat to the floor, and laughing quietly to himself. “Yes indeed, y/n.”

I open my eyes to the sight of him sitting on the edge of the bed, and it is only then I notice the most obvious of facts. There is only one bed in this room.

Willy seems to realise this at the same moment I do. “Oh,” he says.

“Oh,” I echo.

There’s a heat beat of silence, then Willy quickly gets to his feet. “I’ll sleep on the floor. You take the bed.”

“What?” I’m almost annoyed. My best friend is my favourite person, and I love him dearly, but he is almost too kind sometimes. Kindness is a virtue, but in Willy, it often hurts himself in the process.

“You take the bed,” Willy repeats.

“Don't be ridiculous,” I say, still on the floor. “It’s a big enough bed for us both. I won’t have the best chocolate maker in the universe sleeping on this cold stone floor. It’s uncomfortable.”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re literally sitting on the ground right now.”

I shrug. “Floor time is fun for me. Not for sleeping though. That would be kinda awful.”

Willy smiles softly. “Alright, bean. We can share.”

I have no idea why he calls me that, but I’ve long since given up on asking. He always just grins his wicked little smile and says something like, ‘I’ll tell you one day’.

I close my eyes again, and yawn. “I’m so tired, Will.”

“Don’t call me that.”

I laugh, and open my eyes again. “Sorry not sorry. Help me up.” I hold both my hands out to him.

Willy walks over, rolls his eyes at my antics, and pulls me to my feet.

“Come on,” he says softly, his fingers lingering near my unbrushed, unruly hair. “Let’s get you to bed, bean.”

“Okay,” I mumble, suddenly even sleepier. His quiet tone and gentle touch are pulling me even closer to the darkness of sleep. I let Willy pull off my jacket, and I slide out of my dress, leaving just my petticoat and undergarments on. I crawl under the covers, shimmying as close to the wall as I can to allow room for Willy.

He shrugs off his vest and shoes, switches off the light above us, and climbs in after me, lying as far away as possible on the other side of the bed. I understand the politeness in his gesture, but my tiredness is fogging my brain up, and I want him to be close.

“Willy?” I almost whine.

“Yeah, love?” he whispers.

“Can you hold me?” I mutter, my eyes shut tightly. I barely register his reply, but I do feel his strong arms as they tighten around my waist, and pull me close to him. Then, the darkness takes me.

I wake up slowly the next morning, my senses taking longer than usual to begin working. Smell is first. Chocolate and mint and rain. Then sound. The familiar sound of my best friend’s breathing. Then touch. Warm blankets, warm arms, my cheek pressed against a warm, moving, yet somewhat hard surface. Then, finally, sight.

My eyes clear, and I blink the sleep away, and I’m met with something extremely unexpected, but also very pleasant.

Willy’s sleeping face, only inches from my own, his dark curls spread across his forehead and the pillow we share. His arms are around me, holding me tightly even in his sleep. My head is resting on his chest, which is slowly rising and falling with his gentle breathing.

I myself try not to breathe, not daring to even move. I want nothing more than to extend this moment for as long as possible, maybe even forever.

Willy’s eyes flutter open, and their soft chocolate gaze lands on mine.

He smiles, and I’m almost certain it’s the prettiest thing in the world.

“Good morning, bean.”

“Hi,” I whisper. “You still owe me the reason behind that nickname.”

Willy smiles, his eyes flitting all over my face, as if he’s relishing the closeness between us as much as I am.

“Because,” he says slowly, drawing out the word. “You are as important to me as a cocoa bean is to chocolate.”

I let that fact sink in. “Oh,” I manage, my chest filling with all the love I have for this boy beside me.

“What’s wrong?” Willy tilts his head down to look at me properly, concern filling his features.

“Nothing,” I answer. “I just… love you, Willy Wonka. I really love you.”

He smiles again, wider this time. “And I love you, my little cocoa bean.”

[haddonfieldwhore]

offline - vince dunn

streamer!vince dunn x reader

summary: everyone in vince’s chat thinks he’s in love with you, which makes hiding your relationship interesting

warnings: a few uses of y/n, i think that’s it. not too proud of this one

word count: 0.9k

“bluepanda2, thank you for the 5 gift subs,” you heard vince say into his microphone as you passed by his streaming room. he had been on for nearly 4 hours already, and while you were used to the long streams he did by now, nearly six months into your relationship, you did still get impatient waiting for his attention sometimes. you had been friends with vince for a few years, having met through a mutual friend and staying in touch via text, until one day he gained the courage to ask you out, and here you were now. knowing the stress that the public eye could put a lot of stress on a new relationship, you had both decided it would be best to keep your romance a secret, at least for the first little while. months had gone by and some people were suspicious, and some people just wanted it to happen from the few times you had appeared on or been mentioned in streams.

you didn’t always watch his streams, honestly not having the time to some days, and also feeling like you were spying on him sometimes when you did. but tonight you found yourself missing the man who was just up the stairs from you, and curled up on the couch in his living room with the stream pulled up on your phone.

“guys i’m gonna wrap things up soon. i have a friend coming over so i have to hop off early tonight,” he explained.

- is it y/n?

- i bet it’s y/n

- ^^ i wish they would stream together again

“maybe one day y/n will come over and come on the stream again. i’ll ask them.” vince smiled, reading the chat.

- he’s blushing!!!

- dunner is in love <3

- //youtube link - vince simping compilation//

- are you two dating yet?

- ^^ they’re just friends

- ^^ sure they are lol

"chat, i need you to stop linking clips about me crushing on y/n," he laughed, the crinkles by his eyes on full display, along with the dimple in his cheek that you loved so much. “we’re just friends.”

you smiled as you watched your boyfriend interact with his viewers, knowing how much they meant to him. hopefully one day soon you would be able to tell them the truth, but you both weren’t ready yet. vince wrapped up the stream, and you shut your phone off as you heard his footsteps coming down the stairs.

“hey, you’re offline early today,” you smiled as he flopped onto the couch next to you. “how was the stream today?”

“it was good. did you watch any of it?” he asked.

“i just caught the last couple minutes,” you smiled mischievously. “you know, when everyone was saying how much you love me.”

“hmmm,” he hummed, pulling you close and kissing your lips softly. “they’re right.”

“do you think we should tell them soon?” you asked, and he shrugged.

“i want to,” he ran his hand over his face. “i just know how people can be. and once it’s out there we can’t take it back, you know?”

“yeah, i get it. for now i’m happy having you all to myself,” you smiled, pulling on his arm until he laid on top of you, his head resting on his chest. your fingers ran through his curls, the soft locks slightly matted down from wearing his headset for so long.

“did you miss me or something?” he teased, and you flicked his forehead with your finger.

“yes, actually,” you pouted, and he laughed as he crawled further on top of you, his hands on either side of your head as his body hovered above yours.

“baby if you want my attention, you just have to ask,” he said sweetly, kissing you again.

“another quote that would get added to the compilation video?” you teased.

“definitely,” he smiled, and it was you that kissed him this time, hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him down. his teeth played with your bottom lip as you felt more of his weight on top of you.

“are you tired, vin?” you asked, and he nodded, laying fully on top of you now and burying his face in the crook of your neck. you giggled as he kissed your neck, his stubble tickling against your skin. “vince-“ you whined as he nipped at the skin softly, his hands on your waist, fingertips sliding just under the hem of your sweater. he only hummed in response as he left wet kisses up to your jaw. his lips finally traveled up to your again for one more kiss, before he sat up.

“i’m sorry i never pay enough attention to you,” he said, and you shook your head.

“it’s okay, i’m just being clingy,” you laughed. it honestly wasn’t an issue, there were just some nights you wanted to be close to him when you couldn’t. “maybe i could hang out with you on stream again soon, if the viewers are okay with it.”

“sure, you can tomorrow night if you want,” he said, and a devilish smile tugged at his lips.

“why are you making that face?” you asked nervously and he laughed.

“no reason,” he laughed, before pointing at your neck.

“but if you’re going to be on the stream, we’re gonna have to hide that hickey.”

•

prompt @novvasdreamscape

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

[dix0nspretty]

Knives, Bikes, and Stitches, Oh My!

Summary: Daryl is working on his motorcycle and you watch. Too bad you can't keep your focus.

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader, 1.3k words

Era: Prison (again) because he's just so yummy...

TW: Mention of blood and stitches. Maybe chronic horniness?

Y'all loved my first story and I hope this one whets your appetites just as well! I have no idea how motorcycles or vehicles of literally any kind work, so please feel free to educate me in the comments.

You put the fear of God in Daryl every time he sees you with a knife.

It’s not that you can’t use one. On the contrary, you’re a force to be reckoned with when you’re fighting. Sometimes all that can be seen of you in a fight is the shine of blood-tinged metal as you slash and stab at whatever is attacking with your twin blades. No, your knives are comfortable and at home in your grip. Maybe too comfortable.

“How many times I got to tell ya to stop eatin’ off yer damn knife?” Daryl’s rough accent sounds out in the empty courtyard. His head is bowed low as he works on his bike, not looking up as he speaks.

I’m perched on the tabletop of one of the prison’s picnic tables eating a can of peaches. Daryl, for some reason unknown to me, had elected to start taking his bike apart and putting it back together and I followed along to watch the process. I don’t know shit about vehicles, much less motorcycles, but I like spending time with the grumpy man.

“It’s fine, I’m not gonna cut myself.” I tell him as I tilt my head down to drag a slice of peach off the blade. Daryl’s eyes don’t move from the work in front of him, but I can feel him watching me. I pull the chunk into my mouth and lick the blade clean of the sticky juice.

“Told ya to cut it out.” I’m eating the canned fruit haphazardly, not paying any attention to how close I am to the edge. Daryl shakes his head. He knows it’s a matter of time before I cut my lip or tongue.

At his repeated command, I roll my eyes but pull away from the edge of my knife. I set the can of peaches down and watch him. His brown hair is getting longer now and it’s sliding down into his eyes, shielding most of his face from my watchful gaze.

“What are you doing, anyways?” I ask. I scoot myself closer to the edge of the table and peer down over his shoulder. He has one of his tools in his hand and some pieces of metal I can’t identify. It is roughly the size of my fist and cylindrical. Whatever it is, it looks important.

Daryl glances over his shoulder, feeling my curious eyes looking down. He huffs and continues his task. “Workin’.”

“No shit. Working on what?” I’m playing with my knife in my fingers, absentmindedly twisting and flipping it. Daryl looks up at me through his hair, squinting one eye against the sunlight. My breath catches in my throat, and I try to play it cool.

“Do ya really want to know or are ya jus’ bored?” He asks in his gruff voice. I don’t answer for a second. He looks so pretty. Get a grip, Y/N, I think to myself.

“Really want to know. Come on, I don’t know anything about bikes. Teach me something.” Daryl squints at me for several seconds longer and I’m convinced he’s going to send me inside to bother someone else, but he slowly starts talking.

“’M cleanin’ the carburetor.” He tilts his hand up to show me the same piece I was looking at earlier. “It’s startin’ to get clogged.”

“Oooookay. What’s that do?”

“It keeps the engine runnin’ smooth, basically. Don’t keep it clear and that can fuck up the bike, make it stall or overheat. Gotta take it apart and clean it every few months.”

Daryl lets me watch over his shoulder as he points out different parts of the carburetor and how to clean them. After a few minutes, his gruff voice starts to fade out and my mind begins to wander.

He just looks so good. His hands are greasy and dirty from all of his work today and his biceps are sweaty from the Georgia heat. He’s wearing one of his simple black shirts that already fit him so well and the sweat is only making him look more delicious. I’m watching his hands work over the small brass jets when I feel burning heat in my palm and look down.

I’d been messing with my knife the entire time and cut myself. I instinctively let go of the blade and it hits the concrete with a harsh clang. Daryl’s head lifts at the noise and he spins around right as I rush to tuck both hands behind my back. I look like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar and I’m trying to hide the chocolatey evidence. Except this time, it’s blood.

Daryl’s eyes run over me for a second, then flick down to my knife as it sits on the dirty floor. He slowly bends down and picks it up. “Y/N.” He starts, a low warning in his tone.

“It’s fine! I’m fine, I just dropped it.” My voice rambles out. There’s a high, nervous note to it and I’m hoping to God he doesn’t notice.

He raises an eyebrow. “If yer fine, why’s the knife got fresh blood on it?” Fuck.

“Uhhhhh.” I look around the courtyard, trying to find an excuse. I, naturally, see nothing. “Magic?”

Daryl huffs and crosses his arms. “Let me see your hands.”

I wince. I don’t want to get in trouble, but I can feel the blood dripping off my hand, and it stings. The longer I hold off showing him the angrier he’ll get.

“Y/N. Hand, now.” Daryl’s voice leaves no room for arguments.

“Jus’, don’t be mad?” I ask. He says nothing and I sigh, then slowly move my hands back in front of me. The blood is quickly evident on my skin.

“God damn it, girl. Why can’t ya ever listen to me?” Despite his rough tone, his hands are gentle as he takes my wrist and tilts my hand, inspecting the damage. I risk a glance at my hand. There’s a slash across my entire palm and more blood than there should be. It’s going to need stitches.

“Ya need stitches.” Told you.

 Daryl looks up from my hand but doesn’t let go of my wrist. His eyes lock with mine and he gives me a warm look. There’s exasperation and concern and I don’t know what to do with it. He takes a surprisingly clean rag from his pocket and ties it around my bleeding palm, firmly but not enough to hurt.

I can’t help but be surprised by just how gentle he’s being with me. I was expecting a pop in the side of the head and a banishment to Hershel’s cell. I look up at him through my lashes, waiting for my verbal lashing. After almost a minute, I realize there is none.

“Does this mean I gotta go in now?” I try to keep the potential disappointment from my voice and don’t entirely succeed.

“Yeah, yer going to go get those stitches. Ya weren’t listenin’ anyways.” He grumbles at me. “The hell were you doin’?”

I look away from him. I do not want to explain that I was too busy being horny over him to notice that I gouged my palm open. I risk a glance at him and I’m caught by those ocean-blue eyes.

“I was watching your hands…”

Daryl pauses, then snorts. “Maybe instead of watchin’ my hands ya should’ve been watching yours. Go get your damn stitches and I’ll show ya somethin’ else.”

[citysuk]

echoes of us | anakin skywalker

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader

summary: anakin has spent the last four years away from you, consumed by his duties as a jedi, trying to move past the pain of your departure. although seeing you again wasn't something that he was expecting, the reunion leads to a tense confrontation, where anakin's deep-seated feelings clash with his lover's sense of duty, highlighting the tragic consequences of their forbidden relationship.

words: 7,1k words (oops)

warnings: please, you already know me so ANGST. kinda manipulative anakin¿ only a little bit. stubborn reader for the sake of the plot, i'm sorry (i'm not). a little bit of spicy hehehhe. no smut tho. no use of y/n but no oc neither. no proofread. i won't say a word about the finale so read to know what happens at the end 😤

notes: i just- (SATURATED SCREAMS). i'm on a star wars binge and i just couldn't help myself, i needed to write this. all i want in life is someone to love me like anakin loves her.

It's been four long years since you left, and Anakin Skywalker has tried to move on with his life. He throws himself into his duties as a Jedi, taking on more missions and responsibilities. He pushes himself to his limits and beyond, trying to forget about the pain of losing you. But no matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to shake the memories. You're always there, lurking in the back of his mind, a constant reminder of what he lost. His heart still aches for you, and he still feels a sense of emptiness inside him.

As the years have passed, he has become more stoic, more reserved. He barely smiles anymore, and his laugh is rare. His fellow Jedi see these changes in him and wonder what has happened to make him so serious and cold. But Anakin keeps his emotions buried deep inside, never letting them surface, never letting anyone see the pain he's feeling. He's become a shadow of his former self, the bright-eyed and carefree Padawan replaced by a hardened and withdrawn Jedi Knight.

As the Clone Wars rage on, Anakin throws himself into battle, fighting with a ferocity and intensity that borders on feral. He's become a skilled and feared warrior, known for his bravery and skill, but also for his ruthless efficiency and lack of mercy towards his enemies. Even his fellow Jedi, the ones who are closest to him, cannot penetrate the shell he’s built around himself. He hides his emotions so well that it’s as if they don’t exist anymore, and no one suspects the depth of the pain he’s carrying inside him. He still feels your loss like a physical wound, and he fears that it will never heal. But he cannot let himself think of it, cannot allow himself to dwell on the past. He has a duty to the Jedi Order and the Republic, and longing can distract him from that.

So he goes through the motions of being a Jedi, fighting in the war, protecting the innocent, and doing his best to serve the greater good. But deep down, he knows that he'll never be truly happy again, that he'll carry his pain to the grave.

There are times, when he’s alone in the darkness of night, that he lets his guard down, that is when he allows his emotions to surface. And in those moments, he allows himself to think of you, to remember the happy times you had together, to ache for what might have been. But then, as the night ends and the morning comes, he pushes those thoughts away, locking them back up inside him, and he goes back to being the stoic and reserved Jedi Knight that everyone expects him to be.

And the cycle of pain and loneliness continues day after day, year after year. He keeps on living, fighting, and serving, but deep down, he knows that a part of him will always be empty, the part that you took when you left.

He wonders sometimes if you ever think of him and if you ever reflect on your time together with the same sense of melancholy and regret that he does. But he doesn’t allow himself to hope for that. It’s better to just keep pushing forward, to keep fighting the war and doing his duty.

That's until he hears the news that your father is coming to visit the Order. His heart skips a beat it's the first thing that he feels. He knows that since you went back to your planet your father never travels without you by his side, and this won't be the exception. His mind reels at the possibility of seeing you again. It’s been four years since you left to help your father in his political arrangements. Four long and lonely years. The thought of being in your presence again, even for a brief moment, fills him with a mix of emotions. Anticipation and dread, hope and fear.

He tries to keep his emotions in check, not wanting to get his hopes up too high. The idea of seeing you again after all this time is too good to be true. Besides, he knows that there is a small chance that you will not come to the temple, but he decides to embrace the possibility of at least seeing you.

When the masters of the Order confirmed that you would arrive with your father, he couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline running through his whole body. There's gotta be some sort of catch in this whole situation. But the more he thinks about it, the more he wants it and needs it.

As the day of your arrival approaches, he can't help but feel anxious. He doesn't know what to expect, how he'll react when he sees you. Will he be able to keep his emotions in check? Or will they surface in a wave of longing and regret? He tries to prepare himself, to steel himself for the moment. He tells himself it's just a visit, that it doesn't mean anything. But deep down, he knows that's not true. He's been waiting for this moment for years, and he can't deny the excitement and anticipation that's building inside him.

When the day finally arrives, he waits anxiously in the Temple, trying to remain calm. But his heart is racing, his palms are sweaty, and he can barely keep still. He's acutely aware of every passing moment, every second that brings him closer to seeing you again. His fellow Jedi notice his change in demeanor. He's usually so stoic and collected, but now he's jittery and restless, out of character for him. They wonder what could be causing this change, and they eye him with curious and sometimes amused glances. But Anakin ignores them, his thoughts solely focused on the moment ahead. He rehearses different scenarios in his head, trying to figure out how he’ll act when he sees you. But no matter how he imagines it, he can’t quite predict what will happen. The thought of facing you again after so long both thrills and terrifies him.

And then, finally, the moment arrives. He sees you walking through the Temple, in the company of your father and a few other dignitaries. The sight of you takes his breath away. You’ve grown, your features more mature and defined. But the sight of you holding the hand of another young politician he heard being called Kenth Cardas it's what makes him feel sick to the stomach. His heart clenches as he watches you, a sudden realization hitting him like a knife to the heart. You’re with someone else. Another man. And the pain that washes over him is sharper and more intense than any pain he’s ever felt before.

It takes all his willpower to keep his composure, to keep the expression of his face neutral. But inside, he’s seething with jealousy and hurt. He had been hoping, even expecting, for you to be single.

The thought of another man’s hands on you, another man’s eyes taking in your beauty, it’s almost too much for him to bear. He watches as you, your father, and your companion make your way through the Temple, greeting the Jedi and discussing diplomatic matters. Every step you take, every word you utter, it feels like the knife is being twisted in his heart. He wants to walk up to you, to pull you away from the other man and take you for himself. But he knows that’s not an option. You’re not his. You never were.

The scene is too abhorrent for him, he cannot bear another second of seeing you with another man that isn't him. With a lump in his throat and tears of frustration pricking at his eyes, Anakin turns and strides away from the scene, the sound of your laugh following him as he goes. He can’t stay there, can’t watch you pretending to be happy with someone else. It’s too painful, too agonizing. He needs to get away, to be alone, and try to process the torrent of emotions that threatens to overwhelm him. He heads to one of the quieter parts of the Temple, a place where he can be alone and try to get his emotions under control. He leans against the cold stone wall, his hands clenching into fists. He tries to push the image of you with another man out of his mind, but it’s burned into his memory, seared into his eyeballs. He’s never felt this level of jealousy and hurt before, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. He feels like he’s unraveling like everything he’s worked to keep under control is suddenly slipping through his fingers. He punches the wall in impotent rage, the pain in his knuckles a welcome distraction from the pain in his heart. He wants to scream, to shout, to let out all the emotions that are boiling inside him. He stays still there for a few minutes which seems like hours, until he feels a presence behind him.

He turns, his heart racing as he senses who it is. And sure enough, there you are, standing a few feet away from him, looking at him with a mixture of concern and uncertainty. An uncomfortable silence settles between them as they stare at each other. The air is thick with emotion and tension, and Anakin feels his heart thudding in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say, or how to react.

He studies you as you stand there, his eyes roving over your face, taking in every detail. You’re even more beautiful than he remembers, but there’s a sense of sadness and resignation in your eyes that he doesn’t quite understand. He wants to say something, to break the silence that hangs between you like a thick fog. But the words stick in his throat, and he can’t force them out. Instead, he just stands there, staring at you like an idiot.

Taking a deep breath, you break the silence, your voice soft and hesitant. “Ani... Can I talk to you? For a moment.”

Anakin nods, barely able to speak. His heart is racing, his mind spinning. He can’t believe you’re really standing here in front of him, that he’s actually talking to you again after all this time. “Of course,” he manages to say, his voice rough and raspy.

You take another step closer, the distance between you feeling like an eternity. You look up at him, your eyes searching his face as if you’re looking for something. “It’s been a long time, you've grown,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods again, feeling a lump in his throat. He wants to tell you how much he’s missed you, how many nights he’s spent thinking of you, yearning for you. But the words won’t come. He’s scared, scared to show you the depth of his feelings, scared that you’ll reject him. “Yeah, it has,” he manages to reply, his voice flat and emotionless.

You notice his tone, the way he’s putting up his walls, trying to keep his emotions in check. You know him too well, you can sense how he was feeling, the storm of emotions raging inside him. But you also know how stubborn he can be, how he’s willing to suffer in silence rather than admit his true feelings. You take another step closer, closing the distance between you even further. You reach out to touch his arm, your hand tentative and gentle, like you’re handling a wild animal. He freezes at your touch, his breath catching in his throat. He can feel the heat of your hand through the fabric of his sleeve, the warmth of your touch seeping into his skin. He wants to reach out and pull you to him, bury his face in your hair, and breathe in your scent. But he stands still, frozen in the moment, unable to move. You can feel his tension, the way his body is coiled tight like a spring. But you can also see the flicker of emotions in his eyes, the way his walls are crumbling as he stares at you. You know that underneath the hard exterior, there’s a part of him that’s aching to be let out, yearning for affection and connection.

You move closer still, your hand still gently resting on his arm. You’re so close now that he can feel your breath on his skin, the warmth of your body almost touching his. He shivers involuntarily, overwhelmed by your proximity. He wants to pull you to him, to hold you tight, and never let you go. He looks down at you, his eyes roving over your face, taking in every detail. He notices the flecks of gold in your eyes, the slight blush on your cheeks, the curve of your lips. It’s all he can do to keep his composure, to keep his emotions in check. But seeing you this close to him, feeling your touch on his skin, it’s like a dam breaking inside him. He takes a shuddering breath, trying to steady himself. He wants to tell you how much he’s missed you, how much he’s still in love with you, and how much he’s been hurting since you left. But the words won’t come, stuck in his throat like they’re glued there.

He’s torn between the conflicting desires to push you away and to pull you closer. Part of him wants to protect himself from further hurt, but a greater part of him is desperate to have you close, to feel your touch, and to hear your voice. He stands there, caught in an agony of indecision, his heart and his mind warring with each other. He wants to do the right thing, the sensible thing. But when it comes to you, he’s never been able to do what’s smart or pragmatic. He’s always been guided by his emotions, and right now, his emotions are screaming at him to take what he wants, consequences be damned. He can feel his resolve weakening, the walls he’s built around his heart crumbling. He’s always been a man of action, but right now, he doesn't know what to do.

You look up at him, your heart racing in your chest. You can sense the turmoil inside him, the storm of emotions raging in his eyes. You know that he’s struggling to keep his composure, but you also know how much he’s hurting. You take a deep breath, summoning up the courage to say what you need to say. “Ani, I didn’t forget the time we spent together, the promises we made.”

His eyes widen at your words, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn’t expected you to say that, to admit that you’ve been thinking of him all this time. He feels a surge of hope and longing rise in his chest, his breath catching in his throat. You pressed on, your voice was soft but firm. “The friendship we maintained for so many years will always be marked in my mind, no matter where I am.”

He feels his heart skip a beat at your words. It’s what he’s wanted to hear for so long, the confirmation that you still think of him, that there’s still a chance for them.

He stands there, frozen in the moment, caught between the desire to pull you to him and the fear that if he does, it will only end in heartbreak. He doesn’t know what to say, or how to react. He feels like he’s in a dream like this isn’t happening.

He looks down at you, his eyes roving over your face. He sees the honesty and vulnerability you’re showing him. He wants to believe you, he wants to let himself hope. But he can’t shake the feeling that this is just a cruel trick, the vision of you holding that man's hand it's something that he can't shake off his head. He feels that he’s going to wake up any minute and find himself alone again.

He starts to pull away, his walls going up again. “I don’t believe you,” he says, his voice cold and distant.

Your eyes widen at his words, your heart sinking at the tone of his voice. You had expected some resistance, but you didn’t expect him to deny your feelings outright. "What I'm saying it's truthful, I never stopped thinking about you"

He shakes his head, his eyes hard and cold. He wants to push you away, to protect himself from the pain. “I don’t want to hear it,” he says gruffly. “It’s too late, it’s been four years. You made your choice when I asked you to stay but you left.”

You blink back tears at his words, the hurt and anger in his voice like a knife to your gut. You had hoped that he would understand, that he would see how much you still cared for him. “You know that what we were feeling exceeded friendliness and was wrong, the attachments are prohibited. This was for something bigger than you and me both,” you say, looking at him almost guilty.

He scoffs at your words, his anger rising. “Don’t talk to me about attachments. I know the Code, I know about the stupid rules. But don’t tell me that what we had meant anything to you since you come here now holding another man's hand.” Anakin is seething with jealousy now, his hands clenching into fists. The thought of you with another man, another man touching you and holding you, it’s more than he can bear. He wants to grab you and shake you, to make you understand how much the sight of you with someone else hurts him.

He takes a step closer, looming over you. He’s taller and stronger than you, and he towers above you, his presence intimidating. “Tell me the truth,” he growls. “Did you ever really love me, or was it all just a lie?”

Your heart is racing in your chest as he looms over you, his eyes flashing with anger and hurt. You can feel the tension in the air, the danger and volatility of the situation. “Of course I loved you,” you say, your voice shaking just a little. “I loved you with all my heart, and I still do.”

He sneers at your words, his face twisting into a cruel smile. He doesn’t believe you, doesn’t want to believe you. It’s easier to think that you’re lying, that you never really loved him at all. “Prove it,” he snaps. “Prove that you love me.”

You’re taken aback by his challenge, his demand. You didn’t expect him to ask you to prove your feelings, to put them to the test. “What… what do you mean, prove it?” you ask, your voice small and uncertain.

He takes another step closer, his body almost touching yours. He’s so close that you can feel the heat of his skin, the tension radiating off him in waves. “Kiss me,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “Kiss me like you mean it. Show me that you’re not just playing with me.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the intensity of his gaze, and the heat of his body. You’re nervous and hesitant, but you also feel a pang of longing and desire. You want to prove to him that your feelings are real, that you’re not just toying with him. You can feel his breath on your lips, the heat of his mouth just inches away from yours. "I'm engaged." You blurt out.

His face darkens at your words, the mention of your engagement like a slap in the face. He feels a surge of irrational jealousy and anger, the idea of you marrying someone else infuriating him. “So what?” he snaps. “You’re engaged to someone else, but you’re still here, standing here in front of me, telling me that you love me. Kiss me. You said you still love me. Prove it.”

You're taken aback by his insistence, his refusal to listen to reason. "It's not that simple, Ani," you say, trying to maintain your composure. "I'm with another person now, and it wouldn't be right to-"

He cuts you off, grabbing you by the wrists and pulling you to him so that your bodies are pressed together. He’s breathing heavily, his chest heaving with emotion. He’s on the edge, barely holding it together. He can feel the warmth of your body pressed against his, the scent of your skin, the beat of your heart. “Damn the rules, damn the Code,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “I want to feel your lips on mine. I want to taste you, I want to hold you. I don’t care about anything else.”

You can see the desperation in his eyes, the hunger and need. You’re torn, part of you wants to give in to his demand, to give yourself over to the passion and desire that always existed between you. But another part of you is wary, knowing that this is dangerous, that indulging in this could lead to nothing but pain and heartache. "Ani, stop," you say, your voice gentle but firm. "We can't do this. We can't let ourselves go down this path."

He scoffs at your words, his grip on your wrists tightening. He can’t believe you’re still resisting him, still holding back when you’ve already admitted that you still love him. “Why not?” he asks, his voice a low growl. “What’s stopping us? You said you love me. You can’t deny that you want this. I can see it in your eyes.”

You feel your resolve weakening, the heat of his body and the intensity of his gaze making it hard to think straight. "I can't do this to Kenth," you say, trying to hold onto your reasoning. "I can't just throw away what I have with him. I can't hurt him like that. He's a good man."

He scoffs again, his jealousy flaring at the mention of your fiancé. To him, he's nothing more than a rival, a hindrance to what he wants. "A good man," he sneers. "What does he have that I don’t? What can he give you that I can’t?"

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question. You know that your fiancé is a good person, kind and respectful, but you also know that he’s not the same as Ani. There’s something about your history with Anakin, something about the passion and intensity of your connection, that’s unique and special. “It’s not about what he has or what he can give me,” you say, your voice quiet but firm. "It's about the future and following the rules for the sake of everyone."

He feels a pang of jealousy and bitterness at your words, the idea of you building a life with someone else it's like his biggest nightmare turning into reality.

“You’re mine,” he says through clenched teeth. “You will always be mine. I don’t care about your fiancé, your future, or anything else. I only care about you. So stop thinking about what you should do, and what you shouldn’t do, and just feel. For once in your life, just let yourself feel what you know you want.”

His words strike a chord within you, the intensity and possessiveness of his declaration igniting a spark of desire deep inside you. You can feel yourself weakening, your resolve cracking under the weight of his words. “Ani, please,” you say, your voice little more than a whisper. “This isn’t fair.”His words send a shiver down your spine, the heat of his body and the strength of his grip making it impossible to resist him. You’re caught between reason and emotion, torn between your loyalty to your fiancé and the deep-seated love you still feel for him. “Please…” you whisper, your voice breaking. “You’re not thinking straight. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

He looks down at you, his eyes burning with intensity. “I know exactly what I’m doing,” he says, his voice fierce and determined. “I’m claiming what should have always been mine. I’m taking what I want. You.” He leans down, his mouth hovering mere inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. The tension between you is electric, the air thick with desire and need. Your breath catches in your throat, your heart racing in your chest. You can feel the heat and power radiating off of him, the primal force of his need and desire nearly overpowering your senses. You know that you should resist, that you should push him away and run before it’s too late. But you can’t bring yourself to do it. Your body is drawn to his, your mind consumed with the need to feel his lips on yours.

He can see the conflict in your eyes, the battle between your loyalty and your desires. He can tell that you’re close to breaking, close to giving in to what you both want. He leans in even closer, his lips practically touching yours. “Stop fighting it,” he whispers, his voice low and sultry. “Stop trying to be strong, and just let go. I know you want this. You’ve always wanted this.“ His words send a jolt of electricity through your body, the truth of them hitting you like a ton of bricks. You know that he’s right, that deep down you’ve always wanted this, always wanted him. You know that no matter how hard you try to deny it, there will be a part of you that will always belong to him. You can feel your resistance crumbling, your body and mind completely under his control.

He senses your surrender, the last of your resistance crumbling beneath the weight of his words and his touch. He can feel the heat and desire radiating off you, the air between you electric and charged. Without another word, he closes the tiny gap between you and captures your lips with his own. The moment his lips meet yours, it’s like a circuit is completed. The floodgates of long-suppressed desire burst open, and you kiss him back with a passion that takes your breath away. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, the intensity and heat of it like a storm, crashing over you and consuming you whole. You respond to the kiss with equal hunger and fervor, his hands moving to cup your face, to pull you closer to him. He wants to devour you, to possess you completely. He can feel the tension building between you, the passion and need threatening to overwhelm you both.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him towards you and molding your body against his. You can feel his strength, his power, the taut muscles of his back, and the heat of his skin beneath his robes. The kiss deepens, your mouths moving together in a dance of desire and need. Your hearts are racing, your bodies electrified by the heat of the kiss.

You feel the possessive urgency in his touch, the hunger and need in his every movement. You can feel the jealousy and the anger, the primal need to possess you completely. And despite yourself, you feel your body responding to his touch, igniting a fire deep within you that you thought was long extinguished.

He breaks the kiss, his eyes burning into yours, his body still pressing you against the wall. He’s panting, his breathing ragged and uneven, his body vibrating with need. “You’re mine,” he growls, his voice raw and hoarse. “No one else is ever going to touch you, no one else is going to have you. I want you to leave him.“

Your mind is hazy, your thoughts clouded by the heat and desire coursing through your body. You know that you should resist him, however, you want to tell him that he owns your body and soul completely. But your mind betrays you, your words coming out in little more than a breath. "I... I can't," you whisper, your voice trembling.

The words are like a cold bucket of water to his face, his eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and anger. He pulls back from you slightly, his hands still on your hips, anchoring you to the wall. “Why not?” he bites out, his voice rough and sharp. “What’s stopping you?“

You try to find the words to explain, to tell him that it’s too much, that you’re still engaged to someone else. But before you can form the words, he’s leaning back in, his body pressing against yours once again. “Tell me,” he says, his voice a low growl in your ear. “Tell me why you can’t be mine. I want to hear you say it.“ The heat and desire that was coursing through you moments ago has faded, replaced by a sense of guilt and confusion. You know that you should put your foot down, that you should remind him of your engagement. But you’re finding it increasingly hard to think straight as he presses his body against yours, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear. “It's a political arrangement.” You manage to say, the words coming out in a shaky breath.

A low, possessive growl escapes his throat as he hears your words. "What do you mean, a 'political arrangement'?" he snaps, his hands tightening on your hips. "Explain."

You take a shaky breath, your body still pressed against the cool surface of the wall. The primal possessiveness of his touch sends a shiver down your spine. “My marriage. It’s an arrangement made by our families,” you explain, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s meant to strengthen our families’ political relationships.”

His jaw clenches at your words. The thought of you entering into a political arrangement with someone else, someone who didn’t deserve you, is enough to make his blood boil. He moves his body impossibly closer, his hands shifting to cup your face, his voice a low growl. “So your family basically sold you to someone else for political gain?”

Your heart sinks at the harsh truth of his words. In the back of your mind, you’ve always known that the engagement was more about politics than love. But the truth hurts, especially hearing it said out loud. You can feel the tension and possessive anger in his body, the way his body is pressed against yours like a cage. You know he’s not going to let this go easily. You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Essentially, yes.“

His mind reels at your admission, his anger and jealousy growing even stronger. He can’t believe that your family would treat you like a bargaining chip like a possession to be traded away for political gain. “And you agreed to this?” he practically spits out, his voice thick with anger. “You agreed to marry someone you don’t even love?“

Your heart twists at the anger and hurt in his voice, but you can’t deny the truth of his words. You did agree to marry someone you don’t love, all because of your family’s political aspirations. You nod again, your eyes downcast. You’re ashamed and embarrassed, and guilt washes over you like a wave. You know you’ve hurt him by agreeing to marry someone else, but you don’t know how to fix it.

He pulls back slightly, his hands falling from your face. He feels a mix of anger, hurt, and jealousy coursing through him, the primal possessiveness warring with the need to protect you. “So you’re going to marry him?” he asks, his voice low and hoarse. “You’re going to spend the rest of your life with someone you don’t even love? Are you gonna be happy with that?“

You find yourself unable to meet his gaze. You’ve never thought about it that way before, but there isn't much that you can do. You shake your head slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “It's the best outcome for everyone. For my family, the Order, the Force... and for you.“

His jaw clamps shut at your words, a surge of anger and frustration coursing through him. The thought of you marrying someone else, settling for a life that is anything less than what you deserve, is unbearable to him. “Best outcome for everyone?” he grits out, his voice raw with emotion. “Except for you. What about what you want? What about your happiness?“ His words sting bitterly, the shame and guilt you feel growing stronger. You know that your happiness is not a priority in this arrangement, that it never has been. But the truth hurts, especially when it’s said out loud. You shake your head again, your voice trembling. “It doesn’t matter. I have a duty, the responsibility to see this through.“

His heart aches at your words, the fact that you’re willing to sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of duty is something he can’t understand. It goes against everything he believes in, against everything he fights for. “Duty and responsibility be damned,” he snaps, his voice edged with anger and frustration. “You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be with someone who loves you, who worships the ground you walk on. Not some political arrangement.“

Your heart clenches at his words, the mix of anger and desperation in his voice bringing tears to your eyes. You know he’s right, deep down you’ve always known that you deserve more than you’re settling for. But duty and responsibility have always been pounded into you, and the thought of going against them is terrifying. “It’s not that simple,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s not just about me. It’s about the Republic, the Jedi Order…”

He scoffs at your words, the anger and frustration growing stronger. The fact that you’re still focusing on what's expected of you, even after everything you’ve just shared, is frustrating for him. “None of that matters if you’re not happy. You’re not some pawn to be used in someone else’s game.“

Your heart aches more with every word he says, the truth of them echoing in your head. You know he’s right, you know that your happiness should come first, but the years of conditioning and expectations are hard to break. “I can’t just... abandon everything...” you say, your voice weak. “I can’t disappoint them.“

His eyes flash with anger and disbelief, his patience wearing thin. “You’re more worried about disappointing them than about your happiness? That’s a load of Bantha poodoo and you know it. They don’t deserve your loyalty.”

He's right, you know he is. You've been putting everyone else's needs above your own for so long that it's become second nature. You look up at him, tears streaming down your face. "But what about you?" you whisper, your voice trembling.

“What about me?” he echoes, his voice hoarse with emotion. “You’re choosing someone else over me. You’re choosing a life of political duty over our happiness, over what we could have together.“ He steps closer to you again, his body once again pinning you against the wall. His hands reach out to cup your face, his touch gentle despite the storm of emotion raging within him. “We could have a life together. We could be happy.“

Your heart clenches at his words, the weight of the decision you’re facing hitting you like a ton of durasteel. You know what you want, deep down you know that you’d give anything to be with him. But responsibility, a lifetime of conditioning, is still weighing heavily on you. You lean into his touch, your eyes falling closed. Your voice is a whisper, choked with emotion. “Is that possible?” He feels a pang of pain at your question, the doubt in your voice makes him want to just keep you in his arms until you understand what you mean to him. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life. “Yes,” he says, his voice steady and firm, despite the emotions churning inside him. “It’s possible. It’s more than possible. It’s what I want, what I’ve wanted since I met you.“ His hands tighten on your face, his touch gentle yet possessive. “Please, don’t marry him. Choose me.“

His words and touch cut through the fog of doubt and confusion surrounding you. The thought of choosing him, of having a life with him, fills you with a sense of longing and hope that you’ve never known before. For the first time, the thought of your future isn’t shrouded in obligations, it’s filled with love and happiness. You let out a ragged breath, your body tense. “I don’t want to marry Kenth.” You whisper.

His heart nearly leaps out of his chest at your words, a surge of triumph and relief coursing through him. He pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you like a vise, pulling you flush against him. His body is taut with need and desire, the primal possessiveness in him raging stronger than ever. “Then don’t.” he whispers into your ear, his voice a low growl. “Be with me.“

Your body melds against him, your trembling hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. You feel a mix of relief and desire and fear coursing through you as you look into his eyes, your voice a whisper. “What if they find out? What if they try to... stop us? Or worse, haunt us?“

He pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes burning with a mix of passion and determination. The thought of anyone trying to stop or hurt you fills him with a fierce, protective rage. “They’ll try,” he says, his voice hard. “But I’ll never let anything happen to you. I’ll protect you, no matter what. And if anyone tries to stop us, they’ll have to go through me first.“

His words, full of certainty and strength, send a shiver down your spine. You’ve never felt so wanted, so desired, so protected. The thought of being with him, of having his love and loyalty, is both exhilarating and terrifying. You look into his eyes, searching for reassurance. “And what if it doesn’t work?” you ask hesitantly. “What if we can’t make it?“

He sees the doubt and fear in your eyes, and his heart clenches at the thought of losing you. He pulls you even closer, his body pressed against yours, his arms wrapped around you fiercely. “It will work,” he says, his voice firm and unwavering. “I’ll make sure it does. I won’t let anything come between us.“ He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low growl. “I love you. And I won’t let anyone or anything take you away from me.“

His words, spoken with such unwavering conviction, send a jolt of hope and love through you. You’ve never felt so safe, so cherished, so loved. You can feel the heat and strength of his body against yours, the possessiveness and determination radiating off him in waves. You close your eyes, leaning into him, his lips at your ear. “I love you too,“ you whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. “I’ve always loved you.“

Anakin for the first time in his life, feels complete, whole. He embraces you tightly, his hands roaming over your body, possessive and protective. “You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “And I’m yours. No one can keep us apart again. Not the Order, not the Republic, not the universe.“

You can feel the possessiveness in his touch, the way his hands roam over your body as though he owns it. And a part of you, a primal, feminine part of you, longs to be owned by him, to belong to him completely. You nod, your body molding against his, your voice a whisper. “I’m yours. Completely yours.“

His heart nearly bursts at your words, your surrender and acceptance igniting a primal, possessive need in him that nearly takes his breath away. He leans in, his lips against your neck, his voice a low, ragged growl. “Say it again. Say you’re mine.“

You tilt your head slightly, giving him better access to your neck, your body melting against his. You feel a shiver of desire run down your spine at his words, his possessive tone sending a wave of heat through you. You let out a shaky breath, your voice a ragged whisper. “I’m yours. I belong to you, completely and utterly.“

Anakin’s eyes lock onto yours, the intensity and determination in his gaze making your breath hitch. His hands coming up to cup your face, his touch achingly gentle. “There are so many words I want to say to you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “Words that will never do justice to how I feel about you. You’re the air that I breathe, the thought that consumes me, the obsession that drives me to the brink of madness.“ He leans in closer, his forehead pressing against yours. "You’re the reason I feel alive, the reason I’ll do anything, give anything, to be with you.“ His hands move to your back, his body pressed against yours, the raw need and desire in him almost feral. “I’ve tried to fight it for years, to deny it, but I can't. I can't pretend anymore that I don't want you, that I don't need you. Because I do. I need you more than anything. I’m obsessed with you, completely and utterly obsessed. Living without you it's like not having a soul inside of my body.“

He pulls back slightly, his eyes burning into yours, the force of his emotions like a tidal wave washing over you. “I will do whatever it takes, I will risk everything, I will defy the universe itself, to keep you by my side. You’re mine, and I will never let you go. You’re my love, my every thought, my every dream, my entire existence.“

Your heart is pounding in your chest, the intensity and passion in his words, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. Your hands reach up, touching his face, your fingers tracing over his features gently. “Ani…“ You whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I… I don’t know what to say. You… you make me feel things I’ve never felt before. You make me feel loved, wanted, desired… worshipped.“

He leans into your touch, his eyes closing as he savors the feeling of your fingers on his skin. A small, vulnerable smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he looks at you. “Say you’ll be mine,” he whispers, his voice gruff with emotion. “Say you’ll stay with me, that you’ll be my everything. I need to hear it, I need to know that you want this as much as I do.“

His vulnerability in that moment, so different from the fierce and possessive man he usually is, makes your heart pound even harder. You look into his eyes, seeing the love, the fear, the need in them. You never knew he was capable of such emotion, such passion. “I’ll stay with you,” you murmur, your voice soft yet filled with conviction. “I’ll be yours, yours completely. For as long as you’ll have me.“

He lets out a ragged breath, his body visibly relaxing as your words sink in. The fear, the doubt, that had been lurking in his eyes vanishes, replaced by something wild and primal, something that nearly takes your breath away. “Forever,” he whispers, his voice hoarse and fierce. “I want you forever. I need you forever. You’re mine now, and I’m never letting you go. Together, we will defy the odds, we will fight fate, we will prove that love, true love, can conquer all."

His lips brush against yours, soft and gentle at first, but quickly turning hungry and demanding. His body presses against yours, the heat of his desire like a fever burning through you. The world around you falls away, leaving only you and him, lost in a moment of complete and utter obsession and love. You’re his and he's yours, and nothing else matters.

[inkspiredwriting]

Love, Hate, and the Hargreeves

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves had always been known for his sharp mind and sharper tongue. Y/N, his girlfriend, was no different. Their relationship was a fiery mix of love and playful antagonism, a dynamic that often left the rest of the Hargreeves family in stitches. Today was no exception.

The siblings had gathered in the living room of the Umbrella Academy, the air filled with the scent of popcorn and the sound of laughter. Klaus had found an old box of family videos and insisted on a movie night, much to everyone’s amusement.

Y/N and Five sat on the couch, bickering over which movie to watch.

“I’m telling you, Five, ‘The Princess Bride’ is a classic!” Y/N argued, holding the DVD case up for emphasis.

“And I’m telling you, Y/N, if I have to hear ‘As you wish’ one more time, I might throw myself into a time vortex,” Five retorted, rolling his eyes.

Diego snickered from his spot on the floor. “Ah, the sweet sound of true love.”

“Viktor,” Y/N pleaded, turning to him for support. “Back me up here. ‘The Princess Bride’ is timeless, right?”

Viktor smiled, enjoying the show. “It is, but watching you two argue is better entertainment.”

Luther, munching on a handful of popcorn, chimed in. “You know, Five, for a guy who’s been through the apocalypse, you’re surprisingly bad at picking battles.”

Five shot him a glare. “And for a guy who’s part gorilla, you’re surprisingly bad at shutting up.”

Klaus, sprawled out on the other couch, giggled. “Oh, leave them alone, Luther. This is their foreplay.”

Y/N and Five both turned a shade of red, but neither was willing to back down.

“Fine,” Five said, crossing his arms. “We’ll watch ‘The Princess Bride’. But if I start quoting it sarcastically, you have only yourself to blame.”

Y/N grinned triumphantly. “Deal. And for the record, if you don’t cry when Inigo Montoya gets his revenge, you’re heartless.”

Five smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. My heart’s in perfect working order. Unlike some people’s taste in movies.”

As the opening credits rolled, the siblings settled in, occasionally glancing at Five and Y/N, who were now sitting unusually close, sharing a bowl of popcorn. The movie played on, and true to his word, Five couldn’t resist a few sarcastic comments.

“‘My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’ Classic line,” Five deadpanned. “Really hits you in the feels.”

Y/N nudged him playfully. “Shut up and watch, smartass.”

Halfway through the movie, during the iconic fire swamp scene, Klaus leaned over to Diego, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Do you think they’re actually fighting, or is this some weird foreplay we don’t understand?”

Diego chuckled. “Given how they are, it’s probably both.”

Y/N threw a piece of popcorn at Klaus. “We can hear you, you know!”

Klaus caught it and popped it into his mouth. “Just saying, you two have the sexual tension of a rom-com.”

Five rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide a smirk. “And you have the brain of a goldfish, but we still keep you around.”

Laughter erupted, and even Y/N couldn’t help but join in. The teasing was relentless, but it was also filled with affection. The Hargreeves were a dysfunctional family, but they were a family nonetheless.

As the movie reached its climax, Five found himself genuinely engrossed. He glanced at Y/N, who was watching with a look of pure joy on her face. Despite their constant bickering, he loved seeing her happy.

The final scene played out, and as the credits rolled, Viktor turned to them, grinning. “So, how was it, Five? Are you a ‘Princess Bride’ fan now?”

Five shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

Y/N beamed. “I’ll take that as a win.”

Klaus jumped up, stretching dramatically. “Well, this was fun. Let’s do it again sometime. Preferably with more popcorn and less bickering.”

Diego smirked. “Less bickering? With these two? Not a chance.”

Five stood, pulling Y/N up with him. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s leave these amateurs to their popcorn.”

Y/N laughed, following him out of the room. “As you wish.”

The siblings burst into laughter again, and Five couldn’t help but smile. Their love/hate relationship might be a source of endless teasing, but it was also what made them, well, them.

As they walked down the hallway, Y/N slipped her hand into Five’s. “Thanks for watching the movie with me, Five.”

He squeezed her hand, his usual sarcasm softened by genuine affection. “Anytime, Y/N. Just don’t expect me to quote it back to you.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” she teased.

And with that, they continued down the hall, ready for whatever adventures and arguments lay ahead, knowing that as long as they had each other—and the Hargreeves’ relentless teasing—they could handle anything.

[immortalityriver]

can you please write how aged!up genya would act if reader was pregnant?

i looove these kinds of scenarios. anon didn't leave specifics so I'll make headcanons with scenarios described as small fanfics.

Aged!up (20) genya x pregnant gn!reader

Au: original/timeskip

┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄

he does his damnedest to make sure you're comfortable. he couldn't imagine having to carry a child for 9 months, much less give birth to one.

He's your shadow. Would you like to do laundry? he's helping you hang everything up on the line. dishes? he's already done them. Did you forget to grab something at the market? he'll be back in an hour.

┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄☼┄

you huffed, holding the clothing basket against yourself as you waddled out to the backyard to hang everything out to dry.

currently, you were at about 8 months. pretty far along in your pregnancy, even simple things became tedious, including chores.

you caught his eye.

"..hey! Let me help out with that!" and suddenly he's on his feet rushing after you.

"..Genya it's fine. I can do it myself." you chimed as you looked up at him as he took the basket from your hold.

"I know... but it's the least I can do. I let you do the dishes by yourself last time so you gotta let me help out now, right?" he looked at you with a softened gaze, already going to hang the clothes.

you knew he wouldn't take no for an answer, so you shook your head and joined him ".. Right. thank you, genya."

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when you're near your due date, he begins to wonder more about the gender, names, sometimes he'd pass shops and he couldn't help but get a few things.

you discourage it, since you're both unsure about the gender. but you really can't stop him, it's sweet he's so involved.

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"y/n!" his voice echoes through the home, and you drag yourself out of bed to go meet him

thats when you caught eye of the bag he was holding.

"..okay.. what'd you impulsively buy this time?" you smiled up at him, stifling a sigh, he really couldnt just wait until the baby was born?

"take a look." he held the bag outward, a big goofy lopsided smile on his face

you took the bag and peeked, finding a few toys, a stuffed animal and some clothes.

genya looked rather proud of himself, and you had to admit everything he picked out was adorable.

".. it's great, darling.. but do you have to bring back baby stuff every time you go out?"

".. it's not like i look for it or anything.. i swear it looks for me!" he raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes, pointing to himself

you shook your head "..uh-huh.. so baby clothes can get up and walk now?"

"totally."

"..did you even get what i sent you out for?"

"..." he stared at you, looking at the bag in your hand, then down at his own, where the other bag should've been.

"..shit!"

"..genya.."

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and lastly, he's a generally affectionate guy. but when you're pregnant? he can't keep his hands off of you for even a second.

throughout the day it's constant kisses and hugs, and when bedtime rolls around he's stuck to you like he's a moth and you're a porch light.

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you could practically feel him seeping into your pores. with the way his arms wrapped around you.

"..genya, it's too warm for this.." you muttered, sticking your legs out from under the blanket to get at least some relief

"..nonsense.." he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, giving you a slight squeeze. his warm breath fanning against your skin didn't help at all.

"..genyaaaa..!"

"sh. go to bed."

"don't shush me.. i'm carrying your child." you retorted, now it was just playful banter.

"pft.."

you could feel his smile growing against your neck, to which you rolled your eyes at.

"i can hardly sleep with you smothered against me anyways. can't you scoot at least a little?"

he turned you over to face him, backing a little to make room for your very swollen belly.

"what, you don't love me anymore?"

"nope. not at all. that's absolutely what it is."

he sighed at your sarcasm, leaning into you and giving you a short peck on the lips.

"..i love you."

"I love you too, genya. goodnight."

``end

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Part 2

Part 1

AN: Wow I just want to say I have been so overwhelmed by the love part one got. Thank you for all the comments! I truly cherish each one!This part is a little short, because if I end up doing two different versions (a Lucien version and an Az version) this is where they will probably split off.

If you're new here check out my masterlist!

Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right? 

Warnings: so much fluff, Angst, they be fightin'

Word count: 3485

“Are you sure you want to do this?  We can fully elope if you want to.” I whisper to Lucien as we stand in front of the double oak doors to my brother's office. 

At first I was confident that we had nothing to worry about. But now that I stood here, with only an ornate piece of wood separating us from the High Lord? The nerves had started settling in.

“I’m sure, an honorable male would ask your brother's permission before wedding you, and you deserve nothing but an honorable male.” he smiled, squeezing my left hand, the one his family ring currently found its home on. 

“But what if he says-” 

“Are you seriously doubting my silver tongue right now?” he smirked, cocking an eyebrow at me. “There’s a reason I was cursed to wear a fox mask for 50 years my darling.” 

“Believe me I know all about that silver tongue,” I laughed, nudging him with my shoulder as I recalled what that silver tongue did to me last night.  

“Shall we?” he asked, donning an unbothered face. 

“We shall,” I smiled before pushing open the doors. 

Inside the ostentatious study sat my brother, with his mate perched on his desk beside him with her back facing us. He broke his love sick gaze on her to see Lucien and I standing at the end of his desk. 

“Sister…Lucien, this is a surprise,” Rhys said, fixing some papers on his desk, as if to collect the thoughts swirling inside his head as well. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t knock, that was an oversight on our part,” I laughed thinking about the thousands of compromising positions we might’ve found them in. I silently thanked the cauldron for keeping that reality at bay. 

“I was hoping I could discuss something with you,” Lucien said regally. I was so taken back by his tone I couldn’t help but look up to him, his face was nothing short of the son of a High Lord. 

The air in the room stiffened as Feyre turned around to sit on the arm of Rhys chair, I suddenly felt like I was in a fishbowl. My brother and I had always been very close, I had shared everything in my life with him, there wasn’t a story of mine he didn’t know. But he didn’t know about Lucien, and I wasn’t sure how he would react to that. 

“Of course Lucien you can speak to us about anything,” Feyre smiled warmly,  placing her hand over Rhys’ as if to calm him down.

“With all due respect Feyre this is just between Rhysand and myself,” Lucien stated with the utmost respect, yet I still nudged his foot in warning. 

Rhys shifted in his seat a bit, placing his hand on Feyre’s hip, “Anything you have to say to me you can also say to my mate Vanserra.” 

This was not going according to plan. 

“Well, you see,” Lucien looked at me and I gave him a subtle nod to continue. “Y/n and I have been seeing each other for quite sometime now-” 

“And by seeing each other you mean?” Rhys interjected. 

Lucien cleared his throat, “We’re all adults here Rhysand I-” 

“You mean to tell me you’ve been fucking my sister?!” Rhys growled and I swear the mountains stirred in the distance. 

“Rhys calm down!” I shout but Feyre speaks up first. 

“How long has this been going on for?” Feyre asks, calmly. Her voice seemingly caused Rhys to lower his hackles. 

“Since Starfall,” Lucien answered truthfully. 

“Dammit I owe Cassian money,” she cursed looking at the door of the adjacent room. 

Rhys turned to look at his mate bewildered, “you had suspicions and you didn’t tell me?” he gasped. 

“Well Cassian thought they were going to hookup that starfall but I said there was no way,” Feyre said seemingly disappointed she lost a bet. 

“Guys?” I probe, turning both of their attentions back to us.

“What I’m trying to say is I admire your sister very much Rhysand, and I would like to ask for your permission for her hand in marriage,” Lucien said, giving my hand a squeeze. 

Feyre looked to Lucien, “But Elain is your mate?” she asks, confused. 

“And Azriel is yours y/n,” Rhys reminded me. 

“Come on Rhys, it’s been 400 years. If the bond was going to snap it would’ve happened by now. Azriel doesn’t want me.” I say honestly, and for the first time, the words don’t sting as much as they normally do. 

Lucien picks up my train of thought, “And Elain has made it perfectly clear that she wants nothing to do with me.” he says to Feyre, who gives him an apologetic glance.

I look over to see Lu smiling down at me, “We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and we get along well. I’m at my happiest when I’m with him,” I smile back at him before turning to my brother and Feyre once more. “Lucien is a good male, he’s kind and he takes care of me. I think we could make eachother really happy.” 

Lucien tugs on my hand to bring my attention back to him, “And y/n is a beautiful, smart, and charming woman. Any male would be lucky to call her his wife, including me.” his lips curl upward, and I can’t tear my gaze away from him. 

I had begged the Cauldron all my life to bring someone into my life who would choose me. I used to think that person was Azriel, but after all my years of flirting with him and trying to get the bond to snap I was only ever met with nothing. Yet here Lucien was, standing in my brother's office, saying I choose you. 

Feyre’s voice broke my train of thought and pulled both of our attentions, “Aww, Rhys they're so sweet,” she beamed grasping onto my brother's arm. 

Just like I had prophesied, I saw my brother's hard exterior melting under the ‘ooos’ and ‘ahhhs’ of his beloved High Lady. He stood from his desk and I felt Lu tense beside me as we both waited with bated breath for what the High Lord was going to say next. 

“Lucien Vanserra,” he said, holding out his hand. “Welcome to the family.” 

The tension in the air dissipated as everyone in the room smiled, Feyre was practically jumping for joy. Lucien gave Rhys a firm handshake over his desk and I could see that while the proposal was unexpected for my brother, he wasn’t unhappy. He knew just as well as I did that Lucien was a good male, that he would be good to me. 

“Oh we need to start shopping for dresses right now! I’ll grab Mor and Nesta and we can go out! We’re going to need a cake too!” Feyre squealed, hugging me tightly. 

“Uhh that’s the other thing,” I said hesitantly, not wanting to step on my sister-in-law's happiness. “We didn’t want a big wedding.” 

“We actually wanted to elope, and we want you two to be our witnesses.” Lucien picked up my sentence.

“Oh of course we will,” Feyre smiled looking at both of us before wrapping her arm around Rhys. 

Rhys looked more troubled than he did moments ago, like the idea of an elopement didn’t sit right with him. However if he did feel that way, he didn’t voice it. Not when the idea seemed to excite Feyre so. 

“When is the date?” Feyre inquired. 

I looked to Lucien who was already looking to me for an answer. We had never given the date a thought. I shrugged my shoulders at him, hoping he might take the lead. His eyes twinkled with mischief, it was that same look he gave me before he did something like wipe whipped cream on my nose or use his flames to singe my bum as he slapped it.

“The day after tomorrow,” he said with certainty. 

“The day after tomorrow?” the whole room gawked. 

Lu turned back to me, “Yes. We’ve never been conventional, why start now,” he gushed giddy with infectious excitement. 

I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face, “Okay,” I giggled. “the day after tomorrow.”

He leaned down to scoop me up in his arms spinning me around the room, Feyre’s laughter and my own bouncing off the ornate wood paneled walls. 

“But what will you wear?” Feyre asked, seemingly trying to figure out something in her head already. 

I pondered the idea myself before it hit me like a ton of bricks, “Oh I can wear mothers dress!” I exclaimed looking at Rhys.

“I’m sure that’s what she would’ve wanted,” Rhys smiled, tossing his arm around his excited wife. 

We parted ways with the promise of seeing them later this evening at family dinner. An event I typically despised, but now? Things didn’t seem so dull. I was walking in with my fiance, instead of alone. 

Lucien and I ran down the hallways hand in hand, laughing like teenagers getting away with sneaking out. 

“I can’t believe I just did that,” he laughed, backing me against a wall. 

“Did what?” I ask, out of breath from running. 

He leaned in close to my ear, “Told your brother how thoroughly I’ve been fucking you,” he smirks pressing a kiss beneath my ear. 

“Well you didn’t use language that graphic,” I snicker while playing with the ends of his hair. 

He pulls his head back from my neck to give me that mischievous look again, “I can always go back in there and tell him,” he teases. 

“Or…” I say low in his ear, “you could just show me.” I say suggestively. 

Lu’s lips curl upward brushing against the shell of my ear, “You little minx!” he growls hoisting me up, earning a squeal from me. 

“You are beautiful and amazing and charming and you are going to be my wife,” he gushes, placing a kiss on my lips for every tender word. 

Lu smiles at me before titling my chin up to meet his lips, the kiss warm and sweet. His hands pull my waist closer to him, and I bring my own from his chest to loop around his neck. He presses his forehead. 

This was the start of a new chapter, one where I was somebody’s first choice. One where I was chosen and loved. One where I didn’t come home to an empty home, or show up to solstice parties without a date. One where I had someone to kill the spiders in the house for me, one where I was chosen. 

As Lucien held me close to him, I could sense he felt all the same things too. It was a new start for both of us. A chance to be happy. 

That evening after much celebration from Lucien and I that involved some time between the sheets…and the shower… and the living room floor…we finally dressed for dinner. 

Dinner with the family was typically a laid back affair, it was the one time a week we could all see one another. Rhys would even make sure no one had any assignments during that time so that there were no interferences. My dress was nice yet laid back, nothing like what I would wear for starfall or a ball. 

Lucien came up behind me as I put on my earrings in the stand up mirror.

“You look lovely, my wife looks lovely,” he said, taking the earring back from my hand to place it on himself. Kissing my bare shoulder in the process. 

“I’m not your wife yet,” I smile, turning in his arms. 

“Maybe so but you’re going to be,” he reminds me, kissing my nose. 

“The day after tomorrow,” I say 

“The day after tomorrow,” he repeats back. “Now let’s go before our tardiness causes your brother to call off the wedding.” 

I laugh taking his hand and walking down the townhouse steps into the brisk night air. I checked to see that I had moved my impromptu engagement ring to my right hand before we got too far away. While I was excited about marrying Lu it was important to me that the wedding stay an elopement.  I wasn’t sure how the rest of the family would react. Despite our good humor and book swapping, Nesta may choose to rip off my head for taking her sister’s mate and who knew how Cassian might feel about me marrying a Vanserra, even if it was Lucien. 

As Lu held open the gate to the townhouse for me, the same way he did on starfall a year ago. I was sure that I had made the right choice. Not just in my future life partner, but in keeping the engagement secret for just a few days more. 

The family gathered around the table, each one of them placing a dish in the center to be shared. During dinners we didn’t like to have the maids do all the work, per the request of the Archeron sisters. They said it felt more homey if we all pitched in on the work and they were right. Lu and I parted ways and I gave Feyre and Nesta a warm hug before continuing to set the table. It seemed everyone was in high spirits as even when I passed by Rhys to lay down the potatoes he gave me a kiss on the forehead. 

Maybe everyone was in a good mood for once, or maybe things just seemed lighter because I didn’t walk in here by myself tonight. 

Dinner moved quickly, and Lucien sat next to me as he normally did, both of us thick as thieves kicking each other's feet all night. It was impossible to keep such a happy secret from the family, but it was also insanely fun. Every now and then I caught a knowing glance from Rhys or Feyre. But whenever Rhys looked at me his next glance was always to Azriel, who didn’t seem to suspect a thing.

When the meal was over we all took our goblets of wine and moved to the living room to drink, laugh and tell war stories, as we always did. Normally this was when I would make some half-assed excuse as to why I had to leave. The last thing I wanted to see was a bunch of mated couples all over each other. My heart still panged as Elain chose to sit on the arm of Azriel’s chair, but it was lightened by the brush of Lucien’s fingers against the back of my head as he went to sit across the room next to Rhys and Feyre. 

It wasn’t until Cassian started talking about going to war with the Valkyries for the one millionth time that I decided that I definitely needed more wine for this story. So I stood and marched my way into the kitchen with the promise of bringing back a couple bottles for everyone. 

The walk-in wine cellar in the kitchen was cold, so when I turned around with two bottles in hand and bumped into a very warm chest I nearly yelped. 

“Shhh it’s just me,” Lucien grinned, taking the two bottles from my hand to place on the counter beside us. 

“Lu you scared the shit out of me,” I say in a hushed tone as he hoists me onto the countertop. 

“I’m tired of watching them all cuddle up to one another in there, I want to cuddle up to you as well,” he smirked, placing kisses all over my neck. 

“Down boy,” I giggle, acting like I don’t feel the exact same way. I feel his lips curl against my skin as I run my hands through his hair.

“This is only going to get worse once you’re my wife,” he smiles, placing a slow kiss on my lips. 

“WIFE?!” 

I whip my head around from where I’m sitting on the counter to see Azriel standing in the doorway, a look of pure betrayal written all over his face. Lucien’s hands found my waist pulling me off the counter so that my feet were firmly on the floor. 

“You’re marrying him?!” Azriel shouts again and suddenly a smaller figure appears behind him, swathed in light pink and roses. 

“He’s my mate you can’t just take him,” Elain exclaims, seemingly coming into her own. 

I immediately see red at her words, completely disregarding Azriel in the room. Elain who wouldn’t give Lucien the time of day. Elain who knowingly entered an unethical relationship with Azriel and flaunted it. Elain who barely glanced at the pearl earrings Lucien had bought her for solstice. She had the gall to claim him, after the way she treated him.   

“Take him?” I scoff. “You don’t even want him.” I shout back, the words coming off a little harsher than expected. 

“She’s right y/n, Lucien is her mate,” Azriel interjected looking down at me, as if this situation didn’t benefit him in every way. Gods he would just do anything to make that girl happy. 

“That’s deft coming from you shadowsinger,”  Lucien snickered disdainfully, cocking his head at the spymaster. 

Azriel bristled, “What's that supposed to mean?” he snarled. 

I put a hand on Lucien’s chest to get him to back down, “It doesn’t matter, we’re happy. Is it really your mission to make everyone in this court miserable but yourself Elain?”

“HEY!” Azriel barked, taking a step towards me, his shadows rising behind him. 

Before he can get a step closer Lucien grabs his arm, “Easy,” he hissed, but Azriel’s eyes didn’t leave my scared form. 

Never in my life had Azriel raised his voice at me in such a manner. While I wanted to say I was unphased, the outburst had scared me.  As soon as he noticed my reaction to his behavior, a realization seemed to dawn on him, and he quickly stepped back.

“You’re taking my mate, was there a way I was supposed to react?” Elain sneered just as snarky as ever, as if this was just a cat fight among the females. 

The red I saw turned to crimson as I realized once more what she was doing. She didn’t want Lucien because she loved him. She wanted him because she felt entitled to him, she wanted both of them. My mate and hers. 

“You take my mate, I’ll take yours!” I seethed the words spilling out of me like venom, unstoppable and poisonous to those in the room. 

Elain’s eyes widened and I realized that the secret that I had kept for 400 years had finally come out. My stomach dropped and my blood ran cold, the world around me fading away as I discerned what I had done.  

“What did you just say?” Azriel said in disbelief, my eyes flitted over to his. 

Anger and hurt flashed in his golden eyes. I didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t know what to say. I had never prepared for this. 

“Azriel I-” 

“I’m your mate?!” he sneered, his voice tinged with malice.

 I felt a scarred hand grip my upper arm as if to winnow me away but Lucien was on Azriel in an instant gripping his arm right back. 

“Get your hands off my wife,” he growled, raising his own metaphorical hackles. 

“By the looks of it she’s not your wife yet. But apparently she’s my mate so I will handle her however I please,” Azriel said, getting up in Lu’s face, but to Lucien’s credit he didn’t back down.

It was as if after 400 years the bond snapped for Az. And every urge that came with that bond had snapped in place with it. The worst part of it all was that I didn’t know how to feel.   

“That may be true but I won’t allow you to touch her in anger,” Lucien stated glowering at the shadowsinger. 

Elain and I remained speechless and unmoving as Rhysand slid into the kitchen eyes ablaze at the scene before him. 

“What the fuck is going on?” he bellowed as he saw Azriel gripping me and Lucien gripping him. 

“It seems that Lucien has decided to wed my mate,” Azriel said with a smooth calm that sounded more like a warning shot. 

“You treat her as if she was-” Lucien snarled back before Rhys cut him off. 

“That’s enough!” he shouted and it was enough for both males to let go. “All of you get out of my sight and simmer down. We can talk about this when you can behave like adults!”

I think to protest my brother's orders, but he shoots me a glare so cold, so unyielding that I find myself sinking into Lucien’s embrace. I look to Azriel who wears his disappointment in me unnervingly well before winnowing both Lucien and I back home. 

to be continued...

Part 3

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[thisgirlnamedblusy]

My beautiful, stupid maid

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Maid! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, slightly dark themes, Donna's POV

Word count: 5,080

Summary: I don't know why I don't want you to leave...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!! Requests are open!! I love you all!!!

I thought I like to be alone.

Everyone told me: you need some company. They don’t know me. My family, as they call themselves, care about me, or so they think they do. I don't need helpless maids running through the halls. I don't need to waste time on people I don't care about. My life doesn’t revolve around achieving power, around needing the feeling of being above others, like my siblings do.

I was always a lonely woman, and Mother Miranda's gift could change many things, but not that. Not that.

Angie was everything I needed.

I know what they think about me, what they talk about: “Poor Donna, she's so lonely…” “She's not mentally developed,” “she only cares about her stupid dolls…” Comments that they think I don't hear.

To be honest, I never cared about that. I know what I’m, what place in the world there was for me. My dolls, my house, my loneliness. Sometimes I lose my mind and cry without wanting to. Sometimes I want to end the meaninglessness that my life has become. Angie takes me away from those thoughts, she calms me down. I didn't need anything but to keep serene and continue existing.

At least I thought I didn't need anything else.

Then you showed up.

“Mother Miranda has granted me the honor of working for you, Lady Beneviento,” you said, appearing in my house, in my territory. In all this time, many villagers had been stupid enough to approach my house.

None of them returned. Thanks to the gift that was given to me, I could enjoy seeing the fear in their eyes, seeing how terrible their thoughts are. At first I had to admit that I was even afraid of myself.

The human mind is so fragile... How much people can suffer just with their own memories is incredible. For some reason, I didn't feel the need to torture you.

You seemed shy, but you didn't stop smiling, even with my fervent refusal. I couldn't disobey Mother Miranda, and I couldn't stop looking into those bright, strange eyes.

Angie was just a lost part of my consciousness, some thoughts that left my mind when I granted her the gift of life. She thought that for you to work for me was a good idea. Not me.

I didn't even know your name, but I opened the doors of my house to you. Who was I to argue with Mother Miranda's demands? Maybe I just got carried away with Angie.

I tried to avoid you. I didn't want to think that you were here, with me, that I was no longer alone. But you... You came to me, like a fly to a light trap, blinded, surely by your innocence, heading towards danger.

“Is everything to your liking, my lady?” “Would you like me to make you some tea, my lady?” Always those stupid questions. Hearing your voice was nothing but torture for me, a reminder that you were still there, that, no matter how much your presence bothered me, I was not capable of throwing you out or of making you hallucinate so you would run away from here, so you would never come back.

Silence was always my response, the affirmation that I didn't want you to be here. I have never had the ability or the need to talk to anyone, not even to my siblings. You were not going to be an exception.

My lady... What stupidity is that? I didn't want to be your lady. I didn't want you to consider yourself my property. I was alone, and I liked it.

Unfortunately, time only revealed your annoying presence. My routine is always the same and to trip with you was inevitable. I curse the Black Gods for turning my gaze towards yours.

What a maid... You were clumsy. You didn't know how to clean properly. You served no purpose other than to disrupt my existence. But I could never hurt you. It didn't matter how many vases you broke, how many times you burned the food. I felt incapable of scolding you, of throwing you out of my house.

Someday I woke up with the decision to put an end to that stuff, to make you suffer and disappear forever. Those thoughts faded the moment my hidden gaze met yours again.

That smile, those eyes... That messy hair and the dress that framed your figure made me back away, give you another chance. Chance? I didn't want you to be here. I never wanted you to come to my house. I didn't want to see your stupid smile. I didn't want to, and yet, I felt the need to see you.

Are you also a creation of Mother Miranda?

I know that she experiments on villagers, that she creates aberrations. Could you be one of them? What exactly has the Cadou done to you? Were you some kind of sorceress?

I've read too many books about witches, about mermaids who trick sailors into taking their souls. I always thought they were stupid stories to scare children. But the more I look at you, the more I think you're like a witch from those stories, or like a mermaid. Do you want to trick me into taking my soul? Too late, girl, it's been a long time since I had a soul.

“Good morning, my lady, did you sleep well?” you asked every morning. My ability to ignore you faltered over time. Anyway, I couldn't lose anything by nodding.

That was my worst mistake, making you believe that I was somehow communicating with you. That small gesture gave you more confidence in yourself. It made you believe that you could annoy me even more.

One night I tried to relax, sit by the fireplace and read another of those mermaid stories. Suddenly, I felt the need to know more about these creatures. Somehow, I was afraid that you were one of them. That the movement my head made, forcing me to follow you with my gaze, was some kind of spell from you.

“Excuse me, my lady,” you said to me, with the nerve to put a hand on my shoulder. I was startled, but I knew how to hide it so you wouldn't notice.

I nodded for you to talk, even though I didn't want you to, what is happening to me?

“I'm a bit bored, I was wondering if you could recommend me a book,” you said with your hands together in front of your body, with that formality that I knew you didn't have.

I was thoughtful for a moment. My hands shook as they held Homer's Odyssey. Your mermaid song was not going to be able to defeat me, you stupid maid.

“A book?” I asked without realizing it, letting out my voice, a voice that I hadn't used for a long time and that I didn't want to use precisely with you. I had to calm down, or you would trick me.

“Yes, well... Books about plants are interesting but...” You said, looking away from my hateful gaze.

Did you mean to joke? What made you think you could joke with me? Moron.

“I've been looking for something a bit more entertaining but I can't find anything. Also, most of them are in Italian and I… Well, I can’t read them.”

I shook my head. Fortunately, you couldn't see my face. A smile involuntarily spread across it.

“My family was Italian,” I said in a hoarse voice, giving her an absurd explanation, which she certainly didn’t deserve.

“Oh, okay,” you whispered nervously.

Why were you nervous? Oh, sure... In these three months and five days you hadn't heard me speak. I have a horrible voice, right? I'm sure you hate me even more now. Everybody hates me.

The light from the fireplace rested on your face, dancing in your eyes, on your skin. Have you hypnotized me? I couldn’t stop looking at you.

I sighed listlessly, looking for an excuse for your eyes to stop enchanting me. I got up from the couch, looking for something that would keep you entertained, quiet. Your voice is beautiful, but I don't want to hear it. Beautiful?

“For whom the bell tolls... Ernest Hemingway,” you said when I finally gave you a book so you would leave me alone. You just had to take the damn book and get out of my sight. It wasn't that difficult, was it? “It’s a good one?”

“Yes, it is,” I responded with a dry throat, nervous about the subtle contact my hand made brushing against yours. When I touched you, the porcelain of my dolls came to my mind. Soft, delicate…

“Thank you, I promise that tomorrow I won't burn the toast,” you said amused, were you trying to make me laugh? Good luck with that.

Something had changed in your attitude. I wondered if hearing me talk had anything to do with it. I didn't want you to be here. I hate you, stupid maid.

Time passed slowly. I found myself counting the days, the hours you spent with me. Your overconfidence was disgusting. Some nights, you sat next to me, reading that book, commenting each of the things that seemed curious to you. I have already read it, you silly maid. I don't need to hear your... Your beautiful voice.

I've never been right in the head, I know that. Since I was little I had problems. Problems with my appearance, with people... I have never gotten over it and I never will. My past is a field of thorns that stick into my skin every night when I try to sleep.

But... My demons were not keeping me awake, your eyes were, those two beautiful pearls that you had on your face, ones that I couldn't stop looking at. What are you doing to me? What is happening to me? I feel weak, tired. I'm not hungry, I'm not sleepy. I don't feel like getting out of my bed, to face your gaze again.

Sitting at my old dressing table, I look at my deformed face in a mirror. I'm a monster. I should have gotten used to seeing myself like that, to having that horrible thing on my face, just as I got used to the changes in my body when I became Mother Miranda's daughter.

I felt my heart sink as I looked at myself in that mirror. A deformed monster, a strange creature, an aberration. Those statements that were going through my head were more present than ever.

“What's wrong, Donna?” Angie asked, climbing onto my lap. My sweet and faithful Angie, I don't know what I would have done without you.

“I'm a monster, Angie,” I murmured, with a tear running down my untouched cheek. I can't tell how many times I have burst into tears because of that. That night was different.

“No, no, that's not true,” the doll said. I wish I could believe her words. Angie was my creation. She was part of my consciousness. She would never hurt me... I don't even know what Angie is exactly anymore. “The maid likes you…”

“What?” I said startled.

I know Angie wanted to make me feel better, but she was never particularly good at it.

She couldn't lie to me. She didn't have the ability to do so.

Do you like me? What nonsense. I know you don’t. I know it's impossible. Anyway…why am I worried? Why I didn’t stop thinking about those words?

Love is a luxury that I could never enjoy. Loving a woman, being loved... Those were just fantasies in my head, a fictitious feeling that, like mermaids, only lived in my books.

Every day I kept seeing your stupid… Beautiful… Smile. You were still here, you hadn't left. I couldn't say when I started to worry about you leaving. I didn’t want you to be here but... I didn't want you to leave. I had never felt so many contradictions at the same time. I had never suffered so many anxiety attacks in the safety of my room.

You never saw me lose my temper. I didn't want you to see me like that. For some reason, I didn't want to.

I tried to push you away, but you were getting closer, touching me with your dress, touching my hand when you handed me a cup of tea. Were you really the one who did it? Was my hand subtly caressing your skin? It didn't seem to bother you either.

You were still here, like every day, torturing me with your eyes, with your smile, with your movements when you walked near me. Your gaze was tender and respectful, but your body wasn’t. Your body caused sensations that I always ignored in me.

“That doll is beautiful, Donna,” you whispered, taking my tea to the workshop. That place was always a refuge, the only place in the house where my thoughts were not focused on you.

“Thank you,” I said. To let my voice speak for me didn’t take long. I had been doing it for so long that I no longer stopped to think why it wasn't difficult for me to do it with you.

“Look, it has my eyes,” you said amused, gently picking up the newly made doll.

A heaviness in my head said there was something wrong. Yes, you were right. That damn doll had your beautiful eyes. Wait, shouldn't I say: That beautiful doll had your damn eyes?

“Yes, well, I...” I stammered, confused. I hadn't even realized it. Even without thinking about you, I was doing it. Even when I made my dolls, I put your same hair to them, your eyes, the marks that I could see on your skin… I was no longer safe even in my own workshop.

“It's very nice,” you whispered, returning the doll to me with a sigh. “Anyway, I think I should start making the soup… You liked it with a bit of dill, right?”

“Yes... I... Yes, yes,” I stammered, nodding, but without looking at your face. I was just looking at the doll, at your vivid portrait made unconsciously. I could no longer deny how obsessed I was with you, that I thought about you even without doing it.

I refused to believe it was love or anything like that. At night I tossed and turned in bed, thinking about what spell you had used on me. Your eyes stopped appearing in my nightmares, and now they were present in my most beautiful dreams. In them I see you, I see us together, close, with our hands intertwined. They were just dreams... Dreams in which I don't have that horrible thing on my face, in which your eyes shine when you look at me, in which your lips... In which your lips are too close to mine.

I felt unable to ignore the sensations that the mere fact of being close to you caused me. Love is something absurd, a waste of time. Everyone wants to hurt you, Donna, don't forget that.

My head fought with my heart, with the trembling of my hands when I was close to yours. You always were here with that smile, with that look, making me unable to think about anything but in your lips on mine, in your body very close to mine.

The nights got worse. Drawing your image in my thoughts usually helped me to stay calm and sleep, dreaming about you. Not anymore. I can no longer let myself be carried away by my feelings. The sensations were different, physical, overwhelming. I no longer imagined your smile, or a simple kiss. No, now your body was naked next to mine, now my caresses no longer wandered over your face, but over your chest, your waist, your legs…

Lust is a sin, or so my parents said. I was never ignorant, or stupid. My body had needs, and even more so after the change that Cadou produced in me. I thought it was routine, something necessary...

One more task to be calm, to relax. My mind traveled to unknown places, imagining faceless women while I soothed myself with my hands. It was pleasant, but empty, lacking in feelings or the desire to do it. I simply wanted to relieve my body so that my mind wouldn't become destabilized.

That night, my body was calling me again. No matter how much I tried to get my excitement to relax, I wasn't able to do so. I wanted something, my body wanted something, and I had to give that to it.

My hands moved down my nightclothes to my trembling erection, stroking it gently. Maybe it was my impression, but I could feel much more than other times... The difference? There were no longer faceless women in my head or erotic stories hidden in one of my books. I was thinking about you.

I felt the need to end that discomfort between my legs as quickly as possible and for some reason, I thought that including you in my lascivious thoughts might help. Quite the opposite. The pleasure of my hand going up and down, the gasps that came out of my mouth involuntarily made me want to go slower. I wanted to keep thinking about what it would be like to be inside of you, to hear you moan with your mermaid voice, to see you closing those bright eyes while I made you mine.

My movements were fast, but intense. My head was imagining how good it would feel to have the images in my head come true. To release myself didn't take long, but I felt I enjoyed doing it too much.

Cleaning myself in the bathroom, I looked the mirror again. My face was red and my breathing was labored. I wiped my hands with a towel and stood there, looking at my reflection, feeling a pang in my heart at the thought that everything I dream of were just fantasies.

I felt guilty for enjoying myself at your expense, for masturbating thinking about you, but... I also felt frustrated by how absurd was to think about how far my feelings had gone. So much so that I lost the little decency I had, the deal I made with myself not to fall in love, not to feel the need to hug a human body instead of a porcelain doll.

In my incipient desperation, I called my sister Alcina, telling her everything that was happening to me. Angie gave me nothing but absurd advices. I needed the opinion of someone more... Experienced.

It was of no use to me. According to her, my need to make that stupid maid mine was absurd. “You are a powerful woman, Donna. If you want something from that girl, just take it. She will never contradict you, for her own sake.”

Everything was so easy for a woman like Alcina...

A dark part of my mind seriously considered following her advice. I never felt remorse for torturing those stupid villagers, why would I feel remorse for taking what I want to make mine?

But no, that part of me that I'm ashamed of had to shut up. I couldn't just… No, I couldn't do it. I didn't want to do it, but I wanted to. I wanted you in an unbearable way.

The nights were torture, the days were even worse. At least at night I just had to imagine you, I didn't have to feel you, I didn't have to touch your hand. Yes, you kept rubbing your hand with mine. Have you ever done that? It was me? I wouldn't know how to answer. I would like to ask you, but I don't dare to do it.

You are killing me, you stupid, beautiful maid. You kill me slowly, you make me fall in love with you without mercy, you look at me, you talk to me... You are here with me. I’m here with you. You don't want to leave. I don't want you to leave.

One afternoon, I tried to escape from my carnal desires, from the feelings that filled my head. I was painting dolls, sewing without rest. I had been doing it for hours, I didn't know how many.

“Sorry for bothering you,” you said politely, entering disrespectfully, interrupting my bitterness.

“What do you want? I'm busy,” my words were cold, lacking that softness with which they always spoke to you.

“I'm sorry, it's just that... It's just that I... I have to clean this up. It's the last room before being able to rest,” you said shyly. Was it me or your cheeks were blushing? What were you thinking about? You were thinking about another way to fool me? Stop it. You've already done it. I feel that if I were a sailor, I would already be drifting, desperately searching to hear your siren song again.

“Okay,” I said briefly, avoiding your tender smile, looking at that doll, looking at your eyes on it again.

As you moved around my workshop, my clumsy and trembling hands made the task of painting correctly impossible. With you here, to concentrate was impossible for me.

My thoughts began to spin out of control as I tilted my head to look at you. There you were, leaning over one of the dusty tables. You looked at me, like you knew I was doing the same thing. I looked away and squeezed my hands tightly.

If you want something from her, just take it.

The phrase my sister said appeared in my head suddenly, treacherously, just at the moment when my crazy gaze was directed at the small spot that you had very close to your neckline. One I couldn't forget.

My actions took control of my body, causing me to get up slowly, like a shadow that stalks you without realizing it.

I wanted to tell you so many things... I wanted to be able to talk to you about my feelings before approaching you from behind, running a hand through your hair, brushing it away from your shoulders.

You stood still, but you didn't complain, you didn't turn around and slap me for my impudence. No, you seemed like butter under my touch, under my hands on your shoulders, on your neck.

An unexpected gasp left your lips as I got closer and closer, feeling your subtle but intoxicating perfume, feeling the heat of your body passing through my dress.

“I can't stop thinking about you...” I whispered without meaning to, confessing an undeniable truth, confessing that you are not the stupid maid that I didn’t want to have. You were the girl I wanted to love.

“Donna...” You sighed, when I removed the veil from my face to place my lips on your pale skin, behind your perfect ear.

When I started to be just Donna to you? What about the my lady thing?

Kissing your skin was like a cold breeze on a hot day, like laughing when you're sad. It was a feeling of relief, of pleasure.

Even being behind you, I could feel your heavy breathing. What did you feel? Were you in hell or in paradise?

I couldn't know and I didn't want to know. My hands worked on their own, covering every inch of your body while my mouth was cruel to your neck.

Having your chest in my hands, passing my fingers through the fabric that covered your breasts... All that things I imagined at night were mine in that moment. A part of my conscience was screaming for me to stop, to be sure that you wanted to do it. No, dear maid, I wasn’t going to ask.

You turned around slowly, letting my hands continue roaming your body. You weren't supposed to do that. You were supposed to run away.

“I think about you too...” You whispered, moving my black veil aside. There was nothing to fear anymore. You would be with me or you would disappear from my life. My face didn't matter. I didn’t care if you thought I was a monster. I was willing to force you.

Your smile remained tender, relaxed at the sight of my exposed face. There was no horror in your eyes, disgust in your gaze. No, there was only… Peace, tranquility, and that smile that kept me awake at nights.

“You are even more beautiful than I imagined,” you said, bringing your hand to my deformed cheek, running your fingers over my scar, as if it were nothing, as if it were of no importance to you.

I grabbed your wrist to stop you before leaning towards you, before placing my lips on yours. I had never kissed anyone and I was thankful I hadn't. Your kiss was my first one.

Little by little I moved closer, making your back collide with the edge of the table. I couldn't stop kissing you. I didn't want to stop kissing you. Your lips were addictive. They were everything I had imagined. Your body against mine, your hands going down my waist, you and me...

I could no longer contain my desire to make you mine, to love you, to make love you. I was willing to force you to do it, to not listen to your screams, to make you run away. I didn't have to. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who rubbed my hands with yours. You did it too.

My need to love you was put before romance, caresses, kisses and affectionate whispers in your ear. I had spent too much time thinking about how I felt about you. I didn't want to tell you, I wanted to show you.

I lifted your body by your legs, sitting you on the table, drowning in your kisses, letting my hands touch whatever they wanted... Just like yours. I felt like such a simple act was more than enough to feel my arousal rubbing against my underwear. You were irresistible, a goddess, a mermaid, a witch... But above all, you were going to be mine.

I looked at you, wishing it wasn't a dream and you were really there. You smiled again. What have you done to me? What did I do to you? Have you fooled me? Have I tricked you? Did you also think of me as if I were a mermaid?

Absurd questions that my body didn't have time for. I needed you, my beautiful maid. With a hasty movement, I put my hands into your dress while you hung around my neck, making to concentrate on loving you harder for me, kissing me eagerly, with a desire that I was unaware of.

Your underwear disappeared around your ankles as your hands left my neck, to play on my chest, to free me from my own clothes. Were you in a hurry as I was?

When I finally had access to you, my body moved on its own, lifting your legs slightly, remaining enthralled by those hidden corners of your body.

 You didn't say anything about what was between my legs. You just looked at it curiously. I don't like being looked at, tesoro, you should know that.

You bit your lip, but you didn't say anything. You just pulled me so that my erection rubbed against your wetness. There was nothing else to say, but there were a lot of things to do.

I entered you hastily, feeling a wave of unimaginable pleasure. I was not delicate, nor kind. I didn't know if someone had ever loved you, I didn't want to know either. Your walls hugged me tightly, keeping me right where you wanted, making you moan in a way that I already knew would drive me crazy.

You had more clothes than in my dreams, but the sensations you sent to my body every time they moved exceeded my expectations. You hugged me so well... You took it so well... You were perfect, as if your body was made just for me.

“Don't stop, Donna...” You begged, writhing on that table. My thrusts had relaxed as I looked at you, as I closely admired your beauty without the veil between us. I just shook my head, kissing you passionately as my hips resumed their movements.

“I think... I think I love you...” I whispered with a voice low enough so you couldn't hear it, camouflaging it between our moans. There came a time when I decided to close my eye and not look at you anymore.

Behind you, the dolls that I made rested, looking at me. They were judging me. I wasn't going to let my problems ruin that moment. My sick mind was not going to stop me from continuing to make love to you.

“My God, Donna... I'm so close...” You murmured, ignoring my declaration of love. Why would I want you to answer me? I said it in a way I which you wouldn't hear me.

My hips went out of control and my arms hugged your body, keeping it close to me, not letting you stop hugging me with your walls, not letting me stop making my way inside of you.

I stopped just when the pleasure became unbearable, letting my heat flood inside you, releasing myself inside you, making you mine forever.

You panted, exhausted. Your nails had scratched my skin as I cum. Did that mean you did it too?

“I think... I think I love you too,” you murmured, responding late to my statement, to my confession, hugging me, kissing me with affection, with that affection that I lacked.

“Don’t dare to leave,” I said with a dark voice, before consuming myself again in your kisses.

“I won't do it,” you answered on my lips, keeping me inside of you, not wanting to separate you from me.

I thought I liked being alone, but now I know I couldn't live without you.