#i didn’t really know where this one was going lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ambivalence-is-me · 3 days ago

Text

The Lost Princess

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Your life drastically changes after meeting Feyre. You don’t know how to help, you don’t know much of anything really so, how is your life going to be now? In a city you didn’t know existed with people you thought you hated.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: manipulation, perhaps some self-loathing issues, slow burn. This is just like a prologue of their first impressions of each other.

A/N: this is HEAVILY inspired by Glinda from Wicked. I’ve been obsessed ever since I saw it. I wanted that sort of superficial clueless character vibe and this came out. I’ve got so many other ideas so just hear me out okay lol

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

You were a fool. A useless fool...and they knew that.

But you didn't want to be one. No, you wanted needed to prove you weren’t a fool. Prove it to them and to yourself.

It wasn’t your fault, even if they didn’t know it but you knew that it wasn’t your fault you had been so...lost.

They didn’t know about all the lies and manipulation you’ve gone through at the hands of your brother.

Your brother, who was probably the one male after the King of Hybern that was so hated, the Inner Circle’s number two enemy..Tamlin.

Let’s backtrack a little...

You are nothing like Tamlin, personality and physically speaking. The only trait you two seemed to share is the shade of green eyes. Hair, facial features, even height, seemed to set you apart from him. And you’ve never been more thankful for it.

Personality wise, while Tamlin seemed to damper every path and flower he passed, you had the opposite effect. A true daughter princess of Spring. You were bubbly, carefree, perky and just so full of life. It had annoyed Feyre at the start. She met you a few days after she had been taken from the mortal lands and forced to live at the Manor. You seemed to appear out of freaking nowhere in a pink dress, small tiara on top of your head and on your face a mask that seemed to be of a dove, beautiful white and gold interlaced throughout it. It was all sunshine and rainbows as if you had come down in a freaking bubble or something.

It irritated Feyre how you walked around and interacted with everyone with such joy when everyone else, especially her, seemed to be on high alert and tense but that tension seemed to leave whenever your presence was by. Feyre couldn’t get any answers from you whenever you conversed. She wanted to know everything about the fae lands, including how to get out, anything but you just didn't know. And later you both learned that it hadn't been Amarantha’s fault but your brothers’.

During Amarantha’s reign you had lived in a bubble (methaphorically speaking). You couldn't remember why one day you woke up wearing a mask, one you couldnt get rid of or even think about why you were wearing it. You didn’t know who was the evil red female who had proclaimed herself High Queen of Prythian or what she had done to all the lands and its people. Nor did you know of your father’s involvement in killing Rhysand’s family and especially didn’t know how he (and your mother and brothers) had been murdered by Rhysand’s father. All of this had gone underperceived by you for decades.

Truthfully, you weren't even supposed to be alive but were meant to suffer your mother’s fate at the hands of Rhysand’s father. And after learning the truth and re-meeting Rhysand properly, looking at the pain and grief hidden behind his violet eyes, you knew it too.

Tamlin, seemingly perceptive of what was coming after what his father had done to Rhysand’s mother and sister, suggested to your father to send you away, hide you far away where they couldn’t find and murder you. It had worked but you couldn't remember where you had been or with who, that part of your life was as if never happened.

After becoming High Lord and Amarantha starting her advances, he went even further to secure your protection and took you somewhere where he knew the sort of people who lived there would help him make sure that you followed every word and instruction he gave. He had them put a spell on you, he had cursed you.

Cursed to forget about the death of your family, cursed to overlooked Amarantha, cursed dismiss the danger they lived in, cursed to believe and follow every word he said, cursed to refrain from thinking too much, to question things, cursed to be clueless. For years.

Feyre thought it was an act. How you looked at everything so positively and nothing could go wrong but then she knew that it wasn’t.

It was never an act, you truly were clueless, but it wasn’t your fault. You were just another one of Tamlin’s victims.

Thats why Feyre gave you a chance. Besides the fact that everything seemed to go over your head, you are a nice, caring, empathetic female. After she was Made, Feyre gravitated more towards you, preferred your company over Ianthe's, sought you out after arguing with Tamlin or Lucien and while you never understood what she had gone through, the trauma and burden she carried (because of the curse), you never turned her away.

Tamlin had noticed how deep your friendship had gotten. And since he knew Feyre was to be taken away at one point by Rhysand because of that stupid bargain, he knew he had to turn you against Rhysand so you could in turn continue to feed into Feyre’s apprehension of the High Lord of the Night Court. How did he do that? He told you the truth...well, some of it.

He revealed the death of your family. He emphasized how merciless it had been and how Rhysand was the only one to blame.

You cried...for hours you wept and screamed. Your mother, your beautiful mother was dead all this time. You had thought she was off in another court with your father accompanying him with some lord duties but instead she had been murdered in cold blood, and you didn't even know.

Feyre knew then that she much preferred to see you smiling and laughing than to see you so heartbroken, to hear your cries was devastating.

And Tamlin had succeeded.

You became so incredibly fearful of the Night Court’s High Lord that you begged Feyre to break the bargain, to never look his way, to hate the cruel and soulless male who had taken your family away from you. And in return, Feyre had hated Rhysand, hated him so much for making you cry, for dimming your light. She also had fallen under Tamlin’s trap. But of course, that all changed.

It changed when it didn't get any better for Feyre, when Tamlin’s actions were feeding into her pain, when he locked her inside the Manor. You of course had no idea he had done this; you didn't even recall when Morr had rescued her. You heard the explosion and when you arrived at the scene, Feyre was already gone. Tamlin had been furious and told you Rhysand was to blame, that he had kidnapped your friend and that he had to find and bring her back.

You, of course thanks to the curse, believed him and you were extremely worried for her. Fear ran through your body and you prayed everyday to the Mother that no harm would come to her, that she weren’t suffering your mother’s fate.

Months passed and you remained none the wiser to what was happening outside the Manor’s walls. Whispers of war roomed the halls, some kind of Hybern involved, you hardly saw your stressed brother. Lucien being the one to accompany you at times for dinner. But he never revealed anything, of the war, of Feyre and you continued to stay clueless and out of the loop.

It wasn’t like you didn't want to know or that you didn't try. You did, you tried to ask around, to the servants, the sentries, but they all knew the spell you were under and knew better than to reveal anything Tamlin didn't want you to know. And you hated it. You felt so frustrated that you were doing meaningless things around the Manor while your friend, your only friend, was off in another court probably being tortured and you weren't doing anything to help her. After Tamlin had popped part of your bubble, you felt the need to be more hands on but you just didn't know where to start. At one point, you tried writing down the whispers you heard, along with questions you had, or any information obtained, and you tried to piece it all together by yourself. But nothing made sense. Nothing would continue to make sense when your brother had the power to take knowledge away from you.

Everything started to change for you with Feyre’s return. You were delighted that she was back, that your brother had rescued her from the Night Court. You hugged her so hard that for a second Feyre had forgotten her plan to ruin Tamlin. She remembered all the time both spent together, remembered and felt the care you had for her. And it was then that she knew that somehow she had to convince you to run away with her, to help you ruin your brother. After all of the things she went through in Velaris, all the knowledge and new perspective she gained, Feyre recognized you to be another prey fallen into Tamlin’s claws.

And you needed to get out. But by then, she didn’t know of the curse that was befallen on you. All she knew is that you believed every little word Tamlin uttered, that you blindly followed his every instruction, and she couldn't believe how she had never pieced the pieces together before. So, with more conviction than ever, under the wards and glamours in her bedroom at the Manor, Feyre told you everything. Of Amarantha's curse, what your family had done to Rhysand, what Tamlin did to her, of Velaris and the Inner Circle, Hybern, her mating bond, her sisters being Made and even of her plans to destroy the Spring Court. Slowly, Feyre took off the blindfold that had been forcedly put on you for decades. She talked and you listened, tears running down your face, for hours. Well into the night and again when the sun came up.

It was extremely difficult to believe her. How could you? When everything she was saying went against everything your brother had told you. Feyre knew that risk, that you wouldn't believe her but she held nothing back. She answered all your questions, worries and even hugged you.

You promised Feyre you wouldn't tell a word to anyone of what she had expressed. And you kept that promise but it didn't mean that you still full heartedly believed her. You wanted to, something inside you was screaming that it was the truth and that you had been an idiot to believe Tamlin.

But you couldn't understand, if Feyre was telling the truth then, why Tamlin had lied? Why had he kept so much from you? Tamlin, your older brother who fiercely protected you when you were a child, would read to you at nights, played with you, gave you attention when the rest of your brothers only ignored you. He was your favorite brother, your first hero, the first male you had told ‘’I love you’’ too. How can you change this image you have of him so fast when for all of your life he had been your rock? How can someone who claimed to love you do the complete opposite of love? You couldn't understand.

But then you remembered he lied about your family’s death, kept that from you. And using the same train of thought then that means, yes he could have hid so much more from you. And before making any decision in regards to following Feyre, you tried, just one more time, to get information out of your brother.

You asked him one question ‘’How did you find Feyre?’’.

He had looked up at you and said : ‘’It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she’s here now and that she’s safe. Keep her company and help in whatever she needs. You will do that right, sister?’’.

The spell made you nod without you even being aware that you were nodding and replied ‘’Of course, brother. I will help Feyre with anything she needs.’’

He smiled and dismissed you.

That did it for you. You couldn't explain why you had accepted his truth so fast, why you didn't question him further, why your mind seemed to be battling itself. It was maddening.

And so, you agreed to be part of Feyre’s plan to run away. She told you she was to accompany Lucien, the twins and Jurian to the forest. As per usual, you were expected to stay in the Manor while everyone did, well, everything else. But this time, when everyone left, you were to grab a bag with essentials and leave. Feyre pointed out a meeting spot where you were to wait for her there and then continue the path to the Night Court.

It was the most terrifying thing you had ever done.

‘’What about my guard?’’ You asked her, worried about your escape since Tamlin had appointed a sentry to be your guard whenever he or Lucien weren't in the Manor.

‘’I’ll take care of it. Just meet me there and wait. No matter what you hear, wait for me there. I will come find you, I promise’’.

And she had been right. Whatever she had done to your guard well, she took care of it since there didn't seem to be any near you, making your exit far smoother than you expected. Even if inside you were terrified, every neuron in your brain screamed at you to go back inside the Manor and wait for Tamlin. But you pushed through, for Cauldron’s sake did you push through. Every step away from the Manor, from Tamlin seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, making it hard for you to continue, as if there was an invisible force trying to pull you back (the curse).

When you made it to the meeting point you cried. You were feeling an immense amount of fear of this new life you were heading towards to. You were also feeling proud of yourself for committing and making it there but then the fear came back when hours went by and there was no sign of Feyre. You waited, just like you said, no matter if you were terrified of being alone in the woods. In the same woods you now knew ran part of Amarantha’s creatures. You were honest to the Mother about to piss yourself out of fear when you heard her. Feyre, she was coming. And she was not alone.

Lucien ran with her and they both looked worse for wear. You barely managed to speak when she grabbed your hands and urged you to run, tagging you along with them. You saw Lucien’s expression; he was probably confused by your involvement in all of this and he was worried of what would happen to you since he knew of the limitations of the curse. And yet, he stayed quiet and ran along with you both.

It was extremely hard for you to keep along with them. They were fighters, they were fit, they’ve been in battle before, but not you. You were just..well...a princess. You knew nothing of survival or fighting skills and they all knew that but they also knew they couldn't stop if they wanted to stay alive, to fulfill Feyre’s plans.

And made it you had.

With some great trouble along the way involving Lucien’s brothers but thankfully two Illyrian soldiers quite literally fell from the sky and rescued the three of you out of there.

Azriel and Cassian, Feyre had introduced.

And you of course took one look at them and nearly fainted. You were trying so hard not to show your fear but knew you were failing spectacularly. You’ve heard of their kind, from your father and Tamlin, of how ruthless they were, how they had no respect for females and enjoyed tearing them apart. But no, Feyre trusted them, had expressed there was nothing to fear, that they wouldn't harm you. And while everything inside you that was holding you back in Spring was telling you that it was a lie, you tried and believed her.

And now here you were. In this city you’ve never heard of, in a court where only bad things have been said, with only two other faes you knew, surrounded by others who apparently aren't evil at all. After all, in their eyes, you were the evil one, you were the villain in their story.

You met them all, the inner circle and they all stared at you. It was clear that they didn't trust you nor Lucien. But the way they treated you was different. With you it was like they didn't know how to treat you, as if they didn't know what to do with you. And well, you didn't know what to do with you either.

You were a fool, a useless fool.

They figured that out the moment Morrigan began asking questions and all you did was stare at her, mouth a bit open. Because of course, you didn't know the answer to any of her questions and you could see they were growing exasperated with you.

They all showed it differently. Rhysand hadn't met your eye once since you’ve been in the room, his jaw firm and looking anywhere else but you. The Morrigan vividly rolled her eyes at you and instead moved her attentions to Lucien. A smaller female than you with silver glowing eyes had taken one look at you and shook her head. Cassian, the big male with long hair and red jewels, was openly glaring and eyeing Lucien with distaste. And then, Azriel.

The most handsome male you’ve ever seen in all your life. While Rhysand and Cassian were also handsome, Azriel was a different type of handsome. One you couldn't quite explain. The best way your heart could capture it was by thinking that he was like the prince you always thought you’d end up married to. The handsome male described in those romance books you read. The one you hoped had a dazzling personality you longed for, to swept you off your feet and leave you breathless. And he did definitely leave you breathless but not in the way a female wants.

Right off the bat you’ve noticed that Azriel was quiet, the quietest of them all. He seemed to be analyzing everything, blending into the shadows that followed his every breath. And although he hadn't spoken your way once, his body language screamed that he wanted nothing to do with you.

And that hurt.

These people didn't owe you anything. On the contrary, you were the one invading their home, their safe space, you were the enemy so the least you could do is...what? Exactly what were you expected to do?

This only seemed to aggravate you further.

They don't know you, they don't know your heart, quite frankly besides existing, you’ve done nothing to harm any of them. Your hands and your heart were clean. And you didn't know this but that is exactly why Azriel, Rhysand and the rest had a hard time looking your way and accepting you.

You’ve done nothing. While they’ve gone through hell and back, what have you done? In their minds, you’re just a perfect little princess that can do no wrong.

And were they? Were they wrong? They weren't. Tamlin made sure you stayed pure, innocent, protected from danger so that you didn't need to lift a finger if you ever needed anything. But that was it, all your life had been dictated by someone else. Your thoughts, opinions and ideals were implanted by Tamlin.

It was time to start thinking of your own, to start creating a life of your own without Tamlin’s influence.

Without his curse.

The curse that only Lucien knew the existence and Feyre suspected of.

It was time to start battling everything you’ve been taught and fight for what you want. While you still needed to figure out what exactly it is that you want, you were going to do it. It was time to prove to yourself and to these new people that you were capable of more, of being more than just a foolish lost princess.

How were you going to do it? You had no idea, but you hope that the beautiful male with hazel eyes and scarred hands would wait long enough for you to give you a chance or perhaps, he could be the one to help you.

#azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel one shot #azriel #azriel angst #azriel imagine #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #azriel series #azriel spymaster #tamlin #azriel x tamlin!sister #azriel x oc #azriel x female!reader

596 notes · View notes

k1tty5 · 3 days ago

Text

I would like to make it clear that I do NOT want anyone’s firstborns, but I will ramble. for you.

rambles about the process and other thoughts under the cut! I talk a LOT, so… view at your own risk?

I originally had this idea a couple months ago, I think when I first heard the song. I had made a little test for it, which I didn’t end up doing anything with because I thought it didn’t really make much sense. Which, I’m not sure I did that great of a job making this make sense, but you know. Whatever.

this is the original drawing i made for it back in early august, very rushed and not a big fan of it.

I liked the black background & grayscale palette, as well as the way the string kind of . Twirls around the text? BUT, I went into this without any planning, mostly just me doodling and then threw the lyrics on for fun. No plot or whatever, very short.

After I made this, I was kind of just keeping this idea in mind for later, but I held back on trying to do it as I just wasn’t really sure where I wanted to go with it. I’m very bad at planning and tend to rush into things a lot, which ends up hindering the quality of a lot of my art. and since this was something I actually liked the idea of, I wanted to give it my all.

There was also the fact that because I liked the idea, I wanted the best outcome. This kind of ends up in a sort of paralysis where I don’t want to work on something because I’m not good enough for it, but I did realize that I will likely never consider myself good enough for it, so why not just go for it?

Anyway ,

I did not end up keeping the black background for the reason that I decided that this time around I wanted it to have a more traditional vibe/look? Like perhaps it was scrawled over some roughed up paper, hence the sketchy style and limited palette.

And as for why I didn’t keep the string looping around the pages, I just thought that would add too much red to the pages, sort of ruining the vibe. So I instead just kept it inside the panels!

these are the original thumbnails/sketches! most of them I kept the same, but I did end up pretty much entirely changing the third page, because I decided there was already too many panels of just their faces with somewhat unsettled expressions .

thoughts on individual pages - don’t expect me to be organized or this to be well thought out, by the way,,

on page 1 ,

I started with a shot of the relationship, mostly to just… set the scene. I am NOT an expert on comics, and went into this with very minimal planning, so this work in general is more of the vibes than it is a storyline, but I did try to vaguely get it to resemble something comprehensible.

the second panel of Etho brushing Joel’s cheek is very much no thoughts for me lol, not very happy with how it looks. I do picture Etho as the more openly affectionate one (though i can see it both ways). BUT, to match with the lyrics, you could say that the first panel paired with “it’s hard to tell which elements of this are real” could be resembling that the boat is something tangible and physical, whereas the second panel paired with “and which are chemically enhanced” is referring to whatever feelings they have. Asking themselves if this is really real, or if it’s just the game.

no notes on the third panel lol. like i say this was not well thought out, the story is somewhat there, but it’s VERY much up to interpretation and I did intend it to be that way. I have ideas about what is happening, but I want to keep it up to the viewer.

on page 2,

“But it’s not easy to tell what I want from what I need” OH BOY !!! manic red joel. blinded by the bloodlust and rage and adrenaline. he needs this. he needs it, doesn’t he?

“I am more scared of myself than I am of anyone else” okay okay okay. I don’t headcanon he has any real remorse for killing anyone. this is a death game, you’re not meant to be a good person, this is built on lies and manipulation and blood and hurt. headcanon they’re all insane people doing bad things (with a forced hand or not). BUT !!! big fan of “i break everything i touch” kind of thing (its kind of a pattern in ships i like OOPS). so much angst. regretful of your violent nature, wishing to be gentler so that you can cradle his face without digging your nails into his skin, unwanting to break the only thing you’ve learnt to love.

but. etho doesn’t care !!! he doesnt care. his hands are just as bloody as yours, don’t you see?

on page 3,

panel one is just a continuation of the last scene which i just talked about blah blah blah

panel 2!! thats a portal. we all know what happened in the portal :)

on page 4.

ending the mini comic thing with the ship burning, while it started with a shot of the ship in its prime. before and after, how it started and how it ended.

all in all, I !! AM !!! INSANE!!! about them. I could ramble for hours probably but this is already long so ending with a couple final thoughts.

this is definitely meant to be set after they’ve gone red, when in that timeframe is up to you, though. in my vision the lyrics are kind of correlating to c!joel’s thoughts/feelings/whatevers, but it can definitely go both ways - or neither way lol. This song is really just like. THEM. To me.

anywho, thank you to anyone who has put the augh’s and ough’s in the tags, they’re very gratifying haha <3

the simplest words

#sphynx rambles #you have no idea how hard it was to stay on topic. i need to just spew thoughts about smalletho in general one day. but this is not it #so i will end it there.#this took me a couple days to collect my thoughts haha but hopefully nobody minds seeing it ! i do very much enjoy talking about my process #-and stuff so. I kind of just go insane #UNRELATED but i am working on requests !! they are just taking a while because i have been in a rut with art for a while now #theres a lot going on atm. put a lot of stress on myself accidentally #mostly just unhappy with my style and unsure where i want to go from here in general #BUT i’ve made it through this so many times before so. just gotta keep plowing through. we’ll get there eventually

1K notes · View notes

misaerabl · 2 days ago

Text

Rock My World

MINORS AND MEN DNI / Word Count: 3.5k

SUMMARY: After a grueling concert, Vi, a tired but popular rock guitarist, and vocalist, retreats to her hotel room seeking solitude. Her plans are interrupted by a knock at the door, where she finds you—a mysterious stranger draped in a long fur coat and boots. Initially assuming you're a groupie, Vi learns you were sent by her drummer to help her "de-stress."

WARNINGS: oral sex (vi receiving), riding a strap, prostitution (?), short-lived bottom Vi, THIS IS ACTUALLY NASTY

A/N: sorry guys, I got a bit lazy with the cover pics lol I might replace them soon (I don’t have time to edit rn) Also, my first Vi fic! (This might be the filthiest thing I’ve made)

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

The roar of the crowd still buzzed in Vi's ears as she staggered into her hotel room, the adrenaline that had carried her through the encore now fading into bone-deep exhaustion. The stadium had been electric tonight—screaming fans, pounding drums, the lights casting their shadowed silhouettes across the stage like gods. It was the kind of night that should’ve left her floating, but all she wanted now was to crash.

Her guitar case thudded onto the couch as she kicked the door shut with the heel of her boot. She tugged her jacket off and let it fall to the floor, too tired to care. Grabbing a bottle of water from the minibar, she unscrewed the cap and downed half of it in one go before collapsing onto the edge of the bed.

The bedspread was crisp and uninviting, another impersonal feature of the chain hotels they’d been hopping between during the tour. She let herself sink into the mattress for a moment, leaning back on her palms as she stared at the ceiling, counting the hairline cracks in the plaster.

Then came the knock.

Three sharp raps, cutting through the quiet like a drumbeat. Her brows furrowed as she sat upright. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and the rest of the band had their own rooms. Maybe it was management with some last-minute schedule update—or worse, a fan who’d somehow managed to charm their way past security.

Dragging herself to her feet, Vi padded to the door, her steps heavy with reluctance. She cracked it open, intending to tell whoever it was to come back tomorrow.

Instead, she found you.

You stood there in a long fur coat, the kind that swished when you moved, and boots that clicked against the polished hallway floor. Your hair fell around your shoulders, catching the low hotel lighting, and you were wearing a smile that hovered somewhere between coy and self-assured.

For a moment, Vi just blinked, her tired brain struggling to process who—or what—she was looking at. You didn’t look like staff, and you definitely didn’t look like someone who belonged in a place like this.

“Uh…” she started, her voice hoarse from the set. “Can I help you?”

Your smile deepened, a flicker of amusement in your eyes. “Depends,” you said smoothly. “Can I come in?”

Vi’s brow arched, and she leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. This is new. She scanned you from head to toe, noting the confident tilt of your chin, the way you didn’t flinch under her scrutiny. Still, she’d seen enough to jump to the obvious conclusion. The coat, the boots, the audacity—it all screamed groupie.

“Look,” she began, voice low and tired. “I don’t know how you found my room, but I’m really not in the mood for—”

“Relax, Rockstar,” you interrupted, holding up a hand. “I’m not some random fan.”

That caught her off guard. Her arms dropped to her sides, and her confusion only deepened as you gestured casually over your shoulder.

“Your drummer sent me,” you explained, your voice calm, like this was the most normal thing in the world.

Vi blinked, her brain short-circuiting for a second. “Wait, what?”

You stepped forward before she could stop you, brushing past her into the room. She turned to follow you, watching as you tossed your coat onto the back of the chair like you owned the place.

“Apparently,” you said, turning back to her with a sly grin, “he thinks you need to unwind.”

Vi folded her arms again, her eyes narrowing as she leaned against the door she’d just closed. “So, what are you supposed to be? My babysitter?”

You tilted your head, letting the question hang for a moment before you shrugged. “Not exactly. He didn’t give me a lot of instructions.”

Vi’s lips twitched into a smirk, though her exhaustion dulled its usual sharpness. “So, what are you here for?”

“That’s up to you,” you said, your grin widening as you met her gaze. “I’m just here to help.”

Vi hesitated, one hand still on the door, the other brushing through her hair as she considered the absurdity of the situation. Her instinct was to send you packing, but something in the way you stood there, so calm and unbothered, piqued her curiosity.

“Fine,” she said, stepping aside and motioning for you to come in. “But if you try anything weird, I’m calling security.”

You walked in without hesitation, your boots clicking softly against the floor. She closed the door, watching you carefully as you scanned the room, your eyes lingering on the scattered clothes, the guitar case, and the empty water bottle on the nightstand.

“This your idea of post-show luxury?” you teased, glancing back at her.

She rolled her eyes, leaning against the doorframe. “What did you expect? Champagne and roses?”

“Maybe,” you replied with a smirk, making your way over to the bed. You sat down at the edge, the mattress sinking slightly under your weight. Despite the heat of the room, you kept your coat tightly wrapped around you, the fur brushing against your cheeks as you adjusted it.

Vi’s gaze narrowed. “You cold or something?”

“Not exactly,” you replied, your voice light, almost playful. You shifted slightly, the coat parting just enough to give her a hint of your bare collarbone before you tugged it closed again.

Her brows furrowed as suspicion crept in. “You’re acting weird,” she said, moving closer. “What’s with the coat? What are you—”

She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing as realization dawned. “You’re not wearing anything under that, are you?”

Your grin widened, and you tilted your head. “What if I’m not?”

For a moment, she just stared at you, caught between disbelief and amusement. Then she laughed, a low, raspy sound that filled the room. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, rubbing a hand over her face.

“Relax,” you said, leaning back slightly, your coat slipping just a little to reveal the curve of your shoulder. “I’m not here to seduce you… unless you want me to.”

Vi snorted, shaking her head as she sat down on the armchair across from you. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you replied, your tone casual. “But your drummer seemed to think I could help you de-stress. I figured I’d give it a shot.”

She leaned back, arms crossed, her lips quirking into a smirk. “And this is your idea of helping?”

You shrugged, the movement making your coat slip again, the edge of it brushing against your thighs. “You tell me, Rockstar.”

Vi leaned back in the armchair, her head tilted against the cushion as she watched you with a tired smirk. “Look, I don’t know what my drummer told you, but I’m too exhausted for… whatever this is supposed to be.”

You leaned forward slightly, your coat shifting again, though you still kept it clutched around you, the edge brushing against your thighs. “That’s okay,” you said, your voice low and teasing. “You don’t have to do anything. I can handle all the work if you like.”

Her eyebrows shot up at your boldness, a short laugh escaping her. “Wow, you really don’t quit, do you?”

You shrugged, letting a sly smile play on your lips. “I’m just saying… It looks like you could use a little help relaxing. Why not let me take care of it?”

Vi rubbed a hand over her face, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she studied you, her exhaustion briefly forgotten. “What’s your deal, anyway? You always this bold, or am I just special?”

You grinned, leaning back on the bed with an air of casual confidence. “Let’s just say I have a knack for reading people. And right now, I think you need someone who’s not afraid to take the lead.”

Vi’s lips curved into a smirk, her eyes gleaming with both amusement and curiosity. “And what makes you think I’d even let you?”

You tilted your head, your grin never faltering. “Because you haven’t kicked me out yet.”

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

She doesn’t know how exactly you got in this position. Your face was buried between her legs, her head tossing back as you grip her legs tighter and pull her closer.

Vi wasn’t used to being on the receiving end—she was always the one in control, the one calling the shots. But tonight, something had shifted. The exhaustion from the show, the tension in her muscles, and your bold confidence all combined to strip away her usual defenses.

What you were doing to her wasn’t just unexpected; it was better than anything she’d ever done herself. The way your hands moved, the way you seemed to know exactly what she needed, it left her disoriented, and vulnerable in a way that felt unfamiliar.

It should’ve made her uneasy, the thought of giving up that control, of letting someone else take the lead. But with every deliberate touch, every calculated move, you silenced her doubts, replacing them with waves of sensation that she couldn’t resist.

It felt strange—wrong, even—to enjoy it this much, to let go of her need to be the one in charge. And yet, nothing could override the sheer pleasure coursing through her. For once, she didn’t mind surrendering; in fact, she couldn’t imagine it any other way.

Vi suddenly sat up, her hands gripping your shoulders as she pushed you away. The abruptness of her movement left you momentarily stunned. You knelt there, catching your breath, and when you looked up at her, your lips were glistening, your eyes searching hers for a clue.

“Did I… do something wrong?” you asked softly, your voice uncertain as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, the vulnerability in your tone cutting through the tension in the air.

Vi’s chest rose and fell as she steadied her breathing, her gaze flicking down to you briefly before she shook her head. “No,” she said, her voice low and a little rough. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Without another word, she slid off the bed and strode toward her suitcase near the dresser. You stayed where you were, still on your knees, watching her with a mix of curiosity and unease. The rustle of the zipper broke the silence as she opened her bag, rummaging through its contents with purposeful movements.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice hesitant, unsure if you should move or stay where she left you.

She didn’t respond immediately, her back to you as she dug through the suitcase. When she finally straightened, something big and made out of rubber was in her hands. The faintest smirk played on her lips as she turned back to face you, her eyes holding a flicker of mischief that made your stomach twist with anticipation.

Vi turned back to the bed, the faint clink of the buckle in her hands drawing your attention. She slid it on with practiced ease, her movements fluid and unhurried. Once she was done, she laid back against the pillows, her head tilted slightly as she looked at you with a smirk that sent a jolt through your chest.

“Come here,” she murmured, her voice low and commanding as she extended a hand toward you.

You hesitated for only a moment before climbing onto the bed, your coat slipping open slightly as you moved. As soon as you were close enough, she pulled you down, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, yet left no room for misinterpretation.

When she pulled back, her hands slid down your arms, guiding you into position with firm, unyielding pressure. She placed you exactly where she wanted, her touch both gentle and assured, leaving no doubt who was in control now. The anticipation in the air was almost tangible as she leaned back, her gaze locking onto yours with a heat that made your breath hitch.

Vi’s hands settled firmly on your waist, her fingers pressing into your skin as she began to guide your movements, up and down her strap. Her smirk widened, a glint of mischief lighting up her eyes as she stared into yours, her confidence practically radiating off her.

“Now this,” she murmured, her voice a low, sultry drawl, “is more my speed.”

Her grip tightened ever so slightly as she took control, her movements deliberate and unrelenting. The shift in her demeanor was electric; gone was the hesitation, replaced by the Vi you’d always imagined—the one who thrived on being in charge, who owned every moment with unapologetic dominance.

She watched your every reaction, her smirk deepening whenever she saw the telltale signs of your unraveling. “That’s better, isn’t it?” she teased, her tone both playful and commanding.

And as she continued, guiding you with an intoxicating mix of precision and care, it became clear: this was where Vi felt most at home—leading, controlling, and leaving you utterly captivated in her wake.

At this point, Vi’s hair was messed up and sticking to her forehead, her tank top almost completely drenched in sweat. Her eyes were half-lidded and darkened as she watched. All the while, her mouth was slightly agape as she let out small grunts of pleasure every so often.

She leaned up, resting her back on the bed frame instead. The sudden change made you gasp, as she penetrated you deeper, hitting that oh-so-lovely spot. You grab on her shoulder for balance, the other hand on the bed as you bounce up and down on her like the good little doll you are.

Vi’s free hand gripped on the bedsheets, gripping on the fabric. She looked up at you, smirking, her breath coming out in gasps. “Fu-F-Fuck… s’good for me… Taking me so well… I-... mmmfffff…”

The sound of moaning was the only thing that could be heard in the once-silent room.

She let go of your hip, letting you move on your own, now both her hands on the mattress and supporting her weight. You move even harder, deeper. This time you both let out a gutteral moan, her head falling against the bed frame.

Vi let out another moan and shifted up on the bed, now seating up instead of leaning on the bed frame. She wrapped her arms around your waist and held you against her chest, while at the same time, started to lean forwards. She brought you down with her hand and gently laid you on your back. “Mmmm… f-fuck… I-... nnng… I can’t get enough… of… y-you…”

She leaned down on the bed, holding herself above you, shifting again to get a better angle, her movements now more desparate and less gentle than before. She planted her hands on either side of your head to support herself and leaned down to start leaving trails of kisses on your neck and shoulders.

“S-Shit… You feel… s-so good… I-... mmmnfff… I don’t want to stop… You’re so good for me… So perfect…”

You continued to gasp and moan as she nipped and sucked your sensitive skin. Every once in a while, you would let out a high-pitched whine of pleasure, your body arching to press against Vi as much as possible. Your hands tangled themselves up in her hair, your nails scraping on her scalp. “Ahh… Vi… yes… nnn… don’t stop… don’t fucking stop… ah…”

Vi groaned as she felt your nails scratch her scalp and shivered in pleasure. She bit and sucked at a specific part in your neck hard enough to leave an already prominent bruise behind. Once she was satisfied, she pulled away and took in the mark she left behind. It’s a good thig you had a coat to cover it up with later.

She continued her assault on you skin. With each new one, she would take a moment to admire the mark before continuing to leave another. Her grip on your hips got progressively tighter with each mark left behind. “You’re… mine…”

Both of you knew the truth, even if it lingered unspoken in the air between you. You weren’t hers—not in the way she might want to believe. This was a transaction, a carefully arranged arrangement where your role was clear.

You were here to let her let go, to help her unwind, and—ultimately—to serve a purpose, not to be hers. The money exchanged, the boundaries set. There was no mistaking the professional line drawn between the two of you.

And yet, in the heat of the moment, there was a fleeting whisper of something more, something that made you both question the labels you’d placed on this. But even as the room pulsed with tension, the reality of what this was hung like a veil, unyielding and undeniable.

As the tension finally snapped, both of you collapsed against the bed, your bodies still trembling from the intensity. Vi, breathless and sweaty, eased herself off you, her movements slow and deliberate as she pulled away. For a moment, neither of you spoke—just the sound of labored breaths and the lingering warmth between you.

Vi settled herself on top of you, her weight pressing gently against you as she let out a satisfied sigh. Without warning, she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, her lips lingering there for a brief, almost tender moment. The gesture was unexpected, but it somehow felt more intimate than anything that had come before.

Her gaze met yours, a quiet understanding passing between you both. You weren’t hers. You knew that. But in this moment, it didn’t matter.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

The soft glow of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm hue across the room. Vi slowly stirred awake, her muscles still sore from the night before, the memory of it lingering in the back of her mind. The bed was empty beside her, the absence of your presence felt immediately. For a moment, she just lay there, the silence of the room almost deafening.

She glanced over at the clock, realizing she was running late. She had a meeting with her bandmates downstairs, and the last thing she needed was to be late after everything that had happened.

With a sigh, she pushed herself up from the bed, the sheets rustling around her. She grabbed her clothes from the corner, the remnants of last night's whirlwind still hanging in the air. As she dressed, pulling on a leather jacket over a simple band tee and dark jeans, her thoughts wandered back to you. She didn’t regret what happened, but the whole thing felt strange now that the adrenaline had faded.

Vi quickly finished getting ready, grabbing her bag and heading out the door. She paused for a moment in the hallway, then shook her head. No time to dwell, she thought. She had her bandmates to meet, and business to attend to. The rest, whatever it was, could wait for later.

Vi walked into the lobby, her bandmates gathered around a table, already talking. As soon as their drummer spotted her, his usual mischievous grin spread across his face.

“Well, well, look who’s here,” he teased, clearly trying to hold back a smirk. “So, did you enjoy your night, Vi?” His eyes sparkled with amusement. "Did she do the trick? You know, the one I sent your way?"

Vi raised an eyebrow, her gaze narrowing as she met his playful, probing eyes. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice calm, though the tension in her posture suggested otherwise.

He leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the moment. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know. I figured you’d like her—Babette’s finest, right?” He lowered his voice slightly, eyes glinting. “She’s known for strictly... serving women, and I thought, well, you’d definitely vibe with her. Guess I was right.”

Vi froze, her heart skipping a beat as his words sank in. She hadn't expected the drummer to be the one who’d arranged it, or that he’d been so open about it. Her curiosity piqued, she tried to keep her expression neutral, but her mind raced.

“What do you mean by ‘Babette’s finest’? And where exactly can I find her?” Vi’s voice was calm, but her eyes betrayed her—there was an unmistakable gleam, a hunger for more.

He smirked, clearly enjoying how much this was affecting her. “I knew you’d want to know,” he said with a chuckle. “You can find her at Babette’s, of course. But she only works for women. I guess that’s what makes her special, huh?” He gave her a wink. “And don’t worry, I’m sure she’d be happy to see you again.”

Vi’s eyes glistened as the realization hit. The curiosity and something deeper—something she hadn’t expected to feel—washed over her. She nodded slowly, her thoughts already moving towards the next step.

“Thanks for the info,” she said, her voice steady, but there was a faint excitement hidden just beneath the surface. As her bandmates continued talking, Vi's focus shifted inward. She now had a clear direction—one that would lead her right back to you.

#arcane #vi #vi arcane #arcane smut #vi x reader #smut #fanfiction #vi smut #arcane league of legends #arcane s2 #league of legends #lol #vi arcane x reader #vi arcane smut #vi x you #vi x y/n #vi x fem reader #lesbian

239 notes · View notes

azzifuddslover · 2 days ago

Text

off the court

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

themes: angst, pining, possession, jealousy

tw: swearing, light injury

word count: 3.8k

a/n: i liked writing this one but it’s kinda all over the place lol. azzi is really in her oblivious era 🙄 and please ignore how everything in this chapter has already happened.. anyway please please lemme know how y’all like it! enjoyyy

CHAPTER SIX

azzi strolls into her and caroline’s shared dorm, still out of it from everything that went down in paige’s room just hours prior.

caroline rests on her bed, curled up in a ball with a book in her hands. her eyes snap to azzi as she makes her entrance, prepared and willing to apologize profusely.

azzi lets out a quiet sigh, not quite ready to talk with caroline just yet. instead, she goes into their small kitchen, opens the fridge and grabs an unopened water, taking a few sips. she also spots leftover chocolate chip muffins that her and caroline had baked recently, and snatches one of those to snack on as well.

azzi makes her way into their bedroom eventually, finally deciding to talk to her best friend. she hates fighting with her- can’t stand it, actually.

“hey,” azzi waves at carol, taking a bite of the muffin.

“azzi, i’m so sorry,” caroline apologizes, shutting her book to give her undivided attention to her friend. “i promise i was going to tell you eventually, i just figured i’d let you and paige work things out before getting involved. you have to know that.”

azzi’s lips tug into a small smile, “i understand, babe. it’s already forgotten.”

she wasn’t lying, either. it was forgotten- something, someone took her mind straight off it.

caroline lets out a breath of relief, touching her hand to her heart. “oh, that’s good. i truly am sorry.”

azzi just laughs at the brunette’s reaction while continuing to snack on her muffin.

“so, how’s the book? i’ve been dying to read that one,” azzi asks, changing the subject.

“it’s so good, you’ll love-“ caroline cuts herself off, “azzi fudd, look at me right now.”

azzi’s head snaps to caroline, “what?” she questions, genuinely confused.

caroline gasps, covering at mouth with both hands, “oh my god! i can’t believe this!” she stands up, approaching the curly headed girl, “who am i kidding, i totally can believe this.”

“what are you talking about?”

“look in the fucking mirror, az!” caroline exclaims.

azzi’s eyes widen as it clicks in her brain. she rushes into the bathroom and instantly covers her mouth in shock. fucking paige.

a trail of hickeys are scattered along her neck, all down her collarbone. heat reaches her cheeks as she shakes her head in disbelief.

“oh jesus,” azzi murmurs.

caroline appears behind her, looking directly in the mirror, making eye contact with her friend. a loud laugh leaves her lips, unable to hold it together.

azzi turns around, finding it extremely unfunny. she gives carol a shove, “it’s not fucking funny, asshole!”

caroline plants a hand over her mouth in hopes to control her chuckle, “i’m sorry, babe. but seriously? we were just talking about this yesterday and it happened overnight?”

azzi opens her mouth to explain herself, but closes it when she can’t find the words.

“tell me everything that happened,” caroline smiles, excitement buzzing off her.

azzi and carol leave the bathroom, entering their shared bedroom and sitting on the two beds, facing one another.

“where do i even start,” azzi quietly asks herself, before beginning to go over everything that went down between paige and her from the night before.

“no, az, you said to forget about it? why would you do that?” caroline questions after azzi wraps up the explanation of her trail of hickeys.

azzi shakes her head as regret sets in. “i panicked, okay? i didn’t wanna screw things up.”

“but what’s wrong with changing how things are between you two? you clearly like one another, so what’s the big deal?”

azzi looks at her friend, “that’s the thing, carol. she doesn’t like me. i mean, maybe a little, but not like that. she never wanted to kiss me to begin with- i was the one to initiate it.”

caroline smirks while shaking her head at azzi’s comment, “babe, i love you and all, but you’re being dumb.”

azzi scrunches her eyebrows at her friend, “what? why?”

“paige loves you, idiot! i know it, everyone knows it; she knows it, even if she doesn’t wanna admit it,” carol begins, “she always makes little glances at you during practices, she practically glows when someone mentions you around her. and on top of all of that, she always finds a way to be near you whenever you’re around!”

azzi gapes at caroline’s reasoning, shock crashing onto her features. unsure how to respond, she stays silent, letting a comfortable silence settle between the two freshmen.

“you’re wrong, carol,” azzi finally responds, shaking her head. she has to be wrong.

“like hell i am!” caroline shouts. “and do you really think she’d fuck you without any feelings involved?”

azzi’s lips curl into a line, “i’ve heard she’s done it before.”

“azzi, everyone has casual hookups. i’m not talking about that. it’s different with you.”

“you don’t know that,” azzi responds.

“we’ll see in practice tomorrow,” caroline says to her friend.

“we sure will,” azzi folds her arms over her chest in challenge.

the following day, azzi immediately forces all the paige’s thoughts away, at least for a little while so she can focus on doing better in practice.

she rolls out of bed, rubbing her eyes and letting out a soft yawn. she washes her face, follows her short and simple skincare routine before applying concealer to the marks paige left behind on her neck, trying her best to hide them. even after three layers, they’re still slightly noticeable.

she throws on practice clothes before heading out the door with caroline by her side.

“did you make sure to cover your little love bites?” carol snickers from beside azzi.

azzi rolls her eyes, “yes, caroline. not like it’s gonna last, though.”

caroline nods in agreement. once azzi starts to sweat, the concealer will definitely wear off, leaving azzi’s neck exposed.

a flash of panic runs through azzi, “you don’t think paige told anyone, right?”

carol slugs her arm around the freshmen’s shoulders, tugging her close. “nah, not yet, at least. it’ll be fine, az.”

“i hope you’re right.”

azzi’s performance is definitely an improvement from yesterday; her shots falls in almost everytime, she completes simple layups with a grin on her face.

paige notices this, and decides to approach the younger girl, despite her brain screaming not to.

“i see you’re doing better,” paige notes, a tiny smirk on her lips as she stares at azzi.

azzi locks eyes with paige and takes a small step backwards. she figured paige would keep her distance, considering what she told her yesterday, but apparently, paige has other plans.

“yeah, guess so,” azzi mutters, taking her attention off paige and back onto shooting.

paige continues to stare at her, awkwardly standing with a basketball in her hands.

“do you need something?” azzi asks, arching a brow.

“uh,” paige begins but her words soon trail off as she catches sight of the faint marks on azzi’s neck, scattered along her neck and collarbone area.

azzi glances at paige, confusion setting in at paige’s wandering eyes. “what?”

paige blinks, her lips pressing into a thin line as she clears her throat. “um, guess i got a little carried away earlier,” she mutters as she shallows dryly. “didn’t realize i left marks.”

azzi’s cheeks flush, unconsciously grabbing her neck. “yeah, you did.”

“sorry about that,” paige attempts a small smile at azzi, who doesn’t return it. instead, she stares at paige with an unreadable expression on her face.

“it’s fine,” azzi whispers, going back to shooting, subtly hinting for paige to leave.

paige takes the hint and soon backs away from the curly haired brunette, going back to her own dibbling drills she was previously doing with jana and aubrey. she can’t help but feel embarrassed that azzi can shut what happened between them down. it clearly wasn’t that easily for paige.

paige feels for azzi, whether she was ready to admit it or not. that night they shared together meant something to her- meant everything to her. how was she supposed to forget it happened when every time she saw azzi, it all came rushing back?

days went by with azzi and paige keeping their distance from each other. the two barely interacted during practices, barely even glanced in the others direction.

regardless of their little contact, paige still yearned for azzi. she physically couldn’t get their shared night out of her head; the feel of azzi’s lips on hers, her tongue against hers, her taste. she’d be lying if she said there wasn’t late nights where her fingers didn’t end up in her pants at the memory of azzi. there most definitely was.

but today was game day, so the blonde tried her best to focus her attention on basketball, and not the brunette that wouldn’t even glance her way anymore.

the uconn women’s basketball team, along with iowa state, the opponent, took their time getting warmed up and stretched. by the time both teams were ready to start, paige was relaxed and confident in her game.

the girls are playing well- paige has 15 points and azzi equips 17 before halftime arrives.

30 seconds until the halftime buzzer goes off. the whistle blew sharply, cutting through the noise of the crowd. paige has her hands on the ball, scanning her surroundings for any open teammates. azzi is planted in the corner, setting up for a 3 shot she could easily make. out of the corner of her eye, azzi spots a player from iowa state approaching her, in attempts to guard the freshmen. paige throws the ball to azzi after noticing she’s open. azzi scans the court, waiting for the perfect moment to take the shot. she dribbles once, then twice, pivoting to create space between the defender and herself. the player belonging to iowa state closes in, aggressive and quick. azzi shifts to her right, trying to get the open shot, but as she plants her foot to push off, the defender lungs at her- her elbow unintentionally catching azzi in the ribs.

azzi lets out a sharp gasp when she stumbles backwards. her ankle twists slightly as she tries to catch herself, but ultimately loses her balance and crashes hard to the floor. the air leaves her lungs in a painful rush.

“azzi!” paige’s voice breaks through the noise of the game, full of concern and worry. one minute she was on the other side of the court, and in an instant, she was sprinting towards where azzi’s lays. she reaches azzi, who attempts to sit up, hand clutching her ribs, wincing in pain.

“hey, hey, you okay?” paige kneels beside her, placing both hands on azzi’s face, eyes wide and mouth ajar. there was a noticeable anger in her tone, and before azzi knew it, paige turns her head at the iowa state defender, who was standing there, oblivious. “what the hell was that?”

the defender, a bit stunned at paige’s outburst, takes a gentle, cautious step back. “i didn’t mean to-“

“i don’t care if you meant to or not!” paige snaps, her eyes narrow.

the ref was already approaching the commotion, but paige ignores him, attention fixed on azzi. she reaches out to once again cup the younger girls face in her hands. “azzi, look at me. are you okay? can you breathe?”

azzi, still dazed at her fall, pulls her eyes to paige’s. her body almost instantly relaxes with paige’s hands on her face and eyes fixated solely on azzi. “i think i twisted my ankle a bit. and my ribs hurt.. but i’m okay.”

paige takes a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself. she removes her hands off azzi’s figure, placing them restlessly at her sides.

suddenly, aubrey, nika as well as coach auriemma appear behind paige- coach looking pissed.

“oh my god, azzi, are you okay?” nika questions, concerned for her teammate.

“i’m all good, nik,” azzi replies, attempting a small smile for reassurance.

“paige,” coach auriemma says, eyes flaming with anger.

paige flicks her eyes at coach as nerves set in for the sophomore. oh well, she thought. defending azzi was more important than a lecture she’ll receive later on.

azzi tries to get up on her own, struggles a little before the blonde offers both hands out to azzi. paige helps azzi to her feet, still clutching her ribs in pain. paige lets go of azzi’s hands, only to move one arm loosely around her waist and position herself at the brunettes side.

the two girls head into the locker room, paige’s arm never moves from azzi’s frame. for support, she repeats to herself. the other players follow as well, all concerned for the freshmen. azzi is a big part of their teams success- she had to be okay.

azzi lowers herself onto the bench once they make it to the locker room for halftime, carefully and cautiously. paige continues to linger close to her.

before paige could get a word out, coach auriemma shouts her name, calling the sophomore over. paige groans as azzi quietly chuckles, already expecting a long lecture.

the game eventually ended, uconn winning by a landslide. azzi, for the last two quarters, rested on the bench, not wanting to risk getting further injured.

azzi is sprawled out in her bed, caroline sitting in hers with her nose in her current read, when a text from the team group chat comes through.

azzi reaches for her phone- wanna go to ted’s at 8? nika’s text read.

azzi mentally groans, not wanting to leave her room, much less leave her bed. she lets out a soft sigh, knowing caroline will drag her there regardless of her answer.

me and azzi are in! caroline quickly sends, not even bothering to ask azzi prior. typical, azzi thinks to herself.

each teammate, besides ashlynn, who was crammed with studying and said she couldn’t make it, agrees to ted’s.

caroline practically throws her book down, rushing to get up and get herself ready for the night at the bar. azzi closes her eyes in defeat, pulling her blanket over her face to capture her annoyance.

carol yanks the blanket out of azzi’s grip, not having it with azzi’s stubborn pleas. “get up,” she says firmly at her friend.

azzi rolls her eyes, groaning again for good measure. she takes her time getting up from the bed, not wanting to push her ankle. it remains sore, but she’s able to walk decent. her ribs, however, have a large bruise from the iowa state player’s elbow.

azzi and caroline get dressed with music playing in the background from carol’s phone. azzi picks out a pink tank top, long enough to cover her noticeable bruise, and a pair of jean shirts: her go-to going out outfit.

around 7:50 pm, the two roommates make their way to the bar, azzi still buzzing with frustration from being forced out of her comfortable state. all she wanted was a chill night in, or maybe binge watch her favorite tv series again.

the door creaks as it swings open, the sound of loud chants makes azzi take a cautious step back. ted’s, as usual, is packed with uconn students. there was a faint clink of glass on glass cutting through the air, mingling with the deeper thud of bottles being slammed onto the counter. somewhere in the background, a jukebox crackles, its song barely audible over the noise of the overlapping voices.

azzi’s eyes wander, trying to find any of her teammates she planned to meet up with, coming up with none. her and caroline stood close, not wanting to lose one another in the buzzing crowd.

they sat themselves in open seats along the bar, after what felt like ages searching for. behind the bar, a male bartender’s rag swishes against a dirty glass as he glances at the two girls. laughter erupts at one end of the room, loud and brash, before it falters into a sputtering cough.

“what can i get you ladies?” the bartenders smiles kindly at them.

“i’ll just take a margarita,” azzi returns the smile.

“me too,” carol agrees, making it easier for the bartender, since he’s clearly overwhelmed with the crowd.

“coming right up,” the man throws his rag over his shoulder as he reaches for a clean glass.

out of the corner of azzi’s eye, she catches a glimpse of nika, with paige and kk right on her heels.

the three didn’t notice the two freshmen quite yet, however. they sat themselves at a nearby table, navigating their way through the packed bar, before going up and ordering their own drinks of choice.

paige’s eyes lock on azzi’s once she reaches the bar, their distance closing in. a smirk lingers on her lips, yet azzi looks away, embarrassed and confused from their interaction earlier that day.

the two don’t speak. paige is deeply engrossed in a conversation with kk, waiting for her drink to be made, and rushes back to their table without a glance back at the younger girl. not that azzi cares, that is.

azzi grips her drink, taking sips, wanting to savor it for the moment.

“i’m going to the bathroom,” carol says with urgency, getting up out of her chair. azzi responds with a simple nod in acknowledgment.

minutes pass; azzi stays firmly planted in her seat, glancing at paige ever so often, before focusing on her phone.

azzi’s gaze flickers around the room, idle but alert, until a woman around her age suddenly slides into the now empty seat caroline was sitting in previously.

“i couldn’t help but notice you from across the room,” the woman smiles at the brunette, “i’m talia.”

“azzi, and thanks, i guess,” azzi stumbles over her words, nervous at the attention she typically never gets.

azzi’s smile is polite, but her eyes flash with hesitation. she didn’t come here to flirt- especially with a complete stranger.

“what are you drinking? i’ll buy you another,” talia says, determination laced in her tone.

azzi is hesitant, “you really don’t have to.”

“i insist.”

azzi smirks at her, before agreeing, “alright then. a margarita, thanks.”

talia, a pretty blonde with loose curls, just like azzi’s, resting on her shoulders. her eyes were olive green, eyelashes long in length, perky breasts sitting nicely in her tank top. azzi definitely didn’t hate looking at her.

an unnecessarily loud chuckle interrupts the two girl’s conversation. azzi turns her head, eyes immediately landing on paige who stands at her table, clutching her glass tightly. she’s staring- eyes narrowed, cheeks red as her jaw tightens. azzi feels a familiar tension rise in the air between them.

she focuses on the woman in front of her, choosing to ignore the fuming blonde. they discuss their interests, azzi mentions she plays basketball for uconn, and what not.

paige’s gaze lingers on azzi longer than intended: an unreadable expression on her face. the sophomore gives them a couple minutes as she silently watches, hoping and praying the woman will leave her azzi alone.

but when she sees azzi outburst with loud laughter is when she loses it. she slams her glass down, hard enough to rattle the wooden table, and struts over there, anger buzzing off her skin.

azzi immediately sees the blonde coming her way, but chooses to ignore her until she reaches her and talia’s spots at the bar.

paige doesn’t bother looking in talia’s direction- she focuses solely on azzi, and azzi only. her hand impulsively moves to grip azzi’s arm, firm but gentle enough so it won’t hurt her.

“i need to talk to you,” paige says darkly, “now, azzi.”

azzi scrunches her eyebrows, shock running through her veins at paige’s urgency.

“i’ll be right back,” azzi points to talia, offering a small smile as paige pulls her away. paige’s hand lingers on her back, holding her close as they walk towards the exit door for a more quiet, private area to talk.

“no, you won’t,” paige whispers against azzi’s curls.

the haunting tension hangs in the air as azzi follows paige outside, the frigid wind hitting her bare arms. the night is quiet, only the sound of the their footsteps fills the space as they head to the parking lot. neither paige nor azzi says anything at first, the energy between them is thick.

“where are we going?” azzi questions suddenly, annoyance laced in her tone.

“to your room, or mine, it doesn’t matter. somewhere we can talk without the freezing fucking weather.”

azzi remains behind the blonde the whole walk back to campus, letting out multiple angry huffs to capture how unpleased she is with paige.

“are you going to tell me why the hell you did that?” azzi says as soon as they enter azzi’s dorm, arms crossing over her chest as she tilts her head.

paige’s jaw clenches, her eyes fixed straight ahead.

“you really don’t get it, don’t you?” the blonde’s voice is tight, barely under control, as she turns to look at azzi.

azzi raises an eyebrow, “get what?”

paige’s eyes flash, a mix of frustration and anger edging in her tone. “you were all over her, azzi. you didn’t even care that i was right there.”

azzi’s shoulders tense, a frown pulling at the corners of her lips. “what are you talking about? it was just a conversation, paige.”

the sophomore scoffs, taking a small step towards the girl. “you were practically flirting with her! laughing, leaning in, making it obvious you were interested.”

“you’re being ridiculous! it wasn’t flirting, and if anything, she was the one flirting with me! and why the fuck would you care?” azzi shouts, throwing her arms up.

“god, azzi!” paige shouts back, mouth ajar at azzi’s complete obliviousness.

azzi lets out a small, defeated sigh as she sits down on her bed. paige lowers herself onto caroline’s made one, eyes focusing on the floor.

what feels like minutes pass without either one of them talking. it wasn’t until paige looks up at the brunette, anger washing away into sadness.

“i was jealous,” paige quietly admits, locking eyes with azzi.

“why?” azzi whispers back, her heart racing.

paige closes her eyes for a moment before getting up from her sitting position on carol’s bed, walking closer and closer to the door. she turns to azzi, only able to offer a few quick, quiet words- “you know why.” paige walks out without giving azzi a chance to respond.

azzi swears her heart skips a beat at paige’s choice of words, yet is unable to process how or why paige left so quickly.

minutes later, azzi is curled up into a ball underneath layers of blankets, head still whirling from her and paige’s conversation.

throughout the night, azzi couldn’t sleep. her mind was on repeat of paige’s words, uncontrollably playing in her head.

you know why.

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi #uconn wbb #nika muhl #paige x azzi #uconn huskies #basketball #fanfic #paige buckets #uconn women’s basketball #fan fiction

145 notes · View notes

lamentationsofalonelypotato · 15 hours ago

Text

Chapter 16: I Thought I Was In Love Before

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 10.3K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), IMPLIED SEX, Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Heavy Petting? Making Out, Nudity, Illusions to Sex, A little bit of self-deprecating thought. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Listen While You Read🪴: "I've Been Waiting For You" by ABBA

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: This chapter is really just a whole lot of fluff and a bit of cheeky spice, that I couldn't help but write. I figured the two of them really needed just a chapter where someone wasn't being tortured, someone almost died, someone was hurt, or them fighting lol. ENJOY!

There were more flowers in your entire apartment than in New York City on Valentine's Day, and you were sure that come morning there would be more flowers in here than what grew on the East Coast in the middle of spring.

Roses exploded from the bush in the corner splashing pinks and coral petals onto the floor, Lily of the valley dipped from outstretched stalks, honeysuckle, lavender, and lilac smiled from the pots on top of your dresser, and the gardenia on your bedside table filled the room with the sweet-smelling aroma. Even the pothos vines that trailed along your walls were brighter and greener, creeping along to secure your curtains while the Jasmine vines that crept up the wall behind your bed shed the white blooms over where Ben and you were laying.

You were sure that you had Jasmine smashed against your skin and threaded in your hair, but you weren't complaining. There was nothing to complain about, not if every time Ben took you to bed was anything like what had happened over the past four hours.

The number of men you'd slept with was in no way extensive, you could count it on one hand, which meant you weren't drawing from a wide range of experiences, not to mention that it had been probably over a year since you'd slept with someone, but Ben easily blew them out of the water.

Usually after you were with someone, you'd compare them to Newton, only because it was the longest relationship that you'd had and really the only guy you'd ever loved. When you'd finally slept with Newton, you'd thought that because you loved each other the sex was supposed to be good… but each time you were disappointed.

You could remember every awkward fumble of Newton's hands on your chest, every slobbery kiss, every time he said that he was "too tired" to return the favor, and every single time you felt unsatisfied while he turned over happy and drifted off while you tried to think of a way to muster up the courage to tell him that you wanted to try something new or at least tell him that you weren't happy.

Not being happy with Newton seemed to be a recurring theme and you didn’t know why you’d stayed with him as long as you did. Perhaps it was because you thought that it was true love, just as Ben stayed with Countess because he thought that was what love was like.

Turns out the two of you had just been waiting to find each other, and you couldn’t have been happier.

Nothing about the way Ben touched you was awkward or hesitant, it was confident, practiced, and just rough enough to give you a glimpse of how strong he really was. The way he kissed you was all consuming, as if he wanted to drink you in, swallow you whole until there was nothing left of you, as if he couldn't help himself but crash into you.

And Ben refused to let you touch him, until after he'd made you fall apart more times than you could count, whimpering, gasping, and screaming his name into the warm air of your bedroom with your hands tangled in his dark hair.

Not to mention you'd never get tired of the moans and breathy groans of your name on his lips. It made you feel powerful seeing Ben that way and hearing him say your name like that. Knowing that you were able to do that to him, to make him feel good the same way that he made you feel like you'd transcended to another plane of human existence. And you didn't think that you'd be able to stop anytime soon.

It was enough to make you regret making him wait for as long as you did. Maybe a part of you thought Ben was all talk, that there was no way that he was as good as he said he was, but you didn't expect Ben to know exactly what you needed as if he could see inside your head. And even though Ben said he wasn't gentle and didn't think that he could "make love" to you, what he just did for four hours came close.

Because he had unmade you, destroyed you, and then the shattered remains that pieced back together after he took you apart cell by cell was filled with so much love and ecstasy that you didn’t know where it all came from.

You'd never felt this way about anyone else in your entire life. Just as Ben thought he'd loved Countess, you thought that you loved Newton, but the way you felt about Ben was nothing compared to how you felt about your ex.

You weren't sure if you'd ever feel this way about anyone else ever. At the back of your mind the realization that you could potentially live as long as Ben did was hovering there and the truth was that you could see yourself spending all that time with Ben. You could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him. He was the only one you wanted and you hated how long it took you to admit it to yourself.

But there was a little twinge of something deep down that worried you Ben couldn't commit 100%, and then Ben would do something uncharacteristically soft and it would make you believe whole heartedly that he could.

And even if Ben couldn’t say that he loved you the traditional way, you knew he did. You saw it in the way he held you, saw it in the way he brought you coffee, saw it in the way he walked with you to and from work, and you saw it in the way he cared for you.

There weren't any casualties tonight, except the shower curtain and the rod. The shower had been a good idea in theory to cool off and clean up, until you grabbed the shower curtain and ripped the rod from the wall when Ben twisted his hips in a way that made you see stars.

You suppose that you had instigated it, after you laughed at Ben's inability to fit in your shower, and Ben took it as a challenge, but your plants had been spared.

And you were happy that your headboard had survived, it was antique, and you loved it, but there were a set of divots in the drywall behind the bed that made you hope that Mike wasn’t home and had witnessed what had caused them.

Though you had a sneaking suspicion that Ben had done that on purpose. It wasn't a secret to you how possessive and jealous Ben was, especially not after the way you'd seen him act around Jake. It was a trait that you'd never found attractive until you met him.

But there was something about the Ben’s jealousy and his almost primal need to claim you in every way he knew how that made you want him even more.

You hear Ben mutter your name faintly, breaking through your internal monologue.

You weren't up for moving now, your heart was thunderous against your rib cage, your limbs felt like jelly, and there was a layer of sweat coating your skin. You were laying on your back in your bed where the two of you had ended up, staring up at the ceiling in your bedroom trying to catch your breath, with the sheets and blankets tangled and thrown haphazardly off the sides at your feet.

And despite everything you thought about Ben, you never expected him to want to be close after sex, but he was laying on his side beside you, looking at you with a worried expression. His hand probes along your right wrist to catch your attention.

“Hmm?” You breathe because you can't seem to form words at the moment.

"You doing okay there Petals?" Ben looks smug, but you can hear worry slip into his voice.

It made you smile to yourself, because as rough and prickly as Ben's outer exterior was, you knew how much he cared about you even if he was unwilling to admit it aloud.

You take in a deep breath to find your voice and calm your heart. “Are you asking if you broke me with your dick? Or if you killed me with the almost Olympic level sex?”

Ben chuckles, propping himself up so he could stare down at you, his dark hair is falling forward over his forehead, and he's studying you with his green eyes.

He looks handsome. Ben always did, but here in bed with you, he looked normal, happy, and content. After the shower, his hair no longer had all the product that had been in it for the event at Vought, and after how many times you'd run your fingers through it, it was more tousled and scrunched than usual, but you loved it. He looked more like him again, not like the man that Vought had dressed up for the event. He looked like the man you'd fallen in love with.

You wondered if Ben noticed and liked that you looked more like you now, well, you as if you'd run ten miles. You were sure that your hair was a mess tangled and matted against the pillows, your cheeks flushed, and covered in sweat.

How the fuck can he look so good after doing that for four hours? Its unfair. I probably look like I've spent the past four hours trapped in a tornado while Ben looks like he's ready for a photoshoot for Vanity Fair.

"Because I never wanted to go to the Olympics, but I wouldn't mind going with you every once and a while." You cough out a laugh, still trying to catch your breath.

"Only once in a while?" Ben smirks. "Because you sounded like you'd be okay going every night not to mention it sure looks like you wouldn't mind going." He gestures to the blooms strewn around the room, before pulling one of the small, white fragrant flowers from your hair.

"Shut up."

Ben only laughs at you, flicking the flower away . "We can go whenever you want." He trails his fingertips against your cheek, brushing back some of the hair that was stuck to the flushed skin. “But you're okay? Sometimes I lose control-.”

“Some women like that.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” He rolls his eyes at you and the hand that pushed your hair away cups your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Ben's voice is soft and serious, his brilliant green eyes searching your face and then trailing down your naked body to look for injuries that you don't have.

Sure, you were a little bit sore, but it was a good sore, something that you wouldn't mind feeling all the time. The kind of sore that was satisfying to wake up to.

“Well when we first met-“ You begin to say, remembering when Ben had you by the throat and was preparing to rip you in half when he changed his mind and threw you across the room the day Homelander went on ice.

It was an odd first meeting and given how much Ben and you argued it seemed fitting that the two of you met how all great loves should, mid-fight.

You’d always wondered why Ben didn’t just kill you when he had the chance. It would have been one less headache for him to face that day. You remember looking into his eyes and seeing the anger and rage within, feeling just a feeling a shiver of fear skate down your spine when you realized it might be the last thing you ever do. It was honestly the only time that you'd ever been afraid of him. Pushing Annie out of the way had been worth it, knowing that you saved your best friend's life made your sacrifice worth it, but Ben hadn't killed you.

Ben swallows your next words, his lips moving fervently against your mouth, rough, with just a tickle of his beard against your cheeks. Honestly, your lips were already swollen and a little bruised, not to mention you had beard burn in a few places, but you weren't complaining and like hell you were going to stop doing something that felt so good.

“Don’t fucking bring that up again. I hate that I hurt you.” Ben winces when he admits it, but his hand gently traces the gentle curve of your throat, a frown gracing his perfect lips as if he can imagine the bruised handprint you had for weeks later.

You'd caught him looking at the mark sometimes whenever you were on mission in those weeks together, but despite how the two of you had met, you weren't afraid of Ben. Sure, he had tried to kill you, but you'd done the same thing, so you'd figured the two of you were even. Plus, Ben annoyed you more than he scared you, and you didn't believe for one second that Ben would hurt you on purpose.

Ben might have been rough, but you didn't believe that he would ever find pleasure in hurting you or that he would beat you into submission if you pissed him off.

“It’s our history Ben.” You smile raising your hand to push his hair back, brushing your thumb over his cheek in a gesture that makes his lean subconsciously into your touch. “You can’t change it."

He frowns with a sigh, the green of his eyes lightening in the light from your bedside table lamp.

"Why didn't you kill me that day?" You whisper. "You didn't know me-"

Ben's expression turns to something that almost looks like shame for a moment, before it hardens. "You didn't belong there."

"Where?"

"In all that shit. I could see it in your eyes. I-" His jaw tightens. "I'd never seen someone like you before."

"Like me? Is this when you go back to insulting me again?" You snort.

"No. I-" He bites back his next words. "I've met other supes before, the ones that you said act like gods, the ones like my bastard son but you were-.” Ben huffs out a frustrated breath. “I don't fucking know you were just different, and I didn't want to-" Ben looks conflicted as if he can't find what to say.

Although you usually found Ben’s awkwardness in conversations when they got too personal cute, a part of you broke for him. You wondered if he’d been like that his whole life. If Ben had lived in a world, where he couldn’t open to anyone without an internal monologue from an unseen entity telling him that he was being a “pussy.” You remembered what your grandmother said about Ben’s father, and it only made your heart break more for him.

You made a promise to yourself right then and there that even if it took decades you were going to make Ben comfortable telling you what he was really feeling and thinking. You wanted Ben to know that it didn't make him weak to express emotion that way, that you thought it didn't make him less of a man to talk to you.

Your hand slips from his cheek trailing to curve around the back of his head, bringing his face to yours so you can kiss him, pouring as much emotion as you can into it. "It's okay." You murmur against his lips with a small smile. "I understand."

"You do?" He looks surprised.

"Yes.” You nod, trailing your fingertips in his hair. “No one else has ever said that to me or cared to notice. I think I wanted to be a part of that world because of Annie, to be closer to her, but I don’t belong in it. Even after everything that happened with Elijah and Darren-”

“No, you don’t.” Ben doesn’t say it cruelly or with disdain or in a way to belittle you, instead he says it with a sigh, his hand finding your hip, trailing his thumb over the curve of your pelvis. "I want better for you than this."

"This?"

"You working for Butcher, working fifty jobs, coming back to this shitty apartment-"

You lock your arms around the back of his neck with a laugh. "We talked about this, I like our apartment."

Ben's entire body freezes where he's laying next to you, the thumb that was circling your pelvis coming to a halt. "You said our."

"Yes I did." You smile up at him, seeing the way his green eyes have brightened with the word. "The shitty apartment is half yours now."

"What a dream come true." Ben rolls his eyes. "At least at Vought it would have been quieter-"

"I think that Mike's screeching adds to the ambiance." You joke, loving the way his hair falls between your fingers and how Ben seems to lean into your touch before he can stop himself, that he reacts that way to you touching him just as you react to him touching him. But your smile turns sympathetic. "Poor Mike. I'm going to have to get him some noise canceling headphones-"

Ben's eyes darken to an emerald. "Let him listen, maybe he'll learn something. Plus, I did warn him my girl was kinda loud."

"Is that what I am?"

"Yes." Ben smirks. "Fucking finally."

You roll your eyes. "The way we started might have been rocky, but I like where we ended up."

“I do too, but I wish we had ended up here sooner.” His smile turns more into a smirk. Ben's hand grips your waist possessively, sliding you further across the bed towards him so he's leaning over you. “Told you it would be good. We could’ve been doing this since the day we met sweetheart.”

“Patience is a virtue.”

“That I’ve never had.” Ben hesitates, something flashing through his eyes so quickly that you can't place it. “But you’re okay?” It comes out quiet, and you watch his gaze drop again to your body to check for injuries.

“No.” Ben’s eyes widen at your answer, before you smile and bring his face back down to yours, the words a breath upon your lips. “I’m better than okay, I’m with you.”

The look on his face breaks you, it's so honest, so unlike the usual hardened façade he wore that it made it difficult to breathe. It reminds you of the way your father looked at your mother whenever he'd get home from work, or when the two of them would sway back and forth in the kitchen to an ABBA song, and when he looked at her like she was his entire world and nothing else mattered.

You never thought that you'd want to see Ben look at you like that or that he would ever look at you that way, but now his green eyes are bright and happy, meeting yours and it made you feel so warm that you were sure you would just melt off the bed and into a puddle.

It was what you had imagined when you thought about falling in love with someone else, the past four hours had been exactly that too. It was the romance that you wanted, the one that you tried to use to block off Ben’s countless attempts to try and sleep with you.

And you couldn't have been happier.

"Are you okay?" Your smile turns more into a smirk. "No broken hip or anything? Because at your age I'd think that it's a hazard. Didn't think an old man could do any of that without serious injury."

Ben's gaze turns murderous, something dark shining in his eyes that makes your throat tighten. "You're gonna regret that Petals."

"Oh, am I?" You tangle your fingers in his dark locks, your smirk growing. It brought you joy to make him so angry, to annoy him as much as he annoys you.

"Yes." He growls into your mouth pinning you to the bed, his body caging you in against the tangled sheets and blankets. Ben's eyes are glinting darkly in the light and makes you lose all feeling in your legs. "You are."

A little while later, Ben traces your lips softly with his thumb as you try to catch your breath. You were honestly beginning to fade in an out of sleep, and there was a pleasant ache along your limbs that made you smile with every drag of his fingertips against your skin.

“Petals?”

“Yes Gramps?”

"Don't call me that."

"I think it's cute." You sigh. "I like how out of touch you are with everything. It's adorable."

"I'm not adorable." He huffs.

"Yes, you are Gramps."

Ben rolls his eyes, but then laughs under his breath as if he thinks it's ridiculous to try and stop you.

Good, he's learning.

“Will you say it again?” He whispers.

“Gramps?” You joke.

“No.” Ben sighs heavily and jostles your exhausted body to make you stop, but it only makes you laugh at him.

“Say what?”

“What you said before.”

“Ben, I can’t really remember where I am right now so I’m gonna need you to be a little more specific.”

“When we were at Vought.”

You press your lips together in concentration trying to understand what he means. You'd said quite a few things to him tonight, things that you'd moaned while gripping his shoulders so tight that you would have left bruises on anyone else, and you try to think of what specifically he could be talking about.

What does he mean- Oh.

“I love you.” You say it without hesitation, without looking away from his gaze, and without regret. You didn’t hate yourself for falling in love with him and you didn’t want to deny yourself of him anymore. Not when he was holding you close with a softness that Ben had said he was anything but, not when Ben took the time to care about what you liked, and not when Ben seemed truly happy for the first time since he’d been out of Russia.

Ben leans down to kiss you, but this time it’s not rough, it’s not him in a frenzy taking what he wants, it’s gentle and turns hungry the longer his lips are against yours, his hands roaming places along your body that make you sigh and reach up grip his shoulders as an uncontrollable moan slips from your mouth.

If it was always going to be like this you were sure that you’d become insatiable, but you were never going to admit that to Ben. As if you needed to stroke his monumental ego.

Plus, you had a feeling that Ben already knew that.

“Do you believe me?” You murmur against his lips, shuffling your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, looking up at him with a gentle smile.

“Yes.” Ben whispers. “Because I know you wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

“I wouldn’t ever do that to you Ben. I want you to know that. And I wouldn't manipulate you into being something you're not-"

“I know.” He traces the soft angles of your face with his rough fingertips, sending goosebumps over your skin. “You’re nothing like her.”

He didn’t have to say Countess’s name for you to know who he’s talking about. The last thing you wanted was for Ben to believe that you were telling him you loved him to manipulate him to do something or become something he wasn’t.

“I hope not.”

“It’s what I like about you.” Ben continues. “You’re soft."

"Soft?" You raise an eyebrow trying to figure out if it was an insult.

He nods. "All the other supes I meet act like they have something to prove, but you-" Ben sighs. "You're different. You're kinder, even when you shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be?” You ask mildly confused.

“I-“ Ben hesitates as if what he’s about to say is difficult for him. “What you said that night at the fundraiser is true, I’m not this man. I’m not-“ His expression turns dark for a moment and you realize that Ben was about to say Jake’s name. Ben's jaw tightens and you can see how difficult it is for him to say what comes next. "But fuck Petals you make me want to be that man. I don't think anyone else ever has."

You could feel your eyes beginning to water with the emotion that swelled in your chest. You'd never heard Ben admit something like that, never heard him say that he wanted to be better for you.

“Ben, look at me.” You whisper cupping his cheeks to raise his gaze from your chin. “I don’t want Jake. I want you. I know what kind of man you are. I trust you-“

“But you shouldn't-“ Ben presses and it reminds you of the same thing he said to you before he took you to your bedroom.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I’ve done terrible things. I’ve killed people, tortured others,-“

"I've killed people too-"

"Not for the same reasons. You killed them because they were going to hurt you."

You gently push his hair back from his face. “Ben?”

“Yeah?” He's frowning, eyebrows furrowed together, and you kiss away the frown on his perfect lips.

“I know you. I know about the things you’ve done. I’ve seen the darkest parts and I love you anyway. All the little pieces of who you are make you… you. You wouldn’t be the man I love if you didn’t have them."

“But-“

“No buts.” You squish his cheek and Ben gives you an annoyed look that only makes you snort. He was going to need to get used to your antics if he was going to survive living with you. “Everything you’ve done, the choices you made, the things that have happened to you, shaped the man I fell in love with and brought you to me. No one is perfect Ben. Everyone is flawed, it’s what makes us human. But sometimes the flaws are the best part. So please don’t hide who you are from me, because you think you have to. You’re not going to scare me away.”

“How can you say that when I’m so different than you?”

“Because you’re forgetting all the important parts I love about you.”

“Which are?”

“Well now it kinda feels like you’re fishing for compliments Gramps.” You joke and this time the ends of Ben’s mouth quirk up in a half smile. “You protect me, you take care of me, you always listen when I’m talking and you actually remember some of the things I say, you pay attention to what I like, you try to make me laugh with your disgusting sense of humor-“

“You know you like it Petals.” Ben smirks.

“And you annoy me.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Doesn’t seem to be a good thing. Annoying you.”

“It is.” You giggle. “Because no one else annoys me quite like you do.”

“You’re so fucking weird.” Ben says, but it's not hostile, he says it with love, almost as if he can't believe how lucky he is.

“I love you too Ben.” You pull his face down to yours, cupping his cheeks with your hands and feeling the beard scratch and scrape against your palms.

“You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” He murmurs, trailing his kisses down to your jaw.

“Pretty much everyone you’ve met is from another century so-“

Ben raises his head to glare at you. “You annoy me too.”

“And you see it as a good thing right?” You tap him on the nose.

“Fuck no.”

The bed shakes with your laughter, Ben is still leaning over you, his right hand pushed into the sheets next to your head, his body resting comfortably beside you. You could feel how warm he was, the weight of his body like a warm blanket, and you knew that you could get used to this. You wanted this life with Ben so badly it burned through your body like wildfire. It made your heart ache, just as it used to when you thought about having a romance like your parents, your grandparents, and Annie and Hughie. When you’d think about finding the person who seemed perfect for you in every way.

Funny, given that Ben seemed to be the opposite of you, but that was why the two of you fit so well together.

“You never listen to me, you always argue, you always find something I’ve done to complain about-“ Ben continues.

“Are you going back to insulting me? Because it wasn't exactly fun for me earlier when you yelled at me."

“Give me a fucking minute.”

You wait.

His voice shifts to something a little gruffer almost confused. “You don’t ask me for anything.”

It was probably the last thing you thought he was going to say. If anything, you thought he was going to say that you’re always covered in dirt.

"What?"

“Countess she always-“ Ben frowns. “She was always asking me for shit. Jewelry, clothes, a new car. I always got what she asked because I thought that’s what you do for someone you care about, but you always fight me whenever I try to buy something for you. I don't understand you."

"You've said that before-"

"I know, but it's true. I've never fucking understood you." He smiles when he says it.

"That's okay, you have time to figure it out."

Ben hesitates, his hand tracing your arm. "I guess you do too."

The comment is paired with another rare soft smile, the kind of smile that you wanted to make him have every day for the rest of your life, and you understood why he was smiling like that. Because Ben was allowing himself to be comforted by the idea that he wouldn’t have to worry about losing you, that he wouldn't have to be alone and that you would be with him for as long as he was alive.

Something inside ripped open and you felt your eyes begin to water with the weight of his words, because Ben was saying that he wanted to be with you as long as you wanted to be with him.

"Yeah." You breathe. "I guess I do."

You contemplate for a minute what he said about Countess asking him for things. "Honestly, I do like gifts, but I like gifts that mean something." You sit up, gently pushing him off you, so you can gesture to the bookshelf standing proudly on the other side of your bedroom, the one that Ben bought you at IKEA. "Like the bookshelf."

"I bought you a diamond necklace and you liked the bookshelf more?" Ben sighs incredulous.

"Yeah." You laugh. "I've needed a bookshelf for ages, but I never was able to afford one. Do you have any idea how long I've had piles of books? Years. And-" You shrug your shoulders, gently taking Ben's hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over the hardened ridges and rough patches. You couldn't go long without touching him, you were realizing that about yourself and now that you were finally allowing yourself to touch him you weren’t sure when you would be able to stop. "I've also always thought that spending time with someone else is more special than big extravagant gifts."

"Really?"

You nod.

"Why?"

"Because I think there's something wonderful about just existing with someone, of inhabiting the same space and doing nothing at all. Of sinking into someone and just being there." You could feel your cheeks flushing. "When we watch a movie or when we sit and read together or when you walk with me to the plant shop, I like things like that. Spending time together without expectations or a sense of urgency. Taking the time out of your day to be with someone else. And it doesn't have to be sex either-"

"Are you saying that you didn't like the sex?" Ben raises an eyebrow. "Because you certainly sounded like you-"

"No! I-" Your cheeks flush. "I liked the sex."

"Thought so." Ben smirks.

"You're insufferable." You roll your eyes at him, considering what to say next. "I know that it's a little different than the girls you've met in the past, and I know that it might seem a little strange, but you didn't have to take me to Vought to impress me or win my love or something."

Ben looks confused.

"I mean, if you'd shown up on my grandmother's doorstep with a giant box of greasy Chinese food, a cheap bottle of wine, and a small bouquet of flowers I would have been equally happy."

"Really?"

"Mhmm." You continue to trace your fingers over the palm of Ben's hand, loving the way it feels in yours. "You've got some big hands there mister."

"There isn't anything small about me Sweetheart, you know that. Got to see firsthand" Ben teases sitting up and leaning towards you with a smirk that makes you roll your eyes. He takes your free hand in his left brushing his thumb over the palm. "Yours are kinda small."

"Sorry sasquatch, we can't all have meat hooks."

"I like it." He murmurs.

"That you've got meat hooks for hands?"

"No, I like how small your hands are." He smiles crookedly at you in a way that makes your breath catch.

"Why?"

"Just take the compliment Petals."

"Well, no one has ever complimented my hands before so…"

"I'm sure that I can give a compliment to every part of your sexy body.”

"If you're about to start talking about my ass again, Ben I swear I'm going to lock you in a tree."

“Songs should be written about it. I’m just stating the obvious.”

You shake your head at him and continue to stroke your thumb over his palm while Ben does the same thing. He was being surprisingly gentle, holding your hand as if it was a fragile bird that could fly away at any moment.

“Why do you like my hands?”

Ben is quiet for a moment. “I don't know I kind of like how delicate they are, and I like how you always seem to have some dirt on them-“ Ben smooths his thumb over your palm. “I like how small they look in mine.” He mutters more to himself than to you.

“Ben?” You whisper.

He glances up, an ashamed look on his face. “Yeah?”

“I like how they look in yours too.”

“Really?”

You nod before you look back down at his hands with red cheeks. “I like how big yours are because they feel solid, strong, but also just a little bit gentle.” You could feel yourself blushing all over again. “When we first met, I didn’t think you could be, but you are.”

Ben scoffs.

“Stop.” You look up at him. “You don’t have to pretend right now, it’s just you and me.” You whisper, squeezing his hand encouragingly. "I know that you think that you have to be this tough, no feelings, jerk or playboy or toxic masculinity poster boy, but you don’t. Not around me. I love you and you opening up to me more is not going to make me stop or think less of you. You can tell me how you feel without me judging you."

The look in Ben’s eyes softens for a moment.

“I like the way you are when you’re around me.” You continue in a whisper. “You always seem softer and a bit happier.”

Ben doesn’t answer immediately, instead he continues to let you stroke along his hands. “I-um-I” He clears his throat. “I like who I am around you too.”

Your cheeks warm with his confession.

Ben clears his throat still looking down at your hand watching the gentle movement of your thumb against his skin. "Look, I-" He pauses. "I wasn't just trying to impress you."

"When?"

"At Vought."

"Then why-"

"I don't want you to worry about any of this shit anymore."

"What shit?"

"Paying rent, buying groceries that aren't name brand, walking because you can't afford a car-" Ben sighs. "Fuck, the day we went to IKEA, and you looked at the price of that couch, I hated how you looked and-"

"Ben it's okay. I budget things and it works out. I'm used to it-"

"But I'm not. It's not okay." His hand tightens in yours. "And I don't want you to worry about any of it."

"But-"

"No 'buts' Petals. "

"I don't want you to pay for everything all the time!" You shout.

"Why not?"

"Because it's your money-"

"Not anymore. You're my girl and that means you're not going to worry about any of it as long as I'm here."

"Do you think you're going to stay a long time?" You say it hesitantly, the part of you deep down that worried Ben couldn't be in an exclusive relationship rearing its ugly head all over again.

"As long as you want me here." The determination in Ben's eyes makes your heart stutter a beat, but there was just a little bit of something behind his gaze, something that looked like vulnerability, but it vanishes in the heat of his gaze.

"I'm pretty sure that I'm always going to want you here. It's too quiet without you."

“Then I’ll stay.”

Ben pushes you back against the bed, fitting his body over yours like a warm weighted blanket designed especially for you, kissing you with so much enthusiasm you're not sure that you remember how to breathe. You didn't understand how it could be like this, how you could feel this way about him especially after he annoyed you so much.

But just as he reaches down to grab your thighs to pull them up around his hips, your stomach growls loud enough to wake the dead.

Oh, holy fuck that is so embarrassing.

Ben hesitates and looks at you, your cheeks burning a bright red. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Um-" You clear your throat. "I mean I drank some of my latte earlier but-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"What?"

"I should have known." Ben sighs and extracts himself from the embrace of your thighs, getting up from the bed, and muttering something under his breath that you can't understand. “You always do this.”

"Wait, where are you going?" You ask him as you sit up.

"I'm going to find my fucking phone and order a pizza." He says, running his hand through his hair almost a little angry.

“It’s okay you don’t have to do that-“

“Yes, I do. I mean, fuck Petals, why don’t you ever remember to eat?” Ben grouses.

“Because I have a lot on my mind! A few things happened today, and I was upset because you weren't in the apartment when I got home and-"

Ben leans across the bed to kiss you, securing his large hand at the back of your head. "I'm sorry that you were upset. I swear that I'm going to make it up to you."

"Ben I’m pretty sure that you’ve spent the last four hours making it up to me-“

"Not long enough." He winks in a way that makes your throat tighten. "But let me find my phone.”

"Okay." You reach for his shirt on the floor prepared to help him find it, but Ben's hand comes down to your wrist to stop you. “Let me help.”

"Don't bother getting dressed Petals. This’ll only take a minute." He says with a wide smirk. "And I'm not done with you yet."

You're not sure how you ended up on the couch naked and eating pizza, but somehow that's exactly what happens. When the pizza guy had been buzzed up, Ben had answered the door only wearing a pair of his boxers, his chest still sweaty and his hair tugged in two different directions, but Ben couldn't have cared less.

Honestly, you'd had to stop him from answering the door naked. The guy had no sense of shame, but you figured that someone who had founded Herogasm and spent at least seventy five percent of his week bed-hopping, had probably lost his sense of shame years ago.

Bean and Rex were now sharing the dog bed in the corner, a surprising turn of events, but you hoped that it meant the two of them had sorted out whatever sibling problems they were having.

Ben's arm was thrown over your shoulders, pulling you further into him while you ate a slice of pizza with your head leaning against his arm.

I could get used to this.

You exhale a happy sigh and cuddle further into him. Ben wasn't a cuddler, but he was allowing you to cuddle against his arm. But he seemed to be enjoying himself, eating his own slice while taking sips of a glass of whiskey that he was sharing with you.

Sharing was a relative turn because the one time he gave you a sip, you'd sputtered it all out and almost coughed up a lung while Ben patted you on the back as hard as he dared, laughing all the while at you.

And predictably when Ben and you were done, he pulled you onto his lap, and the only thing you could think of was how wonderful you felt. Being with Ben made you feel vibrant and alive in the best way. He made you feel beautiful and made you feel as if Ben understood you more than anyone else ever had. That he saw through what everyone else called weird or unusual and loved you anyway. It was all you wanted for so long, a man who saw every part of you that others sneered at and fell head over heels.

Ben deepens the kiss, groaning into your mouth as his hands tighten on your hips hard enough to leave bruises, but you don't care. Everything about him felt right, the scruff of his beard scratching against your flushed cheeks, the smell of his shampoo (really yours) floating through the air with every breath you took of him, the soft pillow of his lips urgent as if he wanted to drink you in breath by breath and never come up for air, the rough trail of his calloused hands over your soft skin, and the hardness of his body molding around yours in the best way as you sat on top of him. You didn't feel self-conscious or uncomfortable, you couldn't, not when each time Ben touched you with a reverence as if wanted to savor you, to run his hands over every inch and discover new places that no one had ever been, and make you feel things that no one ever has or ever will.

You're so absorbed in Ben that you don't hear the jingle of keys in the lock of your front door, but you do hear the startled scream.

"What the fuck!" Annie screams as she enters the living room.

"Holy shit! Annie what the fuck are you doing here!?" You screech, diving off Ben and ripping the crocheted blanket off the back of the couch to cover yourself.

Annie had seen you naked before, what she hadn't seen was Ben naked or Ben and you having sex.

Oh, will the nightmare never end?

"I was just coming to find you! I was worried!" She shouts, her hand covering her eyes, but it was too late. You knew that she'd seen everything. And you mean EVERYTHING.

Well, it can't get any worse.

"Hey Annie did you find her and- OH HOLY FUCK!" Hughie exclaims as he enters the apartment behind Annie and immediately slaps his hand over his eyes so loud you can hear the sharp slap of his hand against his face. "I didn’t see anything!"

"Can someone shut the door before Mike comes in here and 'doesn't see anything either!'" You snap, clutching the crocheted blanket tighter against your chest. It was doing little to cover you, due to the wide spaces in between the granny squares, but it was the only thing big enough to cover all of you.

Because that's exactly what this situation needed, my neighbor coming in and getting everything on his Christmas list when he sees me naked on my couch.

"Why try to hide it baby?" Ben shrugs, leaning back against the couch not bothering to cover himself. "I want everyone to see what they can't have." He winks.

You smack him in the face with one of the couch pillows before shoving it into his lap. "You're not helping Ben." You wave a hand and a vine hanging on the back of your door shuts it with a slam.

"What?" Ben leans towards you with a salacious grin. "My girl is fucking gorgeous, should be the star of every wet dream-"

"Ben, I swear I will tie you up and-"

"But we already did that Petals." He grins. "I wouldn't mind doing it again-"

The wave of heat that travels through your body has nothing to do with embarrassment.

"Please do not finish that sentence." Annie interrupts, her hand still covering her eyes. "I'm already scarred for life."

"Join the club." Hughie mutters.

"You wouldn't have been scarred for life if you had just fucking knocked!" You shout at your friend. "Why are you here?"

"I was worried when you ran to the elevators and Ashley finally let me leave that ridiculous party! I tried to call you and you didn't answer, I went up to Ben's apartment and you weren't there, I called your grandmother and she said that she hadn't heard from you, so I figured you were here!"

"You called Di?" Ben asks.

"I was desperate!" Annie sighs. "I wanted to make sure she was okay-"

"Uh-huh well, you can see that she's fine and we were in the middle of something. Unless the two of you want to get another eyeful of my girl's perfect ass, you should clear out-"

"Ben!" You smack him on the shoulder.

"Absolutely, Annie let's go-" Hughie begins to say stepping backward with his hand over his eyes. He gropes through the air blindly trying to find her, but he comes up empty.

"Wait!" Annie removes her hand from her face, giving Ben a once over and not bothering to hide what she was doing.

"What do you have to wait for?" Hughie asks still reaching out for Annie with his eyes closed.

"Annie for fucks sake-" You groan, but Ben seemed to like all the attention.

She gives you a thumbs up. "I want details tomorrow."

It was more of a high five moment and you both knew it, but you weren't going to give her the satisfaction.

"ANNIE!" You huff face blushing an even brighter red. By now you were sure that you were as red as the strawberries that were hanging on the plant on your kitchen table.

"Bye babe!" Annie says cheerfully, pulling Hughie out the door behind her and slamming it.

"I'm going to kill her." You mutter under your breath, but Ben laughs.

"You're going to talk me up right baby?" Ben purrs wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you into him again. His lips fall to your ear, biting your earlobe before he murmurs. "Tell her all about how good I was?"

"Keep talking and I'm going to tell her that I had to fake it for four hours." You threaten.

It was an empty threat, like hell you were ever going to forget what Ben had done to you. And of course, you were going to tell Annie everything tomorrow over coffee or maybe over wine.

Definitely wine. I’m going to need to get a little bit drunk to cope with the thought that Hughie just saw me naked.

"Aww don't be like that Petals. We both know that you didn't fake anything."

“That you know.”

Ben’s gaze turns dark. “Oh really?” His grip on your waist tightens and he starts to pull the crocheted blanket away from your chest.

“Wait.” You say before you get distracted.

“What?” Ben pulls back. "What's wrong?"

"Annie called my grandmother, which means that she may have tried to call me." You look around the room for where your phone could be. It's between the couch cushions behind you and when you look at the screen you see that your grandmother had tried to call you twice, just as you suspected.

"So?"

"She called me. She must be so worried." You push the call button.

Your grandmother answers on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Hey Gran, I'm sorry I didn't pick up. I was-"

"You don't have to explain. I know that you must have been preoccupied." The way she says preoccupied makes your entire body flush bright red.

Oh, sweet baby peony, please tell me that my grandmother didn't watch Ben and me having sex.

"Please tell me that you didn't-" You begin to croak.

"I didn't mean to." She breezes, and she doesn't sound ashamed. "But then Annie called, and I was worried about where you were so I looked ahead a bit and-“

"Oh, for the love of lemon cream pie." You groan, curling up into a ball because that seems the right thing to do after you've found out that your grandmother had a front row seat to see what Ben and you over the past four hours.

The couch shakes beneath you, and you realize that Ben is laughing. You raise your head to glare at him.

"Looks like the cats out of the bag Petals." He croons.

"I will kill you." You narrow your eyes at him.

"Sweet Pea, I was alive when Ben went to yearly herogasms, there really isn't anything I haven't seen." You hear your grandmother say.

"That doesn't matter." You groan, pulling the crochet blanket over your head in shame. "This is mortifying."

"Petals it's okay." Ben rubs your back, but it's not helping. "I did some of my best work, and you really did some-“

"Please do not finish that sentence."

"Honey, I didn't see too much." Your grandmother soothes. "But I am happy you called, because I want to speak to Ben for a moment."

You hold up the phone from underneath the crocheted blanket, remaining inside your cocoon of shame.

I'm never going to be able to look her in the eyes every again. Holy fuck why me? Why me!? I’d rather Mike walk in here while Ben and I were fooling around on the couch.

"Di, what's wrong?" You hear Ben say into the phone, but you don’t come out of your cave.

"What's wrong?" Your grandmother asks calmly. "Oh, let me think for a second… You're a complete MOTHER FUCKING IDIOT!" Your grandmother shouts it so loudly that you could hear it vibrating through the room.

You peel back the crocheted blanket on your head to look up at Ben who seems just as surprised at your grandmother's insult.

"Wait a minute, what did I-"

"No! No talking!" She shouts. "I couldn't have been any clearer, could I? Maybe if I'd hit you over the head with a frying pan it would have cleaned out your ears! Or given your brain a good shake."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about?! I told you what you needed to do. I told you that you needed to come here and what did you fucking do? You broke my granddaughter's heart and went right back to Stan Fucking Edgar!"

Ben's eyes shift to yours and you swear you can see a flicker of regret spark behind his gaze. It makes you reach out and take his free hand, squeezing it to ground him here with you. You knew that Ben felt bad about leaving you like that, you heard it in his voice when he talked to you back at Vought, had seen the regret in his eyes when he told you that he ‘should have been there.’

"That's not-" Ben says half-heartedly, his gaze still on you.

"No! It's exactly what happened."

"Stop anticipating what I'm going to fucking say!" Ben snaps.

"And you stop interrupting me!" Your grandmother shouts back.

"But-"

"Benjamin, you better not fuck this up, because if you do, I will fuck you up." The threat hangs heavy in the air. "Now put my granddaughter back on the phone."

Ben huffs something under his breath and hands you back the phone, fuming. You give his hand another apologetic squeeze.

It was embarrassing enough that your grandmother had seen Ben and you having sex, but now you were mortified that she had yelled at him. You understood that they were friends, but Ben was still your boyfriend.

"Gran you shouldn't talk to him like that." You say into the phone, leaning into Ben's bare shoulder to show him that you weren’t angry with him. "He's apologized and it's okay-"

"It most certainly is not okay." Your grandmother says. "And somebody's got to talk to him like that, so it might as well be me."

"But Gran-"

"No buts sweet pea." She interrupts. "Now I know the two of you are busy today, but I would like you to come out here next week."

"Next week?"

"Yes. It's the annual town fall festival and I've got about a million things to bake, and I could really use the help." Your grandmother states. "Plus, Annie's mother is driving me up the wall about it and it would be nice to have someone here to make sure that I don't kill her."

"Oh okay." You frown and the thought of leaving Ben. The two of you had just finally worked it all out and now you were going to have to go back to Illinois. But you couldn't leave your grandmother high and dry. She needed you there and you loved your grandmother. "Well, I guess Ben can take care of Bean and Rex-

"I want to go." Ben interrupts you.

"Really?" You look at him surprised. "It's not something that you'd-"

"I want to go." He says firmly and this time it's Ben that squeezes your hand.

It made you smile, because you could see that Ben wanted to spend time with you even at something that he'd probably hate every second of.

Fuck, I love him so much.

"Okay. We'll be there." You reply to your grandmother, but you don't look away from Ben.

He's got that soft smile on his face, the one that you want to make him have every second for the rest of your life. You were sure that the same smile was mirrored on your own.

"Perfect. Now get back to doing whatever it was that you were doing, and don't forget to call me when you figure out what day you're going to start driving over."

"Drive? Wouldn't we fly?"

"Nope. For some reason you convince Ben that a road trip will be fun." She says knowingly and you realize that she's seen the future again. “Something about experiencing America in the 21st century.” You can imagine her waving her hand around as if she can’t quite understand.

"That's going to take some getting used to." You groan and wonder how much she had seen of your life. "Gran?"

"Yes, sweet pea?"

"Thank you. For everything."

"You're welcome." You could hear the smile in your grandmother's voice.

She didn’t need you to explain what you meant, she knew that you were talking about last week when she comforted you and tried her darndest to tell you that Ben and you were meant to be together. She had always been so patient with you, and you knew that she loved you just as you loved her. Going home was never a chore or something you dreaded. It was something that filled you with warmth, something that made you feel like you belonged, and the home was filled with the love your grandmother infused through the air with her thoughtful actions and kind words.

"I love you." You smile.

"I love you too sweetie. I'll see you next week."

You sit there in the silence for a moment, lowering the phone from your ear, before you look up at Ben.

"You okay Petals?" Ben drags the crocheted blanket away from your body, before he pulls you onto his lap.

"Yeah. I am." You smile, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to secure him against you. "Can you promise me something?"

"Anything." His hands settle comfortably on your hips, but Ben doesn’t look away from your face.

"That you won’t leave like that again." This time you reach down and pull his right hand up to your chest, directly over your heart so he can feel the gentle beat through his skin.

'Like-"

"Go all radio silent and take all your stuff and just vanish into thin air." You clarify. "I didn't like that. It scared me and I-"

Ben's other hand cups your cheek, pulling your face to his before you can finish your sentence. You can feel how sorry he is, how much he wants to make it up to you. You know deep down that Ben didn’t mean to do that to you, that he only did it because he was trying to push you away, but that didn't make it any less okay.

"I promise." He says into your mouth before nipping at your sore bottom lip and easing the pain with a sweep of his tongue against the soft flesh. "I won't leave like that again."

"Good." But instead of kissing him again, this time you press your forehead into his shoulder with a soft sigh, cuddling into him.

"Tired?" Ben's hand begins to circle at the base of your spine.

"Mhmm. You wore me out old man."

"I thought you were faking it."

"I wasn't faking all of it." You press a kiss into the shadow of his jaw, holding on to him. You wondered if Ben was okay with how clingy you were but given his hand placement you didn't think that it bothered him.

"Thought so." Ben chuckles. "Petals?"

"Hmm?" You hum into his skin, tightening your arms around his neck. He was wonderful and warm in the best way, like the perfect heating pad. Not to mention the way his muscles tensed around your body made goosebumps flicker over your arms. You could feel a wave of happiness and contentment crashing over your head, the longer you cuddled into him.

"Will you promise me something?" He mutters into the top of your head.

"Of course."

He’s quiet for a few moments. "That you won't leave either." Ben whispers it so quietly that you're not sure that you heard him correctly.

You pull back just a few inches to look him in the eye. He looks a little ashamed, and you can practically see the internal self-deprecating monologue inside his head, his face scrunching up in disgust. He opens his mouth, probably to take it back-

Your lips meet his, gentle, unyielding, pouring every emotion you have into it, your hands finding the strands of hair at the nape of his neck to hold him closer to you. You wanted Ben to understand that you would never judge him for that, that he could be vulnerable around you without consequence. And you wanted him to believe how much you loved him and how much he meant to you.

Ben moans into your mouth, pulling you tighter against his chest, your body molding against his in the best way, in the way that Ben only could. His hands were everywhere, trailing warmth in their wake, making the tiredness that you had felt minutes ago fade as you began to burn beneath his calloused palms.

He tasted good, he smelled good, and he felt so damn good that it made you feel like you were catching fire one cell at a time, burning until there was nothing left but stardust.

"I promise Ben." You whisper against his mouth before he swallows the words whole. "I promise that I'll never leave as long as you want me here."

He hesitates, hands stilling on your hips. An odd look crosses his face.

"Ben? What's wrong?" You cup his cheeks, worried about him.

"I-" He swallows, but looks frustrated with himself.

"It's okay." You whisper, brushing your lips against his, understanding exactly what it is that he's trying to say. "You don’t have to say it. I know. I love you too.”

And you did know. You knew that it was difficult for him to admit something like that, but you didn’t care. You knew that Ben loved you as much as you loved him, and that was enough for you.

You settle back down against his chest, holding him close to you.

“Come on Petals, let’s go to bed.” He murmurs into the top of your head.

“Can we just sit here for a few minutes?” You whisper into his throat, nuzzling into his warmth.

Ben’s hand gently trails along your back, holding you steadily on top of him. “Yeah. We can do that.”

And you wondered if Ben liked this as much as you did, if there was a piece of Ben that longed for the quiet moments you loved so much, and the quiet moments when it was just the two of you and no one else.

You feel him press a kiss to your hairline, and it’s enough to send you off into the sweet relief of sleep, swallowed and enveloped in Ben’s warm embrace.

A/N: Just a lovely bit of fluff and a little spice 😉. I really needed to just write a soft Ben and a reader enjoying their time together. 😊 There will be one more chapter that is a little bit of a time jump, but I think it will wrap up the series wonderfully! But don't worry, it won't be the last time I write for this reader and Ben. I have a mini-series planned and a few one-shots planned!

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

@spxideyver @zepskies @impala67stellawinchester

@reidtomewinchester @samanthadegaro @glossy01 @nikimisery

@tunnelvisionlove @incandxscents @winchester-stark @samahanta

@melonmochi

@kamisobsessed @whichwitchwanda @karolina-12110905 @jcollins03-blog

@pixviee @filmologetica @yvonneeeee @c1nnamong1rl29 @kmc1989

@livya99 @cherrygirl444 @tulipsvanilla @angrydragon90 @chi-raz

#jensen ackles #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfic #the boys #the boys fanfiction #the boys fanfic #the boys series #takeachanceonme #take a chance on me

83 notes · View notes

kingkat12 · 1 day ago

Note

omg I love your fics so so so much and I think you would absolutely nail a fanfic where roman is teaching reader how to smoke? or something like that 😭 like it being really intimate and stuff ughh idk but roman smoking just makes me go absolutely feral

Roman..... teaching reader.... how to smoke....?

do you.... want to give me..... a heart attack......?

THIS WAS SO DAMN HOT IT MADE MY BREATH HITCH WHEN I READ THIS, you BET i want to write this!!! you know me, i love writing reader having her first time doing anything at all lol, this was PERFEEEECT!! hope i've done your request justice, thank you so much for this one!!<3333

nymphomaniac (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, smoking, mentions of sex, angst, flirting deluxe, Roman's mouth is FOUL

summary: not all lessons are good for you-- especially the ones taught by the notorious Roman Godfrey, who you also happen to have a history with

word count: 2,425

a/n: and this is NO WAY an encouragement to smoke, i don't smoke myself so... heh. read at your own risk i suppose, and be critical of what you read on the internet PLEASE!! mwah

How to smoke – a thorough guide by Roman Godfrey. That was a book I wouldn’t buy in a million years; why give a millionaire more money?

Thankfully, I didn't have to pay anything to get a free trial from the author of said imaginary book.

Roman sat next to me on the porch leading up to the house of the party we were at, having asked me to follow him outside to escape all the noise. I wouldn’t have gone with him, had I not started to get a headache from what I could frankly only call ear-rape. “It’s too fucking loud in there,” I muttered, shifting on the uncomfortable step. “There’s a reason I don’t go to these things very often.”

Roman shrugged, patting down the pockets of his jacket. “It’s not usually this bad when someone else hosts. But I heard this guy is notorious for being legally deaf, so that might explain it,”

“I wouldn’t be shocked if he did that to himself,”

With a laugh, Roman pulled out an orange-hued box of cigarettes, shaking his head. “It’s too bad you don’t attend parties that often. I never see you anymore, y’know? Just bring some earplugs if you’re so bothered by the damn noise,”

Oh. My heart jumped with a jolt of pain. I cleared my throat; “Of course you don’t see me anymore, Roman… We broke up two months ago,”

Despite seeing it coming from miles away, it had been the hardest breakup of my life. I knew whom I had gotten into a relationship with, knew exactly what kind of a guy Roman was, so I had been emotionally prepared for it when it all fell apart. The relationship had been more of a whirlwind thing, a lust thing, which had left me with a very bad case of being-walked-in-on PTSD. That one time Roman decided he wanted to go down on me at school, only for my math teacher to walk in on us in the classroom, was a memory I was sure I would never forget. Sadly.

However, the bliss of being sexually compatible couldn’t carry the relationship forever, and I was aware of that long before he was. Around the time we hit the one-month milestone, I could see in his gorgeous green eyes that he was tired. Roman needed to be free to function, free to fuck any girl that walked by, and free to disappear for hours and come back whenever it pleased him.

And what did I need? I wasn’t so sure anymore.

If I were to use my brain and ponder that question once more, I would conclude that I needed to stop sitting next to my hot ex-boyfriend who was now lighting one of his classic cigarettes. Roman knew I didn’t approve, knew how many times I had told him it was cancer on a stick—still, I settled for the fact that he wasn’t scared of death. Actually, he probably wasn’t scared of anything other than real commitment.

With a sigh, Roman nodded to himself. “I’m aware, but I’m still allowed to miss the sight of you,” He turned to me, his strikingly green gaze piercing mine— I held my breath. This was getting intense. Nonetheless, the next thing that rolled out of his mouth caught me off guard; “Do you have a lighter?”

… What? “Roman, you know I don’t smoke,”

He shrugged, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smirk. “Worth a shot. I had hopes that you’d at least managed to become an arsonist in our time apart, maybe then you’d carry a lighter around with you,” Like this, faced with his heartbreakingly beautiful smile beneath the hues of the moonlight, I was reminded of the first thought I ever had when I met him; he was so… cool. Roman always looked so damn cool. I loved the way it made my heart flutter— the feeling of being with the coolest guy at school was still the most thrilling feeling of all. I felt cool, knowing he wanted to sit next to me instead of being inside the loudest party of the year hunting down his next lay.

It was impossible not to smile back. “Don’t be so disappointed. At least I’m still a cannibal,”

Humored, Roman chuckled; “Glad to hear it,”

“And you’re still a nymphomaniac,”

That seemed to strike a nerve— Roman let out an offended huff, now patting down the pockets of his jeans. “Forget it. I never go anywhere without my lighter, anyway,” he mumbled.

Oh no. “I didn’t mean it as an insult! We were joking, Roman. You’ve never been the type to hide that you like… sex—”

“Don’t fucking talk to me about sex right now, I’m too tipsy,” Roman’s words were harsh, snappy. He wasn’t looking at me anymore, now fishing out his usual red lighter; I hadn’t seen that one in a while. “No sex-talk. None.”

“Fine, Jesus!—”

“Thanks to you, I now have to smoke away the taste of you. Thank you,” he grumbled, a slight twitch appearing beneath his left eye as he brought the cigarette to his plush lips— oh, how I missed those. “Your perfume isn’t helping, either. So don’t talk about sex, because then I’ll start thinking about sex with you, along with how you taste after I’ve been going down on you for about ten minutes, squirming, whining, and then I start thinking of how much I miss it. So could you just—just shut up for a minute, okay?”

I stared at Roman in disbelief, my lips parting as my jaw threatened to hit the floor. He must’ve had a few beers too many to be talking so openly about… anything. I would go off on him about his use of words, telling me to shut up, but I was too stunned to think properly. With my mind still buzzing, I scooted closer to Roman on the cold steps of the porch, daring to lean my head down on his shoulder like I used to do when we were together. “You’ve only proved my point,” I breathed, closing my eyes. “Nympho.”

I knew him too well— I knew Roman would appreciate casual physical contact. He didn’t have enough of that in his life, anyway. Chuckling, amused, he lit his cigarette, inhaling with a quiet moan— something told me he had been waiting for a hit for some time. And just as I opened my mouth, ready to start my usual smoking-is-bad lecture, Roman cut me to it; “Don’t start talking about cancer now, either,”

“It is a cancer stick,”

“I don’t care,”

“You should!”

“But I don’t,” With a sigh, Roman exhaled, watching the smoke evaporate into the warm summer air. He leaned his head on top of mine, and I couldn’t help but think how the smell of the cigarette clashed with the comforting smell of his shampoo. It ruined everything.

This conversation was one we’d had tens of times, and I wasn’t too keen on repeating it. “Roman…” I reached for the cigarette he lazily held between his fingers, feeling the softness of his hand against mine. “Maybe you don’t care, but I do. You need to take care of yourself.” I didn’t need to look at Roman to know his brows were drawn together as I took the cigarette out of his hand, holding it away from him.

He sighed again, slower this time; “If you’d ever smoked, you’d see the appeal,”

“Yeah?” It was hard not to roll my eyes— “The appeal of cancer?”

With a low laugh, Roman turned his head, kissing the top of my head out of habit. Weirdly enough, it felt platonic for the first time ever, yet it didn’t fail to evoke a hard thump in my chest. It felt like I was being electrocuted from the inside, and my eyes sprung open—I was happy he couldn’t see that. “Not cancer, don’t be stupid,” he huffed. “Just use that pretty little brain of yours, I know it’s in there somewhere,”

If only he knew my brain was currently working overtime. “I’ll never see the appeal of inhaling crap that ruins your lungs. If anything, you’re the stupid one,”

Roman rolled his eyes, gently giving my head a nudge with the shoulder I was leaning on, motioning for me to sit up. “Let me show you, just once. If you don’t like it, you’re allowed to call me a nicotine-addicted nymphomaniac until the last day of high school,”

“And the day after. An extension for your favorite ex,”

“Nope. The day of graduation, and that’s it,”

I turned to look at the blindingly pretty smile on Roman’s face— how was it possible not to fall for this guy? He was gorgeous. “Fine,” I mumbled, knowing I would call him that no matter what behind his back until the day he died. “So how the fuck do I do this?”

Something in Roman’s green, green, eyes shifted. Maybe he was wondering why he had ever let me go in the first place— maybe he was thinking about the word to describe the color of my hair as it mixed with the grays of the moonlight? He cleared his throat, turning his body towards me as I mirrored him; “The first step is easy,” he said, reaching forward to place his hand behind mine, bringing the cigarette to my lips.

My skin burned. Fucking burned, with every touch.

Roman’s eyes were already big, which is why I was surprised to see they could get even bigger when he gazed down at my lips. “Open up,” he breathed, absentminded.

Now, I could be sure he wasn’t thinking about the color of my hair. Maybe he was back to reminiscing about the taste of me? Or other nasty nympho things, as per usual.

I placed the cigarette between my lips, but Roman let out a short, alarmed sound that nearly made me yelp. “Now comes the trick,” he urged, leaning closer— I was unsure whether he was aware he was inching towards my face or not. The closer he got, the easier it was to focus on the single strand of his dark hair that lay over his forehead, straying from his stylings. It was so damn attractive— I had to hold myself back from smiling, now that I remembered the one time I caught him pulling it out of his gelled updo to lay it there on purpose. Cutie.

“The trick?” I echoed, realizing he had frozen to his spot just staring at my lips. I pulled the cigarette away from my mouth; Roman hadn’t said anything for about five seconds. This was bad. This was dangerous. It made me want to jump him and let him fuck me right here on the porch.

“Uh—” Roman cleared his throat, letting out a breathy chuckle as he shook his head. “Sorry. The trick, right…”

God, I was two seconds away from bursting into flames like a phoenix. Was I still breathing?

“For your first time, you should— because this is your first time, right?”

“Yes!”

“You sure?”

“Roman!”

“Alright, alright!” Roman laughed, biting his lip as he tilted his head just a little. Had the cigarette not forced a space between us, I would’ve started wondering when he would kiss me. “The trick is to not inhale too much smoke for your first time. I don’t want you to cough up your left lung on my new shirt. And hold the smoke in your mouth for a moment, let it cool down, and only inhale it when you’ve taken the cig out of your mouth.”

If Roman one day actually did decide to write a smoking-guide, I could at least be sure the content would be explained simply and concisely. “Seems easy enough,” I mumbled, watching Roman’s pupils widen as I placed the cigarette back between my lips and sucked in a small amount of smoke into my mouth.

It felt like I was getting a mild burn on my tongue— it wasn’t pleasant. For a second, I got scared my eyes would pop from the shock, and I closed them to ensure the blood at least wouldn’t splatter anywhere if I happened to be so unlucky. But when the burning subsided, I finally dared to inhale.

My eyes sprung open, meeting the fascination in Roman’s green gaze as my previous headache caused by the loud music disappeared. My brain suddenly felt like it was buzzing with pleasure and energy. Before I knew it, I was half giggling against Roman’s mouth, letting my cigarette-clad hand fall by my side. “Wow,” I breathed, in awe of the satisfying whirring in my head.

Roman looked like he was two seconds away from cooing at me, right in my face; “There you go, good girl,” he purred. “Do you get it now?”

God, I hated myself. Still, what I hated more, was that my hot ex-boyfriend was blatantly right. “I think I do,”

Roman hummed, smirking as he reached for the cigarette in my hand, smoothly brushing his fingers across my skin on his way down. With a content sigh, he looked into my dazed eyes as he pressed his free fingers over the pulse of my wrist— “I still make your heart jump,” he breathed, leaning in so close I could feel the hotness of his breath against my cheek.

I swallowed. “You always will. It doesn’t mean anything,” My eyes flickered back and forth between Roman’s green eyes and his plush, pink lips despite knowing I shouldn’t.

“It doesn’t?” he echoed, visibly amused as he raised his brows.

“… Nope,”

Roman hummed, nudging the tip of my nose with his just as he always did—was this maybe just a habit, or was he going to…? The atmosphere was so thick, I could reach out and touch it. My breath had long caught in my chest, but Roman’s next words only made it worse; “Let’s talk about sex again,” he whispered against my lips, his lashes hanging heavy over his eyes.

“No. This is over. We’re just sharing a cigarette,”

“We could share a bed too,”

“Stop it,” I breathed, hoping he’d spot the desperation in my eyes. “It’s been two months. Aren’t you over this?” Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.

Roman stilled. With the next beat of my pulse against his fingers, his eyes softened with a new realization beneath the moonlight;

“Over you? Never,”

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #hemlock grove #bill skarsgård #fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #bill skarsgard #oneshot #smut ish #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgard fanfiction #hemlock grove fanfiction #THIS WAS SO FUN #AND HOT?#JUST ME?#MY GOOOOD #smoking

66 notes · View notes

bi-bi-buckleys · 1 day ago

Text

Can I just throw this out there after seeing that post and the reply to it:

We don’t know WHY Oliver never posted a picture of Lou. I think the immediate thought was “oh they must not get along” or “lol clearly Oliver hates Lou” and that just stuck but we genuinely don’t know?? Maybe they aren’t close (Lou pretty much said as much in that one interview where he said he didn’t really know Oliver that well), but why does that automatically mean hate? Neither of them have ever said anything negative about the other in interviews. It could just be that they weren’t close.

One could just as easily theorize that Oliver didn’t post photos of Lou out of worry that it could invite more negative comments. Oliver posts a photo of Ryan, and people comment weird shippy stuff, which is obnoxious I’m sure but it’s not hateful. If he posted a photo of Lou, I can imagine the results would be some people being happy to see them, and certain others being awful and gross and upping the hate. It wouldn’t be Oliver’s fault, but I personally would feel like I just made things worse.

Maybe Lou didn’t want his picture taken on set because of the death threats and hate. He doesn’t get those when he posts about SWAT, but god forbid if there was a pic by Oliver, that side of the fandom would froth at the mouth. Maybe he asked for Oliver to not post any and Oliver agreed not to. Maybe it’s the same thing for why no one stood up the hateful comments, the idea of “don’t give them attention, it’ll only make things worse.” Imagine if Oliver had said something with the hopes of making it stop, do any of us really see that as happening? He probably would have been harassed just as much, and Lou would have gotten more. Like the thought is nice, and the side of the fandom that doesn’t send hate would have been supportive, but the other side would have absolutely gone on the attack, directed at both of them.

Point is, we Just. Don’t. Know. We have so little real insight that any idea that gets tossed out could be legit. We could say they hatred each other, we could say they were indifferent to each other, we could say they didn’t want to spur on the more negative side of the fandom, hell we can say they didn’t interact on social media or post about each other because they’re dating and want to keep it a secret! All of it could be feasible because we have so little to go on. It’s just telling that a certain subsection of the fandom has decided it must be hate.

#wow this got long #911 #911 discourse #lou ferrigno jr #oliver stark

27 notes · View notes

lillotte17 · 2 days ago

Text

Okay, I’ve done 2 play throughs and I’m well into my 3rd, so I feel like my review of the game can be (mostly) fair and not as emotionally driven as it was when I finished the first time. (this is very long >_>)

I want to start with the good things!

The game is beautiful. BEAUTIFUL. I was not crazy about the stylistic change of the graphics from DAI at first, but once I started playing, I really loved it. The maps are huge and unique. I find something new every time. I love all the little puzzles and sneaky little side quests you can find. I the little sneaky cameos of items and songs from other games.

I love the mechanics of being able to use companions’ special abilities when they are not in your party. I still wish we got 3 people in our party instead of just 2 for balance reasons, but otherwise I find the fighting really engaging and dynamic.

I love that they brought back specific banter spots, shortened the time between when the next banter triggers AND allowed for recovery of the conversation if it got interrupted by something. Thank you for my LIFE. Waiting for certain banters to trigger in DAI was awful lmao.

I really appreciated the effort they put into the CC, allowing for greater body type differences and the various gender options. Long hair, curly hair, please and thank! The CC took some getting used to, but once I got the hang of it, it’s fun just to build characters, lol.

I really liked the easy upgrades and enchantments for your armors, and I LOVED being able to wear whatever the best armor was, but have a different armor visible. Great call, team! Do that for always and ever. The only qualm I had was that I would have liked to be able to change the colors on some of the outfits, but really, there was such a good variety, this is a very minor complaint.

In terms of storyline, my favorite quest was the Blood of Arlathan, and I also liked the final push at the end through Minrathous. Big surprise that the things I liked best was actually getting to fight with Solas on my team again, lol. But those where also the times where it really felt like everything was on the table, you know? Weisshaupt was a strong contender, too. That quest was so fasted paced, it made it a little hard to appreciate just how much was going on around you. But asking your local assassin to stab a god-cloud is never not funny, so that one gets good points, too.

Overall, the gameplay is really strong. The rollout was really smooth. I didn’t really encounter any bugs, except for one time I managed to change all the subtitles to French? But I think that might have been a user error. If I was just here for a generic fantasy game, this would get 10/10. It’s fun to play and it’s pretty. You can stab stuff, and throw magic around, and there are dragons.

However…

The storyline and the pacing was a mess. Which is honestly baffling from a BioWare game. I am not saying this with spite or hatred, because I know that EA tried to kill this game repeatedly, so it’s kind of amazing that we got anything at all, BUT it’s still frustrating, because…I can SEE IT. I can SEE all the pieces of a REALLY good story. An AMAZING story. The story I WANTED to play!!! And it’s like…it all got put together wrong.

The nearly nonexistent romances are honestly the worst offenders here. Even if they wanted to keep the rating down to make it more accessible to a wider audience, there is no reason why I should only have ONE opportunity to kiss my love interest over the course of an 80+ hour game. SOLAVELLAN had more unique romance scenes and kisses than you get with Lucanis and he DUMPS your character before coming back to steal your hand. Not to mention the fact that it is possible for your LI to die before you ever get to actually say you love them or anything. Davrin was my first romance. At the end of Tearstone Island like…I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t feeling my PCs grief that her boyfriend whom she had kissed exactly one time was dead. I was PISSED. I don’t think I have ever been so mad about a writing choice, and I am a certified Tragedy Enjoyer. It didn’t even feel like a good tragic blow, because they didn’t take the time to build up the romance before killing him. And Rook hardly gets a second to mourn afterwards, so it was just kind of a nothingburger that made me feel like I wasted all the time I had spent playing for it. (I went back and changed it so he lived but jfc)

Speaking of killing characters: Varric. It was a mistake. I know what they were going for. I see what they were trying to do. But it was a mistake. First of all, they relied way too much on the idea that the player has played the other games, in the sense that the story just opens with Rook already with Varric, who they have known for over a year, and then they turn around and nerf him in the first act. There’s no time to establish how Rook feels about Varric, or how they feel about this quest they’ve been on for so long, you just get thrown into it without preamble. And then, Varric is just kind of… there. He’s Rook’s cheerleader, but he almost never has any real advice, and you almost never get to have a discussion with him. Which means, when you find out what happened to him later, the emotional blow is relying almost entirely on your attachment to Varric from previous games instead of the game you are currently playing.

Also, I figured out he was dead pretty early on, so the reveal had almost no impact, and felt a bit ham-fisted, if I’m being honest.

The second reason it was a mistake is that…it just felt like an excuse to make the player hate Solas. Like, it honestly feels like that is the only reason they did it. Which seems so unnecessary? The man is responsible for the fucking blight and the death of the titans and is currently trying to tear the Veil down, and you think that’s not ENOUGH motivation for the PC to want to give him the middle finger???

Which brings us to: Solas. I love this man. I love Solavellan. I love his story. I love THEIR story. But…if I had played this game first, I don’t think I would have cared about redeeming him. All of the companions tell stories about second chances and redemption and being able to change your nature, and I KNOW that was supposed to be in reference to Solas, I know it was but… It just felt like they did almost nothing to SHOW you how much he was trying to do the right thing every time he fucked up. How badly he wanted to be a hero and a protector, and someone giving wisdom instead of orders. When we saw his regrets and talked about them with the team, I really thought it was going to be relevant later. I thought it would come up in conversation with Solas, and depending on how you talked to him about the things you saw, you could slowly guide him towards choosing a better path at the end. I thought it would all be on Rook, and their choice to take a chance to try and redeem him or not. But in the end, it didn’t matter. It only unlocked Mythal. She was the only thing that made a difference. Not Rook. Not your Inquisitor. Not any of the other choices you made in the entire game or the one that preceded it. Don’t get me wrong, I am SO grateful they squeezed a Solavellan ending in there for us, really and truly. But the fact that he was so in love with her during DAI that he was about to give up everything without her even asking, and he’s so torn up about her during Trespasser that he can hardly let her close to him because just being in proximity to her makes him want to stop everything and stay with her, and then when she shows up at the end of Veilguard and asks him to stop…he pauses for even less time to consider the option than when ROOK asks. And then Mythal holds more sway with him by like 1000%. Just. Felt very much like a downgrade. (Also I wanted a hug. He needed a fucking hug and my Lavellan would have hugged the Bad Choices right out of him)

There are other things. Dwarves getting sidelined again. Slavery in Tevinter barely being touched on. The weird idea of the Crows being a good option for orphans with nowhere to go. The SUPER uncomfortable end of Bellara’s quest where a non-elf Rook can have an opinion on what she should do with the history of her people. But those are kind of like…small potatoes. Typical BioWare story flubs tbh.

I know, my complaints are much longer than my praises, but I really do like playing the game. Really and truly. It is a good game, and I am eternally grateful that they got it to us at all. I just…wish we could have gotten the story I think they wanted to tell us, instead of what we ended up with. But as they say: That’s what Fanfic is for. <3

#dragon age: the veilguard #spoilers #datv critical #It's not all bad!#there is a lot to like about this game #but there are things to Not Like too #i tried to give it a fair breakdown #and i really do sympathize with all the BS the creators had to go through to give us what we got #and i appreciate it #truly truly

24 notes · View notes

anisespice · 2 days ago

Text

“ PARTY AT A RICH DUDE’S HOUSE ”

synopsis: after getting dumped, your friends propose you crash his house-party and completely wreck the place using the guise of the rambunctious partygoers as cover. little did you know, someone's been watching you.

warnings: mature language, mentions of violence, vandalism, suggestive undertones, MDI. tesla slander(?) hate those cars so so so much. i honestly don't know, i think this one's pretty tame :))

notes: kesha lives rent free in my head lol. also got inspired by that scene from the movie “bottoms” where they blow up the douchbag’s car >:))) not sure how i feel about it :// but it was fun to write helped with writer's block sooo hope you enjoy!!

notes ii: yall WHY WON'T WORDS WORD ANYMORE I-

It wasn’t difficult infiltrating the party. With all the commotion pouring inside and out, people taking full advantage of their host’s endless bounds of resources and bottomless pockets, blending in was a snap. Immediately, your senses were overwhelmed with the stench of sweat and bad decisions. Smoke clouded your vision as did the rumbling bass of the music, the music rattling you to where you could feel it in your bones.

An annoyance builds every time a partygoer bumped into you as you sifted through the crowds, driving you to start elbowing and shoulder-checking everyone around you. You received stank looks and slurred curses, but it merely molded with the rest of the noise surrounding you.

They were all basically there to celebrate your misery, so fuck them.

Even though you were on the prowl for the douche-nozzle himself to give him a piece of your mind, at some point you got caught up with various cups of who know's what in your hand, downing them like a fish out of water. You welcomed the delightful burn as it rolled down your esophagus, seeping into the wounds of your broken heart, and right into your stomach like a hot stone. You fought back the urge to vomit fire, body vibrating as you mentally set your mission on a different course...the garage.

“Y’know, that’d go a lot quicker if you used this.”

You yelped. Nearly slipping off of the cyber truck you were currently jumping on you regained balance in the last second, crouching down to slap your hands on the cool metal to steady yourself. While attempting to put a dent through the aluminum foil-ass top, you failed to notice your lone audience member chilling in a corner of the 10-car garage. How long he’d been standing there, you had no idea. All you knew was you had about four seconds to either teleport or hightail it to the nearest exit before he got a good look at your face.

“Shitshitshit,” you hissed, hurriedly and clumsily sliding down off the car, ready to book it. You really wished you hadn't drank as much before attempting to do this, but in your defense, you weren't expecting to have...company. However, as soon as your feet touched the floor, the stranger coaxed out to you with a free hand raised in peace, delaying your panicked scrambling.

“Hey, hey, relax. Believe me, if I wanted to narc on you I would’ve done so when you lit those firecrackers off in the guest bathroom. Hilarious, by the way."

Your heart sunk. An uneasy feeling formed in the pit of your stomach, not sure whether to be relieved or devastated—Question is, why didn’t he tell anyone?

Remaining vigilant you peered over your shoulder at him, guard up. “Who're you?”

He raised a brow. “Pretty sure that’s my line, sweetheart.”

You glared, turning around fully to scrutinize him. From the way he was dressed—Designer from head to toe even if on the casual side, blinding Rolex on his wrist paired with a few rings, equally icy studs in his ears along with a thin, and golden chain rested upon his toned, inked chest—He had money, no doubt about it. Not too bad on the eyes either..

Shaking your head of that last thought, you scoffed, “Don’t call me that. ‘m not anyone’s ‘sweetheart’.”

He shrugged, coyly. “Be happy to fix that, if you’d like.”

“Do I look in the mood for funny shit?"

He chuckled, tilting his head. “Nah, 'course not. Look more like you’re itching to bust some more shit up. But, gotta say, how you’re going about it s’kinda redundant. Those things may look like they're made out of construction paper, but you’ll tire out before you even make single scratch. So.. figured you’d appreciate a more practical approach.”

Too preoccupied giving him the stank eye, you hadn't seen the weapon rested in his other hand. Once you set your eyes on it and allowed his words to fully register, they slowly widened. The stranger’s grin sharpened at your muted interest, flicking his wrist to spin the slab of metal around before resting it coolly on his shoulder.

"Ah, crazy girl’s in the mood now?"

Your curiosity morphed back into annoyance instantly at his cheeky comment. “I am not crazy.”

He hummed. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Look, smartass, I'll have you know that I have a very good reason—” you pointed, ready to dump hours of alcohol-fueled rage on this stranger, only for him to immediately extinguish it with a mere wave of his hand.

“And you can tell me all about it when we go out for dinner after this. You want the bat or not?"

You paused, confused. Flabbergasted, even. Did this fool just ask me out?, you thought. Maybe you were just a little bit too tipsy and misheard, so you let it slide for now. With a huff, you finally said, skeptically, "Why...are you helping me?"

The stranger merely shrugged once more, eyes coated in mischief as he gave another spin of the bat. "Doesn't every criminal need a henchman?"

BAJI, HANMA, kazutora, mikey, draken, most of toman really, rindou, ran, izana,[insert anyone else who would fit].

#🍁wasabi #tokyorev #tokyo revengers #alexa play 'blackout' by breathe carolina #tokyorev x reader #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers x reader #tr x reader #tokyorev headcanons

52 notes · View notes

blood-drawn-by-love · 3 days ago

Text

For those who are wondering where to go for community as obey-me’s’ downfall is on the horizon;

a bit of a dramatic title lol I propose my community: The Blood Drawn by Love fandom! (Rated 16+)

It is not a fully finished game like obey me, (yet) however it still has content (fanfic, fanart, insert ocs, official art, ect. Even some finished game OST’s!) and currently a small community, which if that is something your looking for we have it.

plus BDBL has overlapping themes as obey me so if you still need to fulfill that demon-boyfriend itch you’ve come to the right place.

read more for further elaboration:

TLDR/summary: You accidentally steal a spell book, transporting yourself into the underworld, ending up having to jump through hoops with the help of an abnormally kind.. demon? He doesn’t seem to like that title. Only to be wrapped up in another conquest that seems bigger than life itself, traveling through the realms and eventually facing Lucifer himself as he took notice of you and your teams deeds throughout the rings.

Shockingly enough obey me didn’t really inspire this game pretty much at all, just for the record.

Blood Drawn by Love is an adventure visual novel with dating sim elements and battle mechanics and so far 20+ characters to interact with. The MC is as neutral in identifying features (such as gender, race, and body type) as I could make them.

here is the discord server.

a significantly longer explanation of the plot:

You play a human who’s really down on their luck recently and while walking by a carnival you spot one of those fortune teller tents. Not having much else to do, you go and get your fortune told. Couldn’t hurt, right? At most you’d loose a few dollars.

It doesn’t look good so the ‘teller’ goes to set up a luck spell.

You end up bumping into a small shelf, causing a few items and a book to fall off of it, next thing you know the air is cold and your waking up somewhere you don’t recognize.

However luck finally beams upon you as your found by someone who looks just a little different than all the other scary creatures you’ve seen.

from than on you realize you’ve been transported to the underworld via the wrong potion falling on the open transport page of the tellers spell book, of whom is actually one of the strongest known witches who would be pissed to know you lost their book.

you both go and adventure the realms to find it, only to get roped up in another, much longer winded scheme of having to save each realm from their own sins personified. Who knew Satan would be a horse and not a red guy with horns and wings? You travel through each ring and learn their various cultures, species, and customs. You meet a lot of strange people but they don’t seem that bad, they’re quite charming in their own ways, even. by time your help is no longer needed you find yourself with a new found community, and potentially love. Would staying be so bad?

#bdbl #dating sim #blooddrawnbylove #game development #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me fandom #Fandom #am I capitalizing on OM’s foreseen shut down? …maybe 😭#One door closes another one opens as they say #visual novel

22 notes · View notes

writingsfromhome · 2 years ago

Text

The Ex-Text

Epilogue: what’s next

A/N: this isn’t so much an epilogue than a part two but it just fit better to call it one lol. But it’s the final instalment in the Ex-Text so make sure you read the first two. As always, ty for reading this far <3

Prologue (text) / Main (ex) / Epilogue (what’s next)

—————————

It was a bit of a wet morning but I was determined to have a good day. And it’s like the world listened because by the time I got my morning coffee the sun had decided to kiss my skin hello. It was a Friday, I had a weekend of bachelorette festivities—our last girls weekend before Taz officially married next weekend. And I was going to a job I loved after changing roles last year, and getting promoted to the position I’d been chasing after.

It had been a year and 7 months since the night I decided to change. It wasn’t linear by any means but I had a better sense of who I was and what I wanted nowadays. I stuck up for myself, and felt less end-of-the-world if someone didn’t like me. I wasn’t perfect all the time, but things were better.

I’m so excited for tomorrow, I read Taz’s text in the lift up. I’d set up a spa day for the bridesmaids, and then a potentially rowdy evening across a few bars with a scavenger hunt. As the maid of honour I took my duties very seriously. I was friends with most of the invitees either from childhood or through Taz—there were a handful of girls from high school that Taz and I were friends with who I hadn’t seen in a while. It was going to be an interesting weekend.

***

“So YN,” Taz’s cousin slides in beside me wiggling her phone. This was our second pub on the list and she had the lead for the scavenger hunt by two. The group had enough drinks that everyone was loud and comfortable even though not everyone knew each other well. “How far along are you?”

“I’m not playing,” I made the game. I tell her that.

“Oh c’mon!” She looks at the girls sitting near us. “You’re just trying to get out of some of these! Like kiss a stranger, or find a way to write your number on someone’s arm? You’re cheeky with these—find someone to do a musical number with—“

“That’s how I know I’m not winning the hunt,” Felicity says. “I’m shite at dancing.”

“No you was so good back in school,” Taz giggles as she catches up. “Dots was even better, remember when she went with that wanker to the year 11 dance and oh what was his name-“

“I heard my name,” Dots pokes her head through. “You lot are loud.”

“Have you heard them?” Taz’s cousin points to the other end of the table. Someone’s getting a shot poured directly into their mouth.

“Taz are you participating in the hunt?” Felicity waves her phone that has the app pulled up.

“I’m getting married in a week so…only the PG ones.”

“No one’s going to say anything if you do number 7,” Dots winks. I smile uncomfortably, remembering the grip the peer pressure these girls had in high school that lead me to some pretty bad decisions.

“Taz is too much of an angel to do anything like that,” I try to swoop in for her.

“Then you should do it for her.” Dots says, her eyes alight with mischief. “Since you’re not playing. That way the bride-to-be has a chance to win.”

“Yeah!” Felicity jumps right into the plan eagerly. “It’s not like you’re dating someone right?”

“I…”

“I don’t need to win that bad,” Taz tries to come to my rescue but the plan is too enticing for these girls.

“Oh yeah YN you never got back on the horse after…Ethan?” Taz’s cousin mouths the word like he was going to appear if she said it too loud.

“No it’s…” I’m tempted to lie. To look good. Everyone leans in to hear the end of my sentence and I blurt out. “It’s complicated.”

“Ooh what’s that mean?” They move in closer and I feel crushed. I avoid Taz’s eye, she knew I hadn’t dated in forever. Not for lack of wanting, but I found opening myself up to new people was more exhausting than it used to be. Being in one long term relationship after the other, then taking a huge break, now dating felt like learning to walk again.

“Um,” I try to backtrack on the lie. “It’s just complicated but technically I’m not dating someone right now!”

“Wait so you’re not bringing a plus one to the wedding?” Someone asks.

“Well I-“

“You should invite the guy! If he comes you know he’s serious and if he doesn’t…”

“Yeah!” Felicity grabs my arm. “Invite him! I want to see Ethan’s rebound that manwhore.”

“It’s not really a rebound when it’s been years,” Taz says. I agree, but I’m also touched by the vehemence in Fel’s voice when she talks about Ethan.

“Well screw the guy. If he’s complicated, you can kiss anyone you want at any bar you want. So?”

“YN,” Taz’s murmur catches my attention. She shoots me a warning, I had to put my foot down. Not give in because I wanted to please. I should but with this many eyes on me I chicken out.

“Fine. But maybe pick number 7 at the next bar, this group looks uni aged.” I feel Taz’s disappointment beside me.

“So? I had a thing with a 21 year old last summer,” Fels shrugs.

“Ew. Didn’t you feel like his mother?” Taz asks and I laugh, a bit of the pent up energy releasing with it.

“No, he was a big boy. He knew how to take care of himself.” She grins. The topic shifts to her and I think I’m forgotten until the hour hits and we decide to move places.

“Okay YN I know you’ve mapped this all out but if we’re trying to get you a good number 7 I know a better place where I used to live. Last summer actually.” Felicity links her arm through mine as we walk out.

“We know how well that went,” Taz’s cousin teases.

“Exactly! May I? Girls! Change of location on the third cuz Taz has to win tonight-“

“I really don’t want the gift card that badly.” Taz says but it’s drowned out by everyone cheering. God we were all well on our way to drunk.

***

“That one,” someone whispers to me. She points to a tall blonde with a cardigan on.

“Mmm too bookish,” someone else says. Somehow the whole group was debriefed on the way over that I was to have the most epic kiss with a stranger for Taz’s sake. Because even though she had three other missing items on her list, doing this would make her win.

“Well that creep over there just bought me shots,” Taz slurs. We look to where she points, it’s a guy who had been a potential kisser. The group crosses him out as well as the line item on her list. Now she was down to 2 to win.

Felicity had led us to her old local area, one I hadn’t spent much time in but sounded familiar. Even though I’d planned the pub crawl to the detail I had to let go of the control and go with the crowd.

“Okay YN you have to do this now,” Dot says. “You can kill two birds, then Taz is free to win.”

“Doesn’t anyone else want to win?” I ask pathetically.

“No!” The group encourages me. “You need this too YN!”

“Him,” Fels points to a guy sitting at the bar. He’s talking with the bartender who’s laughing at whatever he’s saying. “Look, he’s funny and nice enough to talk to the bartender. He’ll give you a nice smooch.” She kisses my cheek with this statement.

“Oh he’s cute,” Taz says and I glare at her.

“You can’t even see his face.” I tell her.

“Yeah but his hair is nice,” she rubs my cheek where Felicity kissed me. “And his shirt stretches nicely over-“

“Okay bride-to-be,” she was such a traitor.

“What? A girl can’t look?” Taz asks. She wraps an arm around my shoulder and leans in. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know,” but with all these girls waiting on me to I didn’t have another choice. I just had to get over it. Plus I hadn’t kissed someone in over a year so I wasn’t complaining if he was cute. And Taz was right, from the back he was cute. “Fine.”

I step away from the crowd and they all gasp. They get ready for the show and so do I. I clear my throat, push my shoulders back—my cleavage looked great in this dress so I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt, and head over. My stomach drops with nerves but I take a deep breath and tap the bloke on the shoulder.

My lungs deflate like a released balloon when the face looking back at me is Harry. Harry the ex-texter.

He blinks, then blinks some more. Meanwhile I stand there staring.

“YN!?” Harry turns the barstool to face me. His neck must’ve started cramping.

“I-uh,” I glance back at the girls and they’re all pretending not to stare but it’s a bad attempt. They’re staring.

“It’s you-I-“ Harry stands up, it seems like he was going in for a hug but he thinks better of it almost immediately. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi,” I say lamely. I feel the shame of the last time we spoke. That YN feels like someone else. Someone people manipulated easily. Like him.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he laughs nervously and his eyes roam up and down my body. He runs his fingers through his hair and looks back. “I think there’s a massive group of women there staring at us? Have you rounded up a gang to kick my-“

“Ignore them,” I quickly take a seat beside where he was sitting. He takes one last glance at them and sits back down.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“No no,” my mind is occupied. I couldn’t kiss him. This was the worst person in the world to have picked, why was he here damnit?

Then I remember why this area was familiar to me. His address was only a street or so over, this is close to where I’d picked him up that day.

“Actually, I’ll do a a vodka soda.”

He orders for me while I try to sort out my thoughts.

“So are you in a cult? Am I some sort of blood sacrifice?” Harry throws another glance over his shoulder.

I finally look at him. He looked good, of course he did. He’d decided to do something about those razor blades—he’d thrown them out; he sports a mustache and stubble. His hair is styled, nicer than it was when I met him. His eyes are murky waters and I don’t look at them too long. I spot the gym bag by his feet, so that’s why his shirt fit so well…

Omg.

“Actually,” I consider what he’d just said. “You’re not too far off.”

“Wait really?” His eyes bug out. “You’re joking.”

“Well the cult is actually a bridal party,” I say. “And the blood sacrifice is a number on our scavenger hunt.”

“Oh,” it dawns on him. “I’m fresh blood. You already have my number, wait is that why you came up to me?”

“No I actually didn’t even know it was you,” I say honestly. “They picked you out from the crowd.”

“Really?” Harry looks back, now intrigued that this group of women found him fit enough to pick out.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” I roll my eyes. My drink had landed in front of me so I take a sip.

“Well? You have my number right?” When I just nod he laughs. “Wait. You need something more.”

“Well obviously I’m going to lose this scavenger hunt,” I scowl. “Don’t worry.”

He chuckles and looks to the front, meanwhile I try not to squirm. Being around him wasn’t the best feeling, especially on my way to drunk. I felt hot with embarrassment and yet the intrigue of who he really was still stayed with me. And it stays because even now, despite not trusting him or liking him very much I felt like I had room to just be myself. He was an easy presence despite his baggage. Or maybe because of it.

It seems we were good at silences because we drink without saying a word. It’s like our brains are catching up to our sudden run-in.

“How have you been?” Harry asks quietly.

Fine, I’m going to say automatically. But I answer truthfully. “Alright. Life’s been better but also nobody’s tricked me into going to a cheating ex’s wedding so life’s been a lot worse!”

He laughs awkwardly and clinks his bottle against my glass. “Yeah. I deserve that.”

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Better. A lot better.”

“Good to hear,” I say genuinely. Despite my grievances it was nice to hear he was past whatever he’d been in when we first met.

“I think about you often,” he says while still looking forward. Oh god this felt like being in a car with him. I turn my body towards him and tap my knee against his. He looks at me, like we’re having an actual conversation. “I do. About what I did to you…I’m sorry.”

“Yeah you’ve said.”

“Yeah,” he grimaces. I wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily. Being manipulated and lied to like that still stung. It was rock bottom for me in a way. “I was a dick. I’m deeply sorry and I’ve thought about how to make it up to you but I thought I should just stop texting you ever. Trust me that was rock bottom for me and you didn’t deserve to be dragged down with me.”

I try not to look surprised when he says it was his rock bottom, like I was thinking seconds earlier.

“You got one thing right,” I tap at his phone. I wasn’t going to tell him I forgave him, or that I understood even though I did. I didn’t like him very much, I didn’t trust him, but I knew he was sorry when he said it.

I remember the wedding—there was something I wanted to apologize for, “Well now that we’re unloading apologies, I am actually sorry for uhm, slapping you that night? That’s not me. And I don’t know where it came from! I feel bad about that.”

His laugh is quiet, to himself. “You shouldn’t be apologizing for anything. Anything at all YN.”

God, the way he says my name is addictive. He said it like everyone else, but in his voice…

“I know. But that crossed a line…”

“Nah don’t worry. Plus I don’t mind when a woman slaps me around a little,” his face splits into a grin when I give him the reaction he was looking for.

“Harry,” I scold. “You’re teaching children with that mouth?”

“That’s why I’m quitting.”

“You’re quitting!?”

“Yep. Phase 3 of my plan, to live the life I want. I’m finishing the school year and looking for a job in my field over the summer.”

“Wow,” I was impressed. “Wow Harry. Good luck with that.”

“Yeah I’ll need it thanks.” The way he looks at me makes me nervous. I think I’ve been single a bit too long. And right on cue he asks: “So YN how about you? Are you still doing your single thing?”

“I feel like you’re still talking about it like you don’t believe in it,” I tell myself to calm down every time he says my name.

“No I-“ he plays with his bottle. “I believe you. I’ve tried it, it’s been good for me. But I started dating again this year and I found I really love that too.”

“Yeah?” I ask him more about it. He tells me he’s dating knowing what he wants now. What kind of woman he’s looking for.

I felt like focusing on myself has helped me with that too. The only issue is I was finding it hard to open myself up to men again.

“I haven’t been dating much,” at all. “But I’m open to it now.”

“Show anyone your mean side lately?” He jokes but in there is a serious question.

“That’s only reserved for you,” I say, then realize how flirty it sounds and clamp down on my tongue. Maybe I should stop drinking. I didn’t even know Harry very well. But when I peek a glance he looks flushed.

I liked this version of Harry better. I wonder if he was like this before, before he had his heart broken, or even before he started dating Vanessa. But I don’t tell him that, I didn’t want him to think we were friends or anything.

We fall into silence again, not an uncomfortable one though. I look at him, he looked the same but different. Like a change had taken place underneath the surface. I imagine he’s studying me the same way. He smiles and I return it.

A body pushing into the side of me interrupts us. Dots is there with Taz and they wave the bartender down for a drink even though they could’ve ordered from the table. I roll my eyes and turn to them.

“Hi,” I look between them. Dots looks mischievous as usual and Taz seems curious.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us YN?” Dots asks.

“Oh, this is Harry,” I eye Taz when I say it. She’s a bit slow but when I introduce them to Harry it dawns on her. Her face darkens as she pinpoints who he is.

“Harry is it?” Taz asks. “I’ve never met a Harry I liked.”

Dots looks over at her like she’s grown another head, clued out and assuming I was still here to kiss him.

“Oh well…” Harry looks just as confused at her sudden intensity. “I hope I can change your mind about that?”

“Too late for that,” she nearly spits out. I watch his eyes widen and then go to me. I’m biting back a smile.

“Taz, right you’re Taz.” He sounds like he remembers her.

“And I’m Dots,” Dots repeats. Poor girl was clueless. “We’re just doing a bachelorette thing and YN seemed to think you were cute enough to ditch us right?”

“Really?” Harry takes pleasure in playing along.

“Well no I—ow!” Dots interrupts me by smashing her elbow into me. I sigh. “Right. Yeah. You were irresistible, I had to ditch my friends for a man like you.”

“Sarcasm,” Harry says just low enough for me to hear. He’s smiling.

“YN you should come back,” Taz tries to grab my arm but Dots is like a pro as she cuts that off.

“No we’re just doing the same thing back there. Talking and drinking. You two enjoy. You should give him your number here.” She drops a sharpie in my hand. “Let’s go Taz.”

I try to warn Taz with my expression, please don’t tell anyone I know him. None of these girls knew I went to Ethan’s wedding, it was an embarrassing story on my timeline I didn’t need to share. I didn’t want them to know the story of how I knew Harry.

“Your friends are scary.”

“I guess,” I turn back to him. My drink was nearly empty and I did think it was time to go back. “I should go back to them.”

“Oh,” he looks disappointed.

“What?”

“I thought we were having a nice time.”

“Yeah well we were catching up. And now my drink’s finished and I’m-“

“I can buy you another?”

“I think I’ve had enough. This is our third place on our night crawl so…”

“Fair.” Harry looks at me like he has something to say. I stand there and wait but in the end he just sighs and sits back down.

“Oh yeah I’m going to write my number,” I grab his arm and pull his sleeve up. Holy muscles. “on your arm. If that’s alright?”

“Sure,” he smiles and his dimples make an appearance. It’s boyish, like we’re teenagers exchanging numbers.

I write it down even though he had it, cap the marker, and look up. We’re so close; his eyes flit to my mouth and away so quickly I almost miss it.

“I’ll get this tattooed,” Harry jokes.

“I’ll change my number if you do,” I warn him. He just shrugs like he didn’t believe me and I shake my head, turning back to my friends.

I get back to a group of disappointed women. They give me a hard time and tell me how upset they are that I don’t care about Taz winning. They try to tell me how good we looked together, how I looked with him.

“We’re not leaving until you kiss him,” Felicity says.

“Leave her alone! He smelled like bad news,” Taz says. She was well past drunk now so no one listens to her.

“Ethan was bad news,” Fels states. “This guy is just a random man you can kiss and invite as a plus one. Have some fun with him. Get back into the pool where all the fish are. C’mon YN we know your dating life is shite!”

“Remind me to never get drunk with you lot,” I stare at them. They were scary. “I gave him my number, at least Taz can cross that out!”

“Wait! Harry!” Everyone begins to shout his name as they spot him leaving behind me.

I catch him turning with a wary expression. He points to himself. The girls shout “Yes!” and earn some dirty looks from the other patrons.

He walks up to our table like a sacrifice to an ancient ritual. “You ladies need something?”

“Yes,” a few voices say but Felicity is the loudest. She points to Taz who has her head down on the table. I should check on her.

“See this beautiful creature here? She’s getting married! Married! And we have a scavenger hunt. And she can almost win! But she needs to kiss someone at the bar. But she’s getting married! And you look decent enough to help this bride-to-be! So YN her wonderful friend is helping out. And she chickened out up there. So she wants to kiss you. Does she have your permission?”

“Does she?” He turns to me. God I was helpless with the pressure around me. My eyes lock onto Harry and I hope he can read the help etched into them.

“This is silly,” I tell him. “We don’t need to do this. I don’t think Taz even cares.”

“I don’t!” I guess she was conscious because she lifts her head to answer me. But everyone crowds her out, her cousin actually guides her head back down.

“You owe her a kiss,” Dots says proudly.

“I owe her a lot actually,” Harry says to me. My heart races as we look at each other.

I would be lying if I said the idea of kissing him doesn’t intrigue me. He was attractive! And his facial hair made him more so. But I didn’t want to complicate anything.

What’s there to complicate? I ask myself. It’s not like he’s in your life. Plus maybe this will be the push to start dating again. Kisses are nice right?

“Okay whatever,” I take a step towards him. “It’s not like this means anything. It’s just a kiss.”

A cheer goes up with the group.

Harry drops his bag to the floor and takes the other step to me. “It doesn’t mean anything?”

“No,” I say more to myself. “It’s just a kiss with a guy.”

“Just a kiss with a guy,” Harry repeats. “If you say so.”

His hand reaches up to my neck and he pulls me gently to him, with his height I crane my face up and his warm lips come down on mine exactly how I imagined it would feel. That’s when I realize I had imagined how he would feel. But it’s too late by then.

It feels like hearing music live for the first time, I can suddenly hear every atom of the song. I can feel it, taste it, even smell the soundwaves pounding through the room. That’s what the kiss feels like. Ultrasonic and consuming as hell.

He’s gentle but I can tell he’s holding back with the way his hand grips the back of my head tight. And that sends my senses into overdrive. Even though his moustache is a bit tickly, he was a really good kisser.

When we part, I laugh because I’m nervous but also he has lipstick on his face.

“That was hot,” someone in the group says but we can’t take our eyes off of each other. I’m trying to remember how to breathe and it seems like Harry is doing the same.

“You have-“ I laugh nervously again and reach up to wipe the lipstick from the side of his mouth. This close his pupils are blown out and it only confirms to me that he was holding back. Because he looks like a man who can barely contain himself.

“Uhm,” he finally breaks his gaze to look at all the women staring. “I hope that was satisfactory enough.”

“That was movie worthy,” everyone begins shouting scores out. Some of then fan themselves with the menu. Harry clears his throat, picks up his bag, does an awkward half-bow, and stiffly nods to me.

“G’night YN.”

“Yeah…thanks.” I didn’t know what to say after having the most intense kiss of my life. To Harry. The ex-texter.

“I need some water after that,” Felicity climbs over me out of the booth and I slide in by Taz.

“I’m sorry,” she wraps her arms around my shoulder. “We have really shitty friends.”

“You have amazing friends,” Dots says. “We just broke YN’s dry spell. Did you see that? That was chemistry YN. That was wow. I hope you got his number.”

“I have it,” I sigh.

I decide I was going to drink more. I didn’t want to remember this night anymore.

***

It’s the Friday after and I’m at work, it’s a slow day so I’m scrolling through my phone when a notification pops up.

It was Harry.

Hi. I text back. I’d been thinking about him a lot this week, about the kiss, and about dating again. I wouldn’t admit it to my friends but it was a reminder that chemistry existed somewhere out there.

I don’t want our whole relationship to be wedding crashing so I want to run something past you.

???

Your friend Felicity invited me to Taz’s wedding. Tomorrow. She said you knew but you haven’t texted me all week so I think she’s setting you up?

I couldn’t believe it. I text Felicity and she responds immediately with a kissy emoji and a tongue sticking out.

I’m sorry I didn’t know, Fels just confirmed. You don’t need to come she’s just on this mission to get me a date.

She said you have a flaky boyfriend?

Oh my god the lie had spread. So embarassing, I was going to strangle Fels.

Really I’m alright. Sorry about that.

I would like to see you again. Even if it’s at a wedding. But I’ll only go if you invite me.

Wow. I read the message another time then put my phone away. What was I supposed to do?

I take my phone into the toilets and call Taz. She picks up, it sounds like she’s in a car.

“Hi you free?”

“Yeah I’m just getting back from the salon, what’s going on?”

I tell her. I tell her it all, the conversation Harry and I had and how I was feeling and what Felicity did.

“That one does not know how to keep her nose out of people’s businesses.”

“I know,” I groan. “I could not invite him and get a million questions from everyone who knows Fels invited him. And I keep him out of my life. Which is fine because I barely know him (even though that kiss felt like I’ve known him for all of eternity). But if I invite him, I’m telling him I’m okay with what he did to me. That we’re okay.”

“YN listen,” she sighs. She says something to someone on her end and I hear a car door close. “Look—sorry just getting in. You’re not that person anymore. I don’t trust him more than you do but just tell him that. So he knows you’re only taking him to get everyone to shut up. Like…use him as a date like he used you.”

“Hm,” that was a good point. “Yeah. That could actually work?”

“Really? I thought I was just saying shite,” Taz laughs. “Okay I really have to go my in-laws are here. Are you alright?”

“Yeah yeah you focus on your stuff. I’ll be by this evening.”

“Love you, bye!”

I call Harry immediately after. He doesn’t pick up so I go back to my desk and consider what to text him when he calls back.

“YN I was still in class sorry.”

“Oh god sorry I forgot!” I look at the time. “Sorry I just assumed you were free.”

“No it’s alright,” he answers. “Are you calling about tomorrow?”

“Yeah…” my mouth is suddenly parched. I get up and walk away from where people could hear me. “So, the thing is my friends are giving me a hard time because I don’t have a date and all that. So sort of the way you used me as a date at that wedding, I could use you at this one. Like if would be doing me a favour?” I cringe as the words come out.

“Oh. Sure…yeah if you want.” He sounds…offended?

“Like if we’re being honest we’ve not really spoken since that night. And I have no reason to trust you and whatever. So this is just…”

“Returning the favour.” He puts it simply.

“Yeah? Yeah! Right. Exactly.” Why was this coming out so horribly.

“I get it,” he says. “I’m glad we talked. I’d be happy to be your plus one tomorrow.”

“Perfect,” I find myself smiling.

***

Taz’s wedding is a dream. An absolute dream. I tell her a million times after the ceremony and I gush to her how much I love her and am proud of her during speeches. Her bridesmaids give their toast, and every person who was at the bachelorette makes sure to tease me about bringing Harry who had been nothing but supportive tonight. He stuck to himself when I was doing maid-of-honour duties, and squeezed my hand encouragingly before my speech because public speaking was not my favourite thing. I had to admit it was nice to have someone here just for me. It had been a while.

When Taz told me she got engaged a couple years ago I always thought it would be Ethan by my side. It was weird that Harry was here, because of Ethan, but also the way he came to be here.

“Hi!!” I shout at Harry after doing shots with the bridesmaids. I was officially tipsy but most of the major wedding traditions were over. We were waiting for the cake cutting and bouquet toss and the first dance. And then it was all fun.

“Hi,” he holds out an arm to guide me to my seat.

“I hate these heels,” I unstrap my feet and groan when I put my feet on the bare floor. “That feels sooo good.”

“Hi!” A chirpy voice says to my right. I peek an eye open and groan again, Felicity has joined the table.

“Hi, Felicity right?” Harry says.

“Fels,” she nudges me. “You glad he came?”

“Whatever,” I shrug.

“She’s happy you came,” Fels tries to make up for my rudeness. “She’s not usually this rude.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Harry says. I cut him a look.

“Oh no she’s very nice. She’s just a bit grumpy probably all the maid of honour duties,” she tries to convince a Harry that’s just sharing an inside joke with me. It does something to me.

“It’s okay,” I put a hand on Fels’. “He’s teasing. I’m allowed to be rude to him.”

Harry laughs and Felicity realizes too late she was sitting in on two people that didn’t need her help to get along.

“Well I’m going to find my date, play nice!”

“Nice suit,” I tug at Harry’s lapels once she’s gone. It was nicer than what he wore the last time we met.

“I borrowed it from a friend. I only have one suit and…well you’ve seen it.”

“Teachers don’t wear suits to work?” I tease.

“Thank god no.” His eyes roam over my bridesmaid dress, an off the shoulder sage dress that honestly reminded me of a folky tinkerbell. “You look beautiful.”

“Flattery won’t get you extra points.” I say whilst flattered. The dress had also reminded me of the colour of his eyes when he greeted me today. Now his eyes stay on me all evening.

The announcement for cake cutting goes off so I walk with Harry to watch. Taz looked beautiful in her embroidered dress and she glows even while narrowly missing cake all over her face. Everyone toasts and she readies for a bouquet toss.

“You’re standing here,” Taz’s cousin centres me. “Because there’s no way I’m catching that.”

“I don’t even have a boyfriend,” I say but the other girls crowd me so I stay put. The bouquet is tossed high and I don’t make much of an effort but it glances off the hand in front of me and lands on me. I squish it against me to keep it from falling.

“YN!” My friends tease me and I hold it up in mock excitement. Taz laughs from up front and I go up to hug her, I’m handed another flute of champagne and I toss it back with my best friend.

“YN’s next,” one of the bridesmaid says. “Cheers!”

I get another drink and down it with the girls. I can’t stop laughing about it. I try to look out for Harry to see how he feels about the bouquet but he must be in a darker corner. I don’t spot him.

I refuse the next drink pushed my way and move to my seat as the couple gets ready for their first dance. Harry’s not there but he sits down shortly after I do.

“Look!” I show him the bouquet. “I caught it!”

“I saw,” he smells the flowers. “I got a picture of you.”

“Let me see!” I hold my hand out and wait for him to find it.

“Oh my god,” I laugh as I zoom into my face as the flowers hit me. “Look at my face! And look at her! This is a great pic…” the words die on my lips. I’d accidentally swiped to the camera roll zooming out and I see dozens of photos of me.

“Oh,” Harry takes the phone from me. “Is that creepy? Sorry I was taking photos to send you since you’re busy having fun I-“

I feel tears threaten my makeup and I clench my mouth closed. Despite all the drinks I suddenly feel incredibly sobered.

I take his phone back and swipe through, he recorded my speech and took a million photos of me with Taz. My chin trembles.

“Hey I’m sorry,” Harry takes the phone back. “I didn’t mean to upset you I’ll delete-“

“No!” I stop him. “Don’t. I want all of them.”

“Why are you…” his confusion is all over his face. “Are you upset?”

“No,” I blink away any tears. “Sorry. No. I’m okay! I’m alright.”

It was stupid but Ethan never took photos of me. Even on important days like birthdays, Christmas, holidays. I had a million candid photos of him but I had to beg and remind him for photos of me. Harry took so many without even asking, just because he knew I would want to look back on the memories I was making. It was such a basic thing to do but it felt like the world to me in this moment.

“Thank you.” I say when he doesn’t make a move. “Honestly thank you. Sorry, ignore what my face is saying! But make sure you send every single one okay?”

“Yeah I will,” he promises. He swipes a fallen tear with a gentle smile. I draw back from his touch and use a napkin to dab at my eyes instead.

“YN you know I’m really sorry,” he says just as the first song comes on.

“No I’m fine!” I shift my chair to face the dancefloor. I position it slightly ahead of Harry so he leans forward to speak to me.

“I mean about the other wedding we went to.”

“Yeah I-“ he looks serious so I stop what I was saying. I turn slightly so I can look at him. “Can we talk about it later?”

“Yeah,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Okay,” I smile and turn back to admire the couple but I can sense the emotional turmoil beside me. I push my chair back enough to be side by side with Harry. I lean my head on his shoulder as I watch the married couple dance the first dances of many. When Harry puts his arm around me, his thumb rubs my shoulder. A finger pokes my arm and Dots face pops in beside me to waggle her eyebrows. Was everyone watching me with Harry tonight?!

When the DJ invites everyone else onto the dancefloor I pull Harry up.

“So what was it you were saying?” I ask as we wrap arms around each other.

“I like you a lot YN. A lot. Even when we first met, I started liking you right when you returned my bullshit with sarcasm. You rolled with all my jokes. It was a breath of fresh air.”

I don’t say anything; he had more to say.

“I wish I didn’t do what I did. I sabotaged everything because I was hung up over the wrong girl. And now I’m just a guy to you. A guy you kissed once, I’m just a favour returned.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” I ask.

“Just in case you felt anything, if you thought we could…”

“Harry you lied to me. Embarrassed me. You weren’t a very nice person.”

“I know-“

“I do like this Harry better.”

“Uhm,” he thinks. “Thanks. It’s old Harry, before my life went to hell. Old Harry mixed with some lessons learned. I’m telling you I was at rock bottom when I did what I did.”

“I believe you.” I did.

He sighs in relief. “Thank you.”

We dance quietly for a bit. Until I speak, “I’m trying not to date losers.”

He flexes his jaw, fixating on a spot behind my shoulder.

“I thought you were one,” I tell him honestly. “But I’m not so sure now. But this feels like asking a lot Harry I…”

“You don’t need to respond now,” he urges. “Just think about it.”

“I can’t,” I was terrified of agreeing to a relationship that would hurt me all over again. “I do like you Harry but I don’t know if I can agree to what you want…”

The truth was that Harry was showing me that the glimpses I’d gotten of him throughout the last week were more telling, more consistent than the guy he was when we first met. I was deathly afraid of getting hurt again, and I’m not sure I was willing to take the risk. If that kiss was any indication, I know Harry was telling the truth on his end but I didn’t want a relationship with a guy who started it off by lying.

“I’m-excuse me,” Harry stops mid-dance and walks away. I feel awful but I let him go, watch him disappear to the lobby, and I sit back in my seat. Dots tries to wave me by but I ignore her. The lump in my throat sits heavily and I feel like shit. Especially when a few dances later Harry returns and announces he was going home early. His face is splotchy and it feels awful.

“Are you sure?” I ask him.

“Yeah,” he holds my arm. “Thank you for tonight, and again I’m really sorry about everything.”

I just pull him into a hug, with no words equivalent to what I should say. He squeezes once and lets go.

“Tell Taz thank you for the invite. I’ll see you around.”

“Okay…bye Harry.”

That’s the last I see of him. I head right to the drinks and drink enough to feel okay. I dance with my friends and get as many pictures as my phone can handle in.

At the end of the night I go home to an empty flat and drunkenly download all the dating apps I swore off of. Swiping through like a catalogue, by the time I wake up the next morning I’m well on my way back to the dating scene.

***

I stare at the man in front of me. His profile on the app was exactly the kind of guy I was looking for. And he’d actually made me laugh a few times tonight which was a bonus. But something feels like it’s missing—they all have this last month as I became a serial dater. I was really putting myself out there but nobody made it past date two.

“So how about heading out?” He asks after the bill.

“Yeah! Sure,” I grab my purse and we walk out. He grabs my hand as we step out.

“Want to share a ride?”

“Are we going to the same place?” I ask.

“If you want,” he pulls my hand and places it on his shoulder. He was cute, I could kiss him.

And I do, but it’s just a kiss. Just two mouths kissing. I don’t feel the spark, or the passion.

“Actually,” I pull away. “I forgot I have an early morning meeting so I think I should behave and head home by myself.”

“Oh,” he looks disappointed. “Well maybe we can do something on Friday?”

“Yeah I’ll text you?”

He pecks my lips, “Sounds good.”

I get a car and as I drive away from the date my hands stray to my lips. I remember another kiss, and then I slam the door shut on it. You can’t keep comparing all your kisses to that one!

Except the thing about telling my mind not to think about something, I do. I think about Harry, and question myself like I have been ever since the wedding if I made the wrong choice. Did I push him away too quickly, out of fear? Am I protecting myself or just scared?

I open the text exchange between us like I do weekly and hover my fingers over the keyboard. What do I say? What could I say?

I scroll to the top of the conversation and find his address and plug it into my phone. I was 18 minutes away.

“Excuse me could I change the drop off?” I ask the taxi driver. “I had a change of plans.”

He asks me where and he knew the area enough to take the left and head in that direction.

That was very impulsive. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that?

Adrenaline courses through my body as I pray that he still lived in the same place. What was I going to say?

My leg bounces up and down as I stare out the window, biting down on my lip. This was stupid, I made him bloody cry the last time I saw him. Then again I cried the time before that. Were we equal? Was I twisted enough to think this could all work?

I nearly jump out of the taxi after paying and walk to the front door. Of course, you needed a key card.

With shaking fingers I call Harry.

“Hello?”

I freeze. He was out, the sounds of people and music give that away.

“YN? Is that you?”

I was so stupid! Why did I do this?

“YN?” Now Harry sounds worried. I take a deep breath.

“Sorry! Wrong number. I meant to call som-“

“YN are you alright? Is everything okay?”

The background noise disappears. He must have stepped out.

“Yes sorry to worry you!” I squeak. “Everything’s fine.”

“Why did you call?” He asks as I ask “What are you doing right now?”

We laugh. Harry tells me, “You first.”

“It was an accident…”

“Oh well…a good accident.” I can hear his smile through the phone. “I was just grading final tests at my local pub.”

His local pub…that meant he was close by. I think. My heart picks up speed. “Oh! Is that something you do often?”

“Yeah some of these papers remind me why I’m quitting this job. So I drink to get through them.”

“Giving up on the youth of tomorrow?” I ask. I spot a bench a little ways away and head to it, next to a bike rack.

“Yes!” Harry laughs. “They’ve given up on me too. They’s all assholes nobody listens to me.”

“I would’ve liked to have you as a teacher,” I go for flirting. “None of my grade school teachers were good looking. I could’ve used a distraction.”

“So you’re admitting that I’m good looking,” Harry says just as I spot him heading to his door.

“Yeah in your grey t-shirt, I think so.”

I watch as he whips his head around and scans the area until he spots me.

“I lied,” I get up and wave at him. “I came by to see you but I was embarrassed when you weren’t home.”

“Why-“ his voice sticks. “Why did you come to see me?”

“Well,” by now we’re close enough that I could shout to him but I still use the phone. “I thought about what I said that night and I think I was too harsh.”

“And?” Harry stares at me as I walk up to him.

“And I want to believe that a second impression can be just as important as a first.”

He’s alight in a second, hope injected into his features. I stop a few feet away from him.

“I’ll take that. I’ll take it.”

“Okay,” I move in closer, lowering my phone. My eyes are on his lips and I don’t care that how badly I want to kiss him is plain as day. Because in the moment he reaches for me I know he wants this just as bad.

My mind is wiped clean when he kisses me—I kind of hate myself of a month ago for denying me of this all this time.

It’s indecent, the way we kiss out there. When my mind returns to my body I push him away, flushed and nervous.

“Should we take this up to your place?”

“Why? Are you getting shy?” He teases.

“Your neighbours are getting free entertainment,” I’m out of breath as I talk and this seems to make Harry smile even harder. He presses a hard kiss to me and then leads me by the hand up to his flat. We’re on each other with every pause we take, it’s gross and unlike me but I’m just too happy to stop. The spark, the passion, everything I’d been looking for is here.

“Can I uh,” Harry closes the door behind us as I continue kissing him, my lips finding any part of him. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Sure,” I watch him unbutton my cardigan. “I’ll take a tall glass of whatever you’re serving.”

He smirks and pulls me back in. I jump when he tells me to and he carries me to wherever his bedroom is. I’m barely in the right state of mind to notice anything as I get lost in us. In the way his hands hold me, and the way his moustache feels on my skin. Maybe it’s been a while or maybe it was him but having this after so long makes it taste sweeter than it ever had.

***

“Happy six months,” Harry wraps his arms around me from behind. I’m making us coffee, we were up especially early because we were making the trip to see Harry’s family for the holidays. Usually this is when I went to Taz’s but this year she’d urged me to spend the time with my boyfriend’s family.

She’d been suspicious when I first told her about Harry. But when she saw how happy I was she’d given it her blessings (and I’m pretty sure threatened Harry with some dismemberment). I hadn’t had a big Christmas in a while, and Harry said he had more family coming into town. I was nervous to meet so many new people, people that meant a lot to Harry. But he assured me everyone would love me.

“Happy six month,” I reach up to peck his lips and settle against him. He hums as he tightens his arms around me. I couldn’t believe this was my life now, I was happier than I ever dared to think I could be. I never knew a relationship could be so complementing, so grounding.

Despite our rocky start, that Harry and I had discussed in depth when we first started dating, we were mostly smooth sailing. The way I saw it we met as two damaged people. Somehow we parted from there and ran like parallel lines until we were straightened out enough to meet again. And now we ran together as a pair of lines.

“I’m so lucky,” Harry presses a kiss to my temple, thinking the same thing I had been. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world YN. You make me the luckiest guy in the world.”

“Then that would make me Mrs. Luckiest-Guy-in-the-World,” I joke as I turn in his embrace.

“I’d like that,” he strokes my cheek. “I’m excited to introduce you to everyone tonight.”

“That makes one of us.”

“YN I promise there’s nothing to be nervous about. They already love you because they know you’re the reason I’ve been so…me.”

I swallow the ball of emotion in my chest. We were both just us around each other. No fuss, no pretending. Just us. It wasn’t something I could share with my own family, they barely knew what I was really like. Harry had met my parents separately when they were in town a couple months ago. They’d liked him, but they also liked Ethan so it wasn’t saying much.

“I trust you,” I hold his face in my hands. “Fine.”

“Good,” his hand rubs my back. He pulls me into his chest, crushing me against him until the coffee goes off.

“Thanks love,” Harry says as I hand him a mug.

We chat about nothing as we take our coffees to the couch where we sit snuggled. I feel safe here, it’s a good feeling, a feeling that felt so overwhelmingly new sometimes that it made me want to cry. Which always made Harry laugh.

“I can’t wait to spend this new year together,” I tell him.

“Me too,” his lips press softly onto my temple. “I’m finally excited about the future. I’m doing a job I like and dating a woman I love.”

“I’m happy for us.” I smile up at him.

We sit snuggled on the couch as we sip our morning coffee. I savour everything about this moment.

With Harry life was stable, it was good. I knew I would never pick up my phone and find a text so life-shattering like the ex-text had done to me; I know it was impossible to predict the future but somehow I could tell you that I had a good feeling about it.

———————————

TAGLIST: @tiaamberxx @cherryshouse

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles angst #harry stylesxreader #series #i didn’t really know where this one was going lol #but I am also feeling lazy to edit so dont mind #sorry in advance if this isn’t the ending you wanted lol #road trip

220 notes · View notes