#and i wish i could explain to her how i would rip my heart out and give it to her if that meant she'd feel even a little better

[meo66]

i thought i knew how it felt to be useless, until my bestfriends father passed away and i felt absolutely pathetic

[tteokdoroki]

VOICEMAILS AND DIAL TONES - yuuta okkotsu.

✩ — about. “back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand.” there are rules to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s has. the first being that you tell each other everything. the second, try not to fall in love. all you know, is that you’ve failed at both, and now your best friend is half way across the world without any idea as to how much you truly love him. is that something you can say over text or voicemail? ( 8.7K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, with a happy ending - video banner! characters are in their 20s. coffee-shop!au, childhood friends to lovers, forbidden romance, long-distance, misunderstandings, miscommunication, situationships, arguments, hospitalisation mentions, death mentions (non-major characters), cucking, somnophilia, praise, fingering (f!receiving), oral sex (f!receiving), phone sex-ish, clothed sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampies, fem!reader.

✩ — things to note. hi everyone!! jumping on the yuuta hype and dropping this fic i wrote as a commission last year!! it's so interesting to see how much my writing has changed, but i remember having fun when writng this. either who!! i hope you all enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

absence makes the heart grow fonder — at least that’s what they tell you so that the feeling of missing someone hurts a tiny little bit less. 

you’ve always wondered if that were true. if willingly putting space between yourself and the person you loved truly helped soothe the soreness as if it were medication for the body’s aches and pains. perhaps the theory could best be applied to your friendship with yuuta okkotsu. 

he’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember — from the moment he moved in next door, his bambi eyes were big and brown, safe and inviting…who were you to keep hiding behind your mothers leg and deny him an invitation to play on the swing set his parents had put up for him in the garden just over the fence? yuuta was the sweetest boy to date, he was always polite with your parents and asked their permission before taking you into the depths of his cardboard fort in the front yard. 

he would walk home with you from pre-k, your chubby little fingers tightly intertwined and the matching charms on your backpacks swinging about the place jingling with every step you took towards home. when you got to middle school and kids were meaner, yuuta stood by your side while you were teased for being quieter than most. he defended you, his shy, patient best friend. 

okkotsu still walked you home, his pinky finger hooked over yours — greeted your mother with that same shy, yet charming tight lipped smile and offered to help her with cooking dinner with that same airy voice of his. your mother would reward you both with a kiss to the forehead and a plate of warm walnut and chocolate chip cookies and your pinkies — still linked underneath the table.

you were always linked. it’s always been yuuta and you. back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand the butterflies in your tummy and the blistering temperature to the back of your neck and your ears — maybe too naive to understand a metaphorical doctor’s diagnosis of a case of early on-set puppy-love. knowing back then would’ve explained why you wrote yuuta’s name on a heart alongside your own or why you squirmed every time you touched.

there was only one explanation. you liked yuuta, loved him. 

you wished that you’d known what that feeling was…because it's soon ripped from your grip and your whole world changes when rika orimoto enters your lives. she was pretty, had a beauty mark smeared daintily across her cheek and gentle eyes that made you feel safe. she was pretty and yuuta thought that too — inside and out. that’s why they became fast highschool sweethearts and why you were left in the dust. 

rika easily made a mess of him, tearing yuuta into a million tiny pieces that only she could put back together. she asks him out on white-day, okkotsu a bumbling mess by the lockers in between gym class and economics as he clutches her neatly written love letter — hearts over the I’s and T’s crossed ever so cutely. she had done to yuuta what he’d been doing to you all of your lives and you’d hardly seen her talk to him around school until that day. 

much to your dismay, they date throughout the rest of highschool and it nearly kills you, having someone that you were once so close to fade-away into near nothingness with growing distance. life where yuuta has a girlfriend ( that isn’t you ) drains the happiness that you got from being around your childhood best friend. it’s selfish, you know, to have wanted to keep him all to yourself. to have him want you instead of her. 

they make plans for after school, babies with names that start with the same letters as theirs and a wedding that’ll be small and flowery and whatever rika wants because yuuta okkotsu would give the girl he loves the entire world. you so badly want to be her. that person who is the centre of his universe. it should be you, it should have always been you — making plans with yuuta and imagining the perfect ring, the one that he would give you in the front yard of his childhood home. it should be your life with him, one that you’d dreamt up with him…and the sick thing is, you can’t have him — because you’re best friends and you’d be risking it all in the name of childish love.

rika, dies just days shy of your highschool graduation and it changes your best friend. a tragic car accident violently takes her life and okkotsu along with it. he’s a shell of the person he used to be, void of his dazzling smile and the comforting warmth that was unavoidable if you spent even just a minute with him. yuuta used to be like sun rays on a sunday morning but after the incident, he felt like blizzards on a dark november's eve. he lost his love, and you were starting to lose him even more than before.

his first love is memorialised at the graduation ceremony and while everyone sends her their thoughts and prayers — you feel sick to your stomach, knowing that for a brief second you’d felt relieved that your competition was gone. loving him was forbidden, he’d just lost his person and so despite your guilt you had to stick it out. be there for him. be there for your friend above all else and hold him up so that he didn’t sink in the deep water of his own grief. you’d save him, at all costs, you’d stop him before he drowned. 

things start to look up when the pair of you head to college — you both get into the same school and find the cutest little off-campus apartment to share. it feels like a home away from home to you both, since your nights before semester begins are spent attempting to master your mother’s famous cookies while practising how to introduce yourselves since you’re both nervous as hell for this new beginning. everything feels like it was when you were both children and didn’t have a single thing to worry about — except now there’s crippling student debt and a four year workload ahead of you…but you’re both excited, together again and it seems like the distance between you has shrunk just a little.

then your love life takes a turn for the worst ( yet again ) and yuuta finds himself running around town with a new crew of friends that he met in a club run by one of your elective professors, satoru gojo. they stay out later than you’re used to and your best friend comes home smelling different too, of strong perfumes and cigarette butts even though you know he doesn’t smoke. as it turns out, there’s another girl. 

maki zenin.

you don’t like her, and to be fair, she doesn’t like you either. so you keep your distance once more, keep your head down when maki does her faux walk of shame out of your best friend’s room — her thighs and her neck covered in bite marks and scratches, his shirt slipped over her body to cover the rest of her decency. he made her breakfast with your food and tea in your designated mug. it hurts to hear her mewl the sweet syllables of his name late at night while you’re stuck with the soundtrack to your own sobs.

it should be like this, distant — far apart because you care about okkotsu and you love him, so it’d be better to avoid it all rather than get him hurt.

your phone ringing in the distance gently lulls you from your reminiscent thoughts and you scramble to pick it up before you end up with a missed call. 

yuuta’s contact flashes across your screen, framed by light and making him look like an angel. it rings and rings, and you know that you should let it go to voicemail. let the space between you grow so you can protect what’s left of his soul. 

but you were never strong when it came to him. 

and you pick up before he can listen to another second of dial tones.

voicemail #1  - “hey yuuta, i hope you’re good, you’ll never guess who stopped by the cafe today— professor satoru! i haven’t seen him since your graduation! anyways, are you still coming over for dinner tonight? i miss you!”

this isn’t like him. 

even after all these years, from pre-k to college — yuuta okkotsu has never missed one of your calls. after graduating you'd made a promise to one another, to keep contact no matter where life took you, a promise of his own volition. you’d have dinner with each other at least once a week just like when you were kids and catch up on your not-so crazy adventures into adulthood. 

you kept up your end of the bargain as your way of keeping okkotsu afloat — to ground him. he’d seen and been through enough hurt to last him a lifetime and if he had to use you as a crutch for comfort, despite your raging feelings for him, then so be it. so you never missed a call, always checked in and made him something nostalgic and tied to the memories of afternoons where your mother would fill you up with her wondrous baked goods or heartwarming soups.

but still, this isn’t like yuuta to not pick up when you call. 

to feel…more distant than usual and of his own accord. 

panic sets in while you listen to the third dial tone, trying to contact him again. taking a deep breath, you pace around the fridge-freezer in the back of your bakery — one that you’d set up shortly after graduating from your business degree. there had to be some explanation for your best friend’s absence. perhaps traffic? maybe he was on the subway catching a ride over? or maybe he just needed space. he’d been going through a lot recently. yuuta didn’t get a job straight out of college and he broke things off with maki shortly after — they wanted different things and had different aspirations.

even still, with the free time left on his hands, there was too much room for him to think about his losses and his loves…it made you worry for him, it made you panic and chew on your nails just like this. “c’mon yu,” you whisper to yourself, the shaky syllables of your words bouncing off the metal house for your ingredients, muffled by paper bags of powdered sugar and organic flours. “where are you?” 

you can barely hear the automated message telling you to leave a voicemail for your friend over the bustling of your afternoon service. if yuuta hadn’t been off the grid, he’d be here helping you with the customers that know him all too well, the old ladies that pinch his cheeks and the younger ones that twirl their hair in an attempt to flirt over miniature cherry bakewell tarts. except he’s nowhere to be found, and you’re nauseous, worried sick about where he could be and what he could be up to. 

you try his cell one more time in an attempt to grab at his attention. there's something weird about today...as if he’s avoiding you, hiding. yuuta always picks up and you always pick up for him, it’s an unspoken rule.

when you’re met with the dial tones again, you hang up — slumped and distraught. there’s hungry customers to feed and you’re overly friendly college professor waiting on a fresh box of sweets you’d used as an excuse to escape to the back of your shop. yuuta can wait for another call from you. 

but you’re not sure if your heart can wait for one back from him. 

voicemail #2  - “it’s yuuta, we need to talk.” 

oddly enough, silence is comforting to you. it reminds you of your best friend, the nights you’d spend coupled up in your dorm with your fingers running through his silken midnight hair, his head in your lap and the both of you shrouded in darkness. more often than not, you could tell how one another’s days went just by body language and when shoulders were slumped and eyes were droopy — yourself and yuuta would curl up together  and just…take in the quiet. 

be close to one another.

so, you bask in the tranquillity of your quaint little cafe as you clear up after a day's work. you sweep floors, wipe tables clean and arrange the tables and chairs with perfect precision. the only sound that accompanies you is the clink of silverware and porcelain plates as you wash the dishes. it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop and the slightest noise is enough to make you jump — just like your phone that vibrates deep within your back pocket, startling you as you scramble to dry your hands so you can see if it’s him who’s been trying to get in touch with you.

it’s embarrassing how quick you are to smile when you see a few missed calls and a voice message from yuuta. though you’ve never quite heard the tune of seriousness that plays in his voice before, your heart won’t stop racing at the mere sound of him speaking. your mind wonders…what could be so urgent that he’d need a ‘talk’?’ 

maybe it was a thank you…for always being beside him or maybe he even liked you. perhaps okkotsu had finally come to his senses and realised how much he’d always needed you…how much he loved you.. the racing thoughts in your brain hopefully jump towards a confession from your best friend and you find yourself getting giddy at its prospect. you practically skip, hop and jump to the back of your cafe, switching out your flour stained clothes for one of the spare and cleaner shirts you keep in the back — you touch up your makeup too, brighten the dark circles under your eyes and blot your worry lines with care. 

you even manage to heat up a few of yuuta’s favourite pastries to serve up by candlelight — rehearsing your own words of confession as if they haven’t been looming around in your head for years. 

the bell to your quaint little cafe chimes with his arrival, a rush of cool, late night air tangling with the temperate atmosphere as you lay your finishing touches on the meal you’d prepared for you both. when you look up, yuuta’s eyes have settled on you — warm and inviting as usual, but bright with a light that had been missing from them since you were young. you’ve missed it, the subtle spark that brings life to the coffee brown oasis in his eyes.

he remains as handsome as ever, taller than you by however many heads — limbs long, arms slightly muscular and waist slender, though his build is more like a dancer’s. yuuta okkotsu grew up to be a fine man and you’d be a fool to have not noticed. he crosses the room in short strides, rushing to take you into his arms and hold you close and squeeze you to his chest. yuuta smells like cookies, you note, hardly paying attention while his lips softly brush over your hairline in a sweet kiss.

“hi,” he whispers, voice smooth like melted chocolate dripping through your ears. “i’ve missed you.”

you only hope that he can’t hear your racing heartbeat, it’s speed picking up as you decide that this is your moment. the moment. “i’ve missed you too,” you mumble back, toying with a loose string on the cream cashmere the dark brunette is wearing. “yuuta…i have to tell you something—“

“i-i have something important to tell you,” he breathes out at the same time as you do, almost shy as you both sway in the centre of the room and enjoy one another’s embrace. 

the both of you share a laugh that’s light and airy before you drag him over to a table and set of chairs, forcing him to sit and to eat the baked goods you’d set out for him. “you first, yuu,” it makes you happy to see him tuck in, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “you owe me a story after disappearing on me today.” 

okkotsu nods in agreement, his cheeks adorably full of food and pastry flaked across his milky skin. “‘m sorry, i was sortin’ something out la’sht minute.” 

“yeah?” 

“y-yeah! i’m moving,” yuuta drops the bomb like it’s nothing. “abroad. for a job! professor gojo set me up and it’s s-supposed to help build my confidence and stuff—“ 

your world falls apart in an instant, sucking away the oxygen in your lungs until you feel like your lungs are failing. yuuta is leaving you and this time it’s for real. 

confessing to him now wouldn't mean shit, you’d only be holding him back. your face crumples faster than you can control at the thought and after years of knowing you— okkotsu instantly picks up your change in mood. 

“what’s wrong?” he says your name and even that hurts to hear.

“n-nothin’ yuu, i’m happy for you, really.” comes your broken voice over the quiet, you fake it until you make it.

“really? you don’t look like it.” 

running a hand over your tired face, you force a smile. “really. especially if you think this is what’s best for you.” 

“it is!” yuuta nearly snaps, controlling himself— stopping himself from yelling at you and tearing your friendship apart before he’s gone. “i need this, need’a be my own person. after college, after highschool i didn’t have time for any of that! i need this.” 

needs it more than he needs you.

“okay.” you say simply, blankly.

“okay.” he says back. 

the debate doesn’t last that much longer after that — the room fills with silence as you grieve your faltering friendship. whatever confession you had planned, now forgotten. 

voicemail #3 -  “yuuta! i wasn’t sure how long your flight was but please call me when you land! you’re gonna do great at your new job.”

yuuta doesn’t call after he lands, in fact two entire days pass before you actually hear from him. after the argument, you’d try to stay on good terms as though not to lose him for good — helping him pack and sort out his currencies, buying him language books since you knew he would struggle with the new dialect. 

you figure it’s because he’s unpacking and not because he doesn’t want anything to do with you — and while you make some late night tea, you find that it’s better to imagine him alone in a new foreign country, picture his pretty pink lips struggling to form the vowels of the new language too, envision how he’ll tan under the blistering hot heat and how excited he’ll be to try new things.

its humiliating how easily he can preoccupy your thoughts from thousands of miles away and makes your heart race so fast that it might burst through the bones and flesh of your chest. he occupies your every thought like a fungus crawling across your brain that’s only disrupted by the sound of your phone ringing loudly — making you drop your tea and jump up to answer.

“hey,” the way yuuta says your name sends tingles down your spine — filtering out any pain you feel from burning your hand. he looks good too, dark hair flopping over his eyes, voice gravelly with sleep as if he’s just woken up and you’re the first thing on his mind. “i got your message, s-sorry for not calling i’ve been—“ 

you cut him off, eager to speak and draw the call out for as long as possible because you missed him. “busy? a guy like you must be extremely popular on the other side of the world.” you’re chipper in an attempt to cover how flustered you are and to cheer your best friend up when you notice how nervous he looks.

“not exactly… i’m nervous. e-everything seems so big ‘nd scary without you here…”

without you.

you shake your head over the grainy FaceTime call. “you’ve always done fine without me, you’ll do even better without having to cover for my shyness!” he laughs at that, the sound like a sweet song to soothe your aching heart. “you got this yuuta.” 

your best friend gives you a sleepy smile, one that melts you like a knob of butter on a hot stove and has your knees knocking. “you’re the best, you know that? you always know what to say.”

the static crackles between you and your heart leaps into your throat. 

“i’m always here for you, yuuta.” 

“and i’m glad for that,” he yawns. “i love you.” 

you have to remind yourself that what your best friend says is strictly platonic but you almost selfishly repeat the words back to yuuta until you notice he’s fallen back asleep. 

ending the call, you clutch your phone and burned hand to your chest. 

“i love you too.”

voicemail #4 - “hey sorry i missed your call, time zones can be crazy! work has been catching up with me and, well, i made a new friend!”

for the first week, you and yuuta text everyday while he’s away. you do your duty and act as his crutch like you always have— keeping him company while he works, eats and commutes all on his own. you feel bad that you lap up the attention he gives you over the phone through his loneliness. you could be compared to a desperately hungry stray animal at the way you drink up every little interaction you have. giving pieces of yourself away to keep your best friend happy. 

but as time goes on, okkotsu seems less and less worried about his job — easily slipping into the language here and there, no longer relying on you to stand on his own two feet. the frequency of your communication dwindles to the point where you really feel like you’re oceans apart. 

even yuuta notices the change within himself — the confidence that filters through him when he says yes to the pretty girl who works in the cubicle next to him when she asks him to tag along for drinks with the rest of the office one night which soon becomes a regular thing. he knows that he speaks less with you and that your texts are barely there but he’s sure you won’t mind the distance. you’re a busy girl, you run a cafe, a few days of not talking wouldn’t do any harm.

“oooh, she’s pretty. who is that?”

kasumi miwa is the one to pull yuuta out from the fog of his thoughts. the brunette looks up from his phone, your face flashing across it’s lock screen as the background. a photo where you have your arms wrapped around him from behind and your smile is as bright as the sunshine. miwa is a pretty girl, different from you. her voice is smoother and eloquent where yours is charming and sweet — she doesn’t remind him of home, or smell like the warmth of a chocolate chip cookie…but she is pretty. her presence is enough to make him shy.

he’s caught her looking a few times, her touch lingering whenever miwa passed him paperwork and right now; her cheeks are tinged pink probably from the alcohol the office is drinking inside where yuuta had come out for some fresh air.

okkotsu clicks his phone shut and stands up at full height to face his blue-haired coworker. “i… i haven’t spoken to her in a while. i miss her.” he says wistfully as he gives your name

“well, if i were dating a girl that pretty, i would miss them too.”

“o-oh! we’re not together! she’s my best friend!”

the woman beside yuuta cocks her head, a satisfied grin spreading across the slope of her lips. “you should call her — i’ll be waiting inside.” 

he follows her eyes as she walks off, along with the whiff of her chanel perfume, before his gaze lands on his phone — he calls your phone. 

you answer after the second ring, though don’t speak straight away, letting the silence wear the both of you thin. “how’ve you been?” you say quietly, lacking the chipperness to your tone that you usually have whenever the two of you ring each other up. there’s no hello, no warmth, you’re cold. 

but yuuta doesn’t ask — he’d like to think he knows you well enough not to. he thinks that you’re fine, probably tired from work and it’s late over there too. if he cared to catch up with you, he’d have been more considerate of that.

“good!” the brunette chirps in order to keep the mood light, leaning over a nearby railing. i miss you. yuuta wants to add, but the words feel like cotton in his mouth, sticking unpleasantly to every surface and for some reason they don’t feel right to say— feel foreign. “work’s been good. i think i’m getting the hang of things around here. my co-workers are great, i get this amazing view every morning a-and—“

“and?” 

“i met someone! i think! i wanna get to know her more but she’s been great to me so far…you’d like her!”

hearts don’t make a sound when they break, but if they did— you’re sure that yuuta would have been able to hear yours even from halfway across the globe. over his own ramblings he can hardly make out the shatter of your vital organ as it falls to pieces, cracks into tiny shards with jagged edges that could make you bleed if you tried to put it back together…because your best friend having met someone means he’s moving on. leaving you behind. and he’s too tone deaf to notice. 

through the static of a phone call, okkotsu misses the crumple of your face and the way your throat bobs as you swallow back salty tears and two decades worth of unrequited love. you’re devastated and he can’t even tell, barely noticing the way you rush off the phone while he’s halfway through a sentence.

his brows furrow when he realises you’ve hung up. 

“i take it that didn’t go well?” kasumi questions when yuuta re-renters the bar, her face sympathetic but voice elevated with smugness. 

he shakes his head once. “no, but it’s okay. she’s been busy.” 

he excuses you but kasumi doesn’t let up, pushing for more of yuuta — breaking him out from his shell, stealing and keeping the pearl of his heart for her taking. “don’t be too sad yuuta, you have me and your new friends, we’ll keep you company instead.”

there’s a hidden meaning behind her cherry picked words. she’ll keep him company — and for once, yuuta doesn’t feel guilty for trying to break away from you.

voicemail #5 - “what happened between us yuuta? you used to tell me everything and now you’ve got a girlfriend? i didn’t even find out through you!”

there’s an unspoken rule to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s – you’re supposed to tell each other everything. there’s not been a secret between you in all the years you’ve known each other except for minor white lies that couldn’t amount to major forms of harm. he might have told you that your hair looked fine on days where you’d barely any time to tend to it and you might have told him that he hadn’t been awkward presenting in front of your entire college class… but those were worthless lies. strings of words tied together that didn’t mean anything, that didn’t have any intent to harm.

there were no secrets, no major ones.

until now.

“he’s got a girlfriend, yanno…”

the news is shared with you casually from over the counter one day by your irritating white-haired ex-professor who makes a habit of annoying his old students. he comes in for sweets often and the daifuku you make is his favourite – you offer him extra in exchange for updates on the classmates you used to share since he’s nosey like that.

with every visit to your little cafe, gojo filled you in on everything yuuta had been up to in the blurred weeks and months since you’d last spoken – including his relationship status. “she’s pretty too, long hair. s’blue which is an odd colour, but she’s been good to him, ‘pparently. boosted his confidence.”’ the man cocks his head, watching in real-time as your movements in packing up his order slow down.

your throat bobs whilst you swallow your fading pride in front of your teacher, forcing down a wave of tears. it doesn’t matter how many times yuuta gets over you, moves on from you, finds someone to love other than you… it still hurts. it’ll always hurt knowing that he can fill the other half of his heart with someone that isn't you, while your own stays void and empty.

as always, satoru gojo sees right through your resolve as you total up his order – again forgoing charging him extra for the little tid bit of gossip he’d given you. there’s a shell of someone he doesn’t recognise in place of the girl he used to teach – the one who was once full of life and eager to learn, get out into the world and achieve your dreams. yuuta okkotsu had chipped away at you, the years you’d spent protecting his feelings had caused you to drown in your own.

and gojo could see that, he knew that. he’d been through it before.

he only wishes he had better words of comfort for you.

“you love him, don’t you?” he asks you quietly as you ring him up but you answer with his total in yen instead – sniffling as you do. professor gojo takes his brown paper bag, full of enough sugar to make the heart stop – to kill a person, but even that’s a better death than the heartache you’re going through now. you sniff and he offers you a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach the sapphire eyes behind his shades. “better yet, don’t answer that. i don’t need anymore tears in my daifuku.”

voicemail #6 - “oh fuck yuuji, right there…” “here baby? oh you’re so cute, fuck ‘m gonna—!” “oh… yuuji!” 

( incoming voicemail from - yuuta: “hey, call me back? who’s yuuji? are you okay?” )

yuuta knows that he shouldn’t have kept listening – he should have deleted the voicemail as soon as he caught onto what was happening. it didn’t take a genius to know what was going on, the sounds of skin slapping on skin, your voice wavering with the tune of lust even over the static crackle of the voicemail you’d left. 

he wishes that he’d never heard you moan out like that for someone else, that he wasn’t picturing the faces you’d make underneath the body of another man…but he couldn’t help it. the more he listened, the angrier he felt, the more betrayal flooded his veins and clouded his usually clear judgement. the brunette had no right to be this mad at you, he was supposed to be happy with miwa, supposed to be letting you move on just like he had done from you.

and yet, like a necrotizing parasite – jealousy feasts at the back of okkotsu’s mind. it disrupts his work, distracts him from his girlfriend and fills his mind with flashing images of you being fucked five ways by another man. one that isn’t him. yuuji. who even is yuuji? how did you meet him? were you dating him? you hadn’t talked in so long so the guy had barely come up in conversation. you were best friends that used to tell each other everything and now he felt like you were fucking someone new behind his back. yuuta knew nothing of what that stranger meant to you, he had no idea that yuuji itadori was just some college boy you’d brought home one drunken night – to act as a salve for the burns your childhood best friend had left on you.

it's a temporary fix, yuuji’s tongue laps at your wounds – pleasures you with teeth and tongue until your head is light and you’re almost too dizzy to think properly. in the moment, he felt good, he took care of you…but he wasn’t who you wanted. he wasn’t yuuta.

was it bad that you basked in the jealous rage and attention the brunette had bathed you in? drowning you in a barrage of text messages  the morning after you’d slept with itadori, when yuuta finally had the chance to listen to the voicemail you’d left by accident. it was the most you’d gotten out of him in the months you’d been separated.

yuuta - 7:16AM: hey…did you mean to send that? call me when you’re up.

yuuta - 7:45AM: i don’t think i was supposed to hear that…

yuuta - 8:34AM: who’s yuuji?

yuuta - 8:36AM: are you seeing someone? call me please.

yuuta - 8:57AM: pick up the phone.

yuuta - 9:21AM: it’s not funny anymore. i’m worried. pick up.

you answer your phone around noon, having given yourself the space to think over cooking a hang-over breakfast for yuuji. the sounds of spitting oil underneath frying eggs had provided the soundtrack to your thoughts – helped you pick and choose the words you would say to yuuta before your companion slips out of your apartment and you tell him to grab a pastry from your cafe downstairs on his way out. a little thank you for the night you’d shared.

“what the hell was that?” is the first thing yuuta snarls down the line once your call connects.

you shift your phone in your grasp, as if his seething tone has scorched the palm of your hand. “are we past greetings or somethin’, yuu?” you fail to admit that it hurts you, starting the call without his tender and caring ‘hello’, you feel like an enemy on the battlefield to okkotsu, rather than his friend.

“i think we are well past that, especially with the kind of voice messages you’ve been leaving me.” he says it like he’s disgusted with you, when he really just misses you. craves you. he’s angry at himself and for letting you slip between his fingers into the grasp of another man. not at you. never at you. but even cell phone lines connecting calls from across the globe can’t properly convey the way yuuta feels. “what’s going on with you? why are you acting like this? we haven’t spoken in weeks and you–?”

“why is what i do any of your business anymore, yuuta?” you snap through his flurry of questions, growing heated yourself. “i accidentally left you a voicemail of me fucking someone, that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me.”

“you’re just… not like this. we don’t speak and all of a sudden…y-you’re different!”

you clutch the phone tighter, swallowing thickly. “and who’s fault is that? let me answer that for you. it’s yours. you’re the one who got a girlfriend and left me in the dust. not the other way around!” you argue, trying to sound stern and steady though yuuta can hear the wobble to your words loud and clear. “you shouldn’t have listened, you should have called. you let the distance become a problem between us.”

he scoffs, an action so unlike your best friend. “we’re not children anymore! you should have talked to me about the distance!” 

“i couldn't!” you defend yourself, desperate for the pain in your heart to be heard for once. “you were finally happy again yuuta! that mattered to me—“ 

“you think i'm happy about hearing my best friend get…defiled over the phone?” 

“well you should be! it means I’m not hung up on you anymore, that i’m moving on from being in love with you! leaving you so that you can be happy in your new life!” 

the silence from yuuta’s end of the phone is both too loud and too deafening. 

“you…loved me?” he whispers, switching back to that same sweet tone he always used when it came to you. “why didn’t you say?”

your stupid little confession, the one you’d been holding back for more than half your life, sips out before you can catch it with the tip of your tongue and you instantly feel terrible for weaponizing your crush on okkotsu against him. at least that’s what it feels like you’ve done. “i never told you…because i’m not selfish, yuuta,” you stutter out, your face hot with oncoming and flustered tears. “i-i'm not a selfish person. i wouldn’t sacrifice our friendship or your happiness, not just because i loved you.”

yuuta says your name, but blood rushes through your ears in embarrassment – way too fast for you to catch it, and you hang up before you can humiliate yourself any further.

before you can hear him say that he loves you too.

voicemail #7 - “open up, i'm coming home. please be here when I’m home.” 

the number you have dialled is unavailable, please try again later.

after the slip of your tongue and confession to yuuta— he was met with radio silence. you’d blocked him on every form of social media possible and he couldn’t even blame you. you wanted to be free from him, from that silly and imaginary red string that had kept you tied to his soul for all of these years. it hurt to think when everything reminded you of him, so you buried yourself in your cafe and worked yourself to death because even the sweet relief from life would be better than living without your best friend. 

gojo had stopped by and taken you to the hospital twice since you’d worked yourself into exhaustion — tonight was no different, sentenced to bed rest by your ex-professor and the best doctor he could find. he always did look out for his students.

sleeping your sadness away had caused you to miss a barrage of yuuta’s calls — if you’d picked up you’d have known that he was coming home. coming home for you. in the wake of your love confession, okkotsu had realised how much he needed you and how much he loved you. you had never left his side, no matter what yuuta had been through, and now, nothing feels right without you. 

so he broke up with his girlfriend, took leave from his job and flew halfway across the world for you — to give his message in person. 

it’s near midnight by the time yuuta gets back to japan, the warm yellow of the streetlights illuminating the path right up to your apartment after getting out of the uber. there’s a spare house key, glinting gold, hidden under your cupcake shaped doormat just as yuuta remembers and he uses it to slip inside — dumping his bag and kicking his shoes off at the entryway. his socked feet locate the bedroom with ease, perhaps drawn by your aura and the anticipation of seeing you again.

and there you are, so close yet so far away — your face peaceful and painted with an adorable expression of slumber. okkotsu notes the way your chest slowly rises and falls, the crease between your brow as if you’re having a bad dream. he could fix it… whatever’s plaguing your sleeping mind, he knows that he can, because whenever you touch each other, it’s like your bodies know to relax and that they’re safe.

tiptoeing deeper into the room, the brunette slinks up to the side of your bed and the mattress dips underneath the weight of his knee as he seats himself beside you. you’re so beautiful, so calm. he doesn’t know how he went his whole life without choosing you, choosing other people over you time and time again. “i love you,” yuuta whispers into the dead of the night, brushing a thumb and forefinger over the apple of your cheek — hesitating when you roll into his body heat. “i love you. i’m so sorry.” he says again, while pressing a feather light kiss to that same spot. 

his breath hitches when you reach for him this time, grabbing at the man in your sleep.

yuuta kisses you again, but on your forehead. then your other cheek, your chin, your inner wrists and finally — your lips. each brush of his own against you is increasingly feverish, pouring unspoken emotions into them as he quietly utters the words ‘i love you.’ over and over again. he feels like he has something to prove, as if the brunette has to show you how much he cares for you — leaving a trail of sweet smooches between the valley of your breasts from over your night-shirt to between your thighs that spill out of the loose material.

he only hopes that this is enough for you to forgive him, for you to love him back like he does you.

your best friend… or ex best friend really should feel bad about this, teething on the swell of your thighs— his fingertips sinking into their apex to pry you apart for him. you could end up hating him more for this, yuuta’s slick and drool stained tongue rolling over the seam at the crotch of your panties hungrily, softly as if to test the waters. he takes it as a good sign when your face contorts with pleasure even in your sleep and slots his entire mouth against the sweet treasure between your legs— sucking the juices from the fabric of your underwear.

you taste so good and he’s not even got you properly wet yet. yuuta’s next move is to hook two fingers over the garment to pull it aside — revealing your twitching hot cunt to the cool night air in your bedroom. even your scent is divine, enticing just as you’ve always been and the brunette can’t believe he was too blind to see it before. he presses a chase kiss to your clit, feeling it pulse to life against his lips before said kisses become open mouthed and sloppy— tongue diving into the tightness of your little hole, circling it to flick your flavour back into his mouth. 

his movements start slow, tenderly testing which spots inside your pretty little cunt make you sigh out contently while you slumber but the wetter you get, the sloppier yuuta becomes — lapping at your sex and your clit in eager movements like a kitten at a bowl of milk. you only stir awake when his fingers travel up to grip onto your ass and tug your pussy onto his face, guiding you up and down on his writhing tongue like he’s fucking you for real.

“y-yuu?” you grumble, still finding your footing in the reality of consciousness. “whas’ h-happenin’… oh my god—!”  the questions you have for the mop of hair between your legs, groaning like a starved man into there too, taper into an angelic moan. pretty and airy, like music to yuuta’s ears. once you come to and fully realise what’s going on, your fingers slip into the roots of his hair and your hips buck into his mouth instinctively — even though you should be pissed. even though you should be screaming at him and kicking him off. you can’t help it that this is what you’ve always wanted. that you’ve always wanted him.

“w-what are you doing here?” you manage to ask through a whine, brain fogging up at the way yuuta’s tongue runs laps over your swelling clit. 

he pulls off of you with a lewd pop that makes both of you shudder, two of his slender digits easily sliding into you where his tongue once was — guided by spit and slick. “i came home for you. i love you,” your best friend doesn’t have time to formulate proper reasoning, drunk on your saccharine flavour  like you’re the finest wine he’s ever had the honour of tasting. “f-fuck, i-i missed you.”

yuuta gives you those big puppy dog eyes as he curls his digits inside of you and hits spots you can't quite reach on your own. you should be talking about your feelings not fucking through them but you’ve missed him so much and need him so bad. both of you groan in unison when he brushes over your g-spot, your hips jumping up and his grinding down into your silky sheets. 

“missed you too,” you breathe and yank him up by the hair to meet your lips — making out with him feverishly, swapping the words your mind can’t seem to force you to say, pouring the mixed emotions into him as he finger fucks your tight little hole like his life depends on it.

every movement you make with one another is sloppy and uncoordinated, tongues doused in one another’s saliva— saliva that tastes like you. your moans mingle in the hot and heavy air and you clench down on yuuta’s fingers as they pump in and out of you, his palm slapping against your folds while you leak into the seat of his palm. 

“are you close?” yuuta slurs into your mouth so quietly you almost miss it underneath the lewd sound of your pussy. “i want to make you cum, show you how much i love you.”

blood rushes through your ears, heat pin pricking like needles under your skin. “y-yes. p-please yuu…” 

his thumb dragging smooth circles over the pulsating bud between your blooming pussy lips is all you need to trip over the edge into your high— the knots in your lower tummy unwinding faster than you can register, waves of your nectar flowing from your cunt onto the sheets below and soiling yuuta’s hand right up to his wrist. 

your head tips back into a high pitched squeal, eyes locked away and rolling back while you damn near black out from your orgasm. but your best friend is right there like he should be, sucking love-bites into your neck to ground you. dark tresses of yuuta’s chocolate-like hair tickle at your tingling flesh while he manoeuvres himself between your legs and shifts his pants down enough to let his rock hard cock spring free. 

“c-can you take me now?” he pleads more than he asks, brown and warm eyes trembling with need, anticipation. “i don’t think i’ll last long and i need you.” 

you feel him press at your entrance, his angry red tip glistening with opaque beads of precum— yuuta softly ruts his hips against you, smearing…claiming you with his own essence while he waits for your consent. “i’ve always needed you, yuuta.” you say breathlessly, giving him a small grin and nod when he looks up from drooling against your neck. 

that’s all the go ahead he needs before his thick girth pushes all the way into you at once — weighty and temperate against your ribbed and creamy walls. “‘ohmyfuckinggod,” he whimpers wetly against you. “y-you’re so tight wrapped around me. so perfect i—“ 

“move, yuuta. fuck me, please,” you remind him, tugging on his air and crossing your ankles at the base of his spine. 

“y-yeah okay…g-god you’re so good. so sweet ‘n tight.” with that, he draws his hips back — hesitant at first. brown eyes watch your face for any signs of discomfort and yuuta’s lust driven instincts take the lead when he only notices how blissed out you look. your pretty lips are agasp, forming a pleasure-filled ‘o’ as you mewl and claw at his half-clothed shoulders. “i love you, o-oh god!”

all you can do is whimper in response, fingers drifting up to the nape of yuuta’s neck to tangle in his dark locks— tugging him into you as if it’ll make him hit deeper, churn up your guts and make you see stars. “y-you’re stupid…” you manage to get out, the warmth of your breath glossing his lips as if to taunt your best friend with a kiss. 

“i know…” calloused fingers grab at the backs of your thighs with a bruising grip before yuuta pushes your legs towards your shoulders, both of you grunting and whining in unison when you tighten around him at the new angle. gushing sweet juices that paint his stomach and pelvis.

“y-you shouldn’t have left me,” tears start to brim, collecting in your lash line like diamonds before they hit your cheeks.

you’re so beautiful like this, even when you’re crying— when you’re crying because you’re fucked up on his cock, claiming it with your cream as ur clings to his balls and the veins that spital down his length. 

yuuta’s red hot tip nudges against the soft and squishy spots along your sensitive walls, keeping his thrusts at a rhythmic and passionate pace to make sure the only thing you feel is heaven on earth. your pussy is hot and warm and heaven-like around him, sucking him in so selfishly and tightening every time yuuta’s strong abs grind against your puffy clit. 

“i know,” he sighs dreamily and with an airy voice, licking a stripe from your chin to your cheek as a tear streaks it’s way down it. “won't ever leave you again,” his fingers touch at your face, sinking into the softness of your cheeks as he drags you up to face him. “i’ll never leave you again.” 

“never?” you ask, hiccuping.

“never.” he moans.

you see it there, the love glittering amongst the almond flecks in your childhood best friend’s eyes — he means it, he promises it and you can feel it with every roll of yuuta’s hips into you while he pins you to the bed. he makes love to you and says what he needs to through his actions this time. through your tangled mess of sweaty limbs and fluttering lashes you find okkotsu’s hand, linking them together. 

the sight of your hands meeting one another brings emotions bubbling to the surface of your skin, hot to yuuta’s touch — it's a symbol that you’ve finally come together after being worlds apart for so long. “you’re finally mine, ‘m never letting you go,” his warm breath coasts across the seam of your lips before he dips into kiss you— tongue gliding over yours as it pushes into the depths of your mouth just as his cock does, brushing up against your g-spot and just  kissing your cervix. “you’re always going to be mine.” 

“i-i’m yours,” your eyes roll back and yuuta loses his pace, his entire body twitching the closer you both get. sex taints the air, both in sound and scent, your cunt squelching around him with how wet you are and how much he leaks into you. “g-gonna cum, yuu! make me cum, make me fucking cum.”  you slur out, anchoring the man down to you with your arms around his neck until yuuta’s forehead is pressed against yours. sweaty locks of his hair and all.

yuuta’s body collapses against you and his thrusts switch to sensual grinds that never let up on your spongey g-spot. “f-fuck me, b-baby. ‘m cummin’,” he croons, panting against your lips and with one, two, three more pumps you’re squirting all over him— the pressure unwinds in your lower belly and you’re hit with blinding white lights and your nails dig into yuuta’s shoulder to the point where you leave bright red crescent moons. “that’s it baby, cum for me, make a mess for me. show me you love me— fuck!” 

you’re still trembling with the aftershocks with your orgasm when the brunette follows suit — the warmth of his seed floods your quivering cunt, painting your folds an opaque white before yuuta pulls out. the last droplets of his cum hit your soft tummy accompanied by his high pitched whine  and then he crumples against you, exhausted from the height of it all. 

“i love you so much,” yuuta hums against your skin, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “it’s always been you.” 

“i love you,” you affirm, knowing that no matter what distance is put between you and your best friend (now lover) — you’ll always find your way back to each other. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[logansdoll]

Heyyy it would be awesome if you wrote a third part for “37” where Charles gives Logan’s memories back and we go through flashbacks of some of his best memories, his wedding, the day his kids were born…something like that, it would be very heartwarming 🥰🥰🥰 or even maybe coming back from the past and seeing his kids again

sunflower

part three of "37"

CW: fluffy fluff, all the feels, suggestive, profanity, takes place after the events of Days Future Past, very bittersweet, your daughter's a lil menace, your son's a lil cutie pie, angst if you squint, i never know how to end these things, etc.

"Logan, the mind is a fickle thing," Charles sighed, resting his hands on his desk with a solemn look. "I can't possibly guarantee that this will work, much less in one session—" "I don't care how long it takes."

Logan's face drew tight with the statement, his patience visibly wearing thin.

He'd been listening to the same bullshit for twenty minutes...

"I don't care if I need a hundred different fuckin' sessions. I'm gettin' these memories back," he spelled out, leaning forward in his seat and roughly tapping his finger on the desk. "It doesn't make any damn sense. This body's been in this timeline for fifty-fuckin'-years and it doesn't remember shit."

"Because it is your consciousness that is the problem, Logan," Charles groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That is what I've been trying to tell you."

Logan piped down for a moment, brows knitting together as he leaned back in his seat, taking an annoyed drag of his cigar.

"Your psyche is from a completely different timeline, and now resides in a completely different body. It's like asking to recall the memories of a random person walking down the street," the professor explained, again.

Sadly, he hung his head, greatly sorry for the misfortune of his friend.

"I wish there was something I could do, Logan. Truly. But I'm afraid it just can't be done."

But Logan didn't buy it.

Huffing a small plume of smoke out his nose, he glanced out the window, catching sight of you teaching a class on the lawn.

Using your powers, you grew a large sunflower out from the ground, the younger kids marveling at the sight as you began pointing out its anatomy, most of them enamored by the huge petals—which were bigger than their little six year-old frames.

And in a small pause in time, your eyes flitted up to meet his through the window, that heart-stopping smile finding its way onto your lips as you gave him a tiny wave.

It warmed him, experiencing your light for the first time in years without the threat of annihilation on the horizon.

Domesticity like this is something he'd craved all his life, and now that he had it in his grasp, he wasn't going to settle for anything less.

A stilling chill descended on his chest at the thought of your smile, and the countless others he'd missed.

Your tears of joy when he proposed.

Your frazzled excitement with the wedding planning.

Your radiance as you walked down the aisle.

He missed it all.

And he'd be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to try and get it back.

"Charles..." Logan started, stamping out his cigar in a nearby ashtray. "My whole life is standin' out there under that tree... and I can't remember a goddamn thing about her after 1973."

His tone turned cold, eyes sharp as he stared the professor down.

"I don't care if you have to rip my head in half... I'm gettin' those memories back."

The old man let out a sigh, accepting that going on like this would bring no other outcome.

He'd have to give the man what he wanted... consequences be damned.

'Let's hope he survives...'

"This will be violent," Charles stated off-rip, wheeling himself out from behind his desk. "I am essentially hammering your mind like a dam, making cracks in its defenses until it eventually gives way."

Logan nodded, watching as the man settled in front of him, raising his two fingers to his temple.

"Now... try not to move."

Logan shut his eyes, and in an instant, it felt as if his head was struck by a speeding train.

He let out a growl of pain as images began to flash behind his eyes, the next one always coming quicker than the last.

"Hon, which color do you think would go best with my complexion? Eggshell or Porcelain?" you asked, eagerly holding up two different swatches against your skin.

"You look beautiful in anything, baby," he stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Either one is fine."

"As sweet as that is... it doesn't help," you huffed, playfully attempting to scold him.

"Fine then. Eggshell," he answered, quickly.

You raised a brow, an amused smile playing at your lips as you leaned in closer, "Are you just saying that to get me to shut up?"

He let out a chuckle, resting his forehead against yours, "Never."

Yes...

"Can't wait 'til this damn reception is over," he growled in your ear, lips dragging down your neck as you both hid in a nearby hallway. "First time I've been alone with you since I do."

"Logan..." you gasped, tucking your lip between your teeth in an attempt to muffle yourself as he tightly grasped your hips. "Someone'll hear..."

"Then I guess you better keep quiet," he smirked against your skin, giving your collarbone a soft nip.

It's all coming back...

"Logan..." you started, nervously, hands held firmly behind your back. "I have something to tell you... and I'm open to talk about it if you're upset..."

His brows furrowed as he turned away from his dresser, looking toward you with an air of concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his protective instinct spiking at the sight of your fearful expression. "What happened?"

Unable to say it, you slowly held up your hand, revealing a positive pregnancy test.

His eyes widened like saucers, throat drying at the tiny piece of plastic.

"You're... pregnant?"

You nodded, silently, his reaction not soothing your anxiety one bit.

But, as if on cue, he moved toward you, striding across the room and pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

"I'm gonna be a father..." he muttered into your hair, the phrase not one he thought he'd ever hear. "I'm gonna be a father..."

Wait...

"Logan!" you cried, tears welling in your eyes as you glanced up at him, scared. "I can't...mmmph fuck!... I can't do it! Hurts too much!"

"C'mon, baby, keep pushin'. You're doin' so good," he cooed, swiping stray strands of hair out your face as the nurse on the other side of the bed helped cheer you on. "Just a little bit more. You're right there."

With a grunt, you squeezed his hand tight, letting out a growl of pain as you gave another push.

Pop!

Logan's eyes shot wide, the man nearly biting through his tongue as he glanced down at his hand.

You dislocated his finger.

Though it seemed to be worth it as that final push was what did it.

"It's a girl!" the doctor smiled, carefully holding up the newborn.

Looking upon her small, chubbed face, Logan felt a sense of protectiveness sink into his chest—one that he only felt when things came to you.

In that moment, and every moment after that, he knew he would lay his life down for her, no question.

And she wasn't even a minute old yet.

I have—

"James! Get back here!" a little girl squealed with laughter, bursting into the office after a little boy, who looked terrified.

Logan snapped out his head with a gasp, shooting up from his seat and unsheathing his claws out of muscle memory.

'James...'

Quickly, Logan retracted his claws as the boy ducked behind his leg, gripping tightly onto his jeans as the girl stormed over.

She looked just like you, save for a few small details, and had a small snaggle-tooth poking out on her right side, only adding to her adorableness.

Not to mention the bone claws she had protruding from her knuckles.

"No fair! You can't hide behind Dad every time you're scared!" she furrowed her brows, upset.

"Mommy told you about your claws, Laura..." James mumbled, voice barely above a whisper as he shyly peeked out from behind his human shield.

'Laura...'

The boy was Logan's mirror image, looking almost exactly like he did at that age..

Apple doesn't fall too far from the tree...

Charles could sense the pieces clicking in Logan's mind, and figured lending a hand would be best after what he'd been through.

"Logan, these are your—" "Laura Marie Howlett!" your voice cut in, the little girl flinching at the sound.

Quickly, she retracted her claws, whipping around with a guilty smile, which was met by your less-than-approving glare.

"What have I told you about chasing your brother inside? And what have I told you about using your claws to do it?" you scolded, walking into the office. "You two are interrupting your father and Professor Xavier."

Logan let out a soft sigh, taking the moment to finally look over his family.

Like a slow moving stream, things were coming back to him, the feeling like a fog clearing from the recesses of his mind.

Every birthday.

Every boo-boo.

Every first.

Slowly but surely, they were all returning.

Without warning, Logan dropped to his knees, pulling the two kids into a tight hug, fiercely fighting off the emotion swelling in his chest.

"Daddy?" James squeaked, concerned.

"Are you okay?" Laura asked, confused.

He nodded, silently, the sight making your heart both burst and ache.

After all this time, your husband was truly whole.

Fifty years of suffering and agony had finally come to an end.

taglist !!

@catiwinky @seamlessepiphany @vinaluvsu @kellyxo1 @amandarobertsboyce  @captainloki1 @qveendiorsworld @sarahskywalker-amidala @mei-simp @oatmilkriver @br3nt-12 @bimboshaggy @lightsgore @edszn @couturewinx @sunroxic @notanotheroldman @bontensbabygirl @buckleysg1rl @marvelgirlie-4 @eljaynosine-triphosphate @nickf1 @pinkisokay @mercurysjoy

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hello! How is my favorite author? I have a request from xadenriorson, something angst (I need it) Since I read your fics, I know how great you are at writing them and make us happy and sad at the same time.

26 days

“Where were you?”, the sound of Xaden’s voice ripped through the ache in your head that had been throbbing for the majority of the day. Not to mention the piercing pain in your heart. Brought by the fact that you had hoped to not see him. Had wished that he wouldn’t have bothered to come to the landing. But here he was. Frowning so hard his face was almost red.

“I’m talking to you y/n, and when I’m talking…”, he had stepped closer, reaching for you when you cut in, “You’re not talking. You’re yelling!”, you hissed back. You knew that the sensible thing would have been taking this up to your room. Not doing it here. Where the fleeing cadets saw it. Where your friends would see it.

“What do you expect me to do when you’re acting like a toddler?”, Xaden’s voice dripping venom. The veins in his hands were so visible now considering that he had been clenching his fists ever since he had found out about your little excursion. You didn’t regret it though. You would do it again.

“I was doing my job”, you said blankly. Yes, you had taken your squad to fly over the waterfalls. Was the place considered a war zone? Yes. But doing the plunge gave them the feeling of falling, of losing control for a shared moment and no one bothered to teach them this here in the college.

“Your job was to do the patrol and fly back but what did you do?”, Xaden rubbed at his temple. Bits of his shadow twirling around his legs and arms. He was close to losing control. “We saw an opportunity”, your blazing eyes met his. “We? You led them!”, Xaden let out a growl, gritting his teeth so hard, his jaw had to hurt. “I know what I’m doing for fuck sake. I earned my spot”, your palms met his solid chest as you shoved him back, or at least attempted to. Not wanting him so close to you. “Yet you’re not above me”, Xaden pointed out bitterly, that was enough to make your heart plunge, “Oh, fuck you and your titles”.

“Guys maybe…”, Bodhi had cut in, turning to step closer to you two. But you and Xaden had met him with a chorus of, “Shut the fuck up”, and “Get lost”. “Don’t interfere, Bo”, Imogen pulled at the male's hand. You silently hoped that she would walk him out. That they all would go. So explaining yourself and this mess would be easier. You were running out of lies at this point.

“I’m subtracting you from the squad”, a couple of surprised gasps sounded around. A shiver ran down your back as you muttered, “Don’t you dare”. This could easily get you expelled too. And that meant dying a slow death because no one left the war college on their own two feet.

“You need to learn”, Xaden’s words finally broke something in you. As if the vessel holding the volt with all the suppressed emotions finally cracked open. “And who are you putting in my place, huh?”, you said with a bitter laugh. You were his second in command. Had been even before you two tangled duty and love together. “That’s none of your business”, he said dismissively, turning back from you but he didn’t make it far. “Offer it to your sweet Violet or Violence? Is that what you call her?” as if your words had turned Xaden into a statue he froze. You could see his back muscles tense. His shoulder twitched. “Bullseye, Riorson”, you imitated making a throw at him as Xaden turned back to face you. You knew that he was blissfully unaware that you knew and the bubble had bursted just now.

“YN”, his voice was way lower now, smooth. A voice of someone caught redhanded. “Oh now you go all sweet?”, you mocked him, crossing your arms over your chest as the wind picked up around you two.

“Nothing is going on between us”, Xaden practically hissed but you could hear that thread of worry there. “How unfortunate”, you cooed, “maybe you should shoot your shot with her after all”, you outstepped him, patting his shoulder once. Xaden gripped your wrist, “What the fuck are you talking about?”, and there it was that changed look in his eyes. The mask was off. He was no longer a wing leader. Just Xaden. But you found it so hard to care.

“I’m done playing your rag doll”, you pulled your hand out of his grasp harshly. “Yn”, he muttered, the anger replaced with a plea now. Oh how quickly the tables had turned. You simply stepped back, “No Xaden, that’s it”. Your eyes looked past him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look straight at him. Not now. Not when parts of your heart still yarned for him. “I lost my temper, we argued. I worry about you because I care, baby”, his words made your gut turn. Quickly you extended your hand upfront, stopping him in his tracks.

But then you had mustered the last bits of strength you had. Lifting your gaze to meet his panicked eyes. You didn’t let yourself assess if it was real as you said, “Do you remember the last time you told me that you loved me?” The words might as well have been a dagger plunged at Xaden’s heart. You saw the pain that flooded his eyes. You saw his jaw flex. But he stayed silent. You simply nodded, fighting the tears, “That’s what I thought”, you let a bitter chuckle slip out, “It’s been 26 days, Xaden, and I think it’s enough for the last bits of the embers to die down”, your voice cracked at the last moment, but you didn’t let your head drop as you marched right past him.

[zhivaoverdrive]

Saline Thief, 3

At this moment, all Amy wished was that the nurse would speak quietly. But alas.

"Now, I know it says scheduled fill here, but it's been a while since we've seen you!" chirped the nurse Laura, as the two women walked from the waiting room.

"I've just been b-" Amy began.

"XL expander implants, 8000cc capacity! Wow" said Laura, her tone hovering between playful and concerning.

"So much room to grow, but maybe we can max you out today!" she continued.

"This is absurd" thought Amy to herself.

"Here I am, struggling to keep walking pace, my tits pumped so huge they're pulling me off balance with every step.

I don't own any bras, I can't even find a place to custom make me one.

This nurse KNOWS what I've done, why is she teasing me this way? Should I just admit it-"

Entering the room, Laura motioned for her to sit.

"Okie dokie! shirt off. Let's see what we can do today huh!" said the nurse gleefully.

Moment of truth, perhaps time to rip the bandaid off?

Surely the charade would end once her monstrously expanded breasts were exposed.

Noone can look at what I've done to myself... and let me go further. 

These spheres I'm attached to, their tortured vein covered skin, areolas stretched as wide as a palm.

Amy had been trying to adjust as quickly as she could, but the damage from her night missions was... incalculably.  Unmanageable.

She still didn't have an accurate count, but her '8k expanders' must have been closer to 30,000cc than they were 8. "Sweetie, if you don't mind me saying..." began Laura

Here it comes. I've been such an idiot. Why did I get so ahead of myself...

I should have stayed home, ghosted this place. What did I expect to happen

"You're looking GREAT for only 4500cc! 

I know you've got your heart set on hitting your implant capacity today, but..."

UGH. I don't remember saying that. This is all her idea, she's baiting me.

Wants me to admit what I've done. To save myself.

I can't take any more filling! She knows it!

"Well. Let's not get ahead of ourselves... I can't recommend overfilling you too much, the weight could start to really affect your life you know!" said Laura, as she gently caressed Amy's orbs, either testing their elasticity or appreciating her grossly stretched skin, riddled with veins and stretch marks.

"Doubling your size today with a teeny overfill would really be pushing the limit... you're such a slight girl after all!"

The nurse causally connected the filling apparatus as she spoke, consulting the small electronic control unit in her hand every now and then, when she wasn't touching Amy's hopelessly inflated breasts, that is.

“Try to hold still Amy! You’re wiggling all over the place. Can’t you stand up still for just a moment?” chastised Laura, as her patient struggled to manage the immense burdens in her chest.

Even seated, Amy struggled to stay upright without moving, she was already exhausted…

“I’ve hurt my back-” Amy tried to explain, to no avail.

Nurse Laura grinned. It wasn’t malicious, but it wasn’t friendly.

“You’ll have to look after your back sweetie, they’re not going to get any lighter!

"Rest on the desk, let's get lefty up to capacity, then see how we're looking, shall we? I'll be back to check on you soon!"

[marvelsmylife]

Opposites attract

Pairing: Brennan Sorrengail x marked!reader

Plot: this is the story of how Brennan fell in love with someone he shouldn’t have.

A/n I don't know if you guys will like the ending but I had fun writing this

Request

Fourth Wing Masterlist

Growing up Brennan thought he and his family were on the right side of history. That changed when he realized what was going on outside of the wards and the lies his own mother kept from everyone in Navarre.

You were just seventeen when you first met Brennan. No one wanted to help him recover because he was the general's son, so you volunteered and stayed by his side until he was able to move around on his own. Brennan would thank you repeatedly for your generosity because he knew you weren't obligated to help him. “Please don’t thank me. Any decent person would do what I did. Unfortunately, a lot of people here can’t get over the fact that you’re General Sorrengail’s son.”

After explaining to him what happened while he was unconscious, Brennan was filled with guilt when he discovered that your parents were captured and were set to be executed in three days. “I’m sorry this is happening,” Brennan apologized.

“It’s ok. You weren’t the one who put the orders in to execute my parents,” you cleared your throat and tried to avoid eye contact with him, “I have to pack soon. They’re putting all of us in a foster home until we can attend Basgiath. I don’t want to, but I don’t get a say in the matter.”

Brennan’s heart started to break at your confession. While he willingly enrolled in Basgiath, you were forced to enroll, and he knew how grueling it was. “I’ll write to you if you wish, at least until you leave for Basgiath,” Brennan replied, “Basgiath is not for the weak, especially the rider’s quadrant. I’ll write to you on what to do when you arrive and how to survive.”

“You would do that for me?” you looked at Brennan stunned, and he nodded his head, “Why would you do that? You don’t even know me.”

“Because you’re helping me right now without hesitation,” Brennan replied. All you could do was smile as you continued to take care of Brennan before you were instructed to return to your quarters.

True to his word, Brennan would send you letters of encouragement and tips on how to survive at Basgiath until you had to leave your foster home. Once you arrive at Basgiath you and the majority of the marked ones attending were more than prepared for the three years you will be spending there.

Throughout that time you would cross paths with Brennan from time to time and you would catch up like you were old friends. 

He lost his shit when he discovered that Violet was forced to become a rider because of his mother. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep a close eye on her and keep her out of harm’s way,” you tried to reassure Brennan, but you could still detect some worry in his eyes.

“Thank you,” Brennan placed a kiss on your forehead before pulling you into a tight embrace. That was the first, but not the last time Brennan kissed you. 

It started small at first. He would place small kisses on your forehead each time you met during drop-offs. That would turn to him placing lingering kisses on your cheek and begin to tease you when you would blush at his actions. Ending as of recently with you making out in his office. 

You both knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t stop. Every time you were near each other, all you wanted was to rip each other's clothes off. Of course, Brennan always stopped before anything else could happen. He always gave the same excuse over and over that he didn’t want anyone to walk in on you guys. You believed it at first, but as the months went by you felt like there was another reason Brennan wasn’t telling you.

You got your answer the night half of the rider’s quadrant, and a handful of teachers from Basgiath showed up to Aretia. The mood was chaotic, and you and Brennan decided to sneak into his office for peace and quiet. While there, Brennan expressed his stress about housing so many people in such a short amount of time. “It’s going to be ok. We will double up while the other rooms here are being renovated,” you tried to soothe Brennan’s ease while giving him a massage.

Brennan let out a low moan at your action and let you continue for a few more minutes before he turned around and kissed you. It started like every other kiss you guys have shared for the past few months until you decided to take it a step further and let your hands wander his body. “We shouldn’t go further than this,” Brennan warned against your lips when he felt you trying to undo his belt.

Anger washed over you, so you took it upon yourself to pull away, “what do you mean we shouldn’t? We’ve all but fucked already. Is it because I’m a marked one?”

Brennan’s eyes widened at your response, and tried to explain himself, “No! That’s not it. It’s just-its just that I’m so much older than you.”

You found yourself rolling your eyes at Brennan’s explanation, “Brennan, you’re only seven years older than me,” you replied.

“Seven years is a lot,” Brennan tried to reach for you, but you just swatted his hand away, “Y/n, please.”

“No,” you poked his chest, “You do not get to tell me we can’t be together because I’m too young for you, then try to comfort me seconds late. Let me know when you decide what you want because I’m sick of your mind games.” You leave before he has a chance to reply.

Brennan didn’t realize how much he needed you by his side until you weren’t around. He would see glimpses of you around, but every time you would lock eyes, you would leave the room immediately.

Even though he was the one who rejected you for being too young for him, he found himself growing jealous as he watched you getting closer to Garrick. He hated watching as you ran your hands up and down Garrick’s chest and constantly told him how big and strong he was. Garrick was being Garrick and decided to flex on purpose to get more compliments from you.

Brennan hit his breaking point when he watched you and Garrick almost kiss in the corner of the dining hall. With a stern look on his face, Brennan decided to storm over to where you were and cleared his throat loudly. “I need to speak to y/n in private,” Brennan asked.

“Is it a request or an order?” you glared at Brennan and caused Garrick to stare in shock because you’ve never spoken to anyone in that manner before.

“An order,” Brennan ordered.

You were getting ready to argue back when Garrick decided to place a kiss on your cheek and said, “Go. I have to talk to Xaden about something anyway. I’ll see you later.”

You were about to walk away when Brennan grabbed your arm and pulled you back towards him, “Stop walking away. I need to talk to you.”

“I thought you wanted to speak to me privately?” you replied. Brennan nodded before following you to his office.

Once inside, Brennan began to tell you what he’s been going through the last couple of months. Explained how jealous he was watching you getting close to Garrick and how much he regretted saying you couldn’t be together because of your age. “I’ve wanted you since the first time you came back to Aretia. I obviously couldn’t act on my feelings towards you, but you’ve been the only woman I want.”

The scowl that was on your face softened at Brennan’s words, “Bren, all I’ve ever wanted was for you to say those words to me, but what if you regret-”

“I won’t. Like I said, I regret telling you that we couldn’t be together because of our age difference,” Brennan walked over to you and cupped your face, “Let me prove to you that I’m serious about being with you.”

You wanted to say no. You’ve worked so hard to get over your feelings for Brennan, but having him tell you that he’s wanted you just as long as you have wanted him makes you give in. “If you break my heart, I’ll have Xaden, Bodhi, and Liam kick your ass. It doesn’t matter that you’re Violet’s brother; Xaden will do it in a heartbeat,” you said jokingly, but Brennan knew you were serious.

“It’s a good thing I’m not planning on breaking your heart,” Brennan leaned in and kissed you. This time, he’s not worried about someone catching you guys kissing. All he cared about was that you were his, and he had no intention of letting you slip through his fingers again.

@misskennygirl

[roosterforme]

Is It Working For You? Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Just in case you need to start at the beginning or visit an earlier chapter, check out my Masterlist!

Summary: Just a day at the beach. Bradley finally gets some of the answers he wants, and maybe a little more.

Warnings: angst, fluff, some swears, adult banter, getting more into 18+

Length: 5000 words, yes 5000 words JUST FOR YOU!

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

"What does dress for fun even mean?" you asked Maria through your open door as you tore into your closet the next morning.

"I guess a bathing suit? It's a beach day, make it sexy," she yelled back. You immediately thought of what Rooster might be wearing. Or not wearing. He'd definitely be shirtless at some point, and if you knew anything from the times you'd briefly touched him, the man was ripped. 

"Shit," you whispered as you pulled out your bathing suits. Your body was not the specimen of pure perfection that Bradley's was, but at least it seemed to get the job done. "Purple one piece or black two piece?" you asked Maria.

"Hmmm, black two piece!"

You finished getting ready and inspected yourself in the mirror. It was no string bikini, but you were definitely showing a lot of skin. And your intentionally messy ponytail would be shocking for a work day, but it seemed fine for a day at the beach. You threw on a pair of ripped jean shorts and an oversized tee shirt and headed to your car with your backpack, "I'll meet you there, slowpoke." Maria just gave you the finger in response.

The parking lot above the seaside cliffs beach was narrow, and you snagged one of the last open spots, right next to Bradley's Bronco. Your heart danced in your chest, excited and nervous to see him. You had been waxing poetic about how much you liked him while you were at the Hard Deck, but he hadn't really given you much of a response. Of course, you'd had an awful lot to drink, and hopefully he was just being gentlemanly. But would he be happy to see you today? You also really needed to talk to him about how you felt.

You realized you were going to have to climb down a lot of rocks to get to the beach below, and you wished you had worn something better than your boat shoes. Very gingerly, you took your time safely navigating the boulders all the way down toward the sand. But you slipped and nearly landed on your ass as soon as you saw Bradley. Phoenix had said all of the guys got attention from the locals, and you agreed, they were a good looking bunch. But Bradley was just ridiculously hot. He turned so his back was to you, and he was talking with Coyote and Bob. Just as you hopped off the last of the rocks onto the sand, Bradley reached behind his neck and yanked off his US Navy tee shirt, tossing it to the sand. 

Your lust ridden body was moving at a snail's pace. You didn't know where to go. Thirty feet ahead of you stood the sexiest man you'd ever seen, and you were only looking at his back for fuck's sake. Bob waved to you, and Bradley turned your way to see who was there. 

"Y/N," he called with a smile, seemingly happy to see you. 

His cut off denim shorts rode below his belly button, and he had perfect six pack abs. You could just barely see the waistband of his underwear, and you wanted to run your fingers along it. His body was literally a 6'1" fantasy. 

He ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his sunglasses. As he took a step in your direction, you felt your thighs clench together, and you almost moaned out loud. It was going to be a long day. 

----------------------------------

So you had decided to come to the beach. Bradley knew Maverick had invited a lot of the support staff for the day as well, but so far Hondo was the only one who had shown up. But now you were here, looking beyond adorable. God, he wanted to get you alone and make you explain to him exactly where he stood with you. 

"Y/N! I saved you a spot!" Phoenix called from behind Bradley. And you took off in her direction, just giving Bradley a nervous smile on your way past. He turned and watched you spread your large beach towel out near Phoenix and Halo in what he heard you all referring to as 'the girls' corner '.

Well that just wouldn't do. He gave you a couple minutes to settle in as he walked down to the water to rinse off his arms and cool down a bit. But, then he went and crashed that party. 

"Forgot my towel. Yours looks big enough to share," he announced before plopping down on your towel and lounging back on his elbows.

"Excuse you, this is the girls' corner. Get out," Phoenix told him, pointing toward the area where some of the guys were lounging about. 

"No, I like it over here," he replied as he looked up at you. 

You sighed dramatically and took your sunblock and water bottle out of your bag. "I guess you can stay, but we will be talking about you boys and all manner of other girly things."

"That's cool. I'm very in touch with my feminine side. And I also have a lot of opinions on these guys." 

Halo and Phoenix laughed, but Bradley's breath caught in his throat as you unbuttoned your shorts and shimmied them down your legs. After you neatly folded them and tucked them away, you brought your hands up along your hips and under your shirt. As you pulled it up and over your head, he bit back a groan, completely hypnotized by the expanse of your pristine skin and your cleavage. 

He'd probably made a bad decision by hijacking half of your towel, but it was too late. He was already here, and now you were applying sunblock to your legs. God, those fucking legs. He was dying to touch your skin. He watched you glance between Phoenix and him a few times before holding out the bottle in his direction. 

"Will you do my back?"

Bradley was more than willing to do so, so much to your back... your whole body, really, if he was allowed to. He quickly got himself into a seated position and patted the spot in front of him on the towel. After a second of hesitation, you carefully sat cross legged a few inches in front of him. 

The first swipe of lotion across your shoulder had you leaning back a bit, and Bradley used his big hands to gently rub it into your soft skin. As his fingers dipped underneath your bathing suit strap, he could feel you exhale sharply. He took his time, going over every inch of your back two times with his hands. He let his fingertips rub into your lower back just above your suit bottoms. As he brought his hands up to the back of your neck, he noticed you had stopped conversing with Halo and Phoenix and seemed to be enjoying this little backrub as much as he was. You hadn't pulled away from him. In fact you had been inching closer. He caressed the back of your neck softly, touching the wisps of your hair that had come loose from your ponytail. 

If any of the guys were watching, Bradley would surely be in for a ribbing about this later. And Hangman would try to make his life a living hell if he saw any of this. But you were melting into his touch, so it was worth it. Phoenix had a shit-eating grin on her face, but surely she wouldn't make fun of him too much, since she already knew what a mess Bradley was over you. 

"All done," he whispered to you as he let his fingers drift away from your skin. 

Your simple response of, "Mm, thank you, Bradley," went right to his cock. He was good and fucked at this point, so he just let himself collapse onto his back on your towel. He closed his eyes and listened in on the promised girl talk and the sounds of the ocean. Apparently Phoenix and Halo both used to have a crush on Coyote. That could be good blackmail information for later. Then you told the girls a funny story about a horrible date you went on a few years ago, and your laugh washed over him like the warm sunshine. 

It was still pretty early, and some of the aviators and others were still slowly arriving at the beach. At one point he heard Maverick announce that he had a cooler of drinks and had ordered sandwiches for everyone for lunch. He knew this was supposed to be a team building day, so he was going to try to push aside his feelings about Maverick and make the best of it. 

And it didn't hurt that you broke away from the girl talk to lay down next to him. When Bradley turned his head toward you and opened his eyes, he could tell you were already looking at him through your sunglasses. You both sized each other up for a few minutes, Bradley slowly memorizing the shape of your lips and the curve of your cheeks. Finally he reached out his index finger and tapped your hand. "Wanna talk?" he asked quietly.

"Not really, but yeah, I guess we should. I'm sorry, Bradley. I was pretty out of line on Saturday night. I... shouldn't have butted in on you when you were talking to your two new... friends."

He swallowed hard. "So you want to be just friends with me then?"

"No, that's not what I said. Oh, this is so embarrassing," you groaned and propped your head up on one elbow so you were looking right at him. It took a lot of willpower for Bradley to pry his eyes away from your chest and focus on what you were saying. "I just can't believe I did that. I-I came at you like you were mine or something, and I'm sorry. I think it was the tequila talking, but I know that's not an excuse."

"Sweetheart, I wasn't interested in those girls. I'm interested in you. And you said you liked me. You said you were attracted to me. Was that the tequila talking?" Bradley was ready to beg you for answers if needed.

Sweetheart again. You couldn't handle it. You puffed out a little laugh and a blush crept along your neck and cheeks, now refusing to meet his eyes. "No, that was the sober truth. Drunk truth, too, I guess. But I do like you, and I am attracted to you."

"Then why did you turn me down when I asked you out?" he asked, his heart pounding in his ears.

"I didn't turn you down, I told you not to ask me out at all."

"Is there really a difference?"

"No, I guess not. But I know how you guys are. And I know how I am. And I'm scared ," you whispered.

Bradley liked you so much, he couldn't imagine a world where he would do anything to you that would scare you or hurt you. He would take you out wherever you wanted to go. He would hold you against him and kiss your neck. He would listen to every single thing you had to say. He would appreciate you. He would make love to you exactly how you wanted him to. "Why are you scared? And what can I do to show you that you don't have to be scared of me?"

You raised an eyebrow at him before taking a deep breath. "When I got serious with my last boyfriend, he changed his mind part way through. And then recently when I tried to keep a casual friends with benefits thing going, the guy changed his mind and suddenly wanted to be serious with me. I'm tired of trusting the guys I shouldn't, and having others demand of me what I don't want to give them. And don't even get me started on how dating another officer could impact my career with the Navy."

That made a lot of sense to Bradley. And maybe he wasn't the only one with some issues here. "And does that leave any room at all for me?"

Your only response was your fingers tangling with his on the towel.

--------------------------------------

Your friends finally showed up hours after you had. Now you were sitting on the rocks with Cam and Maria, eating sandwiches and drinking lemonade. 

"Rooster keeps looking at you," Cam noted as he worked on his third sandwich. 

"She keeps looking at him too," Maria added.

They weren't wrong. Bradley was playing volleyball with some of the others, and you were pretty sure he had missed a few shots, because he'd been smiling at you. All you had done was gently held hands with him while you relaxed in the sun, but you'd felt a little bit lighter and fuzzy around the edges since then. 

"No comment," you said as you hopped up from the rocks and started walking toward the water.

"Seriously?! I'm practically employed as your life coach and you won't tell me what's up?" Maria called as she and Cam followed you to the water.

Then all of the guys plus Halo and Phoenix made their way loudly toward the water's edge as well, and Hangman had a football in each hand. Hondo was sorting everyone into two teams. His hand connected with your shoulder as he said, "Blue Team".  

"Huh? What's happening here?" you asked Halo as she was sorted onto the Red Team.

"It's dog-fight football. Offense and defense at the same time. You'll love it."

"How is it offense and defense at the same time?" you asked, frantically trying to find your teammates. 

"It makes sense once you start the game. I'll help you out," said Coyote, who had somehow been selected to be captain and quarterback of your Blue Team.

"Listen up!" yelled Hondo. "I'll keep score. Don't make me call penalties, because it will piss me off. Absolutely no tackling into the sand. And... everyone on the losing team does fifty pushups!" 

Your eyes bugged out, unsure if you'd done that many pushups in the last six months.You had a desk job for crying out loud, and basic training had been a decade ago.

"Maybe I'll just sit this one out," you muttered and tried to sneak away. But Bradley appeared in front of you, shaking his head. "At least let me put my shorts and shirt on over my bathing suit before we start," you pleaded, thinking if you could just get back to your towel, everyone would forget about you.

Bradley took you by the elbow and pulled you back into place, lined up next to your teammates Coyote and Bob. "You have to play, or it will be an uneven number. And I promise, there's nothing to be afraid of," he said, crossing his heart with his index finger. Then he lined up directly across from you with the Red Team and crouched down, hand planted in the wet sand, biceps bulging. You mimed his actions, causing him to burst into laughter. "Now that's intimidating. I'm a little scared, actually."

"Oh, shove it, Rooster!"

"She's already trash talking!" exclaimed Bob. "Kick his butt, Lieutenant Y/L/N!!"

Hondo blew his whistle, and everyone took off running in every direction. You saw Maria pulling Cam through the water, and Phoenix had somehow already scored a touchdown before you even moved. But there was so much chaos, you managed to distract Hangman by calling his name, and you got him to pass to you, even though you weren't on his team.

"Oh no," you gasped when you caught the ball. Then you were off, ducking and running as Payback, the intended receiver, was headed right toward you. Maverick provided some cover, and you scored for your team. 

Halo was right, you were loving this.

"Damn it, Bradshaw! She's fast! Cover her better!" Payback yelled as you jumped up and down with the ball.

"Yeah, I've got her," Bradley replied as you and he lined up across from each other once again. You stuck your tongue out at him in response to his smirk. "She's all mine." 

Now Bradley was on offense, and you had to figure out how to keep the football out of his hands.

"Shit," you gasped as he caught a beautiful pass from Hangman. Unsure of how to stop him from scoring, you jumped directly into his arms. Maybe you could get him to drop the ball?

Nope, not a chance. Bradley scooped you up one handed and hauled you along with him and the football. He adjusted his forearm under your butt, and his massive hand wrapped around your thigh, holding you against his abs. You grabbed his shoulders as he picked up speed and dodged Bob. You tried not to get turned on as his fingers gripped your leg harder. And you tried so hard to keep your hands still, but you couldn't deny yourself the feel of his shoulders then collarbone and then neck beneath your palms.

"Nice try, but that was never gonna work," Bradley whispered against your left ear. That raspy voice left you speechless as he set you gently down in the sand. The loss of contact with his warm body almost made you whine for him to pick you up again.  

Lining up across from Bradley over and over again was exhausting. Sure, the game was tiring you out, but trying to stay calm while presented with his body was mentally taxing. It was as much a form of foreplay as your banter had been. If you moved to the right, he followed you. If he tried to sneak around behind Halo, you were there. Offense or defense, it didn't matter; your hands were all over each other. Sand and water splashed and sprayed up everywhere, adding texture to his glistening, sweaty body.

Oh, how you wanted more.

When Hondo blew the whistle for the two minute warning, you were on defense. Bradley crouched down, planted his hand and slowly shook his head at you. "Come on, Y/N. Show me what you got."

The pass came right toward you both. You jumped and tried to catch it, but he was too tall. He paused and tried to gauge what you were going to do, so you went with your one and only move. You jumped directly into his arms again, wrapping your legs around his waist, and his hand came up to your thigh again. This time you tried to knock the ball out of his hands, but he just laughed and held it high above his head. You felt your chest smashing into his as you scrambled to reach for the ball. Your nipples were so hard, and you knew he could feel them. He ran for the touchdown and tossed the ball back over his shoulder.

"Come on, Baby Girl. I thought we already established that isn't gonna work," he rasped against your neck as his other hand came up to your waist with a squeeze. 

Baby Girl. Fuck, you were on the verge of combustion. His mustache was tickling your neck as he chuckled, and his grip on your body was unrelenting.

You faintly heard the Red Team cheering as they had tallied more points when he scored, but he kept his attention on you.

"You keep doing this, and a guy might think he has a chance with you."

You couldn't respond, you were too turned on. If you opened your mouth, you would definitely kiss him. If you moved your hands from his shoulders, they would end up in his messy, sandy hair. Bradley just slowly lowered your aching body back to the ground, and when your feet hit the water, he winked and told you, "I think it's time for your push-ups."

-------------------------------------

Bradley watched you struggle through your push-ups, but you never gave up. He'd come to appreciate that about you; you were smart, resourceful and determined.

And honestly, he was thankful to have a moment to cool down. Your whole body had been wrapped around him, twice. It was too much. He had been on the verge of kissing your lips and dragging your body against the front of his shorts, where he really needed you.

"Good game, Bradshaw," you told him when you were finally finished with push-ups. You were looking at him like you wanted to jump into his arms again. You shouldn't be looking at him like that, not in front of everyone.

"I really had a lot of fun, Y/N," he replied, hoping nobody else could hear how horny he sounded. 

He watched you swallow hard and then turn back toward your towel.

"God damnit," Bradley muttered as he took off in the other direction. He needed to get away from you, or soon everyone else on that beach was going to know without a doubt that he had it bad for you. They probably already did. Anyone with eyes could see the way he reacted to you every single time you were around him. He grabbed a drink out of the cooler and downed the whole thing.

"Well, that was hot," Phoenix crooned behind him. "Jeez, Rooster, you could at least take her back home before you maul her apart."

"Fuck, everyone knows now?" he asked, his voice pleading.

Phoenix just shook her head in a maybe motion. "I don't think so. I can just tell with you how big of a deal this is. The others probably just think you turned your flirt meter way up for the day."

This did not help calm his nerves at all.

"But it's going to be okay. I've got your back," she said with a saucy wink that did not bode well with him.

Bradley took a walk along the water alone, stopping to wash some of the sand from his body and hair. The sun was starting to dip lower in the afternoon heat, and there had been talk about everyone meeting up to get burgers and then going to the Hard Deck for drinks. It was nice to see everyone getting along today. Maverick was even going to buy the first round. Apparently nothing got aviators more excited than free drinks. 

He turned to see some of the group had already started the climb back up to the parking lot, but you hadn't left yet. You were taking your own solo walk along the far side of the cove, so he took his time before gathering his things together. 

"Bye. See you at the Burger Shack," Phoenix said as she rushed past Bradley, arms filled with stuff as she headed for the boulders. 

"You need help with all of that?"

"I'm doing you a favor," she called back. "You can't help me do you a favor, that's not how it works!" 

There were officially zero women in Bradley's life that made any sense or made things easier for him. 

And now it was just you and him left on the beach as the sun dipped lower. He got his shirt and shoes back on and tucked his keys and phone into his pockets as you slowly traipsed back from the water's edge. 

"Wanna walk up with me?" he asked as you picked up your towel. 

"Where's all my stuff?" you asked, looking around frantically. "I thought my bag was under my towel. My teal backpack had everything in it. My phone and keys and everything."

Bradley glanced around at nothing but empty sand. "I'll bet someone grabbed it by accident. Here, call your phone." He unlocked his and handed it to you as he realized who the culprit most certainly was. 

------------------------------------

Your phone rang and rang and rang. After the third try, you realized nobody was going to answer it. Now you were so mad you'd never taken the time to set up that remote phone tracker app. 

"It's probably with someone at the Burger Shack," Bradley reassured you, shoving his phone back in his pocket. "I can give you a ride there, we can get your bag, and then I'll bring you back to get your car."

You looked up at him and laughed, pushing your sunglasses to the top of your head. "Bradley, I don't have anything except my towel. I don't even have shoes, and it will take me all night to climb up the rocks with bare feet." 

Bradley looked down at your feet as you wiggled your painted toes around. "I can carry you."

"I can't ask you to do that!"

"Then don't ask, just get on," he said, gesturing for you to jump on for a piggyback ride.

You hesitated for a moment, but then conceded, draping your towel around your shoulders. The man had already carried you up to your apartment and that hadn't killed him. "Okay..." you mumbled as he crouched down a little and you hopped up onto his back. You squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck as he grabbed your thighs with both large hands and hoisted you a little higher.

"You okay back there?" he asked, and you could hear a smile in his voice. Of course you were okay, his biceps were rubbing against your sides.

"As long as you are." But he was already starting up the rocks, taking his time to make sure he had good footing. You held on a little tighter and rested your chin on his left shoulder, anxious to see where he was going to step next. He felt so strong, his back pressed against your front. And he smelled so good, you wanted to bury your nose against his warm skin. The thin layers of fabric between you both were doing nothing to keep the butterflies at bay. "I honestly don't know how you are doing this. I almost fell on my ass walking down here earlier!"

Bradley chuckled. "You might be surprised by the things I would be willing to do for a chance to carry a cute girl around."

You could feel yourself blushing hard as your legs rubbed along the soft cotton tee covering his back as he moved. "Will you let me buy you a burger later?" you asked.

"No."

"How about a beer at the Hard Deck?"

"No."

"Well then, what will you let me do?" you whispered in his ear, almost screaming when he audibly groaned in reply.

"There's only one thing I want."

"Oh really? What's that?" 

"I want you to admit that you can't get enough of me, and that's why you jumped on me twice during football." He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye behind his sunglasses with a grin.

You were quiet for a moment as he continued the journey upwards, finally nearing the top.

"Okay, first of all, how am I supposed to defend against someone roughly twice my size? It should have been Bob playing against you! Second, that was my only move, Bradshaw. Other than flinging myself at you like a flying squirrel and hoping for the best, there was no better option. And third...."

"Yes, go on..." he teased as you two reached the top of the hill, the beach now far below you. You were coming up quickly to the Bronco as Bradley carried you in that direction. 

"Well, third, yeah... you know. Come on, you know you look good, Rooster." 

"Not as good as you, Sweetheart," he rasped as he let go of your leg with his right hand and quickly unlocked the passenger door. He pulled it open and gently bent to set you down on the passenger seat. You slid into place and tossed your towel to the floor as he turned to face you. "Not as good as you."

You needed to feel him against you again. It was the only pressing thing now, your missing backpack totally forgotten. Bradley leaned toward you and wrapped the seat belt around your bare torso, his fingers gently grazing your left side as he clicked it into place. Before he could remove his hand, you grabbed it with your left one. You reached up with your right hand, removed his sunglasses and tossed them onto the driver's seat, revealing a look of longing in his eyes. Then you let your fingertips trail along the scars on his cheek. His eyes closed for a few beats as you pushed your fingers up over his ear and into his hair. His eyes opened again, pleading with you as you played with his messy hair, your fingers moving to the back of his neck. 

You pulled him closer and closer until you pressed your lips against his. You should have been embarrassed by the broken sigh that escaped you, but his hands were both immediately on your waist, and you were gone. He drew little circles on your skin with his thumbs as he explored your lips gently with his mouth, his mustache tickling your upper lip in the most delicious way.

You kissed and nibbled on his lips, now using both hands to pull him in tighter to you. Your nose bumped his as you changed positions slightly, leaning up to feel the pressure of your chest against his. With a moan, he used his mouth to part your lips, and you could feel the tip of his tongue against yours. 

He tasted so good and so warm. Your fingers dipped into the collar of his shirt as you teased and tasted each other over and over. When his lips danced over your chin and along your jaw, you really dug your hands into his hair. You had to squeeze your legs together to stop from crying out as his mouth connected with your neck, nipping just below your ear. 

"Baby Girl," he whispered and you almost lost yourself completely. Then his phone rang loudly causing you to jump back an inch. 

You looked at each other, panting slightly as he checked who was calling.

He cleared his throat a few times before saying, "I think someone is calling back from your phone."

----------------------

I can't thank you enough for reading along!

Part 6

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[jinnify]

irreplaceable. — park sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x idol!reader genre: angst? warnings: none. it just hurts a lil to read n imagine word count: seven hundred sixty-nine now playing: glimpse of us by joji extended note at the bottom.

How could he explain that whenever you’d hang up the phone, he’d lay in bed for hours, contemplating whether he should call her? How he’d stay up for days on end writing songs for her to hear on the radio and think of him? Every time you’d lay your head on his chest he imagined it was her instead, making his heart thump faster than it ever had in the months he had been your boyfriend. Sunghoon would be lying if he said he had ever tried his hardest to fall in love with you. Since the beginning, you had only been a filler for her. Your hair. Your eyes. Even your lips were the same shade as hers, but he could never feel the same love he felt for her. You had been nothing but a replacement.

You had fallen head over heels for your coworker-turned-boyfriend. Consistently visiting his groups’ practice sessions or music program promotions to leave some food for them, even when in the middle of your own groups’ promotions. You wished you could say that Sunghoon did the same for you, but you knew you’d never receive that affection you so desperately craved from him. It hadn’t taken you long to figure out that Sunghoon didn’t want you, not even as a friend. You had caught many of the longing looks he reserved for her, feeling your heart shrivel up and die each time he did it. It was easy to ignore at first. You took it as a look of admiration for the idol on the television screen, going as far as even pointing out how it looked like Sunghoon looked up to the group once. The sympathetic cringe that crossed the rest of his group's faces confused you, along with the alarmed look on Sunghoon’s face but you had been all too ignorant of Sunghoon’s feelings then.

Sunghoon had started to feel guilty over his “complicated feelings,” as he put it. He knew he was unworthy of you - of your love. It wasn’t fair to you to pour your entire self into a relationship where the other half wasn’t even trying. He had noticed your distancing yourself lately. There were fewer calls and even fewer dates than there already were. He had gotten word from his members that you had gone abroad for promotions, confusedly pointing out that you hadn’t said a word to him about your comeback. There was a pit that had formed in his stomach. Was there a chance you figured it out? That you had finally given up on the abysmal relationship he had been the one to ask you to be a part of? He couldn’t help but feel the dread build up in his chest, scared for what was to come when you arrived back in Seoul.

It had been a few weeks since you had touched down in Korea without a word from Sunghoon. It hurt to know how insignificant you had been to him, but it had been the final push. You hadn’t made up your mind just yet on how you’d do this, but you had already spent the entirety of your overseas promotions bawling your eyes out and it hadn’t been hard for fans to notice your change in demeanor. You had to end this quickly if you didn’t want your manager to talk to you. You took your phone, quickly scrolling through your contacts pressing on Sunghoon’s. ‘Baby,’ reflected onto your irises in bold, sneering at you for ever having called Sunghoon that word as if he were ever truly yours.

“I got your text. Do you need someth-?” “I want to break up with you.” You hadn’t even let him get his words out before you seemingly ripped the bandaid off. He watched as you silently trembled in place, avoiding his eyes all that you could. Sunghoon quickly digested your words, trying to find his own to properly apologize to you for what he had done. “I-I have to go now. I don’t wanna get in trouble with my manager. Later, Sunghoon.” Sunghoon felt an all too familiar prickle behind his eyes as he watched you walk away, leaving him in some secluded park, away from any prying eyes. His throat had closed itself off in an effort not to cry, prohibiting him from saying anything he had to tell you. He had no right to cry and he knew it, instead, he kicked a stray rock as he stuck his hands in his pockets, walking back to his manager who had silently waited on him, ready to take him home.

EXTENDED NOTE. joji you crazy bastard, you'll rue the day you released glimpse of us. look at what you've done to me.

[hockeyboysimagines]

Hello! I saw you're taking requests. Could you please write swayman x Reader with an angsty drabble using prompt

14."It's not what you think it is."?

Thank you!!!

My first Sway request! Thanks Nonny!

Enjoy🤍

He was definitely cheating.

You swiped at a tear and leaned back on your bed.

At first you gaslit yourself into thinking it was your paranoia talking. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d jumped to assumptions and ruined a good thing so you tried to control it. You talked yourself down every time you got suspicious and insisted to your brain you were looking at things the wrong way.

In the past, a complete meltdown and a fight would have been the first thing to happen. But those guys had been different. You wanted to be careful with Jeremy so you kept it to yourself, and for a while it had worked. But your resolve was crumbling and cracking a little bit each day.

The signs were all there.

In the last few months he’d taken a number of phone calls that he left the room for. At first you thought maybe it was just a private conversation. But by now the private conversations had started to happen sometimes twice a day.

Random changing and cancelling of plans. Once or twice wasn’t enough to raise any alarms. Things happened right?

But the final straw was when you were sitting in your favorite dress waiting for him only for him to call and try and move your date to later on, and then deciding to cancel it all together.

And then there was the email you saw. Purely an accident. You might have been paranoid but you weren’t intrusive enough to search through his phone. But when it dinged while he was showering you leaned to look at the screen and saw an email from someone named Sarah you wanted to rip the curtain open and confront him right there.

But what really sent you over the edge was the phone call. This time you’d been snooping but you wish you hadn’t because you investigated so hard you hurt your own feelings. You’d let yourself into his apartment unannounced which had never been a problem, and you had a key for that exact thing and he mustn’t have heard you. You however could hear him on the phone in his room so you quietly made you way and caught the end of a phone call you were probably not supposed to hear.

“She’s gonna be here soon so I can’t talk long.”

You felt your heart slide into your stomach as whoever it was on the other line answered and he responded “No she has no idea, and I wanna keep it that way for now at least. She’ll find out eventually and then we’ll go from there.”

A tear ran down your cheek as he continued “No I can’t do that time. If I cancel plans with her again she’ll start to get suspicious, and then everything will get all messed up. How about Friday? She works in the afternoon so I’ll be free. Sound good? Okay great. See you soon. Bye.” He hung up and tossed down the phone.

Now you’d had enough. With a loud bang you threw open the door so hard it hit the wall and he jumped, whipping around.

“What the f-“

“Free for what?”

He frowned “What?”

“Free. For. WHAT?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

You scoffed and pointed at the phone “What are you free for while I work in the afternoon? Some girl? Hmm?”

His went slack jawed and held up his hands “No I-“

“Save it. I KNEW it. I knew you were cheating on me. I’ve known for a long time, so spare me the denial I don’t want to hear it. Just tell me the truth.”

He shook his head and reached for you but you took a step back “It's not what you think it is."

“Oh yeah? Then explain to me what it is. You have 5 seconds.”

He loved to his beside table and opened the door, pulling a blue folder from it and sat down on the bed patting the space next to him “Come here.” He opened it and slid it to you “I’m not cheating on you, I’m doing this.” You looked at him confused as he continued “A vacation. A trip this summer for your birthday.”

You felt so dumb as you looked at the contents of the folder. Plane tickets, passport information, room number and excursion details. A surprise vacation that looked like he’d been working on for a while. You felt terrible.

“Jeremy I-I’m so sorry.”

Be he was smiling “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry for making you feel that way, I just wanted it to be a surprise is all. Guess I’m not very good at keeping secrets huh?”

“I shouldn’t have accused you.” He looked at your lap but he reached under your chin to pull up your head and look you in the eyes “It’s okay really. But next time just talk to me about it okay? I would never cheat on you. Now.” He handed you the booklet with a smile “Pick some things for us to do.”

[bri-sonat]

Kisses Of Fire

Follow-up to Life Eternal

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Fem!Knight!Reader

Warnings: NSFW!! Major GoT spoilers, descriptions of violence & blood, angst, SMUTTY SMUT, oral sex, praise kink, semi-public sex, a tiny bit of angst again, fluff.

A/N: so as i was writing this i realized i totally made up my own timeline, oopsie, so i should clarify. the first two fics (enjoy the silence & life eternal) took place post the long night and pre the end. this fic catches up to that. this is (by my own opinion and admission) not my best work, but i've been working on it for so long and it's been approved for public reading, so, here it is. the finale. the end of our two beloved knights' love story. blah blah blah english is not my first language (obligatory warning). i hope the ending is satisfactory to all, enjoy!

big thanks to my dear bestie aron (@queerofalltrades) for reading through it and giving it the stamp of approval, and for helping me with the idea for this fic, without them, this fic wouldn't exist. and spouse heather (@pastanest) for helping me compact complicated GoT plot and for explaining more GoT customs to me.

It had been five months since that fateful night by the stables when your love had screamed after you with all her might with tears in her eyes. 

That had also been the last time she had communicated with you at all. 

You had sent her ravens, every Sunday for the past months, concluding your week, talking about your father's passing, and your mother. No message was ever sent back but your own, unopened and unread. Despite this you kept sending them, to keep your oath and to let her know you thought about her, every single day. 

In your messages to her, you often mentioned things you saw during your day that reminded you of her. Like the bright blue sky, equally as bright as her eyes and smile. The setting sun, just as beautiful and breathtaking as her. Any time you saw something dark blue, much reminding you of the unique armor she always donned. 

These small details were added for her to know that you hadn’t forgotten her and that she was always on your mind; had she read them, she would’ve been made aware of this fact. 

You couldn’t blame her for ignoring your messages. She was upset that you left, that you didn’t listen to her cries. That you had made her fall in love, and that you ripped her heart out of her chest. 

What you couldn’t understand, however, was her stubbornness, she knew you had no choice. In fact, she would’ve done the same had her father gotten ill, considering she’s his only heir. The only difference was she would’ve let you come with her; she would’ve begged you to. 

She would have hired you as her main bodyguard, as her master-at-arms, as Commander of her troops, she would have hired you as anything if it meant always having you at her side. Even as she ruled over Tarth. 

That was the difference between her and you, she had obligations and could not join you, even when she desperately wanted to, you, however, could join her. You weren’t sworn to anyone but your family, Brienne, and the Gods, there was work for knights everywhere, you could go wherever you wished. 

She went where her loyalties led her, and her loyalties always led her to the daughters of Lady Catelyn Stark. Despite the Lady’s murder at the red wedding years prior, the honorable blonde kept serving the daughters, because death did not release her from her vows. You admired her extreme loyalty and virtue, there weren’t many people like her left in the world you lived in, everyone was either greedy, monsters, liars, or all three. 

Your unopened scrolls started to pile up on your desk and you wondered how long she would keep this up. Your patience only lasted for so long and you couldn’t deny the pang of hurt that surged through you and your heart when yet another message was returned, unread. After a while, you started to wonder if she had even received your ravens at all. 

About one month after you had arrived at your family’s residence in Lemonwood, your father passed due to his illness, leaving you and your mother as the attendees of the family business. 

The four months that passed after that were spent keeping up the trade, meeting shipments at Planky Town as they came in from the Westerosi coast and the Free Cities of Essos, comforting your mother, and sending unrequited ravens to Brienne. 

To honor your duties as a knight, you offered your help to the Martell family, having history with them that went all the way back to your grandfather's childhood. The only living one of them called for you every now and then for advice, or just to help patrol around Sunspear. 

You were a familiar face for most, having spent a lot of time in the city growing up, and you recognized some people as well, stopping to have a chat with some; and others, you just gave a polite nod to considering where you knew them from. 

Brienne was a constant on your mind, even when you received the news one week after your arrival of Kings Landing crumbling, the deaths of Jaime and Cersei Lannister, and Jon Snow assassinating Daenerys Targaryen. 

A few weeks after the fall of the capital and the deaths, Prince Martell had to leave for unstated business in Kings Landing. He had asked you to look over things while he was away and you accepted, not inquiring what said business was about. 

He had returned about a week later and stated that Bran the Broken had taken the now melted Iron Throne and that The North had been established as an independent kingdom with Sansa as its ruler. The mention of her name brought forth memories of the last time you had spoken to her, recollections of Brienne, and eventually evocations of her by the stables. 

You had no news of your knight; you did not even know if she was alive. 

You desperately wanted to ask Prince Martell about Brienne. Just a simple, ‘My Lord, was there a tall blonde by Sansa Starks’ side?’ would have been adequate, but you hadn’t dared to verbalize the query in case the answer was no. If the answer was no, it meant that she was no longer alive, because your knight was always by the redhead's side as her sworn sword. 

Part of you hoped that if she had met her untimely death, you’d be notified; but had to come to terms with that there would be no reason for anyone to think of doing so. 

Around the same time of Prince Martell's return from Kings Landing, your raven returned, however, something was different this time. The bird carried both your scroll and another. You had hoped it was from Brienne, disappointment settled in when you saw that it wasn’t. 

The words on the Stark stationary were very few, only there to convey the brief piece of information necessary. Despite the lack of long and many sentences, the small amount was exactly what you needed to hear. 

“Brienne no longer resides in Winterfell. She has relocated to the White Sword Tower in Kings Landing. – Sansa Stark.”

She was alive. A flood of relief washed over you but was quickly replaced by sadness and confusion. She was alive but ignored your messages; and she was in the King's Guard, of course. 

You read the message again and detected that Brienne's and Sansa’s titles were missing in the message, meaning she had forsaken professionalism. This led you to the conclusion that she somehow knew about you and your knight's infatuation with each other. It gave you a sense of calmness, knowing that you would have been notified had she perished. 

It then broke your heart, realizing that the blonde couldn’t let go of her pride for one second to personally let you know of her relocating, she had to have someone else do it for her. You would have expected her to tell you so herself but apparently, that was too highly anticipated of you, so silly of you to think that she could be bothered to tell you personally, how unreasonable, how idiotic. 

There were whispers of a new Lord Commander, but no one knew who they were, only that the King's Guard now only consisted of two knights. You knew that Brienne was one of the members, considering her new residency but still had no idea who the Commander could be considering they had no distinguishing marks to tell them apart from the rest of the guard. 

So, until it was confirmed who had filled the position, it was unknown information and you made it a habit to spike your ears whenever you heard people mention ‘Lord Commander’ in conversation, hoping to learn what everyone was curious to know. 

——— 

Brienne’s life had been quite non-identical. She had spent the entire week after your departure mourning you. She noticed your absence in everything: her bed, her heart, breakfast, training, dinner, and the void was particularly draining after her patrols when your usual midnight meetings would occur. She had gotten used to your touch, now the only thing she felt was the cold hand of complete loneliness. 

During your stay, Brienne's squire, Podrick, had noticed the taller knight's infatuation with you and stayed away, giving you the space to speak uninhibitedly. You had not met him but had heard such wonderful stories of their adventures together. He instead lurked in the background, training with your love when you had split off during the day. 

With you gone, he had proven to be a comforting presence for Brienne, but the hole left inside of her was still gaping, a void that only you could seal. She trained him whenever she had free time, which was more often with you not there, and he grew stronger and stronger for each day that passed. 

Sometime after the Battle of Kings Landing, Brienne traveled to the Dragonpit to represent Tarth in the trial of Tyrion Lannister. From what she had been told by Sansa whose opinion she valued most amongst those present at the trial, Daenerys had gone against his advice, he had then denounced himself as her Hand, resulting in imprisonment for his defiance. 

Jon Snow, who Brienne had come to conclude was a good man after the time spent with him at Sansa's side, had then had a conversation with Tyrion within the cell he was held in, before murdering Daenerys.  

During the trial, Brienne sat and listened to Tyrion as he advised the gathered council to elect a new King to decide his fate. Expressing his reasoning, he suggested Brandon Stark. At this, the blonde knight assented, as did everyone else. 

Brandon Stark then met Sansa’s demand for the North to once again become its own sovereign kingdom, as it was for thousands of years.  

Tyrion’s punishment, as decided by King Bran, was to reclaim his position as Hand to the monarch and amend his previous mistakes in the same position, under previous rulers, for the rest of his life. Though the Lannister strongly opposed this idea, that only made the punishment more just, as, to him, it was not the reward that many would take the position to be. 

However, the minute Brienne had assented by saying ‘aye,’ she was ashamed to admit how little of her attention she devoted to the trial due to her mind being occupied by thoughts of you, but alas, that was her fate. She was well aware of the people around her and what decisions were made but she couldn’t have cared less. 

She had acknowledged your ravens, she just didn’t have the strength to open them, to read about your life without her. She knew she was being unreasonable, and she chastised herself for it. Despite how well aware she was of her unwarranted and irrational behavior, she ignored them, but you just kept sending them and it got harder and harder for Brienne to just leave the inviting scrolls; however, she knew it would only hurt her more to read about your Dorne adventures. 

In hindsight, however, those messages would’ve been something much more joy-inducing to have of yours, compared to the only thing she had in her possession. 

After the trial, Bran had approached Brienne, and offered her the position of Lord Commander in his Kings Guard, he was a very blunt man, the King, and she had been a bit surprised with just how candid he was. She had managed to hide her initial reaction and had humbly accepted his offer. Sworn the oath at the Stark’s request and stated that her squire is yet to be knighted and that she would do so with haste. 

Podrick was ready and had been for a while, but she was called to Kings Landing for the trial before she had the opportunity to knight him. This worked out in his favor however, considering being knighted by someone from the King's Guard and the Lord Commander of it, was seen as prestigious; and would earn him substantially more respect than if she would’ve knighted him when she was still a knight herself. 

The King had nodded at her declaration, “I will ask Sansa to have someone pack up and send your belongings here. Tell your squire to come see me as soon as he is a knight. In the meantime, I believe we have some measurements to get for your new armor.” 

“Your Grace, there is no need for that. I have no belongings in Winterfell I’d like to keep. I brought everything important with me.”  

“Are you sure, Lord Brienne?” 

“Yes, Sire.” 

“Very well. Now, come with me.” 

Podrick, who had followed Brienne from Winterfell to Kings Landing, had been approached by the taller knight the day after the trial. 

He had a puzzled expression on his face as he watched her and she knew he had a question to ask, she would have preferred if he had kept his mouth shut about it but had allowed him to ask it anyways; regretting it as soon as he spoke. 

“Lord Commander?” Hesitant in his tone, he had looked up apologetically at Brienne with the hope that she wouldn’t scold him for granting his inquisitiveness to take over. 

“Yes, Podrick?” She stared down at him and she could almost see the gears that had been turning in his head; looking for the most well-mannered way to phrase the words that followed. 

“I apologize for what I am about to ask but I am afraid curiosity has gotten the best of me. Whatever happened with the knight from Dorne?” She released a sigh, there it was. 

“I do not wish to speak of them, not because there is anger but because there’s too much pain.” Brienne had remained stoic in her answer and in her facial expressions, but her insides had been bleeding, almost like she had been impaled by a sword and left to die, bathing in a pool of her own blood. 

That was the first and only time she and Podrick ever spoke about your departure. The shorter man had opened his mouth to say something else but was quickly interjected by Brienne. “Come along Podrick. There’s something we need to do.” 

“Yes, My Lord.” 

As they walked through the ruins of Kings Landing, Brienne wondered if she should’ve been the one to send a raven to inform you of her move to another kingdom, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do so. 

She had instead asked Sansa if she would send one, to which she agreed. The redhead had seen the affection you held for each other and knew that there was more to your seemingly professional relationship. Brienne hadn’t known the reason for the Stark’s compliance but was grateful for it either way. 

All the memories that had been created in Winterfell were painful for Brienne and she found it almost relieving that she didn’t have to return, there was too much sadness there. She did not know when you would return to her, even if it had only been around one month since you had left, so leaving all the woeful memories behind was easier than she had thought. 

The happier ones were harder though, the memories in the courtyard, her room, the mess hall, the bathhouse, your room. The room where she had found the letter that changed everything. 

She had kept the note. It was now stained with dried tears, the paper damaged by the salty drops; ink smudged in various places. She kept it somewhere safe, out of sight from wandering eyes but close by. 

It was read every single night with tears in her eyes before she went to sleep, desperately trying to remember what your voice sounded like, to no avail. 

She had brought it with her to Kings Landing for the trial, not wanting to leave without it. Reading through your words had become routine, and it had gotten to the point where she could not sleep if she did not read your letter before bed. It was one of the first personal items to take its home in her new living quarters.  

Brienne and Podrick had walked in silence as he took in the crumbled kingdom. The fire had stopped but the damage was still apparent. Blackened remains of destroyed buildings and dried blood on the ground. 

The charred corpses had been moved the day before, given a proper burial in unmarked graves, at Tyrion’s request. To have it done within a day, the blue-eyed knight had assisted; her strong arms able to carry double the weight. 

It had been a grisly sight, and even Brienne, who had seen plenty of violence in her days, had felt a hint of nausea and sorrow go through her at the sight of the destruction. The smell hadn’t made it any better. 

The two had turned a corner and Brienne entered a large building that surprisingly hadn’t been affected by the attack, far enough away from the dragon's path of destruction. The room had been dimmed, rays of sun coming in from the small windows lining the walls; standing along it was Tyrion, his small form lurking in the darkness. 

The tall knight stopped abruptly in the middle of the room, Podrick had done the same a couple of feet behind her to avoid crashing into Brienne’s back. 

“Tyrion is here to bear witness. I told him that there was no need, but he insisted.” Her voice had been flat, stern. She had turned on her heels, faced him, and pulled out her sword from its sheath, the metal scraping against metal had echoed, the sound bouncing between the bare walls. 

“Kneel, Podrick Payne.” He had gotten down on one knee in front of Brienne, gazing up at her, and she had proceeded to lay her sword on his left shoulder, her eyes boring into his. “In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave.” 

She had shifted the metal of her blade to his right shoulder, carefully placing it down, mindful of the sharpness of the sword's edge. “In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just.” 

She had switched shoulders again, the metal of the sword gliding in the air. “In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent.” She placed her sword back into her scabbard before she had stated her last words, “Arise, Podrick Payne, a knight of the Six Kingdoms.” 

One month after your departure, Brienne had knighted Podrick. After this, she and Tyrion took him to see Bran, just as he had requested one day prior. The King had asked him to prove his fighting skills, suggesting he spar against his teacher, “Lord Brienne has trained you and I have no doubts in her skill, I am sure you are more than qualified. It is just a formality. I’m sure you understand, Ser Podrick.” 

“Of course, your Grace.” 

They had stepped out into a large somewhat empty clearing to give the two knights the space they required, and Podrick had proved his swordsmanship by fighting the blonde, King Bran being more than satisfied after seeing him hold his own against Brienne’s powerful blows. 

“That’s quite enough. I can tell Lord Brienne would floor you if we kept going and I need you both in prime health. Approach and kneel.” 

Podrick, who had read every book the word ‘knight’ was mentioned in and who had Brienne teach him everything she knew, had gotten down on one knee, and sworn the oath of the King's Guard, just like the tall woman had the day before. 

“I swear to ward the King with all my strength, and give my blood for his. I shall take no wife, hold on lands, father no children. I shall guard his secrets, obey his commands, ride at his side, and defend his name and honor.” 

“Arise.” 

With this, Podrick had been integrated into the King's Guard and Tyrion had taken him away for measurements. Brienne had asked Bran what she was to do until the resources for reparations arrived, and he had in turn told her to assess the damage done to the armory, and see if anything needed to be replaced. And to update the Book of Brothers: to complete Jaime’s entry, and add her own. She had done so with haste. 

Two weeks later, the supplies arrived in Kings Landing which was still in ruins. She, together with Tyrion, had met them at the Gate of the Gods, which was a large hole in a wall after the dragon attack, clad in her new shiny gold armor with extensive white enameling and a white cloak draped over her tall form. 

She had come to stand by Tyrion’s side to discuss something, but he had asked her to stay when she moved to leave his side, it was mostly so she could act as a waypoint, of sorts, for the convoy. It was also so he could analyze her up close. 

The small council had held a meeting and discussed what would come next, the reparations of the kingdom had been a unanimous agreement. They had wanted to rebuild the brothels first, but Brienne had quickly expressed her disapproval at the thought of prioritizing them over the rebuilds of the royal fleet, which clearly took precedence due to the lack of ships following the war. 

The four months that followed after the arrival of the supplies were filled with Brienne overlooking some of the construction whenever she didn’t have anything else to do and performing her Lord Commander duties; whatever they ended up being, they varied from larger decisions to smaller ones. 

Some days she just spent her hours in the armory, polishing and sharpening every sword; and some she spent in the White Sword Tower, either re-reading previous entries in the Book of Brothers or residing in her quarters. 

She was so busy with her new duties that she did not have the time to respond to your ravens, even if she could gather the emotional strength to do so. 

Five months after your separation, Bran had requested her attention, sending Tyrion to collect her. 

He had found her in the armory taking inventory of the same gear she had checked the day before. When asked, she told everyone it was to ‘make sure no one stole anything’ but it was really to keep her mind occupied with something other than you who plagued her mind day in and day out, even in her slumber. 

“The King wishes to speak with you, Lord Brienne.” Tyrion interrupted her almost obsessive counting, arriving when she had finished sharpening the last sword. He stood in the doorway as he watched her get up from the stool she was sitting on, put away the sword she was holding, and walk towards him. 

“Of course, Lord Hand. Lead the way.” 

The walk was quiet, for the most part. Brienne was content with the silence, Tyrion; not so much. 

“Forgive me for being informal, Lord Commander, but; what is the matter with you?” The question staggered Brienne, her entire being stalling for one second, too stunned to move, before she continued her prior movements, resuming her stroll by the shorter man's side. 

“Pardon?” She knew exactly what he was referring to. Her behavior had been strange, to say the least. Erratically counting and whetting, staring off into space, and getting lost in her own thoughts. Brienne had always been a bit unusual and turned in towards herself, but it had been even more so these last couple of months. 

“Brienne. I can promise you that no one is stealing weapons from the armory during the night in peacetime. The armory which, need I remind you, is locked up with you as the key holder. So, what the hell is your issue?” Tyrion had stopped right outside the building Bran was currently in, glaring up at Brienne with furrowed brows and caring eyes. 

“I-” she released an elongated sigh, “I do not wish to talk about it. What does the King need to speak to me about?” Switching the subject to the reason she was standing there with him in the first place, hoping to remove herself from the theme she wasn’t entirely comfortable conversing with Tyrion about. 

The shorter man let out a sigh, admitting defeat, knowing he wasn’t getting anything out of her. “I do not know. He did not tell me.”  

“Very well.” With this, Brienne pushed past the shorter man who was left standing in place, annoyed at the taller woman’s stubbornness, which seemed to be an ongoing theme nowadays. 

Her white cloak flowed behind her as she navigated her way through the corridors, her steps echoing in the empty hallways. 

“Lord Brienne!” Bran called her name as she entered the room he was residing in, stopping what he had been doing before she arrived, “I’m glad you’re here. I have something to ask of you.”  

The blonde knight quickly kneeled before him and he just as quickly ushered her up to her feet, claiming there was no need for such formalities. Brienne didn’t quite understand why but complied either way. “Sire, what can I do for you?” 

“I need you and Ser Podrick to escort a shipment from Planky Town. You will travel there by ship, collect the shipment, and bring it back. I’ve already spoken to Davos, and he has given you temporary command of one of his ships. It’s an incredibly rare material and I need my best men on it. I know it’s different from your usual duties but treat this mission the way you would any other.” 

The thought process that went through Brienne's head after Bran had started speaking was: Planky Town – Dorne – you. There was a hurricane of emotions whirling around inside of her that destroyed anything in its path, and as in every hurricane, the eye was quiet, which allowed her to process the whirlwind. 

She was ecstatic at the opportunity to finally visit Dorne, and maybe, if the Gods were good, cross paths with you. She was also guilty and terrified at the thought of meeting you again. Running into you after ignoring your messages for months would surely prove to be an unpleasant experience. You’d surely be angry, disappointed, and upset; all at her. But at least she would get to see you, even if it was with you staring daggers her way. 

Her mind was racing, running faster than it ever had and Brienne couldn’t keep up. Until a noise ripped her out of her thoughts, permitting her to catch up to her sprinting brain. The door behind her opened and closed, signaling that someone else had entered the room. This was when she realized she had been standing still and in silence for far too long, Bran looking at her with an unreadable expression as he waited for her response. 

“Yes. Of course, Your Grace. When do we depart?” Brienne remained as professional and stoic as usual, even when her mind was anything but. She had zoned out again, become lost in her own thoughts like a scared little girl getting lost in the woods with no way out. 

“Tomorrow at sunrise. Be at the docks by then.” 

“Yes. Anything else?” 

“No. You are dismissed, Lord Brienne.” After vocalizing the command, Bran looked away from the Lord Commander and went back to his previous activity. Whatever that was hadn’t been observed by the blue-eyed knight, and she simply couldn’t be bothered to find out. 

She bowed before taking her exit, passing Tyrion as she left the room. He looked at her warm-heartedly, giving her the smallest of smiles and a small nod which she didn’t reciprocate, a scowl painted on her lips. 

If she wasn’t so focused on keeping the hurricane inside of her in check, and on preventing any tells to leak out of her hardened exterior onto her face, she would have given him the same back. Instead, she just kept her mind set on maintaining a straight face. 

The second the heavy door closed behind her, she let the stone face fall, and an intrigued smile replaced her former frown. Her booted footsteps echoed in the barren hallways as she went back the way she came, her long white cloak floating behind her. 

“Dorne, huh?”  

——— 

You rolled up what must have been the twentieth message for Brienne, before strapping the scroll to your raven. It was a warm day in Lemonwood, as it was every day in Dorne, the Summer Sea waves hitting against the cliff side breaking the pleasant silence of the early Sunday morning. 

Your raven, Bartholomew (actually named Branoc by your parents, but you thought that was a little bit boring), was sent on its way and you sat at your desk, watching the bird as it flapped its coal-black wings, carrying yet another message for your love. 

The usual distant bustling noise of Planky Town had yet to begin, it was still too early but you and your mother had a shipment to meet. No rest for the traders. 

Your family had since your great-great-great grandfather been a part of a large trading company, landing you as one of the wealthier families in Westeros.  

The business had been passed through generations and now it had landed on your mother's lap. You were delighted to assist her for however long she needed you but the longing and yearning for Brienne’s touch was getting to be too much. You needed to get back to her. 

Sighing, you put your stationary, ink, and quill away, before rising from your seated position at your desk. The armor you had worn in Winterfell had been swapped out for a more heat friendly one. Specially crafted to allow breathing and protection, the Dornish colors decorate the leather gear. 

It rested on the stand in your room, the fur coat and cold-resistant steel armor gathering dust in one of your closets. You hadn’t laid eyes on either of the items since you disregarded them five months ago. 

The trip here had been a long one, riding along Kings Road before turning onto Rivers Road; before finally arriving in Lannisport just west of Riverrun. Once there, you were able to hop on one of your family’s trading ships, taking you back to Planky Town. 

The only comfortable way to Dorne when traveling from another kingdom, was by ship. The terrain and road through the Red Mountains were unforgiving and extremely hard to traverse and there was no way you were putting yourself through that. The ride through the barren desert after the mountains wasn’t all that inviting either. 

The difference in climate had hit you right away, the searing sun of Dorne not quite the same as the biting chill of The North. Your fur coat had been discarded soon after passing The Trident and turning onto the road that led you to your destination. It rained moderately in the Riverlands, therefore, you had to take it off to insure its dryness.  

When it started raining, like you had expected it to do, you had to take a break, seeking shelter under the protecting crowns of the trees. The fur coat proved quite useful as an extra blanket during the cool nights, and you pretended that it was the warm embrace of Brienne enveloping you instead of the cloak. 

After you had boarded the ship in Lannisport, you were able to take off your armor for the first time in days, letting the cool breeze of the sea wash over you. The familiar salty smell of the ocean reminding you of your childhood. 

The sound of knocking on your door pulled you out of your reminiscent state. Quickly pulling yourself to the present, you took large strides toward your door and opened it in a swift and controlled motion. 

You were met with the weary and tired eyes of your mother, she hadn’t slept well since the passing of your father, and you couldn’t blame her, neither had you. 

The sleeplessness was a combination of the grief from losing your father and the loss of Brienne's warmth. You had slept in her arms only once, but that singular time was enough to have your body aching for more affection from the tall blonde woman. 

Most of this you wrote about in your messages. The messages she couldn’t even be bothered to open because if she did, she would realize you missed her so. That you would leave as soon as you weren’t needed, and that you would return to her arms as fast as humanly possible. 

“Good morning, Mother.” Your voice was softer than usual, it always was around your mother nowadays, scared that any other tone would disrupt the mourning process she had begun. 

Her voice was weak, frail. Throat hoarse from crying, “Good morning. Just wanted to see if you were awake.” She did this every morning. Checking up on you. She did it when you were growing up and continued doing so when you returned. It was an even more comforting action this time around, serving as a reminder that you had each other to lean on. 

“I am, have you eaten?” Your mother's eating habits had been on the rocks lately, too busy with the business that she simply forgot to eat, sometimes she didn’t want to, her appetite gone. So, you asked her, every day, if she had eaten. Sometimes she said yes, sometimes she said no. 

“Yes. Have you?”  

You hummed in response to her question, “I ate when I woke up, I’m ready to go when you are. I’ll just need to gear up.” 

Your mother nodded, “I will wait for you in the carriage.” With this, she turned around and left. Making her descent down the carpet-clad stone stairs. 

After closing the door, you walked to your armor stand by your window that overlooked the Summer Sea and began removing each piece, attaching them to your form. 

As you put on your leather armor, you watched as ships of many different sizes sailed past your window, floating on the sea in the searing hot Dorne sun. The sun's rays invaded your room, casting it a beautiful golden glow, and warming your skin; the pleasant smell of the sea like a comforting blanket over you. 

Some of the sailing ships came from the west and some from the east. Some were sailing for trading companies, and some were sailing for travel. Their flags and sails fluttered in the warm air, hulls breaking through the water. 

Eventually, all the leather gear had been secured to your form, the last part had been your sword, and with everything in place, you abandoned your room; briskly walked down the same stairs your mother had, and stepped out into the warmth of the morning. 

Your mother stood by the carriage, conversing with the coachman. The sight of you approaching interrupted their conversation, the coachman opening the door to the roofed wheelhouse. Allowing your mother to enter and closing it once she had sat down inside. 

The carriage did not have any windows except for some small springs, meaning you didn’t have a good view of the scenery and environment around you. So, to make sure you were able to keep a look out for potential dangers, you sat up front with the coachman. 

You did not mind doing so however, he was a very interesting man with many stories to tell and you often enjoyed the chats you had with him. 

The ride to Planky Town wasn’t long, your ancestors chose to settle in Lemonwood for the short travel distance, taking into account that the port was a regular visit. 

On the way there you passed several travelers, and you recognized most of them as inhibitors of the other nearby settlements. You didn’t know any of them particularly well, only having met them a few times during formal events. Still being familiar with them and wanting to show civility; short pleasantries were exchanged before continuing your journey. 

It didn’t take long for the lively sound of the now awake port town to reach you, the familiar sight of the Greenblood river opening its mouth in front of you, running out into the vast sea. 

As every Sunday, it was reserved for shipment collection, meaning it wouldn’t be as busy as it usually was the rest of the weekdays. Despite this, there was still a large number of people going about their business of resupplying or trading. 

The coachman stopped your carriage a distance away from the docks as he usually did to prevent blocking the road. He stepped off to open the door for your mother, who had stayed silent during the ride as she usually did. 

You stepped off after him, watching your mother exit the wheelhouse, and walked up to her side, hand on the hilt of your sword and back straight. You were here as a traders’ child, yes, but you were also a knight. 

It wasn’t often that you were asked to make your rounds down here, yet on rare occasions you were. Even when you weren’t here on such business you still wanted to keep up appearances, you knew Brienne would. 

Shooting your coachman a nod and a smile, you linked your mothers' arm with your own and started trekking toward the docked ships. “Is it the usual today?” Wanting to make conversation, you asked your mother something that would pull her out of the damaging mindset she had surely found herself in. 

“Yes. Meet the shipment, and see that everything is as it should, some is unloaded here to be sold, rest is shipped to other port towns to be distributed by our partners.” It was like clockwork by now, and you knew it by heart, your mother knew that you did and found it kind of you to ask. She knew why you did and appreciated the distraction from her thoughts. 

A quick hum was all you gave in response, your steps taking you closer to the harbor until you reached the docked trader ship. Letting go of your mother's arm you turned to look at her, “I will stay on land and take a look around. Wait here until I come back.” 

She gave a quick nod before she stepped onto the wooden vessel, you saw your mother meet the captain and he in turn gave her the inventory list for her to check off. You began turning on your heel to walk away but before you could, something caught your eye. A ship from the royal fleet. 

It hadn’t been the ship in itself that stopped you, it had been the person you saw on board it. You had seen her faster than you cared to admit, almost like your eyes had been searching for her. 

She was standing as robust as she had done the first time you saw her when you first arrived in Winterfell. Her hands behind her back, the wind blowing through her short blonde curls; the white fabric that draped down her figure danced in the Summer Sea wind. 

She stood on the quarter deck, donned in her gold-white armor that reflected the sunlight, she looked so handsome in it, so at home. She was a White Sword, this you were aware of, but you were still nonplussed to see it, to have it verified. 

You were so used to seeing her in her dark armor. The dark armor that she had worn during the duration of your stay, the armor that you had begun to associate with her. Seeing her in anything else but, was an abnormal sight. 

As the ship inched closer and closer to the docks, you saw that there was detailing on her chest piece, a raven. Fitting for the three-eyed ravens' Kings Guard. 

From what you could percept, Oathkeeper still sat loyally at her side, and you wondered how she had taken the news of Ser Jaime's death. You knew that they had been... relatively close, she had described their relationship as ‘an unexpected companionship,’ which was really her fancy (and courteous) way of saying ‘it was a war, he was an extra sword, we spent time together because we had to.’ 

Truth was, Brienne didn’t take the announcement of his passing that hard. Still too focused on the loss of you. In her mind, she had tolerated Jaime, not seeing him as a close friend, and therefore did not feel the need to mourn him. 

The grief from your departure was still a fresh wound in her heart and even if she did feel the need to shed tears for him, it would be too overwhelming to do so for two people at the same time, and she refused to put you aside to lament Jaime Lannister who meant so little to her. So, it was an easy choice for her. You took precedence over everything else. 

You were frozen in place, watching her as she stood tall and proud. Anger bubbled up inside of your chest, along with sadness and betrayal. Yet at the same time, you were so gleeful to see her again after such a long time, and even though you wanted nothing more than to run into her embrace; the fact that she hadn’t responded to your ravens in months stood true. 

You didn’t want to see her, and you did not want to speak with her. With the feelings running amuck inside of you, you feared that if put face to face with her you’d say some things that you couldn’t take back. Hurting her even more than you had already done; ruining any chances of ever reconciliating and returning to each other's arms. For now, the best choice was to leave and blend in with the crowd before she could spot you, but it was too late. 

The second her ship had docked, and she had stepped onto land, she had seen you. Her intense blue eyes locked on to yours and the moment they did, they flashed with what looked like regret and guilt. 

It was too much to handle, the same blue irises that kept you up at night, that haunted your dreams, were now staring at you in such a way that made your heart twist inside of your chest. 

Her mouth was hanging open the tiniest bit, eyebrows furrowed. She was surprised to see you. If there weren’t so many thoughts swirling around in your head, you were sure that you would match her expression, shocked to see her down here. Shocked to see her at all. 

Your head was a battle arena, your thoughts fighting, trying to bring you back to your senses, to help you make a decision, and fast. The one who ended up coming on top was the one for before, the one telling you to leave; the one telling you to run to her getting left in the mud. 

You started to walk towards the crowd, planning to disappear in the swirl of people but Brienne was taller than most people there and was able to periscope over everyone, meaning you and your Dornish leather armor stood out like a beacon on a dark night. 

She started to follow you, Podrick trailing behind her trying to keep up with her broad strides. The continuous stream of people helped with keeping a distance between the three of you, but there were only so many traders and merchants, and you eventually reached a clearing, close to where your carriage was parked. 

There was no hiding from her now. 

The familiar voice of Brienne called your name, shivers running down your spine at hearing it for the first time in five months. You had forgotten what she sounded like, just how beautiful and deep her voice was, how the accent compliments it in the most fantastic way, working in harmony to make everything she said sound like poetry. 

“Stop!” you didn’t obey her command, instead, you kept moving forward. Her steps picked up, her long legs faster than yours, and before you could process her closing in on you, her hand grabbed your wrist, pulling at it slightly causing you to abruptly stop, and turn around. 

Suddenly, the only thing in your vision was her piercing eyes as they searched your face for any sign of forgiveness, love, or adoration; only finding the same stone-cold expression you had worn when your eyes met minutes ago. 

She had hoped that her proximity and touch would bring back the soft expression you used to have for her. It did not. Instead, you rejected her touch. Ripping your wrist away from her grasp, almost aggressively so, almost like her touch was hot coal burning you through your protective leather gear. 

She gazed down at you, a silent plea behind them for you to speak to her, to say anything. Just wanting to hear your voice. You in return stared up defiantly at her, displaying your anger by taking a step back, distancing yourself from her. She took this as a confirmation that you had become repulsed by her, just like everyone else; her weakness and pure selfishness had caused you to despise her. 

In truth, the moment she had gotten close, the all too addicting scent of her had invaded your senses, making it so much harder to stay focused. The step back was to display anger, yes, but also to step away from the inebriation that was the smell of Brienne. 

“Ser Brienne.” You spoke stiffly, your face full of indifference. She remained neutral, but to you, she was an open book. The way you said her name hadn’t gone unnoticed by the blonde, and you saw the flash of hurt in her eyes when you said her name. The usual affection you held for her wasn’t there anymore, and she completely understood why. 

She opened her mouth to say something, getting interrupted by Podrick before she could, “It’s actually Lord Commander-” Brienne held up a hand, successfully interrupting him back, but not before you heard her new title. Lord Commander, huh? 

“Ser Podrick! Do you not recognize them?” So, this was the Podrick you had heard so much about. He was shorter than you expected him to be, but maybe that was because he stood next to one of the tallest people in Westeros; she made anyone look short. 

She had broken your eye contact to stare at the younger knight with her usual glare. He looked at you once again, observing you. The second it clicked; his mouth fell open in a silent ‘oh.’ He cleared his throat before mumbling a silent apology to both you and Brienne. 

“Go and wait for the shipment. Leave us.” The Lord Commanders' voice was harsh, leaving no room for objections. 

“Yes, My Lord.” He rushed off, leaving you and Brienne alone. She turned her head back to yours the instant Podrick disappeared out of sight into the flow of people. 

“Lord Commander?” The voice that exited your mouth was incredulous. You couldn’t believe your ears. She had been appointed the highest position in the King's Guard and secured a spot on the King's Council, and you hadn’t been informed. The love of your life hadn’t told you of a major update in her life. 

“Yes.”  

“You were appointed Lord Commander of the King's Guard and I find out today. How long?” You almost did not want to ask. Not wanting to know how long she had been keeping this from you. 

You hoped she would say 'a couple of weeks’ or ‘about a month’ because then you would understand the lack of communication. You were understanding of the task of taking on a new title and the job that came with it. If she was in the beginning phases, you would have understood. Instead, you were greeted with the opposite. 

“About four months...” 

“Four months-! You are unbelievable, Lord Commander.” You spat her title back at her, there was such wretchedness in your voice, such wrath. What you had feared was just a couple words ahead, the fear that you would say something that would be irreversible. There was no closing the gates of Hell now. 

“Please just call me Brienne, like you used to.” Her voice had shifted into a gentler one, attempting to diffuse the situation. You scoffed at her. Was she really trying to ‘go back to the way it used to be’ after making no effort in communicating with you at all? 

“I don’t know if I want to refer to you as anything anymore.” There it was. The gates had been opened, and anything coming out after this was meant to hurt. Meant to drive a knife into her stomach and twist it. Disbelief spread through your being, so irritated at her for just assuming you’d forget everything that had happened. Both of which were perceivable in your tone. 

“Please, if you would just let me explain-” Desperation was evident in her voice, her entire face softening, her eyes imploring for you to please listen, to please forgive her. But you didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to hear her excuses; not before you had said your piece. 

“Explain what, huh? Explain how you couldn’t let go of your pride to send me something back? A simple ‘hello, it is I, Brienne of Tarth,’” you tried your best to copy her speaking voice, it falling short, “once a month would have sufficed because then I would have known that you were alive!”  

You took a breath before continuing, keeping your voice steady, tears threatening to well up. 

“Instead, I had to get that sign of life from Sansa! Do you understand how much that pained me? That you could not let go of your stubbornness for two seconds to let me know of your damn relocation to Kings Landing by yourself! Why?” Glaring up at her, you panted, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. 

“I couldn’t bring myself to read about your life without me…” Her voice was quiet, almost like she was ashamed to admit her reasons for not responding. At her admission, your wrath eased up. You weren’t furious at her anymore, but there was still the agonizing pain of being ignored by someone who you love so much, and whom you care for so. “I know, it was unreasonable, irrational, intolerant of me. I am aware.” 

She continued her explanation, “I really wanted to, read your messages, that is. Because I missed you terribly, and love you so, but it would have hurt too much. Then after I was appointed my new position and title I had so much to do, and I was so stressed, and I didn’t have the time to reply.” She was trying her best to stay strong, or at least for it to look like she was but she was moments away from a breakdown. 

You kept eye contact the entire time, seeing when tears were starting to form in her eyes, and you were suddenly extremely aware of how exposed you two were. “I’m sorry.” Her last words were a whisper, barely audible, voice breaking. 

She then broke eye contact, tilting her head down, fixing her gaze on the sandy ground. You glanced around you, seeing that your carriage was only a couple of feet away. It gave you the perfect escape plan. 

You took her by the hand, dragging her towards your carriage with a quick ‘come with me.’ The sudden, unexpected contact made Brienne’s head snap up, meeting the back of your head with her blurry vision. She needed privacy, you couldn’t let everyone see the Lord Commander break down in public, so you had to shelter her. It also provided you with a quieter place to speak. 

You asked the coachman to go make himself busy before ushering Brienne into the wheelhouse, you following suit, closing and locking the door behind you. Quickly covering all the springs in your immediate vision with its individual curtain. 

The second you sat down across from her, the dam broke. She buried her face in her hands as loud sobs wrecked through her, much like the ones you had heard by the stables as you rode away. 

Your anger and pain had quickly subsided when you had heard her entire reasoning, and when you saw how guilty she felt. There was no need to be mad at her, you didn’t think you could be anymore. 

Relieving yourself from your sword sheathe, you pondered, unsure if you should remain seated across from her, or if you should move to sit by her side. You couldn’t comfort her all those months ago, but you’d be damned if you didn’t do it now. 

Quickly maneuvering across the carriage, you took a seat next to Brienne, taking off her scabbard before throwing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close to you, her becoming flush against your side. She hadn’t expected the abrupt intimacy, it was a welcome one, especially after feeling nothing for so many days. 

Her arms flew around your waist, her face burying itself into your leather-covered chest. Your free hand came up to Brienne’s head, softly stroking her hair as the other gently caressed her upper arm. Her armor made it a little lumpy, but you did not care. Having her back in your arms after so long was an incredible feeling, and you couldn’t believe how you had made it this long without her warmth. 

Her sobbing was relentless, tears flowing down her face and dropping onto your legs. Your leather tasset had gradually shifted down the side of your upper thighs in your seated position, revealing your tunic trousers underneath. 

Brienne repeated the same phrase, over and over again through wails. Saying how sorry she was, how she hoped you could forgive her. You in turn answered with reassurance. Telling her that you accepted her apology, that she was forgiven. 

You didn’t know how much time had passed when Brienne’s cries eventually died down, rendering the small space silent except for the occasional sniffles coming from the blonde beside you. Her head had been removed from your chest and she now sat upright. You still had your arm around her, hand resting on her armored bicep. 

The hand that had been stroking her hair was now holding hers, entwined hands resting in between yours and Brienne’s thighs. Your thumb lazily drawing lines on the scarred skin. 

“Are you alright?” The softness had returned to your voice, the love and tenderness had as well, and the Commander noticed. She was soothed by your question because it meant you still cared enough to check in on her. That lit a light in Brienne’s tunnel of misery; there was still something left to save, to rebuild. 

“Yes. Especially now that I’m back in your arms.” She turned her head to look at you, you doing the same and offering her a soft smile which she returned. As you took in her tear-stained face and red puffy eyes, you were smacked with the remembrance of your earlier words, words that shouldn’t have been uttered. 

  “I’m really sorry for what I said back there. I was filled with fury, and I didn’t mean it. I always want to refer to you, dear Brienne.” Voice low to avoid disrupting the peace, your voice was gentler. A strong contrast to the cutting tone you had used outside. You brought her held hand up to your face to place a peck on the back of it, relishing in the feeling of her skin against your lips once again. 

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it. I forgive you either way.” You dropped yours and Brienne’s hands into your lap and released a sigh of relief hearing her words. Silence settled in again as you gazed into each other's eyes. The blonde's sapphire blues darted down to your lips and back up to your eyes, just like they had that night in the courtyard almost one year ago. She wanted to kiss you, and you needed her to. “You know, I really did miss you. A lot.” It was nothing more than a whisper, a breath of desire. 

“Yeah, yeah. I missed you, too. Now shut up and kiss me, please.” Brienne giggled at your eagerness and avidity and was quick to oblige to your wish. She turned her body towards you, legs shifting to be able to face you as comfortably as possible, hand coming up to cup your cheek, head diving in fast to capture your lips, eyes falling shut before colliding. 

The second her lips connected with yours, a contented and allayed moan escaped Brienne’s throat. She had longed for, craved, and missed you for so many months, all the tension and sorrow built up inside of her melting away the moment your lips touched. It was even more heavenly than she had recalled. One of your hands flew up to the side of her neck, your body shifting to copy the way she sat. 

It was like you never left, lips moving together in familiarity. Brienne’s tongue swiped over your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you granted it. Her wet, strong muscle started exploring your mouth the second you parted your lips. The feeling of her tongue wrestling with yours along with the familiar taste of her, made you release a low moan; she tasted even better than you had remembered. 

The taste of you, the feeling of your tongue sliding against hers, your soft whimpers as she expertly moved her lips with yours like a dance, elegant and controlled like a waltz, but passionate and heated like a tango. A dance of the love and yearning you contained for the other. All of it took over her senses, her brain going into overdrive, her mewling against your lips. 

The hand that was holding on to Brienne’s broke away from the grasp, moving to find purchase in the blonde's hair. It was already disheveled from the salty ocean wind, hair slightly curled from the humidity in the air; your hand running through it wouldn’t make it worse. It wouldn’t be odd for her hair to be out of place considering the strong coast gust. 

Your fingers started at the nape of her neck, slowly moving upwards until they stopped at the back, curling them in her tresses, gathering a fistful of her hair in your hand. Brienne hummed against your mouth at the feeling of your digits in her hair once again, and the hand that had been abandoned by yours grabbed onto your waist, palm gently resting on your side. 

Your lips pulled apart, but you still kept the contact, foreheads leaning against the others, eyes shut as you regained your breath. “I really did miss you. I was hoping to show you just how much...” Brienne spoke between heavy breaths. 

You did not miss the glint of seduction in her voice or the innuendo. During the make-out session the all too familiar heat grew between your legs and your body craved her touch, as it had for months. But right here, in a carriage in a port town when you both had responsibilities? 

“Brienne...” Breathing out her name and meaning to remind her of your current area; you weren’t able to complete the rest of your sentence before she interrupted you. 

“Look at me,” you removed your head from hers and opened your eyes, meeting Brienne’s that were already staring back at you, her blue irises as deep and breathtaking as the galaxy, filled with stars and planets of her own. They were truly remarkable and gorgeous; fitting for someone like her. “I have craved you for so long. I don’t know how long it will be until we meet again. Let me make it up to you. Let me erase the past five months of misery. Let me do this so we can have something to last us until we can guarantee proximity to each other. Please.” 

The hand in her blonde curls transferred to her cheek, gently holding and stroking her flushed skin with your thumb. Her eyes were pleading as was her voice, wanting to remove the memories of pain and replace them with ones of pleasure; and you wanted that too. 

You placed a soft kiss on her lips before nodding, “that sounds perfect. I’d love nothing more.” At your confirmation, Brienne’s lips turned up into the biggest grin much like the one she wore after your first kiss, and she was on her knees on the wooden floor shortly after; her hands resting on your legs. 

“I’ve never done this before. All I know is that I want to make you feel good.” She gazed up at you as she spoke. She was insecure, as was obvious in her voice and her eyes, but also determined, not letting uncertainty scare her away. “Tell me if it feels good and what I can do to bring you maximum pleasure.” 

“I will.” 

The woman on her knees before you started undressing you. Starting with your boots, before wedging her hands under your leather chest cover to unstrap your tasset that was hindering access to the buckle of your trousers. 

Throwing a look at the door to the carriage to make sure it was locked, you noticed that one of the springs hadn’t been covered by the sheer curtain. As you stood up to close it, Brienne’s fingers undid the metal of your pants, pulling them down at the same time as you pulled the curtain down. 

You were now completely out of sight; the problem was, so was the outside world, and if your mother decided to forego your escort to make the trek back herself; she’d find you in one hell of a position. 

You prayed to the old Gods and the new that your mother would stay put, or that inventory would take longer than usual so that she didn’t hear you reconnecting with your love. Sure, she knew about Brienne and the relationship you had, it was one of the first things you had talked about when you got home, but you didn’t want your mothers' first impression of the much taller knight to be her in between your legs. 

Brienne’s hands grabbed onto your hips and pulled down, causing you to meet the seat with an unexpected speed, she was impatient, and you understood why. She had already spent too much time away from her mission and Podrick, and sooner or later, he would come looking for her, and would no doubt find her considering her last known position and your family’s carriage being mere feet away. Time was of the essence, and you couldn’t afford to waste any of it. 

Heavy breathing came from the woman in front of you as she placed her hands back onto your knees and gently spread them, being faced with your soaked underwear. She had never seen your sex before, felt it, sure, but never seen. She hadn’t tasted you either and she was practically drooling at the thought of finally doing so. 

Tentative and curious hands slowly traveled up your legs, stopping at the hem of your undergarments. Hooking her fingers inside and motions for you to elevate your hips slightly. Lifting your hips for easy discarding, she pulled them down in one motion, revealing your needy cunt to her hungry, dilated eyes. 

She was if in a trance, watching with such intensity you feared her eyes would pop out of her skull. You nudged her shoulder with your knee, causing her to snap her gaze to yours. Her pupils were blown-out, darkened from lust and desire. The air was thick inside of the small space and you could practically sense her ferocity as it emanated from her person.  

She looked so pretty like this on her knees for you, looking up at you with virtuous eyes. So ready and willing to serve; to satisfy your needs. Reaching out a hand, you took hold of her chin, guiding her face closer to your core, she needed a little helping hand. “You look so good right now, pretty girl. On your knees for me. So ready to do whatever I wish, hmm.” 

Brienne could only offer a nod in response, your words and low, vibrating voice combined with your dominating tone. If she were standing, she was sure her knees would give out and she’d fall to the floor. But since she already was kneeling on the wooden boards, she gave out a tiny whine instead, forgetting just how much power your words had over her. 

The scent of your arousal was overwhelming, your pussy radiating such heat, Brienne being able to sense it all when you had brought her face close enough to the apex of your inner thighs, and she wanted nothing more than to taste you, something she had wanted for such a long time; completely missing out on her chance before you left. She thought she had all the time in the world with you, how was she supposed to know you were leaving the same night she had intended to feast on you. 

So, the fact remained: you had tasted her; she hadn’t tasted you and she was so desperate to finally know how your wet flesh would feel against her tongue. Desperate to gain familiarity with the sensation she thought she would have experienced months ago when she had planned it. 

After you had eaten her out and gotten into bed together, her mind had started wondering what you’d taste like and that she’d propose to perform oral on you the next day during your midnight meeting, but then you left, and she never did find out what you tasted like. 

Finally, five months later. She would finally know just how wonderful you’d taste. 

“Use your tongue, my sweet girl. Don’t be afraid to use your instincts.” You stroked Brienne’s skin softly before sliding your hand to the back of her head, leg coming up to lay on her shoulder, foot resting on her back. Your other hand was placed beside you, using the seat as support. 

She licked her lips, mumbling ‘what a pretty little pussy’ before finally diving in, shutting her eyes, and allowing her intuition to take over. She licked a careful stripe up from your entrance to your clit, circling it slowly before closing her mouth around it, lightly sucking. Her tongue was a godsend, so strong and oh was she good at using it. 

You released a soft whimper, mindful to keep quiet considering your whereabouts but still wanting to let her know just how good she was making you feel. Your head leaned against the wall behind you, but your eyes were locked on Brienne’s between your legs, moving slightly as she used her skillful mouth on you. 

Your fingers grabbed at her hair, wanting to hold her in place as her tongue flicked over your clit and you refrained from pushing her closer; wanting her to do it on her own terms. You were sure that if she made you come with minimal help from you, her confidence would boost and that would exponentially heighten the chances of her giving head more often in the future, maybe even initiate it. 

Even though you wanted her to learn by doing, she had requested you to tell her how to make you feel good, and that was what you intended to do. 

Her arms were snaked around your thighs, hands resting where hip and leg met. She switched between sucking and licking, sometimes doing both, drawing out all kinds of noises from you. “Yeah. Just like that, baby. Just like that. You’re doing so good.” Even when she was pleasuring you, she was still submissive and in need of praise and assurance, and you were more than happy to provide all of those things for her. “Try- Try adding more pressure with your tongue.” 

A vibrating sensation exited Brienne’s mouth as she moaned against your clit at hearing your praise, causing your body to jerk and you to hold back a loud groan. She wanted to be validated, to be told she was doing a good job. This only applied to the sex part of her life, however, as she couldn’t care less about what other people thought of her, well, not anymore at least; her childhood self would disagree. 

The only person’s opinion she cared about besides maybe the professional opinions of her King, were yours. She wanted you to think highly and goodly of her, in all aspects of her life, be it professional, personal, or intimate, and you did. This she knew, it still felt good to hear you say it though. 

Brienne’s eyes which had been screwed shut the entire time suddenly opened, looking up at you with curious eyes. She wanted to see how you’d react to all of her following ministrations, fascination, and wonder glinting in her beautiful eyes. 

She took your advice and adjusted accordingly, placing her tongue flat on your clit with the pressure to go with and dragged her tongue up, making you drawl out a throaty moan. “Oh, Gods! Feels so fucking good, so fucking good.” Your words were slurred, your voice low to avoid it being heard by anyone else than Brienne, your heavy breaths and hums only growing more and more ragged as the woman betwixt your legs worked her wet muscle against you. 

You’d had your share of love affairs before but that was nothing compared to this. The feeling of getting eaten out by the love of your life was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Not even the meetings you used to have as a young adult in the local bathhouses felt as good as this did. 

Brienne was a beginner but a very quick learner, and she knew exactly how to pleasure you because she knew you and your body, playing it masterfully, playing it like an instrument; like she hadn’t done anything else. 

She was devoted to your pleasure, devoted to worshipping you and your pussy with her tongue. Nothing else mattered in this specific moment, only the feeling of your legs shuttering, your moany whimpers, and your fingers twisting in her hair did. 

The sounds inside the wheelhouse were right out of a brothel, moans mixed with the wet noises coming from Brienne as she used her mouth on you. She murmured against your clit, a whisper mostly to herself, but you had heard it too, “You taste so fucking good...” Her words combined with the intense eye contact made your head spin, your insides turning in the most pleasant way. 

Every stroke, lick, kiss, and suck from the blonde brought you closer to the edge of climax, the familiar warmth pooling in your stomach, legs twitching and hips bucking with every ripple of pure bliss that went through your body. The release was barreling towards you like a wild buck and you were so ready for the collision, ready to get sent into an endless vortex of pleasure. 

During the five months that you and Brienne had been apart, more and more tension began to build up inside of you, a knot forming in your stomach. You often found yourself thinking of that morning in the baths or the night before, and it never failed to make you a throbbing mess. You never found the time to rid yourself of it, so it just continued to grow, the knot only getting tighter. 

Months' worth of pent-up tension releasing would equal in an orgasm the size of a tsunami washing over you and you were made aware of this fact as the band inside of you tightened, and tightened, until it eventually snapped, untying the knot at the same time. 

Waves upon waves of ecstasy poured over you as your body convulsed with pleasure. Your back was arching, hips thrashing as you rode Brienne’s face to drag out your orgasm. Her hands that had been resting in the space between thigh and hip pushed down to keep you steadier, but still allowing you to grind against her mouth. 

The hand in the blonde hair loosened as you came down from your peak, stroking her messy curls instead, hoping to smooth down the mess you had surely made of her locks. Brienne had removed her head from your sex, drawing languid circles with her fingers on your skin. Gorgeous blue eyes gazing up at you with awe as they watched your breathing grow steady. 

The Lord Commander leaned back on her heels, your hand sliding off her head as she moved out of your reach, removing herself from your legs, sloping to grab your clothes. Her chin was covered in your juices, and you made a mental note to get that cleaned up before you left the carriage. 

She grabbed your ruined undergarments and reached out a hand to give them to you where you sat, the hand that had been placed flat on the wood beside you the entire session was brought up to push her hand away, “they’re already soaked, you might as well use them to wipe your chin.” A breathless chuckle passed your lips as you spoke, Brienne looking at you comically. 

She muttered a quick ‘sorry’ before using a dry part of the cloth to dry her chin, removing any trace of your activities. She reached out a hand with them again and this time you accepted them, putting them on and wincing at the uncomfortable feeling of your wet and cold underwear, luckily you were heading home as soon as your mother was finished, and you could change. 

Your trousers were handed to you shortly after to be put on and buckled, as well as your tasset, and finally your boots. 

“Come here.” Brienne did as she was told and shuffled close to you, kneeling down at your side so you were at eye level. “My beautiful girl,” bringing a hand up to her cheek, you traced her skin with your fingers, inching closer to her face to give her a kiss. 

It was a gentle one, soft and tender, and you could sense the taste of you on her lips. “I love you.” It was a whisper against her lips, a promise for now and the future until you could tell her every day. 

“I love you, too. I do not like the idea that we must leave each other once again,” Brienne let out a sad sigh and turned her head away from you to stare at the carriage door. You were not entirely happy with the situation either but there was nothing to be done until you were no longer needed. “Come with me.” 

Your eyes widened at her words. Had you heard her correctly? “W- What?” Shock was painted across your features, your voice trying to remain steady, but you were too taken aback to bother with that, slightly shaking with perplexity seeping through. 

She turned her head to look at you once again, her expression deadly serious. She wasn’t jesting or posing any what-ifs. “Come with me to Kings Landing. I will ask for King Bran’s attention and request for him to recruit you into the King's Guard. We need more knights, and I know you would be the perfect fit.” This was wishful thinking. The Kings Guard?  

Quickly exhaling and inhaling, your face furrowed together in empathy, you too shared her want to travel to Kings Landing and spend all eternity by her side until death released you from your vows, but your mother needed you. “Brienne, I-” 

“Yes. I know. Your mother. But, please, just. Just consider it.” Her eyes and words were begging, her eyebrows raised in hope, wishing that you’d say yes; that you’d consider it. 

“I will consider it.” The smile that spread on your Commander's lips was infectious, causing you to do the same. Her eyes lit up like stars in the night sky, twinkling just the same. They really were as deep and vast as the galaxy, holding just as many uncharted and unexplored areas. 

A knocking on the door caused you and Brienne to snap out of your staring competition, instinctively putting distance between each other, you shooting over to the other side and retrieving your scabbard, the woman across from you doing the same with hers. 

The muffled voice of the coachman came from the outside, signaling that you had been in there for far too long, “Ser! I think your mother is all finished and ready to leave. Is everything alright in there?” You took a quick look at Brienne, her curls strewn across her forehead, and you motioned for her to comb her fingers through her locks to tidy it up a little. 

“Yes, everything is quite alright. We are finished and are coming out. Thank you!” You and Brienne snorted at you using ‘finished’ considering you did just that, you were acting a little immature, laughing at such a thing; but you felt like young adults sneaking around and that earned a tiny bit of immaturity. 

The woman sharing your space looked at you questionably, a silent query asking ‘does my hair look okay?’ you nodding as an answer. 

Quickly pulling aside all the curtains inside the wheelhouse to let the light in, you gave Brienne one last long kiss before opening the door and stepping out into the hot Dorne sun. Your coachman stood outside, eyeing you both, obviously wondering what had taken so long but decided not to ask. 

“Walk with me?” Turning your head to look up at her, Brienne only nodded, letting you take the first step and her following you with steps to match your stride. She often did this when you walked together, coordinating her pace with yours so she wouldn’t race ahead and you not being able to keep up. It was a slight adjustment, but a very thoughtful one. 

When you approached the water-bound vessel your mother was on, she wore the biggest grin as she looked from you to Brienne, her expression a drastic change from the melancholic mood she had adopted as her default since your father passed. 

It was unnerving seeing such a display of teeth after only seeing a frown for so long, but you assumed she recognized the taller woman beside you based on your very detailed explanations of her appearance.  

Your mother stepped off the ship, the captain she had spoken to earlier barking orders to his men to ready the ship so they could transport the rest of the wares as she reached land. 

Brienne had stopped her walk, the same as you, still by your side a couple of feet away from your mother. Close enough that you could hear each other over the cacophony of people, but far enough that your mother wouldn’t be able to tell what you had been doing. 

“Brienne, this is my mother. Mother, this is Lord Commander Brienne.” Your mother had her head slightly cocked to the side, a caring and loving look on her face as you introduced them to each other.  

The situation in which you had told your parents about Brienne had been completely unplanned. It had been on a hot night shortly after your arrival by your father's bedside as he asked you about Winterfell. 

It had only really been a simple question of what your obligations had been, however, the second you had mentioned Brienne’s name, your mother grew intrigued, wanting to probe and prod after hearing the tone and manner of words you used when speaking about the then Ser. 

Her clever questions and your oblivious answers caused you to reveal more than you had intended to, and suddenly your parents knew all about the nature of your relationship.  

“M’Lady.” Your knightly blonde stayed as formal as always to leave a good first impression. Giving your mother a more drawn-out nod, she left her head tilted down longer than she usually did, deciding to be more casual in her greeting considering the fact that it was your parent. 

“So, you’re Lord Commander Brienne of Tarth. I’ve heard so much about you.” Brienne took a panicked glance at you, hoping you hadn’t spoken about the five months of errors on her end that would surely not be appreciated by your mother. You only gave her a reassuring smile back. 

“Just Brienne is fine, and only good things, I hope.” The worry in her voice was obvious to you, it goes unnoticed by your mother. Brienne was good at hiding her true reactions to things when the situation called for it, and this was definitively one of those situations. 

“Brienne it is. Positive things only, my dear. The joy you have brought my child is unmeasurable, and I am so grateful.” A goofy smile spread on the blonde woman's lips, a combination of relief and glee at learning that you had abstained from telling your mother about her shortcomings, if she did know; Brienne was sure your mother wouldn’t be as friendly as she currently was towards her. 

“They have brought me the same amount, M’Lady. Your child is truly exceptional, never met anyone quite like them.” Brienne’s smile changed into a sincere one as she spoke, her voice filled with warmth. Seeing them interact so effortlessly made you all giddy, staring at the tall Commander beside you with a lovestruck expression. 

“Why don’t you come back to Lemonwood with us, Brienne. Have supper with us, maybe spend a few nights at our residence, we’d love to host you.” This was really an excuse for your mother to spend time with your knight, to get to know the person her child had fallen madly in love with. 

If your father were still alive, you were sure he would sit right beside your mother as they asked Brienne question after question. The image in your mind made you smile fondly. Your father really would have loved to meet her, they would find that their opinions matched on many different matters. 

“That sounds very pleasant, and I would love to accept but I am afraid I am unable to. I need to get back to Kings Landing.” The twinge of sadness in her words did not stay hidden from either you or your mother. The reminder that time was not on your side bared itself once again, and no number of prayers could change the fact that you and Brienne had to part. 

“Yes, of course. How unfortunate. Perhaps another time?” Your mother did not back down, she laid out a long-standing offer, meaning that sooner or later, Brienne would sit at her dinner table, and she’d be able to learn all about the mysterious woman before her. 

“I’d love to take you up on that offer. Perhaps if I am dispatched to Dorne for a longer period of time.” You could tell that Brienne was being polite, yet she seemed genuine in her words. The moment she’d set foot inside the walls of your home, you were sure she would come to regret taking your mother up on the offer. She liked her privacy, and your mother liked prodding. Them together was not a feasible pairing. 

“Of course, just send a raven ahead of time so we can prepare, other than that you are always welcome to our home. It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Brienne.” She liked the pretty knight, you could tell. You could also tell that she was itching to get on the road, ready to talk your ear off and tease you about your behavior around the blonde. 

It was all with good intentions, something she did when you were young and had an infatuation with someone. 

“You too, M’Lady.” 

“Safe travels.” She spoke her final words to Brienne before shifting her attention to you, “I will give you two a moment, come find me when you’re done.” With this, she walked back to the still-docked ship she had previously been on, spectating as the crewmen scattered around on deck to get everything ready for departure. 

You turned to look at Brienne, her doing the same, a crestfallen expression gracing her features. Your face matching hers, “I sent Bartholomew off with another message this morning. Reply this time, please.” 

“Bartholomew?” Even though she was incredibly disheartened, an amused and quizzical look took over her face. 

“Yes. One of our message ravens. His real name is Branoc, but I named him Bartholomew the Raven the First. It was whimsical to me.” You lovingly smiled at Brienne, and she reciprocated, smiling with just as much adoration back. 

She chuckled slightly, “I see. I will read yours and send one back with Bartholomew the Raven the First. I swear, no more miscommunication.” Her words were true, no more silence from her end, no more misery. 

“Good. Well, off you go.” Tears were starting to well up in your eyes, you didn’t want to let her go, did not want to watch her leave but you were afraid there was no other choice. You could see Podrick in the distance behind Brienne, waiting for her to board the ship so they could return back. 

“I will be looking forward to hearing your decision when you have given thought to my offer. I love you. Please come back to me soon.” She was dragging this out, wanting your goodbye to last as long as possible so your time wouldn’t be cut short so soon. 

“I will try. I love you.” Gazing up into her eyes, you took her hands in yours, an action overlooked by the mass amount of people around you. “Now go. Ser Podrick is waiting for you.” 

“Farewell, for now, Ser.” Squeezing your hands, Brienne let go of them and straightened her back, hand resting on its usual place on the hilt of her sword; looking down at you with an over-enthusiastically assertive face, making you giggle a tiny bit. 

“Farewell for now, Lord Commander.” One long glance was exchanged before Brienne turned on her heels and started marching over to where Podrick was standing. The last you saw of her tall figure was her boarding the ship and her disappearing below deck. 

Walking up to your mother, you grabbed her attention by tapping her gently on the shoulder, her turning around to face you. “I will allow two questions on the ride back, and that is it.” Setting these boundaries with your mother rarely worked, but this time you were serious, dead set on maintaining some seclusion. 

“Two questions are all I’ll need.” 

——— 

Two weeks had passed since the events in Planky Town, and you had let it slip to your mother that Brienne had proposed to speak to the King on your behalf. A couple days after she had learned this, she miraculously didn’t need your services anymore, leaving you free to do whatever you wished. 

The first thing you did was send a raven to Brienne, telling her that you reflected on her proposal, that you accept, and to expect you the following week. 

Directly after this, you had traveled to Sunspear. Letting Prince Martell know that you would no longer be able to assist in whatever he needed. Considering you never swore your services to him and that it was purely a means to keep the ‘protect the innocents’ part of your knightly oath going; the only thing he could do was to thank you for your help and to let you leave. 

Packing whatever you needed for your trip, you said your goodbyes to your mother and later that day, you were on a ship heading for Kings Landing. It was another one of your family’s ones, and considering they were already heading up north, they allowed you to ride along in exchange for your assistance in carrying the goods, which you gladly assisted with. 

That all led to you standing at the dock of Kings Landing where the tall woman stood and awaited you. Walking up to her, you took a glance around before looking up at her with feigned confusion. “Excuse me, I’m supposed to meet Lord Commander Brienne of Tarth. Do you know where I could find her?” 

Brienne smiled playfully, lightly shoving your shoulder, causing you to grin up at her. “You’re not funny, you know?” 

“That smile on your face would suggest otherwise.” You were teasing her; she knew you were. You wanted to engage in small banter before diving right into serious King’s Guard business, but Brienne was eager for you to get integrated and fitted so she could take you to her private quarters and cuddle you. 

“We can continue this later. Let’s go see the King. He’s looking forward to meeting you.” Brienne began leisurely trekking, you following after her. The sun reflected so perfectly in her gold plates as she journeyed towards the large gate, eventually traveling under it.

You found yourself in shadows for a brief period of time before the light hit your face as you emerged from the dark, stepping out into Fishmonger’s Square. 

From there you walked straight until you took a right, walking down The Hook and you couldn’t do much but gape at the Red Keep where it stood, large and marvelous, fit for a King of the Six Kingdoms. As you passed through the curved street, you and Brienne kept up a mindless conversation, not talking about anything important, really, just chatting, enjoying each other’s company. 

After finally, reaching the end of The Hook, you were greeted with a set of stairs, going up Aegon’s High Hill. You looked to Brienne with annoyed exhaustion, and she laughed, stating that ‘the leg muscles you get from this makes it worth it, I promise.’ She was being goofy, trying to change your expression into one less irritated, and it worked; she always knew how to make you smile like a fool. 

She motioned for you to go first, and you did, knowing that if you lost balance or fell, Brienne would be there to catch you. She, on the other hand, wanted you to go first so she could be bestowed the privilege of having your ass as her view; she would never admit that though. 

About halfway up, the knight behind you asked if you wanted to take a break, but you declined, knowing that you were almost there. Give or take a few dozen steps. Brienne shrugged, staying close to your back in case your legs gave out. Even her thighs were burning. 

Even though you walked a few steps above her, you still only reached Brienne’s forehead and she found it amusing that someone so short could have so much love, well, you were short to her; everyone was short to her. 

You ascended the very last stairstep, the Red Keep towering and looming above you. It was even more intimidating and glorious up close, and you had to crane your neck to even get remotely close to the peak of it. You had to stop yourself from releasing a ‘whoa’ but settled with subtle gawking instead; subtle being eyes and mouth wide open. 

Brienne passed your still-standing person, giggling at your amazement, “come on, you silly girl. You can revel in the spectacularism later.” You shook yourself out of your current state when hearing her fond tone, coming to join your blonde Commander by the large doors. 

Brienne entered the large building, making sure you were behind her, allowing you to step up to her side. The insides of the building were equally as grand as the outside, a home fit for a King, you thought. You refrained from commenting on the vision that was the Red Keep, but you were fairly certain your knight already knew what you were thinking by the awestruck countenance you had. 

When you entered the Throne Room, your former face had been switched to a solemn one, showing that you were a very serious knight who hadn’t been staring at the building you were currently in open-mouthed. 

There were two other people in the large space besides you and Brienne. A much shorter man with curly hair, and the King, who sat on his throne which had been moved down from its previous placement so that Bran could lift himself into it. 

Brienne leaned down to your ear, talking to you in a hushed tone, “That’s King Brandon Stark, which I assume you know. And the bloke next to him is Lord Hand Tyrion Lannister.” You only hummed in response as she rose to her full height once again. 

Tyrion had noticed the blonde's change in mood the second she had returned from Dorne. No longer staring off into nothingness and getting lost in her thoughts. No longer hiding away and sharpening every sword known to man or obsessively counting in the armory. 

He had been wondering what the cause for this sudden change in her behavior was, but now that he saw the way she looked at you, the way her eyes lit up as she spoke, and how you acted the same towards her; he drew his own conclusions. He was sure to tease her about this at a later date. 

Brienne and you stopped before the King, kneeling in front of him. He called you both up to stand straight, the Lord Commander marching up to stand by her King's side, you standing firmly in place. 

“Your Grace.” You kept your eyes fixated on Bran, very aware of Brienne’s eyes on you. You could see her in the corner of your eye, she looked so exalted and heroic standing next to the King in her gold armor and white cloak. 

“Lord Brienne speaks very highly of you. She has stated very clearly that she would fight by your side and that she trusts you with her life.” You had to hold back a grin at his words, she spoke just as highly of you as you did of her, “I have heard of your accomplishments on the battlefield, and I must say that I am impressed.” 

“Thank you, Sire.”  

You had spent the journey here memorizing the oath you had to swear. It was a mighty long one, but it had eventually stuck, and you were sure it would never unstick. You didn’t quite know when you were supposed to swear it, hoping Brienne would give you some sort of signal for when it was time. 

Luckily, there was no need for that, King Bran gave you his own very clear instructions with his words, “I would be a fool to not have you in my Kings Guard, especially when my own Lord Commander was essentially bragging about your skills.” At this, Brienne’s head slumped down to hide a smile that crept up on her lush lips, she was a little bit embarrassed at him exposing her. Yet at the same time she was grateful for it because now you knew just how much she wanted you here with her unless any of her other words hadn’t been enough. “Kneel.” 

Brienne looked at you with enthusiasm, her pride for you shining brightly in the dimly lit room. She observed as you got down onto your knee once again, barely able to contain her large grin. The corners of her lips twitched, and she was sure that if either of the men beside her were to see it; they would question the reason why she actually wanted you here. She could want you here for two reasons, no? One selfish, one for the good of the kingdom. 

Your sword skills matched hers, and to have you next to her would put her so much more at ease. She was well aware that she was an exceptional sword fighter, but to have two with the same skill was calming, knowing that you would both go through hell and high water to get back to the other alive.  

Having such a drive force can be lifesaving in dire and lethal situations, especially when your job is to protect the King; riots hadn’t been uncommon in the past, but hopefully, there would be none now that there was new and better leadership. 

“I swear to ward the King with all my strength, and to give my blood for his. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, mother no children. I shall guard his secrets, obey his commands, ride at his side, and defend his name and honor.” 

What you didn’t seem to notice even though you kept your eyes fixed on Bran, was his slight eyebrow quirk at the fact that you chose to replace father with mother, but wife remained, just as it had with Brienne’s oath. 

“Arise.” 

Brienne practically beamed at you as you got up from your knee, almost overzealously volunteering to take you to your fitting when Bran and Tyrion started discussing it. The shorter one of the two stared at her with an astute look, mouthing ‘real smooth, Lord Brienne,’ a teasing smile on his face. 

The tall blonde shot him one of her signature glares in return, staring at him pointedly and he knew he was going to have fun messing with her about this. Maybe he’ll ask her if she’s still a virgin, maybe her answer had changed since the last time he asked. He was sure it had, but he wanted to hear her say it. 

“Your Grace. I will take our newest recruit for measurements, then show them their quarters. Leave it to me.” Bran didn’t think much of Brienne’s willingness, he thought her to be a strange character sometimes and this was one of those times. He just simply nodded to show that she was sanctioned to do just that. 

“Lord Commander. Ser. You are both dismissed.” Brienne trotted over to your side, ready to lead you away from the large room. 

“Yes. Your Grace.” Speaking unanimously, you and the tall blonde bowed before taking your exit. Side by side, you roamed the regal halls of the Red Keep, and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring in wonderment again, nearing the exit of said building. 

Brienne found your extreme fascination and wonder endearing, her heart fluttering at your childlike enthusiasm and admiration, her insides all warm, her stomach filling with butterflies as she watched your wonderstruck face. 

The descent of the stairs was much more forgiving than the ascent and you had found yourself walking down The Kings Road that winded through Kings Landing, and as you walked, Brienne explained to you that you had two stops to make, one at the armorer for measurements for your new plates and gambeson, and a second at the tailor, for new tunics and trousers, but also for your long white cloak. 

She spoke to you the entire time about what she had been up to the five months you were apart, stating that it was too much to be written on paper, as you navigated the streets of Kings Landing to make your errands. 

It all went smoothly and eventually, Brienne had taken you to the White Sword Tower, where your chambers were located. “I managed to get your room next to mine, so we can easily sneak in between if we wish.” Her voice was hushed and her tone mischievous as she showed you her quarters, and then yours. You smiled at her words; she hadn’t changed one bit. 

“Come into mine. I wish to show you something.” Suddenly her voice and face turned candid, opening the door to her room and allowing you to walk in before her, closing it after entering the quarters herself. 

She immediately walked up to her hearth, starting a warming and crackling fire, and then moved to the armor stand in her room, beginning the removal process of each piece of her golden plates. 

You couldn’t help but look at the back of her head with a puzzled expression. It was getting close to sunset, but not close enough to warrant Brienne unstrapping her armor. She usually kept it on until bedtime, and it was still light outside. 

Continuing her process, she spoke to you, voice soft and tender, “Go look in that book over there.” She twitched her head quickly, motioning you in the direction she wanted you to go. 

Walking over to her bed table, your eyes landed on a book. Brienne didn’t seem like the type of person who would be interested in dramatic literature. “The book isn’t of importance; I just picked a random one. Look inside.” 

You looked back at Brienne, only having her gambeson left to remove, but had stopped for a second to turn her head to look at you, offering an encouraging smile. Shifting your gaze back to the book, you picked it up and opened the worn-out leather cover. The paper inside seemed to stare back at you with accusing eyes. 

It was tear-stained, obvious marks on the spots the Lord Commander’s tears had landed. You were almost certain about what the parchment was, your speculations were only confirmed when you removed it from the pages and unfolded it; your handwriting from five months ago glaring at you. 

“You kept it?” This was surely a painful memory for Brienne, why she opted to keep it you did not know. The evidence of her evening cries was clear on the slightly ripped note; she must’ve read this every single day. 

“Yes.” She was finally finished with her armor and gambeson and moved to join you by her bed. “I needed to have something of yours, and this was all I had.” She stopped in front of you, gently taking the book and letter from your hands, placing them back on the bed table before grabbing hold of your hands. “I read it every single night, desperately trying to remember your voice. But I- I couldn’t.” 

Her gaze shifted from yours to the floor, and you were hit with a surge of woe seeing her evade your eyes. You did not know why she felt the need to do so. Was she ashamed that she had forgotten your voice? Or maybe embarrassed admitting that she read your letter every night even if it reminded her of the dark winter evening by the stables? You did not know, and you didn’t want to ask, not now at least. 

“Darling,” one of your hands tangled itself out of Brienne’s to softly lift her chin up, so you could look into her magnificent irises. “I forgot your voice too. No matter, though. We’ll be able to hear each other's voice every day from now on.” She smiled down at you with sad eyes, an unasked question in the air that you both wanted to ask, the taller woman being the actual one to ask it. 

“Will you let me hold you, please? I wish to hold you.” It was almost like she was shy, acting like it was the beginning stage of your relationship once again, and in a way it kind of was. You were in need of her warmth, her closeness, and the strong enveloping of her large and long arms. For her to hold you tight and never let go, desperate to be back in her embrace once again. 

You responded by kissing her tenderly on her lips, removing your hand from her chin, and using the one still in her hand to drag her down onto the bed with you. Both you and Brienne were still fully clothed, an error that needed to be resolved; you wanted to feel her hot skin against yours once again like you had done so many moons ago. “I want to feel your bare flesh against mine, please.” 

Brienne watched you lovingly and fondly, nodded, and started to remove her clothing, stripping down to her undergarments. It was nothing sexual, just the need to feel the entirety of her against you; an animalistic urge to feel a sense of security. You followed suit, undressing with haste, folding up your clothes, and placing them next to hers at the foot of the bed. 

Your blonde knight in shining armor crawled under the covers and laid down on her side, holding the fur up for you so you could do the same. Lifting up the same arm that had been holding the cover as you did. 

She wasted no time in slinging the same limb around you when you had laid down next to her, pulling you close to her, your back against her front. Her face nuzzling into your neck, breathing in your scent. 

Her strong musk and arms encompassed you, the faint and familiar smell of fresh grass and light sweat overwhelming your senses once again. You were completely intoxicated by her proximity, you couldn’t think, your mind was scrambled, heart racing. 

She started pressing soft kisses to your skin, supple lips ghosting over your neck and shoulder, making you release a sigh. Brienne whispered against your skin, her breath slightly tickling you. “Tell me what you did in Dorne during the five months we were apart. Catch me up, please.” You were more than happy to. 

As you started to recount the events that had occurred over the past five months, Brienne’s hold around you tightened, attempting to have you even closer to her which at this point was impossible. There was barely any space left between you, not even a small air pocket. 

Your legs were tangled with her incredibly long ones, fingers drawing mindless circles on her arm as you told her about your journey to Dorne, your father’s passing, and your family’s trader business. 

Brienne hummed every once in a while, to let you know that she was listening, her arm around you strong like cement. As she pressed a barely felt but burning kiss to the skin behind your ear, you realized that you were finally back where you were always meant to be. 

In Brienne’s arms.

–––

taglist: (give me a shout if you wish to be removed)

@na-shoba

@pastanest

@the-fuck-do-i-know

@mayfair-fleur

@idontlikepexple

[blakeromanissuperior]

I'll Look Your Way- (Stolas x Blitz)

Warning: fluff, slight tickling (for like a second or two), baby talk, strong language, and a little angst in the beginning

Note: please enjoy, I hope this heals the pain that the new episode brought. This is taking place a day or two after the fight with Blitz and Stolas.

It has been a couple of days since Stolas and Blitz split contact, and it hasn't been easy on either of them. Blitz is laying on the couch crying as he looks at all the old selfies he took with the owl, he wishes he could fix this. Suddenly Loona's door opens and she steps out "hey Blitz, Tex invited me to another party. I'm going out" she waited a few seconds but no response, she raised an eyebrow and got a little angry. "Blitz are you deaf, damn you are so insufferable sometimes!" Again no response, that's when Loona walked around to the couch and ripped the blanket off her adopted father. "Blitz I swear you are so fu-" she pauses when she sees her adopted dad looking up at her with tears pouring down his face. The hellhounds ears lowered when she saw the imp, she knew something bad happened because Blitz doesn't cry much. "I'm sorry loonie.... You shouldn't s-see me like t-this.." The imp stuttered out, which made his adopted daughters heart break. She sat down and pulled the smaller demon into a hug "dad..... What happened?" She asked hoping maybe he'd open up to her, he clearly wasn't fine and she wouldn't take a bull shit excuse. Blitz sighed and explained "Stolas gave me this Cristal but I can't see him or hear his voice anymore, I really screwed up Lonnie. I was so blind and only thought he wanted me for sex, when he really just wants me to look his way." Blitz choked on his tears and hugged onto his adopted daughter tightly, Loona didn't want her dad to hurt. "Well I can drop you off at his castle on my way to the party, do you want me to do that dad?" Lonna asked softly, she watched as blitz nodded into her shoulder. "Thanks Lonnie, I love you so much." Blitz mumbled which made Loona chuckle "I love you too dad, now come on I'll help you pick out an outfit!"

Stolas sat in the living room with his make up ruined from the nights of crying, hell he still is crying. He's listening to every voice mail or voice message him and blitz had sent to each other, he missed him dearly. He didn't hear the front door to the palace open and poured another glass of wine, he thought he could drink to forget. But the drinking only makes the memories stronger, but he kept doing it because he felt something other then numb. No matter how many happy pills he takes it doesn't work, he's lost and hurt from breaking the string that connected him and the imp. Eventually the sadness turns to anger, he yells and throws the wine glass at the wall. "Damn it, stop letting your feelings get to you Stolas!" The British owl prince put his hands over his face and leaned over, tears that are much warming then he's ever felt running down his face and soaking his hands. That's until his breath hitched at a voice that he loved so dearly, a voice he knew was one that he would always have, one that made him know he'd be okay. "Dad..... Why are you crying?" His daughter Octavia asked as she walks over with her bag from the weekend at her mothers, Stolas tried to give a dumb excuse. "Oh hello my owlet, don't worry darling I'm just stressed out from my work!" He wiped his tears and reassured his daughter, suddenly an idea popped into his head. "My dear, we should watch a movie and you can pick which!" He smiled softly, Octavia's eyes lit up and the angsty teen practicality jumped into her dad's arms. "I'd love to, can it be a scary movie?!" She asked wiggling her fingers towards her dad, he giggled and patted his daughters head. "Sure darling, whichever you want!"

Blitz looked in the mirror and smiled "wow hunny you really know how to rock, I love this outfit!" The imp was checking himself out, which is normal "damn I really do look hot!" That comment made Lonna laugh to, her and her dad are ready for their nights. They left the apartment and went to the car, Blitz is driving though because he's overprotective. They drive through pentagram city and talked about whatever, until they reached Loona's stop. "You be safe now Loonie, don't get to messed up please!" He said rubbing her head, she gritted her teeth with a growl. "Yes I know dad, I'll be fine. Go make things right with that clingy, rich, asshole plaything of yours." She groaned and got out of car to go into the party, Blitz sighed and prayed it wouldn't go bad. He waved goodbye to his daughter and started driving to the palace, he made sure to give himself a pep talk. "Okay Blitz you got this, can't fuck this up now. Go tell him how you feel, you got this!" He mumbled as he got closer to the palace, when he arrived he felt his heart stop. He stayed in the car for a couple minutes trying to figure out how to apologize, then he got out and knocked on the door.

Stolas cocked his head at the movie his daughter put on. "So he puts people in traps so they'll have another chance at life?" He asked with a little bit of a surprise in his tone, Octavia nodded and muched on her popcorn. "Yeah exactly!" She smiled but that was short lived when a knock on the door came, stolas sighed and paused the tv. "Hold on my owlet, someone needs me." He ruffled her hair before going to answer the door, and he finds Blitz on the other side. "Stolas please just listen to me, I'm sorry. I want you I really do, I was so blind I thought you only liked the sex and us being friends with benefits. I really do love you and I'm sorry, please let me look your way..... I will look your way." The imp cried and hoped the owl would forgive him for not seeing it sooner, instead Stolas picked him up and hugged him close. "Oh Blitzy that's all I've wanted to hear from you, I'm so happy you feel the way I do. I'll take care of you forever, I promise!" He wiped the imps tears and smiled he deeply loves this boy with all his heart, even if he's lower class. Stolas giggled and gave Blitz bird kisses on his face and neck, the imp giggled and pushed at the Royal owl who's he's longed to love. "Stolas hey quit it!" He laughed and so did his new lover, Stolas smiled softly at the imp. "My daughter is making me watch some movie called saw, wanna join?" He asked and Blitz nodded excitedly, he's always loved horror movies. "Of course, I love the Saw movies!" He smiled and Stolas carried him in gently, he sat down with Octavia. "Blitz is joining us Octavia, we are together now." The owl smiled at his daughter and Octavia smiled to, she didn't mind Blitz that much. "Okay dad's congratulations, I'm proud of you!" She smiled and Blitz face lit up, the imp hugged onto Stolas arm and giggled. "She called us dad's!" Which made stolas giggle at how excited Blitz was, he wiggled his fingers over the imps stomach, which definitely got him to let go. Stolas and Octavia laughed at Blitz and the way he made a dying Segal sound, Blitz giggled and climbed on to Stolas lap and jumped as Stolas moved his hands near him. "Hey watch it!" He yelped but calmed down when Stolas wrapped him in a little hug, he gave Blitz a kiss on the cheek. "Darling relax I'm not gonna do that again, besides a movie as a little family is better then anything else." The prince smiled and turned his attention to the tv along with the rest of them. He was happy he had his imp, he was happy he looked his way after all these years of begging.

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 7- I Wish This Could Last Forever

Fictober Prompts/Masterlist

Patreon

Ouchies... I got in my feelings

WC- 800

Warnings- mention of death/dying, vampires, blood etc

----

Harry watched the human sleeping in his arms, his chest feeling like it could disintegrate any moment. 

If his heart could still beat, he would be worried about it breaking. 

He knew he had to leave someday. He knew that this warm bundle of sweet, soft human would begin to age and question why he didn’t. The longer they spent together, the easier to spot his quirks. The closer they got, the more she would notice, the more that she would begin to bond to him. The sips he took from her were enough to sustain him, but for how long? How long could he go without a proper feed?

He knew his intentions were selfish. He had never had a problem being a selfish creature for all two hundred and forty years that his feet had been walking around the earth, and yet.. A silly, simply little human had tilted his world on its axis. Her soft breathing puffing against his neck making him bound to the moment, her fists curled around his shirt as her leg was tangled in his own. Trusting him, this monster of a creature, with her safety. Her body. Her blood. Something in her told her to go against instinct, if she even had any, and hand herself over to the very thing she should be running away from. 

The mere thought of her running away from him in terror ripped him apart. 

He had been biding his time for a while, and knew that he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye. His own throat welled up in a lump at the idea of her hating him for all her life once he left her, leaving a note explaining that their time had been fun but he had to move on or move for a business trip. He’d have to make her hate him, because this tenacious little human would scour the earth to find him. 

Her fiery ways despite her soft demeanor always brought a smile to his face. When she was determined to have something, to see something, she would do it. Sometimes she unknowingly put herself in danger and he had to wonder how she had managed to get on without him before- and it twinged his stomach. How would she get on without him?

His thoughts always turned to her deserving better. If she wanted children, the picket fence, the dogs, the familial dream that everyone spoke about. He could never provide that. The most he could do was be a decent partner, at least trying his very best now despite their undefined relationship. It was clear there was love between them.

Just how much, though, Harry kept under wraps. 

How could he let her know that he counted her breaths when she slept? How he hurt every time he thought about having to move from this place and exist without her? How she had become such a staple in his daily life, that he couldn’t go to the store without thinking about what she would like or scoff at. She had somehow, some way, engrained herself in his very being without his permission. Oddly enough? He felt okay with it. 

He’s had entanglements with humans before. He drank from them when they were in the midst of orgasm, taking what he could without harming, and moved on before the sun rose to try and find someone else. Being a creature like him, sex and blood were the mainstays of the life he was unliving. Y/N had been a one nighter that he couldn’t drag himself away from. They’d met unconventionally, something off his normal routine and had taken him off guard. Somehow it had turned into this. 

Cradling her warm body to his own, the thick blankets on his bed covering them up as he ran his fingers over her back. The city noises and her breathing were a background for the steady heartbeat, only wobbling when he shifted and she clung back to him. His own personal slice of heaven, having her seek him out when he was living in a monotonous hell. Every day had been so black and white before his little human had shattered the glass and threw color on every surface. 

She would always be his favorite memory, his biggest love, and his hardest regret. 

“I wish this could last forever.” His voice was too quiet even for her to hear, kissing over the top of her head a few times. “I would keep you for longer than that.”

[rowdyhughesy]

Don’t run away, not now - Trevor Zegras

“ I’m burnt out, shit I need some rest. But how can I escape you if you’re in my head? “

- chase atlantic

requested: no

wc: 870

song fic inspired by This is what a broken heart feels like by Marina Lin

You gave it all away

Didn’t even let me in

You gave the worst goodbye

And people ask me how I've been

I wished relationships would come with a trailer, that you could watch it before you fall in love and decide if you wanted to continue. That if the impending heartache that could follow is truly worth it. If those two years filled with kisses on Saturday mornings, the smell of burning toast coming from the kitchen, warm fingertips drawing invisible shapes across my back in the early hours.

The fights when neither of us want to admit we've been wrong, when Trevor threw dirty laundry on the bathroom floor or forgot to put the dishes away.

Or when I let my insecurities become an obstacle I had problems crossing on my own. He would be there with a smile so big the ends of his eyelashes kissed the apples of his cheeks. Soft pink lips placing butterfly light kisses on my temple. Whispering how I was the most beautiful thing he's ever laid his eyes on.

How I wish I could've seen the trailer and been prepared for the ending. Saved myself the numbing ache that followed when I walked inside that door. Trevors facial expression void of any emotion as he breaks my heart into a million tiny glass pieces. 'I don't think it's working out.' Echoing inside my skull every damn time someone asks me how I'm holding up.

Replaying like a broken record that won't stop no matter how much I scream or cry. Palms pressed over my ears crying for it to shut up. Begging for silence. If only for a second

Friday nights got me feeling lonely

Saturdays are when the bottles empty

Why'd you have to leave me?

Dani strokes a comforting hand over the top of my head. Trying to smooth out the tangled rats ness I call hair her other arm wrapped around my body, cuddling me close to her side. Mumbling words of encouragement in my ear as I press my cheek closer to her chest. Hot tears wetting my skin as they run down, leaving small dark splotches on her sweater in their wake.

Throat sore from the cries of a broken heart I’ve been letting out for the past couple of hours.

It’s been two months since Trevor left but the tears still haven’t run dry. Every day there’s new ones along with the clenching feeling in my ribcage. It’s like someone has a tight grip on my heart and slowly but surely the grip becomes tighter and tighter. Squeezing with everything it has until the pain is all I can feel. Until it’s all that’s left.

‘Why did he have to leave Dani? What did I do wrong?’ Voice cracking as another wave of tears bubbles up. Eyes bloodshot, glassy from yet unshed tears and eyelashes clumped together.

‘You didn’t do anything wrong honey you did absolutely nothing. Do you hear me? This is not on you.’ Dani rests her chin on my head. Hand having left it’s previous position in my hair so both her arms are now cradling me close.

Small drops of her own tears that’s managed to slip out landing on my head. Troy gives her a sad smile from his place on the armchair across the coffee table. Trying to hold back all his frustration at his teammate for leaving someone so hurt and broken. For hurting a girl he’s considered as his little sister for two years.

But all he and Dani can do is be a shoulder to lean on and someone to confide in as the girl tries to get over the boy who left without warning.

Don't leave me

Don't leave me

Don't leave me

It’s hard to explain the feeling that crawls up your chest when you come across your ex boyfriends Instagram post. To see those light blue eyes and big smile that used to make your body tingle, lips twitching up at the corners and heart feel like it doubles in size.

Just that this time it’s shards of glass ripping through my skin and into my bones. Tears pricking at my waterline and breath getting knocked out of my lungs. Whole body deflating when I notice the pretty girl standing with her arms wrapped around his middle and kiss pressed to his cheek.

Love you to the moon and to Saturn typed underneath.

And the realisation that he’s never coming back crashing over me like a building being torn down. Rubble and dirt all that’s left behind along with my heart.

Flashes of a face red from crying as I beg for him to not leave, tell me what I could do to make him stay. Without even knowing that he’d been one foot out the door the whole time.

Heart already belonging to someone else. That I was the obstacle he had to get over to be with someone new, someone that would never be me. Not ever again.

[ask-gale-waterdeep]

Dear Gale,

I was so pleased to receive a response to my letter and to know the mail carrier issue has been resolved. I'll admit, it was rather intriguing to find out your favorite book. I would never have guessed! I'd really like to hear more about your recommendations for reading material; just to help the long nights pass a little quicker.

My interest was particularly piqued by your thoughts on Druidic magic and Necromancy. I never took you as one to "play in the dirt", for lack of a better phrase, though I'm happy to know you're broadening your magical horizons. One should always keep an open mind when it comes to trying new things, don't you agree?

As for Necromancy, I have to say I understand where you're coming from. I, personally, am of the opinion that it's an abhorrent disrespect for the dead, who should lie resting; not ripped from the Fugue Planes to be used as canon fodder. While practical - and admittedly, wildly powerful - I find the act morally reprehensible. Ah, but I shouldn't press the matter any further. I don't want to risk a nasty disagreement.

I also would like to remind you that you needn't feel rushed to answer my letters. I understand you're a busy man (I can't imagine your studies offer much time for chatting with a pen pal) and have no qualms with waiting for your response.

With that, I feel I should end this now. Please give Tara my best and the dried pigeon jerky I've sent alongside this letter, should make for an excellent snack! One more reminder to please take care of yourself, my friend. One cannot be the most powerful Wizard in all the Sword Coast if one is not properly maintained.

With love,

~Arcane

Dear Arcane,

Again, truly a pleasure to hear from you, my good friend. And I can say Tara more than enjoys the jerky sent in your letter…perhaps a little too much, compared to the food I offer her. Besides that, it brings me boundless joy to hear of your request for other options related to literature. Perhaps a time can be set up for us to meet up and speak our thoughts on books we enjoy? It would be quite enticing, I do admit, but only if you’re willing to accept my offer. I assure you, I’m more than happy to talk in a long distance.

As for the situation related to Necromancy, I appreciate the decision to not further delve into it. I’d rather not disturb the fine balance with someone I hold to my heart and cherish deeply…well, aside from my mother and my other companions. However, we can take arguments where it’s due, since both you and I are more than entitled to our opinions in…well, any space. Especially in the corner of magic. But, of course, that’s just due to how I feel about it.

But, yes, I am willing to broaden my horizons for magic. Even if it means I “play in the dirt” with druids and rangers and such. Magic is a wonderful thing, like…a melody, a song. Whether it be a shabby tune from a drunken fool off the street, a flow of notes from an inn like the Yawning Portal, or a harmony from…perhaps, a companion I hold close to. I spoke of her a smidge in our last letter…but truthfully, I never introduced her, did I? Well, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, so in that case…her name is Bella. She’s…last time I checked, a paladin, oathbroken. But by the gods, could she play a melody that kept me on my heels. Perhaps she was a bard before our first encounter? I’ll have to ask her when I get the chance, but in the mean time, this is all I can explain. Both from my knowledge, and that I wouldn’t think she’d enjoy her business being told to someone that while I write to, she has yet to know about. Knowing you though, I’m certain you’ll be in her good graces. But…be prepared for her…pet? Let’s just say that, for now.

For being busy, I understand that I do not have to rush my letters. Frankly, the only thing I rush is reading due to how much knowledge I wish to take in. But I’m positive I have time for you whenever needed. Whether it simply be these letters, like now, or meeting up with me wherever we may be. I may be a man of a tight schedule, but never too tight for my closest people. And, yes, I swear with all my heart I will take care of myself, as you should do the same. It would be frightening to hear if any bad news regarding your health or safety would be heard of.

Of course, safe travels wherever you go, and, hopefully, I’ll hear of you once more whenever you get the chance. I’m afraid Tara might attempt to scold me for using so much ink for my letters, heh…it’s not like I won’t get more, but it’s cause I use so much in a day that I most likely will have bought out most of it.

Sincerely,

—Gale

(P.S. There’s a couple of quills of mine, good quality at that, that I figured you’d enjoy to use. Unfortunately I can’t send any more of them since…well, most of them are now in your possession. But do, deeply, enjoy them.)

[angelsworks]

Nowhere to Hyde 2 Dark!Tyler Galpin x reader

1 | 2

Type: series

Summary: You and Tyler talk over details of the Hyde that you’ve found from your book. But Tyler feels as though you’re hiding something.

Warnings: mature 18+ only adult themes, obsessive Tyler, dark themes, sexual themes

“Thanks for waiting, I had to go and sort somethings out in the storeroom.”

Tyler took a seat across from you. He’d been longer than expected before finishing his shift. He’d told the truth when he said he was sorting things in the storeroom. You didn’t however need to know that those things involved his hand and his throbbing cock, held back by denim.

“It’s no trouble, I’ve just been reading more about this Hyde.” You tell him, look back over the book.

In the time he’d been gone you’d flicked through the book. Scanning through the other creatures your ancestors has discovered over the years. Most of these you’d never heard of, others you were sure were myths. Yet you always had a hand on the Hyde pages. Ready to flip back to them at any point. For some reason this creature in particular garnered your interest more than the others.

“So, what have you found out?”

You jumped into explaining all about the Hyde. From your ancestors notes, you shared details of their habitat - which often were dark places like caves. Their changes and things that could trigger the Hyde. Behavioural and physiological changes that the Hyde and human form went through.

Somewhere in your explanation you began to voice your own concerns over the Hyde. You told him that the Hyde must be so afraid and that you were sure it didn’t even know it was doing this. The blame fell on the master not the Hyde. The master was the one controlling the Hyde.

Your sympathy struck a cord within him. It was true that Thornhill had been controlling him, telling him who to hurt. But it would be a lie to say that he hadn’t enjoyed it. Ripping into everyone of those people, watching as the life slipped from their glassy eyes.

You realised that you had been rambling and immediately felt bad. You saw Tyler staring at you with a blank look. So you stopped and apologised.

“Hey, its fine, it’s interesting actually. And I like the way you explain things. I think you’ve got a unique perspective on the Hyde that only someone so kind and considerate would have.”

That moment, right there. Your eyes downcast, hair falling around your face, face heating up as you got flustered at his compliment. His thoughts drifted to getting you flustered in other ways and once again he felt he needed to go to the store room.

“Thanks Tyler.” You saying his name made his heart swell. A smile grew on his face.

“So what else is there?”

“Well we know the Hyde is controlled by a Master. But what we didn’t know before was that according to my ancestors that’s not the only way they can control their nature,” You explained. “In rare cases they can also use a mate.”

If Tyler wasn’t interested before, he definitely was now. His mother had been a Hyde. After her postpartum depression her own had been triggered. Soon after it lead to her own demise. Now she was a forbidden topic in his household. But he was certain his father was not her mate. They didn’t even know she was a Hyde until after Tyler was born. Would it be different for him now that his Hyde was already triggered?

“A mate, so like a friend?” Tyler asked, playing dumb.

You can feel your face get hotter, “No like a mate as in partner - soulmate if you will.”

Tyler had his suspicions, but he had to be sure.

“How did your ancestors know so much about Hydes?”

You pause, taking a moment to have a drink. Thinking of a way to carefully phrase the following sentence, without incriminating yourself in Tyler’s eyes.

“My great great grandmother was mates to a Hyde.”

He was sure. Through some force of fate and luck and all his 11:11 wishes he had made. That you are meant for him. You must be. No one can even begin to appeal to him like you do right now.

You were his

And he wasn’t going to let anyone take you away from him.

But how could a mate stop his Hyde from taking over. There was more he was sure you weren’t telling him.

“Anymore in that book?”

You think, a little too hard for Tyler’s liking. What is there to think about. Are you thinking about lying to him?

“Hmm, no I don’t think so.” Maybe if he didn’t have enhanced hearing, he wouldn’t have heard how your voice goes an octave higher. You were lying. And to him.

He would be sure to set rules when you were his. The first being never to lie to him. He gets lost in his thoughts of showing you how wrong you’ve been. How to make you beg for his forgiveness.

“Hey do you mind watching my stuff while I go to the bathroom?”

Perfect.

“No, not at all.”

While you don’t think anything or Tyler, only that he’s really nice and friendly, he knows the exact opposite.

When he’s sure your in the bathroom he almost pounces across the table, snatching the book. Delicately he parts the pages to the required section and starts to read.

There was so much you weren’t telling him. So much you were hiding. He would use this to his advantage. Make you think the Hyde doesn’t know anything about this book. When in reality he’s sat in your booth reading it.

You belong to him and he’s got the book to prove it.

Taglist: @moonmaiden1996

[vay99]

Loki x reader

I hated that I love you

Anime/Manga: Shuumatsu no valkyrie

The God of deceit and the God of fidelity, polar opposites, destined to hate one another. Which is why you're avoiding Loki as much as possible, while Loki, well...

"Oh if that's not the Queen of honesty." Loki appeared out of nowhere, floating above your head.

"And in all honesty, I'd love to strangle you right now because your timing is as awful as ever." you snap, picking up your pace a little.

"Busy? You? With what could you be busy?"

"Planning your funeral." you respond shortly, shoving his head away.

"Ouch, that huuuurt y/n." he dramatically bends over, holding his chest as if you just broke his heart. "But how would you survive without me?"

"Without a headache that's constantly following me like a dog I'd suppose."

"Oh no, you're making you way to earth again?" Loki groans, seeing the portal not far away.

"Yeah, because unlike you I use my abilities to help humans. Which means to tidy up the mess you leave behind every time you decide to visit your, how you call it, 'playground'."

"Oh~ So that means without me you'd have nothing to do on earth? How sweet of you to admit that you need me." he lands in front of you, squeezing your cheeks.

"I need you to stop touching my cheeks before I rip your hands off." you slap them away, escaping through the earth portal.

"Annoying her won't ever get boring~"

After a few days you returned, immediately searching for your friend Buddha, knowing that Loki will leave you alone since he can't stand the Buddhist God.

"Seems like you had a successful trip." Buddha jokes, eating his basket full of candy you brought him from earth.

"Sure, because making humans honest and polite is done in a week." you scoff, falling onto the green grass, taking in the scent of wildflowers around you. "I wish they'd understand."

"You still talking about humans?"

"Who else would I be talking about?"

Watching you with a piercing stare Buddha continues eating. "So you don't know it yet, mhm."

"What don't I know? Buddha? Hey come on, answer me!" you demand, trying to snatch the sweet out off his hands to get an answer out of him.

Since he won't tell, you've decided to just relax and enjoy the sunny day, before heading back to your room in the evening.

On your way back you feel that all the stress has left your body, that's until...

"Oh, look who's back~"

"I should've just stayed there." you grumble to yourself, wanting to teleport yourself away, but sadly that's Lokis specialty.

"Did you miss me?" Loki chuckles, standing right in your way.

"Sure, so much that I could cry right now." you say, trying to get past him.

"But I wouldn't want you to cry darling~"

"I've seen you make babies cry."

"Well, you're not a baby." he explains, as if that's something that should comfort you.

"You've got serious issues." you pat his shoulder before pushing him out of your way by this movement.

"I've been to Psychologists before, the greatest of mankind, guess why they all went insane." he skips besides you with a chuckle on his lips.

"So you were that! Do you know how much work it was to get them out of the psychiatry!?" you shout, knowing just how much easier your life would be if Loki would stop getting in your way. "Why do you always have to destroy my work?!"

"Without me you wouldn't have anything to do though." he reasons, telling the truth for once.

That's when you remember something Buddha told you once before 'The universe needs balance, where there's light, there will be shadows, when there is happiness there will be sadness, honesty and lies, love and hate, fear and bravery. That's what the God's are for.'

"I need you..."

"I'm sorry, what?" caught off guard by that confession he looks at you with wide eyes.

"I need you."

"Aww, are you finally-"

"No, I mean that I need you. You're the opposite of me, I need you to bring balance onto earth. It's impossible to make all humans honest and polite, without you this world wouldn't work!"

"So..." he blinks a few times, sorting the new information he just got. "You need me, as God of deceit?"

"Yes!"

"Not as Loki?"

"Where is the difference?" you ask, crossing your arms in front of your body.

"None, of course, I'm just joking." he laughs, flipping himself upside down into the air.

You're watching him in silence, wondering if he forgot what one of your abilities are.

"Loki? Even though you're basically the God of lies I can still see if you're lying or not."

"You're wrong then." he keeps his act up, ruffling your hair to confuse you.

"I always hated you."

"You..." Lokis face gives it all away, no lies, no mask, just for a split second his emotions are clear to see.

"I hated you." you repeat yourself, watching Loki land on his feet again. You have told him to die before, yet thus felt worse because unlike usually you have a stern look on your face. "I hated what you did to everyone around you, and yet there were moments I felt as if I talked to another person. You're barely ever Loki gut the God of deceit. So go ahead and guess which one I hate."

"I am both so either way you hate me." he spits back, furrowing his eyebrows.

"The God of deceit and the God of fidelity are polar opposites, needing the other to exist. Loki and y/n have a personality." you start to walk past him. "Took me some time to realize how we fit together, so take your time as well."

Once you've reached your room you sink into the ground. "How the hell did Buddha know before even I did?"

Since that day you haven't heard of Loki, he has dissappeared info thin air. And you hate to admit but you miss his teasings, your bickering and how you knew exactly how to push the others buttons. Yeah, you did wanna strangle him most of the time but you never did. Each time the two of you threatened the other it was clear to both of you that this was not going to happen.

"If this is taking him any longer than I'll just smash his head into a wall until his brain functions again." you groan, done with searching through every part of heaven to find him.

"It only took me one day but I used the other six to panic." the voice you've missed more than you'd admit right now calls out.

"Loki!? Where the hell have you been?" you turn around, unsure whether to hug him or push him into the fountain behind him.

"I hid from you!"

"Thousands of years you came as close as possible to invade my personal space and the second I tell you that this could work out you disappear!" you let your frustration out.

"Okay so that's really what you meant and my ears weren't playing a trick on me." Loki rubs his temples before taking a deep breath. "Listen. I'm bad at this, you should know, out of all God's." he rubs the back of his neck, staring at his feet. "I think that the God of deceit and the God of fidelity work as opposites while y/n and Loki work as, as in a, like a us?"

"Yeah you gotta practice on that one sweetheart."

"Sweetheart????" he looks up to you, still a pink blush decorating his cheeks.

"Awww, this is already a great start!" you cup his cheeks.

"Okay, whatever." he resigns, melting into your touch.

"What's just happening?" you ask, watching the usually loud and sarcastic Loki become quiet and sweet.

"You made my personality take a whole flip so guess why I panicked." he mutters, rubbing his face against your hands like a cat.

"Yeah I'd panic too right now if you weren't so adorable." you hold back a chuckle, earning his death glare, which is a very mild from once directed at you.

"Shut up, your touch feels nice!" he whines, turning himself into a black cat.

"You really think you're gonna get more cuddles if you look like that?" you cross your arms. "You know what, there's plenty of kittens at Buddha's place, let me just-" you turn around to leave.

"No." Loki hugs you from behind, his old self again. Oh well, maybe not his old old self. "Why hang with this peace loving hippie. I will turn the world into hell for you to rescue, who else would do that?"

"This is oddly the most romantic sentence I've ever heard leaving your mouth." you laugh, leaning backwards into his touch. This will definitely be a rough ride, but at least with Loki it won't ever get boring.