#like I suddenly felt really homesick | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

floral-and-fine · 1 month ago

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Green and Silver

Prince Nuada Silverlance x fem reader

Fem reader x Adopted siblings Hellboy and Abe

A/n: Sooooo… this has been in my drafts for a little under 2 years 😅 and this week I was determined to just go ahead and finish it. It’s kinda long about 12,800 words and it’s kind of a slow burn. Also I gave the reader plant related powers. Enjoy!

Warnings: lemon and probably a lot of things that don’t go with canon

Summary: The reader is determined to help mediate the conflict between man and magical beings, through her efforts Nuada ends up falling for her.

Entering your old room, a smile graced your lips as you saw that all your plants were alive and well. Someone must have been caring for them in your absence, you thought as you stepped over the healthy vines and roots that had spread over the tile floors. At first you assumed it had been Abe, but seeing how overgrown some of the plants had become, it seemed more likely that Red had been the one watering them.

You worried your lip wondering if maybe he didn’t hate you after all?

Things have always been rocky between the two of you. Constantly butting heads since you were children, always seemingly on opposing sides on certain topics, fighting for father’s attention.

You had always suspected that there was a little jealousy as well. Unlike Red, you could blend in with everyone else, you weren’t forbidden from leaving the compound, or forced to live a life in hiding.

It all came to a boiling point when you made the decision to leave. He wouldn’t look at you when you said goodbye. When he had found out the night before while you were packing up what you could, he was furious and both of you said a lot of things in anger. You immediately regretted it right after.

You left fearing that Red would never speak to you again, but your abilities were better suited out there, not on missions hunting down paranormal enemies.

You wanted to help, really help. You wanted to bring forests back to life and assist in places that had been ravaged by wildfires and deforestation. Staying here felt like you were doing more harm than good.

To make matters worse, shortly after your departure, Liz admitted herself into the hospital and then father died. When you returned to mourn his death with your family, Red tore into you. He blamed you for all of it, claiming if you had been around none of it would have happened.

You hadn’t been back since then.

Looking around your room, you couldn’t help but notice how homesick you had become. So much of your life was spent in this compound. You never intended to be gone for so long.

Your room was designed similar to a greenhouse with a glass ceiling to let in plenty of sunlight. Various sized pots filled with plants and vibrant flower beds lined the walls. Right in the center of the room was a hammock where you used to take midday naps. Your old record player was still sitting on your desk collecting dust along with all your books and art supplies.

Your father had made sure that you, Abe, and Red had some space to yourselves that suited your needs. He always so thoughtful of your individual needs.

You picked up an old frame, wiping the dust away with your sleeve to reveal the photograph under the glass. Your fingers traced over the familiar faces smiling back at you.

You had truly missed them all.

“So,” a voice suddenly spoke up from the entrance of your room. “You really did come back.”

You spun around to see Red leaning against the door frame. You laid the picture back on your desk. “I saw the news… Hellboy is everywhere right now. Thought maybe I could help.”

You swallowed thickly as the two of you stared at each. God, you didn’t think it would be this weird and tense, but simply being in the same room didn’t feel right. You wished you knew what else to say to fix it, but you got the feeling he didn’t want to talk.

“Well guess that’s it, I just wanted to see it for myself,” he shrugged and turned away, heading back down the hall.

All you could do was watch, wondering if it would ever be like it used to.

…

“He spoke to me at least,” you sighed, shoulders slumping while you sat on the edge of Abe’s tank with your feet dangling in the water. “I honestly expected worse, another screaming match or something like that.”

Abe’s head bobbed in the water as he swam closer to you and noticed how your frown deepened, “And that makes you… more upset?”

You groaned, throwing your head back, “I know, I know, it sounds crazy, but if he had yelled and maybe even slammed a few doors too, it would’ve felt more normal, more like it used to be.”

Abe chuckled a little, “Yes, I suppose you’re right. The yelling would be far more familiar.”

It was true that you and Red growing up always seemed to be fighting or arguing. It was just the nature of your relationship while Abe and Professor Broom were the mediators. Which was why it was so unnerving to be treated like a stranger, so coldly, by the person you had come to think of as your brother.

“I’m glad Liz is back,” you added. “She’s always been good at keeping him more level headed.”

“Me too,” Abe nodded, carefully climbing out of his tank. “And I’m glad you're back as well.”

“Got somewhere to be?” You asked.

“Director Manning is bringing in someone new,” he explained. “I believe he wanted the entire team to be present for introductions.”

“Ah, I see.”

“You could join us, if you’d like,” Abe offered, putting on his goggles and breathing collar.

“I probably shouldn’t, I’m not officially back,” you sighed, rising to your feet. “Pretty sure the government still wants these types of things confidential.”

You walked with Abe down the stairs, your wet feet leaving behind dark footprints on the red carpet. You smiled at him as he left the room.

Without much else to do, you made yourself comfortable in the library. About an hour or so later, you were curled up in one of the arm chairs invested in a first edition copy of ‘The Time Machine.’

Immediately you perked up when you heard everyone bustling about and on the move.

“What’s going on?” You asked, setting your book aside and standing.

“We’re loading up,” Red stated without his usual enthusiasm. “To go on a goddamn wild goose chase,” he added with a scowl.

You furrowed your brow giving Abe and Liz a confused look.

“We’re going to the east end of the Brooklyn Bridge,” Liz explained while going in for a quick hug. “It’s good to see you,” she added.

You hugged her back. “The Troll Market…?” You questioned, putting it together. “Thought we gave up on that myth.”

You heard Red snort loudly, “Yeah, but this time will be different.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head as someone new approached you.

“Ah! You must be Ms. Y/n,” the strange figure said with a thick German accent. He was dressed in a suit that resembled vintage deep sea diving gear. “I am Dr. Kraus,” he introduced himself.

Your eyes widened for a second, realizing that there was no head or face beneath the helmet, just a strange mist. “Uh, yes, nice to meet you,” you half smiled.

“Will you be joining us?” He asked eagerly. “On the mission?”

Your eyes flickered to Red who seemed irritated but not completely against it.

“I suppose I could.”

“Fantastic,” Dr. Kraus clapped his hands. “I look forward to seeing your abilities for myself. I have read extensive dossiers on all of the team, including you,” the doctor explained. “Your powers seem quite… intriguing.”

“Why would you read my file?” You inquired. “No one knew I was coming back, and technically I might be here but I’m not with BPRD anymore.”

“Ah, yes, but you see I’ve heard stories about your missions from a good friend,” he explained. “So I asked for information that pertained to all of you.”

You looked at the doctor uneasy, before following the back of the group as they made their way to the hangar.

Arriving at the destination, agents filed out of vehicles and began prepping the area with practiced efficiency. Liz directed them where to install the cameras while Red and Abe discussed plans with Dr. Kraus. You tried your best to stay out of the way, simply resigning yourself to observe everyone else at work.

“Aren’t you going to go with them?” Liz asked as she grabbed the bird cage that held a little canary.

You shook your head, “I think it’s best if I stayed here. I don’t want to press my luck or step on any toes.”

Liz pursed her lips and nodded, “It’ll get better y’know, Red just needs time.”

“Yeah, I hope you’re right.” As much as you wanted to be part of the action, just like in the good old days, you knew Red already had enough on his plate as he unwillingly adjusted to Dr. Kraus’s lead.

“Help Manning keep an eye on things,” she instructed with a slight eye roll. “I’ll be back shortly.”

You looked back at Director Manning who was still completely astonished that the little old lady was actually a troll.

“What a hideous creature,” he muttered to himself, staring at the monitors. Eventually he peeled his eyes away and turned to look at you, seemingly forgetting what he was going to say as he saw you through the lenses of the Schufftein glasses.

You lifted your brow, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“You’re… very glowy,” he answered, somewhat entranced.

You chuckled, “Thanks.”

His eyes followed the swirls of green that traveled along your figure like vines.

“Better keep watching the fragglewump,” you suggested with a small smirk.

“Yes, of course, you’re absolutely right,” he said, turning his chair back around.

You, Liz and Manning stayed behind, keeping an eye on surveillance. Over the radio, Red shared how amazing the troll market was. A part of you wished you had gone with them, but it was too late now. Maybe one day you’d be fortunate enough to return and see it for yourself.

With a heavy sigh Liz stood up and left the back of the truck.

“Everything alright?” You asked her, immediately joining her outside.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she muttered, fidgeting with her hair then her jacket.

“Liz,” you said gently, knowing her well enough to see that something was bothering her.

She rubbed her forehead and took a deep breath releasing it slowly. “I’m pregnant,” she admitted.

“Oh,” you blinked in surprise. “Oh wow, that’s huge!”

“Yeah, tell me about it. I still can’t believe it myself.”

“Who else knows?”

“Just you and Abe right now,” she answered, kicking some gravel away with her boot. “I can’t seem to find the right time to tell Red.”

The two of you stood side by side watching cars and pedestrians passing just taking in the moment. You couldn’t be happier for Liz and Red. Your small family was getting a little bigger which was also a comforting thought especially after so much loss.

“Ah!” You suddenly shouted, unintentionally scaring Liz in the process as you started jumping beside her. “I’m going to be an aunt!”

She laughed, “Yeah, I guess you will be. I hadn’t really thought about things like that.”

“I’m so excited! We’re all going to love this kid!” You promised.

After making sure she was good, you returned to the truck giving Liz some space, not to mention you knew leaving Manning alone wasn’t the best idea. He wasn’t what anyone would call helpful in an actual crisis.

…

The BPRD truck rocked and swayed as the ground below started to rumble.

Curious if it was just a tremor, Liz opened the doors to the truck, Director Manning stepped back as you and Liz walked out onto the street to see what was going on.

For a brief second everything stilled, everyone’s eyes searched the surrounding area collectively wondering if it was over. Then suddenly the road abruptly cracked like an egg with large thick vines breaking free.

Automatically you recognized that the creature was plant like, leaves covered its body and its head reminded you of a closed flower bud. For a moment you simply took it in, amazed that such a creature existed.

People began screaming and fleeing from their vehicles as the green monster further sprouted from the ground almost resembling a beanstalk.

You remained entranced as strangers ran past you, until Red retrieved a large gun affectionately nicknamed ‘Big Baby’ from the truck's armory.

“Wait! Please!” You pleaded, placing a hand on Red’s arm. “Let me try to reason with it.”

“Are you out of your mind? Look at that thing!” Director Manning argued from the back of the truck.

You ignored him, instead looking at Hellboy for permission.

“You got 2 minutes, Green,” Red instructed as he continued to load his gun. “After that, I’m going in for the kill.”

You stared up at the massive creature, its tentacle-like limbs thrashing around it. The green glow from its center and head was similar to your own, you wondered if it was like you? Would you be able to control it like other plants even though it was sentient?

It was funny to think that you might have more in common with this forest god than you did with anyone else on the planet.

You shrugged off your sweater, dropping it to the ground. Your eyes began to glow as you slowly approached the creature with your hand outstretched. Swirls of glimmering green light traveled down your arms to your palms.

Its flesh felt smooth, waxy, and cold but there was also a subtle pulse beating beneath your hand. Looking up at what you believed was its face, you met its glowing eyes which were warm and very much alive.

The beast howled, using one of its long tendrils to swat a helicopter away.

“Please stop,” you begged. “I don’t want them to hurt you.”

Another tendril came slamming down too close for comfort, successfully smashing a car flat.

“Listen!” You yelled at it. “They’ll kill you.”

You could sense its rage and its fear as it screeched and wailed, thrashing about. It didn’t recognize this world. Where were the tall trees, the giants, the other gods?

“The world has changed,” you said softly. “I’m sorry, this isn’t your world anymore.”

Its body slumped as it whined at you, head tilting to the side.

“It’ll be alright.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s time for you to rest,” you urged.

The creature’s glowing eyes dimmed as it started to fold in upon itself slowly, almost as if it was falling asleep. It started to shrink back down almost in the same fashion when it sprang from the earth, until finally it was a small seed again,

You crumpled to your knees, your own soft green glow fading as the danger seemed to pass. Examining the still crowded street, you noted the damage it caused, it was severe but it could’ve been much worse. A large breach remained in the ground, the cars that were the closest were crumpled like cans.

You cupped the seed in your palm. It was frightening to think that all you had to do was add some water to grow a huge plant monster from this little bean.

“You didn’t destroy the forest god,” the princess said in complete awe, kneeling beside you.

“I couldn’t let it be killed,” you explained, still admiring the seed. “I’ve never seen anything so terrifying yet so beautiful before.”

“That’s quite accurate,” she smiled. “The gods were the Givers of Life and the Destroyers.”

You looked over your shoulder, all the rest of the team and the other FBI agents were busy dealing with crowd control.

You turned towards Princess Nuala offering her the seed.“Here, you probably know more about it than any of us do,” you said, but in all honesty, you just didn’t want it to end up in Director Manning’s hands or the FBI’s. The BPRD already had enough trophies.

The princess looked at you full of curiosity, carefully accepting it and tucking it away in her dress. “Thank you.”

You stood up and joined the rest of the group.

Dr. Kraus informed you that the casualties were minimal considering all the destruction caused in such a short period of time.

Your eyes met Red’s who gave you a nod of approval before you all departed to return home.

…

“Hello, my lovelies,” you greeted your plants as you shuffled into your room after a long hot shower. Dressed in a long silk robe, you strolled past all your ferns and flowers, reaching around to turn on the irrigation system near the wall. “There we go,” you hummed as water slowly started to trickle out.

Stretching your arms over your head, you approached your hammock and climbed in, reclining on your back with one of your legs hanging off. Using your foot, you pushed it against the floor, gently rocking yourself.

Laying there, you admired the night sky, watching thin wispy clouds floating across the full moon. Your mind drifted back to the forest god, Nuala had mentioned that it was the last of its kind. You started imagining a world full of magical beings like that, it seemed wondrous. Perhaps you made the right choice coming back. You were happy that you saved it.

You squinted once you realized you were absentmindedly humming along to a Barry Manilow song. Swinging your leg over the edge of the hammock, you sat up. The music seemed to be coming from below.

Your feet softly padded through your room towards the door, wondering who in the world was blaring ‘Can’t Smile Without You’ this late at night.

Focused on the music you allowed it to lead you through the halls. You and Red almost ran into each other, stopping outside the golden doors. You both stared awkwardly at each other.

He had an open can of Tecate in one hand and the rest of the six-pack in the other. He sniffed, eyes darting to the door, “Wanna see what the hell is going on in there?”

You nodded, but as soon as he pushed the large doors open the music changed, going from Barry Manilow to a classical piece.

“Ah,” Abe said, jumping a little, clearly not expecting the sudden intrusion. “Hello Red and y/n, you’re both up late.”

“What are you listening to?” Red grumbled.

“Oh, uh, Vivaldi,” Abe answered quickly. “Il cimento dell’armonia.”

You narrowed your eyes and shook your head, “Don’t play dumb. I distinctly recall hearing Manilow just a few seconds ago.”

“Not here, I’m afraid,” Abe said sheepishly.

“Hey,” Red said accusingly, pointing at Abe while stumbling forward. “What’s that?”

“It’s just a remote.”

Red’s eyes moved to Abe’s other hand.

“Oh, this, yes…” Abe mumbled revealing the CD case.

You peeked over Red’s shoulder, reading the title out loud, “Popular Love Songs?”

You and Red had completely different reactions as it dawned on you both.

“You fell for the Princess?” You and him asked at the same time. Red appeared to be in total disbelief while you looked utterly delighted.

Abe sat on the steps in front of the fireplace as he delved into the details of his growing crush. Both you and Red joined him, sitting by his sides.

“You’re in love,” Red announced. “Have a beer.”

Abe tried to politely decline but Red wasn’t having it, practically thrusting the can into Abe’s hand.

Red sighed, freeing another beer from the plastic rings and looked at you, “And well, you’re back, so you get one too.”

You graciously accepted Red’s version of an olive branch, cracking open the can and taking a sip.

“So what track?” he asked, returning to the reason that brought the three of you together tonight.

“Eight,” Abe answered, then explained his love and connection to this particular song. Lifting the remote, he clicked a button and ‘Can’t Smile Without You’ began to play again.

“I wish father were here,” Red confessed, taking another drink of his beer. “He’d know what to tell you… us.”

The sentiment was one you all shared. Each of you were facing new problems, dealing with complicated feelings of loss and love. Professor Broom always looked out for the three of you, offering advice and guiding with a gentle hand.

Abe began to sway with the music, singing along with the lyrics. You weren’t sure if it was the beer or the music, but soon you and Red both joined in belting with him.

You couldn’t quite recall the last time the three of you hung out like this. Red, Blue, and Green back together again, it felt right.

Eventually you parted ways, the boys leaving to get more beer and talk about their girl troubles while you retreated back to your room. Your heart and mind felt lighter now, your relationship with Red seemed to be on the mend, relieving you of a weight that had been crushing your spirit for too long.

…

“How did they stop it?” Nuada asked as he flipped through another book before tossing it aside. “How were they able to return the forest god to a seed?”

Nuala's eyes briefly darted to the red emergency button on the wall before answering her brother.

“One of them was able to… speak to it.” She wasn’t sure if that’s exactly how it worked, it seemed more as though you had willed it back into its dormant form. It was a curious thing, you like so many of the others she had encountered here were so strange and unique, to be able to have control of such a powerful and ancient being was truly impressive.

Nuada snapped another book shut, “They spoke to it?”

“I’m not sure how else to describe it,” she said, shrugging her shoulders slightly.

“Where is it now?” Nuada pressed.

“I have it.”

“They returned it to you?” He asked skeptically, furrowing his brow.

Nuala nodded, reaching into a pocket of her dress and revealing the green seed. “They trust me,” she responded. “They have been… better than I expected, kind and honest.”

Nuada scoffed, casting aside another book. “Do not do this, it won’t work,” he turned his head away, sneering. “I will never trust their kind or the ones that help them.” He carelessly grabbed another book before dropping it on the floor with the others.

“I’m simply telling you what happened,” she argued. “The one who saved the forest god didn’t want to see it destroyed, she said it was beautiful.”

Nuada paused, fingers resting on the spine of another book, deep down he was glad that the elemental wasn’t killed. It was, unfortunately, the last of its kind, perhaps using it was selfish of him. If they would have killed it instead, its death would have weighed heavily upon him. An entire race would have been completely eradicated and he would’ve been the culprit who ordered the last one to die.

That was the last thing he wanted, there was already so little of his world left to save. When he closed his eyes he could still picture the world as it was, how it should be.

“Perhaps you can give these people a chance,” Nuala reasoned.

“No,” Nuada said sharply. “The Golden Army is the only way.” He had already sacrificed too much to give up now, killed his own father, lost his good friend, Mr. Wink.

Upon hearing the conviction in her brother’s voice, she knew that her words could not sway him without any other options, Nuala quickly pressed the emergency button.

…

You were laying on your bed, warm and relaxed, your eyelids heavy and your body drained. You hazily dreamt about giant magnificent creatures and exploring the wonders within the troll market. Red had mentioned how incredible it was, how every creature, no matter how strange, walked freely without stares or causing a commotion.

Ever since you were little, you found yourself longing for a place that encapsulated the best of both worlds, a place that balanced the ordinary and the fantastical. It was an intangible dream that slipped through your fingers like dust or smoke.

Suddenly alarms began to blare and red lights above flashed. You sprang up and scrambled out of bed, almost tripping on your silk robe as you ran towards the door.

But you stopped midstep, taking a second to think things through. Swiftly turning back around you opted to use the exit that led straight to the library.

You ran down the narrow spiral staircase, taking two steps at a time, hoping you wouldn’t be too late.

Everything seemed to stop when you stumbled down the steps past Abe’s tank and saw the scene unfold before you, a white haired man with a silver spear was preparing to strike while Red was distracted.

You acted without thinking, grabbing the man from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist tightly as you tried with all your might to hold him back. All you knew was that you had to stop this man from killing your brother.

Your fingers curled over his chest and you planted your feet firmly on the floor, you acted as an anchor using all your weight against him.

Vines sprouted from your hands, they twisted around his arms curling around his fingers right before the spear could plunge into Red’s chest.

Nuada’s eyes went wide, he couldn’t budge. He felt the warmth of your person pressed against him. Looking down at your hands on his chest and waist, his eyes followed the vines. He could barely wiggle his pinky finger within the fabricated restraints.

As he recovered from his stupor, he found himself amused by such a brazen tactic. He could feel your heart pounding in your chest and your breath tickling his neck.

It was a desperate move but effective.The prince suspected that you could keep him bound like this with ease if you chose.

Abe quickly tended to the Princess. While Red rose to his feet and dusted himself off. Confidently he approached Nuada, his glare was full of fury while his stone hand curled into a tight fist by his side.

The men didn’t exchange a single word as they stared at each other. Eventually, Red turned his attention to you. “You did good, Green.”

…

With his arms now bound behind his back, Nuada sat silently in an interrogation room. His face was expressionless like a stone statue. Even with his current status as a prisoner, there was an air of superiority.

He stared at you coolly from across the table. His yellow eyes had already analyzed his surroundings and now were focused on you.

You were different from the Red one, far less aggressive with calm eyes and a peaceful presence. He doubted the demon would have sat in silence as patiently as you had.

“I get it, you know,” you started quietly. “That’s what makes this whole situation so complicated, because your motivations make sense, they’re relatable wanting to protect your people, your way of life.”

Nuada curled his lips in disdain, he didn’t want your sympathies, pity, or your ‘understanding.’

“We aren’t blind to the blight you and your people face,” you pointed out. “All fae folk deserve better. If only we-“

“How would you know?” He seethed, interrupting you. “Your world isn’t the one that’s vanishing!”

You shook your head, “Like my brother, I’m caught between worlds, while I’ve come to love humanity for what it is, my true home is in nature… and with that I’ve had to bear witness to mankind’s abuse to the natural world-”

You closed your eyes, anger from years past resurfacing. You had dealt with your own internal struggle, hoping to find a balance between the man made world and the natural world.

“If I could I would change the hearts of man, make them all see what’s truly important, what’s really at stake here.”

Nuada narrowed his eyes. “So…” he drawled, putting the pieces together. “You’re the one that spared the forest god.”

“And you’re the one that sent it to die for your cause,” you retorted, more heatedly than you intended.

He looked guilty for an instant, eyes downcasted, “My people, our way of life, this is the only way I can save them… the truce between mankind and elves has only brought us loss.”

“If I’ve learned anything,” you sighed. “It’s that you can’t blame humans for their nature, not when you have lived for thousands of years, while a human life is so quick and fleeting,” you explained. “With such little time, it makes sense that they’d act with the greed and selfishness of a child. Even in old age they are practically children.”

“You speak as though you are not human,” Nuada noted.

You glanced at your hands, anyone who simply looked at you would assume that you were human just like them, but you weren’t and unfortunately you didn’t have any answers as to what you were or how you came to be.

“I don’t know what I am,” you said without divulging any additional information.

You leaned forward on the table. “Give us a chance to help, to find another way, no more lives lost… no more races or species extinguished.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping, not in defeat but in exhaustion. All he wanted was to save his people, and somehow that goal became twisted and sour.

“What do you propose?” He asked, sounding broken. “My people have given up, the Golden Army was the single source of hope that I had clung to… I see no other way.”

“We change the truce,” you suggested. “We create a way for both species- for all species to thrive.”

Nuada’s eyes flickered to yours, still not convinced, “You make it sound so simple.”

…

“Prince Nuada has made it clear,” Manning shared exasperatedly. “He won’t work with anyone else but you.”

You could feel the blame and judgment radiating from Manning, he didn’t like this deal and neither did his superiors, but the prince’s threat of the Golden Army was still very real. Rocking the boat, especially after your ‘negotiations’ would surely lead to war.

Manning leaned back in his chair, “We could use this to our advantage,” he considered. “You can gain his trust… and simply take the crown pieces when he least expects it.”

You immediately rose to your feet. “Ugh, I can’t believe you people sometimes, always looking for an easy way out, instead of doing what is actually right,” you spat. “Maybe the prince has a point…”

“Oh come on now agent-”

“I’m not an agent,” you reminded him, eyes narrowed. “I don’t follow your orders or your commands. I’m going to do what’s right.”

You stared daggers at the man, not hiding your hostility towards him, “They had the opportunity to eliminate humanity a millennia ago, instead of proving them right, maybe we should focus on proving them wrong… the truce needs to change.”

“I agree with Ms. Y/n,” Dr. Kraus said. “I’ll contact my superiors at Interpol. We should all work together on this.”

You excused yourself from the meeting, feeling frustrated and angry despite Dr. Kraus’s support. No wonder Nuada had no hope, that the only solution he could see was eradicating all of humanity.

Even you had to remind yourself that not every single person was like Manning. Somehow, someway, you wanted to bring all magical beings out of the shadows, give them a place where they could exist, where they could strive.

You threw open the doors to the library, ready to share all your grievances with Abe but unfortunately he wasn’t inside. Instead you found Red.

“Hey,” he started slightly startled by your abrupt entrance.

“Hey,” you muttered back, your fists still tightly clenched by your side.

“So, it looks like the meeting went well,” he joked, noting your tense body language. He knew it took a lot to make you this mad, but once you were, it was like setting off a bomb.

You rolled your eyes and began pacing the room. “I can’t believe those idiots are in charge!”

He nodded, all too familiar with it. He missed the days when father was around to handle all the administrative crap.

“They’re all absolute imbeciles, literally the worst!” You continued to rant. “I hate all the red tape and bureaucratic bullshit… Can you believe that Manning suggested I try to steal the crown pieces? After all this? I manage to find a peaceful solution and he’d rather I betray the elves because it’s easier… the selfish bastard! I’m so glad I left!”

You stopped in your tracks and sighed, recalling how Red and Abe were practically stuck here, trapped into being part of the BPRD. “I’m sorry Red, I’m so sorry for leaving you and Abe here to deal with this alone.”

He shrugged, “y’know I’ve given it some thought and I figured if given the chance, if I could blend in like you, I’d probably would’ve left a long time ago.”

“Still,” you added, taking a seat next to him. “I wish things were different.”

For a while you and Red sat, sharing stories and memories of the good old days before drifting into a comfortable silence. Eventually, you retired to your room. Unsure what to expect over the next few weeks or months or however long this ‘mission’ took.

First things first, you’ll be accompanying Nuada back to his clan’s palace. Maybe you should start packing a bag, you wondered. It was strange, you had just arrived and now you were leaving again, at least Red wasn’t pissed at you this time. In fact, he had already agreed to keep watering your plants.

You stood there admiring your plant babies, thinking back to how you acquired most of them. Professor Broom would come home from some mission with a pleased look on his face as he gifted you a single seed from wherever he had been. Every time you were so eager to see what would grow, you loved them all as much as you loved your father.

A knock at your door snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Princess Nuala?” You asked, surprised to see her at your door. You stepped aside, allowing her into your room.

Her eyes lit up as she saw all the green. “Incredible,” she whispered, her fingers brushing over the delicate petals of a gardenia.

“Thank you,” you murmured, watching as she took in your little version of paradise.

“I heard that my brother has agreed to work with you,” she shared, redirecting her attention from all your plants to you.

“For now, at least,” you sighed, still feeling overwhelmed. “I’m pushing for the terms of the truce to be upheld as well as updated,” you added. “Magical beings need more, deserve more…”

Nuala smiled, “An ambitious plan, but I’m sure you’ll find support from our people.”

“I hope so. We’ll need all fae folk to be willing to give this a try.” Although in truth, what concerned you the most was making sure the officials of the BPRD held up their end of the deal.

“I believe you’re quite capable of accomplishing this. Abraham speaks highly of you,” she said.

“He’s a good brother that’s why,” you chuckled. “He has a lot more faith in me than I do.”

“The three of you are quite close,” Nuala noted.

You nodded, “We’ve always been there for each other, without them, without our adoptive father, we’d each be all alone.”

Nuala’s eyes returned to your exceptional garden. It reminded her of how the world used to be, back when her people lived in the forests and the wilds.

“Here, I want you to have this,” she said, holding out her piece of the crown.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I can’t.”

Nuala held the piece out closer to you. “You were the one who convinced my brother to choose another path, you spared the life of an ancient being,” she explained. “I believe you’ve earned it.”

“I don’t feel right accepting it,” you muttered, eyeing the piece of gold in her hand.

“All the more reason for it to be in your care,” she countered.

Finally, you relented and accepted the crown piece, tucking it into your pocket until you could find a safer place for it. One thing was for sure, you wouldn’t be letting Manning know about this exchange.

“Will you be coming with us?” You asked the Princess.

She shook her head, “I’ll be staying here for now. Especially considering that your people still believe that I have the last crown piece.”

She gave you a knowing look, showing that she already understood that people like Manning couldn’t be trusted. “With me here, they’ll feel more… in control, I believe if I were to leave they’d assume I’d eventually betray them and help my brother awaken the Golden Army.”

…

Arriving at the palace it was nothing like what you pictured in your mind. You expected bright halls and lush gardens, but instead it was dark, gloomy, lifeless. You could practically feel the oppression outside these walls pushing in, the constant threat of humans looming over them.

Nuada didn’t exactly look happy to be back, his facial expression was rigid and tight. However, the feeling seemed mutual. The elves who were present for his homecoming didn’t receive him with open arms, in fact there was a wariness in the air as they kept their distance from the prince.

You could feel their cautious stares fall upon you as you stepped forward to introduce yourself. The silence was unnerving, you could hear your heart beating anxiously in your ears.

You exhaled slowly, trying your best to relax. “Hello, I’m y/n, I’m with the BPRD and we’re hoping to work with you and other fae folk in an effort to uphold the truce.”

Nuada sighed, then quickly spoke up, reiterating what you said in elvish or at least you hoped that’s what he did.

You mustered up your best smile and the rest of your confidence and continued to explain the plan, going into how you wanted to improve the life for all magical beings. You watched as their expressions changed, from anxious to curious. A few elves worked up the nerve to speak to Nuada, probably asking him questions about what transpired and if you could be trusted.

Your gaze moved upwards, watching discolored leaves fall. “What’s wrong with the leaves?” You asked yourself, but Nuada overheard you.

“The tree is dying,” he answered simply.

“Can I see it?”

Nuada hesitated, closing his eyes for a moment, before nodding. He gestured for you to follow him.

He walked at a fast pace making it difficult to keep up. As you struggled to follow him, the rest of the palace passed as a blur. Suddenly, he came to a halt at the entrance of a rather barren courtyard. Looking at what remained, you could tell it had once been a lush garden, full of wildflowers, ferns, and shrubs.

Despite Nuada being difficult to read, he seemed bothered by the state of the garden. His gaze was hard as he tried to look past the dead land as if he didn’t want to acknowledge just how bad it had gotten.

In the center was a magnificent old tree with a thick and tall trunk and sprawling branches. However, even from a distance, you could see the tree was sick, the bark was discolored and flaking. Some of the branches were brittle and dry. Just looking at it made your own bones ache.

“May I?” You asked quietly.

Nuada shrugged, approaching the tree with you.

One of the elves suddenly spoke up, sounding rather peeved that Nuada brought you here, but the prince was quick to put the elf back in his place, with a sharp and direct order.

You could sense the web of roots under your feet, they were desperately trying to keep the tree alive. You circled the wide tree trunk, dead leaves crunching with each step you took.

Rolling up your sleeves, thin green spirals appeared on your arms as the light moved towards your hands, making them glow. You pressed your palms to the trunk of the tree. Instantly, you felt what you could only describe as a thirst. Your powers felt like a cool spring as your energy bled into the tree.

After several silent moments, you lifted your hands from the tree.

Long thin branches grew and cascaded down like curtains, shielding you and Nuada within. You watched in awe as small green leaves fluttered down like rain underneath the canopy. The entire courtyard was revived, new grass and plants filled the once barren ground. Clusters of wild flowers bloomed around your feet and climbed up the trunk of the tree.

While you were distracted by the surrounding beauty, Nuada continued to watch you, his stare focused and determined. Quiet, with a hunter-like pace, he crept closer towards you.

He didn’t understand it, he didn’t understand you. It was like beholding a miracle.

You blinked in surprise when you realized how close Nuada was. His expression was unreadable as he observed your face, his own merely inches away from yours.

Your eyes widened as his hand rose towards your face. You gasped when his fingers lightly touched your hair, retrieving a single leaf that had landed on the crown of your head.

He held your gaze for a moment, his mouth opening slightly only to snap shut.

“Prince Nuada,” you said softly, somehow finding your voice. The leaf fell from his fingers landing gently on the grass.

But the moment was broken as the murmurs of the other elves grew closer, they spoke to one another in awe, examining your work closely.

Immediately, Nuada backed away.

A few elves that spoke English, eagerly engaged you in conversation. They were all obviously delighted with what you had done, it was as if you had revived their spirits along with that old tree.

Nuada followed behind as a group showed you around the rest of the palace. They discussed preparing a big feast for later in the evening to celebrate your arrival and the new parameters of the truce.

…

Lilting music filled the dining room as trays of food were brought out. Your eyes widened over all the options, each dish was executed artistically, looking more like artwork than food.

Nuada leaned towards you, filling your glass almost to the brim with a deep red wine. Then stood up and raised his own glass. All eyes were on him as he made a simple toast to new beginnings.

You noted a subtle change in his mood from when you first arrived. He was more relaxed now, conversing casually with his subjects as he ate. He was also unexpectedly attentive towards you, checking if you were alright, translating for you mid conversation when needed, and telling you about elven culture.

You suspected that he missed this, missed being a prince during his exile. It wasn’t that the hardened warrior side of him had vanished, instead another side of him had emerged. This side of him was charming, social, an ambassador capable of persuading even the most stubborn leaders.

It was quite refreshing to get this opportunity to laugh and speak with him and not worry about all the pressures you had been feeling all day.

After dinner, everyone began filing out, one of the servants stayed behind and offered to show you to your quarters, but Nuada dismissed them.

He led you out and towards one of the wings of the palace and up a grand staircase. “You did well today,” he commented as you walked a step behind him.

“Thank you.”

“In a few days we will be hosting officials representing the goblins and trolls in order to inform them of these changes.”

You nodded.

“Until then the palace is available to you, think of it as your home, free to explore and entertain yourself, I recommend visiting the library and the gardens.” He stopped outside of a room, opening the door and stepping aside to let you in.

Standing on opposite sides of the doorway, Nuada looked at you for a moment before adding, “Should you need anything feel free to ask, as your host, it’s the least I can do.”

You grinned at the formality of his words and the change in his behavior compared to your first encounter.

He lifted his brow, giving you a questioning look in return. “What?”

“Sorry,” you smiled wider. “Just didn’t think I’d get the opportunity to see you be so… accommodating.”

He rolled his eyes and turned away. “Goodnight,” he said while heading further down the hall to his own room.

…

You paced around the library, occasionally selecting a tome and perusing its contents before returning it. You were in desperate need of a distraction from how anxious you were feeling, but nothing seemed to work.

All morning the only thing you could think about was the meeting taking place later today. There was a lot of pressure to make all this work, pressures from the BPRD as well as hopeful expectations of the elves.

It was up to you to get the trolls and goblins on board with this plan. Despite how much faith people seemed to have in you, you never saw yourself cut out for all this diplomacy. Fortunately, Nuada would be there, he seemed to have a lot of experience with this sort of thing, and you were grateful for it.

“Lady y/n,” a servant called, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yes?”

“It’s almost time for the summit,” she explained. “You should get dressed.”

“Oh, of course,” you nodded.

As you returned to your room, you found a sage green dress waiting for you on the bed. The dress had a similar shape and design to the ones Nuala wore with a lovely band of gold along the waist. Lifting it up, you noted the weight of it.

“How many layers does this dress have?” You wondered out loud, unsure how you were going to get it all on.

You did your best, struggling more than you’d like to admit, as you changed into the dress. You recalled all those movies that showed aristocratic women getting dressed and how they always had a servant around them to help, it made a lot more sense now.

You exited the dressing room and examined yourself in the mirror, fixing a few areas around the collar to show off the fine embroidery and checking your hair.

Nuada stood a few feet away from the doorway, taking a moment to admire you without you noticing. He was satisfied to see the color he picked suited you so well, and that the style of the dress .

Finally, he rapped his knuckles against the door alerting you of his presence.

You tilted your head blinking curiously when you noticed what he was wearing, it was a small change, but instead of his usual black and red ensemble, it was black and green, the same shade of green as your dress.

“It’s time to go,” he announced. “Our guests aren’t known for their patience.”

“Oh right,” you nodded, quickly following him out.

Nuada led the way, his hands clasped behind his back as you walked a few steps behind him. Without being asked, he slowed his pace, matching it to yours, his pace going from a brisk march to a casual stroll just for you.

“Any tips?” You asked him as you both stopped outside the thick oak doors.

He smirked, his eyes lighting up playfully compared to their usual seriousness, “Afraid they’ll be immune to your charms?”

“Charms?” You questioned, blinking. “I don’t believe my ‘charms’ have ever worked in my favor.”

“They were certainly effective on my people,” Nuada elaborated.

You laughed, “You’re confusing charm with skill, I believe I impressed them with my powers.”

Nuada shook his head, “It’s more than that, it’s the way you speak and act… you’re…” he paused, mulling over his next words carefully. “Endearing, genuine.”

You looked surprised at the compliment, “I didn’t know they felt that way.”

“That surprises you? Even after you won m-“ Nuada stopped himself from finishing that statement.

He cleared his throat, “Goblins like precious metals and gems, intricate devices and designs, and of course flattery. Trolls are not as bright as other creatures, they prefer honest loyal people who are clear with their intentions. Speak too fast or too complex, they’ll immediately distrust you.”

“Flattery and honesty, I can do that. Thank you,” You nodded, letting it all sink in as the doors slowly opened revealing the large throne room.

Nuada chuckled, “Are you sure you’re not royalty?” The prince smoothed his hands over his attire and pushed his shoulders back. The stern expression that you were most familiar with returning to his face.

“My friends,” Nuada greeted. “I am pleased to see you all here in good health.”

Trolls occupied one side of the room, while the goblins sat at the other, yet all eyes fell on you as you emerged, standing at the prince's side. The high ceilings looked small compared to the giant mountain trolls that managed to cram themselves into the back of the room.

“Allow me to introduce our guest, representing humanity as their ambassador, Lady y/n.”

Unsure what the proper etiquette was for a situation like this one was, you nervously bowed as Prince Nuada finished introducing you.

You followed Nuada as he made his rounds, personally introducing you to important goblin and troll figures. He tried his best to conceal his amusement as he watched you quickly put his advice to work, easily charming various goblins and trolls with a smile and a few simple words.

“She’s not as human as I expected.” Nuada overheard one of the goblins share with his comrade. His smile grew at the comment, glad he had trusted you so far and that the others were beginning to recognize that you were something special.

Gently taking hold of your upper arm, Nuada guided you back to the front of the room. As you crept up the steps, a hush fell over the room. All in attendance were eager to hear what you had to say.

Nuada stood behind you, his hands clasped behind his back allowing you to address the whole group.

You explained the changes that had been made to the truce, specifically the part that specified that each magical species would be granted land that suited their needs. You added that the mountain region that had been granted would need to be shared or divided amongst the goblins and trolls.

There were some murmurs amongst them, but it didn’t sound as though they were completely against the idea.

Nuada stepped in from there, answering questions and directing the two groups on what to do next. It was obvious to you that this man was meant to be a leader, it seemed to come to him so easily.

“This could actually work,” he murmured thoughtfully, chin resting in his hand as he watched the trolls and goblins discuss the terms of sharing a territory and rather peacefully in fact.

You smiled and nodded, “it will work.”

…

Over the next few weeks, you traveled to several hidden fae cities and communities with Nuada. Similar to the Troll Market, all sorts of beings congregated in secret, hidden from humanity. You were amazed by the ingenuity of the fae folk and how they managed to find a way to endure, although you knew full well that this situation wasn’t ideal.

Nuada actually seemed excited to bring you along, getting to show you all these unique places that existed right under the noses of humans. And despite his somber appearance, he also seemed to be in high spirits over the plan, over the restoration of the palace, and the allegiances being formed.

To your surprise, you had actually enjoyed these past few weeks with him. He demonstrated that he was more than a warrior, that he was also an intellectual who had interests in engineering and art, and that underneath it all was a man that simply cared for those he viewed as his people, elves and other creatures.

You had worried that working with him was going to be difficult to say the least, that you would have to listen to long lectures about everything wrong with humanity. Instead, he had focused his efforts to unite the fae and become a true leader for his people. He often spoke of the past with a longing in his eyes, one that tugged on your heart strings. You had a similar longing, one where there was harmony between nature and people and now also magic folk.

Browsing through one of the troll markets, you paused when you smelled something delicious, the aroma of vanilla and nutmeg wafting in the air around you.

Nuada chuckled as he observed you. Without asking, he took your hand and led you to a food stall nearby. He spoke briefly to the vendor and handed something in exchange for the pastry that Nuada was now handing to you.

“Thank you,” you beamed. You inhaled deeply before taking a large bite. You hummed in appreciation, the bun was so soft and warm and was filled with something similar to custard.

While focused more on eating than walking, you accidentally knocked into a troll.

The troll growled something in a language you didn’t understand, but you could tell from his tone that it wasn’t anything nice.

Immediately, Nuada lashed out, coming to your defense. He started shouting back at the creature, his voice dripping with venom and his eyes full of rage.

The troll roared, thumping on his chest, looking rather eager to fight.

Clutching Nuada’s arm, you attempted to hold him back, having never seen him this angry before. He reached for his lance, gripping the hilt tightly.

At the sight of the silver spear, the troll seemed to come to his senses, finally backing away, but Nuada didn’t care, all he saw was red.

“Nuada,” you murmured softly, tugging at his arm, hoping to de-escalate the situation. “Come on, don’t let this ruin our day.”

“But-“ Nuada sighed, his rage subsiding as he looked at your face. “Fine,” he relented. “However, next time anyone speaks to you that way, I’m beheading them.”

…

Returning to the palace almost felt like returning home. This time around, the reception of your arrival was warm and welcoming as many of the elves gathered for your and Nuada’s return.

After another large feast, the prince quietly slipped away while everyone else mingled. You tilted your head, watching as he snuck out through the wooden double doors. Excusing yourself from the table, you followed him.

“Nuada,” you reached out, taking a hold of his arm. Successfully stopping him in the hall.

“Hm?” He turned to face you.

“Here,” you slipped the third crown piece into his hand.

He couldn’t hide his utter confusion as he felt the cold metal in his palm, “This is…”

“The final crown piece,” you answered.

“Why?” He asked, his eyes boring into yours.

“I don’t want you or your people to be out of options if this falls through, I trust you,” you said simply. “And I trust you’ll do what’s right… Wish I could say the same for humans.”

Nuada stared at the gold piece in his hand, rubbing his thumb the length of it as he processed your words. He now had all three pieces and could claim the Golden Army.

But…

He lifted his head, his gaze falling upon you, you had provided him with a better solution, one that he was willing to try, to work towards. He’d keep his word, he wouldn’t awaken the army as long as there was hope for his people.

“Thank you,” he said in a quiet voice, that still conveyed his gratitude. “But it should remain with you.”

As he returned the crown piece to you, his touch lingered on your hand for longer than necessary before he said good night.

…

The next morning, sometime after breakfast, Nuada came to your room, seemingly in a hurry.

“I’d like you to accompany me somewhere,” he said vaguely.

You lifted your brow, “Um…Sure?”

“I cannot believe I had forgotten about this until now,” Nuada shared with a lighthearted tone as he took you by the hand and led you down several familiar halls.

“The library?” You questioned as you and him stopped in front of the large doors.

He shook his head, pulling you further into the large room. Nuada led you to a door towards the back that easily could be missed, in fact, despite all the time you had spent in here, you had never noticed it before.

His smile grew as he opened it, inside the walls of the small room were lined with tall cabinets that had rows and rows of tiny drawers. On each drawer were words carved into the wood in elvish. Nuada gestured for you to open one.

Sliding the small drawer open, you peeked inside to find a jar filled with seeds. “A seed library…” you murmured, eyes filled with wonderment as you realized the hundreds, no thousands of plants held in this small room.

Nuada nodded, “Most of these were collected long ago, some of these plants no longer exist.”

“This is amazing,” you started as it all sunk in. “Could I try to plant some? Perhaps I could nurture some of these back into existence.”

Nuada smiled, it was a smile you hadn’t seen before, one filled with youthful excitement, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“So which ones are flowers?” You asked, eager to get started.

Nuada helped you select a few, explaining that these flowers had the most wonderous scent, that sometimes if he tried hard enough he could recall just how lovely they smelled.

Sitting side by side in a courtyard, you and him prepared a flowerbed, breaking up the soil, making sure it was soft and moist. You rolled a seed between your fingers, your arms glowing, but nothing happened.

“Keep trying,” he encouraged when he saw the look of disappointment on your face.

Taking a deep breath, you tried again, “Can you describe it for me, what this flower looks like? That might help.”

“They’re simple but elegant, like gardenias but larger and smell just as lovely and their leaves are a dark green and appear waxy.”

You could almost picture the flower in your mind’s eye, see it sprout and grow and blossom. Looking down into your hand, you laughed seeing that the little seedling had finally sprouted. Delicately, you planted it in the fresh soil.

“You must think poorly of me,” Nuada stated unprompted. “You must see me as a man who seeks violent solutions, solutions where I willingly sacrifice my people and allies needlessly for my own goals.”

You shook your head, “I can tell none of this has been easy for you, I know that it all weighs heavily on your conscious.”

“Still,” he sighed. “I’m not like you, I hadn’t considered any other option, I hadn’t considered that peace could still be possible. You are… admirable to say the least.”

“You’re mistaken,” you whispered, eyes staring at your hands as they padded the soil. “I may be the worst of them all…”

Nuada tilted his head, you obviously had his attention.

“Before Professor Broom,” you began, your mind drifting to your childhood. “I don’t remember much, but I do remember living in a forest, alone, I was practically feral… unfortunately, I didn’t stay hidden away forever, eventually unlucky travelers and hikers stumbled across my path and all my encounters with them ended the same, who knows how many I killed.”

The memories were foggy, but you could still picture roots wrapping themselves around strangers and coiling tighter and tighter until blood ran.

“I don’t know what was different about father when he found me, but I didn’t kill him. He patiently camped in the woods, keeping his distance from me, but stayed close enough that we could observe each other. I remember him being such a gentle soul…”

You recalled watching him from the outskirts of his camp, he started leaving little treats and trinkets for you in the same spot for you daily. Apparently, he used his experience as Hellboy’s father to help him make a connection with you.

“I have a penance to pay, to both humanity and nature.”

Nuada placed his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I think it’s been paid.”

…

“So,” Red started. “Once you're done with this whole truce crap, what are your plans?”

Nuada opened his mouth to answer the question, but quickly closed it as he realized he actually didn’t know the answer. He assumed that you would be staying with him, living in the palace like you have been, but in all honesty, he had no idea what your plans were, it’s not like he asked or spoke to you about it.

He felt an unpleasant heaviness within him as he acknowledged the possibility of you leaving, moving on to a new and different place to help others.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” you said, working on some needlepoint for the twins’ nursery. “I’ve been so focused on helping the fae, that I haven’t had the time to really think about what’s next.”

You and the prince were currently visiting, mostly to update the BPRD on your progress, but also to spend some time with your family and check in on how everyone was doing. Abe and Nuala appeared all lovey dovey and Liz had shared with you all her crazy pregnancy cravings.

“Well, there’s always room for you here,” Liz offered, absentmindedly rubbing her pregnant belly.

“Thanks, although I’m not sure Manning feels the same way,” you laughed.

“You’re not any worse than Red and they still put up with all his crap.”

“Hey,” he scolded playfully, glaring at Liz. “The BPRD would cease to exist without me.”

Nuada tuned out the rest of the conversation as he contemplated what to do. The thought of you far off somewhere without him stung more than it should. What if something happened to you? What if he never saw you again?

Suddenly you yelped, having accidentally stabbed your index finger with the needle, Nuada’s eyes narrowed as he watched you, he could practically feel the sting of it on his own fingertip. Looking down at his pale hand, he saw a little droplet of blood.

His stomach lurched at the realization. Without a word he withdrew from the group and went out into the hall. On the outside to any of the agents he passed he looked as calm and collected as ever, but inside he was a dam on the verge of breaking due to this latest revelation.

“Have you told her?” Nuala inquired behind him.

Nuada shouldn’t have been surprised that she had followed him, but he didn’t answer her question, he just huffed and turned away.

“Brother,” she urged.

“Have you told the blue one?” He sneered.

“I have.”

He rubbed his forehead, love was a serious matter, especially in their case, it wasn’t something that should ever be taken lightly, because for him it wasn’t something fleeting or lighthearted, it was deep and all consuming.

But when did it get to this point? When did his infatuation become love?

“She has a right to know.”

He began to pace slowly, his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s not that simple,” he argued.

“All the more reason for her to know. We had our suspicions that this could happen,” she reasoned. “That our bond, our ability to feel each other’s pain, could transfer once we each found love.”

His jaw tensed at the word ‘love’, knowing it would only become stronger, that soon you’d experience his every ache and pain and that he’d feel all of yours.

“Human love isn’t as complicated as this,” Nuada stated, glaring at his twin. “What if she doesn’t understand? What if she doesn’t want it and rejects me? What do I do then?”

His mind was already racing with worse case scenarios. The splitting pain he felt over the mere thought of you not loving him had him worried. There was no way for him to stop this, he had no control over it, you and him were now bound to each other, but that didn’t mean you had to remain at his side or even return his love.

“I can see that she cares for you, brother,” Nuala soothed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Tell her.”

…

It was nice being back at the palace, while seeing your family was great, something about being there made you appreciate the peace and quiet cultivated here. Life was simpler, calmer, amongst the elves.

Nuada, however, hadn’t been the same since returning. You weren’t quite sure what it was, but he was distant, colder. It reminded you of how he had behaved when you and him first met. It’s not as if he was actively avoiding you, but the rapport that you two had developed had seemed to vanish.

As you were walking through the halls, planning to visit the seed library, but halted midstep when you spotted Nuada training in the gardens… in the rain.

You watched mesmerized from the outskirts of the courtyard. Drops of water rolled down his back drawing your attention to the way his muscles moved and flexed. Graceful didn’t even begin to cover the sight before you.

Despite having already seen him in action, you were still impressed by the fluidity and speed of his movements. He transformed something as violent as fighting into something captivating and beautiful like an intricate dance.

Wet strands of hair clung to the front of his face as he spun with a final flourish. He stabbed his spear into the soft wet dirt, his chest quickly rising and falling while he caught his breath.

Nuada raked a hand through his hair, slicking it back as he lifted his head. He gave you a questioning look when he spotted you on the other side of the courtyard. His lips slowly parted, but before he could speak you scurried away full of embarrassment.

You tried to regain some of your composure as you sped walked through the halls, not really paying attention anymore to where you headed. Abruptly, you halted when you noticed that you were walking towards a dead end, but before you could turn around you heard Nuada say your name.

You could hear him approach, stopping once he was right behind you. Your heart sped up as Nuada possessively placed his hand over the center of your chest, his warm fingertips pressed down into your soft flesh as he pulled your back to rest against his wet chest.

Under his palm he could feel your heart beating in sync with his own. His other arm wrapped around your waist holding you firmly in place.

“This,” Nuada began, his voice low and velvety right by your ear. “This was how you grabbed me that night, do you remember?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

Closing his eyes, he sighed wistfully, his breath tickling your flushed face. “Your touch lingered for days and it was all I could think about,” He admitted, his arms winding tighter around you. “I couldn’t recall the last time someone had held me or touched me like that, with such…passion.”

His hand crept a little higher from your chest, gliding over your collarbone before his palm rested on your neck. You released a shaky breath, your head spinning from his touch and the low tone of his voice. You were barely even able to register the words he spoke, completely confused by his intentions.

Nuada exhaled heavily, “I suppose that’s when it started, my infatuation for you.”

“What?” You squeaked.

His index finger traced down the center of your throat as he lowered his hand and loosened his grip on you. “There’s an important matter we need to discuss.”

He started heading towards his room and beckoned for you to follow.

“What is it?” You asked.

He shut the door and stood in front of you with his hands behind his back. “I’ve come to care for you,” he confessed, his expression stern as if he had given you a life sentence.

“I care about you too,” you said in a soft tone.

Nuada shook his head and frowned, frustrated with himself for not being clear and not being more eloquent about it. “It’s more than that… I’m in love with you and there are circumstances that you need to be aware of.”

“Circumstances? Sounds… serious.”

His heart sank at your hesitant expression, but he continued to press on. “You are aware of my bond with my sister, yes?”

You nodded, “if either of you gets hurt, so does the other.”

“Well, I’m no longer bound to her, I’m bound to you.” His eyes studied your face as he spoke, watching your brow furrow as you pieced together what he said.

“How?”

“Because you have become that important to me,” he answered with absolute certainty.

You looked up at him, slowly closing the space between the two of you. Your fingers lightly brushed over his skin as you tucked several loose strands of his white hair behind his ear.

His hand promptly took hold of your wrist, his expression torn as if he couldn’t decide between stopping you or encouraging you.

“You need to understand,” he started, his grip tightening. “That there will be no turning back, I will never let you go.”

You were aware of Nuada’s intentions, he wanted this to be absolutely clear for you, for you to know just how consequential it was for you to start a relationship with him, even if it meant scaring you off. But, surprisingly you weren’t afraid or intimidated by the thought of being with him for the rest of your life.

Through your observations, starting from the very beginning, you had seen how lonely he was. How he was trying to repair things basically on his own. He kept everyone at a distance while he shouldered a burden alone until very recently.

In your eyes, Nuada was more than a warrior or a prince, you saw all of him… he was complex and intriguing and passionate. You wanted to be the person he shared those parts of himself with, and most of all you didn’t want him to be alone again.

“I want this,” you promised. “I want you.”

His other hand held your chin, his thumb brushing over your trembling lip as he tilted your head up. He leaned in, eyes boring into yours. “Mine forever.”

Nuada didn’t waste another second, capturing your lips with his and eagerly pushing you against the wall, his tongue swept over your bottom lip before finding its way into your mouth.

Your fingers clutched the back of his head, curling around his wet hair as you reciprocated the kiss with just as much passion. Your other hand ran down his chest, his heart racing under your touch.

His fingers hooked behind one of knees, yanking your leg upward, instinctively you wrapped it around his waist allowing him to be even closer to you, his pelvic bone now grinding against you. He pushed your skirts up so his hands could roam over your thighs while his mouth latched onto your neck.

Nuada, under typical circumstances, would be more intentional about where he left marks but right now he couldn’t care less as little pink and red marks bloomed on yours and his skin.

You had never felt this sort of urgency before, it was as if he’d die if he had to wait any longer before being with you.

In a hurried and rough manner, he undid the sash of your dress then began to tear away all the layers in his way. He moaned obscenely, feeling your bare torso pressed against his own. His lips explored the newly exposed flesh, nipping and sucking.

Even he was surprised by how desperate and animalistic he was acting, unaware of just how much his body craved your touch and your skin on his, he was practically ravenous.

You could hear him panting heavily by your ear as he undid his pants. He pushed your underwear to the side, exposing your slit. Fortunately, you were already aroused because Nuada couldn’t wait any longer.

Taking his cock in his hand for just a moment, he aligned it with your tight warm cunt. In a fluid motion, he thrusted into you completely, pausing briefly as he savored the feeling of being buried in your velvety walls.

You gasped, wrapping your arms around his neck for support as he began thrusting. His pace immediately starting out fast and hard.

Nuada’s cock was long, reaching depths no previous lover ever had. Your nails raked across his pale skin as you cling to him, yet this caused you to hiss as you also felt the sting of it.

“You are,” he panted, “enchanting, wondrous, divine…”

He sloppily kissed along your shoulder, loving every little sound you made as he fucked you. He wondered if he’d regret not taking his time with you, for being so rough with his flower, but he didn’t feel any pain, just waves and waves of pleasure.

There would be time, plenty of time, where he could make up for it, where he would be a gentle, more tender lover, who will kiss and touch every inch of you.

It didn’t take much longer before you came. You moaned his name, muscles now tightening and your toes curling.

Nuada immediately followed, grunting as he rode out his orgasm and came inside of you.

Propping himself up against the wall with his arms, he caught his breath. Leaning his head down he kissed your forehead then along the side of your face. Acting with more self control, he cupped your face, gazing lovingly into your eyes, “I am yours.”

The following morning, things progressed a lot more slowly with your new lover.

Nuada groaned as you straddled him, his back arching off the bed as you slowly took his cock. Casually he fucked you from below, rolling his hips at a leisurely pace as you rode him.

He admired you, taking in all the pink and purple splotches left from the night’s activities, but also appreciating how lovely you looked in the light of the morning.

…

“Have you packed?” You asked Nuada as he entered the bedroom. You were currently packing your own bag, excited to take a small trip back home.

A couple of days ago, you received a message letting you know that Liz delivered two healthy babies. It had been a couple of months since your last visit, so you were already due for another, but this news made it even more necessary to go.

Nuada nodded, placing his hands on your waist. “Do you need help?”

You shook your head, “No, I think I have almost everything I need.”

Nuada kissed you, right under your earlobe. “Are you looking forward to seeing everyone?”

“Of course I am… I can’t wait to meet my little niece and nephew!” You gushed. “What about you?”

“It will be nice to catch up with my sister, see how she’s adjusting to living with the blue one.”

“He has a name, you know?”

Nuada chuckled, but didn’t bother correcting himself.

“What do you think I should have the babies call me? I was thinking of Auntie Green.”

“That is… suitable I suppose.”

Suddenly you grinned as a thought crossed your mind, “This means you’re also an uncle now, because of our lifelong magical love bond.”

He shook his head, trying to hide his smile over your name for the bond. Taking a few steps back, he moved aside as you finished zipping up your bag. Without thinking, Nuada lifted it up from the bed, ready to carry it to your destination for you.

“Uncle Nuada,” you mumbled, but scrunched your nose in disapproval. “Hmmm, what about… Uncle Silver? That’s much better!”

“Must they call me anything?” He muttered.

“Hey! Don’t be like that, plus you might be a biological uncle soon.”

Nuada sighed, “I suppose you are right… in that case, I think I’d prefer Uncle Silverlance.”

He offered you his arm, escorting you out of the bedroom, so you both could be on your way.

#hellboy ii the golden army #Hellboy fanfic #reader insert #female reader #prince nuada #prince Nuada Silverlance #Prince Nuada x reader #nuada #nuada silverlance #Nuada Silverlance x reader #Nuada x reader #Nuada fanfic #Prince Nuada fanfic

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ibetonlosinghuskies · 7 months ago

Text

patience and pleasure pt 6

summary: as paige packs to move to uconn, she starts to doubt herself. grasping for a sense of security, she goes to the one person she knows can make her feel better. azzi.

disclaimer: as always everything i write is fictional!

warnings: fluff, angst, emotional distress, mild anxiety mention.

word count: 4.6k +

author's note: ik this probably isn't what you were expecting lol, very sorry. i will be giving yall what you want very soon.

~flashback to july 2020~

paige's pov:

i can't believe i'm doing this.

playing at uconn has been my dream since i was a kid, but now that it's finally happening i feel paralyzed. packing my stuff made things feel final.

i'm really leaving minnesota. everything i know is here.

who's going to build legos with drew? who's going to make my parents coffee in the morning?

my hands shake as i fold another shirt, memories flooding my mind. friday night games, late-night drives with the team, sunday morning cartoons with drew.

what if i'm not ready? what if i can't handle the pressure?

i'd been doing a good job keeping all this to myself. putting on my best smile for every interview, every photoshoot. i had a good enough support system too, my family, friends, fans. but behind every "congratulation", i felt their expectation. a standard of perfection only a prodigy could fulfill.

what if i let everyone down?

i can't let them see me crack.

it's not like i'm not grateful for the opportunity. this is all i've worked towards for years. it just hurts to leave everything behind, especially for a future i had no control over. i felt safe here, in this moment, i'm full of potential.

the weight of my potential weighs heavily on my shoulders, keeping me up at night.

i sink to the floor, surrounded by half-packed boxes. part of me wants to unpack it all, to pretend that time isn't moving forward.

my eyes snap up when i hear a knock at my bedroom door.

"hey kiddo," my dad says warmly, leaning against the door frame.

"hey," i reply weakly, putting on a smile. i feel his eyes scan my face, his expression warming with sympathy.

he knows my smile is fake.

"already packing? you don't leave for another week, it shouldn't take you that l—" he stops mid-sentence looking at my closet. "but with that shoe collection maybe you should've started a month ago," he teases, trying to make me smile.

"i just want to be ready," i say, sounding more insecure than i expected.

"it's okay to be scared, you know?" he starts, his voice gentle. "i know this is a big change."

"i just don't wanna disappoint anyone," i stand, continuing to pack my stuff, eyes glued to the floor.

"you could never disappoint us," he assures me. "we're all so proud of you, no matter what."

a mix of gratitude and homesickness rushes over me. i crumble over his words, a few tears escaping my eyes. walking slowly, he grabs me in his arms. we stand there for a moment, the heaviness of change lingering in the air.

"you know," he says suddenly, "i think azzi's still in town at her grandparents. why don't you give her a call?"

he's right, i usually visit her around this time of year. the thought of azzi brings a small smile to my face. memories of our summers spent together fill my mind—trips to the fair, month long sleepovers, sleeping in her clothes.

"not everything has to change, paige," his voice knowing, eyes gauging my reaction.

if anyone could understand what i'm going through, i'd be her.

"yeah, i'll give her a call," i nod, trying to shake my heartache.

"good," he says, walking to my door. "don't forget to leave some of your shoes behind. we don't need the whole state of minnesota wondering why there's a shortage."

i roll my eyes, laughing. "i'll think about it."

he gives me one last warm smile before closing my door. i take a deep breath, reaching for my phone.

azzi's pov:

i'm sprawled across my bed, scrolling through my phone when it starts buzzing. paige's name lights up the screen, and i can't help but smile.

"hey p," i answer, my smile showing in my voice.

"hey az," she replies, and immediately i know something's off. her voice is quieter than usual, lacking its usual charm.

"you okay?" i ask, sitting up straighter.

there's a pause, i can almost feel her forcing a smile through the phone. "yeah, i'm good. just...packing."

packing. right. she's leaving soon.

i'm hit with a wave of anticipatory grief. i've been trying to avoid thinking about what it's gonna be like when she leaves. we'd fallen into such an easy routine. she's spent countless summers at my grandparent's house, becoming part of my family.

"how's that going?" i ask, trying to sound hopeful.

"it's...going," she laughs gently. "it's just a lot, you know?"

i do know. the spotlight she's received these past couple years has been intense, but paige made everything she did look effortless. her confidence carried off the court, giving her a new charisma.

she was so easy to love.

"yeah...it's a big change," my voice matching her quiet tone.

there's another pause, the soft hum of the phone. i listen for her breath, a sigh, some background noice. but nothing. i feel her worry through the phone.

"can i come over—"

"you should come ov—"

we say at the same time. "i'll pick you up tomorrow morning," i smile at the thought of finally getting to see her.

i hear her take a steadying breath, "okay," her voice sounding a bit lighter.

my mind starts to wander. what if i don't see her again for years after this? all this time, and i never thought i'd have to confront my feelings for her.

"hey, i'll call you later, okay?" i'm sad to end our call, but i didn't have time to waste.

"uh yeah," she says, sounding a bit disappointed. "talk to you later."

i hang up the phone, my mind racing, filled with all of her favorite things. that minnesota lynx jersey she loves, her favorite snacks, the lego sets she builds with drew.

i can't let her leave without knowing how much of me she's taking with her.

i start in my closet, sifting through my clothes. my fingers brush against the fabric of my favorite hoodie—the one paige always steals when she's here.

i pull the hoodie closer to my chest, hoping that, for a moment, i could capture the warmth of her hug. a mixture of my perfume and her shampoo. i swear no matter how many times i wash the damn thing, it always carries a piece of her. like the intricate stitching holding the fabric, our bond sewn into the core of who we are.

i run my fingers along the seams—strong, resilient, trustworthy. i guess some things are too deep to be washed away. maybe it'll remind her that no matter how far she goes, a part of us will always be intertwined.

she should have this. it's practically hers anyway.

next, i move to my bookshelf, scanning the titles. my eyes land on one of my favorite john green books, looking for alaska. every once in a while she'd ask me to read it to her so she could fall asleep. paige always claimed my books were boring, but sometimes i'd catch her leaning in, eyes wide and attentive, consumed in the story. maybe she'd finally get around to reading it herself.

lastly, i grab some scissors off my desk and head for my front porch. the old basketball hoop stands sentinel, a silent witness to countless hours of our shared passion. i run my fingers along the worn metal, remembering all the times we'd scrimmage until the streetlights flickered on. our laughter and trash talk echoing through the quiet neighborhood.

i tilt the hoop towards me cutting off a piece of the net. the frayed edges feel like memories slipping through my fingers.

she was my champion first.

before the world knew 'paige bueckers', i knew paige. the slight competitive spark she'd get in her eyes before every shot. her confident sway as she played, turning my front porch into an arena.

everyone is finally gonna see in her what i've known for years.

back in my room, i surveyed my collection. each item, a different memory. i reach under my bed, adding the final touch to my gift—an old lego set paige and i bought together a long time ago. i put off building it with her, claiming we should save it for a special night.

there is nothing more special than tomorrow night.

i want everything to be perfect. i find myself frantically cleaning the house at 2 am, as if paige hasn't visited countless times. i organize my bookshelf, fold clothes, anything to keep my hands busy and my mind from wandering to her.

my exhaustion finally takes over and i lay sprawled across my bed. i try to sleep but she's all i dream about.

except these aren't the usual dreams.

a sequence of different visions flash through my mind, in each of them i'm losing her. we're on a basketball court, but something's off. paige is wearing a uconn jersey, looking different in a way i can't quite place. older, more independent. i'm still in my high school uniform. we're on opposite sides of the court, the air between us heavy. i call out to her but no sound comes out.

i want to tell her something. but my throat tightens, restricting like it's trying to hold her too.

i wake up before the sun, in a cold sweat. it felt so real, almost predestined. a heavy ache in my chest lingers, still unable to articulate what i need to tell her. the thought of my nightmares becoming real ignites a motivation in me to figure it out. fast.

i close my eyes again, hoping for dreamless sleep this time.

tomorrow, i'll find the words. i'll make sure i do.

paige's pov:

the sun peaks through my blinds, waking me up earlier than usual. awaking to the sight of half-packed boxes leaves me disoriented. but my heart flutters when i check my phone to find seven unread text from azzi.

i'm gonna miss stuff like this the most.

glancing at the time, i start to pack a bag to stay the night. she technically didn't say i was sleeping over, but i know us well enough to know that i will.

i start throwing things into my bag—my favorite hoodie, some shorts, and a pillow. then i pause, remembering the last time we hung out at her grandparents' place.

everything i needed was already there.

i empty half the bag, smiling to myself. the hoodie she'd always let me wear, my toothbrush, that book azzi's always bugging me to read, even my favorite pillow. they're all still at her place.

i'm reaching for my phone to tell her i'm ready when i hear my doorbell. smoothing out my hair, i nearly trip down the stairs running to answer the door.

i take a quick breath. even after all this time, i still want to look good for her. the moment i open the front door i'm met with azzi's smile, carrying two coffees in her hands.

everything i need is right here.

"i'm surprised you're not still in your pajamas," she smiles, handing me a coffee.

"what? no, of course not. i've been up for hours," i lie, letting her roll her eyes at my comment.

"mhm," she turns walking to her car.

i glance at her while she walks, her attitude showing in her posture. within just a few seconds, i already feel lighter.

the drive there is both long and short. as we pull up to her grandparents' house, i feel a wave of nostalgia. how many summers have i spent here? how much of me will i be leaving behind?

azzi's grandma is already at the door as we get out of the car. "paigey!," she calls out, her voice warm and welcoming. "how's our little superstar?"

"hi grandma fudd," i mumble, as she pulls me into a hug. i feel like a kid again in her arms.

"look at you," she says, holding me at arm's length. "more beautiful every time i see you."

i blush bashfully at her compliments. "hey, what about me?" azzi pouts from behind us.

"oh hush, you too," she pulls azzi into a deep hug. "i'm glad you finally came, paige. i was worried you weren't gonna make it this year. azzi here hasn't stopped talking about you since your last visit."

i shoot azzi a look, raising my eyebrows at her. she blushes, looking away.

once inside, memories pass me by like a warm summer breeze. the creaky third step on the stairs, the faded marks on the doorframe where azzi and i measured our heights every summer. old family photos lining the hallway, many of which include me.

azzi leads me up to her room, her hand gently tugging at mine excitedly. i let her lead like it was my first time in this house.

as we enter her room, i can't help but notice how clean it looks. her bookshelf organized by size and color, desk clear and neat. i almost miss the messiness of it all, the way her personality leaked all over her bedroom walls.

had she cleaned everything for me?

i scan her bedroom walls, all of which are covered in photos of us. photos from practice, summer trips to the lake, championship games.

her bedroom a museum of us, a bold testament to our bond.

"you kept all of these?" i asked softly, touching the corner of a photo from years ago.

azzi shrugs, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "of course," she clears her throat nervously. "only because i look so good in them," she laughs failing to hide her affection.

i turn to her, ready to tease her about being sentimental, but the words die on my lips. she's holding something behind her, smiling with her eyes.

she takes a deep breath, bringing her hands forward slowly. in them is a carefully wrapped package, similar to the half-packed boxes littering my floor at home.

"i, uh, got you this. well, more like...put together." she hands me the box.

my fingertips brush against hers, heart racing as i look up into her eyes. "az, you didn't have to—"

"just open it, p," she interrupts, her voice soft and eager.

i unwrap the box, finally catching sight of its contents. it feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room, it's all too much for me. her favorite hoodie, a worn copy of looking for alaska, a piece of frayed net from the hoop on her porch. and...is that the lego set we bought a long time ago?

all pieces of us, delicately put together in a small brown box.

"az..." i whisper, blinking away tears.

"i wanted you to have a piece of home to take with you," she explains, her eyes seeking my reaction. "so you didn't forget me—us."

i look up at her, my vision blurring the edges around her face. a warmth in my heart builds, surrounded by fragments of us. the finality of it all finally hit me.

how can we pack all of us into a box? years spent together, inseparable for the longest time, just to be neatly packaged in a cardboard box.

there's still so much i want to take with me. how do you package the sound of azzi's laugh? the feeling of her hand in mine? how do i fold up the comfort of her presence and tuck it neatly into a suitcase?

our friendship is a living, breathing thing. packing it away feels inhumane. she will never be a cardboard box i push into the back of my closet, the back of my mind. azzi's warmth pulses underneath my skin. she's the movement that pushes the blood through my body.

i realize something now. home isn't minnesota. it isn't my house or even this one.

home is azzi. and i'm about to leave it behind.

the weight of this box, however light in pounds, pulls me to the floor. my knees buckling underneath me, unable to form a coherent sentence. i'm drowning in a sea of emotions, waves of nostalgia and fear crashing over me. i cry, clinging to the box, like a life vest. my breath comes in short gasps, like i'm barely keeping my head above water.

i hear her call my name, but i can't respond. her voice feels far, muffled by my own emotion. i want to reach out, to tell her i'm okay, but my body won't cooperate.

azzi's hoodie wraps around me like a buoy, keeping me from sinking into the depths of my fears. the book, a raft of memories. the piece of net becomes a rope, pulling me to the shore of home—to her.

i can feel her worry radiate off her in waves, matching the momentum of my fear.

azzi's my anchor, solid and hopeful, grounding me in this storm. her hands cup my face, holding me like water, wiping away the flood.

her touch is gentle, safe. i lean into it instinctively, she always knows how to bring me back to myself.

looking up, i meet azzi's gaze. her eyes are a mirror of my own—a mix of worry, empathy, and something deeper. something that's been left unspoken between the two of us for a long time.

i feel her eyes search my face, a warmth that cuts through the chill of my tears.

azzi's looking at me like i'm her anchor too like she's just as terrified of drifting apart.

"paige, look at me," she says softly, also crying, wiping away my tears before her own.

i force myself to focus on her face. the wetness of her eyelashes, the trembling of her breath, her flushed cheeks—anything to slow my thoughts.

she sits on her knees, catching my tears in her palms. "you're not losing me, okay?" her voice reassuring, but also breaking between her tears.

"okay," i mumble sniffling. before i can thank her or apologize, she pulls my forehead to her lips. they tremble softly against my skin, her sadness showing but insistent on soothing me first.

azzi pulls my head into her chest, stroking my hair gently. i wrap my arms around her waist firmly, thinking that maybe if i hold her tightly enough, i can keep her here—in this moment, forever.

my tears begin to settle as i focus on her heartbeat, trying to memorize it. each beat a resilient promise, a faint whisper of trust, something to hold on to.

we stay there for a moment before azzi pulls back, staring at me with such a tenderness it almost sets me off again.

my eyes fall on the lego set peeking out of the box, and i can't let but let out a shaky laugh. "you're finally letting me build this," i smile, "it only took me almost moving away, huh?"

azzi's face breaks into a small grin, relief showing in her eyes. "like i'd trust you to build it on your own. someone's gotta make sure you read the instructions."

"hey!" i gasp in mock offense. "instructions are for people who don't know what they're doing, i'm a professional lego architect."

"oh we'll see about that," she jabs, opening the box.

azzi's pov:

as we build the lego set together, i can't help but steal glances at paige. i read the instructions to her but she's definitely not listening. already working at the pieces, her focus is unbreakable. her tongue pokes out slightly as she concentrates. it's so quintessentially her, it makes my heart ache.

the day passes by in a blur of laughter and shared memories. it isn't until i notice how dark my room has gotten that i realize we've spent hours on my bedroom floor.

"see, i don't need instructions," paige says, proudly showing off the part she's assembled.

"yeah, whatever," i laugh, admiring her confidence.

we're interrupted by a soft knock at my door, the scent of fresh-baked cookies wafts from behind the door. i open the door to my grandma, always the perfect host, holding a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

she smiles warmly, "i thought you two might want a cookie break."

paige lunges up from the floor almost pushing me over, reaching for the plate. "you're gonna have to send some of these to connecticut," she says, between mouthfuls.

she laughs at her comment, "i wanted to give you this also," in her other hand she hands me an old film camera. "maybe you can capture something special," she smiles before closing the door.

"your grandma makes the best cookies," paige's voice muffled under the sound of her chewing.

before she can react, i snap a photo of her. the camera clicking in a way that makes me giggle.

"hey, i wasn't ready!" she snatches the camera out of my hands. "you're always the model anyways," she says, snapping a photo of me.

i give her a fake smile, still reaching for the camera. "happy now? give it back," i laugh, chasing her around my room.

"not until you give me a real smile," she holds the camera above her head.

"that's not gonna work, we're the same height, stupid," i reach for the camera nearly knocking it out of her hands.

"one picture, with a smile," she takes the camera up to her eye to look through the viewfinder.

i give her another impatient smile. she kneels down dramatically, shifting back and forth while snapping photos.

"okay, my turn," i reach for the camera again.

"these aren't real smiles," she pokes my side, making me giggle. "see there it is, hold still."

i drop my smile and pout dramatically. paige moves the camera away from her face and lunges towards me, jabbing at my sides. "stop, paige," i giggle, swatting at her hands.

she dodges me, her fingers continue relentlessly. i push her onto my bed, using my body weight to keep her still. we fight for a moment squirming around my mattress before i pin both of her wrists down. satisfied, i grin down at her. our laughter comes to a soft stop and we're both breathless.

"see, was that so hard?" paige tilts her head to the side, still out of breath. she attempts to reach her hands up again but i tighten my grip.

"oh, whatever," i roll my eyes, leaning closer to her, my hair draping over her face.

"can i tell you something?" she starts, her voice sounding a bit more serious.

"hm?" i respond, still satisfied i could hold her still.

paige hesitates for a moment, her eyes searching mine. "i've never actually had my first kiss," her cheeks flushing a light pink. "i thought i would've by now, before college, you know?"

i loosen my grip on her wrist, "oh, i had no idea. i figured plenty of guys would be lining up to kiss the paige bueckers," i tease.

"i guess," she looks away bashfully, "i just want it to be with someone special. someone i care about," her voice lowering to a whisper.

there's a silence that hangs between us. i feel my heart pounding in my chest. "like who?" i ask quietly.

i need to hear her say it.

her eyes flicker to my lips briefly before meeting my eyes again. "like...you," she says nervously, almost asking it like a question.

was she saying what i think she was?

"really?" i lean closer to her, my eyes wide and hopeful.

she lets out a nervous breath, her eyes intently locked on my lips. "yeah," she whispers, blinking quickly.

before i can overthink it, she leans in, closing the gap between us. her lips meet mine softly, and my hands reach for her face. i feel a nervous tremble in her lips, soft and warm. the pure flavor of her lips, tasting like vanilla and chocolate. her hands move to my waist, her thumb swaying slightly. we move slowly, gently, not wanting to rush this moment.

our kiss is tender like a warm summer night. her lips move sweetly and determined like she's thought of this before. her hands stroking softly saying "i've wanted this. wanted you."

when she pulls back i feel a new kind of emptiness. how am i going to live with the absence of her touch? she's opened a crack in my heart, long enough for the light to come in.

kissing paige was like sunlight embodied.

we stare at each other for a moment. caught in this new in-between.

what do you say after you kiss your best friend? how do you tell her it was your first kiss too?

"i'm glad it was you," she smiles, sitting up.

"yeah, me too," i murmur, my voice full of emotion. i lean to the side, still dazed from her touch.

"it's getting late, we should probably—" she starts.

"yeah...um," i respond uneasily, standing up to walk over to my closet. i grab one of my old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. "you can wear these to sleep in."

paige takes the clothes from me, her fingers brushing against mine. when we touch this time, it feels different, heavier. she heads to the bathroom to change, and i let out a breath i didn't know i was holding in.

even being just a room over, it feels like she's slipping through my fingers. i'm reminded of my nightmares from last night, paralyzed by the thought of losing her.

i need to tell her.

i grab a piece of paper and pen off my desk, my hands quivering slightly as i start to write.

the first part of the letter flows easily. but as i continue, i feel a shift. the truth hanging in the space between my pen and the paper.

she deserves the truth. and i owe it to myself, to finally tell her.

my heart races, searching for the right words as i continue...

i reread the letter, feeling vulnerable under my own words.

what if this ruins everything? what if she doesn't feel the same way?

i glance at my bedroom door, knowing paige could return at any moment. the panic sets in and i make a split-second decision. my hands shake as i tear the paper in half.

the first part, full of friendship and encouragement. it's a bit more sentimental than usual but not enough to make her suspect anything. i fold it neatly, placing it atop the other objects in the box. it's safe, expected.

the second part, my true feelings for her. i can't bring myself to throw it away, but i'm not ready for her to read it either. i tuck the small slip into the final pages of the last chapter of the book i'm giving her.

maybe one day i'll find the courage to tell her. maybe someday she'll finish the book and know how i really feel. but for now, this feels safe.

i don't know if i'm hoping she finds it or not.

as i hear the bathroom door open, i quickly close the book, sealing my fate. my heart pounds with the weight of my unspoken words.

my thoughts cease when i see her in my clothes. she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, looking unabashedly herself. for a moment, i see our future. imagining our closets becoming one, holding her as she falls asleep, an endless sleepover.

how am i supposed to let her go?

she catches me staring and smiles softly, a knowing glint in her eyes that makes my heart ache. without speaking, we settle into our usual routine. i let her sleep on my favorite side of the bed, she shifts around, trying to get comfortable. eventually, she turns on her side, her back facing me.

right before i drift off to sleep, i hear her call out to me. "azzi," she whispers softly into the dark.

"hm?" i answer, struggling to keep my eyes open.

"can you hold me?"

her voice gentle and vulnerable, as if i could hold every piece of her together. "of course," i wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her in closer. she sinks into my touch, her breath slows.

she drifts to sleep quickly in my arms, our heartbeats syncing. the weight of our unspoken words between us, laying heavily on my chest, pushing me towards a deep sleep.

i dream of never having to let her go.

#Spotify #pazzi #pazzi fic #pazzi fics #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #i bet on losing huskies

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boyfiejay · 2 months ago

Text

Love.

PARING : Park Sunghoon x gn Reader

GENRE : fluff

Warning : no dialogues, reader is down bad but aren't we all

Word Count : 0.5k

Author's Note : I'm not coming back I'm sorry, still on hiatus but I just needed to write this

Do you ever cry because you love someone so much?

That was a question you wondered every time you watched a rom-com, you always wondered what it would feel like. To love someone so much, you miss them when they're right in front of you.

Seeing your parents slow dance in the kitchen, not playing any music to not wake up the kids. That's what love was for you.

The silent actions, so subtle you almost miss it, almost. But when you realize, it makes you love the person so much more.

You always wondered if you'll find a love like that, that would make you look at a person with lovesick eyes.

And you think 'it is possible' everytime you look at Sunghoon. It is possible to love someone so much, you cry at the mere thought of how much you love them.

It was a shame really, because Sunghoon was an intimidating person. But people who were close to him knew he was the kindest soul ever.

It always baffled you when people said they were intimidated by your boyfriend, when he would cling to you at any opportunity.

People called him an introvert, that he was shy. But you knew, he never shut up.

You found love in the small things, because he wasn't the type to say things out loud. But you didn't mind it, because he made sure to make you feel loved every moment.

You found love in the shy eye contacts, lingering touches and his smile.

God, his smile.

Sunghoon bragged how he could make you smile, but it wasn't because he was funny, but just his smile was so infectious. And he knew, he knew how you suddenly quiet down and stare at him smiling stupidly.

Sunghoon was easy to love. He was gentle, kind and attentive. You felt safe with him. He listened to your words and paid more attention to your silence.

He would open his arms and he wouldn't have to say anything, you would go without hesitation.

Sometimes you find yourself overwhelmed with your feelings. You were the outspoken one in your relationship, and yet 'I love you' couldn't explain your love for him.

So many words and you couldn't find a single one to explain how much he means to you, maybe you'll spend your life trying to show him your love.

And he'll stay right by your side until the end. Maybe you'll never find those words, but that's okay, he already knows.

Sunghoon to you, was like the winter sun. Someone who filled your life with warmth in times you needed it the most.

Love to you was gentle, passionate yet soft and loving. Love, to you, was like coming home after a long day and finding yourself in his arms.

You crave his presence in the most innocent form. You crave waking up with him, you crave kissing his forehead after a rough day, you crave him.

You never realized how much he felt like home to you, until you missed him. Until you were alone and thought 'he should've been here'. He felt like home, you wanted to experience all of your ups and down and adventures with him.

He was your home and you, you were homesick without him.

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crimsoncandy04 · 3 months ago

Text

At long last here it is, the unwilling sex slave of The Balladeer pt 2!

(note; It's stated in canon that Scaramouche of course refuses to allow himself to feel his emotions. So I believe that unless he was EXTREMELY obsessed with someone, he would probably just deny himself any romantic feelings and focus on his own goals even if it hurt. So I made my bro COMPELLED to love Y/N so he couldn't ignore his feelings. It's giving yandere but I tried to keep his internalized hatred for humans and mistrust of them as much as I could too. I have to get this part of the story out of the way, so I apologize if it feels forced or slow. I promise Wanderer will deliver in part 3 to make up for things though;))

The man who called himself Aether had stayed with you for the first few days after he brought you to the place called "The Grand Narukami Shrine" but then he had to leave for reasons you couldn't comprehend. You felt so unbelievably lonely and homesick. Longing for your master's embrace every day and dreaming of him every night.

You struggled to talk back with him at first, but eventually you found your inner voice again and were able to properly speak to him when he visited your dreams one night.

"Master I miss you so much. I don't know where I am but I want to be with you. I wish you were real so much! " You whined as you tried to reach out for the black and white apparition that surely was just a figment of your imagination. To your surprise he took your wrist and pulled you closer to him as his other hand found the small of your back and kept you in place. His monotone voice spoke in a shockingly calm tone this time as he whispered huskily in your ear.

"How do you know I'm not, sweetheart?" God this felt so real to you.

His lips trailed down your neck and his chin gradually came to rest on your shoulder as he held you tightly in his arms.

"It took you so long to speak to me again Y/N. Tell me, are you angry with me? Is that why you ran away?" He purred. An underlying predatory tone in his words as he turned to inhale the scent of you. Still not daring to ease his hold on you.

"No master I would never get angry with you! And I didn't run away, someone took me while I was sleeping! Please forgive me!" You pleaded. You felt him shudder a little.

"Liar. You left me to go back to that TRAVELER didn't you? Why else would you have let him take you away so easily?" He suddenly began to squeeze you so hard that it hurt. You struggled to take a deep breath as he continued.

"Don't worry, my pet. I will forgive you on one condition. Come back to me. I promise I'll let you off easy for this transgression if you just give up now and return home like a good girl ~"

You finally got enough oxygen to respond.

"master please I'm not lying! I don't know where home is or I would! Please don't be angry!"

He eased up a little. A soft hum leaving his lips as he then asked you something else.

"Tell me where you are then Y/N. Where did he take you? Give me the truth and I promise I'll have you back home with me before dawn. Speak my pet. Give me as many details as you can." Master sounded so comforting...so familiar. Archons you just wanted this nightmare to be over already so you could feel him again. So you told him the truth.

"Some big shrine. It's really high up. They won't let me leave because they say it's dangerous. There's also a huge tree in the center. Oh please save me master! I want to be with you!"

He pulled away then. A deranged smile crossing his face as his eyes dilated as he seemed to be thinking about something then. His voice was now shaky sounding.

"That place? Of fucking course he brought you there." Master started to laugh then. A very scary sounding laugh.

"He'll regret this. They all will. Don't worry dear. I'm going to get you back. Just stay where you are. I'll see you sooner than you think. "

You feel him release you. A terrible feeling of loss entering your body as he pulled away from you and disappeared entirely. You called out for him. Now all alone in what looked like a shadowy abyss.

Was this a nightmare?

You opened your eyes suddenly. Sitting up quickly in your bed as the sounds of explosions could be heard from outside.

You got out of bed and carefully went to open the window of your room and look out into the courtyard just beyond.

It was actual chaos.

Masked people were fighting armed soldiers. meanwhile several people including two shrine maidens lay dead in the sand as a fight raged on with no purpose from what you could see. However you weren't stupid and decided to get away while you had the chance.

No one had seen you yet and as you crept out of the opposite door to the small building you were in and fled down the mountain side, no one saw you then either.

Well you thought so at least.

You were halfway down when suddenly you felt a strong hand grab a fistful of your hair and yank you backwards onto your ass.

You looked up into the infuriated gaze of your master as he stood over you now.

"Well well well. Trying to run away again Y/N? And here I actually thought-" he suddenly started laughing again. Sounding very scary and even unstable as he suddenly kicked you HARD in the side. You screamed as his psychotic eyes leered down at you with little sympathy.

He rolled your foot over with his own and then began to press down on your ankle as he smiled cruelly at your tears.

You heard the bone snap before you felt it.

You were screaming and crying now as you felt him then kneel down and spread your legs before aggressively pulling your clothed sex against his own. He groaned before slowly grinding his hips between yours. His hands finding your throat as he began to use your body to get him off probably for the last time while he began to strangle you.

You tried to kick and fight as your survival instincts were activated then but it was a futile effort.

His hand traveled down your chest as your vision darkened then. Stopping suddenly as it landed on your lower abdomen.

You felt pain. But not fear as your world then went dark.

Your last thought being a pleasant one as your damaged mind could only be grateful that your death had been at the hands of your beloved master.

However things weren't over for you just yet.

You found yourself suddenly standing in the same shadowy abyss that you had seen in your dreams earlier. Except this time instead of Scaramouche, you saw a woman who resembled him in an almost uncanny way.

Scaramouche. So that was his name. Funny how you just seemed to forget for a while...at least your spirit could still remember your tormentor's name.

The woman with long violet hair suddenly turned to face you. Her eyes were kind. She even greeted you with a soft smile as you looked down and noticed a fox asleep in her arms.

"who are you? What is this place? Also am I dead?"

The young woman slowly walked over to you then. Reaching out as if to take your hand.

"here, I believe these belong to you."

You took her hand and suddenly every question you had was answered. You could remember EVERYTHING.

The vision hunt decree.

Scaramouche kidnapping you.

Miko leaving you to save your friend.

Aether coming back for you.

The child you were supposed to bring into the world.

How could you have forgotten so much?

The woman began to fade away just as quickly as she appeared then. A soft pink glow emitting from her silhouette as her spirit vanished.

After that you were thrown back into a world of excruciating pain as another bright violet light suddenly struck you in the chest.

"fuck. Fuck! Open your eyes damnit! Open them NOW! I swear...if you don't-" you slowly gained awareness as your eyelids flew open then and your gaze landed on a very disheveled and distraught looking Scaramouche. He had been pushing down on your chest. Practically crushing your ribcage in an attempt to restart your heart. Your body pulsed with electricity as you felt nothing but stiffness and agony in every inch of your body.

He immediately lifted you into his arms and planted his lips on yours.

Yet this time you felt nothing.

You wanted him to get the fuck away from you actually.

But something told you to hide this and play along.

So you did.

But it was too late.

He noticed the difference.

"You're acting cold sweetheart. Have I truly made you resentful of me this time? Oh well." He reached out to lay his palm against the top of your head.

"I guess I should've expected this. Don't worry, I'll make sure you learn to be a bit more forgiving."

You felt the tingling sensation you felt the first day he took you then. Your body wanted to relax but this time, anger welled up inside of you quickly, and despite your sore and broken body, you suddenly reared back with your good leg as hard as you could in the small space it had and kicked Scaramouche straight in the dick.

He dropped you for a second but didn't yell or even move. You barely even had time to try and pull yourself up before he was on you again too.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind. One holding your waist and pulling you back against him as the other went up your shirt and roughly groped your boobs.

His cool breath against your ear only disgusted you now.

"don't be like that my heart. Just relax. If I wanted you dead you would be. Though I'm tempted to choke you again for that little stunt you just pulled, I do understand your anger towards me. You should have told me before though my sweet. All of this would have been avoided then." He cooed as you felt his hardness against your ass then through the layers of fabric in between you both.

"ugh! Told you what!?" You snap.

You feel him squeezing one of your breasts much harder at the sound of your tone. A warning.

"that you're pregnant with MY child. Congratulations by the way dear. You're mine forever now no matter what ~"

This man was sick.

You immediately went limp and tried to loosen his hold on you. He was prepared for this however.

He almost sounded disappointed as he suddenly struck you in the head from the side with one of his hands. Moving faster than any man you've ever met.

His voice is the last thing you hear before you're knocked unconscious.

"rest my pet. You're not well right now. Don't worry... I'll make sure you're taken care of."

When you opened your eyes again you were no longer in Inazuma. To your surprise however, you were still... sentient this time. However you couldn't feel most of your body either.

In fact the only thing you COULD feel was someone's hands carefully caressing your stomach and chest as the other held you up from behind.

You looked around and suddenly you wished you had just stayed dead as you realized the new situation you're in.

Scaramouche was holding you in his arms as he gently massaged and kissed you as if you were his lover or something. What was left of you that is.

Because as you looked up and noticed the large reflective wall in front of you and saw yourself in Scaramouche's lap, your eyes widened in sheer horror as you notice that all four of your limbs had been amputated in your sleep.

He noticed your horrified expression and leaned down to speak to you in a soft tone which was unlike him.

"I know you're unhappy with me. And this will take a while to get used to. But if it means keeping you close and keeping our child safe from harm, then I'll do whatever it takes..."

You feel his hand slip under your dress then. You aren't wearing anything besides the thin silken garment and his fingers find their way into your cunt easily.

You watch in the large mirror before you as your body gets aroused and he plays with you in an almost gentle manner this time. Yet even as you cum on his fingers multiple times despite yourself, something inside you feels almost defeated in a way. Broken.

Is this really your life now?

Did you do something wrong?

What god had you angered to have earned an ending like this in the loving embrace of a vile man with a crooked view on love and family who claimed to only want to protect you and hold you close?

You didn't have much time to think before you felt Scaramouche lift you up a little and then slam you back down onto his cock roughly.

You were completely helpless to him in every way.

***time skip***

3 months have passed since you were made into nothing short of a living sex toy for the self absorbed and insane harbinger Scaramouche. Your belly was much bigger now and despite everything else, you found that in order to keep your own sanity perhaps, you learned to cherish the small things in your new life.

The man was very much willing to give you anything you wanted.

From the lavish silk robes and gowns he adorned you in daily, to the expensive perfumes and soaps that were used to enhance your beauty and soften your skin, to the pricey foreign delicacies he had brought in daily for your snack time and meals...it was very obvious that Scaramouche spoiled you and did everything in his power to make you comfortable.

And at night when he would visit you in his bed chambers, sit beside you as you lay on your new satin cushion and begin to kiss and pleasure you, you realized that you had started to enjoy it.

You had no worries in this world anymore. He handled everything from your medical checkups to your hair appointments.

You just had to rest and grow the life inside you for him.

You were getting comfortable in your new routine when suddenly one morning, Scaramouche confessed to you that he was going away for a while but would send for you in the future to join him in time.

Fear and anger immediately flooded your tiny body upon hearing this.

He was just going to LEAVE you like this?

He had told you that he would just be in Sumeru working on a personal project and that you would be well looked after while he was away.

You pleaded with him. Demanding to know why you couldn't come with him.

He just shrugged and said if he told you, you'd be in trouble. So it was better that you remain hidden and waited for him to finish things in Sumeru City first.

The conversation had ended there.

You were at a loss.

What was going to happen to you while he was away?

What about your baby?

All you knew, was when he left that night, that you had a terrible feeling in your gut.

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lujingheswife · 1 year ago

Text

and it felt like home again.

summary: when he gets drowned in exhaustion and homesickness, the first thing he wishes for is home.

featuring: oikawa tooru

word count: 729

cw: gn!reader, timeskip!oikawa tooru, comfort, oikawa is just homesick, not proofread, intentional lowercase, a bit of fluff <3

author’s notes: wanna write a fic of a character feeling homesick and exhausted (because i was) and oikawa was the first person that came into my mind! hope you enjoyyy

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

it was seven o clock in the evening.

tooru limply stepped into his rented apartment, the familiar loneliness welcoming him with silence. his eyes felt droopy from lack of sleep, his body sore from multiple rounds of exercising and his arms bruised from the strong receives.

he should be used to this, which he is, yet it happened to be one of those days when he felt absolutely, dreadfully exhausted.

he would be lying if he says he does not want to go home; he really wanted to. the countless practices had always made him wanting to just pack his bags and leave. he missed his family and his mother’s home cooked meals, he missed enjoying authentic ramen at the restaurant near his high school, he missed being in the arms if his partner just taking his time to relax.

he missed his home.

tooru placed his bags by the entrance, not bothering to arrange them somewhere. he kicked his shoes off without caring to keep them nicely in the shoe rack. he let his legs drag him towards the nearest, softest place he could find to rest— the sofa.

the apartment was dark although illuminated by the light lingering in the evening sky. he heavily rested an arm over his eyes, a loud sigh escaped his lips.

the first person that came into his mind was you.

he wanted to see you.

tooru suddenly thought of his phone that was left forgotten in his bag. he slightly lifted his arm to take a peek at his bag, but ignored it after.

whatever, not in the mood...

just a little longer maybe.

when his eyes could no longer bear the weight of his consciousness, they finally put him into slumber.

he found himself in a dream. he was in a field of grass with nothing else around him. every direction he went showed no signs of obstacle, only an endless field.

what was he searching for?

where was he going?

he continued walking aimlessly.

ah... how long have i been walking for?

the sound of a bell ringing came to him from the front. it caught his attention, and his legs picked up the pace. there he was, running towards where the bell rung from in hopes of a destination.

a flash of light blinded him.

tooru jotted awake from the sofa as the sound of the ringing doorbell continued echoing the apartment. confused, he definitely recalled not ordering any food delivery today nor did he invite anyone to come over.

"coming," he called. he groggily dragged himself towards the door, not bothering to check his phone again.

his hand reached for the doorknob as he unlocked it open. he had not look at who the person is, yet the shoes definitely belonged to someone familiar. "do you need anythi-"

"tooru!"

what?

his once droopy eyes widened immediately at the familiar voice calling for his name. his head shot up from facing the floor, immediately locking eyes with you.

you stood in front of his door with a big backpack clinging onto your back like a koala and a luggage standing next to you. you were there, physically, in front of him, plastering a grin that he loved so much on your face. "you did not answer my call," you said as you pouted your lips on purpose, yet he was sure that you were simply amused at your boyfriend's reaction.

tooru remained speechless as he observed you top to toe, confirming whether its the real deal, his precious partner, in front of his doorstep. was it a coincidence that you somehow magically appeared in front of him like an angel during the times when he needed you the most? probably.

his hand left the door knob as he immediately pulled you into a tight, warm embrace. how surreal did it feel when he buried his face in the crook of your neck, enjoying the coziness he longed to feel. he felt you responding to his hug as you returned it, and he could feel your familiar scent tickling his nose saying, "it's been a while!"

he stayed with you for a little longer before getting pestered to help you with your heavy bags. he asked no questions, just clinging onto you like a helpless toddler and ended the day with a cuddle.

and it felt like home again.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #haikyuu oikawa #hq oikawa #oikawa tōru #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru imagine #oikawa tooru x y/n #oikawa tooru x you #oikawa tooru fluff #oikawa fluff

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pedropascallme · 10 months ago

Text

Didn’t You Miss My Voice?

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: “‘I miss you, too.’ You sighed, ‘Wanna show you, Damien.’ You kicked the sheets off your lower half, sending them down the bed and letting your legs spread slightly in anticipation. ‘Can I show you how much I miss you?’”

Warnings: Phone sex, masturbation (f & m), praise, kinda soft!Dom Damien, panty sniffing involved i repeat panty sniffing involved!! Damien wants to fuck you so bad it makes him look stupid. If I missed anything please let me know!

When he left for PAX East, he had taken one of your sweatshirts, worn it on the plane to self-soothe, and planned to sleep in it or near it the next few nights so he could dream that you were closer.

Damien liked having something of yours nearby. On days or weeks that he was away, he packed any article of clothing of yours that he could, just to be able to envision you nearby.

It had started accidentally, after he packed a shirt of yours that looked near identical to one of his for a con. From then on it had become second nature to bring along something of yours for the allotted time that he would be away from home—away from you—so that he didn’t get as homesick. He didn’t think you had even noticed; the five shirts he wore on rotation could never compare to the dozens of various outfits that overflowed from your dresser.

He was fully convinced that his thievery had gone unnoticed by you. So, when he opened his suitcase on day three of being away, rooting around in it to find something comfortable to sleep in, and felt something silken and lacy at his fingertips instead of the flannel pajama pants he was expecting, he couldn’t help the genuine shock that hit him. Damien pushed the surrounding heap of his own clothes away and pulled out the piece of fabric that he had come across.

He held up the soft pink panties, swallowing upon recognizing them as the ones you had worn the night before he left; how you’d ground your hips against his and let him pull the lacy material to the side so that he could see how pretty you looked in them while you came undone on his cock.

He felt lightheaded.

The blood must’ve rushed elsewhere.

There was a note safety-pinned to the waistband, and he undid the clip before letting himself read what it said.

I miss you. Call me when you find these? <3

Your handwriting made his heart swell. God, he missed you. Even after only three days, he missed you so much.

Damien hurried to your contact in his phone. You picked up on the first ring.

“I was waiting for this call.” He could hear your smile, imagining the way your lips curled against the phone’s mic. You had been in bed when he called, his smell lingering on the pillow you had tucked under your head.

“You’re too good to me,” Damien could feel the heat rising in his face, “You’re really, really, too good to me.”

“Thought I hadn’t caught on to your light robbery?”

“Are you accusing me of a crime?” He laughed, and the sound made you feel warm.

“I’m just saying, there are only so many times I can misplace a shirt that suddenly reappears when you come home until I begin to suspect something.” You giggled, hoping he knew you weren’t at all mad. “It’s cute, actually. You know that?”

“Me?” He returned the lighthearted banter. He held your underwear in a closed fist, keeping them close to his chest. “What, uh—what made me so deserving of this…gift?” His voice got deeper on the last word, and you bit your lip.

“Didn’t want you to leave without a reminder of what was waiting for you at home.”

“I have your sweatshirt, baby.” He sat on the mattress, reaching out with his hand still wrapped around your panties to touch the hoodie he’d taken from you, laid out next to him on the bed. “And even if I didn’t, you know I’m always thinking of you.”

“I know,” you verified, “But I like making sure. Didn't you miss my voice, baby?”

“I know,” he echoed your words. “And I did—I do. Miss your voice. I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” You sighed, “Wanna show you, Damien.” You kicked the sheets off your lower half, sending them down the bed and letting your legs spread slightly in anticipation. “Can I show you how much I miss you?”

Damien had to stifle a groan, already eager from just the sound of your voice and the way you whined his name. “Yeah? You want to show me?”

You nodded, before remembering he couldn’t see you. “Yes—yeah.”

Though he was reluctant to put your panties down, he managed to part with them briefly before undoing his fly with one hand. His other hand gripped his phone, knuckles going white as he tried to make up for the physical absence. He brought his hand up when he finished unfastening his jeans, retrieving your panties from the spot he’d left them in on the bed. He brought them to his face and inhaled the piquant scent; sharp and stimulating and perfect—just like you—in a way that your sweatshirt could never replicate. He hesitated to wrap his hand around his cock, palming himself through his boxers to make this last as long as he could draw it out for. “You gonna listen to what I say even though I’m not home?”

“Always.” Your response was immediate, and he could tell by the strain in your voice that you were just as needy as he was. “I promise.”

“That’s my good girl,” He squeezed his bulge, still trying to exercise patience and allow himself time to play with you. “I’m giving you permission to touch, baby. One finger, can you do that for me? Rub your clit nice and slow?”

“Yeah.” You whimpered into the phone, thrilled by the way his voice lowered when he talked you through the act. You let out a small gasp when you touched yourself—half for show, and half because you’d been good while he was gone, not allowing yourself to play with what was his. You were sensitive in the most premier of ways.

“How’s that feel?” He asked, biting his tongue upon hearing your moans.

“Good,” you murmured.

“Better than when I do it?” His eyelids felt heavy, the sound of your quiet, breathy noises acting like a sort of relaxant.

“No—not at all. Miss your hands. Miss how you touch me.” You picked up the pace just a bit, trying to find the proper rhythm.

“Is that what you’re thinking about, princess?” He smiled, eyes closing as he finally let himself remove his cock from his boxers. “You want me to touch you?”

“Yes,” you found the proper tempo, rolling your finger over your clit in double-time with your breathing. “Come home, Damien, want your hands.”

He moaned, loving how quickly your power play had turned into you begging for him, and he wished more than anything that he could give you what you needed. He held himself at the base, teasing himself with your sounds and the light touch of his own fingers. “I’ll give you whatever you want when I come home, baby, I promise.”

“Want your hands, and your mouth—want your cock.” You pleaded, still using one finger to massage yourself, unwavering in your commitment to follow his orders.

“You can have all of me, princess—are you getting yourself all wet? How about you use your one finger and tell me how soaked you are.”

“I can put it in?” You corroborated, making sure you had permission.

“Go ahead, baby. Play with that needy pussy for me.” Damien wrapped the panties you’d sent with him around the base of his cock. He dragged the fabric up and down over himself to find some relief, coating himself with the residue of the last time he got to fuck you before leaving for the week.

You trailed your finger up your slit, collecting the slick that coated the lips of your cunt, before pushing into your entrance. You whined, and Damien pulled your panties tighter around his cock.

“Doesn’t—not as big as yours.” You complained, curling your finger against the tender spot inside of you and wishing it was his hand pressed against your cunt.

“I know, baby, but you’re doing so good.” He reassured, watching the pink fabric of your underwear as he pulled it over his length, the quiver in your words making him think of all the ways he could fuck you until you lost your voice from crying out for him. Maybe he’d have you bouncing up and down on him in the same way that he moved your panties over his cock. “You can add another finger, how about that? Is that what you need?”

“Yes, please.”

“Go ahead, princess, use two.” He listened intently at the way your breath hitched when you pushed a second finger into your hole; he could tell you had him on speaker, the squelch of your fingers thrusting into your wet cunt were amplified. He let out a quiet moan of your name, wrapping his hand around his cock and over your panties, letting his fingers manipulate the silk and press it more firmly against his length.

“Still not as good as yours,” you arched your back, picking up the pace and letting your fingertips push more forcefully against your g-spot.

“No? Not as good as when I fuck you with my fingers?” His chest rose and fell steadily, heart rate skyrocketing from the adrenaline he got touching himself paired with the knowledge that you were there on the other end making yourself feel good.

“No, yours are bigger. Fill me up so much better.” You whimpered when the pads of your fingers found the perfect nook to rest upon. The spot with heightened sensitivity that he found with such ease required you to bend your arm at a difficult angle, but it was well worth it; the tickle spread through the lower half of your body, goosebumps breaking out over your skin at the feeling. “Fuck, but it does feel good, Damien—please.”

“Please what?” He was trying not to pant, and trying harder not to beg, so desperate to hear you make yourself cum.

“Tell me how you’re touching yourself—what you’re thinking.” Your mouth hung open when you finished your thought, lost in the joy of finally having time alone with him after days of being apart, emphasized by the blissful way your fingers moved in and out of you.

“Thinking about you,” he breathed, “told you, baby, I’m always thinking about you.”

This earned a moan from you, and he tried to imagine how you looked; two fingers driving into your cunt, soaked in your own juices, trying to fuck yourself open despite knowing only he could give you what you really wanted.

His imagination didn’t do you justice. You were too perfect. He needed the real thing.

“More,” you whined, “Tell me more. Please?” You needed to hear his voice. If you couldn’t have him physically right now, you at least wanted to hear him tell you all the filthy pictures running through his mind.

“Have your panties wrapped around my cock,” he listened to you gasp at his words, proud that he could get you so excited even when he was miles away. “Thinking about all the things I want to do to you when I come home." He took a shaky breath, tightening the grasp he had on his cock and trying hopelessly to emulate the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him. "Is that what you want to hear about?"

"Yeah," you were whining, voice pitched up and breathing unsteady.

"Think maybe I’ll use my fingers on you since that’s what you seem to need so badly. Does that sound good, princess?” The image prompted by his words made him groan, bucking into his fist. The silken fabric of your panties acted as an improvised lubricant, gliding over his skin as he jerked himself off.

“Oh my god, Damien,” you used to heel of your palm to grant your clit friction, same two fingers still plunging in and out of you. “Yes, yes, need it!”

“Yeah, that’s right—use my fingers on you until you’re sore, bet you’d like that wouldn’t you? Till you can’t take anymore, then I’ll fuck you so nice, baby, make you cum one more time on my cock.” He couldn’t take his eyes off his own movements, watching, enthralled, as he brought your panties in his fist up to the tip of his cock before bringing the stroke back down and repeating the motion. “Need to feel you cum for me so fucking bad, that’s all I want.” He was whining now, frustrated and missing you. “Can’t wait to come home and give you what you deserve, baby—I want to make you feel so good.”

“You make me feel so good, Damien. Want—want you to come home,” you were so close, needing only a small push to fall off the edge now. “I’ll be so good for you, I’ll do wha—whatever you want.”

“Want you to cum for me, princess,” he gritted his teeth, trying to stave off his climax for just a little longer. “Want you to make yourself cum, baby. Need you to be a good girl and fuck yourself till you cum for me.”

His words were the push you needed; the exertion in his voice and the desperation behind his words made your abs tense as you used your fingers to make yourself cum. You cried out his name, turning your head to push your face into the pillow you could still smell him on. Your fingers stroked your most delicate spot, drawing out your high with trembling legs while you mumbled his name like a quiet prayer.

“Good fucking girl. Christ—” Damien’s jaw went slack when he heard your moans, your whimpers of his name made him feel something primal and wanting. “I’m gonna cum for you—fuck!—gonna cum with these pretty panties wrapped around me like this.” His words were stuttered, and his hips faltered as he fucked his hand, spilling into his fist and over the shirt he’d failed to take off.

The two of you breathed heavily over the phone, the sound of both your gasps overtaking both rooms despite the miles between you.

"I miss you so much." Damien wheezed, lazily wiping off the cum that dribbled over his skin with his shirt.

"I could tell," you laughed, drained but feeling carefree and light after unwinding with him like this.

"What gave it away?" You could picture him over the phone, face matching his question; smile wide and brow creased as he held back a laugh.

You shrugged, aware that he couldn't see you but certain that he would pick up on the sarcasm in your quiet "I dunno."

"That was ok, right? You feel ok?" His voice was softer, the force in his words diminished and replaced with his typical kindness. "Tired?"

"Tired." You confirmed, yawning. "Come home."

"Two more days."

"That's too long." You protested, and he laughed quietly.

"I promise I'll make it up to you." Damien meant it wholeheartedly; he wanted to make sure you knew that every time he left, he could only ever think about coming home to you.

"I know you will." And you knew he was telling the truth.

There was a moment of quiet, both of you still breathless and stretching the ache in your joints following your impromptu rendezvous.

"Will you stay on the phone with me?" His voice was small. He still got nervous asking you to do things like that, feeling like a lovestruck teenager and unable to hide his timidity despite having heard you scream his name while you came just moments ago.

"Yes, please." You smiled, eyes closing, "Like a sleepover."

"Just like a sleepover." He sighed dreamily, tired grin painted on his face. "I love you."

"I love you, too." You settled into bed, fixing the covers and making yourself comfortable. Damien listened to you rustle the sheets, focusing on how the sound of your breathing leveled out as you dozed off.

He undressed himself, and got comfortable in the unnaturally well-made hotel bed, smiling at your soft snores and impatiently counting down the days until he could once again hold you while you slept. He grabbed your sweatshirt, placing it under his head, between himself and the pillow, and breathed in your scent.

Even when he wasn't home, he knew he had you—and you were all he ever really wanted.

#damien haas #damien haas fanfiction #damien haas fic #damien haas smut #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #smosh games #smosh pit #smosh squad #smoshblr

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featguler · 4 months ago

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PROLOGUE : I WON'T BE ALONE ( FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE )

jude and a couple of his academy mates decide to try the korean chicken place down his dorm's block, famous for its cheese tteokbokki and infamous for its grumpy chef. he meets a girl and shoots the first shot he does not miss that day.

prologue of ' call my bluff '

⌗ pairing : jude bellingham x female original character ⌗ wordcount : 5,743 ⌗ notes : the prologue of this brand new series!! i am so excited. also i said this in the masterlist of this series, but please don't take anything said in this fic is facts... i don't know if jude ever lived in a dorm, and i don't care enough to find out. i've also never been to birmi so... ignore all geographical matters pls. no one in this chapter is real except for jude if you would like to be added to the taglist, please do let me know! surprise surprise, this chapter was actually proofread by my friends, shin (@ludiceousml) and arya (@amigara-vault). love u guys ♡ masterlist.

mini playlist ! 𐙚 forever noah kahan : i'm glad i get forever to see where you end 𐙚 speak too soon wild rivers : i saw you when my sight was sore 𐙚 buzz niki : phone toss when it's risky and you hit send 𐙚 first day of my life bright eyes : i think i was blind before i met you 𐙚 decimal novo amor : i could be alright if you could rewrite my life

The second month of life at Birmingham City is strange. Strange, as in, it feels like floating in space. Strange, as in, it feels like something in between, like limbo. Strange, as in, Jude has not felt yet like he is where he belongs. Strange, as in, he misses Jobe the way he misses his parents the way he misses that old stain on his family sofa from when Jobe spilled boiled corn after tripping on his untied laces.

The academy is an academy, and he’ll be damned if he had not expected the dorm to be just like a dorm. But he thinks that he has widely miscalculated how concerned the people are over football here. Jude did not start out with a burning passion for football fresh out of the womb, after all, he always preferred picking flowers to bundle for his mother.

“I think I’m homesick,” he told Denise just earlier that week in a quiet call on the dorm’s emergency fire exit. “I miss Jobe so much.”

Who's to say that best friends cannot wrestle until the other bumps their leg hard enough on the edge of a coffee table to bruise? While Jude would occasionally have Jobe’s foot on his face to distract him from scoring the penalty in FIFA, they are definitely best friends. And he missed his best friend.

Denise only laughed when she heard the confession, and he felt the ghost of her fingers rubbing the back of his neck. “Homesick, or Jobesick?”

And that made Jude laugh too, because he never really considered homesick as a word containing two separate words. Never home, never sick. Just homesick. So when his mother replaced the vocal point of longing with the name of his brother, he almost faltered. A sentiment so widespread was suddenly customised to fit him.

“Yeah. Guess I’m Jobesick.”

Zakariya was sprawled across the floor of his dorm room when he suddenly began moaning about how sick he was of protein shakes and eggs for breakfast, craving the cheesebokki from that restaurant down the street. Jude wasn’t aware that he had the brain capacity to talk about anything other than Ronaldinho or his hot, older girlfriend, but there he was, practically drooling like a dog at the thought of a Korean cheat meal amongst the vegetables that they shove down your throat in the academy.

Jude’s encyclopaedia of Korean food ends with hot chicken wings, so he propped his head over a pillow, shifting to the edge of his bed to catch Zakariya’s attention.

“Cheesebokki?” He repeated, the word tasted foreign in his mouth. “Sounds good,” it didn’t sound like anything, “let’s go this sunday. After the practice match.”

“It’s spicy,” Zakariya warned, and Jude shrugged. He can handle spicy. Not any less than Zakariya, that is for sure. “Sure, man. If you think you can handle it. I’ll ask Ethan and Teddy if they wanna come along. Jamal, you should come too.”

Jude considered immediately backing off when he heard the names Zakariya brought up. He likes Zakariya. But he can’t say the same about Ethan, and Teddy, he is amicable with. Jamal, the only one he could already call a friend, couldn’t go. After matches, Sundays are reserved for church and his mother; they are about the same thing to Jamal anyway.

Jude called his mum to ask for her opinion—he’s similar to Jamal in this way—and she encouraged him to go.

“Maybe you’ll find that you and Ethan have much more in common than you initially thought.”

He doubted it. Denise was only saying that because she likes Alicia Ewart, Ethan’s mother. Ethan thinks he is too good for the academy, and Jude thinks he’s full of shit.

But he ended up going. He knows that a mother’s blessing eases the path. His mother’s especially.

No one in this world calls Olivia by her Korean name.

Haewon, to her, is simply not an interesting enough word.

She is not saying that she is anything more than ordinary, or even just an inch off of being riveting, but there are two people in just her family with her exact name: her great-aunt and a distant cousin. And despite most of Birmingham not having a clue on who those other Haewon’s are, they are, no less, two extra Haewon’s in her life.

And as a matter of fact, she was named after her great-aunt deliberately, like she is not allowed her own identity. To add icing on the cake, her Haewon translates roughly to sailor or seaman, or something like that; a name that grants nothing but strenuous expectations for her. Her great-aunt’s Haewon, however, translates to beautiful ocean.

Beautiful-Ocean-Haewon was Olivia’s grandmother’s younger sister.

Her grandmother died three months before her father turned four years old, and her grandfather before her father was even born. Yujae Jang was taken in by his aunt effective immediately. He thinks that she was so great (Olivia wouldn’t have a way of knowing as she died before she was even born). He thinks that she was what a mother is supposed to epitomise: unconditional love in a condition where condition is consequential.

But for someone who looks up to mother figures so much, Yujae sure finds it difficult to spare his own wife, the mother of his children, a cordial glance. And a man who does not respect his wife naturally despises his daughter.

He doesn’t have to say it. Olivia knows. It’s her chief theory in navigating her path; the lighthouse guiding her worn down seaboat. From the moment he named her sailor, she knew.

And she doesn’t like to admit it, but though her fragility stands on its toes, balancing on a tipping vase, what she feels, what she thinks, do not matter as much as she would like to believe. Being delicate is something she has long outgrown. It does not interest her anymore. Being frail brings nothing but heartache, and while her heart is not desensitised to stabwounds, she relishes in the fact that a straight face will save herself some embarrassment.

So, she embraces the ocean and sets sail as a seaman.

Names are meant to be prayers after all; some kind of prophecies that name-holders are cursed to fulfil. Her theory states that her father’s disappointment peaked the day she was born, and the little optimism he had gifted him a son three years later.

And this is a lot of thinking for a secondary school student, sure, but thinking crooked is something that Olivia does most days her father decides to scream at her for something trivial. She has gone from wishing him harm in her mind to taking part in the devout practice of self-pity. No one is going to calm her cries and rub her back. Not her mother, not her brother, and definitely not her father. She has got to do it herself.

Now, Philip, twelve years old, is wiping tabletops. And Olivia, fifteen years old, is trembling as she scribbles on some scratch papers, finishing her mathematics homework so that she can spend the rest of the night sobbing against her pillow.

“Welcome to Jang’s Chicken, how are you lot?”

The little bell above the heavy mahogany door just a few feet away from the cashier counter jingles; her nose is still tainted red and her cheeks are still surrendering to the tears streaming from her eyes.

The restaurant had been so quiet just a few moments ago, and the only sound you could hear was the choir of angry utensils cling-clang-ing against one another as Yujae washes the plate. Her mother is coating raw chicken with egg yolk and flour on one corner table, quiet as she has always been. Philip is cleaning the tables, then spraying some cleaning chemical only to wipe the same spot over and over. A piece of thread could cut through the silence.

But instead of a thread, it is broken by a horde of rowdy boys. Their windbreaker is familiar: a football academy from a couple of blocks away from the restaurant. They are bustling and filled with haste, looking at everything but her, scrutinising the humble decoration of Korean calligraphy all over the creaking walls of the family restaurant.

Olivia can see the spot where her shoes were laid just as she got home from tutoring that day, where she took them off in a hurry to rush to the loo, only for her father to yell at her when she forgot to place them in the cabinet next to the entrance. Then here comes these boys—customers—with their stupid cleats still attached to each of their feet, dirtying up the freshly swept floor, not having a clue what monstrosity their action would lead to if they were Olivia.

She huffs, wiping a dripping snot with the base of her palm.

Fathers can be so evil, she thinks, but her father especially.

The Birmingham F.C. Academy students have been regulars in Jang’s Chicken since as long as Olivia could remember. A group of students from a different year, just a few days ago, had visited the restaurant. Since she started working as a cashier three years ago, they have been coming in. Since before she was even born, they have been coming in. Olivia is not fazed with football; she is not fazed with boys who play football.

She gathers her hair, tying them in a low ponytail before pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“We’re good, how are you?”

The one that looks oldest—or tallest, at least—greets before stepping forward. He grabs one of the oily, limp laminated menus from the tabletop, holding them in a way that is visible to the rest of the crowd. Olivia smiles weakly and decides to not answer the small talk.

“We should get the party box.”

Olivia rubs her nose as she hides a sniffle. “That's 16 pieces of chicken,” she uses her finger to point at a menu on the table. “You can choose up to three flavours for the party box.”

She doesn’t know if she’s gotten good at hiding the nasal in her voice, or if they were nice enough to not point out how red her eyes are. By the way the leader of the bunch glances down at her as quick as he looks away, she guesses that it’s the latter.

From the corner of her eyes, she sees Lip taking a seat next to their mother. She shoots him a look and he sends her a shrug in return.

A boy peeks over the first boy’s shoulder. “What's soju?”

“That's booze,” another one slaps the back of his head lightly as Olivia focuses her attention back to them.

“We don't sell alcohol to underage customers,” she hurries in as well, and the boys nod.

“Obviously.” Murmurs of agreement rustles.

”I want the cheesebokki” — a cute way their restaurant had shortened ‘cheese tteokbokki’ — “and a can o’ Coke.”

A scoff escapes their leader. “Last time you got that, you shitted yourself for a week, didntcha, mate?”

Collective groans emit from the group and Olivia scrunches her nose.

”Not in front of the lady, E,” the cheesebokki enjoyer turns red. “Besides! It’s good,” his hand smacks the chest of a boy closest to him, “and Judey here says he’ll share with me.”

Olivia only smiles, just to be polite, and to hold back a sigh.

Jude has been watching the cashier girl from the back of the group.

The whole walk to Jang’s Chicken, he has been out of it. Nobody has mentioned it, so he thinks that maybe nobody noticed the way he shuffles quietly behind the other three, hands nuzzled deep in his outer. He pretends his huffs were for the cold and kicks invisible rocks to distract his own mind.

He made four chances at scoring just earlier, but none of them made it past the goalpost. And Jude is young enough to want to blame it on anyone else but him, but he is also mature enough to understand that it was nobody else’s fault but his own. The goalkeeper was always distracted, and there were no defenders trying to tackle the ball out of his feet. It was his muddled mind, he thinks, that the ball kept flying over the post.

He has been out of it, and the one to pull him out of being out of it is that cashier girl.

Nasally voice, weakly greeting them. It's her glasses that he notices first. They are big—definitely too big for her tiny face—with red frames taped up in the middle and on the sides. His eyes then travel to the bridge of her nose, and wouldn't you know it, the tip of her nose is tainted the same shade of scarlet.

He wonders why he finds it endearing: the way she holds back sniffles, the way she points out to the menu in exhalation. The more he examines her face, the more he sees her damp cheeks, her lips parting to make way for her breath, and the more is he drawn in. Strands of her hair keep falling even after she tugs them behind her ears, monotonically responding to his friend’s inquiries.

The back of Zakariya’s hand meets Jude chest, and he is taken out of his reverie, humming in agreement at whatever he had said.

“Guess we’ll do the party box, then?”

“Sure,” Jude’s murmurs blend in with the rest. He’s got no energy to go against Ethan. He’s there for the cheesebokki, anyway, and a chance of creating bountiful friendship with boys who are neither Jobe nor Jamal. Not chicken wings.

“‘lright then, the party box, one cheesebokki, and four can ‘o coke.”

She nods and pushes some buttons on the cashier, a loud and ancient machine that looks like someone’s prized possession that they would proudly reveal is older than him. For a moment, his gaze wanders to the fading football stickers—Ronaldo, Spurs, Real Madrid, Benzema, Marcelo—placed arbitrarily all over its body before going back to her.

“Which sauces would you like to go with?”

Honey mustard dip, sweet and sour sauce, and fire buffalo sauce.

Olivia cannot think of a combination more basic.

Teddy whips out his mother’s credit card in an instance, briefly telling the group to ping him their share of the money, and Zakariya complains about how he only has cash. Jude barely registers their banter.

They sit just far enough away from the lady and the boy dipping raw chicken to flour so that they wouldn’t hear their conversations, but close enough for the aroma of freshly fried chicken to wander out of the kitchen window and spike up his nose. He slides a chair out, a barrel of some sort with a wooden back nailed on to it.

Teddy takes the seat beside him. “You’ve been distracted, Judey.”

“I have,” as he sits, Jude looks back at the cashier. The girl is now at the counter, furiously holding back her bangs as she grips her pencil harder. “Think I should ask for her number?”

Teddy shrugs after a small laugh. Jude turns to him with an eyebrow raised. “Well, do whatever you want, but her dad’s a bit…”

“Evil,” Ethan interjects.

Zakariya scoffs. “‘Evil’s a bit of a big word ain’t it, E?”

Ethan grabs a pair of chopsticks Jude knows damn well he is not going to use, and fiddles with it, contending it against each other. “Well, he’s grumpy, that’s for sure.”

“My dad can be grumpy,” Jude insists, like he needs any of their permission. “Reckon her dad won't mind a nice young man like me asking for ‘er number.”

“Nice young man,” Ethan repeats, a little too mockingly to Jude’s liking.

“Well, I am a nice young man.”

“You’re a young man, that’s what you are,” Zakariya laughs, piling on Ethan’s mockery and they bump shoulders in mischief cackles. Jude shoots them a glare.

“You know what? I say do it,” Teddy grazes his knee against Jude’s. Jude looks at him funny. “Just do it, bruv, take the shot. Ethan’s just bitter ‘cuz he tried talking to her too.”

“Yeah?” At the short smirk on Teddy’s lips, curiosity creeps up Jude’s nerves, eyeing Ethan across from him. Teddy had just officially graduated from being on his amicable list to his like list. “So you got her number?”

“Ha,” a cynical snicker leaves Ethan’s lips. “Obviously not. Her dad got between us.”

“Evil,” Jude repeats, and the rest of the boys nod.

“Evil.”

Mr. Paisley, Olivia’s homeroom, insists that there is no absolute truth in the world except the truths that are backed with numbers. He’s a mathematics teacher, so it makes sense. And to Olivia, one plus one is, definitely, equal to two. But the absolute truth does not interest her, now, does it? Truths, not-truths. None of these really matters in the long run. What matters is how she is going to mend relationships she would not want to mend; whether she will grow up to be more her mother or more her father.

The scrap papers she is scribbling maths equations on was picked up from the large trash bin behind the church her parents go to. She doesn’t go, she is not interested, but her mother would occasionally come home to gift her and Philip excess church brochures that they can use to count, or write, on.

It’s the little ways that they save money. The anxiety that comes with having none was brought down to the children, even when they were born after the years where money had been a problem. That’s just how her family is: rigid, stiff, stationary. It’s the same way she is gripping on her pencil, with the tip of her fingers beginning to hurt, her nail beds turning red against her skin, pale for not having eaten anything aside from three slices of canned peach since breakfast.

“Hey.”

But just like that, her endless stream of self-loathing, maths-loathing, church-brochures-loathing, and Mr. Paisley-loathing thoughts are over.

Olivia slants her eyes as she tries to gain a better look at the boy calling out to her behind her foggy glasses. He is a part of the academy group—the logo, she knows, and that there are no other customers in the restaurant aside from them.

“I’ll have another side,” he offers her a short grin, taking one hand from the pocket of his windbreaker to pick up the menu, “the nuggets.”

She clears her throat against her fist, nodding her head as she stands. “A moment please,” Olivia steps sideways to the cashier, already forgetting what he looks like. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose again. “Nuggets, you can get the sweet and sour sauce with it, or the barbeque for an extra Pound and a half.”

“A pound and a half?”

“Yeah.”

He lets out a chuckle. “I’ll just do the sweet and sour sauce. It’s better anyway, yeah?”

“I like it better,” Olivia entertains the banter with a light laugh, rubbing the tip of her nose. There is a deep silence between them just for a second. “That’ll be seven and a half, please.”

“You’re crying.”

Olivia’s head snaps up.

She sees him in great clarity this time. He didn’t speak much if at all when his crowd were ordering, and she had not cared enough to examine the boy who had paid for their food, moreover some shorter lad on the back of the group. But there he stands before her, voice light yet thick—though no thicker than her brother’s brummie as she notes.

“Pardon me?”

The situation is so jarring that Olivia cannot help but be offended, even when she knows that she has been crying—is crying, even. She sniffles and feels another tear roll down her cheek.

“Nevermind,” he shakes his head. She watches the way his nose scrunches when he notices the offence in her tone, and he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone with a battered case. “Can I have your number?”

“What?”

The busy-bee movements from the rest of the restaurant halt. From the corner of her room, she can see the group of boys holding their breaths, her brother doing the same thing too, and her mother staring daggers at her.

“Your phone number.”

“Like,” —

She hesitates, this time fully glancing to the kitchen window only to see her dad slanting his eyes, shooting glares at either her or at the Birmingham Academy boy, she cannot tell.

— “to order food from us?”

He shakes his head. “Like, to text you. If you wanna.”

“But… do you still want the nuggets?”

He laughs and places his phone on the counter, fishing for a wallet from a patch in his windbreaker. He places ten quid next to his phone. “Sure. Let’s get that number sorted out first, though.”

She grabs his phone, and a victorious smile appears on Jude’s face. His stupid plan—”plan”, loosely translating to: just going for the shot—works, and now he has a pretty girl typing her number into his phone.

His eyes dart to the multiple worksheets and eraser dust scattered next to the rugged down cashier, trying to ignore the growing commotion from the lads. “What are you working on?”

The girl huffs a bitter chuckle, her swollen eyes glancing up at him under her bangs for a moment. “Mathematics. Are you any good at it?”

He shakes his head. “The only thing I’m good at is football, Miss.”

She raises an eyebrow, a curious zest sparkling her eyes. “You're a football player?”

“Not yet, not officially,” Jude shrugs. He points to his academy logo on the chest of his windbreaker. “Birmingham F.C.”

“Birmingham academy?”

“Yup,” he nods. “One and only.”

She chuckles again, though he recognizes the lack of bitterness this time. “Y’must be pretty good then, huh?”

“I try my best.”

The muscles in her cheeks are begging for her to smile, but she knows that her father is watching, and she cannot show humiliating emotions before him, not after a bad fight. The tears were bad enough already. She is not going to let the giddy feeling when a boy flirts with her show on her face.

Bitterness bites even harder when she feels, hears, and notices Yujae shuffling closer to her. Olivia hopes she didn’t mess up her number, and returns the phone to the counter without even filling in her name, afraid that her father would grab it and toss it across the room. Or something dramatic like that.

“Haewon.”

She sighs. No one on this Earth calls Olivia by her Korean name. No one but her father. What is it with him and ruining every single thing she has going on in her life?

“Don’t chat with the customers?” He says—in Korean, Olivia guesses to intimidate the boy—though the tone of his voice makes it seem like he is more confused than anything else, and she wants to laugh; she can’t help but share the confusion. It really is not like her to talk to a boy, it’s not like her to talk to a boy who is a stranger, and it definitely is not like her to give out her number to a boy who is a stranger.

“I wasn’t chatting,” she knows that trying to defend herself will not result in the most ideal outcome in the taut stalemate, but the pettiness that runs in Yujae’s blood also lives in hers, so she does it anyway. “He was ordering some side dishes.”

“Is that it?”

She tries not paying attention to the boy as much this time, and punches the button on the cashiering system. She takes the tenner from the counter and places it in the cash drawer.

“What?” Her father hovers next to her when she doesn’t answer. “He asked for your number, didn’t he?”

“He did,” Olivia says, keeping her tone flat.

“And you gave it to him?”

“I did,” she frowns this time, glancing up at her father. “Why?”

“Why did you give him your number?”

“Why not?”

Yujae peers deep into her, like trying to gauge her weak spot, anything that would offer him some kind of reclamation over the disrespect she sends his way. He ends the eye contact with a scoff.

“You won’t get far in life with that mouth and that attitude.”

Olivia rolls her eyes and focuses back on the cashier, letting it print out the receipts after slamming close the cash drawer.

“I’m not trying to get anywhere far in life,” she mumbles, just as he walks away. Finally, she looks back at the boy, going back to English. “Here’s your change and receipt. Thanks.”

“Thanks,” Jude grabs his change and looks at the direction of the grumpy chef—Ethan is right. He does seem evil. He looks back at the girl, “I’ll text you tonight.”

She scoffs, and it looks like she is going to cry more now, but is trying hard to act nonchalant. “I’ll talk to you, then.”

He smiles, and is somewhat not bothered that she doesn’t return it. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Unknown Number: Hello?

Olivia’s face scrunches as she lay on her bed, before breaking into a smile.

The thinning mattress under her sinks in the middle. It had always been that way, and it’s generally more comfortable for her to lay on the edge of the bed. It’s closer to where her phone charger is too. And yet, though she can name a hundred reasons why the rundown house her family and her previously lived in was better than living on top of the restaurant, this—having her own, albeit very small, bedroom and not having to share with Philip—is definitely one of the good things about moving.

Me: hello?

Olivia used to take the top bunk while Philip, sleep tosser, brought earthquakes to her vocabulary.

Unknown Number: I’m the one who asked for your number earlier on today Unknown Number: Remember me?

She giggles to the back of her hand. Now, she doesn’t have to worry about suppressing laughter. There is no brother under her to judge her.

Me: yeah Me: birmingham academy? Unknown Number: That’s right Unknown Number: My name’s Jude by the way Unknown Number: Sorry for not introducing myself earlier Me: it’s calm Me: my name’s olivia Me: it’s nice to meet you, jude!! Unknown Number: It’s nice to meet you too! Unknown Number: Olivia is a pretty name

Rolling her eyes, she huffs through her smile, turning so that she is laying on her stomach, her chin propped on a pillow.

Me: i’ve been told Me: olivia jang Me: like the restaurant Unknown Number: So your father is Mister Jang? Me: more or less Me: he’s a bit scary Me: sorry for earlier Unknown Number: I’m Jude Bellingham Unknown Number: It’s fine Unknown Number: My dad’s a sergeant so I get it Unknown Number: I didn’t land you in trouble though did I? Me: ohh sergeant Me: your dad’s Sergeant Bellingham then Me: no it’s fine Jude Bellingham: More or less Jude Bellingham: Alright, good then

She breathes, going to type a random, stupid question to keep the small talk up but stops when she notices that he is typing. Only for him to stop as well. Bleh.

Me: sorry what were you typing? Me: i stopped typing cuz i saw you were typing Me: sorry Jude Bellingham: Wait yeah I did the same Jude Bellingham: Just wanted to ask which school you go to Jude Bellingham: Small talk, yknow?

She chuckles.

Me: i go to colebourne Me: stechford Jude Bellingham: Stechford is a bit of a walk from King’s Norton isn’t it? Me: well it isn’t like i walk 10 miles a day Jude Bellingham: Still, no? Me: used to live there, but my mum and dad decided to move to be nearer to the restaurant Me: now we live ON the restaurant Me: hahaha

She wonders if she talks too much.

She doesn’t usually speak to boys this way, no—so fluently, so unabashed. While she is open to befriending anyone and everyone, she just can’t find it within herself to open up to the opposite gender. Even with girls, she feels like she wouldn’t tell the history of her residency to someone she just met.

Jude, though, feels different.

It’s how they met, there is no doubt. Just a few hours ago she was made aware of his existence, and whether she wanted to or not, she was sobbing before him, all sniffly with her runny nose. And on top of that, her father had come to scold her. Jude had seen her struggle with school work, seen her cry, and seen her speak in a language she could not call mother tongue. All on the same day. All in the same five minutes.

Even to her girl friends, she had never conveyed such vulnerability. The peeling of her emotions are reserved for her father’s disowning gaze, her mother and brother’s ignorance, and the heedless minds of the restaurant’s patrons. Jude just became the first one to take a shot at cracking her open.

Jude Bellingham: Oh wow Jude Bellingham: Doesn’t it get tiring? Jude Bellingham: The commuting

She smiles, seeing the text, tossing from one side of her bed to the other.

Me: a bit but Me: just a few years left then i’ll be off to uni Me: then i’ll be commuting to uni instead haha

Jesus. That’s like—what?—the fourth time she’s sent three text bubbles in a row. She bites her lips and tries to justify her own excitement: well, it isn’t like he is economical with his replies either, though his syntax hints at being a bit rigid, he sends her the same amount of bubbles.

Olivia tosses again, to the other side of her body.

Jude Bellingham: Yeah? Jude Bellingham: How old are you? Me: i’m 15!! Me: n you?? Jude Bellingham: 14

A burst of light giggles escaping her lips.

Me: woooooow you’re like a little kid Jude Bellingham: Hahaha shut up

She bites her lips.

Me: btw Me: you got an insta jude? Jude Bellingham: I do!!

Olivia’s body awakens, shifting all its weight to her knees before flopping into a curl in the middle of her bed. Her fingers hover above her keyboards. Shit. she initiated, so she must be the one that asks first.

Me: wanna follow each other?

Groaning, she shuts her phone and flicks it two feet away from her, dramatically slapping both her palms—damp due to anxiety—against her face. Her phone dings as soon as it lands on the thinning bedcover.

Jude Bellingham: Sure!!!

Olivia plants her face into her pillow, lets out a muffled kind-of-bellow, before telling herself to get her act together.

Me: what's yours? Jude Bellingham: I’ve got a private one Jude Bellingham: It's jujudedebell

“jujudedebell,” she murmurs to herself, biting the inside of her cheeks.

Me: jujudedebell Me: 😂😂😂 Me: that's such a cute username Jude Bellingham: Hahaha Jude Bellingham: I gotta keep it lowkey, you know?

Olivia rolls her eyes and switches over to the Instagram app, typing the username into the search bar and requesting to follow the first account she sees.

Me: i requested to follow you!! Jude Bellingham: Alright!! Jude Bellingham: You're… viajangoli? 😂

Jude Bellingham: That's worse than mine Me: shut up!! Me: you should help me think of a better handle Jude Bellingham: I’ll let you know when something crosses my mind Jude Bellingham: Oh, miss Jang Jude Bellingham: You're popular huh?? Me: nooooo Me: i just meet a lot of people through internships and volunteering Me: i bet you'll be real popular soon too jude

Isn’t that how football careers usually go?

She bet he’s real popular even right now—proper, actual popular. He said that he’s got a private Instagram; she’s not even going to look up his public one.

Jude Bellingham: Yeah? Jude Bellingham: Also Jude Bellingham: Your most recent post Jude Bellingham: That’s in London ain’t it? Me: yes yes yes!! Me: went there last month for a school trip Me: best day of my life Me: been there? Jude Bellingham: Yeah with my family Jude Bellingham: Best day huh? Me: yeah Me: i wanna work there Jude Bellingham: Ohh Jude Bellingham: Going to London for school too? Me: my dad wont let me leave birmi for uni Me: but i want to work there Me: wbu Me: u got any dream job? Jude Bellingham: Well I’m a fan of this one football player Jude Bellingham: Zinedine Zidane Jude Bellingham: He’s my role model Jude Bellingham: He’s working for Real Madrid now Jude Bellingham: So maybe Real Madrid Jude Bellingham: Hahahaha

She raises an eyebrow at the football club.

Me: what’s so funny? Jude Bellingham: I don’t know Jude Bellingham: Real Madrid just seems so big Me: right now Me: we don’t know jude bellingham 10 years from now yeah? Jude Bellingham: You think it’s gonna take me 10 years to get into Real Madrid? Me: well if you believe in yourself Me: maybe five Me: or even three Me: or tomorrow Jude Bellingham: Tomorrow? 😂 Jude Bellingham: Lmao Me: idk Me: i don’t much about football but real madrid’s my brother favourite team Jude Bellingham: They are? Me: he’s crazy about marcelo or i don’t know Me: sorry lol Jude Bellingham: You’re good Jude Bellingham: How old is your brother? Me: he was born in 2005 Me: so like 12 Jude Bellingham: Oh, my brother’s the same age Me: oh you got a brother too? Jude Bellingham: Yeah, his name’s Jobe! Me: oh cute Me: jude and jobe Me: mine’s olivia and lip Me: from philip Jude Bellingham: Liv and Lip? Me: nobody really calls me liv Jude Bellingham: Well Jude Bellingham: I can be the first

Olivia shuts her phone. She spreads her arms wide on the bed, now laying in the middle, her back aching slightly as she stares up at the ceiling. Her mouth parts, letting the air circulate freely in and out her throat. After a while of trying to digest the odd feeling in her chest, letting it run down to her stomach where it hatches into butterflies, she raises her shaky hands to hold her phone over her face.

Me: mhmm Me: yeah sure you can

#CALL MY BLUFF !#໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა : 𝑬𝑼𝑷𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑨 𝑺𝑶𝑳𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑨 #jude bellingham #jude #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #bellingham x reader #real madrid #real madrid fic #real madrid x reader #football fic #football x reader #jude bellingham x original character #original character #jude bellingham x oc

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hellsitedotcom · 2 months ago

Text

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

*·˚ PRETEND IT'S THE FIRST TIME ft. Moze *·˚

words: ~4k

This is a "continuation" of those First Kiss headcanons I made a while ago! [Linked in my pinned post] I literally lost my mind with this, and I'm unsure how I feel about it, but I've spent too long on it to just...not post it. [Also on AO3]

warnings/info: first part of the chapter features Guinaifen as your friend; I don't think any warnings necessary? maybe some angst, but I don't want what really qualifies as angst. [Is it obvious that I never post my writing and have no idea how to tag it?]

English isn't my native language!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

‘’Hello? Are you even listening to me?’’

Torn from your thoughts when someone suddenly started waving a hand in front of your face, you blinked in surprise before glancing over at the woman walking beside you, her expression a mixture of frustration and confusion. ‘’I feel like I’ve been talking to myself for the last hour,’’ Guinaifen huffed, crossing her arms while waiting for an explanation from you, ‘’Did you even catch any of the things I said?’’

‘’I’m sorry, Gui,’’ you sighed, offering her an apologetic smile before straightening up, ‘’I was just…thinking about something.’’ That was one way to explain it. You had been thinking about said ‘’something’’ for the past couple of days, and it had become apparent to anyone with a functioning pair of eyes. Even your colleagues at work had commented on your absentmindedness, given how clumsy and forgetful it had made you since…that day.

Next to you, Guinaifen shook her head, though there was no ill-intend in her reaction, ‘’I’ve noticed that much. I’m telling you, you need to work less. The stress is probably just getting to you.’’ ‘’When I picked you up this morning, I had your neighbors come up to me to ask if you were okay,’’ she sighed, staring at you, ‘’He said you haven’t left your apartment for anything but work in days. What’s going on?’’

You weren’t sure yourself, you thought. Since your transfer to the Yaoqing, your life had actually improved tremendously. You couldn’t remember the last time you were that excited and happy on the Luofu, and you hadn’t mourned your old life since. Yet recently, you felt like you were again stuck in that same everyday routine you had dreamed of escaping from back on the other flagship. And all because of one dumb, intrusive decision.

‘’I don’t know,’’ you sighed, hoping your friend wouldn’t catch the lie, ‘’It’s not work, I promise. I’ve never had a job I loved that much.’’ ‘’Maybe my subconsciousness is trying to tell me something,’’ you suggested, shrugging, ‘’I mean, it’s been a while since I was on the Luofu. Maybe I’m homesick without realizing it.’’

At that, the woman beside you just chuckled, throwing an arm around you to pull you into a side hug, ‘’Well, see what happens when you never visit! Huohuo and the others miss you.’’ Much to your relief, Guinaifen didn’t notice the lie, or at least, she didn’t call you out if she did. Instead, she began recalling recent stories from the Luofu as if trying to help your alleged ‘’homesickness’’.

‘’You know, I’m sure even the General would appreciate seeing you again,’’ she hummed as you made your way back to your apartment, ‘’Actually, I was hoping to drag Sushang and Huohuo along with me, but that didn’t really work out. That’s on me, though. I should’ve planned it better.’’

You chuckled as you continued listening to her, this time determined not to get distracted again as you watched her. Something about the woman’s optimism and endless energy helped lift your mood, silencing the overbearing thoughts in your head, though another emotion threatened to plague you now: Guilt. Keeping secrets from your close friends was never easy, but how were you supposed to explain to her what had happened?

By the time you arrived at the alley leading to your apartment, you felt lighter, the best you had in days. ‘’Anyway, I’m sure Sushang will want to tell you herself,’’ Guinaifen huffed, stepping in front of you, ‘’You really need to visit us soon. We need to get the group back together again! And don’t tell me Feixiao won’t let you leave!’’

‘’Well, I’ve not really talked to her in a while,’’ you admitted sheepishly, avoiding your friend’s eyes. ‘’But,’’ you quickly added, hoping to distract from that topic, ‘’I’ll see what I can do, okay? I can’t promise you anything, though.’’

You breathed a sigh of relief when the woman didn't question your words, merely rolling her eyes before she continued talking about yet another thing on her mind. Watching her head toward your apartment, you hesitated to follow when the sudden feeling of being watched made your skin crawl. Is someone there?

A glance over your shoulder toward the empty street behind you didn’t help calm your nerves, yet before you could look around any further, Guinaifen’s voice called out to you, ‘’And you’re not paying attention again. Seriously, what’s going on with you?’’

There it was again, that guilt plaguing you. You checked the street behind you one last time before walking over to your friend, an apologetic expression on your face. ‘’I’m sorry,’’ you sighed, fiddling with your hands, ‘’I just- had this feeling someone was watching us. I didn’t mean to ignore you.’’

‘’Why would someone be watching us?’’ the woman huffed with a raised brow, ‘’Besides, even if someone was watching us, why care? It’s not like we’re breaking any rules.’’ ‘’Are you sure that everything’s alright?’’ she insisted, her usually relaxed expression now serious.

‘’No- I mean, yes, I- Fuck,’’ you just groaned, dragging your hands down your face, ‘’I don’t know. I’m not even sure how to explain it. It’s ridiculous, really.’’ Before she could ask any further questions, you pushed past her toward your home, ‘’It’s really not that important. I just made a dumb mistake, and it’s kind of been haunting me ever since.’’

Guinaifen was far from convinced as she caught up to you, blocking your way, ‘’Oh, come on now! I’ve seen you make dozens of mistakes before. You never act this way because of a stupid mistake! Spill it, what happened?’’

‘’I made a mistake in a conversation,’’ you tensely elaborated, wrapping your arms around yourself, ‘’I…said the wrong thing, and I’ve not had the chance to fix it yet. H- They’ve been avoiding me since then, I guess.’’ Or maybe you’ve been avoiding him, no? Suddenly, the feeling of being watched made you even more nervous. Was he watching you?

Your friend perked up at your response, her interest piqued, ‘’What do you mean, you said the wrong thing? How bad of a thing could you have possibly said?’’ Oh, guilt was a beautiful feeling, wasn’t it? Especially with how strong it was growing the more you talked to Guinaifen.

‘’Well,’’ you struggled to find an answer, unsure how to continue building on your lie as your face turned red, ‘’I- urgh, fuck. I didn’t really say something wrong, you know. I…did something wrong? I made a dumb, intrusive decision-’’

‘’Oh my god,’’ the woman interrupted, her eyes wide, ‘’You kissed someone.’’

‘’How did you deduce that from one sentence?’’

‘’...I didn’t. I just thought it would be a funny reaction,’’ Guinaifen smirked, winking at you before the realization settled in, ‘’Wait, you kissed someone?! Who?!’’

‘’Keep your voice down!’’ you whisper-yelled, covering her mouth with your hand, ‘’Fucks sake, Gui. I don’t need the entire Yaoqing to know about it!’’ After making sure she wouldn’t start screaming again, you took a step back and sighed, ‘’He’s a good friend. We were…hanging out, I guess, and I got caught up in the moment and had this intrusive thought to just…yeah, and now I’ve not seen him since then.’’

‘’Oh. Oh wow,’’ the woman seemed at a loss for words, processing the information you just shared, ‘’I mean, uhm. Well, have you tried texting him?’’

‘’Seriously?’’ ‘’What?’’ she huffed defensively, pouting, ‘’I’ve never had that happen to me. I’m a little lost right now, okay?’’

‘’Well, you’re not the only one,’’ you muttered under your breath, walking toward your apartment door, ‘’I was hoping that maybe he told Feixiao about it, but she doesn’t seem to know anything. Jiaoqiu’s been acting like he knows something, but- yeah.’’

At that, Guinaifen’s mouth fell open, ‘’Wait. I need you to repeat what you just said.’’ Yet, before you could, the woman herself did it, ‘’You were hoping that he told Feixiao? As in, the General? You kissed the General’s friend?!’’

‘’Technically, he’s her personal Shadow Guard,’’ you admitted under your breath, wincing when Guinaifen screamed.

‘’What?!’’

‘’I told you to keep your voice down!’’

‘’How do you expect me to keep my voice down after telling me all this?!’’ she whisper-yelled, flailing her hands, ‘’You just- You kissed the General’s personal Shadow Guard?!’’

Well, at least you didn’t feel guilty anymore. You held your hand up to stop the woman from rambling, taking a deep breath before answering, ‘’Can we do this tomorrow, please? I promise I’ll tell you everything, okay? But right now, I’m just getting tired.’’

Despite not being satisfied with your answer, Guinaifen agreed with a deflated groan, ‘’Alright, fine. But I get to tell Sushang and the others-’’

‘’Absolutely not,’’ you scoffed with a raised brow, a warning in your eyes, ‘’I don’t need the entire Xianzhou Alliance to know about this, okay? I’m serious, Gui.’’ ‘’I need you to promise me that you won’t be talking about it with anyone, okay?’’ you insisted, internally already expecting the worst.

But, to your surprise, the woman nodded slowly, ‘’Alright, alright, you have my word. Only because I love you so much!’’ ‘’But that means you’ll have to tell me everything tomorrow, alright?’’ she countered, walking up to you, ‘’I need all the details, understood?’’

‘’Understood,’’ you sighed, struggling to hide your nervousness as you embraced her, ‘’Come on, you should get back to your hotel room. It’s getting late.’’

‘’I’ll see you tomorrow then?’’

‘’Yeah,’’ you muttered, a hand resting on your apartment’s doorknob, ‘’See you tomorrow, sunshine.’’ With that, you watched her disappear down the alley before unlocking your front door and slipping inside your apartment.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

‘’Fuck,’’ you groaned, falling back against the wooden door. Well, today didn’t go quite as planned, did it? But then, did any of your recent days? After everything, today was still one of your better days since screwing up your relationship with-

‘’Moze? ’’

A little stunned, you blinked, hoping you were just imagining things. Yet, when the man’s silhouette didn’t disappear from your doorway, a nervous chuckle escaped your lips, ‘’What are you doing here? How did you even get inside in the first place?’’

‘’Through your balcony door,’’ the man calmly replied, watching you from the shadows of the hallway, ‘’You forgot to lock it.’’

‘’I- And you just decided to let yourself in?’’ you muttered in disbelief, straightening up as you made your way toward him, ‘’How long have you been waiting for me?’’ In the dim light, you could barely make out anything but his eyes, violet orbs watching your every move.

The man just stood there, seemingly indifferent to the fact that he just trespassed on your property. ‘’Not that long,’’ he just replied, his expression obscured by shadows, ‘’Feixiao told me that you had visitors, so I figured you’d be home somewhat late. I think we got here around the same time.’’

‘’Well, that’s- okay,’’ you sighed before shaking your head and meeting his gaze again, ‘’Listen, I- Can you just give me a minute real quick? I need some water.’’ Today really feels like one big joke, you thought to yourself while pushing past him, careful not to touch him as you headed toward the kitchen, ‘’Do you want anything?’’

The man soundlessly followed after you, his presence unfortunately doing the opposite of offering you comfort, ‘’No, thank you. I don’t want to inconvenience you even further.’’ ‘’And I apologize for not informing you of my visit,’’ he muttered almost hesitantly, leaning against your kitchen wall, ‘’I didn't think of it. I’m sorry.’’

‘’Don’t rack your brains over it,’’ you dismissed his concern, pouring yourself a cup of water, ‘’I mean, I haven’t cleaned the place in days, but you'll have to deal with that now.’’ ‘’Besides,’’ you hummed, taking a sip of water, ‘’I’m sure you’ll gladly help me clean up if I ask nicely enough, no?’’ Is this really the right time for some lighthearted joking? Well, you certainly hoped it would at least ease the awkwardness.

Moze, bless his soul, just furrowed his brows, meeting your gaze, ‘’If you need me to, I can help. I don’t mind.’’

‘’Is that why you’re here?’’ you hesitantly asked, turning to face him, ‘’Just for some small talk? I mean, I do appreciate the visit, but it doesn’t usually warrant you breaking into my home.’’ There was a part of you genuinely hoping he’d just share some random information with you before leaving again, but deep down, you knew where this conversation would eventually lead. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have practically avoided each other for the past few days.

And, as expected, Moze confirmed your suspicion. ‘’No, I was hoping we could talk about what happened,’’ he explained, your nervosity growing with each word, ‘’Jiaoqiu thought it might be the best course of action.’’

‘’So, he knows?’’ you hesitantly inquired, tapping your finger on the kitchen counter, ‘’I mean, that we- that I- fuck, Moze, I’m so bloody sorry.’’ You stepped away from the counter, wrapping your arms around yourself as the words uncontrollably spilled from your lips, ‘’I should’ve apologized a lot earlier, I know, but I was just- bloody scared of your reaction.’’

‘’I shouldn’t have kissed you,’’ you sighed, unable to meet his gaze, ‘’I- I’m sorry I made things awkward. I wasn’t thinking, I just-’’ ‘’I should’ve said something first anyway, instead of just- doing it without warning,’’ you continued, waving your hand around, ‘’I don’t know why I did it, okay? I just- fuck.’’

The man merely watched you, waiting for you to finish before gently interrupting your rambling, ‘’I’m not angry.’’ ‘’Not to mention that I didn’t act any better,’’ he reminded you, making you stop in your tracks, ‘’I just left you on that rooftop without saying a word. Jiaoqiu chewed me out for it.’’

‘’I mean, I kissed you without your consent,’’ you muttered, your hands dropping to your sides, ‘’You had every right to just…up and leave. You’re not at any fault here.’’

‘’Well, Jiaoqiu thinks differently,’’ Moze spoke, pushing himself off the wall, ‘’He said I should’ve talked to you sooner.’’ You watched him walk around the kitchen island, keeping a respectful distance from you, ‘’Though, he did call us both idiots.’’

You chuckled, though the sound more hysterical than you intended, ‘’He’s not wrong, is he? I mean- I did kind of fuck that up. I really should’ve just- said something instead of expecting you to do so. I’m sorry, I- suck at this stuff.’’

‘’I think we both know I’m not the best at conversations either,’’ he replied, and for a split-second, you thought you caught him smiling at you, ‘’Maybe we should let Jiaoqiu and your friend do this for us.’’

‘’Absolutely not, that’s a horrible idea,’’ you interrupted, the thought alone making you opposed to the idea, ‘’I’d never hear the end of it.’’ ‘’Do you, uh, think Jiaoqiu told Feixiao?’’ you wondered, glancing over at him, ‘’I mean, I doubt he would do it, but you know him better than I do.’’

Moze was quiet for a moment, allowing you to move a little closer to him, ‘’Admittedly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did tell the General, but I trust him enough not to until this is all over. You don’t need to worry about that.’’

‘’Oh, I’ll worry regardless,’’ you sighed, rubbing your temples, ‘’I’ve realized I’m really good at that. Worrying, overthinking, the whole thing.’’ ‘’I’ve had people at work come to me these past days to make sure I was alright,’’ there was a self-deprecating tone to your words as you recounted the past days, ‘’And earlier, Gui told me that some of my neighbors approached her to ask about my well-being. Worrying was the only thing I was doing since, you know.’’

In the dimly lit room, you couldn’t make out Moze’s expression as he watched you. Then, unexpectedly, he spoke with a gentleness you had never heard from him before, ‘’I didn’t know this was affecting you so much.’’

Your eyes widened at his words, tearing your gaze from the floor to meet his. For a second, a mixture of fear and uncertainty crossed your face before you collected yourself, clearing your throat, ‘’Well, I thought I screwed up after you just left.’’ Then, you looked away again, your voice more quiet, ‘’I guess I was terrified of losing you.’’

The silence that followed was unbearable to you, a throwback to those nerve-wracking minutes right after you had your first kiss. Internally, you were cursing yourself out, reprimanding yourself for being so open with Moze, but could you really blame yourself?

‘’Can you please say something?’’ you whispered hesitantly, wrapping your arms around yourself, nails digging into the skin of your upper arms, ‘’I’m getting a sense of déjà vu.’’

‘’I’m sorry,’’ the man apologized, the gentleness still there, ‘’I should’ve said something back then. I- I guess I panicked. I’ve never-’’ He fell silent before finishing the sentence, pulling his hood down to obscure his face.

‘’I- I didn’t mean to put you in that position,’’ you quietly muttered, the grip on your arms weakening, ‘’I don’t know why I- There were so many times before that where I was in perfect control of my thoughts and actions, but that day? I can’t even explain it.’’

‘’You wanted to kiss me before?’’ Maybe you should learn when to shut up, no? Moze was already staring at you when you looked up, a storm raging in his violet eyes.

Hesitantly, you shrugged, taking a deep breath before elaborating, ‘’I guess I did. Do- Do you remember the last Wardance? When…Hoolay escaped.’’ After Moze nodded, you continued, ‘’After everything was over, after I finally found you, I just- yeah. I think that was the first time I wanted to kiss you.’’

There it was again: The unbearable silence. Maybe you really shouldn’t admit all these things so openly . But, catching you by surprise in the process, Moze didn’t let it stretch this time, his voice growing unsteadier with each word, ‘’Why didn’t you do it?’’

‘’I- I didn’t think it would’ve been the right moment for it,’’ you muttered with furrowed brows, gesturing around with your hand as if to emphasize your point, ‘’I mean, you were all injured, not to mention the entire Borisin crisis. I didn’t want to add to your problems.’’

‘’You’re never a problem to me,’’ the man replied, straightening up, ‘’I might not be the best at showing it, but I care about you deeply.’’ ‘’Otherwise, I wouldn’t have kissed you back that day, don't you think?’’ he added, his voice quieter.

For a moment, you thought your heart would jump out of your chest, the beating drowning out all the noise around you as you processed his words. He did kiss you back, didn’t he? ‘’I figured maybe you just- I don’t know, had a moment of weakness?’’ you rambled, growing more nervous again, ‘’I mean, I didn't- I know you kissed me back, but I didn’t think it meant anything, I guess.’’

‘’You…thought it didn’t mean anything?’’ ‘’I was panicking, okay!’’ you argued defensively, ‘’I mean, you just disappeared without a word after that, remember? How did you think I’d react?’’

Moze didn’t have an answer for that, watching you silently while you continued to ramble, ‘’I’m not blaming you, I swear. I just- there wasn’t really a positive way in which I could’ve reacted to the situation, you know? How would you have reacted if you had been in my shoes?’’

Once again, no answer. Admittedly, you wouldn’t have one either if you were in his shoes. Well, and that’s that on it being an awkward situation. ‘’I feel like I’m just making this worse, aren’t I?’’ you muttered, offering him a weak smile, ‘’I’m sorry. Again. I don’t think I can apologize enough for causing- well, all of this.’’

‘’Did the kiss mean something to you?’’

Moze’s interruption caught you off-guard, eyes widening in surprise. Well, you've already admitted to wanting to kiss him a handful of times before. Confessing your feelings can't possibly lead to a worse outcome, right? ...Right? Truth be told, you weren't really sure what outcome this entire conversation was heading toward anyway, so you might as well be completely honest with him now.

Still, it took you a moment to reply, afraid of being this vulnerable. ‘’I wouldn’t have kissed you if it didn’t,’’ you hesitantly admitted, looking away, ‘’I...care about you, Moze. A lot more than I probably should. More than normal friends should.’’

‘’I think I realized even before the Wardance, but I just- hoped it’ll go away,’’ you chuckled, the sound hollow, ‘’And when it didn’t, I just kept hoping. Which obviously failed, given, you know.’’

You weren’t sure what Moze was thinking, too scared to look at him. Another silence settled between you, making you feel restless as you waited for him to say something. Anything. Please just don’t leave this time.

And he didn’t. Instead, Moze stepped in front of you, tilting your face up to look at him, his violet eyes roaming across your face until he met your gaze, ‘’Can you- Can you kiss me again, please? Pretend it’s the first time?’’

His voice was surprisingly soft, barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat. Did you get that right? ‘’You want me to kiss you?’’ you breathed out, a dozen questions running through your head as you stared at him, ‘’Are- Are you sure?’’

‘’I’ve never been this sure about anything else in my life,’’ the man muttered, caressing your cheek, ‘’I’ve noticed that I- felt different around you around the time you got transferred to the Yaoqing, but I didn’t think much of it until…well, recently. The realization didn't hit me until I talked to Jiaoqiu about it and he put it into words for me.’’

‘’Oh’’

‘’Is…that all you want to say?’’

‘’To be honest, I never thought I’d be in this situation,’’ you admitted, still processing what he had just told you, ‘’I- I can’t believe I was terrified of losing you like, ten minutes ago, and now we’re…here.’’

‘’That’s…a good thing, isn’t it?’’

‘’I think this a better outcome than I had imagined possible,’’ you huffed, straightening up, ‘’The only thing I need to worry about now is explaining everything to Guinaifen.’’ Then, still shaking from nervousness, you leaned forward, ghosting your lips over his, ‘’May I?’’

‘’...You may.’’

And you did, gently pressing your lips against his as if afraid all this was just your imagination, that he'd vanish the second you touched him. Yet, when his arm wrapped around your waist to pull you closer, you knew you weren’t dreaming. ‘’You’re…really okay with this, right?’’ you whispered between kisses, glancing up at him, ‘’I’m not just hearing what I want to hear?’’

Moze merely responded by pressing his lips to yours again, hand wandering to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. ‘’You worry too much,’’ he eventually muttered before pressing his forehead against yours.

‘’It’s a talent,’’ you chuckled, slightly out of breath but audibly relieved, ‘’Besides, the only reason I was so worried in the first place were you.’’

‘’May I remind you that you were the one kissing me without warning?’’ ‘’Alright, alright-’’ you groaned, just barely containing your joy, ‘’I’ll never live this down, will I?’’

You freed yourself from Moze’s grasp, turning to head toward your bedroom before stopping and glancing back at him, hesitating, ‘’Do- Do you mind staying for the night? I don’t…want you to leave just yet.’’

‘’If that’s what you want, then of course,’’ the man reassured, ‘’Just don’t start complaining when I wake you up too early.’’

‘’Don’t make me regret this, big guy,’’ you chuckled, offering him your hand while you made your way toward the bedroom, ‘’Thank you, by the way, For…well, everything.’’

‘’Always.’’

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

#moze x reader #honkai x reader #hsr moze #moze #hsr #honkai star rail #i want to kms i lost my mind with this :D if it flops i'm deleting myself from the face of earth ngl

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earthlybeam · 27 days ago

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May I request a Glorfindel or Feren with a modern human stuck in middle earth who can’t sleep with it dark. Like back home they have fairy lights and the tv on low? 😅 sorry if requests are closed arent open or you don’t take them I’m new to your blog 😅

Hey there! No worries, I’m totally happy to take requests, and I’m excited to write this for you! 😊 I love the idea of a modern human stuck in Middle-earth, especially with something as relatable as not being able to sleep in the dark. I’ll make sure to incorporate that longing for the little comforts of home, like the fairy lights and low TV. I’ll also give Glorfindel or Feren some cute moments of confusion with these modern items—they’re bound to be curious about those!

↓

Glrofindel, Feren Version below

☀️𝓖𝓵𝓸𝓻𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓵

Glorfindel x Modern Human (You)

The nights in Rivendell were beautiful, almost unbearably so. The stars shone like scattered diamonds across an inky sky, the air was crisp and cool, and the ever-present sound of waterfalls in the distance gave the valley an ethereal quality. For most, it was a paradise—a place of unparalleled serenity. For you, it was anything but. The stillness pressed against you like a weight. Back home, there was always something—a hum of electricity, the faint murmur of the city outside your window, the comforting glow of your fairy lights strung above your bed. Even the soft murmur of a TV playing low in the background was enough to make the night feel less lonely. Here, in Middle-earth, there was only darkness and silence. And though Rivendell’s tranquility was breathtaking during the day, at night it became overwhelming.

You tossed and turned on the plush elven bedding, the softest sheets you’d ever felt, but it didn’t matter. Sleep refused to come. The room was too quiet, too shadowy, too… unfamiliar. You tried closing your eyes, pulling the blanket tighter around you, but the ache of homesickness gnawed at you. You didn’t belong here. The softest knock pulled you from your spiraling thoughts. It was so gentle you thought you might have imagined it. Sitting up, you called out, “Come in.” The door creaked open to reveal Glorfindel. His golden hair shimmered faintly in the moonlight, and the warm concern in his blue eyes was enough to make your chest ache. He stepped into the room with his characteristic grace, carrying a small lantern in one hand and a bundle of books in the other.

“I thought you might need some company,” he said, his voice low but warm. His eyes swept over you, taking in your rumpled blankets and tired expression. “I sensed your unease.” You managed a weak smile, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, I guess I’m not really used to this.” You gestured vaguely at the room, at the stillness. “It’s… so different here. Back home, I’d have fairy lights, maybe the TV on… something to make it feel less… lonely. It’s stupid, I know.” Glorfindel’s brows furrowed slightly, his confusion evident. He tilted his head slightly, looking as though he had not quite understood. “Fairy lights?” His voice was tinged with curiosity. “What are these?”

You blinked, suddenly realizing that the things you took for granted in your world didn’t exist in his. “Uh, they’re little lights, like tiny bulbs, that glow softly and are usually hung up to make a room feel cozy. Like… decorative lights. You know, for mood lighting?” He looked puzzled, a frown tugging at his lips. “Lights… for mood?” You sighed, trying to explain. “Yeah, kind of. They’re not like regular lights, they’re just to make things look nice. To make it feel… comforting.” Glorfindel’s expression softened slightly, but he still seemed unsure. “I see,” he said slowly, nodding. Then, his gaze shifted, as though he had remembered something. “And this… television? What is that?”

You blinked in surprise. “Oh, right, of course, you wouldn’t know. Um, it’s a screen, like a big box, where people can watch moving pictures and hear voices. It’s like… entertainment. To make the silence less oppressive.” The look on his face was almost childlike in its confusion. “A box… that shows moving pictures?” You chuckled softly, realizing how odd your world must sound to him. “Yeah, I know it sounds weird, but it’s a huge part of how we pass the time, you know? The TV’s always on in the background, and it helps with the quiet. Kind of like… having company.”

Glorfindel looked down at his hands, processing the information. “I think I understand, though it is a strange concept. Moving pictures… in a box?” His lips quirked into a small smile. “I cannot imagine how something so… small, could hold so much.” You laughed softly. “Yeah, well, it’s a lot more complex than it sounds.” He nodded, clearly intrigued by the idea. “But what if… one does not wish to watch such things? What then?” You shrugged, offering him a small, tired smile. “That’s when I’d just leave it on low—kinda like background noise, if that makes sense. Helps me sleep when I feel weird about the dark.” Glorfindel’s gaze softened, as if he truly understood the undercurrent of your words. He moved closer, setting the lantern on the bedside table, its warm glow casting flickering shadows on the walls. “I may not have these ‘fairy lights’ or this ‘television,’ but I can try to ease your unease, mellon nín.”

Before you could say anything, he reached into his tunic and produced a small, crystalline object. It was beautifully cut, gleaming faintly in the lantern’s glow, and you tilted your head in curiosity. “What’s that?” you asked, wondering what he might be planning next. Glorfindel smiled softly, as though pleased by your curiosity. “A crystal of light,” he explained. “We use them in Rivendell for our festivals, and they help to light our way when the moon is hidden. I thought perhaps it might remind you of your… fairy lights.”

He placed the crystal beside the lantern and then murmured a soft phrase in Sindarin. The crystal began to glow faintly, casting a warm, golden light across the room. It wasn’t bright, but the flickering glow was comforting, like the tiny bulbs of your fairy lights. You stared at it, your heart feeling unexpectedly lighter. “How did you…?” He tilted his head slightly, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I may not understand your world completely, but I can try to bring some semblance of it here.” Tears pricked at your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away, embarrassed by how touched you were. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

“There is more,” Glorfindel said, lifting the bundle of books he had brought with him. “You mentioned this ‘television.’ While I cannot provide such a thing, perhaps a story will suffice? A voice, even a humble one, can fill the silence.” You stared at him, incredulous. “You’d really do that?” He chuckled softly, his deep, rich laughter filling the quiet room. “I would. I am in no hurry to sleep, and I find joy in aiding my friends.” Your heart fluttered at his words, and you gave a small, grateful nod. “Alright, then. I’m listening.”

Glorfindel settled into the chair beside your bed, opening the first book—a collection of ancient elven tales, written in both Sindarin and Westron. As he began to read, his voice filled the room—a soothing, melodic tone that wrapped around you like a blanket. The golden glow of the crystal and lantern cast faint shadows on the walls, the light dancing in time with his words. The familiar ache of homesickness began to ebb, replaced by the calm reassurance of his presence. You found yourself focusing less on the strangeness of this world and more on the warmth of Glorfindel’s voice, the subtle inflections and rhythms as he recited the tale of Beren and Lúthien. He read with such care, pausing now and then to glance at you, ensuring you were still comfortable.

The gentle glow of the crystal and the lantern bathed the room in warmth, the shadows no longer pressing in around you. With each word, the familiar ache of homesickness slowly faded away. The sound of his voice, so steady and calming, eased the quiet panic in your chest. As your eyes grew heavier, you caught him murmuring, “Rest well, mellon nín. You are not alone, not while I am here.” For the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him. The faint light, the soothing sound of his voice, and the steady presence of the golden-haired elf beside you were enough to finally ease you into sleep. And as you drifted off, you thought, maybe Middle-earth wasn’t so bad after all.

🤎𝓕𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓷

Feren x Modern Human (You)

You lay in your small room within the heart of Mirkwood, staring up at the dark wooden beams of the ceiling. The air was thick with stillness, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves from the forest outside. The forest, majestic and ancient, seemed to wrap around you, yet the silence it offered pressed heavily upon your chest. There was no hum of the city streets, no distant buzz of electronics, no gentle noise from people milling about that you could hear back home. Here, in Middle-earth, the quiet was all-encompassing, and you found it suffocating.

Back in your world, you would have had the soft glow of fairy lights lining the windows, twinkling like stars in the night. Their gentle shimmer always made you feel safe. Along with the lights, there would be the calming background noise of a TV on low, a comforting hum as you drifted into sleep. But here, there were no lights to chase away the shadows or the comforting sounds of a familiar world. The dark felt oppressive, as though it had weight, and it seemed to stretch endlessly around you.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you turned over in bed, trying to get comfortable. The night seemed impossibly long, the darkness creeping into the corners of the room. Even the soft rustling of the leaves outside, which might have been soothing to someone else, only made you feel more alone. You could almost hear the sound of your own heartbeat as you fidgeted beneath the blanket, tossing and turning in frustration. You couldn’t help but feel out of place, like a small speck lost in the vastness of the world.

As if on cue, a gentle knock sounded on your door, and you froze. The door creaked open slowly, and a tall figure stepped inside, blocking the faint light from the hallway. It was Feren, his silhouette tall and graceful against the dim backdrop of the night. “Y/n?” His voice was soft and steady, though there was a note of concern woven in. “I heard you moving about. Is everything well?” You turned toward him, suddenly feeling embarrassed. The last thing you wanted was for him to worry about you. But here, in this strange place, where everything was so different from what you knew, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I… I can’t sleep,” you admitted, sitting up slightly in the bed. “I’m not used to the dark like this. Back home, I always had… lights. You know, like fairy lights? And a bit of noise, like the TV. It’s just too quiet here. I don’t know how to explain it, but I miss that. I miss the little bit of comfort.” Feren raised an elegant brow, his expression puzzled. “Fairy lights?” His voice was tinged with confusion, as if the concept were something from another world entirely. “And… television?”

You chuckled softly, realizing how strange it must sound to him. “Fairy lights are just little glowing lights, like tiny stars you can hang up. They don’t do anything except shine softly to make things feel cozy, to keep the darkness from swallowing everything. And television is… well, it’s like a box that shows moving pictures and makes sounds. It plays stories, music, or sometimes shows that make you feel like you’re not alone.” Feren’s brows furrowed slightly, and you could tell he was trying to piece together what you were saying. “Moving pictures? That sounds wondrous,” he mused, his voice rich with curiosity, “but… strange. And the lights, I think I understand. They chase away the dark, yes?”

You nodded. “Exactly. The lights make the room feel a little more alive. It’s hard to sleep when everything feels so… empty.” Feren looked at you thoughtfully, his gaze softening. “I see. Here, the darkness is not so much a thing to fear as it is a companion to our silence. The night moves with us, like a gentle embrace. The trees sing in the wind, and the creatures of the forest wander beneath the stars. But… I understand now. It is not the same for you. The quiet seems unnatural.” You looked at him, feeling a mixture of relief and gratitude. His willingness to try to understand your discomfort meant more than you could express. “I don’t know how you do it. I just… don’t know how to sleep like this. Without something familiar, without something to hold onto.”

Feren’s eyes softened even further, and he stepped closer to you, his movements graceful and quiet, like the night itself. “Then perhaps I can offer you something from my world,” he said gently. “I do not know of these fairy lights or this ‘television,’ but I know the comfort of the moonlit woods. If you walk with me, in the quiet of the garden, perhaps you will find a peace there. The night may be silent, but it is not without its beauty.”

You hesitated for only a moment, before nodding. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice fragile but willing. “That sounds nice. Just… no sudden noises, okay?” Feren smiled softly, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. “I will be as quiet as the stars themselves.” He led you out into the night, through the grand, winding halls of the Elven palace, until you reached the garden. The air was cool and crisp, but not uncomfortably so. The ground beneath your feet was soft and damp from the evening dew, the earth rich with the scent of pine and earth. The sky was vast, the moon hanging like a pearl in the heavens, casting long shadows on the ground below. The stars were scattered across the sky, bright and steady.

As the two of you walked, Feren’s presence was a soothing balm against the unsettling silence of the forest. There was no need for the hum of artificial lights, no background noise to fill the space. The soft rustle of leaves in the trees, the occasional croon of distant night birds, the subtle movements of creatures hidden in the underbrush—these were the sounds that filled the air, but they were gentle, almost like whispers. Feren’s steps were as quiet as the breeze, and his calm presence beside you was enough to settle the restlessness gnawing at your mind. Occasionally, his gaze would drift toward you, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, his expression warm and understanding.

As you walked beneath the canopy of trees, you felt a surprising sense of comfort, the darkness no longer oppressive but rather a peaceful, enveloping thing. You didn’t need fairy lights or television in this moment; the stillness of the world around you, the quiet company of Feren, were enough. And as you finally returned to your room, you felt a new sense of peace. Maybe, just maybe, the silence wasn’t so bad after all. Feren lingered by the door, looking at you with a soft smile. “Sleep well, Y/n,” he said quietly, his voice like a promise.

You nodded, feeling your body begin to relax. “Thank you, Feren.” And finally, with the comfort of his presence and the quiet beauty of Middle-earth surrounding you, sleep came—sweet, uninterrupted sleep. I’ve tried to enhance the sensory details while preserving the core emotional beats of the original! I hope this version is just what you were hoping for. Would you like me to adjust anything?

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captain-mj · 1 year ago

Text

Wrote this at a laundromat so I hope you guys like it

Ghost had just moved to Scotland to get away from everything. His family's murders stayed a constant thought in his mind, but more than that, he didn't want anyone still loyal to Roba to find him. After wiping them off the map, he decided to do something he never thought possible.

Chose himself.

So he made his way to Scotland where no one would know Simon Riley and he bought a house and lived next to a small town so he could go over and get whatever supplies he needed before coming to hide again.

That's where he met him.

A local man who apparently was involved in the church and was in general a great person.. Most people referred to him as Soap, which Ghost thought was a very strange name, but he had also heard MacTavish which seemed more realistic.

The man saw Ghost, probably decided he was emotionally vulnerable, and decided to skulk around him. He asked, begged, pleading for Ghost to join his congregation.

Ghost turned him down each time, though he did love to see a pretty man beg. Once, he lifted lifted his mask, let him see the Glasgow smile cut into his cheeks. He hoped that Soap would assume gang member or miscreant and leave him alone, but it seemed to spur him on.

Soap MacTavish, savior of big buff men. Patron saint of being annoying.

Ghost started... watching him. The way he moved. His smile, just a little too wide with teeth a little too sharp.

He was... handsome. Seemingly kind. But Ghost was like a stray. He didn't trust affection and he wanted to keep it that way. No matter how honeyed Soap made his words or how kind the scraps he offered. Something about the man was unsettling.

Soap simply knocked on his door one day at dusk. Ghost only answered when he had his mask on. He had some kind of food in containers. "Hey! Several people I know made me these and gifted them to me, but I don't think I'll be able to eat all they gave me. Thought you might appreciate them. I know I'd be homesick, in such a new area."

Ghost stared at him, hands itching. "How did you know where I lived?"

"i knew the people who lived here before. Laid them to rest myself. Saw their last rites and all that. No other empty house around for miles."

"Other people know...?"

"Doubt it. Most don't think of you too much." Soap sniffed, looking around. "I assumed that's what you'd prefer."

"It is. Thanks."

Soap smiled. "I'll keep it between us." He kept standing there. Just waiting.

"I'm not going to invite you inside."

Immediately, those soft lips turned into a pouty frown. "At least take the desserts. I really do have no use for them."

Ghost didn't want to disappoint him for some reason, so he awkwardly took the food. "Okay. Address between us right?"

"Of course. With God as my witness." Soap grinned and left.

If Ghost would've thought about it, he'd made him promise to never come back as well. But he did not do that.

He went into his kitchen and opened the container.

Cranachan. Ghost had heard of it. The King of Scottish Desserts.

He grabbed a spoon and brought a bite to his mouth slowly. There was a thick cream with oats and raspberries. When he put a bite in his mouth, he could taste the honey and whiskey.

It was so good.

Ghost dug in on his couch. He was pretty sure this was supposed to be something he'd eat off for a few days, but he devoured all of it in one sitting. There was more of the raspberries sauce and Ghost found himself licking it from his fingers. A warmth settled in his chest from it.

Maybe Soap wasn't terrible.

Ghost got ready to start his routine of checking all of the windows and doors, but his couch suddenly felt so comfy. He felt his eyes start to close, the warmth spreading more.

For the first time since being a kid, Ghost slept all the way through the night with no nightmares.

Ghost cleaned up from the night before, feeling comfy. He noticed one of his windows was unlocked and chided himself for being so forgetful. After two sweeps of the house, he was sure no one was in his house and nothing was missing.

The dishes sat on the counter, suddenly suspicious. The idea of there being something in it was preposterous.

Ghost cleaned the dishes. "He's a fucking poster boy for good. You're being paranoid."

As time went on, he noticed things. Always on his porch or right outside. Tapping or animal noises or sometimes visions of someone right outside. The wonderful night of sleep was the last time he slept for a while.

Soap showed up again. A cross necklace Ghost couldn't remember seeing was around his neck. He looked apologetic as he had more of the delicious treat. "Sorry. It's raspberry season so everyone is making it and... well... I don't really have much of a sweet tooth."

Ghost looked at him coldly. "And you're bringing it to me? No orphans to give it to? Children to target?"

It was the first time Soap had looked upset at him. Ghost was a military man. He dealt with that constantly back in his troop. But for some reason, Soap's unhappiness got under his skin.

"No, Ghost. I just... thought you might be feeling lonely. Ya probably think I'm naive. Small town guy, always trying to talk to you..." He looked embarrassed. "Never met someone from Manchester. And before you ask, I figured it out by your accent."

Ghost looked at him for a few minutes before looking away to pretend he wasn't affected by him. "I don't."

"Gotcha... I can just... take the food."

"No. I'll still take that." Ghost quickly grabbed the home made food, noticing Soap's flash of a smile. He bit his lip as he cradled the food. "Look, I'm not a good guy. Definitely not someone you need around you."

Soap looked at him sadly. "Even outside of my faith, I still think all people deserve someone. I just... want to try to make you feel less lonely."

Ghost sighed. "Alright. Come in."

Soap got so excited. He carefully walked inside and glanced around, moving his weight back and forth between each foot.

Ghost sat on the chair he had. "Haven't exactly bought much furniture. But you're allowed to get comfy."

Soap grabbed the couch and smiled brightly. There was something about him. He looked at him and his eyes... had a shimmer to it.

Ghost paused, holding the bowl.

"Are you going to put it away? Or eat it right now?" Soap asked conversationally. He batted his eyelashes.

Ghost gnawed on the inside of his cheek. "Gonna put it away for now."

"I see. Have you been sleeping well? This place seems... so isolated. I don't think I could ever quite get a good sleep."

Ghost couldn't think of a good answer besides the truth. "Sleep has never came easy to me."

Soap frowned, batting his eyelashes at him. "I'm sorry. I hope it gets easier for you." He seemed so genuine. So sweet.

Ghost shrugged. "Thank you..."

They started to slip into rather easy banter, but he found his eyes getting heavier.

Soap got up and picked his way over. For a moment, Ghost was afraid. He almost lashed out, afraid. But he didn't touch him. He leaned in, eyes glowing against the backdrop of everything around them. "Sleep well, Ghost."

Ghost fell asleep on his chair. Soap locked the door on the way out but he didn't lock the windows.

Ghost found Tommy's photo album and went through them. He looked at the various photos of him and his family and he found himself missing them again. They looked so cute. So perfect. He left them on his coffee table, messy and covering every inch.

Joseph looked up at him, bright smiling face.

Simon was holding him. Blond curls that he spent too much time keeping bleached. No scarring.

He felt like he was going crazy as things... moved around his house. Things moved right out of the corner of his eyes. So he started preparing.

Guns were tucked into every hiding place he could. Knives even more so. He started to work out again for the first time in a few weeks. Luckily he hadn't lost too much of his physique.

Ghost eventually found himself eating the cranachan. He slept well. It was unsettling.

Right before dawn, Soap arrived at his house. The clouds were churning together but there was still some sunlight streaming through. "I brought coffee. Are you a coffee person?"

Ghost wasn't usually, but rather than deal with Soap's sad look again, he took the drink. He sipped it and found himself pleasantly surprised at how good it was.

Soap smiled. "Have any plans?"

"Gonna make breakfast... wanna join?" Why did he say that??

Soap smiled and quickly walked in. "I'd love to."

Ghost started to cook. He had been trying to learn more cooking lately so hopefully it wasn't too bad.

Soap looked thankful when he set it down and started to eat. They did so in basically silence. The cross necklace kept catching the light so he kept staring at it. When he lifted his gaze to look at his eyes, they made direct eye contact.

Soap's eyes. They were so dark. Like a shark.

Ghost felt for the gun under his side table. He tried to keep up conversation.

"Don't grab that gun, Simon."

Ghost paused what he was doing, watching the cross necklace sway where it sat. "What?"

Soap sighed. "Don't be like that. The gun your hand is on. Don't grab it." His nails clicked against the table. Too long. Too alarming. "Be a good boy, Simon."

Ghost stared at him, debating what could be done here.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"What are you?"

"Not a danger to you." Soap answers a little pedantically. "I promise." His canines. They were long and curved.

Ghost glanced at the coffee. "You were drugging me."

Soap hummed. "No. More of a... side effect of my presence. You feeling anything right now?"

Ghost could feel something tugging at the edge of his consciousness but nothing too severe. "What do you want?"

Soap swallowed. "I'm hungry. Starving."

"You saw me up here. Being vulnerable. And decided you could fuc-"

"No. Not quite. I... I know you could keep a secret."

Ghost blinked, realizing the situation. "You're... asking."

Soap looked pained. "I am. A... deal. I keep everyone away. Tell them whatever I need so they leave you alone and I get to..." His eyes trailed to Ghost's throat.

"How bad is the feeding?"

"Not bad! I take about as much blood as a blood donation. Easy peasy. I'll even bring you food for recovery just please..."

Ghost undid the top button of his shirt and Soap looked ready to wiggle out of his seat. The poor man was salivating.

Why was he doing this?

it was stupid.

Idiotic.

Self-sacrificing.

The mask hit the table.

"Go for it."

Soap leapt over the table and sat in his lap. Teeth sank into his throat as he held him, holding him tight. They pressed together and Ghost could feel the unsettling chill that came from Soap.

He grabbed the table, almost white knuckling it.

Pain radiated from where he was being stabbed into and he felt himself go lightheaded. Soap's ass was pressed firmly to his lap though and it felt...

pleasurable.

Slowly he sank into it, feeling Soap take his fill.

His pretty boy thanked him, lips bright red from blood. "Thank you. Thank you. You're perfect. My angel from heaven."

Their lips touched and Ghost groaned softly.

Soap panted in his ear. "I'll be good. Promise. Take care of you." His claws sank into Ghost who was wondering how bad the situation he landed himself was.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

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cigarettesaftersae · 4 months ago

Text

Homesick 01

Sae Itoshi - 01

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Series: sae x f!reader | childhoodlovers!au,

Stuck in a small town near the coast with a previous crush on a boy who returns after years

Fire seems ethereal, whereas candles on a cake appear simple. So, what would happen if the candles on the cake were lit? Is it child's play? A special celebration? It was just a birthday cake, some simple singing, and phew. Gone. Do you feel eighteen yet? What was so wonderful about birthdays, anyway? Aside from receiving free gifts, and dying slowly. The next day will be frigid, as you would expect.

The seasons vary, from icy winters to blossoming springtime, flaming summers, and fading autumn. You would expect something to change over the course of these 18 years. Waking up the day following your birthday seemed different, possibly more hectic, but it has always been this way. So perhaps not changing. Difficult? yeah..

The only time you felt something that was different, somewhat changing, or …a feeling? Was when you were a kid, but there is always something to be joyful about. But this was like a stop in motion. His teal eyes, earth tone red hair, and mostly those long under eyelashes. Wish I could cut them up and use them. But mostly, it was his cold, blunt, and nonchalant personality. Or maybe it was all of it. To be youthful, talented, and beautiful was the dream of all, and he was right over there. You’d see him occasionally in the town when shopping with your mama, playing in the park, or on the beach. Usually if he wasn’t with his brother that you’d assume, he’d be playing with a soccer ball. And you’re on the swings alone as you watch him from afar. Just alone, juggling the ball so smoothly with his foot. For such a young age, he was good and you weren’t even an expert on soccer. For a second, he looks up at you, making faint eye contact. As soon as you realize his notice, you go back to kicking the ground floor to give you a small push on the swings, eyeing the ground like it was your favorite color. Slowly, you look back up to see him playing with the soccer ball once more. The wind blew through the strands of his red hair so calmly, his youthful skin so smoothly. You were almost envies of everything he possessed.

“So pretty…” you mumble quietly under your breath

You break free from your thoughts, believing it was all a ploy from the air getting worse. Walking over to the venting machine to get a drink for your thirsty mouth, you notice the red-haired boy trying to get a drink as well. Only, he appeared to be having problems with the machine. His expression was angry, pretty, but angry. In a quick moment, you notice he picks up his leg, motioning it to kick it, hard.

“That won’t work.” you speak up softly but quick before he makes any damage contact with the machine. He carefully puts his feet down as you walk up to press the buttons labeled for your desire drink, placing in the coins then both watching it successfully come out.

“This thing is… dumb” His voice sound so smooth, like the ocean sea. You could listen to him all day. “Did you even punch in the right label?” You ask

“Of course I did, the machine is broken.”

“Didn’t seem like it”

A moment of awkward cold silence fills the atmosphere as you two simply look at each other.

“It's broken”

“This drink is really refreshing; did you know it came from this venting machine?”

“It's broken.” He repeats once more but sterner and firmer, yet you couldn’t help but admire the tune of his voice flowing in the air, and his dreamy icy eyes, and fluffy hair messy bangs. You slightly giggle, “Which one did you want?”

“The taro drink..”

With ease, you punch in the labels for the taro drink, waiting for its arrival. You hand it to his delicate hands,

“Thanks..” he said nonchalantly

From there you parted ways, no name, not a look back or twice. It was the only time you talked. He remained a small town crush until one day he suddenly disappeared in the beginning midst of highschool. You didn’t even go to the same school. Just gone, all you had was the memories from afar. Not even a name. What was his name again?

You remain present in the early morning at 5 am.. Each wind blowing conveys these peaceful leaf designs, building up like a blizzard yet remaining utterly unique in its mist. The grass breathes its green hue, and the birds sing their tunes awake as you stroll to your local town café. The old lady who works there has always liked your presence and regards you with courtesy. After getting your drink and a little breakfast, you sat in a quiet corner to enjoy your period of solitary. It has always been like this: serene, alone, and dull. It's a rerun; you'd do everything to get out of here, to change your life, to experience anything enjoyable. Now you're not emotionless, cold, and nonchalant. You still possess human emotions, however you grown bored of these emotions. Its like a habit you’ve grown too good for. You felt everything so much but could feel nothing so much.

You snap out of your thoughts when you heard the bell on the door ring. In reflex, you turn your head to see who. You were to late to see his face but saw the back of his head. Red hair..

The lady who ran this place, Maria, smiled like no other when she saw him. Maybe a friend you guessed. It was none of your business, but you noticed Maria’s wrinkle hands take the male’s hands in her to hold warmly. You couldn't make out the conversation but it seemed so joyful, so full of love. It was beautiful to see. But it was none of your business, so with a last look you return to eating and finishing your drink. By then the male was gone and you didn’t even notice with you being in your own world.

In this world stood Sae Itoshi back in the air of the hometown. He had greeted with his parents after a long way from Spain. He remained on difficult terms with his brother however. Nonetheless, he took this day to relax. Revisiting old friendly faces, he remembered one very kind old lady who owned a small cafe. Sae always took fascination in her bakery and caring smile. Always treated him like his own. He walks in the small cafe early morning, not many people around but noticed a girl alone with her coffee and drink but her face the other way. An old man by the window reading a book with steaming coffee accompanying him. With each step gained him closer to be in the eye sight of Maria. Instantly the ends of her lips widen into a smile for the sight of Sae.

“Oh who is this beautiful young man?” Maria chuckles in joy

“Its felt like years since I’ve last seen you sweet boy, how are you? Was your flight back okay? Would you like something to get?” She was so welcoming, in between her talk she had gently picked up Sae’s hand to hold and cherish

“Everything was perfectly fine Maria. How were you?” All the sayings of the cold, blunt, nonchalant Sae Itoshi seemed so fake in this moment. His tone usually unfriendly turned to somewhat soft and kind to Maria.

“Oh you know me, living day by day, these old hands just make coffee and bakery treats for ya”

“We always appreciate your hardwork. Did you need any help in the back?”

“Aw did you really come back to just help me with the shop? So sweet really but youre a young man. Go out, and have fun”

“Ah well I only find that in soccer”

“No no not soccer… have you ever fell inlove?”

“I have no desire for… love”

“Not even a crush? I'm just playjng with you sweetheart. Did you come here just to visit?”

Her words sinked in him, love? He never really thought of it, moreover he thought it was useless and soccer only mattered. And it will only and always matter.

“Yes, and..I would like a coffee, not too much sugar. It wont be healthy for my diet.”

“Coming right up”

“Not even a crush?” It repeated in his head, now that he was back in his town he remembered the color of her hair, not her eyes. What were the color of her eyes again? She was beautiful though, oh so beautiful. Her skin, lashes, lips, to all over.

Young Sae

Sae was young, talented, and handsome, and alone. He played with the soccer ball alone, staring at it as it seemed for an eternity. Nothing mattered but soccer. He was to be the number one, and that was all that matter.

Well, maybe a girl..who just went on the swings. She was always staring, Sae knew she was staring. With a soft motion he looks up at her to see her stare to be completely directed somewhere else the moment they make eye contact.

“Hmm..”

—

“Stupid..machine.” Sae lifts his feet up to kick it only to be stopped by the words, “that won’t work”

Sae looks up to see who it is. It was the girl who was on the swings. Who keeps staring. He watched as she easily and successfully obtained her drink. This machine was a stupid little pile of butt. How come it didn’t work for me? I'm the one whose been active…

“Did you even punch in the right labels”

Why wouldn’t I?

“Of course I did, the machine is broken.”

“Didn’t seem like it”

The nerve of her attitude. All she does is stalk me with her predatory eyes

A moment of awkward cold silence fills the atmosphere as you two simply look at each other.

“It's broken” Sae explains

“This drink is really refreshing; did you know it came from this venting machine?”

Even more annoying

“It's broken.” He repeats once more but sterner and firmer, annoying. But he took this second to admire her eyes, the color of her hair, each mole, birthmark, and facial hair on her..beautiful he wanted to mumble out

You slightly giggle, “Which one did you want?”

“The taro drink..”

With ease, you punch in the labels for the taro drink, waiting for its arrival. You hand it to his delicate hands,

“Thanks..” he said nonchalantly. He turned on his heel to walk away. With a somewhat far distance, he looks back to see you. The girl in the town who keeps staring.

—

It was the only interaction between you and Sae, besides the staring from afar. You both acknowledged each other for being in the same town, seeing each other when going out with mama, the park, or the beach. But you both shy away, never being brave enough to talk. Sae regrets not asking your name. His only regret outside of soccer. What was her name again?

—

note:

what if i told you this was my first fanfic

#sae itoshi #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #bluelock #blue lock #sae itoshi fluff #cigarettesaftersae

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ghostly--photography · 3 months ago

Text

Homesick for the Home We Made| A. Fantilli

Summary: Adam and Y/N have been inseparable since their college days at UMich, bound by a love that grew through the late nights, laughter, and unwavering support. Now, as Adam begins his professional hockey career with the Columbus Blue Jackets, their relationship faces new trials. From navigating the pressures of the NHL, the relentless spotlight, and the strain of long-distance travel, to coping with injuries and doubts, they fight to stay connected amidst the demands of his rising fame.

Word Count: 8986

University of Michigan, 2022

The nights they spent in the library became their little ritual, a comforting constant amid their busy college lives. Adam’s schedule was intense, between morning practices, back-to-back classes, and late-night studying, yet he’d always make time to meet her there, settling into their usual corner by the large window that overlooked campus. Tonight, like every night, he’d saved her a seat, draping his hoodie over the chair beside him so she’d know he was waiting.

When she arrived, a warm feeling washed over her, seeing him so intently focused, tapping a pen against his notebook. His brow was furrowed in concentration, jaw set in that familiar way, yet the moment he saw her, his face softened, a grin spreading across his face.

“Hey, you,” he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders as she sat down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Missed you.”

She laughed, leaning into his side. “We were together this morning. You really missed me already?”

“More than you know,” he murmured, squeezing her shoulder. There was always something about him—a quiet warmth and sweetness that made her feel like she was the only thing in his world, even when he was balancing a million different pressures. He set his pen down, focusing his attention entirely on her, and she couldn’t help but smile.

They worked side by side for a while, falling into the easy rhythm they had developed over the months, sharing notes and sneaking little glances at each other. Occasionally, Adam would steal a quick kiss, his smile making her heart skip. It was these little moments that made her realize just how deeply she had fallen for him—the quiet understanding, the silent support, the shared smiles.

As they walked back to his dorm under the glow of the campus streetlights, a comfortable silence fell between them. The autumn air was crisp, and she felt Adam’s fingers tighten around hers, as if grounding her in that moment.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, stopping them both. She turned to face him, surprised by the sudden intensity in his gaze. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

She felt her heartbeat quicken as he looked at her, the seriousness in his eyes sending a shiver down her spine. “What is it?”

He took a deep breath, glancing down before meeting her gaze again. “Y/N, I know we’re both young, and we don’t have everything figured out, but…I know I want this. I know I want you, in my life, no matter what.”

His words were a revelation, each one grounding her in a reality she’d hoped for but hadn’t dared to expect. She looked up at him, a soft smile breaking across her face as she felt a surge of affection. “Adam, I feel the same way,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “You mean everything to me.”

He pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her in a hug that felt like a promise. She could feel his heartbeat against her, steady and reassuring. After a moment, he pulled back, looking down at her with a tenderness that made her heart ache.

“Let’s go inside,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mixture of excitement and vulnerability.

As soon as they closed the door, Adam’s hands found her waist, pulling her into a kiss that was soft at first but grew with an intensity neither of them could ignore. His hands traveled up her sides, sending a thrill through her, and she felt herself melt into him, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his breath warm against her neck as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers.

She nodded, her voice steady. “I’ve never been more sure.”

In that quiet room, they explored each other, savoring every touch, every kiss, as if they were making a silent promise to be there, to love each other no matter what life would throw at them. They moved together in a way that felt effortless, their bodies communicating a desire and trust that words could never capture. And when they finally lay side by side, wrapped in each other’s arms, she knew this was a memory she would carry with her always.

The room was filled with the quiet hum of their breathing as they drifted into sleep, the campus lights casting a warm glow through the window. Adam held her close, his fingers tracing light circles along her back as she rested her head on his chest.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered, his voice filled with a vulnerable hope.

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Summer 2023, NHL Draft Day

The months flew by, and suddenly, it was draft season. Adam’s nerves were palpable, but he tried to hide them behind his usual smile, his arms wrapped around her as they waited for his name to be called. The night was electric with excitement, but beneath it, she could feel his tension, the anticipation of everything they had worked toward coming down to this single moment.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, squeezing his hand. She could see the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, and it made her heart ache.

He nodded, flashing her a smile. “Yeah, just…a lot of pressure,” he admitted, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a calming rhythm. “But having you here…that makes all the difference.”

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him gently, trying to convey every ounce of love and belief she had in him. “You’ve got this. No matter where you go, you’re going to do incredible things.”

The moment his name was called, the room erupted into applause. She watched him, pride swelling in her chest as he hugged his family and friends, giving her a last, lingering look before making his way to the stage. It was a look that said everything he couldn’t put into words—a promise, a silent thank you, a reminder that she was part of this journey with him.

As the night wound down and the crowd thinned, Adam pulled her aside, his expression turning serious. They found a quiet corner, away from the noise, the celebration, and he took her hands, looking down at them as if collecting his thoughts.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen next,” he began, his voice soft, laced with a nervous vulnerability. “But I don’t want to do this without you.”

Her breath hitched as she realized the weight of his words, the unspoken question hanging between them.

“Adam,” she said, her voice shaking slightly, “are you saying…?”

He nodded, meeting her gaze. “Come with me. Move with me to Columbus. I don’t want us to be apart—I want us to figure this out together.”

Her heart skipped a beat, a mixture of excitement and fear welling up inside her. It was a big decision, a huge leap into an uncertain future, but as she looked into his eyes, she knew there was only one answer.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice filled with a quiet certainty. “I’m with you. Wherever you go, I’m right there.”

They held each other tightly, both of them feeling the enormity of what lay ahead. But in that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, they felt an unshakeable confidence—a shared certainty that, together, they could face whatever challenges would come their way.

Later that night, in the quiet of the hotel room, they shared a moment that felt sacred. Their kisses were slower, deeper, filled with the promise of everything they had committed to. Adam’s hands were tender as they explored her, memorizing every inch of her skin, his touch full of reverence.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and a hint of nervousness.

She nodded, her eyes meeting his. “Absolutely. I love you, Adam.”

He smiled, his hand cupping her cheek. “I love you too, Y/N. More than you’ll ever know.”

As they lay together afterward, tangled in each other’s arms, she felt a profound sense of peace. It was as if the entire world had shrunk down to this single room, to the quiet of their breathing, to the warmth of his body beside her. They had made a promise tonight—a commitment to face the future together, to stay by each other’s side, no matter what. And in that moment, she knew there was nothing they couldn’t face as long as they had each other.

Columbus, Ohio – Fall 2023

Moving to Columbus was a whirlwind for both of them. The new city buzzed with excitement for Adam’s arrival, and the Blue Jackets fan base was thrilled to welcome their young prospect. The city had a new energy, one that felt vibrant and alive, as Adam settled into his role on the team.

Adam and Y/N found a modest, cozy apartment downtown, close enough to the rink for his practices but far enough that they could enjoy some quiet time together. The place was small, but it was theirs, and they spent the first few weeks transforming the bare walls and empty spaces into something that felt like home.

Boxes were everywhere as they unpacked, laughing and bickering playfully over where things should go. Adam insisted on keeping his signed rookie stick leaning in the corner of the living room, while she countered with a set of cozy throw pillows she’d found on a shopping trip. Every little detail was a negotiation, filled with laughter and eye rolls that melted into shared smiles.

“You know,” she teased one night, standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips, “if you’d let me put those curtains up instead of keeping that blanket over the window, this place might actually start looking like a real apartment.”

Adam grinned, tossing a pillow onto the couch before walking over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You saying my decorating skills aren’t good enough?” he asked, nuzzling her neck.

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “I’m saying you’re better at scoring goals than picking out curtains.”

He pulled her closer, his voice dropping. “And which one of those is most important to you?”

Her cheeks warmed as she looked up at him, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Guess it depends on the context,” she murmured, her voice softening as their gazes locked.

The warmth in his eyes turned into something deeper, and he leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, filled with a mixture of tenderness and longing. His hands slipped to her waist, pulling her closer, and she felt herself melt into him, their bodies pressed together as if they were one.

They spent the rest of the night tangled together, exploring every inch of their new space in a way that made it feel truly theirs. It was as if each touch, each kiss, each whispered word was imprinting memories into the walls, filling the empty spaces with moments only they would know.

The honeymoon period of settling into the new apartment soon gave way to the challenges of Adam’s grueling schedule. Training camps, team practices, media obligations—it was a new rhythm, and it pulled him away from her more often than either of them had anticipated. Early mornings turned into long days at the rink, and by the time Adam got home, he was exhausted, barely able to muster up the energy for anything other than collapsing onto the couch.

At first, she tried to ignore the pang of loneliness that crept in during the quiet hours she spent alone in their apartment, filling her days with work, exploring the city, and calling friends from Michigan. But as the weeks went by, she couldn’t shake the feeling of missing him, even when he was right there beside her.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, Adam came home, dropping his bag by the door with a tired sigh. She could see the weariness etched into his face, his usual spark dulled by exhaustion. He offered her a faint smile as he kicked off his shoes, heading straight for the couch.

She sat down beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Long day?”

He nodded, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “You have no idea. I mean, I knew the NHL was going to be intense, but this… it’s next level.” His voice was low, almost defeated, and it tugged at her heart.

“Hey,” she said softly, rubbing his shoulder. “You don’t have to be perfect all the time. You’re allowed to be tired, Adam. It’s a lot to handle.”

He turned to look at her, his eyes softening as he took her hand, pulling her into his lap. “Thanks, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, her fingers brushing through his hair as he leaned his head against her shoulder. Slowly, she felt his breathing even out, and she realized he’d fallen asleep, his arms still wrapped around her. She smiled to herself, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

The following morning, she woke up to find him already gone, his side of the bed cold, a note on the nightstand that read: Couldn’t wake you. Wanted you to sleep in. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Miss you already.

It was the kind of note that left her heart aching in the best way, but also reminded her of the distance that had crept between them, even in their shared space.

Despite the challenges, they found ways to make it work, weaving small routines into the chaos. She’d pack his lunch, slipping little notes into his bag—inside jokes, or silly sketches of the two of them—that he’d find in between drills. And on nights when he got home early enough, they’d cook together, laughing as they danced around the kitchen, turning the simplest tasks into cherished rituals.

One night, they were attempting to make pasta—a meal that turned into a bit of a disaster when Adam managed to overcook the noodles. He looked at the pot with a mixture of defeat and confusion.

“Who knew pasta could be so difficult?” he groaned, looking over at her with a sheepish grin.

She laughed, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “It’s okay. You might be terrible at cooking, but you’re still my favorite person.”

He turned around, pulling her into a hug. “Yeah? Even when I mess up pasta?”

“Especially when you mess up pasta,” she replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

They ended up ordering takeout, curling up on the couch as they ate, laughing over the mess they’d left in the kitchen. It was moments like these, filled with warmth and laughter, that reminded them both of why they were doing this—of the love that had brought them together and continued to hold them close, even through the difficult days.

One Friday evening, after a particularly intense game, Adam returned home, his energy still buzzing from the win. She greeted him at the door with a warm smile, feeling her own excitement swell as he swept her up into his arms, spinning her around.

“We won, babe!” he said, his grin infectious. “I can’t believe it—it was insane! I thought we were done for in the third period, but we pulled it off.”

She laughed, holding onto him as he set her down, his arms still wrapped around her. “I’m so proud of you, Adam. You were amazing out there.”

His eyes softened, and he pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. “Couldn’t have done it without knowing you’re here, waiting for me,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

In that moment, she felt her heart swell with love, the struggles and loneliness of the past few weeks fading away as they held each other. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was soft at first, filled with a mixture of gratitude and longing. But soon, the kiss deepened, fueled by the passion that had been simmering beneath the surface.

They moved together to the bedroom, his hands exploring her as if he were memorizing every inch of her. Their kisses were slow and deliberate, each touch a reminder of the love they shared, the commitment they’d made to each other. They undressed slowly, savoring the intimacy, the connection that felt so much deeper after the time they’d spent apart.

Afterward, they lay tangled in each other’s arms, their breaths mingling as they whispered to each other in the quiet darkness. He told her about the game, sharing the small details he usually kept to himself—the nerves, the pressure, the way he’d thought of her during every break. And she listened, feeling closer to him than ever before, her fingers tracing light patterns along his chest.

As the night wore on, they drifted into a peaceful sleep, feeling a renewed sense of connection. For the first time in weeks, they both felt truly at home.

The next morning, she woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of soft music coming from the kitchen. She padded out of the bedroom, smiling when she found him standing by the stove, humming along to the song as he cooked.

“Look who’s trying to make up for last night’s pasta disaster,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

He laughed, turning around to kiss her. “I figured breakfast was the least I could do,” he said, grinning as he handed her a cup of coffee.

They spent the morning together, sharing a quiet breakfast, laughing and talking about their plans for the weekend. It was a simple, unremarkable moment, but to both of them, it felt like a little slice of happiness—a reminder of why they were doing this, and how much they meant to each other.

As they sat there, her hand in his, she felt a sense of contentment

Columbus, Ohio – Winter 2023

As the season progressed, Adam’s name began to pop up more frequently in the media. Headlines praised his impressive rookie performance, and clips of his plays trended on social media almost every week. Fans posted nonstop about his potential, and interviews with him were filled with questions about his goals and his future with the Blue Jackets. At first, it was exhilarating for both of them. Watching him on the ice, seeing how the city celebrated his success, made her heart swell with pride.

But as his fame grew, so did the pressures and the expectations. More demands on his time left him exhausted and often distracted. Nights out were frequently interrupted by fans wanting photos, or journalists eager for a quote, which Adam always handled with a smile, never wanting to disappoint anyone. She admired his dedication, but she began to feel as if they were sharing less and less of their world together.

One evening, after a particularly demanding week, they went out for dinner, hoping to carve out some time just for the two of them. But even in the cozy, dimly lit restaurant they’d chosen, whispers followed them, and a few fans approached their table.

“Hey, Adam, big fans—would you mind signing something for us?” one of them asked, an excited look on her face. Adam glanced at Y/N apologetically, but she gave him a small nod, urging him to go ahead.

He returned to their table after a few minutes, reaching for her hand, his face slightly flushed. “Sorry about that,” he murmured, his thumb tracing over her knuckles. “Guess this comes with the territory.”

She managed a small smile, but there was a twinge of something she couldn’t ignore—something that felt like loneliness. “It’s okay,” she said, keeping her tone light. “I’m just still getting used to sharing you with everyone.”

He looked at her, his expression softening as he realized the weight of her words. “You’ll never have to share me, Y/N. Not really. You know that, right?”

She forced a nod, but a part of her couldn’t ignore the growing fear that, eventually, the world might take too much of him. She squeezed his hand, trying to push the thought away. “I know,” she whispered, hoping she sounded more certain than she felt.

As the season wore on, the distance between them felt less like an occasional inconvenience and more like a permanent shadow that loomed over their relationship. Adam was constantly traveling for away games, and even when he was home, his mind was often preoccupied with training or strategies. The rare moments they did spend together were often late at night, with him collapsing into bed beside her, exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open as he murmured a sleepy “Goodnight.”

One evening, she finally couldn’t keep it bottled up any longer. They were sitting on the couch, him scrolling through his phone, catching up on game footage, when she spoke.

“Adam,” she began, her voice quiet but steady. He looked up, noticing the serious expression on her face.

“Yeah?” He set his phone down, his attention fully on her.

She took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I just…I miss us. I feel like we’re always together, but I’m not really with you. Not the way we used to be.”

A flicker of guilt crossed his face, and he reached for her hand. “Y/N…I know it’s been tough. I feel it too. I don’t want you to feel like I’m drifting away. I’m just trying to keep up with everything, you know? The team, the media, the expectations…it’s all so much.”

Her heart softened, and she placed her hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing over his skin. “I know, and I’m so proud of you. But I need you too. Not the player, not the celebrity—just you.”

He pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re my whole world, Y/N. I don’t want to lose us in all of this.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close. “Then let’s make time for each other. Even if it’s just little moments. I don’t want us to get lost in the noise.”

They sat like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s warmth, a silent agreement passing between them. They promised each other that, no matter what, they would find ways to stay connected, to hold onto the love that had brought them together in the first place.

A few weeks later, Adam surprised her with a weekend getaway. He booked a small cabin an hour outside the city, nestled in the woods, where they could disconnect from the world and just be together.

As they drove up to the cabin, she felt a thrill of excitement, the tension of the past few months melting away. The cabin was cozy, with a fireplace crackling in the corner, and a view of the snow-covered trees outside. They spent the first day simply enjoying each other’s company, cooking together, sharing stories, and laughing like they hadn’t in months.

That night, as they sat by the fire, wrapped in blankets, he pulled her close, his fingers tracing light patterns along her arm. “I missed this,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of tenderness. “I missed just being with you, away from everything else.”

She looked up at him, her heart swelling with love. “Me too,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him. The kiss was slow, unhurried, as if they had all the time in the world. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her onto his lap as he deepened the kiss, their breaths mingling in the quiet warmth of the room.

They moved together with a renewed passion, savoring each touch, each whisper. It felt like a rediscovery of everything they loved about each other, a reminder of the connection that went beyond the demands of his career. They undressed slowly, their bodies pressed together as they explored each other, the intimacy of the moment grounding them in a way that nothing else could.

Afterward, they lay tangled in each other’s arms, the glow of the fire casting a warm light across the room. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling a peace she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I love you,” he whispered, his fingers brushing through her hair. “More than anything. Thank you for being here, for sticking with me through all of this.”

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I love you too, Adam. Always.”

They drifted into a peaceful sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, knowing that, no matter how tough things got, they would always find their way back to each other.

The weekend away renewed their strength, but as they returned to Columbus, the pressures of Adam’s career quickly crept back in. Yet, this time, they both held onto the memory of the cabin, the quiet promises they’d made to each other. They made an effort to carve out little moments—a morning coffee shared in comfortable silence, a late-night drive to clear their heads, a quiet dinner in their favorite restaurant where they could be just two people in love.

One evening, as they sat on the couch after another long day, she rested her head on his shoulder, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn’t felt in months.

“Do you ever wonder if it’ll get easier?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He looked down at her, a gentle smile on his face. “Sometimes. But even if it doesn’t, I know we’ll get through it. We’re in this together, right?”

She smiled, her fingers lacing with his. “Always.”

In that moment, she knew that, no matter how intense the pressures of his career became, no matter how many obstacles they faced, they would find a way to hold onto each other. They were each other’s constant, the quiet strength that carried them through the noise and chaos. And in the end, that was all they needed.

Later that night, as they lay in bed, Adam pulled her close, his hands tracing light circles along her back. “Thank you for being my rock,” he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. “For always understanding, even when I’m not around as much as I want to be.”

She looked up at him, her heart swelling with love. “You’re worth it, Adam. Every second.”

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, tender kiss, filled with all the gratitude and love he couldn’t put into words. They moved together, their bodies fitting perfectly, each touch a reminder of the promises they had made to each other. In the quiet darkness, they shared a connection that went beyond words, a love that was steadfast and unbreakable.

As they lay together afterward, wrapped in each other’s arms, she felt a renewed sense of peace, a quiet certainty that, no matter where life took them, they would always find their way back to each other.

Michigan and Beyond – Summer 2024

The off-season finally arrived, and with it came a long-awaited break from the demands and pressures of the NHL. For the first time in months, Adam didn’t have to rush off to practices, interviews, or endless travel. He was just…Adam, the guy she’d fallen in love with back in college, and for a few precious months, they were able to live without a schedule dictating every hour of their day.

It was late June when they decided to visit Michigan, eager to revisit the place where their journey began. The drive back was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated by laughter and the occasional off-key singing as they played their favorite songs from their college days. The familiar landscape rolled by, the roads bringing back memories of late-night drives, coffee runs, and spontaneous adventures.

When they arrived, the University of Michigan campus was quieter, the summer break leaving the buildings mostly empty. They parked the car and walked hand-in-hand through the familiar paths, the air filled with nostalgia.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Adam asked, glancing down at her with a soft smile. “I couldn’t even focus on practice that day. My teammates gave me so much grief for being distracted.”

She laughed, nudging him playfully. “I remember you nearly walked into a door because you were staring at me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Hey, I couldn’t help it. You looked…amazing. Still do.”

They wandered around the campus, revisiting their favorite spots—the library where they’d spent countless nights studying together, the little café where they had their first date, the rink where she’d cheered him on at every game. Each place held a memory, and they spent hours reminiscing, sharing stories and laughing at all the little things that had brought them together.

That evening, they drove out to a secluded lake where they had often gone during their college years to escape the world for a while. The sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the water, and the quiet of the place wrapped around them like a comforting blanket.

Adam spread out a blanket on the shore, and they lay side by side, watching the sky transform from soft pinks and oranges to deep purples and blues. He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers with hers, and she looked over at him, her heart swelling with love.

“You know,” he began, his voice soft and thoughtful, “coming back here with you… It reminds me of how lucky I am to have you in my life. I don’t say it enough, but I don’t know where I’d be without you, Y/N.”

She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, her heart fluttering at his words. “Adam, I feel the same way. Being here with you, away from everything else, it’s like…this is how it’s supposed to be. Just us.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss, their bodies pressed close as the cool evening breeze rustled around them. There was something grounding about being in that familiar place, surrounded by nature, with nothing but each other. They moved together in the fading light, every touch filled with tenderness, every kiss a promise of the love they’d built and the future they would share.

They spent the night lying on the blanket, watching the stars, talking about their dreams, their fears, and their plans for the future. It was a rare, cherished moment, the kind that only came when time seemed to stand still, and they could simply be together, with no demands or expectations.

The next day, they set out on a road trip across Michigan, stopping at small towns, scenic overlooks, and quirky little roadside attractions. The freedom of the open road was exhilarating, and they filled the trip with laughter, silly selfies, and spontaneous detours.

At one point, they stopped at a little antique shop in a small town, where she found a vintage record player she’d always dreamed of having. Adam insisted on buying it for her, despite her protests.

“Come on, it’s perfect for our apartment,” he said with a grin, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “And we’ll fill it with all our favorite records.”

She rolled her eyes, but her heart warmed at the gesture. “You’re spoiling me, you know that?”

He shrugged, a playful smile on his lips. “Well, you deserve to be spoiled.”

They ended up spending half the day exploring the shop, picking out records and laughing over the quirky finds. It was a small, simple moment, but it felt like a piece of happiness, one of those memories that would stay with them long after the road trip was over.

Their last night in Michigan, they decided to revisit their favorite college bar—a little dive just off campus where they had spent countless nights with friends, celebrating wins and commiserating over losses. They ordered their usual drinks, laughing as they slipped back into the carefree atmosphere of their college days.

The bar was filled with students, and a few of them recognized Adam, offering congratulations on his success with the Blue Jackets. He smiled, thanking them graciously, but he kept his attention on her, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist as if grounding himself in the present.

They danced to the old songs they’d loved in college, laughing as they spun each other around, letting loose in a way they hadn’t been able to in months. There was something freeing about being there, away from the eyes of the media, away from the pressures of his career. For that night, they were just Adam and Y/N, two people who had fallen in love in a little college town, and it felt like nothing else mattered.

As they left the bar in the early hours of the morning, he pulled her close, his voice soft in her ear. “Thank you for this,” he murmured, his eyes filled with gratitude. “For everything. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “We’re both lucky, Adam.”

They walked back to their car, hand in hand, feeling a renewed sense of connection, a reminder of everything that had brought them together.

When they finally returned to Columbus, they spent the next morning lounging around their apartment, savoring the last moments of their time off. They made breakfast together, laughing as they danced around the kitchen, stealing kisses between flipping pancakes and sipping coffee.

After breakfast, they curled up on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket as they listened to the records they’d bought on their trip. The soft melodies filled the room, and they sat in comfortable silence, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm draped around her.

“Do you ever think about the future?” she asked quietly, breaking the silence.

He looked down at her, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, all the time. Especially when I think about you.”

She smiled, feeling a flutter of excitement at his words. “What do you see?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening. “I see us. Maybe a house someday, a place we can really make our own. And…maybe a family, if that’s what you want.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her cheeks warming. “I’d like that,” she whispered, feeling a mixture of excitement and hope.

He pulled her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Then that’s what we’ll have.”

They spent the rest of the morning wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about their dreams and the life they wanted to build together. It was a quiet, precious moment, a promise of the future they were creating, step by step.

As the off-season came to an end, they spent their last days together savoring every moment. They took long walks around the city, went on picnics, and spent late nights watching movies, laughing and holding each other close. Each moment was a reminder of the love they shared, the foundation they had built, and the dreams they had for the future.

On their final night before the season began again, Adam surprised her with a romantic dinner on their balcony, stringing up fairy lights and setting the table with candles and flowers. They spent the evening under the stars, sharing stories, laughter, and quiet, lingering kisses.

As the night drew to a close, he took her hand, his eyes filled with love and a quiet intensity. “Whatever happens this season, wherever this career takes me, I want you to know that you’re my priority. You’re the one thing that keeps me grounded, that reminds me of who I am. I’ll never lose sight of that, or of you.”

She felt her heart swell, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I know, Adam. And I’m here for you, no matter where this takes us. I love you.”

They shared a kiss under the stars, their hearts full of hope and promise. As they held each other close, they both knew that, no matter how demanding life became, they would always find their way back to each other. Their love was their anchor, their constant, and it was a promise that neither of them would ever break.

Columbus, Ohio – Mid-Season 2024

The season was in full swing, and Adam had been pushing himself harder than ever, determined to keep up with the demands of his growing career. Game after game, he poured everything he had into the ice, always eager to improve, to prove himself. But one night, after a particularly intense game, everything changed in an instant.

She was watching from the stands, cheering as usual, when she saw him go down. It was a rough play, and in a split second, Adam crashed to the ice, clutching his leg. Her heart stopped, a cold fear gripping her as she watched him wince in pain, his teammates gathering around him. The medical staff rushed onto the ice, helping him up, but the look on his face told her everything she needed to know—it wasn’t just a bruise or a scrape. Something was wrong.

After what felt like an eternity, they helped him off the ice, and she could see the strain in his face as he tried to put weight on his leg. Her stomach twisted as she rushed down to meet him, her mind racing with worry.

When she reached the locker room, she found him sitting on the bench, an ice pack pressed to his knee, his face pale. He looked up when he saw her, offering a weak smile, but she could see the frustration and fear in his eyes.

“Adam,” she whispered, rushing to his side. “Are you okay?”

He shrugged, letting out a bitter laugh. “Not really. Doc says it’s a sprain, maybe worse. They’re running more tests tomorrow.”

She sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Adam. You’re going to get through this.”

He nodded, but she could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists as he struggled to hold back his frustration. “I just… I can’t believe this happened. I’ve been so careful, doing everything right, and now this? Right in the middle of the season?”

She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “Hey, don’t think like that. This is just a setback, okay? You’re going to heal, and you’ll come back stronger. You’ve overcome so much already.”

He looked at her, his eyes softening as he took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

They sat there for a while, her hand in his, both of them absorbing the reality of the situation. She could feel his vulnerability, the weight of his disappointment and fear, and it broke her heart to see him like this. But she was determined to be there for him, to support him through every step of his recovery.

The following days were a blur of doctors’ appointments, physical therapy sessions, and long, quiet evenings in their apartment. Adam was restless, the injury weighing heavily on him, and she could see how much it affected him. He tried to keep his spirits up, but there were moments when the frustration and doubt would creep in, clouding his usually optimistic outlook.

One evening, she found him sitting on the couch, staring at the floor, his shoulders slumped. She walked over, wrapping her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked gently, her voice soft.

He let out a heavy sigh, leaning back into her embrace. “I just feel…helpless. Everyone’s out there, giving it their all, and here I am, stuck on the sidelines, watching them. I don’t know how to just sit and wait.”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, her arms tightening around him. “Adam, you’re not alone in this. You have the whole team behind you, and you have me. We’ll get through this, one day at a time.”

He turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

She shook her head, cupping his face in her hands. “You do. You deserve all the love and support in the world. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulled her into a kiss, his hands gentle yet full of need, as if grounding himself in the comfort of her presence. She could feel the weight of his emotions, the vulnerability he rarely showed, and she held him close, offering all the reassurance she could.

That night, as they lay in bed, she could feel his tension, the worry that gnawed at him even as he tried to rest. She reached over, tracing light patterns along his arm, her fingers gentle and soothing.

“Adam,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the darkness.

He turned to face her, his expression softening as he looked at her. “Yeah?”

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “I know this is hard, and I know it’s frustrating. But I need you to know that this doesn’t change anything—not who you are, not what you mean to me. You’re still the same person, still the man I fell in love with.”

He reached for her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. “I needed to hear that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Sometimes I feel like…like I’m letting everyone down.”

She shook her head, her gaze fierce. “You’re not letting anyone down. You’re human, Adam. You’re allowed to have setbacks, to feel frustrated. But you’re also strong, and you’re going to get through this. And I’ll be here every step of the way.”

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as he buried his face in her hair. They lay together in the quiet darkness, their breaths mingling as he let go of the fears he had been holding onto, surrendering to the comfort of her presence.

As the days turned into weeks, they settled into a new routine, one built around his recovery. She accompanied him to his physical therapy sessions, offering words of encouragement and holding his hand when the exercises became challenging. She could see the determination in his eyes, the way he pushed himself even when it was difficult, and it filled her with pride.

One afternoon, as they returned from a therapy session, he looked over at her, a small smile on his face. “You know, I couldn’t do this without you,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. “You make it all a little easier.”

She smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I’ll always be here, Adam. We’re in this together.”

They spent the evening cuddled up on the couch, watching movies and sharing quiet moments of laughter. The injury, though difficult, had brought them closer in ways they hadn’t expected, revealing a strength in their relationship that went beyond the highs and lows of his career.

One night, after weeks of hard work and slow progress, Adam managed to walk unaided, taking a few steady steps across the room. She watched, her heart swelling with pride as he grinned at her, his eyes bright with excitement.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice filled with joy. “I’m getting there.”

She rushed over, wrapping her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve come so far.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss, their hands exploring each other as if rediscovering the love they had nurtured through the challenges of his recovery. That night, they moved together with a renewed sense of passion, each touch filled with gratitude, each kiss a reminder of the strength of their love. They lay together afterward, wrapped in each other’s arms, a quiet peace settling over them.

As they drifted into sleep, she felt a renewed sense of hope, a quiet certainty that, no matter what challenges they faced, they would always find their way back to each other.

When Adam was finally cleared to return to the ice, he was filled with a mixture of excitement and nerves. She watched from the stands, her heart pounding as he stepped onto the rink, his movements tentative at first but growing more confident with each stride.

As he skated, he looked up at her, offering a small, reassuring smile. She waved, her heart swelling with pride as she saw him back in his element, a part of the team once again.

After practice, he rushed up to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “I did it,” he whispered, his voice filled with relief and joy. “I’m back.”

She hugged him tightly, her voice filled with pride. “I never doubted you, Adam. Not for a second.”

They shared a kiss, the world around them fading as they held each other, their love a constant in the whirlwind of his career. They had faced the challenge together, and they had come out stronger, their bond deeper than ever before.

That evening, as they returned home, they sat on the balcony, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance. Adam took her hand, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along her skin.

“Thank you for being there for me,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m the lucky one, Adam.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, their hearts full of love and hope for the future. As they watched the stars, they knew that, no matter what lay ahead, they would face it together, their love a constant light in the journey they had chosen to walk side by side.

Columbus, Ohio – Spring 2025

The season had been a wild success, both for the team and for Adam personally. With each game, he’d made his mark, proving himself not only as a strong player but as a dependable teammate and leader. But tonight was something extra special: Adam had reached a major career milestone—his 100th NHL goal.

Y/N watched from the stands, her heart racing as she saw the puck soar into the net, the entire arena erupting in cheers. She jumped up, clapping and cheering along with the crowd, a wave of pride swelling inside her. She caught his eye from across the rink as he skated back toward the bench, and he pointed up at her, a private little gesture that made her heart skip.

When the game ended, the crowd was still buzzing with excitement, chanting his name as he made his way off the ice. Y/N hurried down to the locker room, her cheeks flushed, anticipation bubbling up inside her as she waited to congratulate him.

The locker room was a whirlwind of laughter and celebration, his teammates congratulating him and slapping him on the back. When he finally spotted her waiting by the door, he broke into a grin, jogging over to pull her into his arms.

“Adam, I’m so proud of you!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “One hundred goals—you did it!”

He laughed, his eyes shining with excitement as he lifted her off the ground in a tight hug. “We did it,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

They shared a quick, private kiss, his hands lingering at her waist as if he didn’t want to let go. She could feel the pride radiating from him, a joy she knew he’d worked so hard for, and it made her heart swell with love.

“Alright, lovebirds!” one of his teammates called out, laughing as he tossed a towel in their direction. “Save some of that energy for the party!”

Adam rolled his eyes, chuckling as he turned back to her. “Ready to celebrate?”

She nodded, a smile spreading across her face. “With you? Always.”

Later that night, the team threw a celebration in honor of Adam’s milestone. The restaurant was filled with laughter and music, everyone sharing stories and toasting to his success. She stayed close by his side, watching him light up as his friends and teammates congratulated him. There was a certain ease to him tonight, a glow that only came from the fulfillment of a dream realized.

At one point, his coach raised a glass, calling for everyone’s attention. “Here’s to Adam,” he began, his voice filled with pride. “A hundred goals is no small feat, but what makes this guy truly remarkable is his heart and dedication. He’s a role model on and off the ice, and we’re proud to call him one of our own. To Adam!”

The crowd erupted in cheers, and Adam looked over at her, his face a mix of pride and gratitude. She raised her glass to him, giving him a warm smile as she mouthed, “To you.”

After a while, they slipped outside, finding a quiet spot away from the crowd. The night was cool, a gentle breeze rustling the trees as they stood beneath the stars. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

“I still can’t believe it,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe. “A hundred goals. Feels like a dream.”

She leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s no dream. You worked hard for this, Adam. You deserve every bit of it.”

He looked down at her, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity. “I wouldn’t be here without you, Y/N. You’ve been my rock through everything—the highs, the lows, the injuries… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, her heart swelling with love. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” she whispered, smiling through the emotion.

They shared a long, tender kiss under the stars, a private celebration of everything they had accomplished together. In that moment, she knew that, no matter where life took them, they would always have each other.

After the party, they returned home, both of them still riding the high of the evening. As soon as they stepped inside, he pulled her into his arms, his hands resting at her waist as he looked down at her.

“Dance with me,” he murmured, his voice soft.

She laughed, her cheeks flushing. “Adam, there’s no music.”

He shrugged, a playful grin on his face. “We don’t need music.”

He led her in a slow dance around the living room, their movements unhurried and gentle. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as they swayed together. It was a quiet, intimate moment, a perfect end to a night they would remember forever.

As they danced, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his voice filled with sincerity. “Thank you for believing in me, for standing by me through everything.”

She looked up at him, her heart overflowing with love. “Always, Adam. I’m with you every step of the way.”

They continued to dance, the world around them fading away, until they finally settled onto the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms. They spent the night talking about their dreams, sharing their hopes for the future, the love between them stronger than ever.

The following morning, they sat together on the balcony, sharing a quiet breakfast as the sun rose over the city. She looked over at him, feeling a sense of contentment she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“So, what’s next for us?” she asked softly, reaching for his hand.

He looked thoughtful, a small smile playing on his lips. “Well, I know I don’t want to do any of it without you. Whatever the future holds, you’re my number one.”

She smiled, feeling her heart skip a beat. “Do you ever think about…you know, settling down? Maybe a place of our own? A family?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes shining with hope. “All the time. I want all of that with you, Y/N. A home, a family—everything.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss, both of them feeling the weight of their shared dreams. The future felt open, a promise of everything they had worked for, and she knew that, whatever came next, they would face it together.

That evening, as the sun set, they decided to celebrate privately, sharing a bottle of wine on their balcony as the city lights began to twinkle. Adam poured them each a glass, raising his in a toast.

“To us,” he said, his eyes filled with love. “To everything we’ve built, everything we’ve overcome, and everything we’re going to create together.”

She smiled, clinking her glass with his. “To us.”

They sipped their wine, wrapped in each other’s arms, feeling a sense of peace and fulfillment that only came from being truly loved. In that quiet moment, they both knew that, no matter where life took them, they had found something lasting and real—a love that would carry them through every victory, every setback, and every dream they held for the future.

As they looked out over the city, she rested her head on his shoulder, her heart full of love and gratitude. They were each other’s home, each other’s hope, and she knew that, no matter what, they would always find their way back to each other.

And as the stars began to appear in the night sky, they shared one last kiss, a quiet promise of everything they would share in the years to come.

#adam fantilli #adam fanitlli x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #my writing #columbus blue jackets #hockey #nhl

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