#i just have to figure out how to be comfortable in solitude

[headachecat]

Fellow Rookanis here, and Chaosfay on AO3. Here's a fee writing prompts to play with or combine:

"I've never kissed someone with a beard before."

"How did you keep the beard so neat in the Ossuary? Did you bathe and shave before taking on the Ventori?"

The first time Lucanis reaches out and comforts Rook.

The first time Lucanis reaches out and comforts Rook.

As a principle, Rook did not get upset.  It was one of those things Harding shared with Lucanis when he first joined the team. It was just the five of them at the time, and the Scout felt like it was her duty to fill him in. Bellara’s mind was in the clouds, but, by the Maker, was she brilliant in her expertise. Neve was always on the case, chasing another lead with a snarky comment locked and loaded. And Rook? There was not a moment a smile went absent from her lips. Not a second of doubt they couldn’t do it. There was simply nothing that could make her waver, make her break. And definitely nothing that could make her cry.

They had just saved Treviso from Ghilan’nain’s dragon, and Lucanis could have sworn he had never felt such a profound sense of gratefulness, a warmth that filled his heart and refused to fade for the first time in a very long time. That morning, he lingered in the pantry, scribbling away notes of thanks. The thoughts spilled from his mind and onto the parchment, words cascading like an untamed river, each stroke of his pen a desperate attempt to capture what words could barely hold. The scratching of the pen sent a delicate vibration up his fingers, as he crossed out yet another sentence, unsatisfied. The ink bled through the paper, leaving faint shadows on the pages beneath, echoes of thoughts too vast to remain contained. It seeped onto his skin, black stains blooming across his fingertips, as if to tattoo his feelings for the world to see. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Rook’s face –not her smile, bright and reassuring as always, but her eyes. They held everything: a will that could not be bent, compassion that refused to falter, care that brought his mind to her more and more recently nowadays.

’We will go to Treviso. We will defend it, whatever it takes. I promise.’

He felt a deep, aching pain in his chest with every beat of his heart. He owed her so much – more than he could ever hope to repay in a lifetime. His family, his home, the very fabric of his existence, all tethered to a singular choice. Words danced on the edge of his mind, but none ever felt worthy, none ever seemed to measure up.

How could he possibly tell her that she had saved his life? Not just the moments he cherished, the memories he had yet to create, but quite possibly his literal life as well. The enormity of it threatened to swallow him whole. How do you tell someone that they are the reason your world still turns? No words felt right. No words ever could.

It was just Lucanis in the Lighthouse, its ancient walls accompanying his quiet solitude as he awaited everyone’s return. That is, if you ignored the persisting presence of the demon lodged in his head. To keep his hands and mind from wandering too far into uneasy thoughts, he busied himself in the kitchen, the simple rhythms of preparation soothing him. When the time for the meeting finally drew near, and Rook was due to arrive back from Minrathous, Lucanis prepared something small for her. A cup of tea, her favourite, and a plate of Nevarran plums. Travel was exhausting, after all. She would be hungry, surely.

He placed them on the coffee table in her room, before retreating to the library’s upper level to await the others. Barely a minute went by when the sounds of boots on stone echoed up the tower’s cold, stone walls. The team had arrived, and Lucanis moved to meet them at the centre. But as their figures emerged into view, his heart sank, the stillness in the air pressing down on him. The clinking of metal weapons accompanied his companions’ slow steps, the silence so heavy it seemed to absorb every sound.

When his gaze fell on Rook, the ache in his chest deepened. She stood by the seating area, her usual energy absent, her presence subdued in a way that felt foreign. Her staff slipped from her fingers, dropping against the chair with a hollow clink that echoed in the quiet. There was no trace of her laughter, no sign of the effortless confidence that usually radiated from her when she stood with her hands on her hips, her head held high, a spark of hope lighting her every movement.

Instead, she turned with heaviness, nodding briefly to Harding and Bellara as they passed her, their quiet words barely breaking the stillness. Davrin appeared next, emerging from the staircase leading to the Eluvian room, his form tense, his sword clutched tightly in his hand as though it grounded him. And then Rook’s eyes finally met Lucanis.

The Crow lifted his hand in a gentle greeting. Rook cleared her throat, her voice breaking through the thickness of the air. ‘Right. I suppose we should talk about it.’ She was being careful, navigating a fragile thread that could snap at any moment. 

By the entrance, Bellara stood with her hand resting against her lips, her composure strained and delicate. Lucanis wasn’t certain, but it seemed as though she was fighting back tears. Her shoulders trembled faintly, and Harding, standing close beside her, reached out to pet her arm in a quiet gesture of comfort. The Scout let out a sigh, heavy with shared grief, as if trying to soothe both Bellara and herself at once. ‘Neve is staying in Minrathous for now,’ Rook continued, her tone steadier for a moment, ’The Shadow Dragons… could not defend the city as well as I had hoped.’

Lucanis turned his attention back to Rook, studying her carefully. She placed her hands on her hips, a familiar pose that should have felt reassuring, but this time it didn’t. Her fingers curled around her armour just a little too tightly, the slight tremor in her hands betraying the tension she was trying to mask. It was as though she were forcing herself to embody the unshakable presence they all relied on, struggling to be who they needed her to be. Who they expected her to be.

For a fleeting second, Lucanis’s thoughts drifted back to Harding’s words, her voice ringing in his memory. Rook doesn’t break. But now, standing before her, he couldn’t shake the gnawing doubt creeping into his mind, the uneasy certainty that for the first time in a very long time, Rook had reached her limit.

‘Please, rest well. We will discuss next steps once everyone’s ready,’ Rook said, her voice soft, her smile tender but weary. She followed Bellara and Harding with her gaze as they made their way out of the room, the quiet shuffle of their departure accompanied by murmured words Lucanis couldn’t catch. Davrin lingered, giving Rook a short, shallow bow, a gesture of respect. As he passed her, he slowed, ‘In war, victory, Rook. Whatever it takes.’

Rook nodded in response, a flicker of acknowledgment passing between them, and the Warden turned, his footsteps echoing faintly as he trailed out of the library. The door creaked shut behind him, the sound sharp against the quiet. A draft followed in his wake, a whisper of cold air slipping into the room.

Rook closed her eyes as if bracing for something more – perhaps the whistle of the wind, the mournful howl that might signal an ending to this meeting. But no sound came. The Lighthouse stood resolute, unmoving, the last steady thing around them. Perhaps, in the face of so much loss and uncertainty, the Lighthouse was all they had.

‘Rook,’ Lucanis stepped forward quietly, all his carefully thought-out words evaporating the moment he opened his mouth. ‘I wish to say…’ Rook opened her eyes, studying him silently. Her smile lingered on her lips, but Lucanis could see now what he hadn’t before – it no longer reached her eyes. It was faint, her usual warmth dulled into something distant. It struck him like a brushstroke gone astray on a painting, a flaw only noticeable when you looked closely. Perfectly devastating.

‘I wish to thank you,’ Lucanis exhaled at last. The words felt small in the grandness of the space. ‘Thank you for saving my home. It is… perhaps the only piece of me I know anymore, after the Ossuary. And I am eternally grateful for that. I am at your service, whatever you wish of me.’

Rook’s smile widened slightly, a practiced kindness softening her expression as she stepped forward. She reached out, her fingers wrapping gently around his arm in a reassuring squeeze. ‘Of course.’ she said, her tone light, almost effortless. But Lucanis’s brow furrowed as he caught it – a faint tremble in her hand, a subtle shiver in her fingertips she tried to hide.

‘Perhaps a dinner?’ she added, her voice suggesting joke, joined by a soft laugh that seemed uncertain, rough around the edges. It was her usual lighthearted way, a balm she offered to ease tension, but it felt different now. There was something about her in that moment, something distant and foreign. The jest hung in the air, but it didn’t settle, like a fine layer of sand swept up by the sea breeze, abrasive and unsettling. Rook shifted, her eyes flickering for a moment. They both felt it. The air grew thick, charged with an electric hum. Lucanis felt it like a shiver running down his spine, a familiar sensation that tugged at his instincts, pulling at his focus. Spite emerged from the dimness, his translucent form barely visible in the faint glow of the crystal light. With a long, deliberate breath, Spite let out a soft hiss of disgust, his face contorting in a sneer. ‘Regret,’ he spat, the word hanging in the air like a foul stench. He threw himself into the nearby chair with an exaggerated motion, ‘Terrible smell.’ Lucanis felt the coldness spread in his chest, a creeping chill that began as a subtle tightness and quickly grew into something more suffocating. It trailed down through his waist, his legs, his feet, burning with an icy dread that wrapped itself around him like chains. Regret. Fear. Doubt. A prison of its own. It was a familiar weight, one that clawed its way through his thoughts, dredging up the dark memories he had fought so hard to bury. The sleepless nights in the Ossuary, when exhaustion blurred the edges of his mind and the wet rags he wrapped around himself did little to ease the cold. He had tried to shield his ears from the screams of the prisoners, but they haunted him, unrelenting. Why them and not you? Why do you deserve to live? The questions crashed through his mind like thunder, each one louder than the last. You should have seen it coming. You should have killed yourself before they took you, like a real Crow would.

Lucanis reached out instinctively, his hand settling gently on Rook’s wrist, meant to offer reassurance, but as soon as his fingers brushed against her skin, he felt the tension ripple through her arm. Her lips parted as though she meant to speak. But the words never came. Instead, her breath hitched, and she held it, looking down at her feet. 

’Forgive me,’ she breathed out shortly, And then, in one swift motion, she pulled away from him, stepping past him with a sudden urgency that left him standing, still and unsure. Her staff clattered to the floor with a sharp, jarring sound, the clang ringing in Lucanis’ ears like a discordant note. Rook didn’t look back at it.

For a split second, Lucanis stood frozen, his heart beating in the rhythm of the weapon swaying on the stone. And then, with a sudden clarity, a single thought tumbled through his mind. She did not deserve to go through it alone. He stepped aside, his movement a blur – faster, swifter, determined He blocked Rook’s path, arms wide as if to contain her. She gasped, her body crashing against his, and in that instant, his embrace closed around her, tight and sure. They swayed for a heartbeat, finding balance, and Lucanis felt her legs tremble beneath her, threatening to give way.

A cry tore through the vast expanse of the library, its sound so raw and piercing, it seemed to shake the very air – a wail so haunting it could have been mistaken for the roar of a beast. They fell to their knees, drawn together, clinging to each other in desperate need of support. Rook’s body quivered, tensing as the waves of torment crashed through her, relentless and suffocating. Lucanis felt her scream vibrate against his shoulder, her fingers digging into the back of his vest, sharp as claws, desperate and frantic. Her pain consumed him, a fire that threatened to burn away all else. For a moment, he feared her. No, that wasn’t quite right. He feared for her. 

His hand drifted gently to the back of Rook’s neck, her curls winding around his fingers, as if they sought to hold him back, to keep him away from her. He wouldn’t let them. The warmth of her skin radiated beneath his touch, a subtle heat that made his fingertips dance over the smoothness of it, feeling the soft rise of goosebumps in their path. He began to caress her, slow and tender, as though time itself had stilled around them. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against the side of her temple, grounding himself in the sensation of her presence. Guiding her breath. Reassuring her racing mind. He allowed her the space to cry her pain away, to take her time, to steady herself – there was nothing of greater urgency. They didn’t talk, for there was nothing to be said. Everything he wished to ask, to explore, to understand, it was all in her voice. In the shudder of her body, the pain of her emotion.

He couldn’t say how long it had been before Rook’s sobs began to soften, the raggedness of her breath gradually easing into quiet sniffles. Her hands had found their place around his waist, gripping him with vulnerability he hasn’t seen from her before, while her fingers traced the edge of his vest in a slow, absent rhythm, as if the motion itself were a grounding force, bringing her slowly back to herself. Caught in the moment, he found his own fingers weaving through the strands of her hair, his touch gentle, natural and tender. His index finger brushed the delicate curve of her ear, the softest contact, yet it made her ear twitch in response. The sensation surprised him, and he pulled his hand away just a bit too fast. He opened his eyes.

Rook lifted her head, her tear-streaked face flushed and red, her eyes still glistening. Lucanis could feel the warmth of her breath against his cheek, unsteady and shaky. Yet he refused to pull away. He would stay until she was ready, until she found her footing again. Until she decided it was enough. She reached up, her fingers trembling as they brushed against her ear, a quiet, broken chuckle escaping her lips. It was a sound that was more of a sigh than anything else, exhausted, vulnerable  humour. ‘It does that sometimes... like a cat’s ear.’ Her gaze wandered over his face, lingering on the way their bodies were entwined, the intimate closeness that neither had expected. ‘Forgive me. Again. I’m uncertain what happened–‘

‘Rook,' Lucanis interrupted her softly, his hand moving to cup the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. For a moment, he paused, lost in the simplicity of the gesture, marvelling at how effortless it felt to hold her so close, how completely natural it came to him, like with no-one ever before. It was as if the world had folded around them, and only in that stillness did his thoughts finally catch up to him. Yet even then, he refused to let them overtake him – not when Rook still needed him. She shifted slightly in his arms, and he drew his gaze up to meet hers. ‘You have made an impossible choice,’ he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil swirling within. ‘I meant what I said. Whatever you wish of me. Whenever you need... my help. I will be there.’ Her eyes shimmered with the soft light of the crystal hanging above them, the glow reflected in the deep haze of her pained eyes. ‘I cannot ask that of you,’ she chuckled weakly, as her usual demeanour fought to come back to light.

‘I insist. Anything.’

She hesitated for a moment, her gaze falling away, as though weighing her next request. When she finally spoke again, her voice was different. Her Trade Tongue’s accent dropped ever so slightly, and her Nevarran lilt curled around the edges of her words, as if it was only now she allowed him to see her truly for the first time. ‘Can you call me by my name? Tell me everything will be all right? I wish to believe it... if only for a moment.’ 

Her request felt like the softest blanket, wrapping around Lucanis’ shoulders and across his heart. And in that moment, all he could feel was the quiet ache of wanting to protect her, to fight for her, to care for her. To give himself away to her will. He closed his eyes again, swaying gently with her in his arms, as though the rhythm of his movements could bring the lost memory back to him. And then, like a flash of clarity through the haze, it came to him. A name, soft and foreign, whispered in the heat of battle as they fought their way toward freedom. It was a name that had lingered in his mind, unspoken until now. Pleasant to the ear, yet strong in its means. A strength that mirrored her own. It was fitting, somehow – perfect in its simplicity and its power. He tasted it on his tongue, letting the sound roll gently over his lips, savouring the moment. It was sweet and proper, a name that could become a part of him, if only for a lifetime. He breathed in, steadying himself before speaking it aloud, the words falling from his lips like a promise, like a tender reassurance.

‘Everything will be all right, Hissera.’

––– More of Lucanis taking care of Rook:

[bongsavior]

Wow i'm going the fuck Thru it boys

can i get an injection of Happy Something Or Other ? This isn't fun anymore

[misswynters]

Drunken

featuring. ekko x reader

happy turkey holidays 🦃

note. when reading this imagine the boom sound effect everything ekko says something unhinged. (lol)

Lights from flickering neon signs bathed the streets in hues of green and purple, casting eerie shadows along the broken walls and uneven pathways. Ekko sat perched on a ledge high above the chaos, his feet dangling lazily as if he didn’t care if he slipped and fell. He often came here to think, to escape. Tonight, though, his solitude was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps. It was yours.

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice softer than usual but edged with something he couldn’t place. You were wrapped in the jacket he’d given you, its fabric worn but warm against the chill of Zaun’s smog-filled night.

Ekko glanced over his shoulder, his face unreadable in the half-light. “What do you want?” His tone wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t welcoming either.

You frowned, hesitating for a moment before stepping closer. “I just… I wanted to see you. You’ve been distant lately.”

“Yeah? Maybe I had a reason.” He swung his legs, his sneakers catching the dim light as he stared out at the cityscape.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped, your patience fraying at the edges. “I’m just trying to figure out what’s wrong, Ekko. You’ve been shutting me out—”

“Maybe you’re the problem,” he interrupted sharply, turning to face you now. His eyes were hard, a rare thing for someone who usually carried so much warmth. “You don’t get it, do you? You’re always here, always around, like… like you think I owe you something.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. You stepped back, your breath hitching. “I’m clingy? That’s what you think of me?”

Ekko groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You confuse me, alright? You’re all over the place, acting like you care but then pulling back. I can’t—I don’t know what you want from me, and I don’t have the time to figure it out.”

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Instead, you shrugged off the jacket he’d given you and threw it at his back. “Fine. You don’t have to figure it out. Here’s your damn jacket.” Your voice cracked, betraying the pain you tried to hide, and you turned on your heel, storming off without another word.

Ekko called after you, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. His words had cut too deep, and you needed to get away.

The Last Drop was dimly lit, its familiar haze of smoke and alcohol making it feel both comforting and suffocating. You slumped onto a barstool, not caring about the stares you earned as you ordered the strongest drink they had. The bartender raised an eyebrow but obliged, sliding a glass toward you. The liquid burned as it went down, and that was exactly what you wanted.

By the third drink, the room felt like it was spinning, but you didn’t care. You leaned heavily on the counter, muttering to yourself about Ekko’s audacity. “Clingy? Really? I’m just supposed to—” Your drunken rant was cut short by a familiar voice.

“Y/N.” You turned, and there he was, standing near the doorway with your jacket in hand. He looked out of place here, his usual confidence tempered by something softer. Regret, maybe.

“What do you want?” you slurred, glaring at him as he approached.

Ekko didn’t answer right away. Instead, he draped the jacket over your shoulders, only for you to shrug it off. It fell to the floor, and you stared at it for a moment before looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes.

“You dropped this,” he said simply, picking it up again before sitting on the stool beside you.

“I didn’t drop it. I threw it at you. Big difference.” Your words were biting, but your voice wavered.

Ekko sighed, ordering a light drink and stirring the ice in the glass as he spoke. “I came to apologize, alright? I shouldn’t have said what I did back there.”

You scoffed, turning back to your drink. “Save it, Ekko. You said how you really felt. No need to sugarcoat it now.”

“You don’t get it,” he said, his tone growing more earnest. “I’ve been dealing with a lot—stress, responsibility, everything piling up. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. That was wrong.”

You didn’t respond, instead taking another sip of your drink. He waited, his patience steady even as you cut him off with sharp, drunken remarks every time he tried to explain himself. Still, he didn’t leave.

Finally, you turned to him, standing unsteadily and placing yourself between his legs. Your finger jabbed at his chest, your faces inches apart. “You think… you think you can just apologize and fix everything?” you asked, your voice slurred but your expression serious.

Ekko’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his hands instinctively resting on your arms to steady you. “I’m trying, I know I messed up.”

“You’re the one that’s confusing,” you muttered, your words barely coherent now. “One minute you’re pushing me away, the next you’re… you’re here, looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asked, his voice low.

“Like you care,” you whispered, your hand coming up to trace the edge of his jaw. Your finger brushed his scarf, twisting it absently as you spoke. “Do you care, Ekko?”

He caught your wrist gently before your fingers could brush his lips. “Stop,” he said softly, his tone a mix of firmness and concern. “You’re drunk.”

You blinked up at him, your eyes glassy. “So? I still mean it.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead standing and slipping an arm around your waist to keep you upright. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

You stumbled against him, your legs uncooperative. “You know…” you slurred, leaning heavily into his chest, “your arms are really nice. Strong. Muscular. You should carry me.”

Ekko raised an eyebrow, but before he could protest, you jumped into his arms with surprising enthusiasm. He caught you effortlessly, sighing as he adjusted his grip. “The drunken firefly,” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Drunk but still lovable,” you corrected, resting your head against his shoulder as he carried you out of the bar. The night air hit your face, cool and refreshing after the stifling atmosphere inside.

Ekko’s steps were steady as he walked, his grip on you firm but gentle. “We’ll talk when you’re sober,” he said, his voice low and calm.

“Fine,” you mumbled, already half-asleep in his arms. “But you better not run away again.”

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice barely audible over the hum of the city. And for the first time that night, you believed him. Let’s just hope next time he will be more open and honest about how he is feeling with you.

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @annybah @niredsw @stqrlxght @kriss-w @marilovz @blkmystery @multiverse-fandoms-2001 @turquoizxe @mishellii @kor-0suu @feelya @theamazingmilli @multim00n @m00nd0v3 @sodavrr @maialublmere @radtragedyarcade @spiderhook @night-fall-moon @ekkosh @hoonobono @bandletale @thesecondhandwoman @alientee @duchessmoooon @lilbunny1sworld @lil-kpopstan @mbekgsv @lulumallow @ametheslime @sunshiines-stuff @lolana101 @jadeash434 @hobieeeloverrr @misonesaturou @serene6728 @hellokittyfeenie

banner. @anitalenia

[scudslut]

Fiending for Daryl x F!reader at the point where they're super domestic and sexually comfortable with each other. Like making jokes like "I'll do that thing you like if you take Dog for a walk ;)" and just being super teasing and playful with each other

lazy mornings w/ daryl

daryl x f!reader

wc: 1k

warnings: teasing, slight allusions to sex, mdni

a/n: omfg i adored this idea. thinking about daryl finally super comfortable with you, able to relax and just be himself is just🥹 i hope this is close to what you wanted!! i kinda got carried away in my imagination with this one lol. alsooo, i have a few other requests i’m working on, i promise i’m not skipping anyone’s i just take forever to write:,)

daryl would absolutely love to tease you. he just loved to see that little spark flash in your eyes, reminding him that you want him and he has you.

he was incredibly shy initiating anything sexual during the first couple years of your relationship. and still to this day it’s not often that he’ll outright vocalize his lust, but rather use his actions and subtle, playful remarks that’ll have you ready to pounce on him the first moment you get. the little sanctuary you call home is his favorite place in the world, and it was only ever you who got to see this goofy, mischievous side of him.

and he found he couldn’t help himself, watching you around the house, so casual and domesticated.

you’d play quiet music often on the little record player he’d found, hair tied up in some messy knot, loose shorts and a small t-shirt the only things adorning your soft skin as you read, or cooked, or whatever hobby was interesting you at the time. it brought out intense feelings inside of him, ones he never imagined he’d ever feel and it almost made him giddy. so happy he could provide that safety for you to simply be, and ravenously hungry to devour you whole any chance he got.

it must’ve been sometime in early may he figured. the sun was bright in the sky no later than 6am the past few weeks. mornings still brisk but afternoons hot and nearing swim-worthy. you both rose late that day, having spent a little extra time in bed where the light flooded through the cabin windows, glowing across fluffy sheets and warm skin, simply too soothing to move from right away. he always woke before you and always had to drink you in for a while, admiring how the sun danced through the strands of your wild hair across the pillows. your chest rose so fluently and calmly it made his own tight. he’d ingrain that picture deep in his memory; your vibrant, lively body something he’d protect till his last dying breath.

you had a leg propped outside the blankets, tossed close to his body subconsciously and he brought his fingers to the soft skin of your exposed thigh, painting invisible shapes. it only took a few minutes before you started mumbling sleepily as he dragged them upwards, towards your inner thigh.

“mmm, good morning,” you breathed softly, eyes still shut but a lazy smile gracing your features.

“mornin' sunshine,” he drawled, leaning down to press light kisses over his artwork. “sleep alright?”

“mhm, you?”

he nodded against your skin. he always slept well next to you, especially now he had you all to himself; your little hole in the woods providing much-needed peace and solitude after all the years without. just you, dog, and acres of tall green trees.

speaking of which, he noticed the door creaking open behind him as he placed more nips and kisses, paws padding across the wooden floors at the sound of your voices finally awake.

his tongue dragged up, grazing over the hem of your panties. your hips shifted beneath him as you moaned softly. “can we make it an agreement that you always wake me up like this?” you gasped when his hands joined in, massaging your plush hips with strong hands.

he snorted at that, “i already always do.”

“mm, right,” you muttered quickly distracted as your hands found purchase on his soft brown locks. your morning brain never failed to amuse him. you’d mutter nonsense half asleep, sure to barely remember when you fully came too.

his fingers were just slipping under the waistband when dog whimpered quietly behind you both. a smirk cast over his face, already hearing your whines of dismay at what he was about to do.

“think somebody needs a mornin' walk,” he pulled away with a kiss to the little bow at the hem. a low groan followed in suit just as he expected and he chuckled slightly.

“D… just a few more minutes.”

but he was already dragging his body off the mattress, grabbing a random strewn shirt and pulling it over his head.

“such a tease, dixon,” he heard from the bed, turning to see you propped up with a phony pout. the corners of his eyes crinkled in a grin at your state, hair wild from sleep, and cheeks flushed pink.

“how bout this,” he bargained, leaning back down to peck your ankle and slowly up your calf. “we take him out quickly, and then i’ll bring ya right back here and let ya have yer way with me… sound fair?”

he watched as you feigned contemplation.

“come on, look at that face,” he pointed to dog, who sat patiently at the foot of the bed, tail wagging.

“never thought i’d get cockblocked by a dog, but, alas,” you sighed, trying your best to cover the grin on your face.

daryl bent over, shielding dog's ears. “hey! he can hear ya y’know,” and there was so more hiding your grin, giggles escaping your lips in fit.

he’d never seen you move so fast after that, speedily throwing on a top that barely covered your ass and rushing to the front door.

“come on doggy boy! your dad and i have a date, we gotta make this quick,” you mused loudly through the house, dog chasing after you.

he couldn’t help but shake his head in laughter, following after his family blissfully. this was definitely his favorite place in the world.

sorry i’m so cheesy byyee❤️

[the-tarot-witch22]

The Next 3 Months - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you - the hermit, knight of cups, 3 of wands, 2 of wands, the hierophant, strength)

Okay so the very first thing i feel is your next 3 months will be about you only, your self love - self journey, you will be in your own comfort zone or cocoon, like no matter where you are but you will be the priority like your own self, i also feel your self esteem will have a massive glow up, I feel you will be reflecting on your self and on your past too, making better choices for your self, i also heard "solitude", so i feel these next three months will be full of that, you will be going on self introspection journey , figuring out who you truly making goals, preparing for important things in your life, I also feel there would be a new person coming in your life, a romantic interest or a good friend you might meet, and if not i feel there will be self - love in your life, you taking care of yourself, i also heard "workshops and courses" so you might be taking one too improve your skills, this pile might be very creative to begin with, "cancer moon/ Pisces sun/rising or any fire sign is also very prominent here", with Virgo and Capricorn energy! I also feel some of you would be putting yourself out there to meet someone going on dates (not everyone), i also feel travelling is quite prominent here, so i feel you might plan to travel somewhere or make plans to do so in next year, i also feel it might be a aboard trip, far from where you actually are, i also see you focusing more on your studies, to get better grades, if you are working i see your working getting less hectic, you might also meet someone while you are travelling, you might also be taking in charge of your own life, working hard to achieve things, i also feel you would be more spiritually and religiously aligned, for some of you , you guys could also begin to be brave, stand up for yourself, i feel there might some family problems around you, i feel that would also get better, i also feel this pile could have parents that are too strict, or just you don't get along with them so i feel you would stand up for yourself, or it would get better, at least better than before, i also feel the financial situation will be better for you, "i heard - do what you gotta do leave the rest to universe", there might be people in this group who gets anxious or just doesn't trust others easily, and scared or don't feel like asking for help, but i believe in you! TRUST ME things will get better from now on, even the blocked paths will open, just keep your intentions pure!

Angel cards - compromise - There might be some situations that might need your attention and you would have to come to agreement to keep the peace.

romance- GUYS what did i say, i feel there might be a romantic interest coming for some of you!, if not i feel its talking about self love and worth! and if you already have someone you will get more closer than before!

ask your angels - If you are in doubt just trust your angels and guides, they will show you the way!

Ask for help from others - As i said this pile might not like to ask for help and they try to bottle up, don't do that, your loved ones are there , share your feelings with them and your emotions, you don't have to bear the burden alone!

be assertive - as i said there will be more confidence in yourself and your worth!

Pile 2:

(The card I got for you - 3 of cups, the lovers, the world, 7 of swords, the magician and the hermit)

Okay so the very first thing i feel and heard was "love" and "celebration", I also feel someone around you might get married, in the next three months i feel there could be a party or a celebration even a small one, a birthday celebration perhaps, or you score good marks in your exams, there might also a party at your workplace, these 3 months will also help you grow in your self, there might be a small gathering or reunion in your family, you might not like it but i feel you would have to be there because of your parents/ or elders in your home, this group giving me a vibe of introvert individuals, who value their personal time and space a lot! I also feel someone could invite you to hangout!, there might be some major decisions you would have to take in these next 3 months, you will be confused yes, or have choosing one right decision for you, there could also be you might meet a potential romantic partner, most probably a soulmate, they could be platonic or romantic, i also feel the angels and universe will be on your side, there might be some transformations or awakenings you would have to go through in order to become a better version for yourself, i also heard "grow through what you go through", don't just get stuck in past whatever happens, happens, the main thing is you take a valuable lesson from it, i feel you might also develop a crush on someone in the next 3 months, I also feel someone around will help you in certain things and part of your life, you will feel complete with yourself, like more spiritually connected and free, i also feel you will break the norms or rule or just get out of your comfort zone , i feel these next 3 months will help you realize many things about yourself, i also heard "change", you might be trying or try to change your life completely by making good decisions, i also feel you will uncover the facade someone close to you like you will know they were trying to gaslight you, it could be anyone, so be careful of people and their intentions, there might be some lies involved like small ones, a mischievous intention towards you, so again be careful of that someone, it could be a friend, a family member, you might also be uncovering and improving your skills! I also feel your manifestations will come true and so will your wishes!

Angel cards -

Be assertive - Be confident in yourself and your abilities.

no need to worry - This group might overthink or worry a lot, so this is a sign for you to leave everything to universe and just keep doing , what you do!

let go - Let go of past or things that hold you back break free from them!

Communicate Clearly - Don't hesitate to speak your truth! And if something doesn't sit right with you , speak up, don't people please~

Pile 3:

(The cards I got for you - the moon, 5 of swords, knight of pentacles, 8 of wands, 8 of pentacles, and king of wands, the lovers)

Okay so the very first thing i feel for you pile 3 is, "let your gut or intuition guide you towards the right path", don't second guess your path that you choose, with time it will be all revealed, you already know what to do in your life, I also feel there are things in your life that holds you back from your full potential, but you need to figure it out on your own and let it go, and do things that actually matters and makes you happy, i also feel there will be some unexpected surprises for your from universe, like you actually didn't expect it! there will be some major transformation or job change in your life, if you don't have a job i feel you would be busy in studies and work, I also feel there will be some conflicts in your workplace or family or with your siblings, but i se you winning, or standing up for yourself, from this group i am getting earth and fire sign energy with Gemini sun/rising, I also feel there might be some inner conflicts ongoing in your life, like you doubting yourself and your abilities, I also feel there will be major changes in your love life! I feel this group might be preparing for higher studies and you will get succeed in it, I also heard "successful", so these 3 months will play a important role in your career and your studies, there might be someone soon coming into your life and they are definitely very rich! I also feel there would be quick movement all the things will go smoothly , I also feel you will travel this or next year , could be a vacation or a work trip, that you will be taking, i also heard "religious place" so you might start to believe in religion or spirituality related things, you will be working very hard and finish your ongoing projects! I also feel these next 3 months you will goals driven, and determined to make your life a bit better through your career, "i also heard take it easy, don't take too much pressure! I also feel you will be reaping the rewards soon! You will be more confident and focused on your goals, you will also embrace your masculine side a lot! But i also see you overworked and overwhelmed so again, be careful not to give yourself mental pressure!

Angel Cards -

The situation will improve - If you are not feeling good at the moment or have problems surrounded i see it gets better!

big happy changes - As i said in the reading, There will be a surprise for you in next 3 months! this is a confirmation!

Forgiveness - I also feel this group hasn't forgiven themselves for past for any reason, i wanna say take your time, and let go of those thing which are holding you back, you will be okay!

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

[gutsby]

Best Served Cold

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.

Warning: NSFW. Attempted SA. Unprotected p-in-v. I don’t condone cheating (unless it’s on abusers lol). Semi-public sex and getting caught doing it in a tent 🫣 Based on this kickass idea from @dilfsandmartinis (I'm so sorry it took this long for me to post the story) !! 💓

Your man returned to your tent that night like he did most others: slick with sweat and too tired for sex. At least not again, not with you. He would undoubtedly claim to have been checking the perimeter, standing guard like a good leader should, but any blind man in that quarry camp could’ve seen he was just boning Lori.

A lot.

You were really more offended that he thought you stupid enough to abide by his lies than the fact he was fucking someone else. That part wasn’t new—his dick never knew how to stay in one hole longer than a month or two—but in an apocalypse? With his newly-deceased best friend’s widow? That was low, even for Shane.

Which was why you felt no compunction yourself as you slipped quietly from your tent toward the water’s edge that night, pink vibrator clutched tightly in hand.

Useful little thing that it was, a six-setting suction device that worked wonders on your clit, even underwater. You figured since Shane couldn’t be bothered with you or your sexual pleasure so long as the former Mrs. Grimes was occupying his time, you’d make use of this sex toy instead and start really leaning into the “self care” you’d been craving for so long.

The water was warm all the way up to your chest, and the air around you tepid. You moved around, treaded in place, and finally reached comfortable bearings a couple yards from shore. You relished the solitude and silence.

The moment you felt the toy come to life in your hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Exhaling as you brought the tip close to your center.

“Shit.” Even the gentlest setting too harsh on your clit, you nipped your lower lip and bit back a whimper.

You swirled it lightly on your inner thigh, tried painstakingly as ever to acclimate yourself to the buzz of the rubber, but damn were you sensitive. Almost too tender to be touched, too ripe with excitement and aching for the feel of something on you, or in you, or just barely skimming the surface of your skin underwater.

A low moan escaped your lips the second the head drifted back to your clit. Your toes curled into rough, rocky terrain underfoot, and your breaths started to quicken. You made a gentle motion with your hips—a sweet, semi-circular thing you’d been doing over Shane’s lower half as long as you could remember—begging for more friction, needing more of that mechanical hum.

You pressed the button for a higher setting. The peaks of your pleasure soared to new heights.

You were helpless to the trembling of your knees and felt immensely grateful for the water’s aid in keeping you straight. You pressed the rounded tip of the toy even tighter to your core and didn’t heed a thing around you as you sighed several expletives under your breath. A jolt of bliss washed over your body.

Your eyes had just started to close in the first throes of that wild sensation, when a new sound startled you.

“Ya done pissin’ or what?”

You shot a look toward the shore and saw a slightly less-than cheery individual standing at the edge of it, the toes of his boots grazing the incoming waves.

You froze in place. You hardly knew what to say.

“Ain’t safe fer you out here ‘n you know it. Come on.” Daryl beckoned you with one hand and started to turn.

At what point was it appropriate to tell him you were naked?

You thought he could surmise from the fact you were neck-deep in the water and refusing to move that maybe something more was keeping you in. Daryl seemed clueless, however.

“I ain’t got all night, kid,” he snorted, “’f you don’t hurry, Shane an’ the rest of ‘em’ll be out and— ah.”

Ah.

At the last, he stepped on a pile of clothes folded neatly on the shoreline nearby, undergarments and all.

So this wasn’t a midnight swim or a late night piss at all, but a full-blown skinny dip. He should have known you weren’t the bikini type.

Awkwardly, almost begrudgingly, Daryl gathered what clothes of yours he could and chucked them closer to the lake. Then he turned on his heels and stalked up the beach without another word—fuming, it seemed to you. Once averted, though, Daryl’s face betrayed a look of horror. Like a parent who’d just stumbled upon a box of condoms in their daughter’s sock drawer after swearing she was still a virgin.

In the few short weeks since you’d been thrown together in this mess, Daryl had practically taken to you like family. He hated Shane ‘Shit-for-Brains’ Walsh most days, it was true, but the fact that you were you, and times were tough, and nothing seemed to occupy Daryl’s mind quite like the thought of keeping you safe, that he had to keep you close at all times. He just hadn’t imagined your proximity would turn this intimate so suddenly.

“Keep up,” he spoke more sharply than usual. Didn’t even wait for you to dry and dress completely before snagging your hand in his.

You glanced at your taut, hardened nipples poking up through the damp material of your tank top and suddenly wished you’d brought a towel. Or a bra. Your shorts, too, clung to your ass like a second skin and made you feel extra bare before Daryl’s eyes—even if he hadn’t spared a look at you once as you’d traipsed behind him through the woods.

When you tripped, he held you up; when you nearly ate shit over several rocky spots, he carried you over them. His eyes never strayed toward your body, though.

Once you’d made it to the clearing where your group had made camp, Daryl lowered you to the ground and still couldn’t find it within himself to look your way. You shuffled uncomfortably on your feet, now standing inches away from the tent you shared with Shane.

“Thanks for...that,” you said, flatly.

Daryl managed a curt nod.

Before you turned in, you decided to venture a look at Daryl’s chest, and you felt an influx of embarrassment. The taupe-colored cutoff he wore as a shirt was soaked with water. Instinctively, you brushed your fingers over the stain—as if touching it might dry the fabric, or else mask your humiliation at being the cause. You tried not to evince a hint of surprise at how sturdy he felt.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Daryl.”

You hadn’t thought any man was capable of looking more afflicted than Daryl did before, but somehow, incredibly, he appeared even more ill at ease when you touched him. You immediately retracted your hand.

“’S’okay,” he managed. He would’ve given anything not to be where he was, or who he was, at that moment.

Just when another apology leapt to your tongue—feeling even worse that you might’ve crossed a physical boundary you shouldn’t have—a twig snapped close-by.

You and Daryl jumped in your skin. You turned toward the source of the sound.

Shane was tugging his pants into place, pulling the zip up in haphazard fashion as he marched out of the woods.

He’d either been blowing Lori’s back out (again) or off to take a piss in the bushes. By the looks of his dazed and drowsy expression, you guessed it was the latter.

“Got a nice rack, doesn’t she?” Shane observed, careless as ever.

He walked past the two of you and unzipped the tent.

“I was jus—” Daryl started.

“Don’t care,” Shane cut in, “Goodnight.”

You were amazed at the level of nonchalance your fiancé exhibited. On finding you soaked to the bone and touching another man in the middle of the night, the old Shane probably would’ve laid Daryl flat on his ass.

But overprotective, possessive Shane was no more.

Before disappearing into the tent, Shane reached for your elbow. You barely got another glimpse at Daryl as you were ushered inside.

The tent was re-zipped in an instant, and you assumed Daryl would be quick to leave the scene, too.

You turned and saw Shane fumbling to unscrew the lid of his canteen. Taking several big gulps before re-fastening the top, tossing the jug to the side, and letting out a sigh.

“You get a look at the hard-on he had?” Shane chuckled.

You almost choked on your spit.

“What?”

“Pitched a tent in his pants bigger’n this,” he returned, gesturing to the polyester enclosure overhead. Then he got back to his feet, walked over to you, and kept going, in spite of your perplexed expression, “He must really wanna fuck you.”

You blinked up at him, unsure if you were more baffled by Shane’s serene demeanor or the fact that you hadn’t noticed Daryl’s boner. You decided to overlook the erection for the time being.

“And you don’t...care if he did?” Instantly chiding yourself for the twinge of indignation in your tone.

“Nuh-uh,” Shane said. His hands came to rest comfortably on your hips, and he seemed to be hearing your words without really comprehending what you meant. As usual.

If he picked up on the irritation in your voice, he didn’t show it. He just rolled the denim of your shorts between his fingers and pulled you closer.

“This,” he hummed, fingers sinking between your legs, “is not for him.”

And Shane was community dick. Made sense.

You didn’t attempt to conceal your annoyance this time as you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.

“Well maybe if Daryl asked nicely…” you trailed off, starting toward the bed.

Shane stopped you before you could. He took a firmer hold of your sides and showed the first real hint of jealousy in his eyes. You were almost glad to see it.

“No,” Shane said, shaking his head. Then, snaking his touch back down your legs—with the fabric of your shorts fisted in his hands this time—he continued amidst your quiet protests.

You were gripping his wrists, trying to keep them from moving any further. But Shane was insistent.

“He wouldn’t get to ask nicely, because I’d blow his fucking brains out before he ever got the—”

“Shane.” You were actively shoving his hands off now. You didn’t mind this envious side coming back to the surface, but you would not, under any circumstance, be Shane’s sloppy seconds the same hour he’d fucked Lori.

“No. You— you smell like—” you cut yourself off before the woman’s name could leave your lips.

“Like what?” Shane snapped. Suddenly intrigued to hear what you had to say.

You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but when you couldn’t, and when he pressed you again, you sputtered some nonsense about his drinking—how he reeked of booze, not Rick’s wife.

“Thought you liked it when I fucked you drunk,” Shane grinned, voice dripping with condescension, “Said it gave me stamina.”

You’d said no such thing. You groaned lightly as Shane managed to pull your panties and shorts, together, to your ankles. When he started to take them off at your feet, he hardly seemed to notice your nails dig in his shoulders, silently begging him to stop.

“Think I should invite Daryl back over? Let him watch me fuck you stupid?” Shane’s mouth was hovering close to your center, hot breaths fanning over your lower half.

In any other situation, you would’ve craved him here: on his knees, ready to suck and lick and dick you down like he always used to do. But things were different now, you had to remind yourself. Apart from the walking dead invading your world, there was no Rick in the picture, no semblance of platonic feelings between his widow and your fiancé—you felt physically sick at the thought of Shane touching you now. You tried to stand the instant he threw you on the bed.

“Shane, I don’t wanna—”

“Fuck? Yeah, I figured,” Shane shrugged as he tried to peel your shirt off your body.

“Then quit,” you hissed. You were starting to fear the fabric might tear if you held on any tighter.

When it seemed evident you weren’t going to give in on the top, Shane let go and turned to his pants instead. Pinning you down with one hand, he unbuckled his belt as you whimpered and pleaded that he stop. The sounds only made the mound in his pants more pronounced.

The two of you had dabbled in CNC before, but this was not that. No safeword, no fallback, no trace of consent between you, and to be frank, you were starting to get scared. The second Shane freed his cock from his boxers, you felt a surge of panic rise to your chest.

“Fuck— STOP!” Without thinking, you jerked your knee.

You hadn’t meant to hit his balls so hard. But you did. And he folded in half, seizing with pain, while you took that as your chance to slide off the bed, slip on your panties—and hightail it the fuck out of there.

Shane’s cries pierced the night air like a blade through rotted flesh. You stumbled, half-blind in the dark, and blazed a reckless path through the tents all around you. Weaving in and out of neighboring spaces, searching desperately for any lone, dim glow of a lantern to tell you someone was awake to hear your pleas if needed. But sadly, no tent was alight but yours, and the entrance to that was presently being torn open once more as Shane staggered out there himself.

“Y/N!” he bellowed.

In your haste, you’d tripped over Glenn’s knapsack. You scraped your knee, scrambled back to your feet, and tried with everything in you not to make a sound as you retreated further from Shane’s voice.

You probably looked feral, weaving in and out of tents with your knee leaking blood and your pupils grown wide with fear. You scampered fast across the rocky campgrounds and made a beeline for the woods.

Until Shane’s footsteps fell heavy mere feet away.

Quickly changing course, you dove for the nearest tent and ripped it open. When you slipped inside, zipped it up, and went crab-walking backward like a panic-stricken animal, you hardly saw much of anything else.

Had your pulse not been pounding in your ears and your gaze not glued to the front of the tent, you likely would’ve gotten a pretty good laugh at the sight behind you.

At the very least, a chuckle or a smile or a slightly sheepish blush would’ve been supplied in a second, seeing someone wide-eyed and holding his cock in a death grip just inches from your rear.

You’d unwittingly scrambled into the tent of a man who’d just been beating his dick off furiously to the thought of you—and there you were, sitting pretty in pure, unadulterated fear for the sight of your fiancé any second now. When you turned your head, your hand flew to your mouth.

“Dar— oh!”

Like before, your heads snapped in the direction of a new sound, quick to sense that it was Shane, and this time, you went crawling over to the archer without a second thought. Hardly noticing his pants were down, you leapt into his lap.

“Y/N—” Shane hissed as he tripped over something outside. You heard a clatter and a bang, the sound of a few curse words sputtered in vain, and a groan. Daryl’s arms snaked around your sides and pulled you closer.

“What’ve ya gone and done this time?” he whispered.

“Told him no,” you murmured back.

You pretended not to feel the singe of Daryl’s gaze boring straight through the side of your head. Then a little lower, to your near-bare lower half and shaking legs. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened.

“Y/N,” Daryl started, far louder than you could bear. You shushed him swiftly, ignoring the flare of anger in his eyes that told you he was currently conjuring up fifty different ways to kill Shane and just aching to act on it.

“Don’t. Please,” you said.

“Did he—”

“No. I...kneed him in the balls before he got the chance.”

“Oh.”

Shane was pacing outside, like he knew you were somewhere close. He called your name every now and then, drew near enough to send you rigid with fear. Then Daryl would hold you tight, stroke your hair, or else just graze his lips on your shoulder to let you know he was there, and eventually, the fright would subside. You nestled yourself into that touch and felt something far kinder than fear for the first time in a long time.

You felt aroused.

Ever more inspired by the sound of Shane stewing, fuming outside within earshot and the nudge of Daryl’s member against your barely-clothed core. Well…you were tempted, to say the least. You just weren’t sure if Daryl would be on board for being your lightning-quick rebound fuck of the night.

You sighed as his hips moved gently against your own.

“You think maybe—” you started.

“Yeah?”

“—you might…tell me what you were doing before I barged in here?”

Even in the dark, you could sense a blush creeping up his neck. You loved to see a man like Daryl flustered.

“Oh, uh, that?” he said in half a chuckle. Glancing down at his groin and going back and forth between two thoughts in his mind, most likely. Tell you the truth or come up with a half-assed lie on the spot.

“Just…jerking off to you.”

He never had been any good at a bluff.

Your face visibly brightened in the dim glow of the tent. You tried not to let your elation get too far ahead of you, though, lest your voice raise above a whisper and draw Shane’s attention.

“Yeah? What about?”

Daryl never thought it possible for a woman’s enthusiasm in a question to turn him on, but yours did. He looked to your lips and swallowed, suddenly at a loss for how to answer.

“I…well…”

“You’re fucking dead to me, Y/N. If you don’t—”

Your fiancé’s voice was as close, and as terrifying, as it had ever been. You eased Daryl onto his back.

“Were you thinking of this?” you teased.

You made that soft semi-circular motion with your hips and watched a brand new face contort with pleasure. The footsteps outside hardly registered in your mind any longer, as your attention was singly focused on Daryl.

He fought a groan in his throat as you grazed your slick heat over his length.

You coated him with your arousal quicker than even you had expected. You knew you were turned on, but never had it been like that, where you were damn near dripping sweet nectar all over a man’s cock. You let a little whine leave your lips.

You couldn’t help it; your cunt rocked back and forth over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and made obscene sounds as you did. The archer’s hands found your hips and gently guided you up and down as his own moans struggled to break loose.

You could’ve stayed like that forever, you figured—if you hadn’t been so fucking wet that the head of his cock slipped inside of your heat the second you and Daryl bucked your hips together. An inch was quick to stretch to seven before you could think or blink or do anything else but groan in pleasure, and suddenly, he was bottoming out inside you.

“Fuck!” Daryl hissed.

“Daryl!”

“Daryl?”

Fucking Shane, of all voices you didn’t want to hear in that moment. Fortunately, he’d heard Daryl’s voice alone and not the sound of your moan, calling his name at the same time, for entirely different reasons, it seemed.

Daryl gritted his teeth as you bounced on his cock,

“Yeah?”

“I’m looking for Y/N. You seen her, brother?”

Seen you, felt you, fucked you, yeah—he had.

Daryl closed his eyes and tried not to blow his load on the spot as you squeezed around him.

“No— no, I haven’t. Not since earlier,” he grunted.

“You sure?” Shane pressed, dissatisfied, “I heard her running around this way.”

You braced your knees against the ground and rode the man beneath you even harder, taking every ounce of resentment you felt toward Shane out on Daryl’s cock. Fuck if revenge sex didn’t feel nice when the object of your ire was standing right outside the tent.

You almost wanted to moan, wanted to whimper, but were quick to think better of it the longer you spent moving up and down his length. Seeing shades of lust in his eyes like never before, you just couldn’t bear the thought of having to pry yourself off any time soon.

Daryl sank his fingers into your thighs and sighed, leaving ten perfect crescents in their wake.

“Don’t you fuckin’ stop,” he murmured.

“Could ya— could you come outside and help me look?”

‘Come the fuck on’ seemed to be the silent, shared sentiment between you and Daryl as your bodies writhed fast against each other and your highs came close into view. You braced your hands against his chest and begged him not to answer with your eyes, but you also knew Daryl couldn’t not say something to him, either.

“I…I’m sure she’s fine.” Daryl tried, weakly.

He flipped you over so you were flat on your back, hands careful not to make much noise or cause you discomfort as he did. Cock never leaving your wet, greedy hole, he found it easier than ever to resume the pace you’d made above him—now pounding you quietly into his sleeping pad.

You gripped his back and, simultaneously, bit down on his shoulder to keep from letting out a shriek when he grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you. Tried not to whine when he hit it again. And again. And again.

Shane was growing impatient. Hovered close to the front of the tent so you could see the outline of his shadow.

“You got something better to do, Dixon?” he snapped.

Yeah, fuck your fiancée, Daryl thought with a smirk. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him even deeper.

That light, airy feeling preceding ecstasy was close at hand. You wanted to give in—let the levee break and just relish the sweet sensation quick to follow—but you knew you couldn’t. Knew yourself too well to be a screamer not to hold on a little longer, until Shane had left.

But the way Daryl’s cock was pumping in and out of you at present made it hard, to say the least.

“Just…tired, ‘s’all,” Daryl groaned close to your ear.

“Tired from what?!” Shane jeered, “Wrist been hurtin’ from how hard you’ve been jerkin’ it to Y/N, huh?”

You almost burst out laughing. Daryl quickly cupped your mouth. Fucked you harder to shut you up.

And shut up you did; but not for long, you feared. The faster he pounded you, the more that coil in your stomach came to swell, and soon enough you might—

“Eat shit, Walsh.”

“Just help me out. Please.”

Daryl shook his head and fucked you harder, much to your chagrin. You didn’t want him to stop, but you needed him to, in truth, or that swollen thing inside of you just might get the better of you and burst. You pressed your hands to his chest and tried to whimper something softly, but Daryl just hushed you with his hand to your mouth and kept on at that breakneck pace. Your eyes rolled back, your legs started to shake, and if Daryl hadn’t had to tear his attention away to say something to Shane, he might have seen how close you were to blowing your cover…before it was too late.

With one more stroke inside your wet, sensitive hole, you felt a cord inside you snap and a flurry of wild, unbridled bliss take over, stronger than you’d felt in ages.

A shriek desperate to escape your throat, your teeth raked down Daryl’s flesh with the force of it, and, instinctively, the man yanked his hand away and yelped.

You hated to do it, but the feeling was just too good. Your lips parted to release one of the most lewd and obscene sex screams of your life—with Daryl’s name following over and over as you came.

Daryl’s eyes grew to half the size of his face, it seemed. Stilling inside you, feeling your sweet, hot juices flow down him in waves, he sat there and couldn’t quite decide if he was more turned on or terrified.

When Shane tore through the fabric of the tent and charged inside, he figured it out pretty quickly, though.

[thewulf]

Teaching Trails || Azriel

Summary: Request - can i request a teacher reader x azriel where she's Nyx's teacher/tutor and feyre or rhysand asks az to pick him up since they're busy and he swears he falls in love on sight seeing reader be so sweet on Nyxie and how comfortable Nyx is around reader? just something sweet and fluffy and maybe a super nervous az when reader notices him at the doorway?? You can decide the rest. love your work!

A/N: Ahhhh I loved writing this. Idk I just picture Nyx as a sweet bubbly 5/6 year old in this. Adored writing this!

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Night Court Reader)

Word Count: 5.0k +

TW: Use of Magic (fluffy!!)

As you stand at the edge of one of the many expansive terraces of the House of Wind, the air around you is crisp, the sky a clear, deep blue above the sprawling city of Velaris below. This majestic residence is perched like an eagle's nest atop a solitary mountain and commands a breathtaking view of the Night Court. Its beauty a sure giveaway to ancient power and elegance. Yet despite its grandeur there’s a poignant isolation to it. Especially for young Nyx, whose days are spent within these walls that soar closer to the stars than to the streets where other children play.

Inside the palace is a labyrinth of ornate halls and vast chambers. Each room a masterpiece of art and architecture designed for gods rather than a playful child. The echo of Nyx’s laughter often bounces off the high ceilings. A reminder of the solitude that accompanies his royal upbringing. He is a small but vibrant figure roaming the endless corridors exploring shadowed corners and hidden nooks. His solitude veiled by the splendor surrounding him.

It's during one such quiet evening as the horizon painted a watercolor of twilight hues that Feyre brings up her growing concern to Rhysand. They are in their private chambers. A place where the masks of High Lord and Lady can be set aside. Where vulnerabilities can be voiced without the weight of a crown.

"Nyx needs more than just us. He needs more than this palace," Feyre starts with her voice steady yet filled with an urgency that draws Rhysand’s full attention. "He’s missing out on normal interactions. The kind that happen away from royal duties and ceremonial greetings. He’s a child. He should be learning through play, through friendships formed in mud and laughter. Not just in state rooms and formal gardens."

Rhysand’s expression is torn. As a father he yearns for Nyx to have every happiness the world can offer. But as a ruler the thought of his son, so precious and so exposed, wandering beyond the enchanted safety of their home is daunting. "It's dangerous, Feyre," he counters. His voice laced with a protective edge. "The world isn’t always kind, especially not to those of royal blood."

"But isn’t it more dangerous to raise him in a bubble? How will he learn to lead? To understand his people, if he only ever sees them from a balcony or at formal events?" Feyre’s hands gesture emphatically. Her eyes alight with passion. "We need to let him explore, Rhys. We need to let him be a child. Not just a prince." Their conversation stretches into the night. Debates entwined with silent contemplations until a resolution begins to dawn much like the first light over the Sidra. Rhysand’s fears don’t dissipate entirely but his love for Nyx and his trust in Feyre’s instincts lead him to a concession.

"Alright," he says finally. A reluctant smile breaking through his concerns. "We’ll find him a teacher. Someone who can guide him, teach him, yes, but also someone who can take him beyond these walls. Let him learn about life. About our people through his own experiences. Not just through stories and reports."

Feyre’s relief is palpable and together they set out to find the perfect candidate. The search is exhaustive with candidates from across Prythian and beyond interviewed. They seek not just an educator but a guardian of sorts. Someone who understands the delicate balance of nurturing a child like Nyx. Someone who can foster his curiosity and protect his spirit.

The search for a tutor for young Nyx was not a decision taken lightly. Within the ornate conference room of the House of Wind, Feyre, Rhysand, and other key members of the Inner Circle—save for Azriel, who was away on duty—gathered to commence the rigorous interview process. The room was filled with an air of solemnity as each candidate presented themselves. Their credentials scrutinized not just for academic excellence but for a deeper understanding and alignment with the values of the Night Court.

Mor, with her keen sense of people, led the questioning. Her bright eyes missing nothing. Cassian injected moments of levity lightening the mood with his humor. While Amren's piercing gaze seemed to delve into the very souls of the candidates searching for sincerity and resilience. Each member of the Inner Circle brought their own perspective ensuring that the chosen teacher would not only educate Nyx academically but would also nurture his emotional and cultural development.

Then you entered the room. With a demeanor both warm and composed you introduced yourself. As you spoke about your educational philosophy making sure to emphasize experiential learning and emotional intelligence the panel was visibly impressed. Your background in educational psychology coupled with your years of experience teaching in diverse environments highlighted your capability to adapt and thrive in any teaching scenario. More importantly your genuine passion for fostering young minds resonated deeply with Feyre who nodded appreciatively at your thoughtful answers.

Throughout the interview, your approach to education which focused on developing both the intellect and the heart of a student was clearly aligned with the Night Court's ideals. You spoke of the importance of understanding each student's unique needs and adapting lessons to fit those needs. Even suggesting outdoor classes and cultural excursions that would allow Nyx to learn about his heritage in a tangible, engaging way.

As the interviews concluded and the candidates departed the room buzzed with discussions. It was clear to everyone that you stood out not just for your qualifications but for the gentle strength you exhibited. A trait they all deemed perfect for handling the sensitive nature of their prince's education.

When the decision was made Feyre personally reached out to offer you the position. The joy and excitement in your voice as you accepted was palpable. Aware of the immense responsibility of teaching the heir of the Night Court you were nonetheless thrilled by the opportunity to make a significant impact in a young child's life.

As you prepared to step into this new role your heart was buoyant with anticipation. Not just for the challenges ahead but for the chance to contribute to shaping a future leader of the Night Court. The trust placed in you by such revered figures was not just an honor but a truth to your life's work and passion igniting a fervent desire to start this new chapter.

In the heart of Velaris away from the towering isolation of the House of Wind you spend a delightful morning with Nyx at one of the city's lush public gardens. The day is warm. The gentle buzz of the city a distant backdrop to the laughter and learning that fills the air around the two of you.

You laid out a picnic blanket under the shade of a towering silverleaf tree. The spread covered with books, sketchpads, and an assortment of colorful pencils. Today's lesson is about the flora and fauna of Prythian. A topic that has Nyx bubbling with excitement and curiosity. As he sketches a butterfly that landed briefly on the edge of your blanket you explain the role of pollinators in the ecosystem, delighted by his insightful questions and the meticulous care he takes with his drawing.

"Nyx, do you see how the colors of its wings can tell us about its environment?" you ask as you were pointing to the delicate patterns that mirror the blooms around you.

"Yes!" he exclaims. His eyes lighting up with understanding. "It’s like camouflage, right? They blend in to stay safe from predators!"

"Exactly," you reply. Your heart swelling with pride at his quick grasp of the concepts.

The lesson shifts seamlessly from science to history as you guide Nyx through the stories of the Night Court. Each tale woven into the landmarks visible from your spot in the garden. Nyx listens, rapt, as you tell him about the ancient fae who once walked these paths. The battles they fought and the peace that now thrives in their stead.

As the morning progresses Nyx's natural curiosity leads him to a question that makes you pause. His small voice tinged with genuine wonder. "Why don't you have wings like my mom, dad, Uncle Cassian and Uncle Az? Like that pretty butterfly?" he asks. His head tilting as he regards you thoughtfully.

You smile softly, touched by his innocent inquiry. "Well, not all fae have wings, Nyx. Just like not all flowers have thorns," you explain using an analogy you know he'll understand. "Each of us is unique with different abilities and gifts. It’s what makes us all special in our own way."

Nyx nods considering this. "I think it’s cool you don’t need wings to fly. You have books and stories that can take you anywhere," he decides with a wise look crossing his features that makes you chuckle.

"That’s a wonderful way to put it, Nyx. And remember, we all have our own ways of soaring," you say ruffling his hair affectionately.

As you begin to pack up the day's learning materials you lean closer to Nyx with a conspiratorial whisper. "Tomorrow, we’re going to do something special. We'll join a class with other children your age. You’ll get to play and learn together with them," you tell him watching his face light up with sheer delight.

"Really? I'll have friends to play with?" His voice is filled with excitement. His earlier thoughts about wings forgotten in the anticipation of meeting new friends.

"Absolutely," you assure him sharing in his excitement. "It’ll be a lot of fun and you’ll make lots of new friends."

Nyx's eyes sparkle with anticipation as he begins to imagine the possibilities. "I'm going to tell mom and dad all about it tonight!" he exclaims already planning out his evening conversation. "And I’ll tell Uncle Az too. He likes hearing about my adventures."

The mention of Azriel, whom you've only heard about through Nyx’s enthusiastic stories, adds an interesting layer to your perception of the mysterious figure. "That sounds like a great idea," you respond, amused, and intrigued by Nyx’s affectionate mention of his uncle. "It seems Uncle Az is quite the hero in your stories."

"Yeah! He’s really cool! He can disappear like a shadow and is always on secret missions," Nyx says. His admiration for Azriel evident in his wide eyes and animated gestures.

The day ends with Nyx bouncing along the path back to you classroom chatting animatedly about all the things he hopes to do with the other children. His excitement about sharing his upcoming school day with his family, especially with his beloved Uncle Az, whom you've yet to meet but feel like you already know through Nyx's tales, fills the air with joy.

Your heart warms at his enthusiasm knowing that these new experiences are exactly what he needs. As Nyx sketches another flower with his small hand moving confidently you know these moments of joy and anticipation are as precious to him as they are to you, nurturing not just a young prince’s mind but also his spirit. The connections he's building with his family, with you, and soon with his peers are shaping him into a thoughtful, well-rounded individual, ready to explore the world with confidence and curiosity.

As the sun begins to dip below the horizon casting a warm, golden light through the windows of your classroom the day's adventures wind down to a quieter, more reflective pace. You sit in a cozy corner of the room on a soft, plush cushioned area you've set up specifically for reading. Nyx nestles beside you as his energy from earlier now softened into the gentle tiredness of a day well spent. In your hands a beautifully illustrated book about the legends of Prythian opens to a page where the heroic deeds of ancient warriors are painted in vivid colors.

As you read aloud, your voice smooth and soothing, Nyx's eyelids begin to flutter gently. You notice his weary smile as he listens. The adventures of the day transforming into the adventures in the pages. Gently, almost instinctively, you begin to caress his hair. Smoothing it back from his forehead in a tender, rhythmic motion. It's a peaceful scene, the kind of simple, heartfelt moment that often goes unnoticed in the bustling life of the Night Court.

Unknown to you his Uncle Azriel stands at the doorway having arrived to pick up Nyx. He pauses there, a silent observer, taken aback by the tranquility and warmth of the tableau before him. His task had been simple. He was to retrieve Nyx and bring him home but the scene he encounters tugs at something deep within him. A longing for such unguarded peace.

Azriel watches as Nyx's breathing deepens, the sweet child drifting closer to sleep with each gentle brush of your hand. Your care for Nyx, so natural and affectionate, strikes a chord in Azriel. He's seen many facets of life. So many forms of relationships and bonds but the simplicity and purity of this moment resonate with him profoundly.

He remains there at the threshold hesitant to interrupt the moment. He was captivated by the gentleness of your interactions with Nyx. The world he usually inhabits—one of shadows and secrets—feels miles away from the soft warmth of this sunlit room. In this pause Azriel realizes that his task isn't just about escorting Nyx. It's about respecting and appreciating the sacred, everyday magic that people like you bring into Nyx's life.

Eventually though the story comes to an unfortunate end, and you close the book before looking down at Nyx to see him fully asleep. A contented expression on his young face. As you carefully consider how to wake him Azriel finally clears his throat softly announcing his presence.

You look up, startled slightly, your eyes meeting his for the first time. There's a moment of mutual acknowledgment. A silent appreciation for the scene he's just witnessed. An understanding that while your worlds may be different the care you show to Nyx bridges them beautifully. Azriel steps into the room. His movements gentle as he did not want to disturb the serene atmosphere you've created.

"Thank you for taking such good care of him," Azriel says quietly. His voice carrying a warmth that surprises even him. "He obviously treasures these moments with you."

"You're welcome. It's truly a pleasure teaching him," you reply with a warm smile. Your eyes reflecting genuine affection for Nyx.

As you gently wake Nyx his eyes flutter open gradually clearing as they adjust to the presence of another in the room. When he spots Azriel standing quietly by the door a bright, sleepy smile spreads across his face. He quickly scrambles to his feet, excitement replacing any remnants of sleepiness.

"Uncle Az!" Nyx exclaims. His voice filled with delight as he runs into Azriel's open arms. Azriel catches him effortlessly before lifting him into a warm hug. They share a moment, uncle and nephew reunited, their easy laughter filling the room. You grin recognizing him as the infamous Azriel in Nyx’s life.

Then as if struck by a sudden realization Nyx turns back towards you with a look of proud excitement lighting up his features. With a firm grip on Azriel's hand he pulls him closer to you and announces, "This is Miss Y/N, my favorite teacher ever!" His voice carries through the room filled with genuine admiration and joy.

Azriel's gaze shifts to you. A slight tension beneath his calm demeanor as he processes Nyx's enthusiastic introduction. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he says, his voice steady but softer than usual, a subtle undercurrent of nervousness mingling with his words.

You smile warmly, extending your hand in greeting. "I've heard a lot about you, Azriel. Nyx tells me you're quite the hero," you say. Your tone light and inviting.

Azriel takes your hand and for a moment his usual composure falters under your gaze. He's momentarily taken aback not just by the warmth of your smile but by the unexpected impact of your presence. She's beautiful, he thinks, and kind... The realization that he's slightly awestruck surprises him. He finds himself momentarily lost for words.

"And I've heard you've been learning about heroes in your lessons with Nyx," he manages to say his voice carrying a hint of warmth that rarely surfaces. Nyx obviously pleased with the exchange claps his hands excitedly.

"Can we all walk back home together?" Nyx asks looking up at both of you with hopeful, bright eyes, “Please!” He adds in for good measure as if you weren’t going to immediately say yes to him.

"Of course, Nyx," Azriel responds after looking to you for confirmation.

You nod, gathering your belongings, and the three of you step out into the cool evening of Velaris. As you walk Nyx fills the air with chatter about his day seamlessly weaving together his two worlds with tales of butterflies and ancient warriors. Azriel listens with a soft smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His initial nervousness easing as he's drawn into the simple joy of the moment. His thoughts linger on you, intrigued, and unexpectedly moved by the genuine connection forming between you, Nyx, and himself. A beautiful end to an enriching day.

As the three of you begin your walk back through the twilight streets of Velaris the usual calm that Azriel embodies seems to waver slightly. He is typically a figure of stoic composure, his presence both commanding and elusive shadowed by the mysteries of his duties as the Spymaster. However, today, as he walks beside you, something is distinctly different.

Azriel's steps are measured. His usual fluid grace tempered by a hint of uncertainty. His glances towards you are quick, almost cautious, as if he's trying to decipher an unfamiliar script. The conversation flows easily around Nyx's enthusiastic chatter about his day but each time you turn your attention directly to Azriel a subtle tension flickers across his features.

"You really have a wonderful way with Nyx," you say hoping to bridge the gap with kindness. "He's always so excited to share what he's learned with you."

Azriel nods. A slight flush visible beneath the dusky hue of his skin. "Thank you," he murmurs as his voice is softer than usual. "It's... it's good to see him so happy. You do a lot for him."

The simplicity of your interactions, the easy smiles and gentle teasing you offer to Nyx, resonate with Azriel in a way that is both heartening and unnerving. He's unaccustomed to feeling this way—unsettled yet drawn in, eager yet shy. His hands though normally steady and sure whether wielding a weapon or a shadow clench slightly at his sides betraying his internal struggle.

As Nyx runs ahead a little, bursting with energy as he recounts another part of his day, Azriel takes a moment to compose himself. He glances at you again. This time holding your gaze a moment longer than before. The vulnerability rarely seen by others is palpable now as it was a quiet admission of his nervousness.

"I'm... not usually this unsure," Azriel confesses quietly almost to himself. "But there's something about these moments…. seeing Nyx so at ease with you. It's more comforting than I anticipated."

Your response is a gentle smile, one that acknowledges his admission without pressing further. It's a smile that seems to say you understand that the quiet spaces between words can be filled with kindness, not just silence.

The rest of the walk continues with a softer ease. A budding respect forming amidst the shared glances and the fading light of day. Azriel's initial nervousness slowly ebbs away instead replaced by a quiet appreciation for the unexpected warmth this evening has brought into his usually guarded world.

As the three of you approach the grandeur of the House of Wind, the towering structure casts long shadows over the cobblestone paths. It’s presence as awe-inspiring as it is imposing. Nyx who was still bubbling with energy despite the day's adventures, rushes ahead. Clearly he was eager to recount his tales to Feyre and Rhysand. You pause at the entrance. The vast doors open as if welcoming back its prince.

"It's been a wonderful day, Nyx," you say, giving him a soft hug. "Don't forget to draw that butterfly we talked about!"

"I won't, Miss Y/N!" Nyx promises. His voice echoing slightly in the vast entryway. He turns and dashes inside as his laughter lingered in the air.

You turn to Azriel with a smile gracing your lips. "Thank you for letting me share part of your evening. I should head back home now."

Azriel’s expression shifts. Concern etching his features. "It’s getting late," he observes while glancing at the skies, now painted with the deep blues and purples of dusk. "Please, allow me to walk you back to your home. The streets can be less than forgiving at this hour."

You pause appreciating his concern but ready to reassure him of your safety. "That’s very kind of you, Azriel, but it’s no worry. I know these streets well," you say as you turned to make your way down the path.

Before you can take more than a few steps a subtle but firm presence stops you. Looking down you see one of Azriel’s shadows has stretched out across the path in front of you almost playfully barring your way. It's a gentle unspoken plea that catches you by surprise echoing Azriel’s silent wish for you not to go alone.

Azriel takes a step forward. His gaze earnest. "I would truly feel better if I could ensure your safe return. Please," he adds. A rare hint of vulnerability in his voice that you hadn't expected.

Seeing the genuine concern in his eyes and touched by his quiet insistence you nod to him with a smile spreading across your face. "Alright, Azriel, if it means that much to you then I’d welcome the company," you agree. The warmth in your tone matching the softness in his eyes.

"Thank you," he replies visibly relieved. He quickly steps inside to ensure Nyx is settled and returns to you with a more relaxed demeanor ready to accompany you.

As you and Azriel begin the walk back to your home the streets of Velaris are bathed in the gentle glow of the stars and softly lit lanterns casting an enchanting light over the cobblestones. The atmosphere lends a serene backdrop to the conversation that begins to unfold between you.

"You know, Nyx speaks so highly of you," you start by breaking the initial silence with a warm tone. "He's always so excited after spending time with you. You must have some exciting tales from your duties."

Azriel chuckles softly. A sound so serene that it seems to dance in the night air. "Nyx has a way of making everything sound more thrilling than it might actually be. But yes, there are times when my duties hold some... intrigue." He pause, as if weighing what to share. "Mostly, I'm just ensuring that the court and our lands are safe. It's not always as adventurous as Nyx might depict."

"And what about when you're not cloaked in shadows and mystery?" you ask genuinely curious about the man beside you beyond his role as the Spymaster.

A hint of surprise flickers across Azriel's face. Surprised yet pleased by the interest you’re showing in him. "I enjoy solitude, usually. Reading, training... Though I have a fondness for sword making. It’s a craft that requires precision and patience much like my usual work but with a more tangible, creative result."

"Sword making? That’s fascinating," you remark smiling at the thought. "It must be rewarding to create something so intricate and vital."

"It is," he agrees. His voice softening ever so slightly. "And what about you? What do you enjoy doing in your free time?"

You nod before reflecting on your simple pleasures. "I love hiking and just watching nature. There’s something peaceful about observing the natural world. Just seeing how it exists so beautifully without any need for interference."

The conversation flows naturally from there. The earlier apprehension melting into a mutual appreciation for each other’s hobbies and life outside of official duties. As you talk Azriel’s steps seem to synchronize with yours. His presence an incredibly comforting shadow by your side.

When you finally reach your doorstep the city around you has quieted even further. The only sounds being the distant murmur of the Night Court's nightlife and the gentle rustling of leaves. Azriel pauses, standing just a bit closer than before. His usually guarded demeanor dimmed under the starlight.

"Thank you for allowing me to walk you home," he says. His voice sincere and gentle as if reflecting the calmness of the evening.

"It was my pleasure," you respond, finding yourself reluctant to end the conversation. "I enjoyed our talk, Azriel. It’s nice to see the person behind the shadows."

He smiles. A true smile that reaches his eyes making them sparkle with a rare lightness. "I did as well. More than I expected. Perhaps we could do this again, maybe take a hike together?"

"I’d like that," you agree. Your heart light with the promise of future conversations, of shared paths both literal and metaphorical.

"Good night, Miss Y/N. Take care," Azriel says as he steps back ready to meld back into the shadows from which he came.

"Good night, Azriel. And thank you… for everything tonight," you call after him. A smile still playing on your lips as you watch him disappear into the night. The connection between you both stronger and sweeter for the shared walk under Velaris’ starlit sky.

In the days that follow Azriel finds himself inventing reasons to visit your classroom or accompany Nyx to his lessons more often than strictly necessary. Each visit, purportedly to check on Nyx’s educational progress or to discuss scheduling with you becomes a cherished opportunity for him to engage in brief, yet meaningful conversations with you.

Each encounter, ostensibly casual, subtly deepens his affection and admiration for you. He begins to notice the small details: the way your eyes light up when discussing a new teaching method, the gentle patience with which you guide Nyx through difficult lessons, and the enthusiasm that bubbles up when you talk about your nature hikes. Azriel who was typically reserved and composed finds himself drawn into your world of vibrant enthusiasm and heartfelt dedication.

One afternoon as Azriel stands somewhat hidden by the doorway of your classroom just like he did that first day he met you observes a particularly touching scene. Nyx, having mastered a particularly tricky spell, turns to you with a triumphant grin. You laugh, your joy as vivid as the sparkle in Nyx's eyes. He swears your laughter seems to light up the room.

Watching this Azriel feels a warmth spread through him. A warmth that has little to do with the sun filtering in through the windows. It’s in this simple, unguarded moment that he realizes his feelings for you have deepened beyond mere admiration. He's not just falling for your kindness towards Nyx but also for the genuine spirit and infectious joy you bring into every interaction.

As he steps away from the doorway with a thoughtful smile playing on his lips Azriel knows that what he feels is something profound and undeniable. Your spirit which was so vibrant and full of life calls to him in a way that no one else ever has. And as he walks away with his shadows trailing behind him he’s certain of one thing. He wants to explore where this connection might lead not just for Nyx's sake but for his own heart’s as well.

After ensuring that Nyx was safely back at the House of Wind you begin to make your way back towards your home. The day's light is waning casting long shadows that stretch across the cobblestone streets of Velaris, adding a mystical allure to the city’s evening charm.

As you step forward, the sound of your footsteps is a soft echo in the quieting city. You're lost in thought pondering the pleasant interaction with Nyx and looking forward to the solitude of your evening walk home. However, before you can get far you hear Azriel’s voice calling out from behind you.

“Wait, please!” His tone carries a blend of urgency and hesitation that halt’s you in your tracks.

You turn around surprised to see him approaching quickly. His usually composed demeanor replaced by a slight breathlessness. The shadows that always linger around him seem to pulse in sync with the heightened beat of his heart.

Azriel catches up to you. His expression earnest. “I just wanted to ask properly,” he starts, his voice steadying as he meets your gaze. “Would you join me for a hike this evening? There’s a trail not far from here that’s especially beautiful in the evening light. I think you’d really enjoy the views, and...” He pauses before taking a breath reassuring himself, “I would really enjoy the company.”

Your smile deepens, touched by his sincerity and the vulnerable way he presents his request. The softening of his features and the hopeful look in his eyes paint a picture of a man stepping beyond the shadows that define him.

“I would love to, Azriel,” you reply warmly. Your voice filled with genuine excitement. “It sounds like a perfect way to end the day.”

Relief washes over Azriel’s face. His usual stoic mask giving way to a rare, genuine smile. “Thank you,” he says as if a weight was lifting from his shoulders. “Shall we meet at the edge of the city in half an hour?”

“That sounds wonderful,” you agree already anticipating the quiet beauty of the trail and the shared moments ahead.

As you both part ways to prepare for the evening hike the anticipation of the upcoming adventure brings a new spring to your step. Azriel turns back once more watching you walk away, his heart lighter. He realizes just how much he’s looking forward to exploring not only the natural wonders of Velaris but also the potential of a new and blossoming relationship with you. The thought brings that rare and hopeful smile to his lips. One that he carries with him as he disappears into the shadows to ready himself for the evening.

ACOTAR Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @lilah-asteria

[koyagifs]

𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾

pairing: pirate!wooyoung x mermaid!reader au: pirate au genre: angst with happy ending word count: 6.984k synopsis: wooyoung searched far and wide for his lover, regardless of the consequences. warning(s): toxic family relationships, screaming match. please let me know if i miss anything else!! now excuse me while i go cry bc i actually really love this couple :(

part one

Yn swam swiftly, the cool water embracing her like an old friend as she made her way behind the ship. The familiar silhouette loomed in the distance, its massive hull cutting through the water like a silent sentinel. Her heart ached with every stroke, but she knew she needed this—this space, this distance, to breathe.

As she glided deeper into the shadow of the ship, she couldn't help but glance down, her hand brushing against the smooth surface of the shell that Wooyoung had given her. The one they had picked out together, so long ago, while laughing and talking about dreams they both thought would never end.

The shell had always been a symbol of something deeper between them—a quiet promise, a token of their bond. It was delicate yet strong, much like their friendship, and Yn had never been able to part with it, even as things between them started to shift. But now, holding it in her hand, she felt the weight of what she had just walked away from—the weight of the words she couldn’t say, the feelings she didn’t know how to handle.

She sank lower into the water, letting the pressure surround her, blocking out everything but the rhythm of her breathing and the gentle pull of the ocean currents. She needed to escape, to think clearly, but even in this solitude, all she could hear was Wooyoung’s voice, his plea, the raw emotion in his words.

Why did you have to say it, Wooyoung? she thought, her chest tightening at the memory. Why did you have to make me feel this way?

She clenched the shell tighter in her hand, but even the coolness of the ocean couldn’t calm the storm inside her. Her heart was torn in two, caught between her love for him and the fear of losing everything. It’s too dangerous, she thought, the words repeating like a mantra in her mind. It’s too dangerous for both of us.

And yet, even as she told herself that, part of her longed to turn back, to swim back to him and just hold him. To tell him everything, even if it meant risking it all. But she knew she couldn’t. Not yet. Not until she figured out what to do with the mess of emotions he had stirred in her.

As Yn approached the familiar, shimmering reef that marked the edge of her underwater home, the sense of comfort she usually felt was replaced with a growing dread. The vibrant coral, the swaying seaweed, and the soft hum of the ocean currents seemed to mock her unease. She knew what awaited her within the grand, shell-encrusted structure that she had called home for so long: the voices of her mother and father, heavy with disappointment and concern.

Her movements slowed as she approached the entrance, her fingers brushing against the intricate carvings along the coral doorway. She hesitated, her chest tightening as the imagined weight of their words pressed down on her. But the soft glow of the bioluminescent crystals inside told her she couldn’t avoid this forever.

As Yn swam deeper into the grand expanse of her underwater home, the familiar sight of guards stationed along the corridor came into view. They stood at attention, their tails shimmering faintly in the glow of bioluminescent coral lining the walls. Each one lowered their head respectfully as she passed, their deference a constant reminder of the expectations placed on her.

But instead of comfort or pride, Yn felt the weight of dread pressing harder against her chest with every stroke she took. The closer she got to the central chamber, the heavier her limbs felt, as though the water itself resisted her movements.

She could already hear the faint murmur of voices—her mother and father, undoubtedly waiting for her. Their tones were muffled but unmistakably stern, the cadence of concern woven tightly with disappointment. They would have known she was near the surface again. They always knew.

The ornate archway of the main hall came into view, encrusted with shimmering shells and pearls that gleamed like a beacon of tradition and authority. Yn hesitated for a moment, her fingers brushing the edge of the cool stone frame. She closed her eyes, drawing in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself before swimming inside.

As she crossed the threshold, the full weight of their presence struck her. Her mother, regal and poised, turned first, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. Her father, standing beside her, exuded quiet authority, his arms crossed over his chest. Both pairs of eyes locked onto her, heavy with unspoken questions and accusations.

"Yn," her mother said, her voice sharp but steady. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done?"

Yn clenched her fists, holding her head high despite the dread pooling in her stomach. "I’m here, aren’t I?" she replied, her voice more defiant than she intended, though it trembled with the effort.

Her father’s eyes narrowed slightly. "You’ve been near the surface again. Near him, haven’t you?"

Yn didn’t answer right away. She stood tall, her posture defiant, but her gaze stayed fixed on a point just beyond them, refusing to meet their piercing stares. The weight of the shell in her hand was grounding, a reminder of the fleeting freedom she felt whenever she was with Wooyoung.

"Yn," her mother’s voice cut through the tension, softer than her father’s but no less filled with urgency. "Please, look at us. This isn’t a game. Do you know how dangerous this is? For all of us?"

Yn’s lips trembled, but she still didn’t answer. Her silence hung heavy in the water, the tension in the room thick enough to feel. Her father let out an annoyed groan, his patience clearly fraying. "Yn," he said, his voice sharp and cutting. "This is not the time for games. Answer me."

Her mother, more measured but equally concerned, sighed deeply, swimming closer to her. "Yn, sweetheart," she said softly, her tone a mix of worry and frustration. "We’re not trying to fight with you. We just need to understand—"

But before her mother could get any closer, Yn instinctively swam back, putting more distance between them. Her movements were quick and defensive, her eyes darting between them like a cornered creature. She gripped the shell tighter, as if it were the only thing tethering her to her emotions.

"You are to be wed to Prince Taeyong," her father declared, his voice echoing with finality throughout the chamber.

Yn froze, her mind spinning as his words settled like a stone in her chest. "What?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Her mother turned her head away, unable to bear the heartache etched so clearly in her daughter’s trembling voice. Guilt flickered across her face, but she remained silent, unwilling or unable to challenge her husband’s decision.

Her father’s tone remained cold and unyielding. "And you are to stay away from that boy," he added, his words cutting through the water like a blade. "A guard will be assigned to you at all times until the wedding. Do you understand me?"

Yn’s breath hitched as her father’s command struck her like a tidal wave. Her fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as anger and despair clashed within her. "You can’t do this," she said, her voice shaking but defiant.

Her father’s eyes narrowed, his expression hard as stone. "I can, and I will, if it means keeping you in line. This is not up for discussion, Yn. Your reckless behavior ends now."

Tears welled in Yn’s eyes, her vision blurring as her chest tightened. "I’m not some prisoner you can lock away!" she cried, her voice cracking with the force of her emotions. "This isn’t fair!"

"Fair?" her father scoffed, his voice filled with frustration. "Life isn’t fair, Yn. Sacrifices have to be made for the greater good, and this is yours. You’ll learn to accept it."

Her mother flinched at his harsh words, but still, she said nothing, her silence cutting deeper than any reprimand.

Yn shook her head, her tears falling freely now, the ache in her heart almost unbearable. She took a step back, the familiar corridors of her home suddenly feeling like the walls of a cage. Unable to bear the emotional wave that course through her body, she swam away.

She took a step back, the familiar corridors of her home suddenly feeling like the walls of a cage, each shimmering pearl and ornate shell a cruel reminder of the life she couldn’t escape. The weight of her father’s decree pressed down on her chest, suffocating and unrelenting.

Unable to bear the emotional wave coursing through her body, Yn turned and swam away, her movements fueled by desperation and heartbreak. The tears she had fought to hold back now spilled freely, dissolving into the water around her as she darted through the labyrinth of her palace.

Her mother called after her, her voice trembling with guilt and worry. "Yn, wait!"

But Yn didn’t stop. She couldn’t. The overwhelming sense of betrayal and confinement drove her forward, her tail slicing through the water with speed she didn’t know she possessed. She barely registered the concerned glances of guards and attendants as she passed, her only focus being escape—anywhere but here.

The glow of the palace faded behind her as she swam into the open expanse of the ocean, the familiar safety of home replaced by the vast, cold depths. The silence out here was deafening, but for the first time in what felt like forever, she could breathe, unbound by the crushing expectations and suffocating rules of her family.

Wooyoung perched in the crow’s nest, the salty breeze whipping through his hair as he scanned the endless expanse of ocean below. His heart was a mix of hope and dread, pounding in his chest as he clutched the spyglass tighter in his hand. The rhythmic creak of the ship beneath him was the only sound besides the distant crash of waves and the occasional call of a gull.

He had been up there for hours, his eyes flickering over the water’s surface in search of any sign of Yn. Every ripple, every shift in the current, made his heart leap, only to fall again when it turned out to be nothing.

"Come on," he murmured under his breath, his voice carried away by the wind. "Where are you, Yn?"

Wooyoung’s heart ached as he gripped the edge of the crow’s nest, his gaze fixed on the endless waves. The guilt that gnawed at him since his confession hadn’t eased—it had only grown. He hadn’t meant to put you in this position, torn between your world and his. But he couldn’t take the words back, nor could he deny the feelings he had kept bottled up for so long.

He sighed, running a hand through his wind-tousled hair. "I’m sorry," he whispered to the ocean, as if you could hear him.

He knew how much your parents hated humans—how they feared them, mistrusted them, and saw them as nothing but trouble. And yet, every time you defied their rules to visit him, it felt like a fleeting miracle. Wooyoung cherished every laugh you shared, every story you told, and every moment you spent together, even if they came with the risk of discovery.

But now, he couldn’t help but feel like he had pushed too far. The memory of your tear-filled eyes haunted him. He had wanted to protect you, to offer you a place where you could be free to be yourself. Instead, he had only made things harder for you.

He gripped the spyglass tightly, scanning the horizon again. The guilt weighed heavy in his chest, but it was no match for the fear of losing you. He had to see you, to know you were safe.

"Please," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. "Just let me see you again."

" hyung! "

Wooyoung’s head snapped down at the sound of Jongho’s voice. He saw him standing on the deck, waving up at him with his usual calm but firm expression. Beside Jongho stood Hongjoong, arms crossed and gaze piercing as it fixed on Wooyoung.

Wooyoung felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to stay in the crow’s nest, out of reach and away from Hongjoong’s scrutinizing stare. But he knew better than to ignore his captain.

With a heavy sigh, he began his descent, climbing down the rigging with a practiced ease that didn’t match the tension in his body. As his boots hit the deck, Jongho stepped back to let Hongjoong take center stage, his presence as commanding as ever.

"Wooyoung," Hongjoong said, his tone measured but firm. "Care to explain why you’ve been up there all day, staring at the horizon like a lost puppy?"

Wooyoung hesitated, glancing at Jongho, who simply raised an eyebrow as if to say, You’re on your own with this one.

"I, uh..." Wooyoung scratched the back of his neck, avoiding Hongjoong’s sharp gaze. "Just... keeping watch. You never know when trouble might show up, right?"

Hongjoong wasn’t buying it. He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Trouble? Or someone?"

Wooyoung’s throat tightened. He opened his mouth to respond, but Hongjoong cut him off.

"You’ve been distracted, Wooyoung," Hongjoong said, his voice low but not unkind. "Ever since we left port, your head’s been somewhere else. And I don’t have to guess where."

Wooyoung kicked his feet against the deck, avoiding eye contact with Hongjoong as he heard Jongho’s footsteps fade away. The quiet left a heavy tension in the air, thick with the weight of unspoken words and the truth Wooyoung wasn’t sure he could face.

Hongjoong stopped a few paces behind him, his gaze sharp but silent for a long moment. Wooyoung could feel his captain’s presence without needing to look up. There was no anger in Hongjoong’s silence, just a deep concern that Wooyoung couldn’t ignore.

Finally, Hongjoong spoke, his voice quieter than before but no less serious. "You’re not the only one who cares about her, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung stiffened, his heart clenching. He didn’t want to hear it—not now. "I know," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I can’t help how I feel."

Hongjoong’s sigh was barely audible, but Wooyoung felt the weight of it. "I’m not telling you to stop caring about her," he said, his voice softening. "I’m telling you to think about what comes next. About what happens when you take this too far."

Wooyoung’s chest tightened, a hiss of annoyance leaving his lips as Hongjoong walked away. The quiet between them was suffocating, and Wooyoung could feel his temper rising. He wasn’t angry at Hongjoong—no, it was the situation. The weight of everything. The uncertainty. The pressure that had been building for so long.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "What does he know?" Wooyoung muttered under his breath, his gaze following Hongjoong’s retreating figure. It wasn’t like the captain was wrong, but Wooyoung couldn’t shake the feeling that Hongjoong just didn’t understand. He didn’t understand what it felt like to care for someone so deeply, to feel that pull in your heart every time you thought about them.

"Hey, Youngie," a familiar voice called out, pulling Wooyoung from his spiraling thoughts. He snapped his head toward the sound, his heart still racing from the intensity of the conversation with Hongjoong.

Luna stood there, her smile warm but knowing, her eyes soft with understanding.

Wooyoung didn’t immediately respond, instead running a hand through his hair in frustration. Luna’s presence, as comforting as it was, only reminded him of how tangled everything felt.

"You know Captain means well," Luna added, her tone light but laced with the kind of wisdom that made Wooyoung sigh deeply.

"I know," he muttered, glancing away. "It’s just... I don’t think he gets it, Luna." His voice was rough, the frustration of the conversation with Hongjoong still simmering beneath the surface.

Luna’s smile faded slightly, her expression softening into something more serious. She took a step closer, her presence grounding him in a way that only a friend who knew him well could.

"Wooyoung," she said quietly, her voice gentle but firm. " captain would be the only one to understand.

Wooyoung turned to look at her, confusion flickering in his eyes. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice a little sharper than he intended.

Luna gave him a soft, knowing smile. "I mean that Hongjoong isn't just some captain with a rigid sense of duty. He's been through things you can't even imagine—things that might make him understand what you're going through more than you realize."

Wooyoung frowned, processing her words. "I know he’s been through a lot, but—"

A sudden thud broke his thoughts, interrupting the flow of his words. Wooyoung’s head snapped toward the sound, heart racing as he quickly turned toward the railing. Luna, sensing his shift in attention, followed his gaze as both of them hurried to the side of the ship.

There, just below, emerging from the ocean, was Yn. Wooyoung's breath caught in his throat as he saw her, her wet hair clinging to her face, her eyes wide and searching. The sight of her made his heart race, but before he could take a step closer, he heard Hongjoong’s voice cut through the tension.

“Drop the net!” Hongjoong shouted, his tone commanding as he rushed to the railing. He glanced at Wooyoung, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and authority, and gave a sharp nod.

Yn swam toward the net, her heart pounding in her chest as the crew pulled it upward. She gripped onto the rope tightly, her tail swishing freely behind her as she was hauled up toward the ship. The coolness of the ocean clung to her, contrasting sharply with the warmth of the ship’s deck she was about to reach.

As San and Yeosang tugged the rope, Yn's muscles burned, but she didn’t let go. She wasn’t sure if it was the fear of being trapped again or the need to be close to Wooyoung that kept her holding on, but something deep inside her drove her forward. She could feel the weight of the crew's eyes on her, and though their intentions were to help, she couldn't shake the feeling of being caught once more between two worlds.

Wooyoung stood by the rope, his heart hammering in his chest as Yn got closer, her tail glistening in the moonlight as she swam toward him. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, as if every second that passed was drawing him closer to something both beautiful and uncertain.

As the net was pulled higher, Wooyoung stepped forward, eyes locked on Yn. There was so much between them—so much they hadn’t said, so many fears and doubts—but none of that mattered now. All he could focus on was her, and the desperate need to be by her side, to hold her, to help her in whatever way he could.

The footsteps of the crewmates faded into the distance, leaving Wooyoung and Yn in a silence that felt heavier than any storm. The ship rocked gently beneath them, but for a moment, the world felt like it had stopped spinning entirely.

Yn's breath hitched as her emotions broke free. The tears that had been simmering beneath the surface finally flowed freely, her body trembling as she clung to Wooyoung. She buried her face in his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace envelop her, even as her heart threatened to shatter.

Wooyoung's heart ached for her, and his grip tightened around her, as if he could hold her together when the world seemed intent on pulling her apart. His hand gently stroked her hair, murmuring words of admire.

She sobbed quietly into his chest, her voice muffled as she clung to him. "I’m so scared, Wooyoung. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know what to say anymore."

Wooyoung's heart clenched at her words, his own throat tight with unshed tears. He could feel her shaking, the depth of her fear sinking into him. He wanted to promise her that everything would be okay, but he knew the road ahead wouldn’t be easy.

" what happen? i haven't seen you cry this hard since san accidentally ate fish in front of you." Wooyoung asked.

Wooyoung’s heart skipped a beat as he gently helped Yn sit on the base of the ship, the weight of her words sinking in. His brow furrowed in concern, but when she let out a small laugh, he couldn’t help but smile, relieved to see even a hint of lightness in her eyes.

"Don't remind me," she muttered, her voice cracking slightly as she wiped away the remnants of her tears. "You know how much I hated sannie for that."

Wooyoung chuckled softly, relieved to see her trying to smile. "I won't," he promised, his tone soft. He moved to sit beside her, their shoulders touching, the warmth of his presence steadying her.

Then, Yn’s voice grew quieter, filled with the depth of everything she had been carrying. "My parents, Woo… I love you so, so much," she said, her words trembling as she glanced up at him, her eyes still shining with tears. "When you confessed to me, I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to say yes, but… everything with my family, the ocean... it’s just so much. And I’ve always been stuck between two worlds."

Wooyoung’s heart seemed to stop at her words. The air around them felt heavy, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He pulled back slightly, just enough to see Yn’s face, her eyes still red from crying, but now filled with something that was both painful and determined.

“I’m betrothed to another, Woo…” she whispered again, her voice barely audible, as if saying the words out loud made them real in a way she hadn’t been ready for. Her gaze dropped to the ground, the weight of her confession settling in the space between them.

His mind raced, trying to process what she was saying. The world suddenly felt far too small for the two of them, caught in this unbearable tension. "What?" Wooyoung breathed out, his voice cracking slightly. "Yn, no, you can’t... you can’t be—"

“I didn’t want this, Woo,” she interrupted quickly, her voice sharp with frustration, as if she were trying to convince herself as much as him. "But my parents… they’ve already arranged it. It’s been decided, and I don’t have a choice. I… I can’t just run away from it."

Wooyoung’s heart shattered seeing Yn in so much pain. He hadn’t realized until now how deeply the weight of everything had been affecting her. The tears falling from her eyes mirrored his own, and for a moment, they just sat there—two souls bound by love but torn apart by circumstances beyond their control.

Yn picked at her scales absentmindedly, her fingers trembling as they traced the delicate lines of iridescent blue and green that decorated her skin. Her gaze was far away, lost in thoughts she couldn’t voice. Wooyoung’s chest tightened at the sight of her distress.

He shuffled slightly away, giving her space, though he didn’t want to. His own emotions were a whirlwind, and he needed to process everything, but it broke him to see her so lost.

"I don’t know what to do, Woo," she whispered, her voice so quiet it was almost drowned by the sound of the ocean. She continued to pick at her scales, a nervous habit she’d developed whenever she was overwhelmed. "I love you so much, but my life... it’s like it’s already been decided for me. I don’t know how to change that."

Wooyoung swallowed hard, his heart aching at how powerless he felt in this moment. He had never felt so helpless before. But he had to remind her, even if he wasn’t sure how to fix everything yet.

Yn wiped her eyes quickly, startled by Hongjoong’s sudden appearance. Her heart skipped a beat, a mix of confusion and uncertainty swirling inside her. Wooyoung instinctively pulled her closer, his protective instincts kicking in, though he didn't release her.

Hongjoong’s smile remained soft, but there was a knowing glint in his eyes. “I may be able to help with that,” he said again, his voice calm but firm, as if he had an idea that could change everything for them.

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, glancing at Yn before looking back at Hongjoong, the skepticism clear in his expression. “Help with what, hyung?”

Hongjoong’s gaze flickered to Yn, and then back to Wooyoung. “I know you both are in a difficult situation, but I’ve been paying attention. I think I might have a way to give you both more time—to find a solution that isn’t as... permanent as the one your parents have set for you, Yn.”

Yn’s brow furrowed as she sniffled again, still unsure. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice tentative, though her eyes were filled with a flicker of hope.

“I know it’s not much, and I’m not promising that this will be easy,” Hongjoong began, stepping closer to them both. “But... I think there’s a way we can buy you some time—time for you to figure things out without immediately being forced into that betrothal. Time for you to make your own choice.”

Yn clung tightly to the hammerhead shark, her fingers brushing against its rough, slick skin as it glided effortlessly through the water. The creature, a loyal companion and protector, seemed to sense her distress, its large head tilting slightly as it swam beneath her, providing her with the stability and comfort she needed in that moment.

The cold, deep waters of the ocean felt almost like a sanctuary compared to the heavy, suffocating pressure she had just left behind. The hammerhead shark, an imposing figure with its wide, angular head, was a reminder of the strength and resilience she still had within her, even when everything felt so out of control.

Yn’s heart raced as the shadows of the ocean grew longer, the dimming waters swallowing the light of the surface above. The hammerhead shark swam steadily beside her, its large head cutting through the water, but Yn felt an unsettling pull, a sense of dread that seemed to come from the very depths of the sea itself. It was as if the darkness beneath her was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Her tail flicked nervously, pushing her forward, but the ocean felt heavier now, as if each movement required more energy. She glanced over her shoulder at the ship trailing in the distance, the sound of creaking wood and faint voices carried by the wind. The weight of her decision hung in the air, the impossible choice between her love for Wooyoung and the demands of her family.

But now, there was something else lurking, a feeling that there was more at play than just her own fears. The shark beside her, once a comforting presence, now seemed more like a sentinel—silent, focused, as if it too sensed the danger.

Yn felt a shiver crawl up her spine, a sudden coldness settling in her chest as the shadows beneath the ocean deepened. The light from above was almost gone, swallowed by the growing night and the vastness of the sea. The shark moved more urgently now, its tail swishing faster as if it had sensed a shift in the water.

The closer they came to the ship, the heavier the air became. Yn’s pulse quickened, and she instinctively swam closer to the shark for protection. What was it? What had changed in the ocean’s current?

Suddenly, a dark shape flickered in the depths below—a ripple in the water that sent a jolt of panic through Yn’s chest. Her breath hitched, and her instincts screamed at her to swim faster, to get away. The hammerhead shark surged forward, pushing her onward, but it too seemed wary, its movements more frantic now.

“W-what’s down there?” Yn whispered to herself, her voice trembling in the water. She felt the pull of something dark, something ancient, something far beyond her comprehension. The ocean was vast, and it had its secrets. And right now, it felt like one of those secrets was waking up.

A low, rumbling growl echoed from the depths, vibrating through the water and shaking Yn to her core. She froze, her eyes wide with fear. The shark beside her turned, its body tensing as it swam in a tight circle, its instinct to protect her clear. But Yn’s gaze was fixed on the shadow moving beneath them, rising up from the depths like a predator. The water around them rippled as something enormous stirred in the dark.

Before she could process what was happening, the surface of the water above her began to ripple violently. The ship—a beacon of light and safety just moments before—suddenly seemed so far away.

The hammerhead shark hissed, its body bracing for something larger approaching, and Yn felt the sea itself shift, the ocean turning from a place of solace into one of danger.

Yn's breath caught in her throat as the shadows in the water cleared, and there, in the dim light filtering through the waves, she saw the unmistakable figures of her father and his guards. Her heart sank into her stomach, her pulse thundering in her ears. They were here.

Her father, his stern figure cutting through the water like a shadow, was flanked by two of his elite guards. They moved with an eerie grace, the sharp glint of their armor visible even in the depths. They were not here to negotiate. They were here to bring her back.

The hammerhead shark, her loyal companion and protector, let out a sharp, warning hiss, but before Yn could fully process the danger, the creature swam away, retreating into the deeper waters. The shark, once so steadfast at her side, was now gone—pulled away by some unseen force or by the overwhelming presence of the guards.

Yn's heart thudded painfully as her companion disappeared into the shadows, leaving her alone in the vast, suffocating ocean. The coldness of her father’s approach seemed to fill the water around her, and she could feel the weight of his presence pressing down on her, even from a distance.

"Yn," her father’s voice, low and commanding, cut through the water like a blade. "You’ve gone far enough."

Her breath hitched, her body frozen in place, and she didn’t respond immediately. The sting of his words—the disappointment, the anger—was too much to bear. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. The father who had always been her protector was now the one chasing her down, the one who would take her back to a life she didn’t want.

" no" yn said, surprising herself and her father. The word escaped Yn’s lips before she could fully process it. It was quiet, almost a whisper, but in the tense silence of the water, it rang out with a weight she hadn’t expected.

Her father’s eyes widened, and for the first time, there was a flicker of something like uncertainty in his gaze. The guards, too, stopped in their tracks, looking at each other as if unsure whether they had heard correctly.

"No," Yn repeated, her voice stronger this time, though it trembled with the weight of her own defiance. The water around her seemed to thicken with the tension, as if the ocean itself was holding its breath.

Her father’s face hardened, and the anger that flashed in his eyes was a stark contrast to the brief softness she had seen. His jaw clenched, his posture shifting as he swam closer, his authority palpable in the water around them.

"You dare defy me?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous, each word cutting through the current like a blade.

Yn’s heart was pounding in her chest, her tail flicking nervously beneath her, but there was no turning back now. She had said it. She had spoken the words that had been trapped inside her for so long.

"I’m not going back," she said, her voice firm, though the words felt foreign on her tongue. "I won’t marry him. I won’t live my life the way you want me to."

The fury in her father’s eyes was enough to send a shiver through Yn’s body, but she stood her ground. The desire to flee was overwhelming—her instincts screaming at her to swim away from the storm that was about to break. But she couldn’t. Not now. Not after everything she had just said.

Her father’s glare bore into her, his tail lashing angrily behind him as he swam a few paces closer. The tension in the water thickened with every passing second, and Yn felt the weight of his disappointment like a physical force pressing against her chest. The ocean around them seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the next move.

“You really think you can defy me?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. His normally controlled demeanor had shattered, and now the anger was raw, unchecked. “You are my daughter, Yn. You were never meant to have a choice. You belong to the kingdom. You belong to your people. Do you understand what that means?”

Yn swallowed hard, but her resolve held steady. She could feel the pounding of her heart in her ears, the fear and anger swirling within her, but she refused to show it. This was her moment. The one moment she would take for herself.

"Daddy, I love him!" Yn cried out, her voice breaking as she struggled against her father's iron grip. Every movement she made felt like she was being pulled further away from everything she wanted—away from Wooyoung, from the life she had begun to imagine with him. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat a reminder of the love she felt, and the overwhelming fear of losing it all.

Her father’s grip tightened, his eyes flashing with both anger and something colder, something deeper. "Enough, Yn!" he snapped, his voice sharp like a whip. "You cannot love him. He is human. You are of the sea, and that is where your loyalty must lie, not with a mere human."

Yn’s tail swished violently through the water, trying to free herself from his grasp, but her father’s strength was too much. His fingers dug into her arms, and with every pull, she was dragged further and further away from the ship that still held Wooyoung’s presence. The sight of the ship growing smaller in the distance filled her with a new wave of desperation.

"You don’t understand!" Yn cried, her voice thick with tears. "I don’t care that he’s human. I don’t care about the rules. I love him. Why can’t you just let me be happy?"

Her father’s face twisted in fury, his patience wearing thin. "You are a fool, Yn. You think love can change everything? The ocean does not care for love. It only cares for power and tradition. You cannot have both."

With a final, desperate tug, Yn broke free from her father's grip, her tail propelling her forward with all the strength she could muster. The rush of freedom surged through her, and for that brief, fleeting moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. She could feel the pull of the ocean behind her, but it wasn’t enough to drag her back. Not this time.

"I can and I will!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the water, filled with the determination that had been building up inside her for so long. The words felt like a declaration—both to herself and to her father. She would no longer let the fear of consequences stop her. She would no longer be bound by the traditions and expectations that had never felt like her own.

Her heart raced as she swam faster, pushing herself toward the surface, toward Wooyoung, and toward the ship she had almost lost. The water around her seemed to resist her movements, but her resolve was stronger than ever. She could do this.

Behind her, her father’s furious roar echoed, but she didn’t look back. She couldn’t. She had already made her choice, and she wasn’t going to let anything or anyone take that away from her.

The light of the surface was within reach, and with every stroke of her tail, it seemed to get closer, brighter. The ship loomed above her, and she could see the outlines of her friends on deck, the ship’s sails fluttering in the wind. But most importantly, she saw Wooyoung standing near the edge of the ship, his eyes scanning the horizon, looking for her.

A breathless cry escaped Yn as she surged toward the surface, breaking through the water and into the open air. The wind hit her face, and she gasped in a mix of relief and exhaustion, her eyes locking onto Wooyoung’s.

“Yn!” Wooyoung’s voice rang out, filled with both relief and concern as he rushed to the edge of the ship, his arms outstretched as if he could catch her.

Without thinking, Yn propelled herself forward, her heart leaping in her chest. She was here. She had made it. She was free.

With a final surge, she reached the ship, and Wooyoung’s hands were there to help pull her up, his touch warm and steady as he guided her onto the deck. He didn’t say anything at first—he didn’t need to. His eyes told her everything: that he was just as relieved as she was, that he was proud of her for making it.

Yn collapsed against him, her breath ragged as she held onto him tightly. She could feel the tears in her eyes, but they weren’t from sorrow anymore. They were from the overwhelming relief of knowing she had made it to where she truly belonged.

" did you get it?" yn asked, finally catching her breath.

Wooyoung smiled as it reached his eyes, he pulled out a iridescent pearl necklace that shine brightly. Wooyoung placed the necklace around her neck, Yn gasped as she felt the weight of the iridescent pearl necklace settle around her neck. The cool, smooth pearls brushed against her skin, and the moment the clasp clicked into place, a sudden warmth enveloped her entire body. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the unmistakable sensation of her tail slowly fading, replaced by a pair of legs. The transformation was both strange and beautiful—like her entire world was shifting beneath her.

Her once shimmering tail now felt like distant memory as the magic of the necklace took hold. She stared down at her new legs, flexing them slightly as the sensation of movement in a whole new form became clearer. Her fingers brushed the pearls of the necklace, their soft glow reflecting the hope in Wooyoung's eyes.

"You did it," she whispered, her voice a little unsteady. She looked up at Wooyoung, her heart swelling with gratitude. "You actually did it."

Wooyoung’s smile widened, the joy and relief in his expression lighting up the space between them. "I said I would." His eyes were full of warmth as he gazed at her, and for a moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of them, here, in this moment.

As Yn took a few tentative steps on her new legs, she stumbled slightly, still adjusting to the unfamiliar sensation. Wooyoung reached out, steadying her, his hands gentle but strong. "Easy," he said softly, his voice filled with affection. "You’ve got this."

Yn laughed lightly, the sound of it filling the air as she gained her balance, standing tall in front of him. Her eyes sparkled with newfound wonder, looking at Wooyoung with awe and affection.

Yn threw her whole body onto Wooyoung, her arms wrapping around him tightly as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms. A joyous laugh bubbled up from her chest, the kind that she hadn’t felt in so long, and the world seemed to brighten around them. Wooyoung spun her around, the two of them twirling under the open sky, the sea breeze ruffling their hair.

Her heart soared with every spin, the excitement, the relief, and the love all mixing together in a whirlwind of happiness. Yn felt weightless in his arms, as if she were flying, her heart soaring with the freedom of the moment. Her lips parted in a soft sigh as she leaned into Wooyoung’s kiss, the warmth and tenderness of it sweeping through her like a wave. The world around them seemed to disappear—the ship, the sea, even the sky—until it was just the two of them, entwined in the embrace of their love.

Wooyoung’s hands gently cupped her face, his fingers tracing the soft curve of her cheek as he deepened the kiss. Yn melted into him, her hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders, feeling the strength and steadiness of him beneath her touch.

It was a kiss filled with everything they had fought for: freedom, love, and the hope of a future they could finally share together.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested against one another, both of them breathless and smiling, eyes locked in a silent understanding. Yn’s heart still raced, not from fear or uncertainty, but from the sheer joy of knowing that they had crossed an impossible boundary to get to this point.

"You’re mine," Wooyoung whispered, his voice a soft promise.

"And you’re mine," Yn whispered back, her heart full.

[anki-of-beleriand]

A heart Made of Glass ch. 13

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

Oh, I am back and this chapter is a wrap-up for the confrontation between Reader and Wanda. They had been given a moment of solitude before going back to their own reality, can they really get past through everyting that happened to them in the past?

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Epilogue

Chapter 13

Can we change the past?

You never imagined this ordeal would end in the way it did.

The universe you left behind came crumbling down under the weight of its own shaky foundations, it became a cold unfitting world that disappear the moment you and the others touched the land of another Universe.

Everything was kind of blurry from the on.

You knew Wanda was taken away, and soon after you were also being carried to a room in which you lost consciousness after your body finally gave up. Your mind didn’t have the time to think about what had happened or what would happen after you were completely recover. You let things happened, and in that time you gave yourself to a blissful mindfulness in which you knew, sooner or later, you would need to face everything you had been running from.

It soon became evident that time was running out, with people coming in and out of your room checking over your physical and mental well-being before asking uneasy questions. Sometimes you would evade those questions, and some others you would give vague answers that would tell the others you were no fool.

You stretched out grasping thin air in your fist, tilting your head you started making a small sequence of Tai Chi you had learnt from Yelena. After more than a week of being in the hospital, you were finally able to feel your body as yours again. Your muscles flexed, and the shadows under your feet stirred with the silent command of your thoughts. You smiled glancing at your reflection through the window, everything was working just fine and you knew you were ready to go back home.

The door behind you cracked, and the knob turned to the left revealing the single figure of Doctor Jean Grey. The woman was beautiful, and her smile was infectious always putting your mind at ease.

“Hello, Y/N, how are you this morning?”

“Doc, I’m doing better now, thank you.” You spined around slowly, the shadows wavering around until they covered your feet, your smile grew cocking your head to follow the lead of your left arm then your right one.

“I certainly felt much better now.”

“I can see that.” The woman smile stepping closer to your bed while placing a single file on the breakfast table.

“Tell me you cam here with good news.”

Jean offered a single smile while taking a seat, she sat waiting for you to settle down on the bed. The room soon filled with silence that was only broken by the busy morning routine right outside your room. You had learnt your room was in one of the busiest wings in the hospital back in the Tower. Wanda had not been that lucky, though.

“Well, I do come with news, if they are good or not depend entirely on you.” Jean could see the change in you, even through the easy smile you wore the young doctor could see you were being overly cautious.

“Okay, I’m listening.”

Doctor Jean Gray sauntered inside the room with a light blush on her cheeks. Her eyes twinkling merrily glancing at the chart in her hands before settling then on you.

For some reason, the reaction of the woman made you squirm uncomfortably. You had been in this universe for two days now, but it wasn't until now that you were forced to go inside the examination room and get yourself a quick check-up. It was quite evident that in this world mutants and superpowered individuals were treated differently, and the rules governing each one of them were set to get control on the population. 

“You seemed rather chirp today, Doc, good news for you or me?”

Jean chuckled, placing the chart on the bed before putting a chair close to the bed.

“It's my anniversary, and I received quite the news today.” She stated tilting her head, you smiled back at her.

“Congratulations, then.” 

Jean nodded, putting a strand of hair out of her face, “thank you.”

“So that would be for you, what about me?” You finally asked leaning forward, your eyes drifting to the chart in your bed.

“Everything seems to be okay.”

“But…?” You arched a brow when Jean leaned back on the chair offering a serious facade.

“You had been quite silent in the last couple of days, keeping yourself out of everyone's way and most importantly,” here Jean stopped as if measuring her words, “your avoidance of your particular predicament has raised some concerns on our end.”

Silence followed such a declaration, you dared to lock eyes with the woman sitting in front of you well-aware of her ability to read beyond your initial thoughts. Jean didn't move nor did she give any indication of breaking into small talk, I stead she seemed to sit there and wait patiently for you to speak.

“I’m not sure I want to have this conversation.” You sighed, lifting a hand to the back of your head, scratching the nape of your neck. “But I guess it is inevitable.”

“It is.” Jean softened her features, grabbing the file she left on your bed, she opened it in a single page while presenting the form to you.

“How…how is she?” Your voice was above a whisper, but it was loud enough for Jean to hear it.

The woman leaned back letting you read the file while she started talking. 

“She is doing better now, trying to recover her magical core had been quite the challenge but our own team of witches and healers had come together to help around.” 

There was nothing much you could do but nod, your eyes drifted to the file with your thoughts trying to focus on a single issue at a time. Ever since the five of you got to that universe everything had been but a blur; your Wanda was taken straight to the hospital and she had been looked after Tony's team back in the Avengers Tower. 

“That's good.”

“I just want to do one last check-up before clearing you up, America has been waiting for you and the twins are very excited as well.” Jean chuckled, standing up making her way to the closest drawer and putting some surgical gloves out. “They seemed to think that having a pair of moms at their disposal would give them some kind of advantage in their mischief.”

You tried to hide your expression from the other woman, but it was inevitable. Jean offered a sympathetic smile while getting to work. 

“They are just children…” you mumbled feeling your body warm up, your muscles twitching just as Jean started testing your reflex. “I don't think they understand that much.”

“Mm, you would be surprised how much Billy and Tommy understand about the situation.” Jean leaned back, lifting her left hand and letting it hover right on top of your forehead. “They are pretty smart, and sensitive.”

You pressed your lips together not wanting to go into a discussion. Not that you could raise any arguments against that statement, you had noticed just how sensitive they were and how smart they were. They had come that first time into your room calling you mom without a care in the world, telling you about their day while also making you aware of how they had sneaked in to see you and Wanda.

Your counterpart had been amused by your reaction, while her Wanda had been just a tad bit concerned about the confusion the whole situation could create in the children. 

“If I were to be honest, you look more confused than them.”

“You told me you don't read minds unless you have permission.” You replied furrowing your brows, Jean had the sense of looking embarrassed but never lost her smile when looking back at you.

“You kind of scream that thought at me, sometimes it is inevitable.”

Jean then leaned back, grabbing your file and writing some notes down. 

“I think you're ready to go.” Jean cocked her head when the first thing you did was jump down the bed and go to the closest chair holding your clothes. “But Wanda…”

You winced, grabbing your clothes tightly before turning around, this time around Jean was looking serious, her eyes gleaming lightly.

“What about Wanda?”

The silence grew around the both of you, your body was already tensing the muscles you would need to run. Jean opened her mouth only to close it again as if she didn't know what to say or how to say it. 

“I think you should visit her, it can make a difference in her recovery.”

At the end of the day, this last visit from Jean Grey was just that, another attempt from these people to go to Wanda and make sure she was okay. For you to stop running and face her taking ownership of what would happen next.

It was complicated.

And you were unsure as to how to proceed or what was expected of you.

“Look, I just…”

“MOM!!!!”

Not sooner had you heard such a scream, you found yourself being tackled by a pair of bouncing kids. Your heart skipped a beat with your arms lifted at your shoulders height while the kids had their faces up to look at you with toothy grins. They were quite adorable, and in reality a part of you seemed to just instantly loved them, noticing the likeness they had to Wanda and yourself.

“Okay, guys let’s back up a little, remember what we talked to you about?” 

The room was suddenly very crowded, your counterpart came right in followed by America and Pietro. It became quite apparent that everyone was waiting for Jean to finish her last check-up on you before getting into the room and see how you were doing. You placed your hands on the twin’s heads ruffling their hair playfully while offering a tentative smile. 

“That’s okay, I’m getting used to the enthusiastic greeting.”

“And them calling you mom?” Pietro inquired, quaking his brow while placing his hands in his pockets.

You couldn’t help the little wince, recoiling from the comment with your body turning to the chair and grabbing your clothes once more. Billy and Tommy glanced at one another, with Billy opening his eyes really big while making a gesture with his head. 

“Anyway, I’m just glad to know your good to go, because I was thinking we can go right ahead and get a look around and perhaps…” America started babbling making her way to your bed.

You nodded absentmindedly, your attention drifting for a moment to your counterpart and Jean that had decided to step out of the room to have a small conversation. You couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going on, and what they were discussing with your thoughts going over and over to the woman that was still unconscious somewhere inside the building. 

Everything was strange in this universe. 

A part of you knew that sooner or later the conversation of Wanda and you going back to your respective reality would come; but it was quite evident everyone was waiting for the right moment to intervene and perhaps get something done. 

“Well, I think you better change so we can get out of here,” Pietro broke your line of thoughts, his eyes gleaming mischievously with his lips curling into a familiar expression. “Billy and Tommy prepare something for you, and I bet you are dying to eat something that isn’t hospital food.”

“You are completely right on that one, I’m going to change and then…you guys can show me a good time.”

You offered a tentative smile, your heart dropping for a moment when the twins cheered babbling non-stop to America and Pietro. For a brief moment you wondered…

…was this what you were missing back home?

_______________

You had been welcomed inside the household of your counterpart. 

This time around, the guest room had been prepared and you could enjoy the joys of a soft bed and a nice view of the backyard while trying to get some sleep. The day had been quite unexpected, with the twins and America being active participants in different forms of conversations and different sets of games and rambles that you were not prepared to share with these people.

You had tried to get away from it, but Billy and Tommy were very adamant on having you close and including you in every single moment of their afternoon. You didn’t fight too hard to not be there, though. After a while you realised Wanda would not be joining the family outing and actually your counterpart ended up being just a good source of geek material that differed from the one you had in your own world. 

Not for a single moment did anyone mention the white elephant in the room.

And for that you were quite grateful.

But now, in the middle of the night with the stars twinkling above your head and everyone sleeping in the house you couldn't help but think about it. Time was running out, sooner or later you would need to go back and face the consequences of what happened back in Norway and in that other universe. 

Sooner or later you would need to face Wanda once more.

“It is pretty late for you to be thinking so loud.” 

You kept your attention on the stars, the room was completely dark which was one of the reasons as to why you knew she had come home already. The young woman took a few steps forward until she was standing beside you, her face turned to the sky with her arms hugging her tightly.

“I just couldn’t go back to sleep.” You shrugged leaning against the wall, your head tilted to the side. “It was quite an exciting day, I think I’m still in a sugar rush.”

Wanda chuckled, lowering her head, her eyes gleaming lightly, turning her attention to you.

“So I heard. The twins really took you everywhere and made sure you taste everything back in the restaurant, didn’t they?”

Your face fell when the memories of that day came back, the twins had never left your side while telling you stories about their adventures. Not for a single moment did they think or even entertained the idea of them not being part of your life in your other world. For them it had been natural to make sure that you and Wanda did not forget about them. That was one of the reasons why it had been a shock for them to find out you and they didn’t know about that restaurant.

“You should tell our other selves about this place, mom! I know they will love it!”

“Yeah, we love it, and you love bringing us here!”

It still burnt that this life was not yours, but there was nothing you could do. 

Wanda could read your thoughts; she could sense your pain and it was something she couldn’t take. Not with you. Wanda dropped her arms, stepping closer to you. Her hand felt warm on your face, brushing away your hair and mapping out the form of your jaw. It was so unexpected you couldn’t help but freeze in place the tension evident in the contraction of your muscles, your left foot stepping back and stopping waiting for the other foot to join. It didn’t happen, though, you stood there waiting for something else to happen. 

“They are good kids.” Your voice trembled at the very end of that sentence, but your eyes never waver in their hold of those green irises.

“They are. They are very much your children as much as they are mine.” Wanda offered a timid smile that soon vanished, whatever hold she had on you broke and the young woman turned around as if ready to leave. 

The tension in your body didn’t leave, and your mind was poking at you uncomfortably pressing over for you to speak. To say something, to ask the question you were dying to ask but didn’t dare to do so. It looked as if nothing else was going to be said that day, as if nothing else was going to happen and you were trying to get a hold of your beating heart when Wanda stopped by the door turning to the side and locking her eyes with yours.

“You will need to face her sooner or later, Y/N.” Wanda let her words sink in, her eyes softening lightly when she could sense the conflict inside of you. 

“Do I have to?” The question left your lips before you could stop it, Wanda lifted her shoulder stepping back. 

“I think you know the answer to that question,” she stated letting out a tired yawn, “what you really need to ask yourself, though is what would happen if that confrontation doesn’t come the way you expect it to be? What if it becomes everything you thought impossible with her? Are you ready to face that conversation? Are you ready to make a decision for you and her?”

You hated the fact this Wanda was so insightful and you hated even more that she was right. That was the real reason as to why you couldn’t sleep, as to why you were trying to bury your emotions and your memories, while also running away from what you were experimenting with. Of the changes that had come knocking on your door all those months ago.

“Have a good night, Y/N, rest and follow your instincts on this one because they…” Wanda left the sentence in the air, and it was you the one to finish it.

“They had never failed me.”

There was a flash of a smile and then Wanda left, closing the door behind her. 

___________________

But trying to follow your instincts was easier said than done.

A part of you knew the meeting was inevitable, after all, the both of you needed to go back to your respective Universe and this would never happen if you two kept on avoiding one another. But then, there was another part, the one you had been carrying with you for far too long, that was afraid of a confrontation that might broke your heart all over again.  

You played with time for as long as you could, taking advantage of Tony’s curiosity and Loki’s infinite questions. You became very helpful of Wong and Hank’s questions, and you couldn’t help but give in the twin’s whims every night before going to bed. Nevertheless, you had the days count on that universe, and it wasn’t as if you really wished to stay. You missed home, and you missed your friends and family; but the final step to get everything ready to go back was something you had never felt ready to do.

On the fifth morning you woke up on a guest room, you knew you couldn't run anymore. America had finished her breakfast and Y/N was reading the paper, no one did or said anything for a moment until you sat at the table with the coffee warming up the mug in your hands.

“Wanda is fully recovered.” Your counterpart stated, never leaving her eyes from the page she was reading, “she is confused, a little weak but ready to talk and go back home.”

“Talk?” You asked a little harsher than you were meant to.

Y/N lifted a single brow, her lips pursing tightly.

“With you.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but a kick on your leg made you stop. America was glaring at you, her head shaking slightly opening her eyes and glancing meaningfully at your counterpart.

“I know, I just…”

Y/N sighed, closing the paper and placing it slowly on the counter. Her eyes pierced you with a gaze filled with emotion, you shifted on the chair trying to look away but unable to do so.

“Whether you want it or not, you will need to have this confrontation. Whatever you are afraid of facing…I think you should get your shit together and face it right away. You are running out of time, and excuses.”

Your counterpart finished her tirade with a slap to the table, shaking her head as she stood up and left the kitchen. You cocked your head until you found America glancing at you.

“I guess there is no running from this, is it?”

America shrugged, biting her lower lip, “I guess not.”

You lowered your eyes to the counter before lifting them to ensure America was paying attention to you.

“Once this is over, are you staying or are you coming back with us?” The question caught her off of guard, America was looking shocked and her mouth tried to form a specific thought but was unable to respond right away.

You chuckled standing up, your hand on her shoulder.

“You would be more than welcome back home, but I know you missed this place greatly.” You squeezed her shoulder before walking away, a single wall of dark shadows spreading before you. “Think about it, America, I'll be back in a few hours and we will talk about me and Wanda going back home.”

“I will think about it.” America mumbled offering a half smile. “Good luck.”

You winked at her trying to show more confidence than you actually felt before crossing over the shadows and disappearing into them. The trip was short, with the shadows embracing you with a cold hold leading through the space until you stepped inside a dimly lit hall.

The place was completely silent, though you could make out the sound of chatter in the distance. You lowered your gaze to the floor, our ears twitching lightly ignoring the rest of the sounds and focusing on your heartbeat.

The last couple of months have been a complete rollercoaster for you. You never imagined, even in your wildest dreams, that Wanda would show at your doorstep with a young woman asking for help. For a very long time, you had put in the back of your mind the confrontation with Wanda. A part of you knew it would come, eventually. But you never intended to be the one to take the first step for the meeting to happen.

When you got to see Wanda face to face, and actually talk to her, your world came crumbling down around you. The barriers you had built around your heart and mind ended up not being as strong and resilient as thought them to be. Your heart still missed a beat at the sound of her laughter, and your hardened façade went away as soon as you saw the suffering and the heartbreak in those green eyes.

Wanda would always be one of your greatest weaknesses. 

And you hated yourself for that.

It was as if your own suffering didn't matter, as long as Wanda was fine and didn't have to feel what you felt. Yet you refused to believe her words or even offer forgiveness for the wrong doings in the past. All of this came crashing down in a single meeting, all the doubts and pain came back, but also the yearning and the confusion you were threatening to overwhelm you and leave you without a way out. 

You took a deep breath, your hand running through your hair helping your uneasiness. You closed for a brief moment, and your mind went blank emptying any thoughts that might come in and make you falter in your actions. The last couple of days, and actually the last couple of months, you had thought about this moment; you had given yourself and her a chance to step aside and let the past in the past and for the both of you ready to face the present without thinking too much about the future.

The room was in complete darkness, the lights were out and the curtains were still closed. You could hear the monitor in the corner, the bed occupied the left side of the room leaving a big sofa and a couple of chairs on the right. Hanging from the wall you could see the TV that was huge enough to almost cover the wall, the only thing that prevented this from happening was the side door leading to the bathroom. Tony was really into luxury, you closed the door behind you a little unsure on how to proceed.

The tension around the room only increased when you felt a pair of eyes on you. It didn't take too long for you to know who it was, you stepped forward making your way to the curtains. 

“Would you mind if I open them up? I prefer the natural light of the day instead of the artificial ones.” You turned lightly, finally locking your eyes with those of Wanda.

Your Wanda.

“That's fine.” She replied, her voice was but a whisper but you could get the strong laced tone that Scarlet used whenever she talked to you.

The room changed under the light of the day, while there was not much sun the sky was cloudless and the position of the tower as well as the floor you two were currently in allowed for the perfect setting for natural light. You glanced around a city that was familiar yet strange, the weight of that stare didn't leave you, not even when you finally turned around to lock eyes with her.

“You look fine.” Wanda lowered her chin, her fingers twitching on top of the bed wanting to do or say something else but unsure where her relationship with you stood at the moment.

“I wasn't that badly injured, but I think I did need the rest.” You took a step forward, then another until you were actually standing beside Wanda.

Wanda hesitated for a moment before moving to the left, she chewed on her lower lip before patting the spot on the bed.

“You can sit here, if … if you want, there is also a chair and…” whatever else Wanda was going to say was cut off by you taking her initial offer of sitting on the bed.

Wanda felt her heart do somersaults, her body tingling at your closeness and the little voice she had come to recognize as Scarlet’s whispering to her telling her to close the distance, to grab your hand, to not let you go. But she held back knowing that her position was precarious at best and whatever you had come to discuss with her needed to be addressed first. 

“How are you?” You fixed your position on the bed, well aware that the only thing you needed was to lower your arm and your hand would be touching Wanda's one. 

“I'm better now, a little sore and getting use to…” here Wanda trailed off with her brows creasing a little, “to be complete, I guess. It's difficult, but I think I am ready.”

Her words held a decisive tone, but her eyes were flashing the doubts running inside her mind. You realised right there and then that nothing much had changed in the last couple of years, there were things you could still read about her. 

“Ready for what?” You asked quietly, Wanda sighed shrugging.

“Going back.” She replied simply. “Getting out of your way, out of your life…I did promise you after all of this was over I wouldn't bother you any more…”

Her words stung your heart, spreading an electrifying pain all through your body until it hit your brain. You didn't understand why, exactly. That had been the deal, to help her out and then get her out of your life. Then, if you knew what was going to happen, how it would end, why were you having these doubts? Why did it hurt?

Wanda was in her own thoughts, a part of her she had tried to suppress, the one she tried to deny stirred in anger. Wanda wanted to speak out, to tell you she didn't want to go and that she certainly didn't want to pretend nothing had happened in the last couple of months. That seeing you had been one of her greatest joys in life, but it had also brought pain and sadness, that being in this universe seeing the twins and facing what could have been…

Without really noticing, tears started falling rolling down her cheeks while her heart shrank with the weight of her emotions. Wanda refused to give in, her fists closing tightly and her tears breaking her composure and without really wanting to she finally broke in front of you.

You observed the full process, the way her face changed and the tears pilling up her eyes. Wanda was trying to bottle up whatever she was feeling, whatever she was thinking. It was so easy to ignore everything the other woman was experiencing; it was easy to hold onto your shared past. 

But this was Wanda.

And you couldn't ignore her. That was the reason why you had to disappear after the breakup.

With a tentative touch, you let your hand fall on top of hers. Your thumb drew circles before leaning in and wrapping her in a hug. Wanda held onto you, her sobs filling the room while her hands tried to grasp your clothes. You didn't say anything, but for some reason you could feel it.

The apology you never allowed her to share with you. The broken heart she had been wearing ever since that day. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry…”

Wanda cried and once she started she couldn't stop. Fixing your position on the bed you made sure she was comfortably resting her weight on your left side, putting comforting arms around her while soothing her body with sweet caresses you had dared to make in anyone but her.

Whatever conversation you were meant to have with her, whatever it was you had come to talk to her about soon crumbled under the pressure of her tears and your own feelings for her. 

And just like that, you knew you couldn't let her go.

Not without a real conversation.

And not without a fight.

______________________

Wanda was not completely sure when she fell asleep, but right now she was completely aware of being awake resting on top of you with the warmth and comfort of your presence soothing her soul.

Her body tensed right away, though soon she relaxed into the embrace having noticed your even breathing and the relaxed posture of your body. You had fallen asleep as well and, at some point the both of you had ended up sharing the small hospital bed without anyone coming over to interrupt that moment.

Wanda nuzzled her face against your neck, she wished this was something she would share with you every day. How she had missed waking up in your arms, to see your smile in the mornings and your hyperactive body demand for the morning routine. Everything was so messed up, and she didn't know when she allowed her world to crumble into nothingness.

Her heart trembled with emotion, and her thoughts formed an idea Wanda knew was not completely hers but a figment of Scarlet. 

You have to fight back! You need to get her back! You need to tell her everything we discovered! Everything we know!

Her voice was demanding, yet it held a hint of desperation that Wanda was familiar with. It was the same voice she had woken up to back in the battlefield after the snap, the same one she had heard countless of times whenever she thought about you or a way to recover her life. Everything had been so complicated, yet it could had been so easy to recover her life to actually try to make a change and reconcile with everyone.

There were no more tears in her eyes, and the sadness and sorrow she had lived with all her life was a burden she was tired to carry with her. With some reluctance, Wanda let go of you stirring in the bed while trying to be careful in her movements, she missed your closeness and the warm that your body had provided but it was time for her to stand up.

You need to fight for her, you cannot lose her. Not again.

The voice echoed inside her head, and Wanda knew this time around she couldn’t allow her fears to stop her from at least getting a chance to be your friend. With that thought in mind, Wanda stood on weakened feet gathering her strength before walking towards the closes wardrobe and grabbing some clothes. She gave you one last glance before making her way to the bathroom, she would need to get ready for what would come next.

It was the cold what wake you up.

The cold and the fact you missed the weight of someone resting on your left side, you sighed blinking owlishly while patting the side of the bed where you were pretty sure your companion had been resting. In those glorious moments between being awake and asleep, you were trying to grasp the reality of the woman you had been holding. Your memory groggily moving through the smell of her shampoo, and the softness of her skin and then…

You remembered.

Wanda had been crying, you had held her, you had fallen asleep…

You stood up so fast that you fell of the bed hitting your head against the night table, while hitting your ass on the ground.

“Ugh, fuck…”

“Are you…are you alright? What…did you fall off the bed?”

You wished you could hide, but instead of that you lifted your face to see Wanda standing by the bed trying to hold back her laughter just as her eyes gleamed with worry. You could sense the blush forming on your cheeks, while your whole body seemed to protest under the pain of the hits you got when falling.

“I…yes, I just…woke up too fast and…I fell off the bed.”

That was all that Wanda needed to start laughing, she couldn’t help herself. She had seen you woke up and then lose all control while getting your feet entangled on the sheets and falling on your ass. It had been funny, and the fact that you now looked all embarrassed and were pouting made for the scene not only something funny but quite adorable.

You huffed trying to stand up, rolling your eyes while the other woman held against the bed trying to control her laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, little witch…” the nickname slipped your lips without giving it a second thought. That made the laughter died and once more the room was filled with a tension neither one of you were ready to maintain.

“I’m sorry it’s just…your face, and the way you fell, so full of grace…”

“I bet.” You rolled your eyes trying to check your head and body before settling your eyes on Wanda.

The young woman had put on some jeans and a white blouse, while her hair was still wet after the bath. You furrowed your brows looking away while catching the time on the clock on the wall. It was almost midday, which would explain why you were so hungry all of a sudden.

“I guess you really are feeling better.”

Wanda bounced lightly checking her hands and body, she wouldn’t say she felt better but she certainly was tired of being in bed while letting everyone come in and out to check her over. This world had a peculiar way to treat people with powers and having so many people with magical abilities come in and check her magical core had been extenuating and rather uncomfortable. The only time she had felt at ease had been with her counterpart, and that had been a whole different situation.

“I just need to get out of here.” Wanda finally revealed offering a half smile, “I heard from one of the nurses they have a nice restaurant right across the street, it has sandwiches and pizza…perhaps…”

You blinked a couple of times at the suggestion, your hand went right away to your pocket and your wallet. You hope the money you carried with you had some sort of value on this place, with a shrugged you nodded your agreement.

“Sounds like a plan. Lead the way, then.”

Wanda couldn’t hide her smile at the acceptance, she turned around and grabbing a jacket dragged you out of the room making her way directly to the elevator at the end of the hall. None of them noticed the camera watching their every move or the shadowy figure hidden in a close-by room. Your counterpart smirked shaking her head, she owed her wife a nice dinner. Wanda had always been right. Always.

In the security room, Wanda Maximoff allowed a tiny smile on her face, she lifted her stare to Tony and Loki, both of them shook their heads still slightly confused about the interaction.

“Now, what?” Tony finally asked staring at Wanda then at Loki.

“Now, we wait.” Loki replied waving away his hand. “For now, I think they are right, I’m starving and you ought to feed us, Stark.”

“Why is it always my responsibility?”

“You’re the one with money.” Loki replied ignoring the indignant huff coming from the older man, and the amused chuckled from Wanda.

_________________________

The restaurant was almost empty.

There were a few empty tables in the back, the one you chose was perfect for a nice conversation by hiding you two away from imprudent ears. The place was cosy, with decorations of blue and green creating a magical atmosphere with the dim lights around the establishment and the sweet aroma of spices that made you remembered home. You sat down facing Wanda who was looking troubled at the moment.

The waitress dedicated you a timid smile while putting a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Welcome to the Sandwich Emporium, what can I get you today?” Her question was directed at you, and her eyes never even bothered to look away as you grabbed the menu she was offering.

“I’m not sure, what do you recommend?” You glanced at the menu then back at Wanda, the redhead was glaring at the menu pursing her lips lightly while you merely frowned.

“Well, that depends on what are you looking for,” her tone of voice didn’t leave anything to the imagination, and you couldn’t help but raise a single eyebrow at that. The young woman opened her eyes wide blushing profusely. “I mean…I…”

“She is having La Tricolore and I’m having La Tartuffo.” Wanda point two pictures on the menu, before handing it over to the waitress, her eyes gleaming strangely while you just blinked slightly confused. “And I’m having some water, and she is having a cappuccino.”

“Very well, I’ll be right back.” The young woman left rather quickly, her ears burning red after having come across the redhead.

You had your eyebrows raised glancing over at Wanda who was trying rally hard to ignore you. After a moment she finally let out a heavy sigh, her head turned away from you.

“La Tricolore has beef, cheese, some hazelnuts, and that pistachio cream you…” here Wanda trailed off opening her eyes when she realized what she had done. “I’m sorry, I…”

“I like it, sounds delicious.” You placed your hands on the table not really bothered by what had happened but rather confused. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“I never forget.” Wanda brushed her hair away lifting her face to finally lock her eyes with yours. “I always…remember, Y/N.”

“I remembered too, Wanda. I remembered everything.” You stated but whatever anger you had held it had given way to bitterness and sadness.

Wanda winced tapping on the table before wiggling her hands together.

“I…I never got to…” She tilted her head, and you could see the tears hidden behind those green eyes. “I’m sorry.”

It didn’t even cover what had happened, all the pain she had caused on that day. But those words made your soul tremble, you scoffed shaking your head leaning back on the seat.

“It is too late, don’t you think?” You could see your words hurt her, and everything you had lived up to that point came rushing in piling up inside your mind until you just put everything away and left what was important.

Wanda nodded defeated, “I know, I just…I never got to say it to you.”

But it wasn’t about asking for forgiveness, and you knew that. And Wanda was also well aware of the fact. The question was not about forgiveness, the question was if you could move forward after everything that had happened.

“I never got to say it, I messed up. I was so afraid, I just…I didn’t know what to do, how to react, how to…deal with everything.”

Wanda spoke with a clear desperation tinge in her words, you could see the crumbling behind her eyes, how her soul would tremble while trying to tell you everything that you didn’t want to hear ten years ago.

“Vision was convenient.” Wanda said, this time around she grabbed the seat tightly her body completely tensed making her neck hurt as she forced herself to keep her head up and look at you. “I was so afraid, so lost and…and It’s not an excuse! I deserve your hatred! I deserved your anger! I just…”

“You could have told me, you know?” You finally said when it was obvious Wanda couldn’t continue talking. “I was there for you, and I could have helped. I thought you trusted me but instead of telling me whatever was happening you…”

This was not the conversation the both of you were supposed to have, or at least it wasn’t supposed to be this way. You weren’t supposed to understand, but to stand your ground and tell Wanda how much of a bitch she had been. But the last couple of days had taught you something about yourself, about Wanda and what could have been. And if Wanda was confused you weren’t fairing any better.

“I know you don’t get it, and that’s okay because you grew with Natasha and then you have Fury and Maria and Yelena…” Wanda waved her hand weakly, her tears rolling down while her eyes revealed the deep sadness she had always carried with herself.

“I lost everything, and I didn’t know how to deal…and you were strong, and brave, you were not afraid of anything and I was only me.” Wanda broke into a sob, with a crooked smile that showed you just how broken she was. How lost she was still feeling.

“I…after it happened I never…” Wanda started but couldn’t finish, you perked up at her words because this was something you hadn’t bothered to find out.

“What happened after I left? Were you happy? Did he make you happy?” You didn’t mean to sound so bitter, but your words carry with them poison that you had been holding for far too long.

“I didn’t stay with him, Y/N. I tried to look for you, to reach out for you but…but I couldn’t and I didn’t stay with Vision, I didn’t feel anything I just… I messed up! Okay? That’s what I did, and I didn’t know how to make it better and I’ve been trying to be good to make it better all these years…”

You wouldn't know about that.

Just as she was trying to do some good, you were trying to forget. It was one of the reasons why you kept yourself out of everyone's business and dealt with the superhero work alone. When Tony and Steve got into that quarrel and you saw what happened back in Lagos you knew you had made the right decision. Then, everything became more complicated and you just busy yourself with other problems, always trying to keep the team away while trying to get glimpses of news about Wanda. You knew it had been hard for her, and you also knew she was never alone.

Vision.

That had always been the main issue, wasn't it?

“I was on the run with the others, but I just wanted to disappear. Vision…he was helping me with getting a new identity.” Wanda leaned back tilting her head to the wall to hide the tears rolling down her cheek.

It was an answer to an unasked question. The conversation died for a moment, the waitress eyed Wanda before offering a smile to you placing the different orders on the table.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

“Well, if there is anything I can do, I'm Anne.” The waitress offered one last smile walking backwards and then leaving you two alone.

The food smelled delicious; you grabbed your sandwich allowing Wanda the moment of privacy. The silence grew heavier just as you distracted yourself glancing around the place while taking another bite from your lunch.  

“I was just trying to live my life, and then when Thanos happened…” Wanda huffed turning to her food, she was no longer hungry if anything she wanted to disappear. 

Everything seemed so pointless, the look in your eyes would never leave, and she would go back to a world in which she was despised by the only woman she had ever been in love with.

“This is really delicious; you should try it.” You interrupted her, offering a full smile while grabbing another bite.

Wanda blinked confused; she kept her eyes on you then back on her food. For a brief moment, she hesitated, she was no longer hungry and if she were to be honest she felt tired. You took a sip from your cappuccino, placing your hand on the table, dangerously close to hers.

“I know you are hungry, Wanda. And I also know…I didn't want to know, but I get it.” You passed your hand on your hair pressing your back on the seat. “I'm tired of this, I just…”

“I can't take it when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?” You crunched up your nose, Wanda lowered her eyes grabbing her food.

“As if I am nothing to you, as if you…you hate me and…”

She trailed off putting the food in her mouth and silencing her words. You frowned, pursing your lips while playing those words inside your head. 

“I don't hate you.” You softened your features, your eyes glistening under the weight of memories. “I could never hate you.”

Silence followed your statement, the shivering discomfort of what your words could mean infused the atmosphere with questions Wanda didn't dare to ask. You lowered your gaze and focused completely on the sandwich that was still on the plate, and for a good half hour that was all you and Wanda did. 

When there was nothing else coming in between the unfinished conversation, Wanda put her hands on the table her eyes down casted. This was actually the very first time the both of you came face to face without anyone or anything coming in between. It was a confrontation you never thought would happen about something you had always imagined. It always came with different scenarios, but the outcome had always been the same. With you finally finding peace and never looking back, and with Wanda filled with regret for what she had lost.

This conversation though was completely different. You lifted your face finding those green eyes staring back at you with longing and a deep sadness that had become characteristic of Wanda. 

“How did you end up in Westview?” The question rolled out of your lips with a hint of bitterness you could not hide.

Wanda winced playing the napkin on the table, you waited until the woman started talking again.

“I found the box you hid in your room back at the Avenger's compound.” She stated simply, her lips breaking into a grimace. “I never…after you left I never went back there until after the battle with Thanos and Steve’s funeral.”

Your eyes opened lightly in realisation; you remembered the box in which you had hidden the future you hoped to share with Wanda. The ring, the map, and the picture…everything made sense now; now you understood why Wanda had chosen that place and how everything had fit at one point or another. The only thing that was out of place had been Vision, your expression hardened and Wanda could tell you were thinking about Westview the life she had created there.

“I never thought of him, you know? I went there because I wanted to…” Wanda snorted lifting her face to the ceiling, her voice trembling under the weight of the memories. “I wanted to understand, and in a way, I wanted to find a way to go back to you. Not as…I mean, I wanted to at least be…be your friend.”

You shifted on the chair hearing as Wanda finally tell you her part of the story, how she had been completely alone after coming back from the Blip. Steve’s funeral showed her just how alone she was, and how lost she really felt; she didn’t have a work or a home or even family and friends. She spent her time driving around until she decided to ask for help and went to the only person she could think of: Tony.

In all this time you could see the story behind her eyes, you could read the suffering and the deep sadness in the gestures and the words that carried with them the flashbacks of those days in which you were ignorant of Wanda’s fate.

“I went there to punish myself.” Wanda broke into a bitter smile, “I guess I did a good job.”

“Wanda…” You started but the words tangled in your throat, the other woman waited expectantly but after a moment her face fell.

“You don’t have to…”

“You don’t have to punish yourself anymore.” You frowned lowering your gaze to the empty dishes on the table, you were fully aware of her eyes on you. “All this time, isolating yourself while unable to reach out to anyone…then, finding yourself in Westview with this Agatha…”

Wanda swallowed down her tears, she was trembling with a flame of hope flickering inside her heart. Wanda knew she had created the world around Westview, she knew that her isolation and her grief had broken out into an explosion of her magic to create a reality she could deal with. But she also knew her magic had been tampered with, and her illusion had been corrupted.

“I never stopped thinking about you.” She whispered with her hands grabbing the chair tightly, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

You nodded standing up while making your way to where she was sitting, you offered your hand though your face never changed. For a brief moment, Wanda hesitated, she glanced at your hand and then with a trembling hand accepted it.

“They do look like us, you know?” You stated flatly, your hand warm against hers.

Wanda furrowed her brows, her tears rolling down her cheeks but her eyes gleaming in confusion.

“Why?”

“Billy and Tommy.” You stated simply. “They do look like us.”

_______________________________________

That night you sat right outside the house.

Music and conversation could be heard in the backyard, with the lights of the kitchen projecting shadows on the grass. The sky above hour head was still showered with white dots that resulted familiar yet so different to what you were used to; the air was cold but nothing you couldn’t take in a night like that one.

You took a deep breath filling your lungs with cold air, inside your mind thoughts came crashing down into a myriad of possibilities and plans yet to be executed. The conversation with Wanda had gone unexpectedly well, yet you knew a lot of things needed to be done and said before things would be okay.

“Aren’t you a little cold out here?” America crunched up her nose trying to balance the two glasses she was carrying with her.

You turned to her, chuckling before stretching a little to help her out.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a part of this great celebration?”

America shrugged offering a tiny smile, “the twins are distracted with Wanda, both of them, and the rest is just chattering around.”

“So you decided to come to me?” You shook your head taking a sip from the beverage the young woman had brought with her. “You’re crazy.”

“Not as crazy as you are.” America wrapped her hands around the glass eyeing you out of the corner of her eyes. “How are you?”

“I guess I’m okay, how about you?” You pointed with your head to the house behind you, “this is what you missed, isn’t it? Now that you are back, well…”

America nodded turning her body to yours, “I feel happy, but I also feel lost. I know that I found them again, and I have so many possibilities right now, I just…”

 “Don’t know what to do?” You asked, America shrugged lowering her eyes.

“I’m finally starting to understand my powers and to get some control over them, if I keep working on them I would be able to travel without getting lost.” America let out a sigh dropping her shoulders, “those are a lot of possibilities and right now I think I need stability and keep learning.”

“Wise words, you have grown some, kiddo.” You bumped against her shoulder; the young woman blushed lightly offering a timid smile. “It may take time, but I’m pretty sure you will learn to control them.”

None of you mentioned the possibility of America finding her way back home, while it was an option it didn’t mean that America would find it once she had some control on her abilities. But for now, the young woman was happy to learn more about her powers and herself, her heart and soul finally finding a place she could call home.

“You don’t mind me coming back with you and Wanda?” America finally asked biting her lower lip while taking the last sip of her drink to her lips.

“No, I think it’s going to be fun.” You replied glancing at the young woman, “but I have to tell you right now, the training is going to be brutal.”

“I didn’t expect anything else.”

You chuckled nodding, “good.”

America straightened up tilting her head to glance at you then back at the house. You knew what the question was she wanted to ask, but you didn’t rush it.

“Are you and Wanda going to be okay?”

“I don’t know.” The honesty with which you answered that surprised even you, you turned to America with a serious face. “I’m not sure what would happen, America, but I guess I’m willing to find out.”

“That’s good, right?”

You shrugged, and the young woman went back to rest her head on your shoulder still highly confused by your answer. The sound of laughter, music and conversation filling out the sudden silence that embrace the both of you, your thoughts coming back to Wanda and the day you had spent with her.

Only time would tell what would happen next, and you were waiting anxiously what would happen next.

_______________________________

Billy and Tommy were talking non-stop, they were excited showing Wanda the latest project they had been working on back at school. The young woman could hardly hold her tears while letting her children talk to her about school and their lives as if she had always been there.

At first, it had hurt.

Wanda knew they were not hers, and yet she couldn’t help but love them and see them with the same eyes she had seen the twins back in her universe. A part of her never thought she would see Billy and Tommy again, the moment the illusion had fallen around her and she discovered what she had done to Westview she knew there wouldn’t be a way for her to recover her children.

Yet here they were.

 In another world, in another universe looking the same as she had imagined them once.

This time around everything was as it was supposed to be, with you by her side raising two children being a happy family.  A part of Wanda felt envy for everything her counterpart had and she couldn’t have.

“Are you sure you can’t have a family of your own?”

Wanda huffed turning to the source of the voice, her counterpart stood right beside her with softened eyes staring at the twins that were getting ready for bed. Wanda dropped her arms to her sides, her eyes glancing back into the room then back to the woman standing beside her.

“I’m pretty sure, she…” Wanda wrapped her arms around herself furrowing her brows, “she doesn’t love me anymore. I am nothing more than…and ally, and even that would be to stretch out our relationship.”

The other Wanda pursed her lips, she stepped closer never letting go of those green eyes she was so familiar with.

“You don’t believe that.” Wanda stated holding back a smile when the other woman stepped back scowling.

“I have to believe it, I can’t…” Wanda sighed lifting her chin to the ceiling holding back her weakness, she didn’t want the twins to see her cry. “I have to believe it or I will break my heart once more and I can’t lose control of my magic, I…last time it didn’t go well.”

The room filled with laughter, Billy ran to the bed jumping up and down with Tommy trying to follow up before falling down on his face. Wanda couldn’t help but gasp ready to help out but stopping when a gentle hand wrapped tenderly on her forearm. It was strange to see herself staring at her looking the same yet being so different than she was.

The twins were back in the game, falling on bed while discussing some subject Wanda couldn’t hear pretty well. The fall was soon forgotten and both of them were ready to go to sleep.

“Go on, you can put them to be and I will wait for you here.”

“Thank you.” Wanda whispered to her counterpart entering the room and going to Billy first.

The woman offered a shaky smile, her trembling hand brushing away his dark hair while her lips curved into a smile. Billy smiled back blinking slowly.

“Are you okay, mom?”

Wanda nodded leaning in placing a single kiss on his forehead, “more than okay, Billy. Have a good night, baby.”

“Good night, mommy.”

Then, Wanda went to Tommy who was looking at her differently, he wrapped his arms around her hugging her tightly and this time around she couldn’t help but cry.

“I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, Tommy, now go to sleep.” Once more she placed a kiss on Tommy’s forehead and with that she stepped back walking towards the door. “Sleep well, guys.”

“Night, mom!”

The door close behind her, and Wanda stood there allowing herself the goodbye she had longed to have with the twins. She tried to give the right closure to her emotions knowing full well she would go back a world in which she would be all alone. No twins, no Y/N, only her.

“Thank you.” Wanda whispered locking her eyes with those of her counterpart, the other woman nodded curtly.

“I knew it was important for you.” The woman hesitated for a moment before continuing, “but you shouldn’t lose any hope, Wanda. You and Y/N…”

“Don’t, please.” Wanda said softly. “Don’t give me hope, don’t tell me it is possible because…god, I’ve been breaking my heart over and over again and I just…I can’t take it anymore.”

“Then don’t let it go, don’t let it go without a fight.”

Wanda lifted her face to see her counterpart dead serious, the woman came closer wrapping her hands on her forearms making sure Wanda could not look away.

“You love her, and I am pretty sure she loves you as well, whatever happened in the past it shall stay there.” Wanda then softened letting go of her grip. “Don’t give up just yet, you may be surprised.”

Wanda wanted to talk, she wanted to believe but at the moment she was just tired and overwhelmed by everything that had happened, everything she had lived up to that point. She was overwhelmed by the fact that you were so close to her yet so far away, that she would go back to a world in which the twins were not there and she would be, once more, alone.

________________________________________

It was a sunny day.

America went over the contents of her backpack, her body was tingling all over while a void filled with butterflies settled in her lower abdomen. She closed her eyes taking a deep breath, her hands trembling while she secured the zipper on the backpack.

“You look nervous, you know you don’t have to go, right?” Y/N came into the room glancing around before settling her eyes on America, the young woman turned around offering a tiny smile.

“I know.” She replied shrugging, her hands played with the band on her wrist she tried to look everywhere but at Y/N but at the end of the day she couldn’t help it, she lifted her face and let the tears fall down.

“I’m sorry.” America whispered waiting for a recrimination on her part, for Y/N to finally tell her how bad she had messed up the first time she had fallen on their Universe.

But it never came, nor from her or Wanda, or anyone for that matter. America surrendered to the warm embrace of Y/N’s arms, she let the tears and sobs she had been holding to scape and finally liberated her mind of the guiltiness she had been feeling all this time.

“Hey, kiddo, it’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.” Y/N whispered soothingly her hand drawing circles with a half-smile showing on her face.

“I just…I shouldn’t have run the way I did, I should have fight or something.” America replied, leaning back, she was furrowing her brows while lifting her hands. “I could have stayed and helped around.”

“It wasn’t optional, though. You had to keep going to survive, that’s rule number one in this line of work, America.” Y/N put her hands on her pockets, her hair falling to the side with an easy smile adorning her lips. “You did what you have to at that point and no one should ever blame you for that. If it hadn’t been that way well, I wouldn’t be here telling the story.”

America doubted very much that it would have happened in such a way, but she would never really know it for certain. Ever since she started travelling through universes consciously she had learnt to deal with the different realities, trying to adapt to them and survive them. She never thought she would settle in a single universe, much less that she would get attach to the people in it.

The sound of conversation broke the sudden silence in the room, the twins laughing with Pietro and Wanda yelling for everyone to go to the backyard was the signal America had been waiting for. She stepped closer to give Y/N one last hug.

“Thank you for everything you did for me, Y/N. I couldn’t say this the last time due to the circumstances…”

“Us running for our lives?” Y/N chimed in chuckling, America snorted rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, that, I mean you guys received me in your home and gave me a chance to a family, I just..I will always carry that with me.”

Y/N softened while giving the teen another hug, “anytime kid, you are welcome in our household whenever you decided to come back.”

“I know, I just think I am needed it elsewhere.”

“I think so to.” Y/N stepped back glancing to the open door. “Watch over them, make sure that they are okay.”

“I will.” America smiled grabbing her backpack ready to go.

It was almost midday by the time America and Y/n came out of the house.

The backyard was full with Tony and Loki working around the logistics and the twins just running around between the two Wanda’s and everyone else. You stood by the garden, the conversation that Loki was having with Tony, Wong, Hank and America had lost all meaning as you entertained yourself with the last sight of the world that could have been. Your body was completely tensed, your eyes drifting around until they fell on the form of Wanda, your Wanda.

“Are you ready?” Y/N asked, you turned to her shaking your head.

“Were you?”

“No, I was never ready whenever she was around.” Y/N replied shrugging, “but once we had made our mind there was nothing that could stop us.”

You snorted nodding, “that’s right.”

“Are you going to fight?” Y/N stepped closer, her eyes going from you to Wanda then back again.

“I am going to make things right, I’m not sure if they will end up the same way it did here.” You replied placing your hands inside your pockets. “I guess only time will tell.”

Y/N nodded stretching her right hand to you, an easy smile forming on her lips.

“I hope everything goes well for you and Wanda, Y/N, just remember what’s really important.” Y/N said grabbing your hand with a friendly squeezed. “Please, be happy.”

“Protect them and be for them whenever they need you.” You replied squeezing back.

“I will.”

“Well, I guess we can try the portal once more, are you guys ready? Did you say your good-byes?” Tony clapped before rubbing his hands, everyone went to get in position until the cries of two boys reached them over.

Tommy and Billy came running with Wanda following them close behind, Billy went directly to Wanda wrapping his arms around her while Tommy went to you.

“I’m gonna miss you.” He mumbled looking up at you.

You chuckled ruffling his hair playfully, “I doubt it, pal. You have your mom’s here, but I am gonna miss you.”

“Say hi to your Tommy for me, please? Tell him he has the best mom in the whole universe!”

Those words pierced deeply inside your heart, but the innocence and the smile in Tommy’s face made you held back any reaction that wasn’t one of agreement.

“I will, Tommy, be good.”

At the other side of the yard Wanda and Billy were having a similar conversation, Wanda hugged him tightly before trying to let go. Billy called to her, looking around before wrapping his arms around Wanda’s neck, his lips close to her ear.

“Everything is gonna be okay, mommy, don’t worry, mom will come around.” Billy offered a toothy grin to Wanda who was too shocked to talk. “say hi to your billy for me, love you mom!”

Wanda watched as Billy joined his brother right beside their mother, Wanda locked eyes with her counterpart who offered a half smile and a vision Wanda Maximoff would not talk about until several years later. For now, she was just filled with doubts, and hopes, and uncertainties and soon Wanda was drowned by the voices surrounding her.

“Okay, this shouldn’t be that difficult, everyone remembers their roles?” Loki asked once more standing to the side while pointing at America who rolled her eyes.

“I do, I remember.”

“Good, because if you fail the three of you are going to be traveling around without a proper destination and probably die a horrible dead.”

“That’s so comforting, Loki.” You replied rolling your eyes. 2Stop scaring America and do your job.”

Loki rolled his eyes flickering his hands while putting the golden book out of thin air, he sat down crossing his legs while looking to an invisible spot in front of him.

“Very well, your timeline is not that hard to find, it is the only one with a latent anomaly.”

“How can you tell is ours and not a random one?”

Loki glared at you before going back to his work, “I can sense it, and this one lack something, it is missing something, I guess that would be both of you.”

Soon everyone was taking positions, Wanda stood beside you shifting from one foot to the other, her hands wiggling nervously while she tried to keep her eyes right ahead of herself. You could sense her uneasiness, her hands twitching biting her lower lip. America came forward, she was showing off a frown filled with confusion that Tony helped erased with a whispered explanation.

You eyed Wanda out of the corner of your eyes, the woman was completely tensed still bouncing trying to hold onto something but unable to find herself at ease. You doubted it for a moment before you grabbed her hand in yours.

Her hand was warm and soft, at first she was completely tensed and rigid but as soon as she sensed it was you her hand started to relax and give in the feeling.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You whispered; Wanda offered a smile nodding.

“I know.” Wanda knew that as long as you kept holding her hand everything would be okay, she didn’t dare to say anything else but in a bold move she spread her fingers and soon her hand was intertwined with yours.

You jerked around but Wanda was completely focused on America, after a moment of hesitation you straightened up frowning lightly though your hand clasped tenderly Wanda’s hand.

“Okay, it was nice meeting you all, now let’s begin.” Loki closed his eyes and soon the golden light of his magic started gleaming powerfully forming a tight circle that surrounded you and Wanda alongside America.

America could feel the power, she was sensing it through her muscles and her fingertips while her mind became a mask of pure blankness trying to form an idea. She remembered the lesson, to follow the magic around her while also joining her energy with that of Wanda and Y/N, her power running through her arm in electric jolts and then igniting her eyes until she was finally ready to make it explode.

Pulling her arm back, closing her fist America stretched her arm hitting the space in between her and the backyard creating an explosion in the form of a Star. The portal opened until it was as big as America, you peeked in watching the white plains of Norway, or at least that was what you thought.

With a last glance to your counterpart and Wanda, you squeezed the hand you were holding tenderly.

“Ready?” It was all you could say before the young woman nodded and with a single step she dragged you right through the portal.

The world you three had left behind was waiting for you.

And you were not sure what would happen next, the only thing you knew for certain was that you didn’t want to let go of the hand holding yours.

The portal closed behind the three of you leaving everyone behind with many questions and little to no answers.

Billy and Tommy hugged Wanda still glancing the place where the portal had been moments ago. The woman glanced at her children knowing there was something bothering greatly.

“Mommy, do you think they will love us?” Tommy asked lifting his face to Wanda, Wanda furrowed her brows tilting her head.

“What do you mean, baby?”

Billy scrunched up his nose, “You think they will love Billy and Tommy the way you love us?”

Wanda softened at the question; she knelt in front of her boys not really knowing how to explain that in their world they both didn’t even exist.

“Billy, I’m pretty sure that they would be very lucky to have children like the both of you, and they would absolutely love you very much.” This answer seemed to satisfy the boys, and just when Wanda thought the topic was over Tommy talked again.

“They are gonna love us very much, mommy.” Tommy smiled snugging closer to Wanda. “Just like they love one another very much, that’s how you and mommy made us, right?”

Wanda didn’t answer, but a part of her certainly hope that Tommy was not wrong. She had always hoped that her love for you would survive in every universe, Wanda lifted her face to see Y/N looking at her with tenderness and love, and Wanda knew right there and then that her counterpart would be okay.

You never stopped looking at her like that, you just learnt how to hide it pretty well.

You were still pretty much in love with your Wanda.

And now that you were gone with her, only time would tell if love was still possible.

Wanda sighed wishing you would let go of your resentment and doubts and give yourself and her counterpart a chance.

With a last glance to the space where you and the others had been standing, Wanda turned around hopeful that the past would stay in the past.

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

Next Chapter: You are finally back to your universe, everything seems surreal as you and the others are taken to interrogation rooms before resuming your normal lives. Carol doesn't want to leave your side, and Wanda knows she needs to step aside even though that's the last thing she wants to do.

[baelarys]

𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖗

cregan stark x reader velaryon

Word count:2277

Warninig:Spontaneous abortion,angust.

You hated this place. Even when wrapped in countless layers and furs, the cold always found a way to seep through to you. It was a cold that not only chilled the bones but also the spirit, reminding you of how foreign you felt in this inhospitable land.

From the start, you had considered this marriage unnecessary. Lord Stark would have supported your mother’s cause without the need to wed you. At least, that’s what you believed. The Starks always honored their promises, or so you had heard in Dragonstone. You arrived in Winterfell with your brother Jacaerys, thinking it would be just another visit. However, that same night, before his return, the plans changed: your marriage to the Lord of the North was sealed, unexpectedly.

Fear consumed you. You didn’t want to marry, and certainly not him. The Lord of Winterfell was as cold as the landscape that surrounded him, distant and reserved. Although you now bore the title of Lady of this house, you knew that to the people of the North, you remained an outsider, someone who neither shared their blood nor their customs. The looks they gave you were not of respect but of mistrust.

You wondered if you could ever come to consider this place your home, but every gust of icy wind that struck the stone towers reminded you that you did not belong to this realm of shadows and ice. The Stark promises of loyalty may have been steadfast, but their hearts were as cold and distant as the winters that ruled these lands.

However, not everything was so bleak. Despite the discomfort of your new surroundings, you were far from the war and the conflicts that divided your family. In Winterfell, the echo of battles and internal struggles was silenced by the vast expanse of snow and mountains. Here, in the solitude of this fortress, you found a strange peace, a temporary respite from the intrigues that had always marked your life.

You walked from the courtyard, leaving behind the cold, gray walls, toward the gates of the fortress. Your feet sank into the snow, soft and frosted, as the wind swirled small flakes around you. In the distance, you spotted the imposing silhouette of your dragon, Sunset. Her wings, a coppery color that contrasted with the cloudy sky, stretched out majestically as she settled on the ground, her enormous body creating a temporary refuge from the cold.

At the sight of Sunset, a familiar warmth enveloped you. The dragon, with her majestic form and scales that seemed to glow like embers in the snow, was the closest thing to a reminder of home in this distant corner of the world. You approached slowly, and she, with a soft rumble, lowered her head toward you, awaiting the touch of your hand. The warmth of her scales against your skin and the hot breath she exhaled as she relaxed immediately comforted you, driving away the cold that had seeped into your bones since your arrival.

Suddenly, the crunch of snow under boots interrupted the peace of the moment, but you didn’t turn around. It wasn’t necessary; you knew only he would dare approach you and the imposing creature that had accompanied you since your youth. You expected him to come closer, but his steps halted as Sunset’s violet eyes fixed on his figure.

“Come closer, boy,” you said with a slight smile, barely tilting your head to glance at him. “She won’t eat you... unless I command her to.” Your words hung in the air, laced with a hint of challenge. You watched Cregan Stark, with his severe expression and indomitable presence, usually accompanied by the sword that rested in its sheath. Today, however, something about him seemed different. His hair, which he always wore tied back, fell loose over his shoulders, giving him a less restrained, more wild appearance, like the North itself.

His dark eyes remained fixed on the dragon’s, cautious but determined. He was not a man easily intimidated, not even by the mythical creature that posed a constant threat to anyone but you. Yet, in that moment, there was more than just respect in his gaze; there was an unspoken understanding of the power you shared with Sunset, a power he could not ignore.

“Do you not trust her?” you asked, your voice soft but firm, as you continued to stroke the dragon, feeling the powerful muscles beneath her scales relax under your hand.

Cregan kept his distance a moment longer before speaking, his deep voice resonating with the gravity of a man accustomed to the dangers of the North but still unable to fully comprehend the bond between rider and dragon. “I trust you,” he finally said, taking a step closer to you, though still with a cautious eye on Sunset. “But any man who approaches a beast like that would be a fool not to do so carefully.”

You smiled at his response, sensing that despite the cold façade Cregan Stark usually displayed, he wasn’t indifferent to you or to what you meant in his life.

“They're asking,” he suddenly blurted out, breaking the silence that surrounded you. His tone was grave, loaded with a tension that needed no further explanation. It took you a moment to realize who he was referring to.

“Oh... they already have Rickon, why do they insist so much on this?” you replied, your voice tinged with bitterness as your fingers continued to stroke the warm scales of Sunset. The simple act of caressing your dragon helped you contain the frustration you felt. “Do they really care that much about having dragon riders?”

Cregan remained silent for a moment before responding, his footsteps crunching in the snow as he slowly approached you. “Rickon is not yours,” he said, his words slow and measured, as if wanting to make sure you fully understood their implications.

You felt a pang in your chest upon hearing those words, though they were not new to you. Rickon, Cregan’s son, had been an important part of your days in Winterfell. Still, you knew that no matter how attached you had become to the boy, he was not your blood, and that fact was impossible to ignore.

“I know,” you responded with a hint of resignation in your voice. “But they think I’m not trying,” you added sincerely, lowering your hand from Sunset’s scales and starting to walk back toward the fortress.

The weight of your words hung in the air, much like the mist that enveloped the towers of Winterfell. With every step, the coldness of the stone and the northern wind seemed to tighten the knot of pain in your chest. The whole process had been painful, more than anyone outside of your situation could understand. You had lost three pregnancies, each one more devastating than the last. Some of those children had never seen the light, born deformed; others had barely survived a few hours, leaving in their departure a void difficult to fill. The bleeding, the unbearable pain, each loss had left an invisible scar that marked both your body and spirit.

Cregan walked a few steps behind you, silent, but his presence was palpable. There were things he could never fully understand, and though you had tried to keep him distant from your pain, you knew you couldn’t hide everything from him.

“They don’t see it,” you continued, stopping at the threshold before entering. “They don’t see how much it hurts. They don’t understand what it’s like to lose… over and over again.”

The cold wind seemed to remain outside as you crossed the door, but the weight in your chest was as present as ever. Cregan, walking beside you, appeared to be carefully considering his next words, as if knowing that any attempt at comfort could break the delicate calm you both shared.

“We could try again,” he suggested, his tone as practical as ever, as both of you entered the intimacy of your room. The fire crackled weakly in the fireplace, barely offering warmth compared to the tide of emotions bubbling within you.

You stopped abruptly, turning your back to him for a moment before facing him again, your eyes locking with his, defiant. “For what? So the next one can die or kill me?” The harshness in your voice surprised even you. It wasn’t just anger you felt; it was the weight of despair, of a constant struggle against something that seemed beyond your control.

Cregan held your gaze, his expression hardened but not unfeeling. “That’s not what I want,” he finally said, his voice low but firm, as if his intention was to pierce through the armor of pain you had built over time. “But I also can’t ignore that the North needs an heir, and everyone’s eyes are on us, waiting…”

“Waiting for me to give them a child,” you finished for him, your words bitter but real. You knew the burden of producing an heir weighed as much on you as it did on him. It wasn’t a matter of desire or affection; it was a political necessity, one that came with impossible responsibilities and expectations.

You turned toward the fireplace, staring at the flames for a moment, trying to find in the fire some kind of answer that wouldn’t come. “I’ve tried, Cregan. I’ve tried to the point of breaking. And each time, the result is the same.” You felt a lump form in your throat, but you swallowed it before continuing. “I don’t know if I can take any more.”

There was a long silence, interrupted only by the crackling of the fire and the sound of the wind outside. Cregan stepped closer to you, his presence firm but respectful. “I’m not asking you to break for them, not even for me. What I’m asking is that we think together, that we don’t make decisions out of fear or desperation.”

His words, though sensible, did not alleviate the weight you carried. But in his tone, you could perceive something more: a willingness not to let that burden crush you alone. Despite the circumstances that had brought you together, despite the emotional distance that sometimes imposed itself between you, there was an attempt, however clumsy, to share that load.

Still, the pain remained yours. And in that moment, you didn't know if you would be able to face another loss, another disappointment.

Cregan, as always, was pragmatic, but in his pragmatism, there was also a sort of acceptance. "If you decide that you don't want to try again, I'll understand," he said, and though his words were calm, there was a resolution in them that you recognized as genuine. "I just want whatever you choose to be because you want it, not because they demand it."

You carefully settled down next to Rickon, the little one absorbed in his game with the wooden figures representing wolves and other creatures of the forest. His tiny hands skillfully moved the animals, making the wolves howl in their own imaginary world. His hair, darker than Cregan's, was a striking contrast to the cold landscape of the North, and although you never knew his mother, you could guess that Rickon must have been the spitting image of her.

You adjusted yourself, resting your hands on your rounded belly. It had been five months since that conversation with Cregan when, after many sleepless nights and doubts, you decided to give the possibility of an heir another chance. This time, without the shadow of fear looming so large, though anxiety still lurked in the darker corners of your mind. Every movement, every sensation, was a reminder of both hope and risks.

The voice of one of your handmaidens pulled you from your thoughts. "My lady," she said softly, approaching with a parchment in hand, the unmistakable seal of House Umber presiding over the paper. You took it carefully, breaking the seal as Rickon continued to play by your side.

You unfolded the parchment, and a small smile appeared on your lips as you recognized Cregan's firm handwriting. He had set off north weeks ago, leading his men to confront the wildling raids that were disturbing the lands of House Umber. Winterfell had been strangely quiet without him. Though the fortress was never empty, his strong, unwavering presence had been missed. With each passing day, you had grown more accustomed to his company, to the silent security he offered.

His words on the parchment were concise, typical of a man like him, yet they contained enough details to assure you that he was well. The issues with the wildlings were being resolved, and while there were still some pockets of resistance, he expected to return soon. He also mentioned how the Umber, despite their stubborn and proud nature, had offered their hospitality, though it was clear he missed the tranquility of Winterfell and, less directly, your presence.

You lingered over the parchment a moment longer, stroking the edge of the paper with one hand while the other rested on your belly, where the life you had feared so much seemed to be developing normally this time.

Rickon, oblivious to everything, lifted one of his figures toward you. "Look, mother," he said, using the title that Cregan had taught him to call you for the past few months. Though it had surprised you at first, you soon realized it was a gesture as natural as it was necessary. Rickon had accepted you as family, and in that moment, as you held his father's letter, you felt that perhaps this cold and distant North could start to feel a little more like home.

You felt so happy to have him back, enjoying his warm hands and the long conversations you shared about your childhoods. The warmth of his presence filled the room, and every moment together felt like a gift after his absence.

As you quietly contemplated the dance of the flames in the fireplace, you felt his hands wrap around you tenderly. Your back rested softly against his chest, where the steady, comforting beat of his heart resonated. You could feel his warm breath brushing against your cheek, an intimacy that enveloped you and made you forget the cold outside.

His hands, now resting on your belly, left gentle caresses, as if he wanted to connect not only with your skin but with the life growing within you. That physical connection transformed into an emotional bond, a reminder of everything you both meant to each other.

Cregan leaned his head closer, whispering soft words that resonated in your heart. "I’ve missed you," he said sincerely, his voice enveloping.

"I’ve missed you too," you admitted, feeling how vulnerability mixed with joy. "Your absence has left a difficult void to fill." The words came from you with an honesty you hadn’t felt in a long time.

As the fire continued to illuminate the room, you both shared a moment that seemed to suspend time. In those moments, every caress, every whisper was a step toward building a shared life, one that embraced the hope of a future together, filled with love and the promise of a family that, one day, could become a reality.

[solbaby7]

Jolene

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: swearing, quick little blurb, angst w/no comfort, probably typos

summary: [ shoutout to Jolene by Dolly Parton for the inspo but me personally? i would’ve shot jolene ]

��

Envy, the killer of joy.

A feeling that turned even the most pure souls into something cruel and corrupt.

Azriel’s usual routine slightly altering to accommodate the newly Made and barely adjusting Archeron sister. At first you’d found it noble; charming—a testament to his morals and obligation to his High Lord and Lady.

But as time passed and Elain slowly got better, Az got more distant. Less talkative and unable to bring himself out of the doting nature he’d slip into when around her. “Az, my hands work. I can put my own cloak on.”

He knew it was a joke. “I know, it’s just that—nevermind.” Still didn’t stop his mouth from pulling into a barely there grimace, hands pulling away as if you’d bit him and the teasing smile you wear falls.

It’s just that, Elain always lets him put hers on and waits patiently as he ties it securely at her neck.

The step you take back is involuntary but the message is sent perfectly clear when your expression turns to stone, painful realization settling in your bones and it takes everything in you not to buckle on the spot. You’d heard stories, about one-sided mating bonds and the pure turmoil that ensued during the time it took for the others to snap but this—the Mother had a sick sense of humor. Leading you believe that Azriel could ever truly love you without it; a fate more cruel than you could’ve wished on your worst enemies. “You know what, I forgot something upstairs. Why don’t you go on ahead without me and I’ll meet up with you shortly.”

He seems hesitant to comply, brows furrowed as he tries to figure out what had changed so suddenly. After a few beats of time he relents, pressing a farewell kiss to your mouth but he’s gone before you can wonder if he felt your lips tremble.

The safety of solitude allows you the comfort to let the tears fall, shoulders shaking as sobs pull from your chest. You weren’t sure how anyone could bare it; watching the one meant for them love another more than they ever did you.

Manicured fingers curl under the constrictive necklace, tugging it off to make room for the heaving breaths you take and a choked cry fills the space when Elain stands before you. “Gods, I’m so sorry,” You stumble trying to catch your footing and embarrassment burns beneath your skin at the true beauty of her. Perfectly put together in pale pinks and pure white lace. Hand sewn jewels are smattered about the bodice of the finest fabrics, accentuating the warmth of her hair and the glow on unblemished skin. “I thought everyone had already left.” Your arms curl around yourself as you make distance between you, pulling away from her outstretched hands as if they were coated in burning flames.

“Are you alright?”

You laugh thickly but there’s no humor in it. “No,” Your heart won’t stop hammering against your chest and knots form in the pit of your stomach. It’s pathetic, your inability to even appear the slightest bit worthy in the presence of your competitor. But, what was the point when she wasn’t even trying and was still so far ahead? “I’ve been thinking about a million different ways you and I would have this conversation and I assure you, this was not in one of those scenarios.” A poor attempt at a joke but even in the midst of such conflicting and all-consuming feelings, you had no interest in being mean—it wasn’t Elain’s fault. “Forgive me for what I’m about to ask you but are you and Azriel—“ The words clog in your throat, refusing to come forward and you have to turn away from her to wipe your tears. “Are you?”

Elain’s brow furrows and you wonder if that doe look in her eye was the first thing Azriel fell for. Such purity and grace. “I don’t understand.”

“Please, don’t make me say it.” Her heart breaks at the agony in your tone, the defeated sag of your shoulders in the beautiful dress that felt less than lovely when touching your skin. Everything felt wrong the longer you looked at her. So many differences—too many for Azriel to possibly love you both without having a preference. “I love him, Elain. With every breath I take, I love him and I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of it but you—“ Mascara trails down your cheeks and the disgust you feel towards yourself is palpable. “The way he is with you, even I don’t know what that’s like.” A deep shuddering breath to prepare you for the answers to your questions. “So, please, just tell me the truth.”

“He’s been helping me adjust,” Her hands fidget before her, obviously uncomfortable and searching for a safety net but the distance you’ve made hasn’t been broken. You haven’t yelled or accused and the longer Elain stared the worse she felt. “I hadn’t considered how that might affect you but nothing ever happened.”

You shift in place, ankles screaming in your heels and you’re distantly reminded that you promised Az you’d only be a few minutes and this was starting to feel like eons had passed standing in the foyer. “Nothing?” Your voice is lifeless, fresh tears welling in your waterline as your hands grip so tight on your arms your nails bite into soft skin. “He says your name in his sleep,” Elain’s breath catches at the confession and you wonder if Azriel had ever wished to pull that sound from her. Possible scenarios of chaste touches and almost kisses flash behind your lids and the turmoil absolutely eats you alive, gnawing at your flesh and grinding at your bones until there was nothing left. “Reasonably so, your beauty is beyond compare,” Your gaze sweeps over the softness of her hair, the delicate point of her ears just barely peeking through. Soft, feminine features with curves where it mattered and none where it didn’t.

Subconsciously, you take another step back, attempting to hide the endless insecurities in the shadows casted by dim lights but the self-hatred doesn’t cease for a second when she calls your name with such pity.

“Do you love him?” You ask meekly, terrified for her answer and you’re certain she can see you trembling. The tears just won’t stop, blurring your vision and preventing you from breathing normally but something inside of you demands to stick around for her answer. “Because, I can understand how you could easily take him but you just don’t know what he means to me.” Your palm rubs at your chest subconsciously, yearning for a comfort that that hadn’t yet been created—not yet fully formed. “Maybe, it would hurt less if you loved him too—really loved him. But if you don’t, Elain please. Please, I beg of you not to take him from me just because you can.”

Elain remains rooted in place, every flawless feature laced with guilt and shame. She reaches out for you, an attempt to comfort but once her smooth hands reach you skin the sobs wrack your body uncontrollably. She’s too good; too kind and sweet, too innocent and fragile to be touching such stained hands.

It made sense. Azriel loving her. He’d always taken a liking to delicate things.

But Elain had a mate. Had a bond that was mutually shared no matter how hard she fought it. She calls your name once more, full of urgency and remorse when trying to console you but there’s no use. The dam has broken with no tools in sight to repair the damage done.

“You could have your choice of men but I will never love again.” Too much time has passed. Someone will come looking; if not for you then certainly for the High Lady’s sister and the realization has you yanking your hands back. There’s no saving your makeup and Elain can’t fight the tears that fall down her own cheeks as she watches you stumble in the heels, bend over to rip them off and cradle them close as you retreat to the staircase. “He’s the only one for me.”

“Please, I am so sorry.”

The sincerity is appreciated but the words don’t register how they should. “I had to have this talk with you,” It’s barely above a whisper, without the fae hearing Elain was sure she would’ve missed it. “—my happiness depends on you and whatever you decide to do, Elain.”

[whatever-imagines]

“Princess POV Change”

Princess through Logan’s point of view.

Tags: Logan’s basically a U-Haul lesbian and they aren’t even dating. Weird possessiveness. I dunno you let me know.

—-

Logan was a simple woman, she likes to think. She likes solitude, good booze, and pretty women. Not gorgeous, not beautiful; pretty.

She seemed to forget, as she is reminded now, that pretty women make things not so simple sometimes.

You, for example, were causing a whirlwind of emotions.

Xavier hires only super models apparently, you being no exception in Logan’s opinion. You were shorter than her impressive stature, soft in all the right places, face warm and round and you were cute, you were pretty.

And you were avoiding Logan like the plague.

It was probably because she was so rude to you on her first day at the mansion; shouldering past you with a growl of some vague threat as you stood there, just trying to hand in paperwork. The image of you, wide eyed and star stuck, mouth slightly agape, was burnt into the memory of Logan’s mind. You were so painfully pretty; Logan wished she had the forethought to flirt with you rather than try to scare you.

The second time she ran into you, you ran into her. She smelled you and your meek perfume in plenty of time to know you were heading her way; in a rush of some kind with an armful of papers and file folders and a determined look on your face (until you literally ran face first into her chest).

Logan was a sturdy woman, metal skeleton and all, years of taking hits. Your flighty frame didn’t stand a chance and you bounced off her and dropped all your papers.

And she fucked up again.

“Jesus, watch it, squirt!”

“I’m so sorry!” You say it so breathy it almost chokes Logan up. The sound of your voice sounding so vulnerable…

You scatter to collect the paper, and Logan couldn’t help but gravitate towards your hunched over figure. She could practically taste the anxiety wafting off of you. Hear your heart beat faster, smell the sweat gathering at your temple. It was almost as intoxicating and tempting as a good cigar.

“I’ve seen you around…” Logan settles on saying. “You’re Scott’s secretary.”

Logan neglects to mention how insanely jealous of the time you spend with Scott. Hell, she’s been hitting on his girl just to piss him off because of you. The scent of you and Scott mingle too casually for Logan to be comfortable.

Maybe it was mean to call you a secretary. Logan sees all the menial work you do, all the effort you put in to make up for your weak mutation.

Logan sees your eyebrow twitches. “I’m the team’s assistant. I just-“ you gesture to the papers around you. “I handle the boring stuff. Help out when I’m needed. Heal scraped knees and alike.” You state as you rise from the ground.

You’re still unsteady, and in a moment of concern breaking through the laissez-faire attitude, Logan reaches out and steadies you with a warm and heavy hand.

You stiffen instantly, and Logan almost scowls. Were you really so uncomfortable around her?

“Um, Scott really needs these, I should go or else he’ll become more annoying than normal, so-“ you gently shoulder yourself away from Logan’s hand and you scurry down the hall, leaving the fighter behind.

You didn’t see Logan scowl, or how her fingers curl into fists at the mention of Scott. Her lip twitches into a scowl involuntarily.

—-

Logan watches you more after. Your meek behavior, your steadfast loyalty to the school, and your closeness to some extremely powerful mutants intrigues her. It annoyed Logan to an extent, what a goody two shoes you were, how you seem to never be beaten down by what goes on around you.

It also drives her crazy. You were kind to everyone, polite. When Jean clearly irked you, your smile never wavered. Whenever the professor spoke over you you’d snap your mouth close and let him finish. Would you have the same kind of patience for Logan? Would that saint-like mindset extend to her? Her and all her fucked up rage issues? God, if only.

Ororo exits your room, smelling like your perfume and she’s all giddy and it makes Logan’s stomach turn something ugly. And she sees you leave from the window. When you get back to the mansion, for once, your endless gentle optimism seemed to be gone. You looked defeated, tiredly fishing a soda can from the communal fridge where Logan silently followed you.

“You look nice.” Logan says lowly, steadily.

“Oh!” You slam the fridge door shut and quickly snap to attention, turning to face Logan; surprise coloring your face so prettily, she almost missed you thanking her for the compliment.

The Wolverine side of Logan can smell another person on you, cigarette smoke and red wine on your clothes. “Any particular reason for the get up?” It’s a trap, and Logan only feels slightly bad for putting you on the spot. Just slightly, because right now she needed to confirm some suspicions and get some answers. And Logan typically gets what she wants.

You swallow, nervous. “I had a date.” You state firmly yet casually, like you were reiterating the sky was blue.

A low deep hum emits from Logan’s throat, too low for you to probably hear. “Oh? Have fun with him.” The bite in her voice was withheld so firmly there was hardly any, she sounded almost civil. Hopefully.

Your chin juts out, defiant, annoyed. “She was quite boring, actually.”

There was fuzz in Logan’s head after that. Relief of sorts filled her. Still jealous, but relived. You liked woman; she could work with that. Hopefully you liked women like her.

“… don’t like the studious type?” She says after there was a pause for her to respond.

You seem to ponder for a moment before answering. “I like reliable but not dull, if that makes sense.”

It does. Someone to excite you everyday you come home. Logan can do that. Probably. If she doesn’t scare you off, that is.

Words tumble out before the fighter could even process what she wants to convey. “You don’t look at me a lot.” Her sentence was quick and only added tension to the air. “Everyone stares… except you.” Her hand was on your shoulder again, and Logan has to restrain herself from squeezing to get her point across. You don’t look like you could handle a squeeze.

“… it’s rude to stare.” You say after a moment.

You’re… funny. Logan couldn’t help but snort a laugh. “Smart-ass.” She hisses with laughter, before leaving. Logan needs to come up with a plan, now that you gotten her interest so viscerally.

—-

The party exchange shifted something in Logan, now you had a kinship. You both were experiments at some point. When Logan gets her flashes from before 15 years ago, all she feels is fear and pain and weakness. You were already so frail compared to her, how could you have survived anything even similar to what Logan had gone through?

It made Logan want to protect you, especially after your rant. You want a peaceful life, so did Logan. Jean once said you flirt with danger and married safely, Logan could be safe. She could keep you safe, if she tried hard enough.

She keeps you close now. Logan hangs about you to keep a watch on you. Logan curbs Scott’s ego when needed and watches out for you, always quick to greet you with a careful fondness so you feel not threatened by her. She’s putting in the work.

So imagine Logan’s surprise when she hears Ororor whispering to Jean about you trying to date again.

Logan couldn’t have that.

When she sees you next, you’re rushing somewhere again, but Logan stops you. She stops you dead in your tracks, making you look up to her.

She love that you’re shorter than her.

“Let me buy you a drink.”

Logan’s seldom been a nervous person. Worst thing you can do is reject her and she’ll just pine over you for moons to come.

You look flabbergasted. It’s cute. “I’m sorry?”

“Let. Me. Buy. You. A. Drink.” She enunciates, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

You breathe in shock, but not displeasure. “Why?”

Bold as always, Logan lets a rough hand come up and grazes your face.

“I like your face.” She explains, smiling wolfishly. “Let me buy you a drink.”

Your eyes are glossy looking up, face still written with surprise, but when you speak you say, “Okay,” in such a cute shy way, Logan almost kisses you then and there.

She leans closer, relieved, “Thanks, princess.”

[unabashegirl]

Enticing 49 — ceo hs

Harry, a private billionaire and devoted father, hires Y/N as his son's nanny. Her kindness stirs unexpected feelings. Will love overcome his guarded life, a jealous girlfriend, and the mystery of Oliver's mother?

Author's note: Yesterday, I thought I hadn't posted chapter 48, but I noticed I had posted the same chapter twice after a fellow follower pointed it out. Thank you for letting me know.

⭐️ I'm still trying to gather $1600 to pay for my medical school. Please consider donating it. I'm desperate. I would really appreciate it. --> Ko-Fi ☕️

⭐️ I’ve created a Patreon collection with ALL the chapters of Enticing available for $15 (54 posts). This is an option for those who are tired of waiting and want instant access. Otherwise, the usual $3 subscription is still available with access to the other one shots.😊 ----> Patreon

⭐️ --> enticing masterlist <---

It was a damp and chilly day in the heart of New York City, a late November afternoon pregnant with the promise of impending festivities. Christmas lurked just around the corner, casting its enchanting glow over the city that never sleeps. Harry, having just ventured home from the office, found himself stepping into an apartment that echoed with the quiet hum of transition.

The majority of their possessions lay encased in cardboard, snugly packed away, anticipating the journey to a new residence. Y/N's apartment, a temporary sanctuary, had been earmarked for a new role as a vacation rental property. The couple was poised to relocate to their new abode before the advent of Christmas, and certainly before the arrival of their imminent bundle of joy.

Harry, as he traversed the threshold, observed the in-between state of their living space—a tableau caught between the echoes of the past and the whispers of the future. The walls, witnesses to laughter and shared secrets, seemed to murmur tales of times gone by.

The living room, bereft of its usual assortment of trinkets, projected a curious amalgamation of unfamiliarity and warmth. A solitary chair, adorned with a throw that had borne witness to countless movie nights and stolen kisses, beckoned in solitude. The room, now devoid of life's chaos, stood as an expectant canvas, yearning for the brushstrokes of a new chapter.

In the kitchen, once alive with the aroma of shared meals, the dance of packing materials and neatly folded dishcloths unfolded. The refrigerator, once a tapestry of joyous memories held in place by magnets, now stood bare. Yet, within this emptiness lay the promise of a blank canvas, ready to be adorned with fresh memories.

Harry, feeling a sudden yearning for connection, reached for his phone, dialing the first contact in his favorites. A single ring later, her melodic voice spilled through the receiver.

"Hi honey," she sang, her words a comforting melody.

"Hey. Where are you?" Harry inquired, his eyes wandering to the cityscape outside.

"We're out for a stroll in the park," she replied. "Thought it'd be nice to enjoy the crisp air. And, uh, we might've stopped for some hot chocolate. Oliver insisted.”

"Oliver insisted, huh?" Harry playfully retorted, a smile gracing his lips. The sound of their voices, a lifeline in the midst of change, offered him solace. "I had no idea that Oliver could form full sentences.”

"Alright. It might have to do something with me and his sisters' cravings," she explained, laughter lacing her words.

“How come I wasn’t invited?” Harry asked as he began wrapping a scarf around his neck.

“I thought you would be coming from work late,” she replied. "We're still at the park, wandering around. Would you like to join us?”

“Already on my way.” Harry ended the call, donned his coat, and embarked on a journey to join the two most important people in his life.

As he navigated through the park, the cold air nipping at his cheeks, Harry scanned the surroundings, searching for the familiar figures of his girlfriend and son. The chill seemed to fade in significance against the warmth that swelled within him at the prospect of joining their spontaneous escapade.

Finally, he spotted them near a quaint Christmas market, Y/N cradling Oliver in her arms as they admired the festive decorations. Harry approached with a grin.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, Oliver reaching out towards him with a delighted grin. Harry scooped him up, planting a tender kiss on his rosy cheek. "Hey, little man. How was the hot chocolate?” he inquired after a quick peck on Y/N's lips.

“Yummy. Even though I slightly burned my tongue.” Harry chuckled and reached for the stroller. “How was the office?” Y/N initiated small talk as they navigated the bustling streets.

“Good. I finally had the chance to set up a visit to the office in London, but after our trip to Anguilla.” Harry had orchestrated a week away from the New York hustle before the impending move and the holiday season. Work had taken a toll on him, and he needed a brief respite. “Did you pack already?”

“I did. I even checked that you had packed everything too. You hadn’t packed a swimsuit.”

“That’s insignificant. Could have skinny-dipped,” he quipped, winking at her as she took charge of the stroller. “You ruined the fun.”

“Harry!” she exclaimed, laughter dancing in her eyes. "Let’s stop at the deli. I want to get some things for my mom."

"What time is your mother getting here?" Harry inquired, trailing behind her as she led the way into their local grocery store. Y/N’s mom was set to stay for a week, graciously offering to look after Oliver during their travels. Harry welcomed the gesture with open arms, recognizing it as a chance for Mrs. Johnson to indulge in a well-deserved vacation.

"In about two hours or so. I just want to fully stock the fridge, so she doesn’t have to venture out or do any unnecessary walking," Y/N explained, pulling a shopping cart into position.

With their shopping complete, they made their way to the checkout counter. The cashier greeted them with a friendly smile, scanning each item before placing them in bags. Harry paid for the groceries, and they exited the store, the bell chiming softly once more.

The night air was crisper now, and they huddled together, the warmth of their shared breath creating a cocoon against the cold. Bags in hand, they started the short journey back to their apartment.

As they walked, the city sounds surrounded them—the distant honking of a taxi, the muffled conversations of pedestrians, and the occasional rustling of leaves caught in a gentle breeze. The weight of the bags added a comforting sense of purpose to their steps.

Reaching the apartment building, they rode the elevador, the bags swaying with each movement. Unlocking the door, they stepped into the warmth of their home, the scent of groceries mingling with the familiar fragrance of the apartment.

"Mission accomplished," Harry declared, setting the bags on the kitchen counter. As they unpacked the groceries, the quiet simplicity of the moment settled over them—a shared task, a cozy home, and the promise of moments yet to unfold.

The clock was ticking towards nine in the evening when the security intercom buzzed, signaling the arrival of Elizabeth and Delilah, Y/N's younger sister. Elizabeth had chosen to take the latest train, and a mix of excitement and nerves accompanied her journey. Bringing her daughters together was an endeavor that had tugged at her emotions.

The elevator doors chimed, signaling their arrival on the top floor.

"Y/N?" Elizabeth's voice echoed through the foyer. Y/N swiftly untangled herself from Harry and Oliver, walking briskly to her mother. "Look at you!" Elizabeth exclaimed, enveloping her oldest daughter in a warm embrace. "You are absolutely glowing!"

“I’ve missed you!” Y/N said as she pulled away and then turned to look at her sister.

"Delilah, it's been too long. How have you been?" Y/N's voice carried a genuine sweetness, As Y/N greeted Delilah at the door, there was an undeniable warmth in her eyes, a genuine attempt to bridge the gap that time had created between them.

"Busy, you know how it is," Delilah replied vaguely, avoiding eye contact. The air in the room hung heavy with unspoken tensions, as if the weight of their past differences loomed large. Y/N tried to steer the conversation toward more neutral ground

"Well, we're so glad you could make it. How's school?”

“Fine” Y/N struggled with the tangible discomfort of trying to reconnect with a sister determined to keep an emotional distance. "Is this your house?" Delilah inquired.

"My boyfriend's," Y/N replied.

"I've told you it's just as much yours as it is mine," Harry chimed in, approaching with a drowsy Oliver cradled in his arms. "I am very pleased to finally meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N."

"Please call me Elizabeth, Harry."

"I would shake your hand, but I'm a bit tied up with this one," he said, motioning to the almost one-year-old sleeping in his arms. “Thank you for coming. I am sure it’s not easy to drop work and school for a favor. I’m very grateful”. Elizabeth smiled, “You must be Delilah. It’s nice to meet you too”.

“Thanks” Delilah couldn't help but feel a sense of surprise as her eyes inadvertently lingered on Harry's features. His natural beauty struck her, catching her off guard. The way his curls fell effortlessly, the strong jawline, and the warmth in his eyes all seemed almost too perfect. She had seen her sister with attractive partners before, but there was something distinctly captivating about Harry. It left Delilah momentarily stunned, her initial coldness thawing as she found herself acknowledging the genuine charm of Y/N's boyfriend.

"Come in, please. Dinner is served in the dining room," Harry welcomed them into the living room. "I'm just going to put him to bed, and I'll be back."

"Mom, please leave that there. Harry and I will take it upstairs," Y/N said, observing her mom struggling with her purse, a carry-on, and a duffle bag that appeared to belong to her younger sister.

"Harry and I? You better not be carrying heavy things, Y/N," Elizabeth warned as she placed all the bags beside the staircase.

"I am not," Y/N smiled, gently grabbing her mother's hand, a reminiscent gesture from her childhood. Elizabeth's face lit up with memories as she marveled at her oldest daughter. "I promise," Y/N added, reassuring her mother.

"Pregnancy is really suiting you, honey," Elizabeth commented.

"Are you excited to be a grandma?" Y/N asked, throwing an arm over her mother's shoulders as she guided her towards the dining room.

"I can't wait. Have you guys set a name?"

"Isn't it too soon?"

"You look big enough to have her tomorrow," Delilah remarked under her breath, intentionally hurting Y/N's feelings and confidence. Elizabeth glanced at Delilah with a disapproving look, silently urging her to be more considerate. Y/N, though hurt by the remark, maintained her composure as they all gathered at the dining table. The room was filled with a warm glow from the flickering candles, creating a serene ambiance.

As they settled into their seats, Harry reappeared, having successfully put Oliver to bed. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of Y/N and her family. He was at peace that it had finally happened and that he had been given a second chance, but more importantly that he got the change to finally meet her family.

Dinner was a mix of casual conversation and catching up on the time they had spent apart. Elizabeth, despite her initial reservations, couldn't help but be drawn to Harry's genuine charm and warm hospitality. Delilah, on the other hand, seemed to have a small crush on her sister’s boyfriend.

"So, where are you guys off to?" Elizabeth inquired, savoring a bite of the dark chocolate pie that Y/N had expertly prepared.

"Anguilla. Eastern Caribbean," Harry replied, a warm smile accompanying his words. "Thought it'd be nice to take a little break before the hectic months ahead."

Elizabeth's eyes twinkled with delight. "That's a wonderful idea”.

"We leave tomorrow, but don't worry, the fridge is fully stocked, and I made sure to buy all your favorites," Y/N chimed in, casting a reassuring glance at her mother. Elizabeth chuckled, appreciating the thoughtful gesture.

As the evening progressed, everyone ascended the stairs to the apartment. Harry, gracious and understanding, bid his goodbyes, excusing himself to provide Y/N with a private moment to reconnect with her family.

Y/N, her heart filled with a mix of nostalgia and anticipation, led her mother, Elizabeth, to the guest bedroom overlooking Central Park. "This will be your room, Mom," she announced warmly, pushing the door open to reveal a freshly cleaned space with a picturesque view. "This is the room with the best view. You just wait and see tomorrow." Harry had efficiently brought up the luggage Elizabeth arrived with, and Y/N continued her considerate tour. "There are fresh towels in the bathroom and a robe in case you want to get cozy," she shared, patting down the feather duvet. "Your room is right across, Delilah."

The room Y/N had selected for her sister held a special significance, as it was the very room she once occupied during her time as a nanny. Every detail had been meticulously arranged, with freshly cleaned linens and neatly folded blankets. Elizabeth followed behind, observing her eldest daughter as she removed the numerous decorative pillows from the bed.

"I picked this room for you because the sunrise is from the back, you won't be disturbed by the early sunlight. And, of course, the blackout curtains make it even more comfortable." Y/N explained, gesturing to the window that framed a peaceful view.

However, as the atmosphere settled into a semblance of peace, Delilah seized a moment alone with Y/N to express her disdain. "You seem to be enjoying this domestic scene quite a lot, playing house with your rich boyfriend," she sneered, her tone cutting through the otherwise serene atmosphere. Caught off guard by the sudden hostility, Y/N took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts before responding to her sister's unexpected critique.

As Delilah's sharp words lingered in the air, Y/N felt a wave of discomfort wash over her. Despite the celebratory occasion of her family's visit, Delilah seemed determined to cast a shadow over the reunion. Y/N tried to keep her composure, offering a soft smile and attempting to steer the conversation toward a more positive direction.

"Well, it's not about playing house or being rich," Y/N responded, her voice steady. "Harry and I are building a life together, and we're excited about the future." She chose her words carefully, hoping to diffuse the tension that hung in the room.

Delilah, however, remained unyielding. "Building a life or being carried away in someone else's?" she retorted, her skepticism apparent. Y/N could sense an underlying resentment, a sentiment she hadn't anticipated. The transition from their childhood dynamics to this newfound reality appeared to be a source of contention for Delilah.

“Carried away? I have a job and a career. Sure, Harry probably makes more than me, but that doesn’t mean that I am just a trophy wife or girlfriend in this case”

Delilah's expression remained skeptical, a visible furrow on her brow. "Career or convenience?" she challenged, her tone biting. Y/N took a moment to collect her thoughts, not wanting to escalate the situation further.

"I'm not sure why I'm bothering to explain this to you. It's clear you're too immature to understand or be happy for me. I thought after all this time, you might have changed a bit," Y/N shook her head, frustration evident in her tone. "It's obvious this isn't about me and Harry. This is about what happened a few years ago. It's time to grow up and move on.”

---> Chapter 50

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

THERE WAS NO PLACE IN NATURE WE COULD MEET ; SUGURU GETO

synopsis; on a late night out, you run into your ex of ten years. unfairly handsome, charming as ever — first in line for an overdue execution. you don’t know what geto wants from you, and you’re not sure you want to find out.

word count; 3.3k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, geto-typical angst, exes to [redacted], lots of longing, geto is kind of a cunt but also disgustingly charming, reader is understandably upset, biblical imagery (i just think he’s so serpent coded), curse user geto is his own warning tbh

a/n; i wanted this to be a drabble so bad but it ended up just a little too long for me to get away w it so … :’3 yeah. i hate suguru geto (said w affection)

the moon is out.

in the shadows of the street corner you find yourself in, curled up comfortably on the sidewalk, it’s a welcome distraction. something to look at, in the midst of your loneliness; the evanescent glow of the moon doing nothing but illuminating your solitude.

a solitude soon to be broken. shattered into pieces, battered and bruised beyond recognition— jagged shards littering the asphalt.

digging into the soles of your shoes.

”hey.”

for a second, you think you must be dreaming.

the figure obscuring the light of the lamp post in front of you is familiar. too familiar, a little too dear for your liking. as you grasp your shitty cup ramen, seeking the warmth seeping through the polystyrene — all you can do is stare. blinking dumbly, drowsily.

geto looks something like a bad omen.

sharp facial features, even sharper eyes. so dark they almost shift from an amber-tainted cedar into an obsidian black — two abysses, staring into your soul, beckoning you closer. they were always enchanting, but now you think they look almost hypnotizing. not at all in a good way. dark hair frames his face, cascading down his back, longer than you remember it being. and he’s wearing robes.

still has those fucked up bangs, though. of all the things to keep.

the gears of your mind turn, endlessly, untangling the mess of thoughts inside your brain. ensuring you that no, you are not hallucinating, and no, you didn’t fall into a deep slumber somewhere between the moment you exited the convenience store and sat down by one of tokyo’s empty street corners. this is real. a reality you can’t comprehend, can’t even begin to process.

what stands in front of you is a ghost. but ghosts don’t exist, can’t be seen, can’t touch the living.

(so how is he able to haunt you like this?)

what eventually jolts you out of your silent stupor is not the questioning tilt of his head, nor the suffocating sensation of your heart crawling up your throat, but the feeling of soft fur against your leg. the stray cat you met further down the street meows at you, sweetly, trying to get your attention. you think she must be asking for more grilled fish.

so, completely ignoring the apparition in front of you, you turn to reach for the little plastic bag you bought as a midnight snack — digging out a bit of fish for the kitty to enjoy. she seems happy, settling down by your feet. purring softly.

geto watches, eerily silent. 

(maybe he’s upset that you’re ruining his dramatic entrance. you hope so.)

finally, you have no choice but to look at him. a lump forms in the back of your throat, clogging up a little more for every second spent falling into the trap he’s laid out for you, trailing over his moonlit features with your tired gaze.

mouth full of noodles, staring holes into his attire, you narrow your eyes. suddenly disgruntled.

his lips quirk up. ”something the matter?” he asks, and you can’t even begin to describe how much you hate his voice. how devastatingly deep it is, during the late hours of the night, even deeper than it was back in high school. 

slurping up the soggy noodles, you lean back a little, licking some broth off your lips. finally meeting those abyssal eyes. 

”… i was gonna say those robes look like shit on you,” comes an exhale, weary, ”but you actually kinda pull them off. that’s…” 

a beat. you struggle to find the right word. 

”annoying.”

geto’s lips curl up, smoothly, and you find a hint of familiar amusement in the vague crinkle of his eyes. barely visible crows’ feet. then he’s moving — plopping down right beside you, robes fluttering with the breeze.

”well, thank you.” he hums; crossing his legs.

the silence that festers around you is odd. not quite suffocating, nor especially fragile. definitely not comforting. it’s familiar, yet different, and it hurts a bit more than it should. but you choose to look at him, out of the corner of your eye, and he looks right back at you. still smiling that eerie smile.

when your eyes settle on the particular cloth wrapped around his torso, you just barely manage to bite back a taunting chuckle.

”a gojo-kesa, huh?” you grin, and geto doesn’t flinch. he doesn’t miss the meaningful glint in your eyes, either. ”you miss him that much?”

”just a coincidence,” is all he answers. smiling, but you think it looks a little stiff.

your grin widens, for a second, before settling back down. a sad transition. you let it go. 

”whatever you say, geto.”

at that, he visibly reacts. barely noticeable, but it’s there — a twitch of his lithe fingers, an unknown something that flickers through the scope of his iris. when he looks at you, a neutral smile is playing at his lips. 

”ah. i take it we’re not on first name basis anymore, then?” he asks, casually, hiding a tinge of something mildly displeased.

a shrug. you pick at what’s left of your ramen with your chopsticks, a little too nauseous to enjoy it. ”call me what you want. i just don’t see suguru when i look at you, y’know?” leaning forward, you begin to pet the kitty by your feet. ”he was sweeter.”

geto smiles. almost a grin, but not quite there. a chuckle spills out from his lips, and something about it irritates you. ”was he?”

”yeah,” you nod. without hesitation. a summer-stained memory blooms behind your eyelids, but you try not to look at it. all you catch is a glimpse of cherry blossoms. ”you just seem bitter.” 

the grin that finds its way onto your lips is self-deprecating. a shadow falls over your face.

”guess we’re in the same boat, huh?”

a hum buzzes in his throat. he casts a meaningful glance towards your hand, scratching behind the cat’s ear. ”oh, i don’t know about that.” his smile grows with the drawl. ”.. you seem just as sweet as always.”

to your grave annoyance, you can’t control the way your face changes at his words. a twitch of your lips gives away your discontentment, and something sour settles on the tip of your tongue.

(your blood begins to boil, beneath your skin.)

geto sighs, suddenly, filling the tense silence between you — a little theatrical. ”ah, but that’s a shame.” he turns to you, soft pout playing at his lips. ”i was hoping i could hear you call me suguru again…”

”— i was hoping you’d come back.”

a beat.

somewhere outside your vision, a crow takes flight into the night sky. swallowed by darkness, melting into that sea of black. no longer perceivable, by you or the world.

”but you never did,” the polystyrene of the plastic cup crinkles beneath your fingers. your eyes look dull. ”so what the fuck do you want, exactly?”

…

”i heard.” geto rests his jaw on the heel of his palm, gazing at you with those piercing eyes. like he’s trying to see inside your brain. ”… about your decision.”

”ah,” a grin splits across the curve of your lips, showing off the white of your teeth. ”of course. that’s what this is about, huh?”

with groggy movements, you throw away your nearly-empty cup of noodles, haphazardly aiming towards a trash can across the street. it bounces off the steel cover, landing on the ground with a soft thud. leftover broth spilling out across the pavement. geto doesn’t bother to hide his amusement, lips twitching upwards before he sends a curse to eat it from the asphalt.

you furrow your brows in embarrassed annoyance.

a moment passes, and something in you knows that he’s waiting. it’s like you can practically sense it, like it’s etched into your bones. the same way you always knew exactly when he would begin to get impatient during your nightly convenience store runs back in high school — after you had spent about ten solid minutes struggling to decide what kind of chips you wanted. 

”what can i say?” you lean back, palms against rough concrete, breathing in the midnight air. ”you inspired me.”

geto tilts his head. smiling. always, always smiling. he smiled at you the day before he massacred that village, too. ”oh?”

with a deep breath, cool air courses through your body. burning your lungs. ”i realized being a sorcerer is completely fucking meaningless,” you exhale through your nose. ”and that trying to change that fact is even more meaningless.” 

a wicked, rueful grin rests on your lips. ”so i left.”

geto doesn’t say anything. you continue, voice dripping with venom.

”i’m a civilian now,” you purr, mocking, a sardonic coo on your tongue. ”does that bother you? feel like killing me?”

…

his smile looks a little off, now. tilted in a direction you don’t want to recognize. you don’t care to examine it further, don’t care to figure out if it might look just a little bit sad, because that’d only hurt more.

so you look away.

a click of his tongue. then he speaks, with that honeyed voice, raspy and husky. almost a groan. ”well, i can’t say i approve.”

he’s looking at you. sharp eyes digging into your skin, dissecting you, a million words he expects you to grasp from that look alone.

”you’re better than them,” he states, matter-of-factly, and you try not to squirm when his eyes trail over your features. ”worlds better.” his voice sounds almost motherly, a twisted concern that makes you cower a little. like he’s scolding you. a crease between his brows.

”i don’t like the thought of you surrounded by these animals.”

a huff pushes past your lips, but it sounds shakier than you’d like it to. you hope he just chalks it up to the chill of the air. then again, when has he ever made anything easy for you?

”what, you got a problem with cats now?” you reach for the little furball licking grilled fish off the concrete, picking it up. cradling it close. ”gonna go on a cat-killing spree?”

an amused exhale. geto narrows his eyes. ”funny,” he hums, but his eyes say you know what i mean.

it takes you a moment to regain control over your breathing. there’s still something tense in your shoulders, and your heart still feels a little like it might jump out of your throat and crawl into his lap. the stray cat slips from your grasp, moving towards geto, curiously sniffing at his robes. he looks at it with no ill intent, and it puts you at ease.

”well, i appreciate the concern, buddy,” you pat his back, trying not to flinch at the contact. trying to appear relaxed. ”but frankly, i don’t give a shit. i actually like my job, unlike literally every single sorcerer on planet earth.”

geto stills.

”.. buddy?” he echoes, ignoring every other bitter word you just graced him with. for some reason, he actually seems visibly bothered. ”i’m buddy now?”

you click your tongue. muttering, tiredly. a little exasperated. ”.. what else would you be?”

and then he smiles, again. only this time, it looks oddly genuine. the same as you remember, framed by cherry blossoms and the fizzle of youth.

his movements are smooth. like he’s completely unguarded, like this situation doesn’t bother him in the slightest. elegant, in the way he leans back, palms on the concrete to support his weight. keeping eye contact with you, all the while.

when he speaks, his voice has a sweet tinge to it. nostalgic, maybe. wistful. if you hear a touch of longing, you choose to ignore it.

”i seem to recall you calling me baby quite a lot,” he hums, and you stiffen. gritting your teeth. eyes darkening, but he continues. ”what else was there? angel, i think… it was sweet.”

then he’s leaning forward. scratching the cat under its chin, gently. ”ironic, though.”

an inhale. then, an exhale. they’re a little shaky, a little meek, but at least they make the lump in your throat feel less like it’s blocking your windpipe. air fills your lungs, but it tastes like nothing at all. 

something like sorrow simmers in your eyes. or maybe more like fatigue. god, you really want to cry.

(you wonder if he gets some sickening satisfaction out of seeing you like this, out of breaking you. maybe it just makes him feel rotten.

you don’t know what you’d prefer.)

”suguru,” you murmur, at last. voice dripping with exhaustion. defeated, the sigh that flows from your lips. ”why did you come here?”

…

”join me.”

the words spill out into the open air, slicing the silence in half. heavy. a request, not a question. against your better judgement, you turn your head to meet his gaze.

”we could use you,” he says, and there’s hope in those keen eyes. he maintains his distance, but for some reason you still feel like prey being sized up by a predator. like he’s weighing your value.

a chuckle slips from your lips, but there’s no humour to it. ”use me…” you echo, a tired murmur under your breath. ”you're just straight up admitting it, huh? that’s kind of refreshing.”

”that’s not what i meant.”

he inches closer. slowly, as if trying not to scare you. reaching out, to brush through your bangs, his fingertips ghosting over your skin. tangling them between your locks, inserting himself into your space. testing the waters. 

you don’t look at him, completely still. barely breathing. like a wounded animal.

”i want you there,” he says, and it comes out almost as a whisper. ”with us.”

unable to resist the temptation, you indulge in a single brief glance his way. his eyes look warm, and his lips look soft as they part.

”with me.” 

there’s a devotion to his voice when he continues, one he’s always had. one you thought you’d always be able to trust. ”i’ll create a world where you can be happy,” he vows. ”i swear it.”

a moment passes.

(you swallow thickly. it takes everything you have not to burst into tears. when you remember how he brushed you off, back then, it gets a little easier. when you remember all the skipped meals.)

”.. like you give a damn.”

geto smiles. you loathe how soft it looks, how similar it is to the one suguru always had. when you used to eat your ramen too quickly and started choking on it, and he brought a palm to your upper back, patting it gently. he’d chuckle, and tell you to slow down, and the softness of his smile would almost be enough to distract you from the amusement in his eyes. 

”my love.”

you flinch. breath drawing back at the base of your throat, heart screeching to a halt, and some part of you emerges; the shy, sweet kid you used to be. hanging on to his every world. like he was your sun, your guiding light. back when that purr of my love had you blushing furiously— not choking back a string of curses.

it’s sudden, and you can’t react the way you want to. you want to kill him for calling you that. for thinking he has any right to call you his, anymore.

but that sweet, naive, innocent little kid still exists. even if you want to pretend otherwise. it’s there, somewhere, that part of you — peeking out from behind the curtain. and it stops you from saying anything that might hurt him.

(it’s so hard to hate him when he calls you that.)

if geto notices your inner turmoil — he must — then he doesn’t mention it. you don’t say anything, but you hope the amused, harsh exhale you partake in is signal enough for him to cut it off. now.

yet he continues. there’s love in his voice when he speaks, barely contained. if he’s trying not to hurt you he’s doing an awful job.

”… i never stopped thinking of you,” he whispers, so low you almost miss it. ”not once. i left for you, not just for myself.”

and, despite every part of your being resisting it, a sweetness settles on your tongue. so sweet it’s sickening; the thought that maybe he’s telling the truth, maybe he really has been thinking of you. maybe you’re more to him than just a means to meet an end, or a memory yet to be buried.

geto looks at the moon. bathed in moonlight, he looks a little like a god. like something reverent. his voice is honeyed. low, like a secret.

”this world doesn't deserve you.”

silence.

a subtle anger trickles through your veins, a kind of fury, subdued, carefully tucked away. sparking to life inside the depths of your eyes when you look at him. bitter, given everything. but your voice still comes out sounding something like a plea.

”and you think you do?”

another smile. this time, it looks a little sad. remorseful, maybe. ”… let me prove myself.”

his touch burns. the pads of his fingers against your cold skin, cupping your cheek. slithering down to grasp your hand. and you’re pliant, unable to react. just sitting with that aching hollow feeling in your chest.

”i wasn’t worthy, back then,” he hums, bringing your hand to his lips. ”but now…”

a kiss to your knuckle. featherlight. reverent. you try not to shiver, but when he says your name, dragging each syllable out, like they belong on his tongue —

a chill runs down your spine.

when he speaks, you feel his warm breath on your skin. it’s dizzying. ”i’m not the same suguru you once knew,” he admits, a forlorn look in his eyes. and devotion, frighteningly sincere. ”unlike him — i’ll never let you go.”

what a twisted desire. he wants to take you with him, drag you down to hell. the suguru you knew wouldn’t put you through that. but maybe you’re even more twisted, for wishing he had; for wishing he had taken you with him, ten years ago, instead of leaving without a single goodbye.

geto’s voice is soft. coaxing, like he's handling a frightened mouse. join me, he whispers, and you think of eve. when you look at his mouth you think you see serpents’ teeth behind his lips.

(you're almost sure he notices it. and you're almost sure his smile widens, lips curling up, as if preparing to open his maw and swallow you whole.)

a sickening sense of resignation roots itself somewhere in your gut. 

you pull your hand away, and he lets you. the loss of warmth hits you like a freight train, but you aren’t sure you could think clearly with his skin on yours. when you part your lips to speak, only air comes out, just barely forming a sentence. like there are no more words to say. like the world stopped spinning around you both a lifetime ago.

”i don't love you.”

…

for just a second, his smile falters. 

”no?” he hums, and you wish it didn’t hurt so bad to see him hurt. his eyes carry a kind of patience, something gentle. ”it’s fine… these things take time.”

a bitter chuckle. ”like you’d know anything about waiting,” you spit, and it comes out sounding venomous. a phantom ache sprouts in the spot where his lips touched your skin.

geto closes his eyes.

”you don't need to love me,” he says, finally. kind. you hate that he still sounds so kind. so understanding, like nothing you do could be wrong in his eyes. ”as long as you're beside me, that's enough.” 

he turns to look at you, and his smile looks very real, for a moment. impossibly fond. ”i have two daughters. i’ve told them about you,” he smiles. ”my family… you’d like them. i know they’d like you.”

dark clouds cover the moon, suddenly, and a shadow falls across you both. illuminated only by the streetlight. in the distance, you hear a car whooshing by.

”don’t stay at the bottom,” he beckons, and your name slips from his lips again. soft, his tongue bending around the vowels. coaxing. stirring your heartstrings like a puppeteer.

then he’s standing up, dusting off his robes, large hands smoothing down the fabric. turning around, towering over you; obscuring everything else. all you see is him, under the glow of the lamp post. a halo of artificial light.

”come. let me show you the world we can create.”

he gives you a sweet smile, two abysses gazing into you. the promise of something twisted, new, forbidden. you think of red skin and yellow flesh; the bite of sin.

and for a second, you see it. the world. a world where laughter comes from the bottom of your gut, and the trees are always ripe for picking, red apples hanging from the branches like glowing rubies. a world where sweetened fruit never give way to rot.

paradise.

geto stretches a hand out towards you. fingers unfurling, one by one, like a blooming camellia. close, right there in front of you, so close that you’re tempted to take his hand in yours, let him carry you away. burn everything else to the ground. 

(you think of the serpent. you think of god.

only one of them banished eve.)

”so,” he smiles. ”what do you say?”

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

HEY GWORL GUESS WHO IT IS 💫. I'M BORED ASF DOING REVISION SO IMMA GIVE YOU A FIC PROMPT 😊😊

Okay so Baldwin doesn't realise this but he has severe separation anxiety from you, and one day you go away to visit a sick relative and he's so lonely all day and he's just mooching about the library and the stables etc etc. When you come back in the evening you realise just how much he missed you and you feel bad about leaving him and you both fall asleep curled up together 💗 (Also you don't HAVE to do this but when they're cuddling at the end of the day Baldwin's golden hair has to be out and you're running your fingers through it when you're reassuring him)

I KNOW YOU'RE SUPER BUSY SO PLZ IGNORE THIS IF YOU HAVE TO DW 🙏🙏

♡ Beautiful Boy - King Baldwin x Reader ♡

♡ Fluff ♡

A/N: Hello Maddy!! Thank you so much for the request girl this is so cute 😭. Havent heard from you for a while, I hope youre doing well 🩷! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

PS: F/n = Fathers name. I use that term in this oneshot 😅

TW: Leprosy, Separation Anxiety

It had been a few years since the marriage between the king of Jerusalem and the daughter of Lord f/n.

In the time the two had been married, there was rarely a day they spent apart. Every moment of each day was spent together, whether it be in conversation or comfortable silence.

Baldwin, who before his wedding was used to a life of solitude, welcomed the company with open arms. He loved having not just a wife, but a companion who he could share each and every one of his deepest thoughts with.

After so many years of being alone, he was finally whole. He adored being around y/n and she adored being around him. They were perfect for eachother.

But it was not until one day that the young king realized just how much the absence of his wife affected him. He knew that he missed her when she was gone, even if it was for only a few minutes. But he was not aware that her absence could possibly destress him until y/n’s father fell ill.

It was necessary that she went to see him, despite Baldwin not being able to attend by order of his physicians.

“I will be back before sundown” y/n told him with a smile as she mounted her horse.

“I promise you”

“Very well, just please be safe,” the young king replied.

Baldwin found himself fighting back tears as she rode off into the desert, leaving him to watch her disappear into the horizon. He thought about what to do while she was gone.

It was a slow day in the kingdom, not a whole lot to do. Usually on days like this, he and the queen would sit in their shared chambers, playing chess, reading together or just talking about anything.

But not today.

First, Baldwin headed for the library. He ascended the stairs, stopping a few times to catch his breath on account of the mask that restricted his breathing more than it already was.

Cursing under his breath, he finally made it to the library. Baldwin walked silently through the rows and rows of books, wishing that his wife was there to look with him.

Once or twice, he even caught himself calling out her name to come and see an interesting paper he found, only to be met with silence. With a heavy sigh, Baldwin began to descend the stairs once again after finding no cure to his loneliness amongst the books.

He went to the stables, the courtyard, even the kitchen before returning to his chambers after a few hours.

Taking a seat at his desk, the young king felt tears well in his eyes. He felt so alone without her. So anxious and strangely vulnerable. What was happening to him? A man should not rely so heavily on his wife for such things, but he did.

Baldwin pondered this for a while and just when he felt as if he would finally cry, the chamber doors opened and y/n entered the room with a smile.

“Hello darling, how was your day?” she asked cheerfully, putting her bag down.

Baldwin rushed to his wife, wrapping his arms around her neck and pulling her into a tight hug.

“Oh- you missed me did you?” she chuckled, startled by his sudden affection.

Baldwin did not reply, just hugged her tighter and squeezed his eyes shut. Y/n returned the hug, rubbing her husband's back gently. She reached up and pulled his veil off to reveal silky blonde curls before running her hand through them, scratching him behind the ear and over the scalp.

Baldwin groaned softly at the feeling of her hands working away the growing migraine in his head.

“It's getting late, why don't we get some rest hm?” y/n said softly, the young king only nodded in reply. 

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

Baldwin did not let go of his wife a single time as they were getting ready for bed. He was either holding her hand or resting his chin on her shoulder, so y/n never got more than a foot away before he was back by her side.

It was amongst this and his greeting that made y/n realize he had missed her much more than she believed he would. Baldwin had always been somewhat clingy but this hurt her heart. He was so deeply attached to her that it made her never wanted to leave his side again.

Once in bed, Baldwin was very quick to snuggle into his wife.

“You missed me today huh?” y/n said gently, running her fingers through his hair.

Baldwin nodded.

“I missed you too, my love. But I am back now, and I will always come back. No matter how long I'm gone”.

The young king looked up at his wife and smiled. She loved seeing his smile without the mask. He had the cutest little smile and his bright blue eyes always glowed when he looked at her.

Y/n kissed her husband's forehead, pushing a golden curl away from his eye. She cupped his mottled face in her hand. In return, Baldwin nuzzled his cheek into her palm, looking up at her with a dreamy smile.

“You're so beautiful Baldwin” she whispered. “My beautiful boy” 

“I love you y/n” the young king said, the dreamy smile never once leaving his face.

“I love you too Baldwin. And I always will”.

Y/n held her husband close to her that night as he dozed off to sleep in her arms. She waited until he was fast asleep before closing her eyes, just to ensure that he was alright.

Before long, both the young king and queen were sleeping peacefully, curled up together in each other's embrace.

Exactly where they wanted to be.

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter nine

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): mentions of drugging (love potion) and brief mentions of poisoning (like right at the end)

series masterlist; previous part; next part

The library is your sanctuary. A place you can go to ease your mind and satiate your need for more knowledge. Usually you're not disturbed while your here, but Mattheo seemed to find a new joy in persistently annoying you.

You had been completing an essay for Defence that Snape wanted to be completely for two days time, when the calm air around you changed with the announcement of his chaotic presence.

"I thought you had Quidditch practice." you say, not taking your eyes off of your parchment as he takes the empty seat beside you, thigh brushing your's.

"Finished ten minutes ago. I got bored." he says noncommittally. His hand has found it's way to your thigh, tracing barely-there patterns with the tips of his fingers. You tense on instinct before relaxing almost instantaneously.

"Don't you have friends for that?" you snark as you spare him a single glance before you continue working.

"I'm offended that you think we aren't friends, sweetheart." he says with feigned outrage.

"Friends don't do what we do, Matt." you whisper. If it weren't for his already close proximity, he probably would not have heard you. His hand begins tracing firmer patterns, tracing longing lines of comfort.

"No, I suppose they don't." he muses with the ghost of a smile. He's tracing your figure with inquisitive eyes, now a honeyed brown in the sunlight reflecting in the windows.

"Do you want something?" you ask, turning your head to face him, your breath hitching in your throat at just how close he was to you – his lips a fraction of movement away from your's. "We're in public," you say, with a breatheless stammer.

"I'm starting to find that I don't care where we are, anymore." he says just as quietly, eyes flickering between your mouth and fluttering eyes. "What have you done to me?"

"I haven't done anything." you snicker, your nose brushing imperceptibly against his, gaze landing intently on his plush lips.

"We're lucky your favoured spot is so closed off between the shelves, Meadow." he mumbles, his voice dropping to that low rasp you've come to appreciate over the months. "Because that means I can do this, with little consequence."

He kisses you then. Hard and passionate and with entirely too much feeling for something that wasn't supposed to be anymore than a transactional friendship to help out a mutual friend.

~∞~

Much to your delight, Mattheo stayed with you a little longer before the feeling of his quidditch gear, still dirtied from practice, became too much to comfortably bare. He left with a lingering peck to your cheek, something entirely too affectionate for you to properly process.

Not ten minutes later, your solitude was once again interrupted.

"What the hell is going on between you and Riddle?" Ginny's hissing whisper filled the quiet atmosphere, who landed in Mattheo's previously occupied seat with venomous grace.

"Nothing." you say with furrowed brows, lowing the book you were scouring for Siphon lore, to your lap. As far as you knew, Ginny was only aware of your tutor sessions with Mattheo.

But all these weeks of lies and deceit was bound to blow up in your face sooner or later, you just weren't planning on the most ferocious of your friends to figure it out first.

"Don't bullshit me." she snapped, keeping her voice low. "The tutoring sessions? The continued trips to the Room of Requirement? It's so bloody obvious, Meadow."

"I swear. Nothing is going on between me and Riddle." His name felt foreign on your tongue – he hadn't been 'Riddle' to you in months. Ginny only gave you a look that screamed her disbelief in you.

"Right and it wasn't him I saw leaving this little nook about ten minutes ago?"

"How's Dean?" you ask, swiftly averting the subject off of you. She sighs tiredly at your denial and relaxes into the cosy sofa, a contemplative look on her freckled face.

"I think we're over. The relationship is done and dead. We weren't compatible at all." she sounds resolute, but you could tell that she felt the pain of heartbreak. She leans her head on your shoulder and accepts the hug that you wrap her in. "I just wanted to feel something. I've pined for Harry for practically six years but-"

"I know. I know." you comfort her, quietly soothing her as she leans further into your embrace. Ron's younger sister had been a stellar part of your life for as long as you could remember. Her infatuation with your best friend was what prompted a friendship – at first she had been jealous of the attention Harry gave to you but when you confessed that you had a crush on a fellow Ravenclaw, she admitted to liking Harry and you sought to help her in any way you could. Of course the one thing you couldn't remedy was Harry's blatent obliviousness to his surroundings.

"I wouldn't be angry if there was something going on between you and Riddle, by the way." you hear her mumble into your neck. Your eyes involuntarily close with guilt.

You needed to tell someone you could trust in your circle of friends. It had been knawing away at you all this time.

The guilt.

"If you trust Nott and Parkinson as much as you do, and you're willing to be in Riddle's presence, then I trust your judgement." she says, sitting up with red rimmed eyes to look at you. She squeezes the hand that isn't still wrapped around her and that's all it takes for your resolve to crumble.

"Promise you won't freak out." you mumble and she looks at you weirdly before she agrees. With a deep breath, you do what Mattheo had been teaching you, and wordlessly you enter Ginny's mind. You can see the moment she realises what you're doing, but she doesn't flinch away like you expect; she watches you in awe instead.

He's been teaching me to better control my Legillimens abilities. You tell her cautiously. You can feel her disbelief and her curiosity at your words so you continue speaking to her wordlessly.

I've been teaching myself since the end of fourth year when He returned. Theo found out during one of our first patrols last year and that's really how I became better friends with him and Pansy too. Now that- Now that you-know-who is back they- Theo told me that he was going to have Mattheo teach me to do it defensively and keep my mind locked from enemies. In return, I'm going to help them all.

"How are you going to do that?" she says, her whisper so quiet you could barely hear her.

"I don't know, Ginny." you sigh. "With Harry so suspicious of Malfoy, I don't know how I'll convince him that they're on our side."

"Fuck what he thinks." she says, squeezing your hand again. "What your doing could help not only the Order, but it could save them, too. Have you thought about going to Dumbledore?"

"I have but-" you pause, hesitant to share the most vital piece of information you know.

"But what? Is there something else?" she asks, her curious tone edging to something else.

"There is. But you must promise not to tell a soul. Only me and Matt– only me and Riddle know about it. But I think Dumbledore knows– and Remus was acting strange when I asked him for help about it over Christmas."

She motions you to carry on and you know she'll keep her promise because she practically screams it at you mentally.

"I'm a siphon." you say and when Ginny goes to speak you swiftly interrupt her. "I know it sounds bizarre but it's true. Remember when Katie was cursed? I somehow absorbed some of that dark magic and fainted as a result. Mattheo figured it out first and we've been using the tutor sessions as a rouse to research about it."

"Siphons are rare. I don't think I've heard anything other than bedtime stories my mum used to read us when we were little. They're folklore." she says, awed. You sigh and throw your head back against the top of the sofa and groan in frustration.

"We keep getting the same information over and over again. It's incredibly annoying." you admit and you snap your head up when Ginny begins snickering. "What?"

"And how do you alleviate that frustration, Meadow?" she smirks, "A tumble in the Come and Go Room? How scandalous!"

You gape at her, but that only makes her laugh harder; the distant sound of Madame Pince shushing the two of you doesnt help either. "For Rowena's sake Ginny! Stop laughing!" you say but her laughter is infectious and you can't help but join.

"Hey I don't blame you, he's far too attractive for his own good."

Tell me about it. You say with a grumble and she lets out a loud snort that promptly ends with the two of you being kicked out of the sanctuary of the library.

"Your secret is safe with me, Meadow. I promise."

Somehow, admitting your greatest secret to someone lifted a giant weight from your shoulders. Perhaps having someone like Ginny in your corner was a good thing.

~∞~

The Ravenclaw Tower holds an abundance of the best rooms in the whole castle; from the tall ceilings of the common room with constellations painted like glittering sparkles, to a miniature astronomy tower that over looked the Black Lake and the mountainous highlands that surround the castle grounds.

Or maybe you're just biased.

Your dorm room is another place of solace for you. It's a little different to the library, however. Your dorm is place where you find peace and serenity away from the troubles of schoolwork and the stress of keeping up with your friends' woes. Hardly ever are you disrupted once the door to your room is closed off to the outside world, only the occasional murmur of conversation from girls passes by to get to their dorms interrupts the quiet atmosphere.

You needed a break from everything. Harry had somehow managed to go from Professor Slughorn's favourite student to his most failured prodigy after asking him about Horcruxes as per Dumbledore's instruction; Hermione believed that the library had actually failed her when she (and you) had no such luck finding any information about them and Ron appeared to be so wrapped up in his relationship that you rarely saw him outside of lessons and meal times.

It was at times like this that you yearned for Mattheo's presence which scared you half to death. He had been attentive with you as of lately, no longer was he grueling and rough with his Legillimens lessons and he made an effort to help you search for books in the library to aid in your research for your siphon abilities. You hadn't told him about Ginny, but you had a feeling that he just knew somehow that she was now aware of the arrangement.

He had a knack for always knowing everything.

You did feel a little bad, since it was Ron's birthday and you always spent it (and each of your respective birthdays) with the Golden Trio. This year your friendships with them seemed distant and awkward, like the thread holding you altogether was strained and fraying. But when you got a frantic knock on your door to find Harry supporting the intoxicated redhead you call your best friend, you let them in with no hesitation.

"What the hell is wrong with him? Did he have too much to drink? It's not even gone lunchtime." you say frantically as you and Harry turn to watch Ron stare into space with starry eyes.

"The cauldron cakes," Harry muttered tiredly, scraping a hand through his unruly hair, "the ones from Romilda-"

"Romilda? Did you say Romilda, Harry? Where is she?" Ron turned his gaze to you, his eyes wide and unseeing. "Meadow! You're a girl. You must know her, can you introduce me? I love her."

"Merlin's beard." you say incredulously, mouth agape. "He ate the spiked chocolates, didn't he?"

Harry only nodded. "He ate them like ten minutes ago. I don't know what to do."

"Well you're the Potions master, Potter." you say with a grimaced smile and he only glares at you in response. You shake your head. "You'll have to take him to see Professor Slughorn or Madame Pomfrey for an antidote. Better to have someone who knows Potions inside-out to help."

"Okay. Okay yeah– good." Harry stutters as he drags Ron towards your door. "Are you coming?"

"Oh– no I'm doing some research. Or trying to, at least. Still not one mention of Horcruxes in anything I've read." you say as you stand at the threshold of your door. "But tell him I'm never letting him live this down once he's all cured."

An hour later, you eat your words as Ginny bursts into your room with tears streaking down her face. Because someone had poisoned her brother; if not for Harry's quick thinking, he would be dead.

~∞~

a little bit of a short chapter, mostly because its only a filler before shit kicks off 😃😃

more soft matty for you all xxx

taglist:

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @sunasbbie @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @topguncultleader @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne