#cutting it close on this one but i have not had the time to write today | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imaginespazzi · 3 days ago

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Our Merry Eternity

And she swears that every Christmas season, it feels like they fall deeper and deeper in love with each other.

(In which a writer would like to argue that a day after Christmas, is a perfectly reasonable time to release a Christmas fic)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff, fluff, fluff with some hurt/comfort and angst if you squint

Words: 9.4K (if I could write things shorter maybe y'all would get things faster but alas)

TW: Implied sexual content/suggestive content, mentions of divorce, mentions of injuries, swearing

A/N: MERRY (one day after) CHRISTMAS MY LOVIES <3 It seems like everyone wanted domestic fluff and who am I to deny the people what they want (even if it is a little later than I intended it to be) and I didn't realize how much I missed eternity-verse till I wrote this. I'mma keep this short and sweet and go through the basics. Such as the fact that I did not edit. I eventually will but for now, feel free to let me know about any grammar/spelling/formatting issues. And even though I haven't had the time to go through my inbox in a hot second, I promise I will soon so as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see in the future. Have a lovely rest of your holidays my angels <3

It’s beginning (to look a lot like Christmas)

Paige isn’t the biggest fan of Christmas; she doesn’t dislike it by any means but she’s never understood the fascination everyone else seems to have with it. Perhaps it’s because when she was younger, Christmas had been her parents’ favorite holiday to try and one-up each other. They’d competed in everything, from how big the tree was to how evenly spread the icing on the cookies were. Eventually the excitement of getting a big expensive present from one parent that would only be rivaled by an even bigger, more expensive present from the other wore off and all that was left was this hollow feeling of being torn in two. Her parents have matured now -no longer in a constant battle for her approval now that they had other kids to focus on as well- but the magic of Christmas had long worn off and Paige hadn’t bothered trying to rediscover it.

Until now.

Because right now, watching -through a facetime call that’s been running for almost four hours now- Azzi run around Walmart, searching for decorations and presents with her exasperated family in tow, almost feels a little magical. The way the younger girl’s eyes twinkle when she finds the perfect gift, the way her dimples deepen when she triumphantly wins an argument against her mother for an ornament her tree needs, makes Paige think that it would be so easy to fall in love with Christmas, if she got to spend it with Azzi.

And it’s like Azzi’s reading her mind because suddenly the younger girl’s face is filling all of Paige’s screen as she holds the phone close to her face, lips pouting in a way that has the blonde feelings decidedly unfriendly feelings toward a girl she’s barely known for six months, but feels like a best friend she’s known all her life.

“I wish we could spend Christmas together,” Azzi says with a slight whine, “and then you could help me with all of this. They’re absolutely no help-” her last sentence is cut off by her family and Paige laughs as the Fudds break out into a series of indignant protests.

“Oh so you just want me for manual labor or something huh?” Paige teases, leaning back against her bed and folding her arms across her chest, “and here I thought it’s cause you missed me.”

“I do miss you,” Azzi says matter-of-factly.

“Nah,” Paige shakes her head, “sounds like you just need another person to slave around for you.”

Azzi's mouth falls open at the accusation as the Fudds break into laughter behind her, the sound of it making something impossibly warm bloom in Paige’s chest.

“I do not make people slave around for me.”

“Yeah you do. You’re the princess. You order us around and we do as we’re told.”

“Here, here-ow!” Jon’s noise of agreement is cut off by his sister elbowing him in the stomach, “do all that work and get rewarded by violence too.”

“I tell you I miss you and this is how you repay me?” Azzi asks, her voice tinged with drama.

“Nah I still don’t believe you miss me,” it’s a lie; Paige is fully aware Azzi misses her -thinks that the younger girl has to feel at least a semblance of the emptiness she feels herself at the distance between them- but she likes making Azzi repeat it; likes the constant confirmation that Azzi misses her too.

“Of course I miss you P, after all,” Azzi’s eyes glint with mischief, “we’re engaged aren’t we? A girl’s gotta miss her fiancé.”

The cavalier use of the tone of endearment makes Paige freeze. It’s a joke; a callback to the fact that Paige had practically threatened Azzi that she’d have to marry her if the younger girl won their little pop-a-shot competition last summer at the Minnesota State fair. Paige hadn’t been thinking, it had just slipped out but then Azzi had won the game and then there were rings being exchanged and somehow the whole thing had become one big running joke between the two of them. Except, the idea of forever with Azzi doesn’t feel much like a joke to Paige. It feels like a wish, a hope, a want, a need something she’s not quite ready to admit to herself yet.

“I miss you too Az,” Paige says softly as they grin at each other through the phone, “can’t wait to see my best friend soon.”

Thirteen days to be exact -they’d planned to spend the last half of winter break together- but it’s not like Paige is crossing the days off of her calendar or anything.

“Fiancé,” Azzi corrects and Paige’s heart flutters despite her brain trying to remind her that this is just a bit they’re playing at.

“Right, so fiancé,” the word tastes like sugar cookies and marshmallows on the tip of her tongue, “you get my present yet?”

“You know I have and before you ask,” Azzi gives her a knowing look when Paige excitedly opens her mouth, “no I won’t give you a hint about what it is.”

“But Azziiiiiii-”

“Absolutely not Paige,” Azzi says firmly, “presents are meant to be surprises.”

“Aren’t fiancés meant to tell each other everything?” Paige scrunches her nose.

“Not this. Christmas presents are a sacred secret,” the younger girl replies gravely.

“And who made you an expert on all things Christmas presents?”

“Santa did,” Azzi retorts haughtily.

Paige snorts, “well Santa doesn’t ex-”

“PAIGE MADISON BUECKERS,” Azzi yells and the blonde can tell by the way she winces immediately that the younger girl’s little outburst had gotten her more than a couple of wary looks, “Paige Madison Bueckers,” she hisses again, her voice much quieter this time, “you take that back right now!”

“Az-”

“Take it back!”

“Bro you’re fifteen years old,” Paige argues.

“Believing has no age,” Azzi hums airily, “now take it back.”

“Nope!”

“Take it back or I’ll end our engagement,” Azzi threatens and Paige blanches at ultimatum.

“You wouldn’t,” she gasps.

“Try me.”

Paige is sixteen and she’s only really just started to learn what love is, but she thinks, as she sits on her bed bickering on facetime over the most ridiculous of topics with a girl who makes her feel things she’s never felt before, that maybe love is just something as simple and crazy as pretending admitting Santa is real so she can prevent her fake engagement, that’s almost beginning to feel a little much like a real promise, from being called off.

2. With you (under the mistletoe)

The truth is that neither of them quite remember what started the fight or even really why it had continued after. All they know is that one minute everything had been fine and then the next minute, they were fuming at each other and their plane ride back to the DMV for Christmas had passed in uncharacteristic silence. They'd parted ways at the airport -glumly sauntering over to their waiting families while decidedly avoiding looking over in each other’s directions- with a dreadful mixture of regret, guilt and the feeling of missing each other. But despite the fact that they were both clearly miserable, Paige and Azzi were both too stubborn and too eager to prove which one of them could be more stubborn. This was their first true fight after they’d gotten together earlier this year, and they were both adamant that the other one would apologize first.

But Azzi can feel the urge to cave in grow stronger and stronger by the minute as she feels Paige’s body against her own as the blonde reaches over the younger girl to grab something from the shelf. The contact is unnecessary and she knows Paige is doing it on purpose, trying to get a reaction and it takes every inch of self-control Azzi has to not shiver as the older girl presses herself against her back, acting like whatever she’s grabbing isn’t right at the front of the shelf. Azzi tries to focus on the cookies she’s icing, tries to keep her hands still as she traces the outline of a star in royal icing, tries to do anything but focus on the way Paige’s warm breath is tickling against the back of her neck.

It’s two days till Christmas and the Fudd family and friends have gathered to do their annual cookie baking and decorating tradition. And Katie had been clear that no matter what issues Paige and Azzi were having, they wouldn’t interfere with the open invitation that Paige had always had -since she’d moved to the DMV but even before that really- to join them throughout the Christmas festivities. Azzi had pretended to be a little miffed by it but secretly she’d been hoping that her girlfriend -god she still got such a thrill out of being able to call her that- would show up. They’d only really been apart for a day, but since they’d met, Paige and Azzi hadn’t gone often without talking to each other -whether it was in person or through text or on the phone- and so 24 hours had felt a little bit like 24 years and Azzi had spent every second missing the girl who’d long since become a part of her soul. And even though Paige had grunted about only being here for Drew’s sake, Azzi knows -by the way the blonde’s eyes had drunk in the sight of her when she’d let her into the house, by the way her stiff shoulders had relaxed just by being near her again- that Paige had missed her just as much.

But neither of them are quite ready to admit it yet, and so, as they bustle around the confined space of the Fudd’s kitchen, Paige continues to find ways to light Azzi’s skin on fire and Azzi continues to pretend it isn’t making her burn with want.

“Noooooooo,” a drawled out whine from the kitchen table has Azzi and Paige jumping away from each other as they both turn to look at Drew.

Azzi’s eyes widen and Paige bursts into laughter as they take in the scene in front of them. Clearly the little boy had overestimated his strength and the piping bag had burst and now Drew stands by the table, his lips slightly parted in shock, as the red icing -originally intended for the Santa hat cookies- drips down the front of his shirt. Jon and José are doubled down in their chairs, tears practically streaming down their faces as the sound of their laughter echoes through the walls.

“Oh my god,” Paige manages to get out between her giggles, “what did you do Drewskie.”

“Nothing,” her little brother immediately defends himself, “it literally burst out of nowhere.”

“Sure it did little Hulk, sure it did,” José teases as he swipes his finger over Drew’s ruined shirt and then licks the icing off of it, the casualness of it causing Jon and Paige to burst into another round of laughter while Azzi tries as hard as she can to keep her own giggles contained but a smile slips through the cracks.

“It’s not funny,” Drew stomps his feet petulantly, “I’m all sticky and icky and gross. Azzi,” he looks at the brunette with imploring eyes, “tell them to stop- OH MY GOD ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME TOO.”

Azzi's eyes widen as she tries to protest, “no of course not. C’mon let’s get you a new-”

But before she can put her plan into action, clearly Drew has a different idea and before Azzi can stop it from happening, the little boy is grabbing another piping bag -this one with green icing- and aiming it straight at Jose. There’s a split second of silence as the green icing arcs through the air, almost in slow motion, before landing with a splat on Jose’s newly bought t-shirt. And then the room bursts into chaos as Drew immediately dives behind Azzi’s legs, Paige and Jon continue to lose their minds laughing and José lets out a loud scream.

“WHAT THE FU-”

“José language,” both Paige and Azzi reprimand immediately and José glares at them but corrects himself anyways.

“What the fudge dude,” José scowls at Drew, “this is a brand new shirt.”

For his part, the little boy shrugs, “I thought you liked eating icing off of shirts. I figured I’d make it easier and let you eat it off of your own shirt.

If it’s possible this somehow makes Jon and Paige laugh harder and instead of focusing his wrath on Drew who’s still nestled behind Azzi’s legs, José turns on the two of them instead.

“You guys think this is SO funny don’t you,” he says menacingly, grabbing for two more piping bags.

“José no,” Paige is the first one to recover as she tries to turn away from the mess but it’s too late, and just as she’s trying to bolt out the door, she’s stopped by a glob of pink icing landing with a splat on the back of her plain white shirt.

“Oh you’re so dead,” Paige whispers angrily as she turns around, grabbing another bag of icing and aiming it directly at José’s face.

And then there’s no stopping anyone as Azzi watches as all the beautiful icing she’d painstakingly made and dyed into different colors begins to be thrown all over the kitchen, a rainbow painting itself all over the walls and floors. Drew darts out from behind her legs, joining into the mayhem as he starts to pelt Jon with all sorts of colors.

Seeing them all distracted and knowing it’s only a matter of time before she gets sucked into all of it, Azzi slowly tiptoes backwards, wanting nothing to do with the mess, and she’s just about to turn around and run up the stairs when a low voice echoes behind her.

“And where do you think you’re going,” because of course Paige had noticed her trying to escape; Paige always noticed when it came to Azzi.

“Paige,” Azzi warns slowly, trying to move away from the other girl, her eyes fixated on the purple icing in the blonde’s hands, “please.”

Paige smirks as she takes another step towards Azzi, “this is a little unfair isn’t it?”

“Hey I didn’t start any of this,” Azzi puts her hands up in surrender, choosing to back away from the stairs and towards the living room instead, “go fight the people who did.”

Paige shakes her head as she takes another step, “I already got ‘em all. Amateurs,” she says cockily, “they think they can beat me in a food fight.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “is there anything you’re not arrogant about?”

“Can’t help that I’m good at everything,” Paige shrugs and Azzi’s about to come up with a snarky retort when the blonde’s eyes soften, “except I guess- I guess I’m not too great at apologizing.”

Gone is the air of overconfidence that had surrounded the older girl just a second before and in her place is that soft, vulnerable Paige that Azzi is so desperately in love with and she can’t help but take a step towards the blonde.

“We should both probably apologize huh,” she says quietly, “think we both said some petty shit we didn’t mean.”

It’s true; they’d known each other so long and so deeply that they knew exactly how to push each other’s buttons, how to say the exact wrong thing to rile each other up when they were frustrated. The fight had been inevitable; an explosion of all the angst that existed between two athletes who were both fighting injuries and watching their team struggle without them. It had started with something little that Azzi can’t quite remember but then they were yelling about other things -Paige’s grievances about how Azzi had an irritating habit of hovering and Azzi’s issues with Paige’s tendency to close herself off- and it had ended with both of them near tears as they’d frustratedly stomped into their rooms.

“I’m sorry,” Paige says it first, as she loops her arm around Azzi’s waist, bringing the younger girl as close to her as she can, “I love you. I miss you.”

Azzi smiles, her hands finding their rightful place around Paige’s neck, not caring that the other girl is still covered in sticky icing, “don’t gotta miss me baby. I’m right here,” she says softly, resting her forehead against the blonde’s, “I’m sorry too. I love you so much.”

“Look up,” Paige says softly, as she strokes Azzi’s cheek and the younger girl does as she’s told, laughing when she notices the mistletoe hanging above them.

“Kissing under the mistletoe? You’re so cliché Bueckers.”

“Clichés are clichés for a reason Az,” Paige hums faintly before she’s pulling Azzi into a searing kiss, holding her as tightly as she physically can.

And yet Azzi still finds a way to tug her closer, trying to find a way to meld their bodies into one as she presses herself as close to Paige as possible. She’s just about to suggest they take this upstairs -because god has she missed being with Paige- when instead she feels the older girl pull away and before she can even react, she’s being hit in the face with a stream of bright purple icing.

“PAIGE WHAT THE FUCK,”

“Sorry baby. Just couldn’t help myself,” Paige grins as she steps back into Azzi’s space, gently attaching her lips to Azzi’s cheeks as her tongue languidly licks away at the icing and this time the younger girl doesn’t even try to hide the way her body reacts to it, “I promise I’ll clean you up though.”

3. I’ll be home (for Christmas)

“I’m good I swear,” Azzi’s voice is raw and hoarse like it often gets when she’s been crying and despite the younger girl’s best efforts to put on a brave front, Paige can hear right through it.

She cocks an eyebrow, shifting from her back onto her elbows and placing her phone -with the facetime call- against the headboard, “then why won’t you let me see your face?”

“It’s not me. Something’s up with my camera. I don’t know what,” and if it was anyone else, even someone else who also knew that Azzi had literally just gotten a new phone, maybe the attempted sincerity in the brunette’s voice would be enough to convince them that she was telling the truth.

But Paige has every line of the Azzi Fudd façade memorized, knows exactly how to discern the little cadences in her girlfriend’s voice and read between the lines. She knows Azzi’s purposely refusing to show her face; knows that it’s probably because it would take Paige one glance at said beautiful, gorgeous, stunning face to know that there had been tears running down it just a little bit ago.

The blonde sighs, choosing to let the lie go and instead focus on the precious few minutes she’s got to speak to her girlfriend in peace. This is the first time Paige and Azzi have truly been apart for an extended amount of time since the latter had gotten to UConn and somehow the past few weeks have felt worse than when they’d spent months and months apart. With Paige trying to lead an injury-riddled team and Azzi rehabbing another torn ACL, the opportunities to indulge in a proper facetimes call had been few and far between. And when they did finally find the team, it wasn’t just that they were physically tired; they were both emotionally drained too. It was hard recharging when their batteries -each other- were so far away and every call felt hollow; like something was missing.

“I miss you,” Paige says finally, feet digging into her bed as she musters up a soft smile, wishing that she could see Azzi return it with one of her own instead of staring at a black screen with only her own face in the corner.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” the younger girl says lightly and something uncomfortable churns in Paige’s stomach.

“You uh- you haven’t said it back in a while,” she says slowly, trying to keep her voice casual.

“Said what?”

Paige gulps, “that you miss me,” she gives Azzi a second to respond before her nerves have her speaking a mile per minute, “I mean not that you- not that you have to say it back or anything it’s just- you usually do- or like you always did and you just- you just haven’t said it back. And I mean I don’t say I miss you just so you’ll say it back or anything. I mean I do- you know- miss you and so that why I say it- because- because I miss you- I miss you so fucking much baby and I just- I just want you to know that but you haven’t- you haven’t said it back in a little bit and I just- Azzi,” her voice cracks as she tries not to let the tears slip through, “you do miss me don’t you?”

The other girl is quiet for so long that Paige thinks maybe she’s said too much; her mind rushes to the worst possibilities because what if Azzi really doesn’t miss her? What if her insecurities are right and the time apart has made Azzi realize that she wants something other than Paige?

“Of course I miss you Paige,” Azzi’s voice is thick with tears and all of Paige’s previous fears are replaced with worry instead, “god baby I miss you so fucking much. I miss you all the time and I’m sorry, fuck Paige, I’m sorry if I ever made you think I didn’t but baby- I-,” she’s heaving through her tears and Paige wishes she was with her; wishes she could wipe away her tears and hold her forever.

“Azzi-”

“I haven’t been saying it back because- because-” Azzi pushes on, still struggling to speak but determined to say her piece, “I can’t okay? I can’t keep saying it Paige- I can’t keep telling you I miss you and hearing that you miss me when we can’t do anything about it. And I get it- okay- I get it. I get that you have to be with the team and I have to be here and do my rehab and we can’t- we can’t be together right but fuck- I hate it. I hate it so much.”

“Azzi,” Paige says again helplessly.

She hates it too; hates that it’s so close to Christmas, so close to Azzi’s favorite holiday and her girlfriend is sobbing.

“Shit. I’m being a terrible girlfriend aren’t I? You have a game in a couple of hours and here I am being a fucking selfish wet wipe instead of wishing you luck. Fucking hell,” Azzi curses and Paige can picture her frantically pulling herself together as she tries to change her tone.

“You could never be a terrible girlfriend,” Paige reassures softly.

Azzi ignores her, “besides, we’ll see each other soon right? You’re gonna fly home from Toronto to Connecticut tomorrow and then come home to me after right? Just a couple more days,” and it sounds like she’s saying it more to herself than Paige, “just a few more days- few more hours really. We can do this.”

“Yeah,” Paige agrees but she can’t help but feel like even that’s too long and there’s a plan starting to form in her mind; a good use of all that NIL money she’s been earning.

“I love you P,” Azzi says softly, and despite the heaviness from before, Paige can hear the smile in her voice, “see you soon baby.”

“I love you too Az. I’ll be home soon,” Paige replies, a large grin settling onto her face as she gets ready to bring her idea to fruition; knowing that for now, their soons don’t quite mean the same thing.

***

Azzi thinks her parents and brother must have the patience of a saint. She’s acutely aware that she’s been a miserable grinch to be around; either ignoring them or answering them with tight one-word sentences. Since she’d come down to Virginia for her rehab, she’s kept herself holed down in her room, only coming out when absolutely necessary. The worst part of it, is that it’s her favorite time of the year and Azzi’s barely participated in all the little Christmas traditions -half of which had really been created by her- that she’d normally be excited to indulge in.

She sighs, burrowing herself further into her pillows to block out the chatter of her family upstairs. In a couple of minutes, she’s sure one of them will come rushing downstairs, pleading for her to come join them as they make Christmas themed pancakes. And she’ll refuse -just as she has with every other fun little activity- and all though whoever’s been tasked with getting her out of her cave will persist a little longer, eventually they’ll give up, that awful look, tinged in both disappointment and pity, on their face as they go back upstairs with a promise to bring her a plate in a little bit. It’s a terrible routine that’s been on rinse and repeat and Azzi thinks she’d really like to break herself out of it, but it feels like she’s drowning in it instead, and there’s not a lifeboat in sight to pull her out of her misery.

Turning on her side, Azzi reaches for her phone, flipping to Paige’s contact and her heart aches from their last conversation last night. God she’d been so selfish, venting like that knowing her girlfriend had a game in a couple of hours; knowing how stressful each game -no matter how easy the opponent- was with an injury-riddled team. But Paige had sounded so miserable when asking if Azzi still missed her that in a way it had been infectious and suddenly Azzi found herself letting her own hurt waterfall out of her lips.

She scrunches her nose, eyebrows crinkling in confusion when she realizes that the last text she’d sent Paige before going to sleep -a simple you did really good today baby, i’m proud of you right after the game- had gone unanswered. Azzi frowns, looking down at her phone as if her staring harder at it might just conjure up a message from her girlfriend. She’d fallen asleep almost right after sending it and it was unlike Paige to not have answered her by the time she woke up. Azzi rattles her brain, trying to remember if the blonde had mentioned any other plans -beyond a dinner with Aaliyah’s parents that wouldn’t have kept her from her phone- but she can’t remember anything. Briefly glancing at the time and knowing that Paige’s flight to Connectcut wasn’t supposed to leave for at least another three hours, Azzi hastily texts her girlfriend again, crossing her fingers behind her back in anticipation of a quick reply.

Good morning Paigey <3

She gives it exactly three minutes, stomach churning when she doesn’t get a reply.

I miss you baby.

Another four minutes and still no reply and Azzi starts to feel her head getting heavy with that familiar weight of over thinking. What if she’d overstepped last night? What if it was too much? What if Paige had decided that she couldn’t deal with Azzi and her crap anymore?

She can hear someone starting to hurry down the steps, the quickness making her think it’s probably one of her brother’s who’s been tasked with getting her out of her room this time. But Azzi keeps her focus on her phone, ready to reject whatever offer is about to be made. The door creaks open and she doesn’t look up, typing another message instead.

I love you Paige.

“I love you too Azzi.”

Azzi freezes at the sound of the oh so familiar voice, her gaze moving from her phone to the doorway in slow-motion. She blinks in disbelief, mouth falling open as she stares at the figure in her doorway, taking in the sight of a disheveled blonde ponytail, the custom UConn sweats draped on a body that’s radiating exhaustion but more than anything her eyes fixates on that smile, the one that’s always been just for her.

“Paige,” she breathes out slowly, almost as if she’s scared that saying it will make the girl in front of her disappear like a dream.

“Hi baby,” Paige says softly, casually pointing to her phone, “I got your message.”

“You’re here,” Azzi chokes out and then, louder, “you’re here oh my god, you’re really here,” she repeats, rushing to get out of bed, desperate to wrap her arms around Paige, to hold her and be held in return.

“Hey, hey, hey wait baby careful,” Paige chides, her focus immediately on Azzi’s knee, “stay where you are-”

“What? Why?” Azzi pouts and that elicits a little laugh from Paige as she walks over to the brunette.

“Because,” the older girl says quietly, as she crawls onto the bed and pulls Azzi onto her lap so the younger girl is straddling Paige’s hips, “I’m here.”

Azzi looks at her in awe, hand tracing the curves of Paige’s face like she still can’t quite believe this is real, “yeah,” she whispers, “you’re here.”

And then she’s kissing every inch of Paige’s skin that she can, memorizing the way it feels soft and smooth under her lips, trying to make up for all the lost time of the past few weeks and perhaps even for when she knows they’ll inevitably have to be separated again. Paige’s grip on her waist is tight, fingers gripping her like they’re scared to let go as she shivers under Azzi’s featherlight touch.

“I’m here,” Paige repeats again before she guides Azzi’s lips onto her own into a feverish kiss that has both of them letting out a long-kept sigh of relief.

It starts off innocent enough, the two of them savoring the moment, savoring the feeling of finally being in each other’s arms. But then Paige’s tongue is licking into Azzi’s mouth and the younger girl is grinding her hips in the way she knows will drive the blonde a little insane as Paige’s own hands find themselves roaming underneath Azzi’s pajama shirt, rubbing circles dangerously close to the edge of her sleep shorts.

“Missed you- missed you so fucking much,” Azzi babbles as Paige’s mouth moves away from her lips to trail a series of kisses down her jaw, to her neck before nipping at her collarbone.

“Me too- me fucking too,” Paige mutters between kisses as she soothes her tongue over the mark she’d just tattooed into Azzi’s skin with her teeth, eyes glazing over when it elicits a barely-concealed moan from the brunette’s lips.

“Missed this,” Azzi groans, continuing to roll her body against Paige’s, and she thinks she could fall off the edge just like this, untouched and fully clothed.

“I know, baby. I know,” Paige pants as she continues her assault on the young girl’s skin, “gonna take care of you. I swear. Gonna make up for everything tonight-”

“No now,” Azzi whines, hands tangling in Paige’s hair and pulling in a way that has the older girl groaning into the crook of her neck, “I need you now. I’ll be quiet, I swear. Paige please.”

“Fuck baby don’t say that. You know I can’t say no to you.”

“Then don’t say no to me,” Azzi responds with a smirk, one hand trailing down to gently flick against Paige’s nipples causing the blonde to let out a conflicted noise somewhere between pure arousal and reluctant protest.

“I can’t,” she says finally, resting her head against Azzi’s shoulder as she purposefully grips the younger girl’s waist to keep her still.

Azzi pouts, “why not?”

When Paige finally looks up at her, there’s a sheepish look on her face, “I made a bet with your brothers.”

“What?”

“They said they hadn’t been able to get you out of your room and I said I could do it in ten minutes and they said it would take me a lot longer,” Paige says, hands moving animatedly and Azzi can’t help the fond smile that flitters onto her face.

“So let me get this straight,” she says slowly, “we haven’t seen each other in weeks, haven’t fucked,” she purposefully grinds her hips down onto the other girl, “in weeks and you wanna delay it longer because you wanna win a bet against my brothers?”

Paige has the decency to look at least a little ashamed as she nods before giving Azzi a goofy grin, “yes? I love you?”

Azzi rolls her eyes as she slips off of Paige’s lap, already missing the warmth of being on top of the other girl, “can’t believe you’d rather win a bet than fuck me.”

“Nah,” Paige smirks as she stands up, her hands immediately inching themselves around Azzi’s waist, “I’d rather win a bet, use that money to get us a hotel tonight and then fuck you.”

“You’ve really thought this through haven’t you?” Azzi shakes her head, trying to hide her excitement at the idea of being in a hotel room -being alone, just the two of them- with Paige tonight.

“Ten steps ahead always baby,” Paige grins as she presses her lips against Azzi’s, ending it quicker than either of them would like, “now hurry up so I can win this bet.”

But Azzi doesn’t move, instead she pulls Paige back into her, resting their foreheads together as she breathes in the scent of her girlfriend.

“I’m really glad you’re home P,” she whispers and Paige smiles, gently rubbing her back, “didn’t feel like Christmas season without you.”

4. You’re all I need (underneath the tree)

Azzi’s just putting on the finishing touches to her outfit -dangly gold hoops that Paige had gotten her just because- when she feels a pair of arms wrap around her middle, a warm body being pressed against her chest. She smiles, letting herself melt into her wife’s -God she loves being able to say that- touch, leaning her head back against Paige’s shoulder.

“You look so pretty in that dress,” the older woman whispers into her ear as she runs her hands up and down the velvety red material covering Azzi’s body, “but you sure we have to go to your parents’ right now? Cause I think you’d look even better out of it.”

Azzi giggles; they’ve been together for almost nine years -known each other for even longer- and yet every time Paige gives her a compliment, she feels her insides swooning, cheeks going red like she’s still a teenager whose crush is flirting with her. And she thinks this feeling will never go away, that the halo-like glow Paige’s mere presence casts around her will never fade because this love -this all-consuming sense of you’re it for me between them- is going to last forever. She’s sure of it.

“Do you ever think of anything but sex?” Azzi rolls her eyes as she turns around in Paige’s arms, fingers immediately reaching up to fix the collar of Paige’s matching red shirt.

Paige grins, “nah cause I’m always thinking about you and so by default I’m always thinking about sex.”

“You’re insatiable,” Azzi shakes her head.

“Can you blame me when my wife looks like that?” Paige makes a show of looking up and down Azzi’s body, letting out a low appreciative whistle at the way the dress hugs her figure, the neckline dipping just low enough to stay respectable yet sexy.

“You look pretty good yourself Bueckers,” Azzi hums as she grazes her teeth lightly against Paige’s neck, making the older woman shudder.

“Careful Az,” Paige warns, the sultry lilt in her voice saying the exact opposite, “I might start getting the wrong idea.”

Azzi shrugs cheekily, “and what idea would that be?”

Paige smirks, gently tugging at Azzi’s dress to expose a shoulder before she’s attaching her lips to the newly uncovered patch of skin, “that maybe you want us to be late. Or better yet, maybe you don’t want us to go at all.”

Keening under the softness of Paige’s touch, Azzi reluctantly pushes the older woman away, and that might be worse because now she can see her eyes and the lust swimming in them makes her want to give into temptation. But they’re already running late and she has no desire to give their brother’s any teasing material, so she settles on stealing another kiss from Paige’s lips.

“Go warm up the car,” she mutters against the blonde’s lips, gently squeezing her waist before she detaches from Paige and starts to fix her dress, “I’mma just do a quick double check and then be out.”

“Yes your highness,” Paige teases with a slight roll of her eyes before she’s grabbing both her and Azzi’s packed overnight bags and heading towards the car.

Azzi smiles as she watches her go. As much as they joked about not going at all, both of them loved spending Christmas with their families, especially considering how the Fudds, Bueckers and everything in between had melded into one big one. Despite the fact that living in the DMV now meant that they saw at least someone in their family once a week, the idea of having everyone under the same roof was still thrilling nonetheless.

Life had a funny way of working out. The plan had been set in motion since Azzi had been drafted to DC and although Paige had been tempted to stay in Minnesota -after all being the hometown hero picked with the no.1 pick had served her and the. team well for her first four rookie years, considering she’d helped them return to their former championship glory- they had ultimately decided that with most of their family in the DMV area, it made more sense for Paige to ask for a trade to DC than it did for Azzi to move to Minnesota. It hadn’t been the smoothest transition -they’d had their fair share of fights while making the decision and then adjusting to it- but they’d figure it out. They always did. Because as good as Paige and Azzi were at fighting with each other, they were even better at fighting for each other.

Quickly going through the to-do-list in her brain, Azzi nods to herself as she silently checks off everything. She does a quick glance of her room, making sure that they’re not leaving anything they’d need, before reaching to grab her phone, just to text her parents that they were on their own way. Instead her eyes catch on an email notification, her heart beating erratically when she reads the name of the sender.

Fingers fidgeting with the heart necklace Paige had gotten her years ago, Azzi slowly clicks on the notification as anticipation burns throughout her whole body. She tries to steady her breathing as she scans through it, reading each line carefully and she almost drops her phone, large hot tears dripping down her cheeks as she reaches the end of it. Her chest feels heavy with an unknown feeling and she knows she needs to get to Paige, but her feet are rooted to their spot.

“Baby,” she hears her wife call out, followed by the sound of Paige’s footsteps climbing up the stairs, “you ready yet? The car’s already- oh my god baby what’s wrong?”

Azzi looks up from her phone to find Paige standing in the doorway. Concern floods the older woman’s sharp features as she rushes over to her, hands running all over Azzi’s body as she tries to figure out what’s wrong.

“Az? Baby? What’s going on? What happened,” Paige asks urgently, “baby please you’re scaring me. What’s wrong,” her eyes drop to the phone in Azzi’s hands as her voice gets desperate, “did someone say something? Do I need to go kill somebody? Fuck baby please don’t cry. Tell me what’s wrong? I swear I’ll fix it but you gotta tell me baby. Please.”

Wordlessly, Azzi hands over her phone. Paige’s expression is confused and apprehensive -maybe even a little preemptively angry- as she takes the device from her wife’s hand. Azzi watches as recognition dawn of the blonde’s face when she spots the familiar e-mail address; watches as her wife goes through the same emotions she had reading through the email. When Paige finally looks back at her, her own eyes are brimming with tears.

“Baby,” she says breathlessly, “this- I- we-,” she chokes back a sob, her voice so quiet in comparison to the loud enigma that is Paige Bueckers-Fudd, “we’re gonna be Moms?”

Azzi nods, tears continuing to spill down her cheeks as she finally manages to open her mouth, “yeah- yeah we are. Paige, we’re gonna have a baby. No two,” she corrects herself, remembering the exact words of the e-mail, “we’re gonna have two babies. Twins.”

And it’s unclear who moves first -it doesn’t really matter- but then they’re in each other’s arms, trying to hold each other as tightly as physically possible as their tears and smiles begin to blend into one. It had been a couple of months since they’d started the adoption process and they’d gone through every stage, slightly scared that something would go wrong. But they’d passed every background and family and personality check rather easily and it was this last part, the wait to hear about a child -well children- that needed them that had been the hardest of it. And now here it was, the last brushstroke that would complete the picture they’d started painting when they were fifteen. Two babies that would complete them.

“You’re gonna be such a good Mom,” Paige mutters against Azzi’s hair, “god Azzi, baby I can’t wait to see you with our babies -fuck- our babies. Fuck baby I don’t know what you got me but I’m afraid it’s gonna have to be second best Christmas present I’m getting this year.

Azzi laughs breathlessly, her face still buried in Paige’s neck, “think it’s gonna be the best Christmas present ever,” she slowly lifts her head so she can brush away the tears from under her wife’s eyes, “I love you. I wouldn’t wanna do this with anyone but you.”

Paige presses her lips against Azzi’s forehead, “me too baby. I love you so fucking much. You, me and our babies. It’s all I’m ever gonna want, all I’m ever gonna need.”

5. All I want (for Christmas is you)

There’s a lot going on in her house right now -the chatter of family and friends mingling with the sounds of Christmas Carols blaring from the speakers, the mixed aroma of a well-cooked meal and freshly baked desserts, the twinkly lights strung all around the house blinking in different colors- but Paige’s entire attention is across the room where both of her two children are hanging off of her wife like baubles on a Christmas tree. Miles is situated on her lap, his head buried in his favorite place, between Azzi’s neck and shoulder. Sienna, always slightly more independent, has one hand wrapped around her mother’s ankle while she sits on the floor, her focus squarely on a princess coloring book. It’s a sight that will never stop making Paige’s heart swell with pride and happiness, her wife with their kids.

Slowly excusing herself from the conversation she’d been having with a relative, Paige makes her way over to her family -to her whole world- with a soft smile on her face. She sits down next to her wife, placing a kiss to her temple that makes Azzi smile, before pressing one to her son’s forehead over the younger woman’s shoulder, before finally picking her daughter off the floor onto her lap and giving Sienna a kiss on her cheek.

“Hi family,” she whispers and she thinks that if she could choose to have one picture ingrained in her mind forever, it would be a picture of the three smiles she gets in return. Miles’s is sleepy yet so sincere, Sienna’s is toothy and wide and Azzi’s- we’ll Azzi’s is exactly like it’s been since they were fifteen. It’s her Paige smile, one that is bright and beautiful and magnificent and filled with the promise of i’ll love you forever.

“Mama look,” Sienna coos, shoving her picture in front of Paige’s face, “I color a p-incess.”

“It’s beautiful Si-Si,” Paige says warmly, “I think it should probably go on the fridge once everybody’s gone home yeah?”

Azzi snorts, her voice dropping so only her wife can hear, “baby, I don’t think there’s any more space left on the fridge considering you’ve been putting up every single thing they’ve ever colored or made.”

“I’ll make space,” Paige says haughtily, “everything they make is fridge-worthy.”

Azzi shakes her head fondly but Paige knows that despite her words, she’ll be right there by her side tonight to help her make space on their rather cluttered fridge so that they could hang Sienna’s new masterpiece somewhere on it.

“Mi’s close to falling asleep,” Azzi gestures to the little boy in her arms who’s clearly struggling to keep his eyes open, “I think we should probably let them open their Christmas Eve presents now.”

Despite Azzi trying to keep her tone to a whisper, Sienna’s ears perk up at the word “present” and she turns on Paige’s lap to face her Moms with large, hopeful eyes, “it’s pwesent time?”

“Yeah sweetheart. It's present time, but only one okay?” Paige taps Sienna’s nose gently, laughing when the little girl nods diligently and then squeals with excitement, rushing off of her mother’s lap so she can tell anyone within earshot that it’s time to open presents.

“I was gonna tell you to get everybody but I think she’s got it. She’s got your vocal chords for sure,” Azzi nudges Paige’s shoulder teasingly before coaxing Miles’ head out her neck, “you ready to open a present Mi?”

Miles yawns and Paige can’t help but coo at how cute he looks as he stretches in his mother’s arms. It fascinates her, how despite being twins, Miles and Sienna sometimes feel like they’re years apart. And she knows they're only 3 years old, and she knows that they’ll both change over time but Paige thinks that the difference in their personalities makes them fit together even more beautifully. Sienna had a protective streak, always ready to shield her demure brother and Miles had a knack from calming Sienna down, always ready to comfort his boisterous sister.

“MI,” Sienna yells as she tugs on her twin brother’s arm, having somehow already gathered their family into the living room, “wake up Mi. Time to open a Ch-istmas Eve pwesent.”

“I coming Si-Si,” Miles says softly as he finally waddles off of Azzi’s lap, tiredly rubbing his eyes as he follows his sister towards the barrage of Christmas presents underneath the tree. Their mothers scooch off of the couch to stand closer to the tree, Paige wrapping her arms around Azzi from behind as she hooks her chin over her wife’s shoulder.

“Alright Si-Si,” Tim says, his eyes twinkling as he looks down at his granddaughter, “remember, you should always pick the biggest present to open on Christmas Eve!”

Sienna’s eyes widen as she takes in her grandfather’s words before her gaze drifts towards the presents, scouting for the biggest one of them all. Paige drinks in the joy on her daughter’s face when she finally spots a large box that might just be taller than she is.

“That one!” Sienna says gleefully as she practically climbs over the rest of the gifts to get to her chosen one.

“Careful sweetheart,” Azzi calls out, her voice laced with hints of worry as she watches her daughter try to pick up the present that’s clearly heavier than she is.

“Uncle Drew,” Sienna croaks out, turning to Paige’s brother as she realizes just how big the present she’d chosen is, “help me pease!”

Drew laughs, wading through the sea of presents to get to his niece as he sedulously sits down to help her unwrap the gift. Paige tightens her grip around Azzi in anticipation as she watches for her daughter’s reaction. The twins are old enough this year to really understand their gifts and even though Paige is sure she knows them well enough -they’re her babies for fuck’s sake- to have gotten them present they’d love, she’s still a little scared they wouldn’t.

“Relax baby,” Azzi leans her head back to whisper into the blonde’s ear, having noticed the way Paige is fidgeting with the sleeve of the brunette’s sweater, “she’s gonna love it. She’s our daughter. We know her.”

Paige presses a delicate kiss against the back of her wife’s neck, “you always say the right thing.”

“Because I know you,” Azzi says softly, eyes crinkling in the corner as she smiles at Paige.

They’re broken out of their reverie by their daughter screaming in excitement as she finally uncovers her present -a barbie basketball court-, and just like Azzi had predicted she would, she says, “I love it, I love it, I love it. Thank you Mama, thank you Mommy!”

Paige and Azzi laugh, opening their arms in tandem for Sienna to rush into, “we’re glad you like it Si-Si.”

“I love it,” Sienna corrects as she gives each of them a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“My turn now?” a meek voice cuts in and everyone's eyes fall onto Miles, who cowers slightly at having everyone’s attention.

“Yeah it is,” Paige grins at her son, tickling him lightly in the stomach before pushing him towards the presents, “pick whichever one you want to open Mi.”

Miles chews at his bottom lip, cautiously observing the huge pile of presents before turning to his Mothers’ with a way expression and Paige has to hide her grin, knowing exactly what he’s about to ask.

“Too many,” Miles says, bouncing nervously on his tiny little feet, “you help me pick pease Mama.”

Paige laughs as she gathers the little boy in her arms but not before she’s whispering in Azzi’s ear, “think he might be more indecisive than you baby,” which earns her a slight elbow to the stomach before she nods at her son, “of course I’ll help you pick sweetheart.”

She pretends to make a big show of searching for the right present, observing her son’s facial expression before she sees his eyes light up a little when she grabs a medium-sized blue one.

“Aha!” Paige yells triumphantly, causing all the adults in the room to snicker at her antiques, “think you should open this one Mi.”

Miles grins as he makes grabby hands towards the present in his mother’s hand. It takes him approximately four and a half seconds to rip off all the wrapping paper and his eyes marvel at the gift in his hands.

“Teddy,” Miles says in awe as he clutches the cuddly stuffed toy to his chest.

“Yeah it is baby,” Azzi nods as she kneels down next to the little boy, “here,” she points towards the blue heart on his chest, “how about you squeeze it?”

Miles does as he is told, squeezing the teddy-bear’s heart as tightly as he can and it starts to glow. Paige and Azzi’s voices ring out through the room, singing -slightly off-key- Miles’s favorite lullaby. The little boy’s eyes widen when he realizes the sound isn’t coming from his Mothers', both of whom have their mouths closed, but from the teddy-bear’s heart.

“Now, whenever you’re scared at night in your big boy bed, you can just squeeze teddy and it’ll be like Mommy and Mama are already there with you,” Azzi says softly as she brushes her hands through her son’s hair, “you like it Mi?”

“I’m gonna call it MoMa,” Miles says in lieu of an answer as he beams up at Paige and Azzi, “like Mommy and Mama but MoMa.”

Paige laughs, her eyes suddenly starting to feel a little wet, as she wraps an arm around Azzi’s waist, watching her children fawn over the presents they’d just opened. There’s plenty more left and she’s excited to watch their reaction to opening the others but the first ones are always just a little more special. And whether it was giving Sienna a basketball court, or giving Miles a version of their voices, through these gifts they’d tried to give their children a part of themselves.

“Hey,” Azzi snaps Paige out of her trance, her hand reaching down to intertwine with Paige’s as she begins to pull her away from their family, “come with me for a second.”

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her chest, smirking as she follows her wife upstairs, “are you sneaking me into our bedroom to have a quickie? While our family and our children are right downstairs?”

Azzi turns to her with a cheeky grin as they enter their bedroom, tracing a finger down Paige’s arm, “would you object if I was?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not. Let’s do it,” Paige waggles her eyebrows, pulling Azzi into her chest but the younger woman immediately shrugs herself out of it as she goes into their closet instead, “oh okay then, leave me high and dry on fucking Christmas Eve.”

“Shut up,” Azzi chides, still rummaging through drawers before she finally emerges from the mahogany doors with a small silver box, walking back to Paige with a small smile on her face, “I figured you should get to open a present tonight too.”

“Well the present I was hoping to unwrap was you-” her joke is cut off by Azzi laughing.

“Baby please, you are way too old to be saying that shit.”

“Hey,” Paige says with mock offense, “first of all, I’m not that old and second of all, you’re never too old to be flirting with your wife.”

“First of all, it’s okay that you’re old baby, I like them a little older,” Azzi smirks, “and second of all, you are if the flirting's that corny and third of all,” she gives Paige a pointed look when the other woman open her mouth to counter, “shut up and open your present.”

“Still so bossy aren’t you princess?” Paige shakes her head but she does as she told, delicately removing the lid from the box and gasping when she sees the necklace inside, “baby, it’s beautiful.”

The necklace is similar to the engagement ring she’d gotten for Azzi, not the one from the fair all those years ago, but the real one. It’s a simple enough chain with a heart shaped diamond-encrusted locket, except on either side of the heart, the chain is looped into two infinity symbols.

“Open it,” Azzi says softly.

“What?” Paige asks, still staring dazedly at the dainty jewelry in her hands.

“The heart,” Azzi points to the locket, “it opens.”

Paige does as she’s told, delicately using her nails to pull apart the locket and a fresh set of tears brim in her eyes when she sees what’s inside. On one side of the heart is a picture of Miles and Sienna, the twins grinning at the camera and Paige remembers the exact moment she’d taken it. On the other side, is a picture of Paige and Azzi; specifically a picture of their kiss at their wedding.

“Baby,” Paige says again, uncannily lost for words.

“You’re really fucking hard to shop for you know that?” Azzi says slowly, her own eyes glistening with moisture “like what do you even get someone who basically has everything because you know- like you always say- we’re your everything -all you could ever want is me, Miles and Sienna- and we’re already yours, just like you’re already ours. And so I figured I’d just give you a reminder of it, something you can always keep with you so you always know.”

“It’s perfect,” Paige breathes out as she holds the locker out towards Azzi, “put it on me?”

Azzi grins as Paige turns around and the blonde watches through the mirror as the chain is placed carefully around her neck and her wife firmly clasps it together before placing a soft kiss to the back of her neck.

“I love you,” Azzi whispers when Paige turns back around, “for eternity.”

“I love you,” Paige whispers back, pulling her wife flush against her chest, the locket with her world hanging between them, “to eternity and beyond.”

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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moonselune · 2 days ago

Note

I absolutely love how you write for the bg3 companions!!

Can we get romanced companions reacting to seeing Tav being approached by an abusive ex, who grabs them violently when Tav tries to walk away from the confrontation? They are grabbed violently by the hair, neck, wrist, etc? Thank you!!

omg yessssssssss tw everyone this will contain themes of abuse and domestic violence so if you are uncomfortable with that please click off and I will see you in the next one xox

Karlach:

The tavern was warm and lively, filled with the buzz of laughter, clinking mugs, and the hum of an old bard strumming away in the corner. You sat close to Karlach at a small, dimly lit table, her broad grin as radiant as ever. Her laughter boomed over some silly tale you'd told, her joy contagious as the two of you sipped from your mugs. The night was going perfectly—until they showed up.

You didn’t see your ex at first, but you heard their voice, a cold and unwelcome shard of your past cutting through the tavern’s warmth. “Well, well. Look who it is.”

Your stomach dropped. Turning slowly, you saw them, standing just a few feet away with that same cruel smirk you’d hoped to never see again. They looked the same, too—bitter, angry, and clearly still holding a grudge. Karlach’s laughter faded as she noticed your sudden shift in demeanor. Her eyes flicked between you and the person now looming over your table.

“Not here,” you said softly, your voice steady but laced with warning. “Don’t make a scene. Just leave.”

They laughed, a sharp, mocking sound that turned heads. “Oh, I’m making a scene?” they sneered, stepping closer. “You think you can just walk out of my life and act like nothing happened?”

You tried to stand, but before you could, their hand shot out and grabbed your arm, fingers digging into your skin.

“You’re not going anywhere,” they hissed.

The motion was so sudden that the tavern seemed to freeze for a moment. The mug in Karlach’s hand thudded onto the table, her expression darkening in an instant.

“Get your hands off them,” she said, her voice a low, warning growl.

Your ex sneered at her, but before they could say anything more, Karlach shot up from her seat. She shoved them back with one powerful hand, forcing them to release you. The force sent them stumbling, their eyes widening in shock.

“You okay?” Karlach asked, her warm brown eyes filled with concern as she turned to you. Her hand came to your cheek, her thumb brushing gently against your skin.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, though your voice wavered slightly. “Let’s just—”

Before you could finish, your ex stormed back, their face twisted in rage. They lunged toward you, but they didn’t get far. Karlach’s fist met their face in a flash of fiery determination, the impact so loud it echoed through the now-silent tavern. Your ex crumpled to the floor in a heap, unconscious before they even hit the ground.

Karlach flexed her fingers, looking down at them with disdain.

“Idiot,” she muttered, then turned back to you. “C’mon, love. Let’s get out of here.”

You nodded, your hands trembling slightly as you reached for your coat. As the two of you walked out into the cool night air, Karlach slipped an arm around your shoulders, her presence grounding you.

“Sorry about that,” you murmured after a few moments of silence. “I didn’t think they’d—”

“Stop,” Karlach said gently, her voice firm but kind. “You don’t owe me an apology for their bullshit. What’s their deal, anyway?”

You hesitated but eventually sighed. “We were together a long time ago. It… wasn’t a good relationship. They were controlling, mean. It took everything I had to leave.”

Karlach’s jaw tightened, and you could see the flicker of rage in her eyes as she looked straight ahead.

“Should’ve killed the arsehole,” she muttered under her breath.

You chuckled softly, though it was tinged with nervousness. “You don’t have to solve everything with violence, you know.”

She looked down at you, her expression softening.

“Not everything,” she said with a small grin. “But that? They had it coming.” Her arm tightened around you. “No one gets to treat you like that. Not while I’m here.”

A warm wave of gratitude washed over you as you leaned into her, the safety of her presence more comforting than words could express. “Thank you, Karlach.”

“Always, love,” she replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. As the two of you walked home, you felt lighter, knowing you were no longer alone in facing the ghosts of your past.

Minthara:

The streets of Baldur's Gate were alive with the din of activity: merchants haggling in the marketplace, children darting between the crowd, and the occasional bard strumming a jaunty tune. You walked alongside Minthara, her presence commanding, as always. Her arm curled around your waist with a possessiveness that was both protective and tender. Her silvery hair caught the evening light, and her voice, low and firm, reached your ear.

“We are being followed,” she murmured, her lips brushing your temple. “Someone’s gaze lingers far too long on you.”

Your heart sank, a sinking pit of familiarity clawing at your gut. You subtly glanced over your shoulder under the guise of adjusting your scarf, and that’s when you saw them: your abusive ex. Their figure lingered in the shadows, weaving through the crowd like a snake, their eyes fixed on you with that same unsettling intensity you had tried so hard to forget.

“Dammit,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. The weight of the moment sank in, and you let out a frustrated sigh.

Minthara’s amber eyes narrowed as she studied your expression.

“Who is that?” she asked, her voice icy and sharp.

You hesitated, considering whether to brush it off, but you knew better than to lie to Minthara. “Do you remember the scar just above my hip?” you asked softly, barely above a whisper.

Her grip on your waist tightened as she nodded, her gaze fixed on you, unreadable yet intense.

“They gave it to me,” you admitted, keeping your voice steady. “It happened the day I tried to leave them. We fought, and—” You stopped, the memories creeping too close. “They’ve always had a hard time letting go.”

Minthara’s body went rigid. Her hand, still wrapped around your waist, stilled entirely, her nails pressing into the fabric of your tunic. Her jaw clenched, and before you could stop her, she uncoiled with terrifying precision and sprinted toward your ex.

“Minthara, wait!” you shouted, but it was useless. She was already closing the distance.

Your ex barely had time to react before Minthara tackled them to the ground with the force of a lioness taking down her prey. The crowd scattered, gasps and shouts echoing in the marketplace as she delivered blow after calculated blow. Each strike was vicious but efficient, aimed with the precision of someone trained to dismantle an opponent piece by piece. Her movements were smooth, brutal, and terrifyingly beautiful in their ruthlessness.

“Touch them again,” Minthara snarled, her voice low and venomous as she pressed her forearm against your ex’s throat, “and I will ensure that death would beg for you before I allow it.”

She delivered one final punch, leaving your ex groaning and crumpled in the dirt, their face bloodied and swollen. Satisfied, she stood, brushing her hands off as if she had merely swatted a fly. She strode back toward you, the calm precision of her movements making the crowd part before her like waves.

When she reached you, she lifted her chin, a faint, dangerous smile curling her lips.

“The injuries I’ve given them will take decades to heal,” she promised, her voice still simmering with fury. “And perhaps a century to scar.”

You stared at her, part of you unsure whether to admonish or thank her. Finally, you sighed, shaking your head. “Minthara, you didn’t have to—”

“They hurt you,” she cut in, her voice softening only slightly as her gaze bored into yours. “That is reason enough.”

She reached out, brushing her thumb against your cheek with unexpected tenderness. “You are mine to protect. That wretch deserved every ounce of pain I inflicted.”

Despite the ferocity of her words, the warmth in her touch reminded you why you trusted her so deeply. With a soft sigh, you nodded, leaning into her hand.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, the weight of her actions settling in. Her smile widened, pride glinting in her eyes.

“Of course, my heart. No one who dares harm you will ever go unpunished.” She took your hand and began walking again, her steps measured and sure. As the chaos in the marketplace faded behind you, you couldn’t help but feel safer than you ever had before.

Lae'zel:

The bustling market was alive with noise: merchants shouting out their wares, children weaving between the stalls, and the occasional clang of metal as blacksmiths displayed their crafts. You and Lae’zel moved through the chaos, her sharp eyes scanning for supplies while you trailed beside her, taking in the sights. It was a moment of relative peace amidst your usual adventures.

And then, like a thunderclap on a clear day, you saw them. Your ex.

Before you could react, they were in front of you, their face lighting up with a joy that felt out of place—wrong, even. “There you are!” they exclaimed, pulling you into a hug so suddenly that you didn’t have time to resist. Their arms wrapped around you tightly, and you froze, your breath catching in your throat as panic set in. It wasn’t the embrace of an old friend—it was a claim, a reminder of the control they once held over you.

“I’ve missed you,” they said with a grin, pulling back to look at you. “We have to catch up sometime.”

They left without waiting for your reply, disappearing into the crowd as if they hadn’t just turned your world upside down. You stood there, motionless, your heart pounding and your thoughts racing.

Lae’zel, who had been perusing a nearby stand, turned to you. Her amber eyes immediately narrowed, her expression shifting from mild annoyance at the interruption to something far more dangerous.

“What is this?” she demanded, stepping closer. “You look like you’re about to fight a dragon with a pitchfork. Who were they?”

You couldn’t speak at first. Your throat felt dry, and the words were stuck, lodged somewhere between fear and shame. Finally, you managed to stammer out, “That… That was my ex.”

Lae’zel’s eyes sharpened, her gaze cutting through you like a blade.

“And this is your reaction to a past lover? You are no stranger to affection, but you looked as though the mere touch of them turned your blood to acid.” Her voice lowered, her tone becoming more dangerous. “What did they do to you?”

You tried to explain, but the words faltered. Your lips moved, but the memories caught up with you, dragging you back into a place you didn’t want to revisit. You didn’t need to say it, though—Lae’zel saw the truth in your silence.

She cursed violently in Gith, the harsh, guttural sounds slicing through the air. Her hand tightened around her weapon, and her whole body tensed like a predator ready to strike.

“They hurt you,” she said, her voice barely above a growl. “I will take their head and present it to you as a trophy.”

She turned, already scanning the crowd for their retreating form, but you reached out, grabbing her arm.

“Wait,” you said, your voice trembling. “Just… wait a moment.”

Lae’zel hesitated, her muscles twitching with the need for action, but she stayed. Her eyes never left you as you closed yours and took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm within. She stayed close, her presence grounding you as you forced yourself to let go of the fear and focus on the present.

After a few moments, you opened your eyes and gave her a weak smile.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice steadier now. “I just needed a moment.”

Her gaze softened slightly, but the fire in her eyes hadn’t dimmed.

“Are you ready?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous. “Because I will not let this stand.”

You nodded, a small gesture, but it was all she needed. With a fierce grin, she turned on her heel and stalked into the crowd, her focus like a blade honed to perfection.

It didn’t take long for her to find them. You followed at a safe distance, your heart racing but unable to stop her now. She caught up to them near a fruit stall, grabbing them by the shoulder and spinning them around. They barely had time to react before Lae’zel shoved them against a wooden post, her face inches from theirs.

“You dare to touch what is mine?” she snarled, her voice loud enough to draw the attention of everyone nearby. “You have left scars on them that I cannot abide. For that, I will use your head as my footrest.”

The ex stammered, their confidence evaporating under her ferocity. Before they could say anything more, Lae’zel delivered a sharp blow to their stomach, doubling them over. She stepped back, letting them fall to their knees, then stood over them like a conqueror surveying her victory.

Satisfied that her message was clear, she turned and walked back to you, her expression fierce but triumphant.

“It is done,” she said simply. “They will not trouble you again.”

You let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over you despite the chaos. “Thank you,” you said, reaching out to take her hand.

Her grip was firm, reassuring. “No one hurts you and walks away unscathed,” she said. “Not while I draw breath.”

With that, she led you away, her protective presence a shield against the world.

Shadowheart:

The party was vibrant, full of chatter, music, and laughter. The hum of lively conversation filled the grand hall as you and Shadowheart wove through the crowd, wine glasses in hand. You hadn’t been entirely thrilled about attending, but Shadowheart’s soft insistence and the promise of shared moments made it worthwhile.

That was until you saw them—your ex.

They were standing near the center of a small group, regaling their audience with some elaborate tale, their gestures animated and their voice dripping with charm. Your stomach turned when they noticed you, their expression lighting up with the kind of false familiarity that set your nerves on edge. They sidled over, slipping seamlessly into your space, and before you could react, they had drawn you into their circle.

Shadowheart, ever watchful, stayed close, her sharp eyes flicking between you and your ex.

“We can leave,” she murmured under her breath, her voice calm but concerned. “Say the word.”

You shook your head, managing a strained smile.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured her, though your grip on your glass tightened slightly. You didn’t want to ruin the evening for her.

As the conversation swirled, your ex began telling a story—one about you. They spoke as if the two of you were still an item, peppering their tale with biting remarks and veiled insults.

“Oh, you should’ve seen them back then,” they sneered, “always so scatterbrained. Couldn’t even get through a simple task without my help.”

The group laughed awkwardly, clearly sensing the tension. Your face burned with a mix of anger and humiliation, but before you could find your voice, Shadowheart stepped forward, her demeanor cool and composed, but her eyes as sharp as daggers.

She interrupted smoothly, her voice cutting through the conversation like a blade.

“That reminds me of a story from my past,” she said, her tone conversational yet chilling. The group turned to her, captivated by the quiet authority in her voice. “There was a time when I dealt with an exceptionally arrogant prisoner. They fancied themselves clever—always talking back, thinking they were in control. So I decided to teach them a lesson.” She paused, taking a sip of her wine as if the next part were merely an afterthought. “I ripped out their tongue and fed it to them.”

The silence that followed was deafening. The group stared at her, their eyes wide, as the weight of her words hung heavy in the air. Your ex, who had been so confident mere moments ago, visibly paled, their mouth opening and closing as if searching for a retort.

Shadowheart tilted her head slightly, a faint, dangerous smile playing on her lips. “It’s remarkable how much quieter some people can be after a simple… correction.”

Your ex stammered something unintelligible before hastily excusing themselves, practically fleeing from the room. The tension broke, and you couldn’t help but laugh—a genuine, bubbling sound of relief and delight. You turned to Shadowheart, your heart swelling with gratitude and affection.

“Thank you,” you said, grinning. “The look on their face… I’ll treasure that forever.”

Shadowheart leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a tender yet possessive kiss.

“I love you,” she said softly, her words a vow as much as a declaration.

Then she pulled back slightly, her eyes glinting with something dark and resolute.

“Hold my wine,” she said, pressing her glass into your hand. “There’s something—or rather, someone—I need to deal with.”

Before you could protest, she was gone, her dark hair flowing like a shadow cutting through the crowd. You watched her go, a mixture of admiration and mild terror filling you. Whatever she had in mind, you knew one thing for certain: no one would dare cross her—or you—ever again.

Jaheira:

The warm hum of Jaheira's household had always been a comfort to you. The chatter of the children, the occasional laughter, and the scent of a home-cooked meal mingled with the faint floral aroma of the plants she meticulously tended. You were setting the table, ready to sit down for the evening meal with Jaheira and her family, when an insistent knock sounded at the door.

The sound froze you in place. It wasn’t the friendly, casual knock of a neighbor or friend. No, it was sharp and demanding, like someone who felt entitled to be heard. Dread pooled in your stomach, but you swallowed it down. You weren’t that person anymore. You were stronger now, surrounded by people who cared for you.

Still, when you opened the door and saw your ex standing there, their familiar sneer twisting their features, that old fear reared its head.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you said, keeping your voice firm. “This isn’t the time or the place.”

Your ex scoffed, taking a step closer. “I’ll decide where I should be,” they spat. “We have unfinished business.”

Your heart raced, but you held your ground. “Leave,” you repeated, gripping the doorframe tightly. “Now.”

Their response was to shove you—hard. The force sent you stumbling back, and you hit the ground with a painful thud, the breath knocked out of you. Your ex marched inside, their eyes scanning the room like they owned it.

“Get out!” you shouted, your voice shaking more than you’d like.

The commotion brought Jaheira’s children rushing into the room. Jhessem and Tate were at your side in an instant, their small hands helping you sit up as they looked at you with wide, worried eyes. Fig, ever the fiery little warrior, grabbed her wooden sword and brandished it at your ex, her small frame trembling but determined.

“You leave them alone!” she yelled, her voice high-pitched but fierce.

Your ex laughed, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. But the laughter died when Jord and Rion stepped forward, their presence filling the room with an almost tangible force.

Jord, tall and broad-shouldered, the half-orc planted himself between the children and your ex.

“You’ve got two seconds to get out of this house,” he said, his voice low and rumbling with warning.

Rion, her sharp features twisted into a glare that could cut stone, pointed a finger at your ex.

“You do not belong here,” she said, her tone icy. “Leave before I make you.”

Despite the bravery of Jaheira’s children, you quickly pushed yourself to your feet, positioning yourself between them and your ex.

“This isn’t their fight,” you said firmly, your voice stronger now as you faced your abuser. “Leave them out of this. Leave us alone.”

Your ex sneered, taking a step toward you, but before they could say another word, the sound of measured, deliberate footsteps echoed from the staircase. Everyone turned as Jaheira descended, her eyes sharp as a hawk’s.

She took in the scene at a glance—the children bristling with protective anger, you standing tense and pale, and your ex, whose presence tainted the very air. Her expression darkened like a storm cloud.

“What is this?” she asked, her voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge.

Your ex, ever the fool, sneered. “Just having a little chat.”

Jaheira’s gaze flicked to you. “Are they threatening you?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous.

Before you could answer, your ex made the mistake of laughing. “This is none of your business, old woman.”

Jaheira didn’t respond with words. Instead, she raised a hand, her fingers curling in a subtle motion. Thorned vines erupted from the floor, twisting and writhing like living snakes. They wrapped around your ex with terrifying speed, pinning their arms to their sides and tightening until they yelped in pain.

“Get them out of here,” Jaheira commanded, her voice like steel.

The vines obeyed, dragging your ex toward the door. They thrashed and cursed, but the thorns only dug in deeper. With a final, satisfying motion, the vines flung them out into the street. The door slammed shut behind them, and the vines retracted as if they had never been.

Jaheira turned to you, her eyes softening. You immediately started to apologize, guilt bubbling up in your chest. “Jaheira, I’m so sorry—I never thought they’d come here. I never wanted to put you or your children in danger—”

“Stop being ridiculous,” she interrupted, her tone gentle but firm. She stepped closer, her hands cupping your face as she looked you over. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” she said, her hands dropping to your shoulders. “You’ve been through enough tonight. Rest now.”

“I’ll make some tea,” Jord said, already heading toward the kitchen with calm efficiency.

Fig tugged at your sleeve, her wooden sword still clutched in her hand. “We’ll always help you,” she said, her voice small but fierce.

You managed a smile, ruffling her hair. “Thank you, Fig.”

Jaheira wrapped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward the sitting area.

“You’re safe here,” she murmured, her voice steady and soothing. “No one—no one—will ever hurt you again.”

As you sank into the cushions, the tension slowly leaving your body, you felt the warmth of Jaheira’s family around you. They had rallied to protect you without hesitation, and for the first time in a long time, you felt truly safe.

Gale:

The cozy, labyrinthine aisles of Sorcerous Sundries stretched out around you, their shelves laden with ancient tomes and scrolls that hummed with latent magic. The scent of old parchment and ink filled the air, grounding and soothing. You and Gale had been immersed in your own quiet exploration, each lost in the treasure trove of knowledge. Every so often, you’d exchange a snippet of discovery—a passage here, a glyph there—but for the most part, it was a shared silence, warm and comfortable.

As your fingers trailed over the spine of a particularly aged tome, its title caught your eye: The Heart of Aetherial Bonds. Intrigued, you flipped it open and found a passage that immediately reminded you of Gale. The words were poetic, a reflection on the ties between love and magic, the way one could amplify the other. A small smile tugged at your lips. He would love this.

“Gale,” you called softly, tucking the book under your arm as you began to weave through the aisles, searching for him.

Your steps were light as you rounded a corner, spotting a familiar silhouette a few shelves away.

“There you are,” you began, but as the figure turned, the words died in your throat.

It wasn’t Gale.

Your blood ran cold as you recognized them—your ex. The person who had haunted your past, whose shadow you had thought you’d escaped. Their eyes lit up with a twisted glee, and before you could move, they stepped forward and grabbed your arm in an iron grip.

“I can’t believe it,” they said, their voice dripping with possessive satisfaction. “I’ve been searching for you, and here you are.”

“Let go of me,” you said firmly, trying to pull away. Their grip only tightened, the familiar pain radiating up your arm.

“You’re coming home,” they hissed, their tone leaving no room for argument.

Your heart pounded as you pushed against their hold, your voice shaking. “You’re hurting me—let go.”

But just as before, they didn’t listen. Their other hand reached to grip your shoulder, and for a moment, panic threatened to overwhelm you.

Then, the air shifted. A crackling sound filled the room, sharp and electric, like the air before a storm. A chill ran down your spine as the oppressive grip on your arm faltered. Both you and your ex turned toward the source of the energy.

Gale stood at the end of the aisle, his form illuminated by a pulsing, arcane light. His expression was unlike anything you had seen before—fierce, unyielding, his eyes glowing with a raw, dangerous power. Magic swirled around him, forming tendrils of energy that snapped and sparked against the air.

“Release them,” he said, his voice a low, commanding growl.

Your ex hesitated, their bravado wavering as the sheer intensity of Gale’s presence bore down on them.

“This isn’t your business, mage” they spat, but their voice lacked conviction.

“Oh, but it is,” Gale said, his hands lifting as the magic in the air intensified. “You’ve made it so.”

Before another word could be uttered, a blinding flash of energy erupted from Gale’s outstretched palms. The searing light enveloped your ex, their scream cut short as their form disintegrated into ash, leaving nothing behind but a faint, acrid scent and a smudge of dust on the floor. The magic dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, leaving the air still and silent.

Gale was at your side in an instant, his hands gently cradling your face as he looked you over.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice soft now, filled with worry.

You shook your head, tears welling up as the adrenaline drained from your body.

“I—I’m okay,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as the weight of what had just happened settled over you. The tension in your body melted as you buried your face in his chest, the faint scent of his robes and the comforting hum of his magic grounding you. Your shoulders shook as quiet sobs escaped, the fear and relief spilling out all at once.

“It’s over,” Gale murmured, his hand gently stroking your back. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

You clung to him, the sound of his heartbeat steady and calming against your ear. After a while, your tears slowed, and you pulled back just enough to look up at him. His face was a mixture of concern and quiet anger, his protective instincts still on high alert.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you said, your voice trembling but sincere.

He smiled softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “You’ll never have to find out.”

Astarion:

The lively hum of the tavern wrapped around you like a familiar cloak, its warmth and noise a welcome respite from the chaos of adventuring. You sat at a corner table with Astarion, his sharp wit and flair for drama turning a mundane evening into something delightfully entertaining. Together, you exchanged hushed gossip about the other patrons—their fashion choices, their whispered secrets—and laughed at his outrageous commentary.

“Oh, look at him,” Astarion murmured, tilting his head toward a burly man near the bar, his tone dripping with mock seriousness. “I’d wager he’s had one too many pies—and just one too many wives, judging by that tan line on his ring finger.”

You snorted into your drink, shaking your head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And yet, you adore me,” he said with a playful smirk. He lifted your glass with a flourish. “Speaking of adoration, I’ll be a dear and fetch you a refill. Don’t miss me too much.”

You grinned, watching as Astarion sashayed toward the bar, his charm radiating even in the simplest of tasks. Leaning back, you took a moment to enjoy the bustling atmosphere, but your peace shattered as a shadow fell over your table.

Your stomach churned as you turned to see your ex standing there, their presence as unwelcome as a dagger in the back. Without waiting for an invitation, they slid into Astarion’s vacated seat, their grin sending a chill down your spine.

“Well, well,” they said, leaning closer. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You stiffened, your pulse quickening. “Leave,” you said coldly, standing abruptly. “This isn’t the place, and I have nothing to say to you.”

But as you turned to leave, their hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking you back with a cruel force. A sharp yelp escaped your lips as pain flared along your scalp.

“You think you can just walk away from me?” they snarled, their grip tightening. You tried to swing at them, but panic muddled your movements, and they easily avoided your weak attempts to break free. The room seemed to close in, the once-lively chatter of the tavern fading into a distant hum as fear took hold.

And then, just as suddenly, the pressure on your scalp vanished. You staggered forward, catching yourself on the edge of the table, and turned to see your ex frozen in place. A knife glinted at their throat, a thin line of blood already welling against the blade’s edge. Behind them stood Astarion, his expression icy and predatory.

“I’ve been dying for a fresh kill tonight,” Astarion purred, his voice dangerously low. “And it seems you’ve volunteered. How considerate.”

Your ex’s bravado crumbled as they began to stammer, their hands raised in shaky surrender. Astarion’s grip on the knife didn’t waver, his sharp eyes flicking to you.

“Darling,” he said, his tone almost conversational, “this one’s causing you trouble, isn’t he?”

You met his gaze, your scalp still throbbing but your heart swelling with gratitude. Nodding slowly, you gave him permission with a single, deliberate motion of your head.

Astarion’s smile widened, and he dragged your ex out of the tavern with an almost casual ease, ignoring their sputtered protests. The crowd parted instinctively, sensing the danger in his stride. You stayed behind, nursing your scalp and taking deep breaths to steady yourself. The minutes felt like hours, but eventually, Astarion returned, brushing off his hands as though he’d simply taken out the trash.

“All taken care of,” he said, his tone light as he reached for you, cupping your face gently. “Let me see—did they hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly. “I—I could have handled it.”

Astarion raised an elegant eyebrow, his hand trailing down to rest on your shoulder.

“Oh, please, my love,” he said with mock exasperation. “You’re many things, but you’re not a liar. Let me have this one.”

You sighed, relenting. “Thank you, Astarion.”

He smiled softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. “You’re welcome, darling. But seriously, are you okay? That brute—”

You interrupted him with a nod, placing a hand over his. “I am now. Because I’m with you.”

His expression softened, the predatory edge replaced by something tender.

“Always,” he murmured, his voice a promise. With a protective arm around your waist, he led you out of the tavern, away from the echoes of the past and into the safe haven of his presence.

Wyll:

The ballroom of the Ulder Ravengard's estate was a vision of opulence. Crystal chandeliers cast shimmering light over marble floors polished to a mirror sheen. Noblemen and women in resplendent attire swayed to the music of a skilled orchestra, their laughter mingling with the hum of conversation. You and Wyll had been thoroughly enjoying yourselves, weaving through the room, gossiping about fashion choices and laughing at poorly-hidden flirtations among the elite.

Wyll, as always, moved with an effortless charm that drew people to him like moths to a flame. He introduced you to old friends, clinking glasses with ease, his laugh rich and genuine. His warmth was contagious, and you found yourself at ease in a social world that might have otherwise intimidated you. But when Wyll excused himself to chat with a group of friends near the wine table, you waved him off with a smile, happy to people-watch for a while.

A light tap on your shoulder pulled you from your thoughts. A hand reached out, beckoning you to the dance floor. You assumed it was a friend or an acquaintance and allowed yourself to be led. But as you turned, your stomach plummeted. Your blood ran cold.

It was them.

Your abusive ex stood before you, their grin as sharp and cruel as you remembered. It was a grin that promised pain masked under a veneer of charm. You instinctively tried to pull your hand away, but their grip only tightened, their fingers digging into your wrist.

“Don’t look so surprised,” they said smoothly, their voice low and venomous. “You didn’t think you could escape me forever, did you?”

“This isn’t the time or place,” you hissed, keeping your voice quiet to avoid drawing attention. “Let me go.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” they replied, their grip tightening further as they began to lead you into a slow, swaying dance. Their tone was soft, deceptively sweet, but their eyes glinted with malice. “You owe me this much, at least. Don’t make a scene. Wouldn’t want to embarrass your fancy boyfriend or his oh-so-important father, would you?”

Your heart raced as they leaned in closer, their breath hot against your ear.

“You think you’ve moved on, don’t you? That you can just walk away from what we had? You’re mine, and you always will be.” You tried to twist out of their grip, panic rising in your chest.

“Let go of me,” you spat, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay composed.

Their smile only widened. “Oh I don’t think so,” they said, their voice dropping an octave. “You’re going to regret leaving me.”

You braced yourself, half-expecting them to lash out. Your eyes squeezed shut as you prepared for a blow that never came. Instead, a loud, sickening crack echoed through the ballroom, followed by gasps from nearby guests.

Opening your eyes, you saw your ex sprawled on the polished floor, clutching their face. Blood gushed from their nose, staining their pristine clothing. Standing over them, his posture rigid with fury, was Wyll. His usual easygoing demeanor was gone, replaced by a simmering rage that made the air around him feel electric.

“Touch them again,” Wyll growled, his voice low and deadly, “and a broken nose will be the least of your worries.”

Your ex scrambled backward on the floor, their bravado shattered as they stared up at Wyll in terror. Before they could say anything, a pair of Flaming Fist guards appeared, having been alerted by the commotion. Wyll waved them over, his eyes never leaving your ex.

“Take them,” Wyll ordered, his voice firm. “They’re disturbing the peace.”

The guards didn’t hesitate. They grabbed your ex by the arms and hauled them to their feet, ignoring their sputtering protests and threats. As they dragged your ex away, Wyll finally turned to you, his expression softening in an instant.

“Are you alright, love?” he asked gently, stepping closer to cup your face in his hands. His warm brown eyes scanned you for any sign of injury.

“I’m fine,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky. “Wyll, I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to cause a scene—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You don’t need to apologize. This isn’t on you.”

The weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice, brought tears to your eyes. He pulled you into a tight embrace, his hand cradling the back of your head as he whispered soothing words into your ear. The rest of the ballroom seemed to fade away, leaving only the comforting warmth of his presence.

When you finally pulled back, he brushed a stray tear from your cheek and gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You’re safe now. That’s all that matters.”

You nodded, your breath evening out as the panic subsided. “Thank you, Wyll.”

He kissed your forehead tenderly before taking your hand in his.

“Come, my love,” he said, his voice returning to its usual warmth. “Let’s get you a fresh drink. We’ve both earned it tonight.”

And with that, he led you away from the gawking crowd, his protective arm wrapped securely around you, a silent promise that no harm would come to you as long as he was by your side.

Halsin:

The forest was tranquil, the golden light of the afternoon filtering through the dense canopy of leaves. You moved between patches of wildflowers, humming a tune as you gathered handfuls of blooms for the orphans back at the grove. The air was sweet with the scent of flowers and moss, and for a time, you felt entirely at peace.

Your basket was nearly full when a faint rustling behind you caught your attention. You paused, glancing over your shoulder, but the forest appeared empty. Shrugging it off as a rabbit or some other harmless creature, you bent down to pluck a cluster of bright yellow flowers. You didn’t notice the shaggy, wiry wolf stalking closer, its pale eyes fixed on you with an unsettling intensity.

Suddenly, the wolf sprang from the underbrush, a blur of fur and teeth. You gasped as it collided with you, the force of the pounce knocking you to the ground. Its heavy paws pinned you to the forest floor, the breath driven from your lungs as you struggled beneath its weight.

Before you could scream, the wolf began to shift. Fur melted into skin, limbs elongated, and in moments, you were staring into the face of your abusive ex. The recognition hit you like a blow to the chest, your blood running cold.

“You,” you breathed, horrified, and immediately began to struggle.

They leaned closer, their wild eyes gleaming with an unnerving fervor.

“Did you miss me, darling?” they crooned, their voice dripping with mock affection. “I’ve missed you so much. I couldn’t let you go, not like that.”

“Get off me!” you snapped, shoving at their chest with all your strength. Your heart pounded as you tried to call for help, but their hand clamped over your mouth, silencing you.

“Shh,” they whispered, their grin twisting into something darker. “Don’t make this difficult. You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

Panic surged through you, and you did the only thing you could think of—you bit down hard on the palm of their hand. They hissed in pain but didn’t flinch away, instead smirking as if they found your resistance amusing.

“Still feisty,” they murmured, their tone infuriatingly condescending. “I’ve always loved that about—”

Their words were cut off by a deafening roar, a deep, guttural sound that reverberated through the forest. A massive brown bear charged out of the trees, barreling into your ex with bone-crushing force. The impact sent them flying, their body slamming into the trunk of a tree with a sickening thud.

The bear was relentless. Your ex shifted back into their wolf form, snarling as they tried to defend themselves, but they were no match for the sheer ferocity of Halsin. His claws tore through fur and flesh with savage precision, his roar echoing through the woods as he drove your ex deeper into retreat. When the wolf finally lay broken and bloodied, it whimpered and slunk away, disappearing into the underbrush.

Halsin remained in bear form for a moment longer, his massive chest heaving as he watched the wolf flee. Only when he was certain the threat was gone did he shift back, his towering frame immediately rushing to your side.

“You’re hurt,” he said urgently, dropping to his knees and cradling your face in his large hands. His amber eyes scanned you for injuries, his expression a mixture of worry and fury. “What did they do to you?”

“I’m okay,” you said, your voice trembling as the adrenaline began to fade. “I’m just… shaken up.”

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. His embrace was almost crushing, but you didn’t mind—you needed the grounding warmth of his presence as much as he needed the reassurance that you were safe. You buried your face against his chest, clinging to him as your body trembled.

“I should have been here sooner,” Halsin murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple, then your forehead. “I’ll never let anything like this happen to you again.”

You rested your head against his chest, letting his warmth and steady presence soothe your frayed nerves. “You were here when I needed you,” you reassured him. “That’s all that matters.”

Halsin pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair. He didn’t let go, and you didn’t ask him to. In that moment, being in his arms was the safest place in the world.

[If you or anyone that you know of has experienced behaviors like this please do not hesitate to contact your local authority]

oof that was a bit of a heavy one but i hope you guys enjoyed it - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

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deonsx · 1 day ago

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Hii, this is my first time requesting but I love your writing 🔥🔥 Can I request bllk boys (specifically Bachira and Rin 💥) with their s/o being recorded/violated in public? This happened to me sometime this year and I wanted some comfort. It's okay if you don't feel comfortable writing this, so no pressure. Thank you!!

First of all, I am very sorry about the situation you are experiencing, I hope this post makes you happy +Nagi is here

Rin Itoshi

The two are walking through a bustling city square, hand in hand, when Rin notices something unsettling a man with a phone pointed suspiciously in their direction. His sharp gaze locks onto the individual

“Stay close to me” he mutters, his grip tightening around her hand. The man’s behavior becomes increasingly obvious, his phone aimed squarely at her. Rin’s blood boils. Before his girlfriend can say anything, Rin strides toward the man, his towering frame radiating menace

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Rin’s voice is low but filled with an edge that cuts through the noise. The man stammers, attempting to excuse himself, but Rin is having none of it. In one swift motion, he snatches the phone, his speed honed from years on the field. A quick check reveals the worst photos and videos clearly taken without consent

Rin’s jaw tightens as his anger surges “Delete it. Now” The man hesitates, but Rin’s piercing glare and firm stance make it clear there’s no room for negotiation. With a trembling hand, the man complies, erasing every file under Rin’s watchful eye satisfied but still seething

Rin hurls the phone back at the man, his expression ice-cold “If I see you again, you’ll regret it” He turns to his girlfriend, his anger melting into concern. “Are you okay? Did he touch you?” His hands cup her face, scanning for any signs of distress

“I’m fine Rin Thank you…” she whispers, her voice shaky. Rin pulls her into a protective hug, his tone softening “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Ever”

From that moment on, Rin becomes even more protective, ensuring she’s always safe when they’re out together. Though shaken, his unwavering support reassures her, proving just how deeply he cares

Bachira Meguru

Today, he had whisked his girlfriend to a lively park filled with street performers and food stalls. His playful energy was infectious, and she couldn’t help but laugh at his antics as they explored

However, Bachira’s keen eyes noticed something unsettling a man nearby with his phone out, clearly focused on his girlfriend. The easygoing smile on Bachira’s face faded slightly as he tilted his head, his sharp instincts kicking in “Hey, babe” he said softly, his usual sing-song tone subdued. “Stay here for a sec, ‘kay?”

Before she could ask why, Bachira was already moving toward the man, his steps light but purposeful. The guy didn’t even notice until Bachira was right in front of him, his golden eyes gleaming with a dangerous edge “Yo~!” Bachira chirped, a mischievous grin on his face. “Whatcha filming?”

The man stammered, caught off guard by Bachira’s sudden approach. He tried to deny it, but Bachira leaned in, his smile widening in a way that wasn’t entirely friendly “Lemme see” he said, plucking the phone from the man’s hands with startling speed. His eyes scanned the screen, confirming his suspicions—photos and videos of his girlfriend

Bachira’s grin didn’t waver, but his tone darkened. “You know, it’s kinda creepy to record people without asking. Don’t you think?” He quickly deleted everything, his fingers moving deftly over the screen. Once done, he handed the phone back with a casual shrug, as if it were no big deal

“But hey, if you’re bored, you should try filming squirrels or something. Way more fun.” His voice was light, but his eyes held a warning that made the man quickly retreat. Returning to his girlfriend, Bachira’s usual playfulness was back, though a protective arm found its way around her waist

“Problem solved!” he said cheerfully, nuzzling her shoulder “You okay? That guy was super weird, huh?” She nodded, still a bit shaken, and Bachira pulled her closer, his warmth reassuring

“Don’t worry~” he said with a wink “Nobody’s gonna mess with my favorite person. I’ll scare ‘em all away if I have to!”

Nagi Seishiro

They were browsing through a small outdoor market when Nagi noticed something strange a guy lingering nearby, his phone tilted suspiciously in their direction. Nagi’s sharp instincts caught on immediately

“Hey” he said softly, nudging his girlfriend closer to him. His usually laid-back tone was heavier, more serious “Stay near me for a second” Before she could ask why, Nagi’s eyes locked onto the man. The stranger’s phone was unmistakably aimed at her. A rare spark of irritation flared in Nagi’s normally placid demeanor

In a few long strides, Nagi was in front of the guy, his tall frame towering effortlessly. He tilted his head slightly, his pale eyes half-lidded but sharp “What’re you doing with that?” he asked, his voice calm yet laced with an unmistakable edge. The man fumbled for an excuse but Nagi didn’t wait. With surprising swiftness, he snatched the phone. A quick swipe revealed photos and videos of his girlfriend

“That’s annoying” Nagi muttered, his brows furrowing. Without hesitation, he deleted every file, his movements deliberate. Once done, he handed the phone back, his expression unreadable “Don’t do it again,” he said simply, his voice low but firm “Next time, I won’t be this nice”

The man quickly disappeared, and Nagi returned to his girlfriend, his face softening “Sorry about that” he said, his hand slipping into hers. “Didn’t mean to make a scene. You okay?”

She nodded, though her hands trembled slightly. Nagi noticed and pulled her into a gentle embrace, resting his chin on her head “It’s fine” he murmured, his voice soothing “No one’s gonna mess with you when I’m around”

Enjoy!

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neptilius · 21 hours ago

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I feel like a lot of people write gojo when he’s being playful or sarcastic but could you write moments where he’s serious or he’s genuinely having a heart to heart with the reader?

yesss i love these concepts! in my opinion i think he’s sexier when he’s more serious because we rarely see that side of himmmm 😛

“i quit.”

satoru froze in the middle of adjusting his jacket, the sound of your voice cutting through the quiet in the room.

he turned to look at you, his brow furrowing as confusion painted his features.

“what?” he asked, his tone laced with disbelief. his eyes narrowed as he studied your face, trying to make sense of what you just said.

“i quit,” you repeated, your voice steady but quiet.

you were done. done with the constant pressure, the constant fear of what might happen next. done with the world you had found yourself in, a world of curses, jujutsu sorcery, the thought of losing yourself completely, of dying before you even had a chance to live, had become too much to bear.

satoru’s eyes softened, but the confusion never left. “babe… you can’t just quit. not like this. not when things are tough.”

“and why not?” you shot back, unable to keep the frustration out of your voice.

“why do you think i have to keep doing this? why do i have to keep risking my life, getting dragged into these fights, and walking away with more scars every time? i’m just… tired of almost dying.”

your words hung heavy in the air between you two, and for a moment, the room felt suffocating.

“you’re not the only one who’s tired,” he said softly, but there was a firmness beneath his words that didn’t match the softness of his expression.

he took a step toward you, like he was trying to reach out to you in the only way he knew how. “but quitting isn’t the answer. when things get tough, you don’t just quit.”

he didn’t understand. how could he? he was Satoru Gojo. nothing fazed him. he was invincible, or so it seemed. but you weren’t like him. you didn’t have that same untouchable strength. you were just human, and your body was starting to feel the toll of everything you had been through.

“you wouldn’t understand anyway,” you muttered, barely able to meet his gaze. “i don’t know why i even bothered telling you.”

the words felt like a slap in the face to him, and you immediately regretted saying them. his eyes hardened, but the anger didn’t burn, not the way it normally would when he felt disrespected.

“don’t say that,” he replied, his voice low, almost too gentle.

“i may not understand what you’re going through, but that doesn’t mean i don’t care. i’m not gonna let you throw everything away just because it’s hard. if you quit, you’re just letting the world win.”

“maybe that’s what i want,” you shot back, the bitterness slipping out before you could stop it.

“maybe i want to stop fighting. i’m exhausted, satoru. fighting, training, always putting myself in danger for some cause that doesn’t even feel like mine. all i’ve done is survive—barely. and for what? to risk my life over and over again? i’m done.” you exhaled sharply, trying to hold back the tears that had been threatening to spill. “i just don’t care anymore.”

satoru’s expression shifted. there was no anger, no frustration anymore, just a deep sadness. he stepped closer, closing the distance between you two until there was barely any space left. he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt.

“i get it,” he said softly, the words so different from the usual brashness of his character. “i get that you’re hurting. but you can’t quit. not like this. not because it’s hard. i won’t let you give up on yourself. i can’t.”

he paused, his thumb gently brushing your skin as his eyes locked onto yours, as if searching for something.

“look, i don’t know what it’s like to be where you are. i don’t know what it feels like to be on the edge of giving up, but i do know this: you matter to me. a lot. and i’ll fight beside you because i care about you. i care about you more than you know.”

the sincerity in his voice cut through you like a knife, and despite yourself, your heart ached.

“i’m not letting you quit,” he continued, his words steady. “if you want to stop fighting, that’s fine. but you’ll have to do it with me. i’m not going anywhere.”

you could feel your chest tighten, the weight of your emotions threatening to break free. you had been so consumed by fear, by exhaustion, that you had almost forgotten the one thing that truly mattered. not the curses, not the missions, but the people who cared about you. and the one person who was always there, even when you tried to shut him out.

you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a shaky breath. “i just don’t know if i can keep doing this,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “i’m scared.”

“i know you are,” he replied, his hand gently cupping your face.

“and that’s okay. but you don’t have to be scared alone. i’m here, and i’m not letting you go through this on your own.“

you stared at him, the weight of his words settling in your chest. maybe you couldn’t quit. not like this. not when you had someone who would stand by you, even in your darkest moments. and maybe, just maybe, that was enough to keep going.

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo x reader #jujutsu satoru #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru

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woniiez · 3 days ago

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𝙏𝙄𝙀𝘿 𝙏𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 S.mg

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. song mingi x fem!reader

𝗦𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮/teaser. You always thought of Mingi as nothing more than the spoiled son of a wealthy CEO. He was the kind of guy you’d hear about in the tabloids, always caught in the middle of some scandal, some drunken night out, or some rumored fling with the next “it” girl. His last name alone commanded respect, but it also made him untouchable in your eyes. He was everything you despised about people with too much money—arrogant, entitled, and far too used to getting whatever he wanted.

For you, the Song family was just another name tied to wealth and power. Your own father was a successful businessman, a man who’d built an empire from the ground up. But there was a difference between your family and his, your family had always struggled to maintain what they had, keeping the balance between status and reality. The Songs, on the other hand, seemed to live in a world that operated on a completely different set of rules—one that never knew struggle.

It wasn’t that you hated Mingi, per se. You just couldn’t stand the way he moved through life with no real sense of accountability. His arrogance was like a cloud surrounding him, blocking out everything. Every time he spoke, you could feel the cockiness in his tone, the way he knew his words would hold weight because of who he was. It made you want to roll your eyes.

And yet, in some strange part of you, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you sometimes. It wasnt anything serious, but in those moments, you saw the softness beneath his ego and arrogance the vulnerability he hid behind the confidence. You could see it when you both stood in the same room, but neither of you ever addressed it. Instead, whenever you were forced to interact it would be like a cat fight.

It was easy, then, to pretend he didn’t matter when your families were never really close. You had different friend groups, different circles. And when you had to endure forced family gatherings, he’d always disappear into the background, a silent figure in the corner, looking as uncomfortable as you felt.

But that all changed the day your father came home with a grim look on his face, news that would change your life forever.

Your father sat you down, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. His hands were clenched around the glass of water in front of him, his eyes looked tired, worn down. You’d never seen him like this before. Your father was always in control, always the one with the answers. But today, his voice was weaker than usual as he spoke, and you realized, something was seriously wrong.

“Sweetheart,” he began, his tone soft but firm, “the company… it’s in trouble.”

Your stomach dropped. You didn’t need to hear more. You knew what this meant. Your father’s empire,the business that had been the backbone of your family for years, was facing bankruptcy. But you would never expect the next words that came out of his mouth.

“Your mother and I have spoken to Mr. Song,” he continued. “We’ve come to an agreement.”

“What agreement?”

The words that he forced out sounded like they were being pulled from deep inside your father, something he was going to hate saying, but knew he had no choice. “You’re going to marry Mingi.”

|| 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁. series

𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲. arranged marriage!

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. will be updated for every chapter.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩. (Open! Comment below if you wanna be added) @minkioswoo @yunhogrippers @hee-yunie @juicy-red @bee-gremlin @memorabxlia @yizhou-time

(hii I’m back. This took me really long to plan and then write, I’m not sure why I decided to make a series since I started writing just this year but I really love reading the series other people write and post and I haven’t read something with this genre (series) on mingi so I just started writing and saw it going somewhere so ig that’s how it came to be. I did take help from a few friends to improve the writing since I don’t have an extensive vocabulary so it’s better to read. Also i just wanna say that this is a 100x better than my first fic cause this took forever to write with making sure the paragraph formation was put together, vocab, and planning out the whole story line to make sure the first chapter would flow well with the others. I really hope you like this!)

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭.𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗲

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clarii · 2 days ago

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Always Near

Summary: You’ve always been there for JJ, but when he pushes you away, everything changes. With time and distance, the weight of unspoken feelings grows heavier for both of you. Can broken bonds be mended, or will the past stay in the way?

Pairings: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, tension, hurt/comfort, and a soft, heartfelt ending.

Author’s Note: This is my first published story, and I’m so excited to share it with you! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it. Feedback is always welcome! Also, I hope you guys had a great holiday!

The summer heat was unrelenting on the Outer Banks, but the Pogues were used to it by now. Sunburns and sweat were part of the deal, as was the endless chatter among the group. You were nestled into your usual spot on the HMS Pogue, sitting across from JJ Maybank. His sun-bleached hair glinted in the sunlight, and you couldn’t help but grin as he tried—and failed—to tie a fishing knot properly.

“Need help, pretty boy?” you teased, your voice light, even though your heart felt heavy with unspoken feelings.

“Got it,” he replied, flashing you that mischievous smirk that never failed to make your stomach flutter.

Everyone knew about your feelings for JJ. It was as obvious as the freckles on his sun-kissed face. You made no attempt to hide it, either. Why would you? From the matching bracelets you had made for the two of you to the way you always called him nicknames, it was clear you adored him. JJ was your world, even if he didn’t see it that way.

The Pogues teased you mercilessly for it, though never in a mean-spirited way. Even JJ seemed to tolerate your affection, brushing it off with jokes or lighthearted jabs. But deep down, you couldn’t help but wonder if he ever thought of you the way you thought of him.

The incident with Barry changed everything.

Tensions were high after the fight to get JJ’s stolen money back. Bruised and angry, JJ lashed out at anyone who got too close. You’d followed him after he stormed off from the group, wanting to make sure he was okay.

“JJ, wait,” you called, jogging after him. “You can’t just run off like this.”

He whipped around, his blue eyes blazing with frustration. “Why not? What do you care?”

Your heart sank, but you tried to push through his anger. “Of course I care. You’re—”

“Enough!” he snapped, his voice cutting through you like a knife. “Stop trying so hard, okay? Stop always being near me, always fussing over me. It’s suffocating.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and cruel. You stared at him, feeling the tears prick your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “Fine,” you whispered. “I’ll stop.”

And you did.

After his outburst, you’d done what he asked. You pulled away. Stopped calling him nicknames. Stopped showing up at the chateau with snacks or little gifts. And JJ didn’t come after you, at least not at first.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t bother him.

“Something’s wrong with you,” John B said one night as they sat on the porch, watching the stars.

“I’m fine,” JJ replied, fiddling with the bracelet you’d made him.

John B raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been off for weeks. You’re not yourself.”

JJ hesitated, staring at the worn beads on his wrist. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” John B pressed. “You miss her.”

JJ sighed, leaning back against the railing. “Of course I miss her. But it’s not like I can just fix it. I screwed up.”

“So, apologize,” John B said simply.

“It’s not that easy,” JJ muttered.

“Sure, it is,” John B shot back. “Stop being a coward and tell her how you feel. You’re miserable without her, JJ. Everyone can see it.”

JJ didn’t respond, but that night, as he lay in bed, John B’s words echoed in his mind.

It wasn’t easy to get you to talk to him again.

The first time he tried, you brushed him off.

“Can we talk?” he’d asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

You didn’t even look at him. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”

“Please, Y/N.”

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes flicking to the bracelet still on his wrist, but then you shook your head. “No, JJ. You told me to stop, so I did. Now you have to live with it.”

Weeks later, after that conversation you found yourself back on the beach with the Pogues. The tension had eased slightly, but things between you and JJ were still strained.

As the group sat around the fire, JJ caught your eye from across the circle. This time, he didn’t ask for permission. He just stood up and walked toward you, his expression more serious than you’d ever seen it.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, “can we talk? Please?”

You sighed but stood up, letting him lead you a little way down the beach.

“What do you want, JJ?” you asked, your voice tired.

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed on the sand. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you asked, crossing your arms. “For telling me to stop trying? For making me feel like I wasn’t enough?”

JJ winced. “For all of it. For being an idiot. For pushing you away when all you were trying to do was help.”

You blinked, taken aback by his honesty.

“I didn’t mean any of it,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I was angry, and I took it out on you. And when you left, it made everything worse. I didn’t realize how much I needed you until you were gone.”

“JJ…” you started, but he cut you off.

“I know I don’t deserve it,” he said, stepping closer. “But I need you to know that I’m sorry. And I—I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, but I was too scared to say it. Too scared to admit that you’re the best thing in my life.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “You love me?”

JJ nodded, his blue eyes shining with emotion. “Yeah, I do. And I know I don’t deserve another chance, but if you give me one, I promise I’ll never take you for granted again.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, your heart pounding. Then, slowly, you reached out, your fingers brushing against the bracelet on his wrist.

“I loved you then,” you said softly. “And I love you now. But if you screw this up again, Maybank, I’m done.”

JJ’s face lit up with relief, a grin spreading across his lips. “I won’t. I swear, sunshine.”

And as he pulled you into his arms, the sound of the waves crashing behind you, everything felt right again.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank #outer banks #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you

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undercoveravenger · 3 days ago

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Criminal Intent

Criminal!Soap x Detective!Male!Reader

A/N: Okay, first time writing for COD and it’s an AU with a probably very out of character Soap. This is potentially a continuing series with an option for poly!141 if you guys’re into it. Feel free to send requests for the 141 or for this au in the meantime

-----

It’s the silence that bothers him, really. He’s been in plenty of interrogation rooms with plenty of detectives sitting across him. He’s had officers beat him and bribe him and try to weasel information out of him a dozen different ways, but he’s never had someone quite like you.

The first thing that crosses his mind when you close the heavy door behind you is that you’re fine as hell. All strong jaw and pretty eyes and a white button up shirt stretched tight across a thick chest and broad shoulders and he just knows you could fold him in half if you wanted to. The next thing he notices is that you’re quiet. You settle into the seat across from him with spread legs and an open case file without so much as glancing at him and if he didn’t know you were trying to put his whole goddamn organization behind bars-

“Can we get this over with?” he finally says, if only to get you to look away from the fucking paperwork for a moment.

Your eyes are almost bored when they meet his and Johnny’s just decided they’re his new favorite color when you speak and his brain about short circuits at the sound of your voice. “Oh,” you say, though you don’t sound surprised. He definitely does not think about the other ways he could get you to say that. Definitely not. “Ready to squeal?”

He swallows thickly, knows you want him to give up Price and Gaz and Ghost. “I’m no rat,” he says, lips curling up into that charming smile he’d put to use hundreds of times over as he leans in, “But I bet there’s plenty a’ other things you could do that’d get me squealin’.”

“Pass.” You don’t seem affected in the slightest as your eyes drop back to the folder in your hands, deft fingers flipping pages and his mouth waters at the thought of those fingers fisting into his hair. “I told them you wouldn’t be worth my time,” you said, tipping your head toward the one-way mirror that lined one edge of the interrogation room. “Too damn stubborn to get yourself a good deal in exchange for a little information.”

He huffs, a little petulant from your disinterest, “Stubborn’s one word for it. Loyal’s another.” He puffs his chest out a bit. He knows he’s good looking, been told so all his life, so you’re either not into blokes, or you’re lying. “‘S a good trait for your future husband to have, ain’t it?” There it is, he thinks with a grin as your eyes shoot up to meet his, thrown off for the first time since you set foot in the room.

“Wha-” you cut yourself off, schooling your surprise back into that boring deadpan expression and Johnny almost pouts as you do. “That’s rather inappropriate.”

Johnny shrugs, leans forward to rest his forearms against the table, handcuffs clinking as he moves. His voice lowers to nearly a pur, “Could do some other things that’re inappropriate if you want? Wouldnae even have to take these off,” he jingles the cuffs pointedly. He tips his head toward the mirror, “Doubt you’d want your supervisors here for that though.”

Your pupils are slightly dilated when you look at him and he can see how tempted you’d be by him if he’d met you anywhere else. God, the things he’d do to you if you’d just wandered into the bar above the safehouse downtown - He shakes it off, knows he can’t let himself get distracted. Knows he just has to stall for time ‘til Price has his bail paid and he can disappear again. But the idea of getting closer to you? Of having you to himself, even for a little while? Oh, that’s a chance he can’t pass up, even if Ghost and Price’ll be pissed at him later.

“I’d think about a deal,” he finds himself saying, the words foreign on his tongue and he’s almost as shocked to be saying them as you look to be hearing them. “My time for yours. I won’t give you my boys, but I’ve got plenty more information that’d help you lot out that I could pass along if you agree to meet me when I’m out.” He continues, hand jerking forward to catch your chin and keep you from looking to the officers behind the mirror for guidance, to keep you looking at him and him only. “Just you. No backup, no wires, nothing. Just the two of us.”

He can feel your tension against his fingertips, can feel the way you ache to get approval from your higher ups before responding, a foxhound not used to being pursued by the fox without so much as a huntsman to guide you, can see the way your fingers tighten against the folder in your grip, knuckles nearly going white with the pressure. Can see the moment when your resolve cracks and you nod. It’s small and barely there, but you agreed all the same whether or not your superiors would’ve approved it.

You’re up out of your seat and crossing to the door as soon as he releases you and he knows what mess’ll be waiting for you but all he can think about is what it’ll take to draw you to him, to bring you close to his side and keep you there and how helpful it’ll be to have a soon-to-be former detective working for Price and his syndicate and how he’s going to have so much fun breaking you.

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mischiefinbloom · 2 days ago

Note

Heyy could you do a Regulus Black x fem reader? Maybe a sunshine and grumpy dynamic? I’m in love with your writing

hi, lovely! thank youu for the request! you're making me blusshhh 🤗🤗 hope you enjoy it! ᡣ𐭩

୧ ‧₊˚ little miss sunshine

₊⊹ summary: at hogwarts, you and regulus black struggle with unspoken feelings, while your brother james watches closely. as emotions and fears collide, will you both find a way to face the shadows of the past and the uncertainty of the future?

₊⊹ pairing: regulus black x reader, no use of y/n

₊⊹ warnings: reader is james's sister, regulus is a little coward who struggles to confront his own feelings, and overprotective james (and sirius). i think that's it!

₊⊹ author's note: i HATE that tumblr doesn't let me use my cute dividers because of photo limits!! ugh, improve, tumblr!

hogwarts was especially cold that november afternoon. the winds seemed to cut through the castle's stone walls, carrying with them a sense of urgency no one could quite explain. you were walking through the corridors of the third floor, your steps echoing in harmony with your distracted thoughts. the dim light of the torches cast dancing shadows on the walls, but for you, it was just another ordinary afternoon in a place that, despite its magic, no longer seemed so mysterious.

it was when you turned a corner that you saw him up close for the first time. regulus black, leaning against the stone wall as if he were carrying the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. his impeccable posture, the perfectly tailored slytherin uniform, and that distant gaze... he looked like a painting, but not the warm or inviting kind. regulus had the kind of beauty that intimidated, the kind of presence that made anyone hesitate before saying something.

but you weren’t just anyone.

when you saw him there, with an expression as lost as it was impenetrable, you felt an almost natural urge to break that silence. that’s when you noticed he was holding a piece of parchment in his hands, his fingers tense, as if he was on the verge of crumpling it completely.

"need help?” you asked, your voice gentle but clear enough to make it hard for him to ignore.

he lifted his eyes slowly, as though weighing every word he might say. “no.” the response was short, almost rude, but there was something in his tone that didn’t quite match the disdain he seemed to want to project.

you could have walked away, could have simply continued on your way and left regulus with his problems, but there was something about him that sparked your curiosity. not because he was a black, nor because he was james’s best friend’s younger brother, but because, no matter how hard he tried to appear untouchable, regulus black seemed deeply human.

“alright,” you replied with a slight smile, not insisting but also not hiding the calmness you carried with you. "if you ever need anything, just let me know!"

there were no more words between you in that moment. regulus stayed where he was, and you continued on your way. but somehow, that brief encounter seemed to plant a seed that only time could reveal.

it was only the next morning that coincidence—or perhaps destiny, as poets might say—decided to cross your paths again. ending charms class, professor flitwick announced that regulus black would need a tutor. his performance, though acceptable in some areas, was below expectations in advanced spellwork. and to your surprise, yours was the name the professor called for the task.

“you have the patience and talent to help, miss potter,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “and I believe mr. black could learn a lot from you.”

regulus didn’t say a word. he merely maintained his impassive expression as you nodded.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

the first meetings between you were, to say the least, tense. regulus seemed determined not to make anything easy. he answered your questions with monosyllables, avoided looking directly at you, and rarely stayed longer than necessary.

"you know, if you actually paid attention, you'd improve quicker," you commented once, trying to break the uncomfortable silence as he attempted to execute a basic transfiguration spell.

he didn’t reply immediately. his eyes were fixed on his wand, his jaw clenched. when he finally spoke, his voice came out low and controlled. "I don’t need your help for this."

you just smiled, used to the walls he tried to build around himself. "then why are you here?"

he didn’t answer.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

as the weeks passed, something began to shift. though regulus still maintained his facade of indifference, you noticed small cracks in his armor. he no longer complained as much when he made mistakes and, occasionally, allowed his frustration to show instead of hiding behind silence. in an especially memorable moment, he let out an almost imperceptible 'thank you' after you corrected his posture during a complicated spell.

it was like watching a puzzle slowly come together, piece by piece.

but for regulus, it was more complicated than it seemed. he was used to distrusting everyone, to seeing kindness as a means to an end. but you... you were different. there were no ulterior motives in your gestures, no hidden judgments in your words. and that unsettled him.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

the days at hogwarts were always hectic, but you knew you couldn’t escape your older brother’s relentless curiosity for long. james had a particular talent for noticing any change in you, even when it was something you weren’t entirely sure how to put into words. that afternoon, while you were reviewing your notes in the gryffindor common room, he approached with the subtlety of a mountain troll.

"you’ve been spending a lot of time outside the tower lately." the statement wasn’t exactly a question but an invitation for explanations. james sank into the armchair beside you, his eyes gleaming with a mix of concern and mischief only he could muster.

"can’t I study in peace now?" you retorted, trying to hide your smile.

"study?" he raised his eyebrows dramatically. "I know it’s not that. lily mentioned you’ve been spending a lot of time in the library. and you know who else has been there?" he paused for dramatic effect. "regulus black."

the name lingered in the air like a spark about to ignite a fire. you didn’t lift your eyes from the parchment, but you felt james’s piercing gaze.

"professor flitwick asked me to help him with charms, james," you finally responded, keeping your tone calm. "that’s all."

"that’s all?" he repeated, leaning forward as if hoping to extract some hidden truth. "I can’t believe you’re actually wasting your time on him. he’s a black. you know what that means, don’t you?"

you raised your eyes to meet his, and there was something steady in your gaze that made james hesitate for a moment. "I know very well who he is, james. but maybe you don’t."

he frowned, clearly uncomfortable with the idea that you might be defending regulus. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

"it means you can’t judge someone just by their last name, even if that someone is your best friend’s brother or part of a family that’s done terrible things. regulus isn’t perfect, but neither is anyone else. he’s... more complicated than he seems."

james was silent for a moment, the words weighing heavier than usual. finally, he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "I just don’t want you to get hurt."

you smiled softly, touching his arm. "I know. but trust me, james. I know what I’m doing."

despite the confident tone in your voice, you knew that trust was still something you were building—for yourself as much as for james. because, even as you tried to see past regulus’s barriers, you weren’t entirely sure if he would ever let you through them.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

the next morning, you walked through the halls of hogwarts with a stack of books balanced in your arms, feeling the weight not just of the paper, but of a thought you couldn’t shake: regulus black. no matter how much you tried to convince yourself he was just a student struggling with charms, there was something about him that made you want to know more. it wasn’t just curiosity; it was a persistent feeling that he carried something he’d never shared with anyone.

when you arrived at the library, there he was, sitting at the same table as always, his expression alternating between focus and frustration. regulus had a habit of running his fingers through his hair when he was irritated, and at that moment, he looked like he was on the verge of pulling it all out.

you approached quietly, placing the books on the table. he looked up, clearly surprised by your arrival, but quickly returned to his guarded posture.

"I brought some things that might help," you said with a light smile, motioning to the books.

"you didn’t have to go through the trouble," he replied, his voice low and slightly rough.

"I wanted to. and frankly, it looks like you need it," you countered, pulling out a chair beside him.

he didn’t respond immediately, just watched as you opened one of the books and started flipping through it. there was something unsettling about the way you seemed so comfortable sitting beside him, as if the walls he’d built around himself meant nothing to you.

"have you always been like this?" he asked suddenly, his voice almost a whisper.

you looked up, confused. "like what?"

"so... persistent."

the comment caught him off guard as much as it did you. he quickly averted his gaze, as though regretting having said something so personal.

"I don’t know if it’s persistence," you replied after a moment, with a calm smile. "but I think I like to believe no one is impossible to reach."

he let out a dry, humorless laugh. "then you believe wrong."

"I don’t think so." you tilted your head, trying to catch his gaze. "you might be reserved, regulus, but that doesn’t mean you’re impossible to understand."

for a moment, he was silent, as if processing your words. then he turned his attention back to the open book, his shoulders tense.

"if you’re so determined to understand me, you might want to reconsider. it’s not always worth it."

"that’s something I get to decide," you said gently, but your determination was unmistakable.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

the nights at hogwarts often invited quiet reflection, but the gryffindor common room rarely adhered to that rule. on that particular evening, you sat near the hearth, reviewing notes while james and sirius engaged in a game of wizard’s chess, their concentration so intense that the pieces almost seemed to sweat with the effort.

“so, how’s it going with the little black?” sirius asked suddenly, his eyes never straying from the board.

james sighed heavily, crossing his arms. “don’t start, sirius.”

“what?” sirius responded, raising his hands in mock innocence. “I just find it curious that my adorable little sister is spending so much time with regulus, of all people.”

“he’s not as bad as you two make him out to be,” you replied, not looking up from your parchment.

james shot you a wary look. “he’s a black. that’s all you need to know.”

“you know that’s not fair,” you said, finally meeting his gaze. “sirius is a black, and look where he is now. regulus is different. he just... didn’t get the same chance to choose.”

“maybe he doesn’t want to choose,” james retorted, though his voice lacked its usual conviction.

“or maybe he’s waiting for someone to show him that it’s possible,” you responded calmly.

sirius let out a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it. “good luck with that. regulus has always been good at pretending he doesn’t need anyone.”

“maybe he needs someone more than he lets on,” you said, returning to your notes, though your thoughts were far from them.

james and sirius continued their banter, but your mind was elsewhere, lingering on regulus—the way he kept everyone at arm's length, how he seemed so adept at hiding his true feelings. you didn’t know why it mattered to you so much, but you were certain you wouldn’t give up.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

the days that followed brought small but noticeable progress. regulus remained his usual guarded self, but there was a shift in his demeanor, as though he was slowly becoming accustomed to your presence. perhaps it was the way you never faltered in the face of his cold indifference, or how you remained determined to treat him with kindness despite his sharp responses.

on a particularly overcast afternoon, you found regulus in the library, as you often did. he was hunched over a parchment, his quill moving with meticulous care, as though he were trying to will the ink into perfection.

“hey, regulus,” you greeted, setting your own books down on the table and taking a seat beside him.

he didn’t answer right away, but his eyes flicked toward you briefly before returning to his work.

“if it’s another book about charms, you can save yourself the trouble,” he said, his voice flat and detached.

you let out a soft laugh. “actually, no. I thought we could try something a bit more practical today.”

he raised an eyebrow, finally turning his gaze toward you. “practical how?”

“like actually casting spells, instead of just studying them.” you tilted your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “unless, of course, you’re afraid of making mistakes in front of me.”

“I don’t make mistakes,” he replied automatically, but a faint flush crept into his cheeks, betraying him.

you suppressed a laugh, picking up your wand. “great. then show me the levitation charm.”

he hesitated for a moment, as though weighing the worth of indulging you. but, to your surprise, regulus drew his own wand and murmured the incantation. the feather in front of him lifted a few inches before tumbling back onto the parchment.

you said nothing at first, simply raised your wand and repeated the charm, making the feather float and spin gracefully in the air. when you glanced at regulus, you noticed the frown on his face, his dissatisfaction with himself palpable.

“it wasn’t bad,” you said sincerely. “you just need to relax a little more. spells work better when you’re not so tense.”

“I'm not tense,” he retorted, though there was a hint of irritation in his voice.

you smiled, leaning slightly forward. “if you weren’t, you would have nailed it on the first try.”

he shot a look in your direction, but this time, something was different. a faint, almost imperceptible curve tugged at the corner of his mouth, as if he were trying not to smile.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

as the weeks unfolded, the dynamic between you and regulus gradually shifted, becoming almost comfortable. he remained distant, but there were moments when the ice between you seemed to crack, revealing fleeting glimpses of vulnerability that he couldn't fully conceal from you.

on one particularly cold evening, you found him once again in the library. this time, he was alone, devoid of books or scrolls, simply staring into the emptiness before him.

"is everything alright?" you inquired, sitting beside him without waiting for an invitation.

he took a moment before responding, his gaze fixed on an invisible point in the distance. when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, tinged with uncertainty.

"sometimes, I wonder what I'm doing here," he confessed, not meeting your eyes.

you furrowed your brow in confusion. "at hogwarts?"

"no," he replied, his voice soft. "here. with you." he turned to face you, and there was something in his expression that made your heart tighten. "I don't know why you care so much. no one ever has."

his words struck you unexpectedly, and you could see the vulnerability in his eyes. regulus wasn't accustomed to acknowledging his weaknesses, not even to himself.

"perhaps because I see something in you that you don't see," you answered gently.

he let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "you're fooling yourself."

"maybe," you conceded, but there was an unwavering determination in your voice that made him pause. "but that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you both more profound than any words could express. then, regulus broke the stillness, his gaze shifting away, his expression retreating once more into its familiar mask of indifference.

"you're infuriatingly persistent," he murmured, though there was a trace of warmth in his tone that hadn't been there before.

"and you," you replied with a soft smile, "are infuriatingly stubborn."

for an instant, you could have sworn you saw the faintest curve of a smile tug at the corners of his lips before he concealed it once more beneath his habitual mask.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

the following days were a careful dance between maintaining your friendship with regulus and balancing the constant concern from james. you felt the weight of each conversation, each glance from your brother, as though he were trying to decipher whether your intentions were truly safe. james never directly told you to stay away, but the worry in his eyes spoke louder than any words.

on the other hand, regulus seemed increasingly uncomfortable with the growing closeness between you two. he continued attending your meetings in the library, but his posture was more tense, his comments shorter, and his once-guarded glances were now aimed anywhere but at you.

one afternoon, while reviewing charms, you decided to finally confront him about his growing distance.

"regulus," you began, your voice soft but firm, "what’s going on?"

he didn’t look at you immediately, his eyes fixed on the parchment in front of him. when he finally spoke, his voice was cold, almost cutting.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"you know exactly what I mean." you crossed your arms, leaning slightly forward. "you've been avoiding me, regulus. you can hardly look at me."

he finally lifted his eyes, but what you saw there wasn’t anger or coldness; it was fear.

"I'm not avoiding you," he said, but the lack of conviction in his voice betrayed him.

you sighed, shaking your head. "you can lie to yourself, but not to me."

he closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply before meeting your gaze again. "maybe it’s better this way. maybe I should just stay away."

his words hit you like a punch, but you didn’t retreat. "why? what have I done to deserve this?"

he hesitated, the internal struggle clearly written on his face. "it’s not you... it’s me."

"that’s a ridiculous excuse, regulus." your voice trembled slightly, but you kept it steady. "you’ve been pushing me away because you're afraid. afraid to open up, afraid to care."

"and what if I am?" he shot back, his voice finally rising. "what if I’m afraid? because that’s what you do. you come into my life, break down all my barriers, and I don’t know how to deal with that!"

the silence that followed was deafening. you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the confession torn from him like it was too painful to say.

"I never wanted to hurt you," you said, softly but with the strength needed to reach his heart.

he turned his gaze away, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I don’t know how to be... this. how to be someone who deserves you."

"you don’t need to be perfect, regulus. you just need to be you."

he looked at you again, and for a moment, it seemed like he was about to say something more. but then he closed off, muttering something inaudible before quickly standing up and leaving the library, leaving you alone with the weight of the conversation.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

later that evening, you found james in the common room. he was laughing at something sirius had said, but when he saw you, his expression changed instantly.

"what’s wrong?" he asked, rising to approach you.

you hesitated for a moment before collapsing onto the couch next to him, the words spilling out in a rush. you told him about regulus, about his hesitant confession, and the fear that seemed to control him.

james stayed silent as he listened, his jaw clenched and his brows furrowed. when you finished, he ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling with his own emotions.

"I don’t like this, you know? you and him. I don’t think it’s a good idea."

"I know," you said, tired. "but I care about him, james. and I think he cares about me too, even if he’s too afraid to admit it."

james let out a long, heavy sigh, shaking his head. "you know, sometimes you’re just as stubborn as I am."

you smiled faintly but didn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue.

"if you really believe he’s worth it, then go ahead. but if he hurts you..." james stopped, his expression darkening. "he’s going to have to deal with me."

you nodded, touched by your brother’s protectiveness, even if he didn’t fully approve of your choices.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

the library was nearly empty, the sun sinking low on the horizon, casting long shadows between the shelves. you found him sitting at the same table as always, but something was different. regulus appeared drained, his shoulders slumped, his hands gripping the parchment in front of him as though it were the only thing anchoring him to reality.

you approached slowly, the sound of your footsteps the only break in the quiet. he didn’t lift his head until you were seated, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of guilt and resignation.

"I didn’t think I’d see you here anymore," he said, breaking the silence, but not the tension that lingered between you.

he didn’t meet your gaze, his fingers tapping on the parchment. "I didn’t plan to come."

you waited, sensing there was more beneath his words. regulus black never did anything without a reason, and something in his expression suggested he was teetering on the edge of something deeper.

"I don’t know how to start," he admitted, finally looking at you again. his eyes were darker than usual, heavy with something he couldn’t share.

"then don’t start. just say it," you encouraged gently, your voice soft but firm, urging him to break down the walls he had built.

he let out a short, humorless laugh, the sound hollow in the stillness of the library. "you make it sound so easy."

"because it is, regulus. you just have to be honest."

he shook his head, his lips pressed into a tight line. "honesty isn’t something I was taught to value. I was raised to lie, manipulate, hide. and now... now, I don’t even know who I am anymore."

the words hit you like a blow, and you could feel the raw pain in his voice. but you didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch at the vulnerability he was offering, however painful it was for him.

"maybe it’s time to find out, regulus. maybe it’s time to stop being who they want you to be and start being who you really are."

he closed his eyes, his shoulders trembling slightly as though he were fighting something inside. "I tried to push you away because I thought it would be better that way. I thought if i didn’t care, I couldn’t hurt you. but the more I push away, the more I realize that... I can’t. I can’t forget you."

the words came out with such intensity that they almost stole the breath from your lungs. you knew regulus had feelings for you, but hearing it directly from his lips, laden with so much pain and hesitation, was overwhelming.

"why do you think you’d hurt me?" you asked, leaning forward slightly, as if you could bridge the emotional gap he’d created.

"because it’s what I do," he replied, his voice low and rough. "everything I touch shatters. my family, my brother, my future... everything. I’m not someone who deserves... this."

"this what?" you pressed, your voice breaking slightly. "reg, tell me. be honest."

he hesitated, his eyes locking onto yours with a kind of unbearable intensity. "you. I don’t deserve you."

the silence that followed was suffocating. you could feel the weight of his words, the pain behind them, and above all, the fear that regulus carried with him like a shattered shield.

"don’t you see?" you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady. "I chose you. with all your imperfections, your fears, your insecurities. I chose you because I see who you really are, and that’s more than enough for me."

he laughed again, but this time, there was something broken in the sound. "and what if I can’t live up to that? what if I fail you, just like I failed everyone else?"

you moved closer, reaching out to touch his hand. he hesitated, but didn’t pull away, his eyes locked on the gentle touch of your fingers.

"then fail," you said, your voice full of emotion. "fail as many times as it takes. but stop hiding, regulus. stop pushing me away, because I’m not going anywhere."

he finally broke, his shoulders slumping as a tremulous sigh escaped his lips. "I’m so scared..."

"I know," you replied, squeezing his hand gently. "but you don’t have to face it alone."

and in that moment, something shifted. it wasn’t a dramatic break or a sudden revelation, but a quiet understanding that passed between you. regulus was still broken, still battling his own demons, but for the first time, he was allowing you to help him carry the weight.

when he finally looked up at you again, there was a new determination in his eyes. a glimmer of hope that, though small, was enough to begin with.

"I don’t know how to do this, I..." he admitted.

"then let’s figure it out together," you said, and for the first time, he didn’t pull away.

the touch of his hand on yours felt like the only bridge between fear and desire, between pain and hope. regulus was vulnerable, more exposed than he had ever allowed himself to be, and you could feel the fragility in every ounce of courage he was trying to summon.

he didn’t pull away, didn’t shy away from the touch, and for the first time, something inside him seemed to give way. the look he gave you, full of insecurity, was also a silent plea. "don’t let me go."

without a word, you leaned in slightly, your face only inches from his. the rhythm of your hearts seemed to align, as though the world around you had faded away, leaving only the two of you in that moment of pure vulnerability.

regulus’s breathing was uneven, as though the weight of his own uncertainty was choking him, but there was something in his eyes—something deep and desperate—that made you hesitate for no longer. your gaze dropped to his lips, the same lips that were so close, yet so far away, like a promise that had never been kept.

he swallowed hard, his eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes, the tension in the air almost palpable. you could see the inner struggle on his face, the battle between the fear of surrendering and the desire to finally give in to what you both knew was inevitable.

"I’m not sure if..." he started to say, but his words trailed off as you, gently and softly, pressed your lips to his.

the kiss was tentative at first, a light touch, as though you both were testing the boundaries of what was safe. but soon, the tenderness grew into something more urgent, more profound. regulus, hesitant at first, began to surrender to the kiss, his fingers tightening around yours, and the kiss deepened, as if every movement was an attempt to unravel the knots of fear that had bound him for so long.

the taste of his kiss was both familiar and new—a blend of frustration and yearning, of insecurity and hope. it was as if, in surrendering to you, he was allowing himself, for the first time, to be more than the expectations placed on him. more than the mistakes of his past.

regulus’s hands, once tense and restrained, now moved with greater confidence, his expression, once closed and distant, now open in quiet surrender. he pulled you closer, as if to reassure himself that you were there, that you weren’t leaving, and you gave yourself to him with the same intensity, meeting his desire and his fear with the same certainty.

when you finally parted, your breath was heavy, ragged, and the world seemed to pause for a moment. regulus kept his eyes closed for a beat, as if allowing himself to feel that moment completely, before opening them and looking at you with something that, for the first time, was pure.

"I don’t... I don’t know what this means," he murmured, his voice trembling.

you smiled softly, your fingers brushing his face gently. "we don’t need to know right now, regulus. we’ll figure it out together."

and, for the first time, he didn’t pull away, didn’t try to protect himself. the insecurity was still there, but there was something new—an inkling that maybe, just maybe, the fear was no longer stronger than the connection beginning to grow between you.

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #james potter #sirius black #grumpy x sunshine #marauders #timothée chalamet

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w1shfullthink1ng · 1 day ago

Note

can i get a nika fic based on the song back to friends by sombr PLEASE 🙏🙏

HOW CAN WE GO BACK TO BEING FRIENDS?

nika mühl x fem!reader

DESCRIPTION/ you & nika have always been close but how close is too close? y’all eventually let y’all’s bodies take over and when the morning comes you don’t know what this means for you two now.

WARNINGS/ language, suggestive, smutt, p eating (reader & nika receiving), slight f!ngering? (reader receiving), mentions of alcohol, angsty, happy ending!

first time writing something suggestive so please bear with me😔😔😔

MUSIC BLASTING, LIGHTS LOW…the atmosphere loud and full of life. You, nika and a few of y’all’s friends decided to go out as it’s been long overdue especially with balancing life & work. Yall settled on a local bar, a few drinks in and y’all where gone. The alcohol taking its course in y’all’s bodies. You and nika have always been close y’all first met 3 years ago y’all’s first year at uconn and have been roommates/best friends since then.

But there’s always been that unspoken tension, the looks, the touches that linger for a little longer than needed. It was even worse when y’all where alone there was times where the moment was just intimate. But y’all never spoke about it not wanting to “ruin” the friendship you guys have built. “Come on come dance with me” before you could respond nika was pulling you out of the barstool and to the dance floor. You laugh as the alcohol made her much more carefree. Y’all dance to the song bodies up against each other as the music blasts.

The world seemed to slow down when y’all locked eyes there it was. that unspoken tension. It’s like there was no one else in the room. Her grip around your waist tightens a little. “You look beautiful tonight..” she moves a strand of hair out of your face her touch lingering, her gaze goes down to your lips. The moment was cut off by one of y’all’s friends suggesting y’all do shots.

As the drinks keep coming so does the tension, the room felt hot as you two got more and more touchy. You exuse yourself to the restroom, nika following soon after. You smile softly as your gaze meets hers through the bathroom mirror. You reapply your lipstick as she wraps her arms around your waist and her chin rests on your shoulder. “Can I have some?” she asks “innocently”. “mhm” you reply, you turn to hand her the lipstick but she kisses you. You’re momentarily stunned. She just has a casual smirk on her face “What shade is this? it’s pretty” she asks like she didn’t just stop your train of thought for a moment. “yeah- it’s uhh..pillow talk deep from charlotte tilbury.” “always loved the color of your lips” she admits.

touch my body tender ‘cause the feeling make me weak.

without thinking you smashed your lips onto hers. Your hands in her hair, her hands around your waist. She pins you against the wall sliding her tongue in your mouth in a fight for dominance, she easily over powers you, gripping your neck gently moving your head back so she can deepen the kiss. She had you right where she wanted you. Her knee slides in between your legs making you even needier if that was possible. She pulls away at a gasp for air. Lipstick smudged like modern art. She wipes some of the lipstick that smudged from your bottom lip.

You fix your hair and dress making yourself look presentable. As nika made some bullshit exuse on why you two had to leave to y’all’s friends and before y’all knew it y’all where off in a cab. The messy make out in the car lead into stumbling out of the cab and into y’all’s shared apartment.

kicking off the covers.

She pushed you into the wall, kissing down your jaw & neck. She grips your thighs lifting you up with ease as you wrap your legs around her waist. Neither of yall didn’t dare to say a word just letting y’all’s bodies do the talking. Your back sinks into the mattress as she climbs on top of you. The kisses where full of need and want.

She kisses down you neck, to your chest, down your stomach till she lands in between your thighs, she looks up at you for silent permission. You nod giving her the go ahead, she studies your expression making sure there’s no sense of hesitation or discomfort when she doesn’t find any that’s all she needed. She lifts your dress up making it sit above your waist as she kisses on your thighs.

I see the ceiling while you’re looking down at me.

Her fingers tease you through the thin fabric of your panties making you whine. Nika laughs softly “So fuckin’ wet hmm”. “Nika please” you whimper, it comes out more whiny then you intended but you where needy. “shhh i’m getting there” she places a soft kiss on your core through the thin fabric making you moan softly she gently slides your panties down your legs. She grabbed your thighs to spread your legs apart. She was in awe of you “So pretty bebo..”

Her mouth mouth finally comes into contact with you, you let out a moan your body feeling like it was on fire in the best way possible. She works at you like it was her job and she wanted a raise. Her tongue glides across your folds making you squirm. “so good for me” she murmured against you. She was driving you crazy. You where a moaning mess it wasn’t long before she had you moaning her name and begging for more.

“please nika please please please” you squirmed you weren’t exactly sure just what you where begging for but nika delivered holding your thighs to keep your legs open as she applied the right amount of pressure at the perfect speed. Your hands in her hair tugging it slightly to ground yourself.

She rubbed her fingers against you just to tease you and bring you over the edge. Your legs shaking unable to stop the sounds from coming out of your mouth. “come on I got you baby..” and like it was on command she pushed you over the edge slowly her pace down riding you out of your high.

You swore that you died for a second then came back, you where seeing stars, nika laughs as she places gentle kiss on your jaw “You back on earth?” she teases. “oh fuck you” you snap back playfully. She gives you that same look she did just a few moments ago “oh yeah? why don’t you fuck me yourself” you laugh taking that as a challenge flipping the two of you over so you’re on top “there we go pretty girl” her hands go to your thighs caressing them as you slip out of your dress.

She watches you with hungry eyes her look almost taunting. You slip her out of her dress throwing it off to the floor somewhere. Kissing down her chest, abs and thighs, you slide her panties off immediately diving in like you where starved “oh fuck” she moans out gripping your hair guiding your head just where she wanted you. You swirl your tongue around earning a moan from her “just like that keep going bebo good job”. She guides you through everything still in control.

“don’t stop…go a little faster for me come on” she pulls your hair making you whine, you do as your told eager to please her. You bring her thighs over your shoulders pulling her closer to you. She grips your hair harder as she moans your name once you bring her over the edge.

You climb back up flopping next to her, both of you panting and satisfied. “well shit…” she pants out. “guess your mouth is good for something other than your yapping” she laughs “oh shut up!” you hit her playfully with a pillow. Y’all where both pretty exhausted after the events of the night so y’all fell asleep pretty quickly.

how can we go back to being friends?

The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache and a fuzzy brain. You groan softly rubbing your eyes adjusting to the light from the morning sun. You sit up a little and the memories from last night came flooding back as you find yourself entangled with your best friend, clothes scattered on the floor. The realization hitting you like a truck. You pull the covers over yourself as nika stirs up. She sits up too her back against the headboard. The same realization washes over her “oh shit..” she mumbled running her hands through her messy hair.

when we just shared a bed.

You sit in silence for a few moments the tension in the air thick and not the kinda tension from last night. no. this was a “wtf do I do” kinda tension. You where the first to speak “so last night was a-“ “one time thing.” she finishes. “right…is that what you want?” “it’s what’s practical. we live together we can’t just..” she sighs “we can’t what?” you egg on “we can’t let things get weird okay. i’m not gonna throw away our friendship over some drunk hookup” you scoff softly “is that all this was to you? a drunk hookup?” “yes.” “bullshit. you and I both know it was more than that. we’ve had unspoken tension for awhile now”

How can you look at me and pretend?

“tension or not if this becomes a regular thing then what? hmm? we’re just fuck buddy roommates yeah. real classy” she says sarcastically “God nika no. I mean I don’t know okay. maybe we shouldn’t have hooked up in the first place.” “okay so first you where saying that it wasn’t just meaningless sex now you’re saying you wished we didn’t have it at all?? I mean you’re fuc-“ you cut her off with a kiss. “just shut up.”

I’m someone you’ve never met.

She looked a little dumbfounded. “okay. umm..i’m too hungover for this where the hell are my clothes” she stumbles out of bed. “nika. we need to talk about it.” “I can’t not now we should just pretend it never happened and move on with our life’s it was a drunken mistake let’s leave it at that.” she says while getting dressed. Her words stung a little. was it really that meaningless?

You watched as she leaves your bedroom. You couldn’t shake off the icky feeling she left you with. You sigh and take a shower needing to wash your worries away…and the smell of alcohol. You two spent the whole day avoiding each other which was a little hard considering y’all lived together but y’all somehow managed.

It was late at night and you where tossing and turning unable to sleep you hated this whole situation you where someone who needed to talk things out and you hated going to bed angry. Unable to sleep you slip out of bed and to the kitchen to get some melatonin. You try to reach the top shelf, Nika would normal help with these things..you climb onto the counter.

“Bebo get down your gonna hurt yourself..” nika grabs your waist steading you on the counter so you don’t fall as she grabs the melatonin bottle for you “can’t sleep?” she puts her hands on either side of the counter trapping you in. You ignore her still upset from earlier you pop the melatonin in your mouth then try to hop off the counter but she grips your waist putting you back down on the counter.

“Hey no. we’re gonna talk I don’t want you going to bed angry” “oh so now you wanna talk? about what it was a drunken mistake and we should leave it at that remember?” you quote her. “Look I was being an asshole earlier i’ll admit that” “yeah you were.” she cups your face “And you have every right to be angry..look I just don’t know how to communicate well you know this..I just shielded myself because I got scared of what last night really meant” her voice was vulnerable you rarely saw this side of nika she was pretty guarded so you know she was serious when she got vulnerable.

“It wasn’t just meaningless sex that was real..and there was clearly emotion behind it..look I know I said I didn’t wanna throw away our friendship over this but truth is i’ve fell for you hard. and there’s no hiding or denying that now..” “nika..why didn’t you say anything?” “beacause I was scared of taking a chance and it not work out I don’t wanna lose you all together” “you could never lose me niks..don’t miss out on something…on us just because of fear” “I know I was being an idiot” “I’ll say” you laugh “alright alright not too much i’m here now and if you’re the risk i’m gonna take it.”

A/N ahhhh!!!!! I was literally shaking in my boots and laughing at myself the whole time because i’ve never written smutt and I could not take myself seriously kudos to everyone who can teach me your ways🤝 but thank you so much anon for this request! I hope I delivered 🙂‍↕️

thanks for reading, love you always

wish signing off🪽

#nika muhl x reader #nika mühl #nika muhl #wnba #friends with tension #somber

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peachiejeongin · 3 days ago

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Brushstrokes of Us | Hyunjin

Synopsis: You have been stressed to no end due to finals week, and Hyunjin has a colorful remedy.

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers, non-idol au

Warnings: Mentions of stress/anxiety, I wrote this before buzz-cut Hyunjin made an appearance so he does have long hair in the fic

Notice: Hello, my love! I absolutely LOVE this request! It is so cute, and writing the fiction warmed my heart!! I did my best to make your imagine come true, and I hope you enjoy it! <3 (If you saw this post twice, no you did not :) )

The whirring of the espresso machine hummed faintly in the background as you pressed your forehead against the cool countertop. The cafe where you worked part-time was quiet, save for the occasional customer stopping by for a late night snack. The weight of the week settled heavily on your shoulders; it was finals week at the university, so you had to balance a plethora of tests on top of work and an ever-growing list of responsibilities. The worries of the week were an ocean, and you were drowing under the waves.

Your phone buzzed against the counter, the vibration pulling you from your thoughts. You glanced at the screen.

hyunnie: 'I know you're tired, but i want you to come over.' you: 'Not tonight, Hyunnie. I wanna go to bed early.' hyunnie: 'I promise it's worth it.'

A quiet sigh escaped your lips at the instant response; there was no arguing with Hyunjin when wanted to see you, more so now since you had barely made time for him due to the weight of everything crushing your schedule. Yet, through the storm of it all, Hyunjin's persistence was never overbearing; it was always wrapped in concern and always grounded you in the toughest of spots.

That is what made it so impossible to refuse him.

---

Twenty minutes after your shift ended, you found yourself standing at the base of Hyunjin's apartment building, the chill of the December night nipping at your cheeks. The faint scent of snow lingered in the air, and your breath came out in soft puffs, floating away into the cold atmosphere. Before you could knock, the door swung open, revealing Hyunjin.

His black hair was messy, as if he had been running his fingers through it all night, and he was dressed in his usual cozy attire—a loose-knit sweater that hung off one shoulder and soft joggers. He grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe.

"You came," he said simply, his voice warm with satisfaction.

"You didn't really give me a choice," you replied, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed the sarcasm of your tone.

"Come on in. I have a surprise." He reached his hand out, his long fingers intertwining with yours as he led you inside.

The apartment smelled like him—clean, with a faint trace of the vanilla candles he had always insisted made the place feel "homier;" however, instead of stopping in the living room like usual, he guided you up the narrow staircase leading into the attic.

"Close your eyes," he mumbled, his breath fanning lightly against your ear.

"Hyun-"

"Trust me."

You sighed but obeyed, letting him guide you the rest of the way. The wooden steps creaked beneath your feet, and you felt the warmth of the attic before visualizing it.

When you opened your eyes, taking your surroundings in, the sight before you left you breathless.

The room had been transformed. Candles flickered softly on every available surface, their golden light reflecting off the rustic beams of the attic's ceiling, blankets and pillows were haphazardly arranged in a cozy pile, and fresh flowers—specifically lillies and roses—were scattered in mismatched vases. The faint scent of acrylic paint mingled with the floral aroma, and in the center of it all stood a massive blank canvas, flanked by jars containing vibrant paints and brushes—the source of the aforementioned aroma.

"I know you've been overwhelmed recently," Hyunjin told you, his demeanor quiet yet steady. "You're always taking care of everyone else, so I thought tonight...maybe I could take care of you."

His words wrapped around your heart like a warm embrace, the thoughtfulness of his gesture hitting you all at once.

"Hyunnie, this is..." You trailed off, searching for the right words to express your gratitude.

"It's just like us," he finished for you, smiling shyly. "It's bright, but it's a little messy, too."

Your chest tightened, a rush of emotions rendering you temporarily speechless. Instead of speaking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms tightly around him. He stiffened for just a moment before melting into the embrace, his chin resting against the top of your head.

---

As the two of you painted together, your mind wandered to all of the little moments that had brought you here—each brushstroke evoking memories that made your heart ache in the best way.

Like the time Hyunjin had dragged you on a spontaneous shopping trip.

"I need an honest opinion," he had stated, holding up two wildly different jackets; one was a sleek, leather one, and the other one was white and puffy, almost resembling a marshmallow.

You had laughed, pointing to the leather one.

"Unless you're planning on exploring the Arctic, that's the better choice." He had pouted, throwing the marshmallow jacket over his shoulder.

"But it looks so warm."

"Warm isn't fashionable."

"Warm is necessary!"

You had spent hours wandering through stores, Hyunjin holding up ridiculous items and contemplating on whether or not to buy them just to make you laugh. At one point, he had placed a wide-brimmed sun hat on your head and insisted you had missed your calling as a movie star, snapping pretend photographs of you like he was paparazzi. By the end of the day, he was carrying all the bags, insisting it was his duty to do so because you were his, "voice of reason," for the day, making sure he did not spend too much and that he did not buy anything he did not need.

You also thought about the time you had gone on a road trip together and ended up having to share a bed at the hotel due to a booking error.

"This isn't weird, right?" he had asked, lying on his side as far away from you as possible so not to make you uncomfortable.

"Not at all," you lied, though the closeness made your heart race.

The bed was small, and at some point, you had woken up to find him curled up against you, his arm slung casually over your waist. His hair had fallen into his face, and he looked so peaceful, so utterly unguarded, that you had not been able to stop yourself from brushing it back.

---

The sound of Hyunjin's laughter brought you back to the present. He was sitting right beside you, staring at the canvas with his face streaked with paint—blue on his cheek and yellow on his chin.

"This is a masterpiece," he declared, gesturing to the chaotic mix of colors and handprints covering the canvas.

"If by masterpiece you mean disaster, then yes; it is definitely a masterpiece."

"It's art!" he argued, smirking.

You could not help but laugh, but the sound faded when you caught the way he was staring at you—soft and lingering, as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

"I've missed you," he told you, his tone much gentler than his previous playfulness. The sincerity made your throat tighten. "You've been distant."

"I didn't mean to be," you admitted. "Life has just been... a lot."

"I get it," he responded, his fingers moving a stray strand of hair out of your face. "But you never have to go through it alone. I'm always gonna be here for you."

Something in the way he spoke made your chest pang. For a moment, you just looked at him, taking in the softness of his features. The candlelight played in his eyes, and vulernability was etched into his expression.

"I've missed you too," you whispered.

A small smile quirked at his lips, and the silence stretched between you, warm and heavy with unspoken melodies. Finally, he broke the prolonged solitude.

"Can I tell you something?"

You nodded, your heart thumping in your chest.

"I don't want to be just your friend anymore," he confessed. "I want to be more." The confession hung in the air, fragile but unwaivering.

"I want to be the person you come to when things get hard, the person who makes you laugh when you forget how to, the person you come home to. I want to be yours."

Affectionate tears blurred your vision, and before he could say anything else, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was soft and shy, almost unsure due to the suddenness, but the feelings blooming between you and Hyunjin were undeniable.

When you pulled back, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes filled with wonder.

"So...does this mean...?"

"It means I feel the same way," you chuckled softly.

His grin was brighter than any of the candles in the room, and when he kissed you again, it felt like the emergence of a new life you had both been dying to enter into all along.

---

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght, @amararosesblog (If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

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mythicmanuscripts · 22 hours ago

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I cannot get enough of your writings!! I need to read your thoughts on something: so we know that Aemond has a complicated relationship with intimacy and sex and in my head he sees it as something sinful because of the terrible first experience and because it's something he associates with Aegon's lustful nature (and he hates being compared to him). Besides he's been brought up by Alicent the Prude in the Faith which is one more reason for him to view it in negative way. Can you write a piece on him gradually changing his view after getting married and having a loving wife who he finds safety in?

Oh I love this question!!! I think it's the perfect way to start off my return, I hope you lads enjoy!!

NSFW sweet sub!Aemond below the cut :))

(this ended up being so much longer than I thought, good lord I guess I really missed writing 😂)

So firstly, I think the key to this is to make him feel comfortable. So many people have tried to take his eye patch off before or try to get him to loosen up but that doesn’t work at all.

Aemond needs someone to fully respect all his boundaries and in fact go out of their way to make sure he’s comfortable before he’ll start opening up more. The same goes for intimacy and sex.

For a long time he’ll be scared to sit close to you without being fully clothed and the way to break down those walls isn’t to try to push him it’s to show him love and care and respect. You spend as much time as you can with him in environments which cannot possibly turn sexual. You read in the library with him until the early hours of the morning, go for walks on the grounds, train together, etc. You really start to get to know him then, and he's honestly just so surprised at how much he enjoys it all?

At first he thought you were just saving face, asking to walk with him and read with him and sit next to him at dinners because you would soon marry him and you wanted to play the part of the adoring fiancé. He never expects to actually love it, nor for you to love it either.

Part of him was expecting all of those outings to stop once you two were officially married, and when it didnt he was so pleasantly surprised. You no longer needed to look in love, and yet you were willingly spending hours at a time with him.

As he starts to relax around you, the intimacy builds and he doesn’t even realise it at first. How could he? He doesn't even necessarily view you as a wife at this point but more as just... his person? He knows he is understood and liked by you, he knows he can talk about his day and his worries and hear genuine counsel that will not be spread to the others.

You keep yourself very controlled. You could immediately see that he was very uncertain and almost skittish around intimacy or anything sexual at all (maybe at the last minute you even pay off the officiant to have them 'forget' to ask Aemond to kiss you at the end of the ceremony). For a long time you actually wonder if he might be asexual, or perhaps just not attracted to your gender. But honestly you didnt even mind, because he was genuinely wonderful to be around. You enjoyed being with him, in whatever way he liked, even if those ways were entirely unsexual.

It's Aemond who starts seeking the intimacy and in fact he doesn't even realise it? There's something about how understanding and calm you are around him that makes him forget himself and makes him not calculate every move. He sits down next to you on a bench in the gardens and sits closer than he had before, your shoulders against each other. He hadnt even realised until you stood up and he loss the warm pressure of your arm against his. You offer him your hand when it's time to leave and he takes it, honestly gripping it a little too tight but you don't complain, in fact you don't even acknowledge it beyond a shy smile.

It's this slow build up that means Aemond is completely unprepared when he realise that actually he is very attracted to you. When he thought of sex and desire, he always went back to those nights in the brothel, to the vulnerability and the discomfort, to the way all the working women would giggle at him like they were all in on some secret joke he'd never understand.

It's nothing like that with you, not at all.

You hold his hand and lean against him and read him your favourite stories and he just feels so warm. He doesn't even realise the desire pooling in his belly, he has much much more important things to focus on than that.

The first time you kiss him, it's in the library. He's leaning against you and listening to you read to him, an activity that very quickly became one of his most cherished. You finished the story and you closed the book and he wanted to say thank you, only, he couldnt stop looking at your lips. He's never actually wanted to kiss someone, ever, but now he's stuck, unable to look away.

You notice of course, and you ask him if you can kiss him. Even though you think he clearly wants to kiss you, you decide to phrase it as you making the first move anyway. He can only nod, and when your lips meet he's so gentle, almost skittish? You end up just sitting there, kissing each other, slowly letting Aemond warm up to it. It's not just an awkward peck, you ensured Aemond wouldnt have to go through that by not kissing on your wedding, now Aemond gets to indulge as much as he wants, as much as he's comfortable.

That's the way the whole relationship progresses. As you get closer you don't stop all the other things, and that's what really makes him feel so comfortable? Because yes you're his wife and he wants to kiss you and fuck you and do all those things, but he's also you're friend and he wants to hear about your day and complain about his brother and ask for advice. It's keeping those aspects that makes him feel so safe, that ensures it's not vulnerable.

Alright lads that's already objectively too long so I'll leave this there, but I do LOVE this idea and would love to discuss it more :))

#sub!aemond #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #prince aemond #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd #house of the dragon imagine

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fireheartpages · 3 days ago

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enough | b.d.

bodhi durran x reader one. two. part three. four. five. summary: everyone has their demons, you just chose to run from yours. straight to basgiath war college. and definitely not towards the grinning tall, dark, and handsome marked rider that seemed too kind to be in a hardened place like the rider's quadrant. leave it to you to catch his attention, but will it be enough to bond a dragon? word count: 2.2k notes: second person pov with she/her pronouns for the reader, as well as a dirty-dancing inspired stolen nickname and a last name (no y/n in this house). pretty sure i've just started making shit up about the empyrean universe when i needed to. i want a dragon real bad after writing this. half of this was written while wine drunk!

He owed Ané his first born after that balm. And he might just have to give it to her, because the soft smile that had bloomed on your face had been worth every coin he'd owed Ané. Every last one.

It had been two days now, and he hoped it had been enough for you. Enough to heal your hands, at least just a little bit. Enough to get you bonded to a dragon.

He looks for you on the field, but your squad isn't here. Yet. You would come. They can't be missing a while squad. Right?

Right. He felt like an idiot with the way he had panicked.

"You're acting like one," Cuir chimes in helpfully. Bodhi just sighs.

Professionalism is key right now. He can't spare a second glance at you right now. He's an acting Executive Officer, and it's an important day in formation--

You look really pretty. Your hair is braided back, and the way your flight leathers cling to your figure--

"Seriously?"

Bodhi just sighs, and settles in for a long day.

You rub Ridoc's back as he empties his stomach onto the roots of the tree beside you, grateful for the stomach of steel years of being tossed around on choppy waters had granted you. The warmth of the sun did nothing to bite the cold of the morning, the freshly October air sharp against your skin.

You hand Ridoc a water canteen as you try to pay attention to Kaori at the front, but maybe you're hallucinating because there is no way he just told you to listen to your heart while bonding a dragon. That cannot be enough. That cannot be real advice.

It's not long and far too soon before the professor offers you good luck and turns away, releasing you to a riot of dragons that could have every intention of eating you alive rather than bonding you. Second squad turns to one another, no more wise cracks or well wishes left to say. With a stay alive order from Ridoc, you're off. And then you're traipsing through the valley, and honestly, just hoping for the best.

You pass by a few reds and oranges--terrifying fucking things, and if there were any room for doubt, you'd be thinking you're not cut out for this. There's no way you can be allied with something that vicious.

A blue and a brown both stop in front of you, and the brown cocks its head as if you're a puzzle it needs to solve. Not that one, you realize. Neither of them. Your gaze stays glued to the floor the entire time, and it's far too long for your liking before they both meander away.

It's a few deep breaths before you're steady enough to continue on.

The only color left for you to see is a green, and you know--you just know one will be yours. Or maybe you really want it. You want a dragon with cunning. A green is your best bet.

Another brown crosses near you, and your heart picks up again. It's followed by a green, and you freeze. This is it, this--

They both pass right by you.

Oh. Okay. No problem, yeah. It's just not that green.

You've got to keep moving. There are more, and you know it, because you haven't bonded yet. You've watched dragons launch into the sky with newly minted riders on their back, counting how many are off. How many are left. It's only an hour and a half in, and already you've seen close to twenty riders emerge.

That leaves just over eighty dragons to bond. Yours is out there, you know it. Can practically sense it, feel it in--

Okay, maybe Kaori had a point.

You just had to keep going so they could find you.

Through the trees, you saw four greens, a brown, and two reds. You were about to make your way to them when he materialized on the edges of your vision.

Second- and third-years weren't supposed to interfere with Threshing, but were there any rules about interacting? From the way he was looking at you, open and expectant, you had to assume not.

You came to a stop, turning to look at him, and when your gazes locked, it felt like the world around you stilled.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi," you say.

"Hi," he repeats, and he's grinning, except one side of his mouth is just a little higher than the other, as if some invisible force had strung it up and tugged. You wanted to run your thumb over his lips and smooth it out. See just how pretty those big brown eyes were when they were focused on you all up close and personal.

Oh, no, that's not--

"You're still out here, so I assume it's not going well, but I'm gonna ask anyway." That grin widens, his eyes dancing, and you have to take a deep breath before you can respond.

"I feel it. Something. I don't know what, but--" You bring a hand to your chest, the way Kaori had. "Here."

"Yeah," Bodhi breathes. "They have their eye set on you before you even know it sometimes."

"Is that how it was for you?" you ask, and you have no idea why you do. You're wasting valuable time standing here chit-chatting. You're not even supposed to clump up. This boy is going to get you incinerated.

You eagerly wait for his reply.

"Yeah," he says. "Cuir knew before I did. I don't think I was out here more than an hour before we found each other."

You nod.

"I got lucky. Imogen was out here all day. I think Glenn wanted to fuck with her a little." He laughs, and you falter, unable to suppress the smile that weasels its way across your lips.

"That's rather unfortunate," you say on the tail of a laugh, and suddenly Bodhi's staring at you in a way you can't discern.

He rubs his palm along his jaw and you chance a step towards him.

"Having a..." You trail off, unsure if you should ask. How stupid can you sound while actively trying to bond a dragon? "If I have a feeling, it's a good sign, right?"

"Yeah," he agrees, without hesitation. "Absolutely."

You nod, unsure of what to say now. Because you don't know if the feeling in your chest is anything more than sputtering hope. If your parents fucked you by giving you the desire to do something great without the means to do it. If you inherited their cowardice.

No. You would not be a coward. Something you did would have to be enough. You were bonding a dragon today.

It was like Bodhi could read all of those thoughts on your face. Not that you'd ever been particularly good at hiding your facial expressions, but it was as if he has a secret key to all of your emotions.

He inclines his head to you. "We did it," he says hesitantly. "Marked ones. They didn't think we would, but we did."

"I'm not Marked," you say quickly.

"No, you're not," he responds, and his gaze tracks your body from head to toe, leaving shivers in its wake. "You should go. You have a dragon to bond."

You nod, not finding your tongue before he disappears back into the foliage.

And that's when you feel it--a puff of hot air at your back, and you don't know if you should turn around slowly, or just send up a prayer to Malek now. You opt for the former, spinning as slowly as possible with a downcast gaze until you see the gleam of navy scales. You chance a look up a bit, and you meet golden, keen eyes. A blue scorpiontail, and its nose is so close to you you're convinced it's about to blow a plume and end you right then and there.

There was no way you were making it out of this interaction alive. Perhaps that feeling in your chest had been your last moments os peace before doomsday.

The blue lowers its nose until it's level with you, and you suck in a breath as it goes to your gloved hand. Fuck. Of course your stupid skin is what's going to keep you from--

Did the dragon just set your hand on its nose. Holy shit.

You look down, a furrow finding home between your brows as your breath saws in and out of you, and you see that this massive dragon had placed your hand on the top of its nose. It shuts its eyes, letting out another warm puff.

"Hi," you whisper. You're really racking up these multiple syllabic interactions lately.

The dragon chuffs, bumping your hand. "You are enough."

And it feels like your chest cracks in two.

"How did you--"

"I know you."

Holy shit, you were talking to a dragon--

"What do you mean?" you ask. You needed to catch up before she changed her mind.

"You're nothing like your father. It's why I've chosen you." She straightens, extending her leg. This is probably the moment you're supposed to mount. You stumble, and it's not the most graceful thing in the world, but you make it up, figure out your way to where you're supposed to sit, a hand resting on the pommel of her scales.

"You choose me?" you ask aloud, still in disbelief.

"You're surprised?" she asks, her gentle voice filtering through your mind. You never thought you'd describe a dragon as gentle.

"Maybe," you answer. "A little bit."

"You knew." Her voice is almost chiding. Did you just get stuck with a mother hen for a dragon?

"I guess," you say. "I knew something, I just--"

"You're ging to need thicker gloves. It's colder the higher in altitude we climb, and the ones you have aren't going to have enough grip to keep you safe." She launches into the sky without warning. Something like a laugh filters through your mind as your scramble to grip the pommel, your gloved hands sliding against her scales as your brace with your thighs and hold on for dear life.

So, she doesn't even care about your hands. You swallow the rising lump in your throat.

"Obviously, I don't care about your accommodations. I know you. I also know you're about to fall off. Please, don't embarrass me on the first day."

You tighten your grip on her pommel as best you can, the wind whipping tears from your eyes and--

Oh. You were flying. On the back of a dragon.

It was more than anything you'd imagined, better than anything you could have dreamed up. It was pure adrenaline and joy, the freezing air kissing your cheeks, ripping the strands loose from your braids. You gingerly loosen a hand, slipping the glove off and tucking it away. You trace your hand along the wind, letting it dance between your fingers as she loops around. It was unlike anything you had ever, ever experienced. It was like your entire life, you'd just been waiting for this moment.

And you made it. You did it. You had proved yourself worthy.

You're a fucking dragon rider.

You'd given her name to the roll-keeper--Shocairinntinn--and turned around only to have Rhiannon barrel into you, talking excitedly about her new bond. She drags you away, demanding to see who you'd been chosen by, and when you approach Shocair, you noticed you've gathered a bit of an audience.

"A blue?" someone sneers. "She bonded a blue?"

Something in your chest sinks, and you blink hard. Shocair snaps at the boy that had said it, and when his orange starts to put up a fight, all it takes is a rumbling growl for the larger dragon to stand down. Shocair was small for her breed, smaller than most of the dragons on the field, but you had a feeling what she lacked in size, she made up for in viciousness.

"Your assumption is correct," she muses into your mind, sounding indignant. "Though I find the observation unnecessary."

You open your mouth to apologize, but she speak into your mind again.

"Don't. I chose you for your sharp mind and quick wit." You swallow, surprised. "And you better figure out how to talk back to me. I don't do discussions with others."

So, your dragon was an introvert. A warm feeling filled your chest, and you had a feeling she approved of this descriptor.

"She's beautiful," Rhiannon muses, and you shoot her a smile.

"She is," you agree. Shocair lowers her head in inclination, reaching until she's level with you. The riders around you take a step back, giving the two of you a large wake, but you just raise your hand until it rests on the tip of her nose. Something that sounds suspiciously like a sigh comes from her.

She straightens, extending a leg, and you take the hint.

"Cadet Marho," a professor calls. "Stay grounded!"

Shocair waits until you're mounted before moving to growl at the professor, and he has the wits to raise his hands in surrender and back off.

And then she takes off into the sky, and you're flying again. Tracing the clouds with your hands.

A dragon rider.

#y'all i want a dragon #okay enough set up the next part is literally what had me writing all of this LMAO #bodhi durran #bodhi durran x reader #bodhi durran x you #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #the empyrean #emmmaswrites

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