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kedsandtubesocks · 9 months ago

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what the water gave us

Merman!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: the fairytales were half true, the merman you found is indeed handsome but oh so grouchy

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, merman/human relationship, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older) instances of blood & injury, brief violence, Joel still being a terrifying force even as a merman, very light discussion of grief & loss of a loved one (Joel with Sarah & reader with their father) grumpy but soft!Joel, sharing food as a love language, use of nickname, protective!Joel, slightly possessive!Joel, f!oral receiving - along with spicy moments, mentions of mating & merfolk courting rituals

word count: 7.6k

a/n: here it is - the nice final surprise for our mermay mini series, this is for all of us who would kiss fuck the handsome merman lol! Thank you to @pr0ximamidnight for letting me scream about this & to @the-wild-wolves-around-you for always being the best support - and to you, if you’re reading this, thank you so much ♡

The sun hangs low against the sky, painting the world in a soft orange creamsicle shade. Sliding your shoes off, you sink into the soft sand and walk the shoreline.

You love your aunt and uncle dearly. But having such a large get together at their house to meet the neighbors and their friends just got too much. It’s why you politely excused yourself and ended up here.

The crash of the waves, the peaceful quiet of the thankfully vacant beach, it all settles you while you walk aimlessly getting lost in your thoughts.

Until a sharp deep growl pierces the air.

The noise sounds close, electrifies your skin, and makes you stop. That’s when you notice trickles of blood in the water.

Petrified your eyes follow the trails.

Then you come across a sight you can’t believe.

By the long stretch of rocks leading out from the shore into the sea, a man sits half up on the rocks.

Older, distinguished in the wrinkles around his face and beautiful grays in his curled hair, his skin however seems drained of color. There’s also a huge gash against his side as if he was impaled.

Even though he’s partially out of the water, you notice, the skin at his hips don’t lead to legs. Your eyes go wide.

Another snarl of a growl comes and you realize it’s this man. His face fiercely stares you down in menacing terror.

“You’re hurt!” You blurt out.

“Get the fuck outta here!” He howls, even has an accent of someone from this area.

“You’re bleeding out too fast!” You don’t even know medical conditions that well to know this isn’t good.

On your walk here you noticed a few beach towels left vacant on the shore.

You immediately turn around and bolt.

The man screams out a curse, yelling at you to stop, but you don’t. Thankfully you don’t have to search too far down the beach to spot one of the forgotten towels. Quickly grabbing it you then rush back.

The strange man is still on the rocks, but it’s obvious he tried sliding down them in an escape. However it opened his wound up more.

“Wait!” Now you cry out. “I know this isn’t much but this can stop the bleeding for now!”

You offer weakly that you could maybe try to get medical attention, but even weary his eyes go wide, and he snaps out a fast sharp no.

“Then you need to wrap this around the wound or press into it.” You offer the towel.

“Y’don’t think I know how to handle this, ya dumb human?” He snarls.

Human. So he isn’t human like you suspected.

“Your wound is getting worse.” You urge now, promising you won’t get others but have supplies that can help.

“Do what ya fuckin’ want.” He snarls.

Gingerly, you place the towel down on a rock then scramble out of the water and head back to your family’s beach home. Thankfully everyone has moved upstairs, allowing you to sneak in, grab a first aid kit, then leave.

You just hope the man hasn’t left or gotten worse.

The sky grows dimmer. The sun almost vanishes beyond the horizon. And thankfully, the man is still on the rocks.

Yet his eyes flutter in and out of consciousness.

Keeping the first aid kit as dry as you can above the waves, you rush into the water towards him.

He’s barely awake, might not even fully notice you’re beside him now. But quickly you unpack things fast on the nearby rocks and tend to the wound as best as you can. The man hisses a half growl at the padding you place to stop the bleeding. Then you use an embracing amount of large bandages over the wound.

The bleeding doesn’t seep through the wraps and it’s enough for now. You’re afraid of leaving him here, but you’re more worried about moving him. So taking the towel you grabbed, you delicately drape it over his body, keeping his face open.

He seems human enough from his upper body. This mystery man is also handsome, scarily so. But the sky is getting dark, and you need to get home. Gathering your things you return to the beach house.

“Hey, where’d ya go?! And what’s with the first aid kit?” Your mom says a bit surprised.

You explain with a half lie that you went walking on the beach and helped a guy who got cut.

“Well look at you! What a hero.” She grins warm and her words feel soft.

That night you barely get any sleep and think of the man on the rocks. Earlier, when you were panicking trying to tend to his wound, you didn’t have time to fully look into the ocean at his lower body. But you caught a glimpse.

You saw a partial marine like body, a sea creature like tail even among the cloud ocean water.

A merman, you had possibly helped a merman.

Now you just hope he makes it through the night.

Scrambling awake the next morning, you make an excuse of wanting to enjoy the beach bright and early, and head to the rocks.

Of course he’s gone.

You almost knew he wouldn’t be here. A piece of you did hope, faintly hoped, he would be. Even the towel is gone.

Out in the ocean a loud splash, like someone slapping against the water, arrives.

There floating in the waves, only seen from the chest up, is the mystery man. He’s okay. He’s here. He’s alive.

“You’re alright.” You exhale relieved.

This man glares at you fiercely. It highlights his weathered wrinkles but also intensifies his handsome features. There’s an intimidating and hardened nature radiating off this gorgeous creature.

“Why did ya save me?” He flat out asks, and you’re stunned.

That’s what he came here to ask you about?

Your face even scrunches up slightly confused, but you tell him the truth.

He was hurt. You had to try and do something.

The answer does soften his features. If anything his eyebrows furrow harder.

“Y’fuckin’ tell anyone about me?”

For possibly being a mythical being, this man does speak very human. You shake your head no, promising you didn’t and won’t ever tell anyone.

He scoffs, distrusting.

With sharp narrowed eyes, he gives you one final look before slipping back into the water.

You sit on the shoreline for what feels like hours, but he doesn’t return.

A bit dejected and quiet, you head home.

Later, trying to get your mind off everything, you decide to enjoy the time you’re here and head into the water.

The wind provides a nice breeze, and the sea swirls around you. Slowly you trek deeper into the ocean letting the water rise. Eventually you comfortably float and glance back towards the shoreline. Your mom lounges in her lawn chair with the recent book she just bought. The sky, beautifully soft this morning, now seems dimmer with all the clouds moving in.

A wave crashes over you from behind.

Powerful and large it drags you under. You were so focused on watching the beach you didn’t even see it coming.

Now you’re under the water, caught beneath the sea.

The saltwater stings your eyes as you try swimming against the current. But you’re a bit disoriented and even trying to just float back to the surface seems harder.

Suddenly warm solid hands are on your hips pulling you up. You’re guided up to the surface. Sweet air fills you and you cough through the stinging in your lungs. You’re kept above the water, held up.

You whip around trying to see who helped you, but there’s no one around.

Someone screams your name frantically. Your mom and your aunt on the edge of the water shout for you.

Weary from the waves you slowly swim, practically float, back to shore before your family scrambles to help you out. They rapidly ask if you’re okay, covering you with towels.

“We saw you go under and didn’t come up for so long.” Your mom explains still very worried.

“Did you guys see that shark?!” From behind by the beach house, your uncle calls out as he comes running.

“Wait, shark?” You blurt out.

Your uncle rapidly explains how he saw the fin poking out of the water around you.

“Could have been a dolphin.” Your aunt offers.

“No, definitely looked like a shark. Thank goodness you got outta the water.” Your uncle playfully ruffles the towel over your head.

A few bystanders sitting nearby ask how you’re doing and also comment how they swore they saw the ominous shark fin swimming around you.

A shark. It doesn’t make sense. You felt strong very human hands on you. You knew a guiding force saved you.

But then the thick cotton clouds above pop and the rain comes. After heading inside and deciding to rest for the day, your gaze stays watching the harsh waves. The storm and ocean move in tandem. You wonder about the man you met, if he’s safe in the water.

Maybe it’s all the talk of the supposed shark in the water, but before you end up fading into a nap, you swear you see a fin swimming in the current.

- 𖤓 -

“You gonna be okay with us heading to the museum?”

For the millionth time you reassure your mom you’ll be fine staying back and getting more rest. The rain from yesterday’s storm stayed, a quiet downpour thankfully not as strong. After everyone heads out, you see this as an opportunity to head out to the beach.

With the rain, the shoreline is vacant. So with your umbrella you head to the beach. The murky water under the dim sky seems more mysterious and your eyes scan the waves, maybe waiting for something to appear.

“Glutton for punishment or somethin’?” The familiar twanged voice.

Immediately you snap your gaze to the side. There in the water, closer to the edge of the shore, is your mystery man.

You blurt out how worried you were about the storm and about him. His eyebrows furrow.

“Ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle.” He answers muttering.

“And you,” he asks, nudging his handsome chin towards you. “Y’doin’ alright?”

Your heart jumps in your chest. He came to check up on you.

Nodding firmly, you thank him gratefully. You knew it had to be him who saved you in the water.

The man simply nods.

You swallow hard then blurt out if he’s seen a shark.

His face hardens confused. It’s actually adorable with how curiously his dark eyes shine.

“A shark?” He mumbles.

“Yeah, thought I saw a fin in the water.” You don’t want to tell him your uncle did as well.

“Wasn’t a shark.” He answers gruffly, almost a scoff.

You want to press more, ask if it was a dolphin instead when your stomach instead growls loud. Your eyes go wide embarrassed.

One of his eyebrows raises.

“Sorry, need to grab some lunch soon.” You sigh embarrassed.

“Then head inside, lil’ minnow. Go get somethin’ to eat.” He says firm.

Before you can reply he’s sinking back in the water. But as he swims away that’s when you catch it faintly -

A sleek fin towering out of the water.

The shark creature is him.

Also…you realized he just called you a little minnow and for some reason, you find it oddly affectionate.

The next morning a mess of crabs clutter the beach. Even the neighbors besides your family’s place head to the shore to admire.

“It’s like the sea wanted us to have a crab bake.” Your mom laughs.

“They normally don’t wash up on the beach in this many numbers, it’s odd.” One of the neighbors explains to your uncle.

While everyone eagerly moves to get the crabs, your eyes stay on the water hoping to spot a fin among the waves.

At night, once everyone is asleep, you quietly slip out and head to the beach. The patio lights from the beach homes cast a soft illumination. The crashing waves among the abyss beyond are strangely calming even with the darkness of sea and sky stretching out wide.

Patiently you sit at the edge of the water, not even knowing what you’re truly doing here.

“Persistent one, ain’t ya?”

His voice emerges from the darkness and your soul almost jumps out of your body. This time the mysterious man flutters up from the waves and is closer than before.

“Why were there so many crabs on the beach?” You ask quickly and curious.

“Don’t know. Crabs are fuckin’ weird little shits.” He replies bluntly with a hard grimace.

A part of you thinks he does know why.

“How’s your wound?” You ask.

Gingerly he lifts himself closer to the shoreline and then goes to rest halfway upon the beach allowing you a sight of his torso.

The area where the wound is healing up nicely and you even grin relieved.

But him being half out of the water onto the shore also allows you a better glimpse at his lower body.

Tail. He has a tail.

It’s sleek, a deep stormy gunmetal gray, that in this dim lighting almost seems like a lovely rich blue. Faintly you can even see the dorsal find at his lower back.

It’s beautiful.

He’s beautiful. Lovely sun and age spots pepper his skin. His bare chest is broad and seems strong. This man from the sea is burly, solid, and aged, a force of the water that speaks of his power that’s weathered the tides

You don’t even realize you’ve said something, much less called him beautiful, until your mystery man responds.

“Y’think I’m beautiful?” He sounds terribly confused.

“Weirdest god damn human I ever met, lil’ minnow.” He adds muttering.

“I have a name.” You huff back, gently teasing.

“Yeah?”

Your lips twitch at his reply, and you give him your name. This beautiful merman stays quiet.

“And you? What’s your name?” You ask cautiously but hopeful.

No reply comes. You’re worried you’ve pressed your luck.

“Joel.”

Until he answers, and you discover this merman’s name is so lovely.

“Don’t normally see ya around here.” Joel comments.

You perk up asking if he lives nearby.

“More or less.” A cryptic answer.

You explain that you’re here for the summer. After finishing up for the semester you and your mom decided to take a break out here.

“Younger than I fuckin’ though.” Joel says harsh under his breath, and annoyance bristles in you.

“Probably not as young as you think.” You argue back, even explaining you’re just starting grad school so the break was needed.

Joel scoffs, not looking convinced.

“Maybe you’re just an old barnacle.” You fire back, teasing.

Surprisingly, this man from the water snorts amused. The sound is precious. You want to ask him more, learn more about him, but a tratorious yawn escapes you.

“Head to sleep, lil’ minnow.” Joel mumbles.

“Not tried.” You huff, but another yawn betrays you.

“Mhm.” Joel hums, and you think you see a twinkle of amusement in his deep eyes.

There’s so much you want to say, maybe even ask when you’ll see him again. But rising up off the sand, you hear a splash in the waves.

The spot where Joel rested is now empty. A wistful ache settles into your chest.

However the next morning though, an impressive mess of clams and oysters are on the beach. A bright bubble of a laugh almost escapes you.

When the night rolls in, you again sneak back down to the beach. This time you bring some of the leftover sushi from dinner.

You don’t wait for long before Joel swims onto the shoreline.

You greet him with a warm grin. His focus however is on the container on your lap. His handsome scrunched up face seems grumpier.

“What’s that?” He rumbles.

“It’s just fish and rice.” You explain opening the container. “Thought we could share.”

“It’s sushi.” He flat out says and your eyes go wide. He knows what sushi is and you even admit your surprise.

“Yes I know what sushi is.” He replies a bit crabbier. “Don’t live in a fuckin’ damn cave.”

“Where do you live?” You ask now.

“Somewhere.” He replies flatly not answering, so you don’t push it.

Instead you return to the meal before you.

“Since it’s fish, thought you might enjoy it.” You offer.

“You…brought me food?” His voice sounds steeled, cautious. You realize how suspicious it sounds and how hesitant he would be.

“It’s fine, I promise.” You reassure and even prove it by chomping down on one of the California rolls. Trying to ease the tension you ramble about the different types of sushi you like and those you don’t care for too much.

You realize now you must sound ridiculous. You’re about to clamp your mouth shut when very cautiously, slowly, Joel reaches over and grabs one.

It’s like feeding a stray cat and not wanting to scare it. You can’t help but turn to stare and see his reaction. He plops it in his mouth and cutely chews thoughtfully.

“Well?” You ask a bit hopeful.

Joel simply shrugs, almost bored, not even speaking on the taste or if he likes it.

But you do notice he reaches for another one.

In the quiet night, you and Joel simply sit enjoying this space together. You try to ask more about him and about his world. But the dry unamused look he gives his answer.

Joel instead is the one asking questions about where you live, what are you studying for, and one question that knocks you out surprised.

“Y’dont got a mate.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but you still almost choke on a sushi roll.

Stammering, you ask him what made him say that.

“Don’t have the mark humans wear that they’re taken.” Joel comments then moves to point to his ring finger where a wedding band would sit.

“Some couples don’t wear bands.” You argue back.

“Oh? Ya one of ‘em then?” He challenges.

Deflated, you mutter out a low no.

“Why?” Joel asks direct.

“Why what?”

“Why don’t ya have a mate?” He questions serious and his thick voice crawls over your skin.

You shrug, not knowing how to fully answer. Instead you half heartedly tell him you haven’t found anyone yet.

“Don’t sound like a good enough reason.” Joel replies.

Now you’re annoyed, even feel your face scrunch up at his casual tone.

“Why do you even care?” Your question comes out a bit sharper than expected.

Joel shrugs. “Just don’t make sense why a young thing like you is alone.”

Immediately you fire back that you’re not alone. You have friends and family that love you.

Now you stare at Joel hard and fully annoyed. His dark eyes scan your face while he stays composed, unable for you to read.

Your phone chimes with a text notification breaking the moment. You decide to call it a night. Joel is quiet when you move to leave.

The air hangs thick and tense. Internally, you try reasoning that you’re literally talking to a mythical being. This merman was bound to have a strange view of human customs.

You simply tell him good night and walk back.

Before you head inside, you turn around to the shore unable to stop yourself.

Joel very visibly is still in waves. His upper half floats among the obsidian sea with his dark eyes hyper focused on you. However once you spot him, let your eyes lock into his, the merman sinks into the water.

That night you dream of a man from the waves so handsome and real in your arms, but it feels as dangerous as a storm.

The following morning, instead of creatures fit for a seafood restaurant waiting, the most lovely shell sits on the sand.

“Oh that’s pretty.” Your mom even coos. It is.

Cherished and still in awe, you place the shell on your dresser.

Later that night you return to the beach again. This time time with a bag of chips.

Joel arrives hastily.

“The shell is lovely.” You tell him.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” He answers simply, but his gaze stays eyeing the chip bag. Your heart warms even at his grumpy reply.

Opening the bag, Joel wrinkles his nose.

“Smells salty as hell.” He sneers.

“Says someone who lives in saltwater.” You snort munching on one of the chips.

“That’s sayin’ something if I say that shit is salty.” Joel huffs.

“They’re delicious.” You clarify holding out a chip to him. Joel’s face scrunches up even more, you laugh.

“What’s with all the sudden human food?”

You shrug. “Just a nice late night snack, thought we could share that’s all. Let you maybe just try more human food.”

With a cautious hard frown, Joel leans forward to the chips in your fingers and moves to bite it. In the process though his lips slide over your fingers.

His mouth is hot, wet. You even feel the brush of his tongue against your fingertips and try not reacting.

Joel makes a face as he chews, maybe not aware of what he just did. Your heart however rages fast and you ask if he liked it.

Now Joel’s eyes flicker to yours. You notice him swallow, notice how thick and bare his neck is and how you want to kiss it already.

He shrugs. You’re learning that’s a very common Joel answer and can’t push for more.

“Your mother. She seems nice.” He suddenly says.

You’re surprised he noticed her earlier out here. She’s been enjoying reading while you stayed inside enjoying a nice nap.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great.” You admit with a soft smile.

“Just you and her?” He presses and you agree happily.

“Where’s your father?”

You didn’t know you’d be discussing this with him. But you explain gently that your dad passed away when you were younger.

“Oh.” Joel’s voice pops a bit. “I… I apologize.”

You reassure him you’re alright. You were young, a child then, and appreciate his sympathy.

“Besides my mom always told me if I ever missed him, I just had to look up.” You tell Joel.

“What?” He asks and you turn your gaze up to the sky.

The stars are faintly out but so sweetly twinkling in the dark.

“My mom said my dad sits with the stars now, watching down and always shining bright to remind me he’s always with me, even when I can't see him.”

The words still warm you to this day.

Joel stays silent.

“And you? What’s your family like?” You ask returning your eyes back to earth, back to this son of the sea.

Joel continues to stay quiet. His focus now falls to the sand where you sit. You should’ve known he wouldn’t respond to something so personal.

“Got a brother, but he doesn’t live too close. He’s gotta pod of his own now.”

He has a brother. And they call their families pod. This information warms you, feels precious and rare.

“I had a pup.” Joel admits.

He had a child.

“Lost her many years ago.” He mutters soft.

Your heart shatters deep in your chest.

“Joel, I’m so incredibly sorry.” You tell him earnestly and sympathetic.

You gently ask him what her name was.

“Sarah.” A lovely name.

You glance back up at the sky. You don’t know anything about merfolk culture, how they honor those who have passed. But you can at least honor her the way you know how.

“Sarah is definitely up there too among the stars, watching over you.” You say reassuring.

The stars seem to twinkle back.

Again, Joel stays silent. You’re worried you might have stepped too far.

“Thank you.”

But in the soft breeze of the night, you almost miss his kind soft whisper of a reply back.

You and Joel sit in a soft silence for the rest of the night.

Waking up the next morning, from the view of your bedroom window, another shell sits on the beach.

This goes on for a little over a week. You sneak down to talk with Joel, even teach him how to play tic tac toe in the sand and discover he’s a sore loser.

Then beautiful trinkets arrive on the beach the following mornings.

Some were dazzling sea glass pieces you want to find a way to make into a necklace. Once he even left you a weather and a very old waterlogged broken compass.

You cherish it all.

But then one night, Joel doesn’t show. You wait, and wait. But no appearance of your merman. And no new seashell or trinket sits on the beach the morning after.

Again you head down to the beach at night. Still no sign of Joel.

You try not to get wrapped up in worry. But soon a week passes.

Now you’re worried, fully wondering what could have happened. You don’t even know where he lives to say you can simply go check on him. You feel a bit helpless, frustrated.

At the week’s end, your aunt wants to take you and your mom to a nice dinner in town. That night enjoying the nice meal, your eyes still drift to the view of the sea. Watching the soft waves, the dreamy sea, you simply hope Joel is okay.

When you get back, you head straight to bed and wonder if you’ll see your merman again.

In the morning, you almost don’t look out the window, like you’re trying to slowly detach yourself. But you do.

On the beach sits a new shell.

You practically fly out of the house and down to the shore.

Later that night, Joel this time rests on the edge of the water - waiting for you.

He’s never looked more beautiful in the moonlight.

You exhale relieved, welcoming him back. Joel’s eyes seem endless as he stares at you nodding

“Sorry, had some things I had to sort out.” He explains, even apologizes. You don’t even want to press why or get upset that he simply vanished.

He’s here and he’s alright. That’s what matters.

“I know it might be too personal, and you can tell me no,” you begin weakly. “But where do you live around here?”

You rationally explain it’s simply to see and make sure he’s alright. You even vow to keep it a secret.

“Worried about an old ass barnacle like me, lil’ minnow?” Teasing, he’s faintly teasing.

But you do worry about him. Even tell him that. Joel doesn’t reply for a moment.

“Tomorrow, come ‘ere early. And I’ll show ya.” His voice is as steady as a river.

You barely get any sleep that night. Before the sun even reaches over the horizon, with the sky faintly showing signs of waking up, you head down to the shore.

Joel already waits for you. He’s ethereal in the morning light. The soft cotton candy sky paints him in a delicate glow.

You walk along the shore while he stays in the ocean and you follow his lead. The guide of his fin from the waves would look menacing, the sign of a terrifying shark in the water. Yet you follow it without hesitation. Thankfully the pace is easy and you enjoy the fact that you simply have him by your side in his own way.

Slowly you walk further away from the familiar beach homes and down towards a more secluded part of the coastline. The houses begin to dwindle. Those still standing houses seem older in their style, rickety and abandoned.

Compared to your family’s beach home that sits further back on the land, these homes sit right above the water.

Weathered from their location, they seem like ghosts watching you. Eventually Joel leads you to a home that’s collapsed.

Halfway in the water, halfway in the sand, it is a cluster of debris and scattered remnants of a home

You watch Joel swim into it from the sea.

So this is where he stays. You find a small alcove to duck under and then step in. Surprisingly, the beach house had collapsed into a father cozy like alcove.

The echoes of the ocean softly swirl all around. When you glance out the opening, it gives a clear sight to the sea where Joel must freely swim in and out hidden by the cover of this remnant.

He’s made a home out of these hollow bones. He emerges out of the water, and his freshly slicked back hair has always made his face seem sharper. But here in the soft atmosphere he seems even more dreamy.

You earnestly thank him for showing this to you and even admire its coziness.

“Y’like it?” His voice is gruff as you continue taking in the space. Yet you feel eyes on you the entire time.

“I do.” You admit truthfully.

That’s when you spot the towel you gave him. It’s crinkled up in a ball, still covered in some dried blood. But he kept it. That reality gets logged in your throat.

You go to sit down on the sand and slide off the bag you brought. You didn’t know how long the trip was going to take and trying to add to the lie you told your family about going to search for sand dollars, you added the bag.

Now it proved handy as you pull out the box of assorted fruits you packed.

Feels like it’s been so long since Joel and you have done this.

Handing him an orange slice, he bites down on the whole thing not even letting you finish explaining not to eat the peel. You shriek a bit panicked, but he mumbles about you worrying too much.

“Well, someone’s gotta worry for you.” You huff back.

In this seemingly short yet expansive time you’ve known him it’s like you’ve become completely bonded to this strange man.

In very common Joel fashion, he settles into silence. Playfully taking an orange slice, you put it in your mouth then smile at Joel.

He snorts a faint type of laugh and it’s everything.

This time you also notice how close he rests on the sand next to you now, closer than he’s ever been before.

“Y’know…” Joel begins soft. “Never got to thank ya for savin’ me.”

His tender low rumble almost mixes in with the crash of the tide. You think of the blood stained towel still here.

“It’s okay. And you’re welcome. Plus I think we’re even now at this point.” You gently tease.

A deep hum comes.

“Ain’t like any human I’ve ever met.” He says even lower than before.

Something indescribable claws in you, and you glance at him. Joel is undeniably gorgeous, the most beautiful being you’ve ever seen.

His usual slicked back curls are starting to dry, highlighting their light fluff, and you ache to brush back some of his strands. However his intense gaze bores unflinchingly into yours. It’s like his eyes spark a fire in your chest burning everything in its wake.

Before anything can be said, Joel suddenly snaps up sharply glaring out to the sea.

“Need to get ya home, lil minnow. Gonna storm soon.”

The sky looked so clear on your walk here. Even now it doesn’t seem like a storm approaches. But you trust Joel. The minute you reach the beach house, thunder rolls in the distance.

Later, in the shower, your mind drifts to Joel. Your thoughts have been with him so much. But now they cross into a more sticky territory.

Joel resting beside you earlier was the first time you had ever seen him fully out of the water. Your eyes snuck as many glances as you could trying to commit the sight to memory.

You knew his golden skin bled into the color of his tail. But his tail, now that you fully saw it, was magnificent. Strong, sleek and sturdy, it speaks of how much power he holds as a son of the sea. Yet you can’t stop wondering where his reproductive organs were.

You knew he had a daughter but you also don’t know if maybe he adopted her. You didn’t want to ask about merfolk procreating, but your mind swirls with thoughts of it. Thoughts of something slippery slick, simply Joel’s, slithering in between your legs clouds your imagination and your throat goes dry.

You’re so caught up in those thoughts, you don’t even head down to the ocean that night.

Instead you dream of merman and the taste of saltwater on your lips.

-𖤓-

The beach is crowded today. You should’ve known the weekend would bring in more crowds. The amount of people must have deterred Joel away from leaving a gift.

You admit you were a little heartbroken when you didn’t see anything on the beach this morning, but you understood.

Now you sit peacefully in the water and search for more shells in the sand to add to your growing collection.

Eventually a soft beach ball gently bumps onto you.

“Sorry!” The splashes come, and off to the side are a pack of three frat boy like guys.

“Kinda got away from us.” One of them says bashfully.

“It’s okay.” You reassure.

“I like your swimsuit.” The guys smiles, and you thank him.

“You wanna come hang with us? You look lonely.” One of them asks then takes a swig of his beer.

Politely you decline, but thank them for the offer.

“Aww,” another says, swimming a bit closer. “C’mon. Gotta be better than just sitting here doing nothing.”

“I’m fine.” You kindly try to stay composed, but you already don’t care for how persistent they are.

“Man just leave her, she looks like a fuckin’ prude anyway.” One of them laughs, and your gut feels uneasy.

Fucking pieces of shit.

You don't even reply, not knowing what else they can do. Skin feeling tight, you want to get out of the water now, and hope they leave soon.

They snicker and laugh with each other, talking amongst themselves. It makes your skin crawl even more. Now you really decide to leave.

Suddenly a horrified scream comes.

It’s male, pierces through the air with pure agony.

You whip your gaze around and find blood spilling into the water. One of the guys that was just speaking to you is the one screaming, holding his leg swearing something attacked him. Another one of the guys then collapses into the sea as he screams. More blood colors the waves.

“There was something in the fucking god damn water!” One of them yells.

Off to the distance someone yells ‘shark!’ and terror fills you fast. The panicked commotion arrives. You frantically scan around.

The fin barely moves above the waves, but you catch a glimpse before it dips below the water.

From the shore, your mother screams your name begging you to get out. You return to land but are determined to find Joel.

“I’m gonna take a walk, clear my head.” You tell your mom.

“There’s a shark in the water! Just stay inside for the day.” She urges.

Promising you won’t get in the water you even reassure her you’ll have your phone on hand. With an apprehensive sigh, she nods.

You practically fly down the coastline.

Even in the middle of the day, no one pays you a second glance. Thankfully further down the beach the commotion trickles down until it’s just you and the sea. Approaching the decayed and vacant homes, this time they feel like guards keeping you safe.

Immediately you slide into Joel’s alcove. You’re not sure it was him, but something inside just whispers it was.

You discover a sight.

Joel sits halfway out of the water and snaps his face up to you. His eyes are what you notice first. Even with how dark they are, his pupils are now slits, reptilian like. Then when he spots you, they expand and dilate as his face crumbles.

He mutters out your name.

You spot his hands - now instead claws with faint traces of blood staining them.

Before you is an apex predator, a true hunter of the waters. And he’s glorious.

The blood seems to confirm it was him in the water. He attacked those guys.

“Go home!” He barks, a fierce growl.

“Did they hurt you?” You ask softly, approaching him with hesitant steps.

He repeats his words, roaring at you to leave, but you don’t. Even with how fierce and terrifying his voice rages, you move, almost possessed, to kneel on the sand beside him.

“Are you hurt?” You repeat again gently.

He pauses before barking out a quick no.

“You were in the water?” You question low.

“I…” you’ve never heard Joel hesitate like this. Your eyes stay on his claws.

A moment passes.

“Always try to swim nearby when y’get in the water.” Joel admits, like he doesn’t even register yet that he's speaking.

Your heart gets tangled in your throat.

“Normally I stay far away and deep enough, but those fucking boys… the things they said.” He snarls disgusted and vicious.

He attacked them because of you. That reality rearranges your soul.

You now gingerly reach down to the water and gingerly grab his hand. Reflectively he almost draws away.

“What’re y’doing?” He mutters sharp.

“There’s still blood.” You whisper back then start pouring water over his hands, cleaning him.

The emotions surging in you feel too deep and strong to describe, but they consume you. You rinse his hands, being cautious of the sharp edges, watching the water fade away the crimson more and more.

It’s quiet in the alcove. Just you, him, and the soft sound of the waves. When his hands are free of blood, you gather one in your grasp. His talons are sharp. He’s dangerous, and you adore him. You gently draw it up to your face.

He doesn’t stop you. You even worry this might be too much, possibly overstepping. But this feeling in your chest is so raw you can’t stop.

You lean into Joel’s palm and gently kiss the center of it as your eyes close.

“Thank you.” You speak, barely recognizing your soft voice.

Suddenly you’re jostled. Your eyes snap open petrified thinking he’s shoving you away. Only to find he’s instead swiftly pulling you closer.

You’re only allowed to process that in a blink before his lips crash into yours. You inhale sharp but eagerly scramble to grab onto him now.

He tastes like the sea, of something deep and ancient but beautifully Joel, and your mouth opens up to him wide and greedy.

You can tell he hasn’t kissed recently, or maybe kissing other merfolk is different, but he’s messy. Teeth clink and crash, but it’s fierce, truly him.

Like the surge of a wave Joel moves against you unleashed, and you draw him closer now moving to rest back against the sand.

Joel shifts moving over your body with a clumsy but earnest ease as he continues kissing you fervently.

Your hands run up his broad and strong shoulders while his hands, claws no more, now map your body out.

“So god damn soft.” He says hoarse and deep against your lips. Then Joel burrows his face against your neck and inhales.

“Smell s’good.” His voice trails off while his lips begin kissing and nipping against your skin.

Your body reacts, rising up to grind against him.

“Joel.” You whisper out his name and he growls. The vibrations of it rumble against your skin rattling your bones.

“Wanna mate ya.” He mutters low, as if smoke leaks into his voice. “Wanna make y’mine.”

“Please please please.” You beg him dizzy and clawing at him.

Joel licks at your skin, and your eyes close in bliss.

He’s a force, dizzying and consuming like the sea itself, and you happily fall under his current. Your swimsuit top is discarded and Joel makes quick work diving down your body to your bottoms.

Without warning he shoves his face into between your legs, flat against your pussy and inhales deep. The most powerful groan rattles the air and you whine.

“Wanna taste, want more.” He mutters possessed, clawing at your bottoms that you shimmy out of.

Now you squirm a bit self aware, very hyper aware, of how intently Joel pokes and strokes around your folds with eyes focused.

You even shift your legs hoping to close them when he growls.

“Don’t hide. S’mine.” The possessive nature leaking out of his voice makes you drip.

That first lick he takes against you, you almost come especially when he groans debauched.

“Taste so fuckin’ good, knew y’d taste so fuckin’ good.” Joel mumbles.

What he lacks in his full knowledge of your body, he makes up for that in how fervently he lets his tongue explore and dive into you. It drives you mad, and your hips trash trying to press into him more.

When you come, he moans loud.

Lips wet with your essence Joel crawls up your body in a daze kissing you as much as he can.

Now he grinds down into you and you feel a very new sensation, a hard bump against your core.

Joel draws back and you now fully see the new raised area against his front torso. His hand palms it, the same way a human would, and he hisses. You ache to touch him.

“Wanna make you feel good too.” You mutter.

Joel blinks back at you, still hazy in his dark eyes. But he leans down and bumps his head against yours soft.

“Starlight, y’sure you want this?” You sure you want me, is what you hear.

You nod and kiss him soft on the lips.

A part of you wanted to be afraid, to not face the growing desire for this creature of a man. But when Joel and you become one, it feels as if the world becomes whole. Like this is what it’s always meant to be, you and him.

Your legs sliding against his tail, his teeth biting into your neck with an aching promise wanting to break the skin, you discover a crescendo of passion like no other, a crashing of the land and sea.

He is yours, just as much as you as his.

Now curled against him on the sand, your merman keeps you in his arms tracing his fingers against your shoulder. Every inch of you feels sore but in a delicious way. You enjoy resting against his sturdy frame.

“You’re still so warm.” Joel mutters a bit in awe.

“And you feel nice and cool.” You smile wiggling closer to him even while being practically glued to his side.

“Can I ask…” you begin hesitantly, and he hums a rumble of a noise that sounds like he’s giving you the okay.

You ask him why he suddenly vanished for that week.

Joel sighs, dreary and deep.

“Didn’t wanna face how… close I was gettin’ to you.” The reveal makes your heart flutter.

Softly you rub against his solid chest then lean to kiss it.

“Glad you came back.” You tell him, and he simply nods.

However even in this soft afterglow, a small doubt trickles now in.

“Joel.”

“Hm?” He sounds as if he’s falling asleep against you.

“Is this… Are you sure this is okay?” You ask delicately.

Joel snorts.

“Yeah, s’okay.” He reassures you. “Been practically courting ya this entire time anyway.”

He says it almost casually, like if it’s an afterthought. Your mind however skips over itself.

You bolt up to look down at your merman still lounging on the sand. His face scrunches up pouting at the loss of your body next to his.

“Wait? Courting?!” Your voice shrills.

Joel rolls his eyes and tugs at your arm trying to get you back into his embrace.

“What do you mean courting?!” You continue sqwuaking.

“You sound like a seagull.” He deadpans. You swat at his shoulder urging him to please explain.

You even stare at him determined. An adorable almost bitterly bashful expression colors Joel’s handsome face. Those deep eyes of his dart away from your stern gaze.

“S’nothin’. Been takin’ care of you same way you’ve been takin’ care of me, that’s all.” He replies gruffly still seeming embarrassed.

Suddenly it all clicks.

A few semesters back you took an ecology course for a science credit. You faintly remember a lecture about how different species mating behaviors. Your professor even made a comparison of a man winning a game of billiards against another guy to establish himself as a strong opponent.

In essence, sometimes mating rituals were about proving you were a strong provider and protector.

Joel had been doing this all along. The way he protected you on the beach, the various seafood critters left on the beach, the way you also fed him, along with the beautiful seashells and trinkets he left -

It had all been his own way of showing his affection and intentions.

Your merman opens his mouth to say something, but you pounce on him quickly. You kiss him pouring in all your devotion you can, and Joel welcomes you greedily.

Eventually a text from your mom comes asking if you’re alright and it gently bursts the bubble you’ve been happily sheltered in. Begrudgingly you kiss Joel many times goodbye. He of course swims by your side the entire walk home.

Later that evening, you sneak back out to the shoreline and kiss your handsome myth of man so many times under the moon's watchful eye.

“So you’re mine?” You ask quietly among the crash of the waves.

Joel nods firm and steady. “Just like you’re mine.”

You float in a dreamy bliss and wish more than ever you don’t have to leave him for the night.

“Don’t worry, lil’ minnow.” He reassures you with one last soft kiss. “I’ll be in the water.”

It’s a promise, a vow, as true and beautifully ancient as the sea.

#if you’re reading this thank you so much me and merman Joel are giving you all the underwater treasures #joel miller x reader #merman!joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #Joel miller fic #under the water series #Joel 🤎#pedrostories

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kissingchamber · 4 months ago

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kiss it better !

𝜗𝜚 synopsis: your best friend likes to crawl in through your window at odd hours to have you patch him up

𝜗𝜚 pairing(s): Peter Parker x male reader

𝜗𝜚 warning(s): blood, injury, ambiguous / open ending (should i do a part 2?)

𝜗𝜚 notes: English is not my first language!!! This was written with usm!peter in mind but it can be any peter you imagine! Also my first ever writing on tumblr eek ><

It's way too late. I probably shouldn't bother him, it's almost midnight. He's probably asleep! I shouldn't wake him up. I can patch myself up just fine, I don't need to inconvenience him. Are all thoughts that wander around Peter's head during nights like these, when he's just finished a less than pleasant patrol and has a more than desirable amount of injuries. But every time, without fail, he still comes to you.

And that's exactly where he is right now; quietly opening your bedroom window— the window you purposely leave unlocked for him— and slipping in.

You notice Peter, getting up from where you had been sitting on your bed, and reach for the first-aid kit you've began to keep under your bed.

"Hey web head, what have you got for me tonight?" It's routine at this point; he'll come in through your window, you grab the first-aid, and ask him about his injuries.

Peter flops onto your bed and groans. "It feels like my arm is being ripped off at the shoulder."

You get him to sit up before sliding the top half of his battered suit off, revealing his bloodied arm, and the giant bruise on his shoulder that's already blooming a bright purple color.

"Ouch... Where'd you manage to get this one?" You ask, mostly to try and distract him from the pain, but also because you're curious.

Peter tells you about his patrol and the bruise as you get to work, cleaning the blood and sanitizing his wounds. Thankfully, you don't need to stitch him up tonight, just some gauze and painkillers should do it.

You're just finishing up when Peter absentmindedly starts speaking. "Man, I just wish you wouldn't have to do all this to help me. That there was an easier way to do all this."

You let out a snort. He's so silly sometimes. You can't help but think. "What? Like, kiss it better or something?" You tease, ruffling his hair.

"Yeah, exactly! Like why do you have to go through all this trouble when you could just fairytale-kiss me and heal me right away!" He sounds so enthusiastic you just have to chuckle a little.

You sit down next to him, slowly leaning down, and planting a sweet kiss on his shoulder. "Like that?" You smirk and he blushes. Seriously, he's full on blushing! And you can't help but do so too.

"Y- yeah..." Peter coughs, hiding his face in his hands for a moment. "Uhm. I gotta go... Can't let aunt May notice I'm gone, y'know?" He's already getting up and going to the window.

"Right, right! Aunt May, can't believe I forgot her." You nod, and he's already halfway out the window. "Kay, byeee! " You reply with a mumbled goodbye and he swings away into the night.

You touch your lips. The very same lips that were against his shoulder just moments ago! God, did I really just do that? You wonder as you flop onto your back on the bed, much like he did when he first came in.

𝜗𝜚 note: thank you for reading! Reblogs are appreciated!!

#𝜗𝜚 nick writes #peter parker x male reader #spiderman x male reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #spider man #peter parker #ultimate spider man #male reader #x male reader #ultimate spiderman x reader

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dreamwritesimagines · 1 year ago

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The Eye of the Hurricane [1] - A Night Out

A.N: Here we go my loves, the first chapter! ❤️ I hope you'll like it, and please don't forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤️

Summary: A night out with an old friend can lead to surprises.

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don't condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to have a normal life.

Granted that was never in the cards but you liked to pretend from time to time. You knew it was selfish and incredibly dangerous as everyone kept reminding you, yet you didn’t care. After all, it was one of the very few luxuries you couldn’t afford and you were nothing if not determined.

Besides, considering since you were expected not to be a part of the family business, you figured you could enjoy the benefits for the time being.

So far, there was no sign of any bodyguards your father always made sure to put on your tail which meant he was blissfully unaware of where you were or what you were doing. If it were any other time, you would have been surprised by that alone but surprises seemed to be the theme of the week. To be completely honest, you had your doubts when your ex from college had contacted you to say he was moving to the city and wanted to catch up with you. Even though he was one of the very few ex-boyfriends you had broken up with on good terms, he still had an inkling about your family and most of the time, people were too intimidated by that to catch up with you.

With good reason.

But tonight was going to be different. Setting up a casual dinner and drinks night outside your father’s territory was a great first step for in your opinion, for a couple of hours you could pretend you were a normal girl who was having a normal night out with a normal guy.

You even drove your own car to the bar, something you hadn’t done in a long time.

“So yeah, let’s just say that it wasn’t the wisest decision.”

You let out a laugh, tilting your head.

“I don’t know Ethan,” you said. “Taking a girl to a horror themed corn maze? You get an A for effort.”

“In my defense, it was like two weeks after you broke up with me so I wasn’t thinking straight,” he said. “Besides, she said she liked horror movies.”

You hummed. “And how did that go?”

“Terribly,” he pointed out with a grin. “We got lost, and then I had this bright idea of finding the guide myself and we went in different directions, and she got out and I ended up getting even more lost.”

You pressed your palm on your mouth to hide your laugh.

“Then she sent the guide to find me,” he said and you cleared your throat, trying to keep a serious expression.

“You do realize you are the type of person who wouldn’t last an hour in a horror movie, right?”

“People who are trying to survive in horror movies have too much ambition if you ask me,” he said and sipped his drink. “How about you? Any terrible dates since our uh…fairytale romance?”

“We dated for like three months during sophomore year Ethan,” you said with a laugh and he nodded with a grin.

“They were good three months though.”

“Oh please,” you said. “I’m not even sure I could call that dating, I basically had to beg you to spend time with me.”

“We spent a lot of time—”

“In daylight,” you corrected yourself. “You had no problem finding time for me at night.”

He scrunched up his face, then nodded his head.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Yeah I’m…I’m sorry about that. I was an ass.”

“Water under the bridge,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “College is the perfect time for relationship mistakes, and to be honest I was kind of an idiot.”

“Oh come on Y/N,” he said with a chuckle. “I was the idiot. You were perfect, you still are.”

You scoffed.

“Not even close, trust me,” you said and raised your hand at the bartender, motioning for another drink. The bar wasn’t crowded by any means, only another couple by another booth and three men playing pool. A silence fell upon you and Ethan shifted his weight.

“So uh—can I ask you something?”

Your heart skipped a nervous beat but you made sure it didn’t show on your face. “Sure.”

“Was it…” he paused and took a deep breath. “Was it true?”

The waitress brought you your drink and you thanked her, then turned to Ethan again. “Hm?”

“You know, back in college there were all these rumors,” he stammered. “About your family and you never really said— whether they were true or not.”

Ah. Back to that, of course.

You had practiced this calmness way too many times for it to falter even for a moment, and you sipped your drink.

“I totally forgot,” you said. “Remind me what those rumors were?”

“People used to say your father—he and his business partners, I mean,” he said with a nervous laugh. “My friends used to say the city was divided between them.”

“Sounds quite medieval,” you pointed out, leaning back as a couple of men walked in, chattering. Ethan thought for a moment, then scoffed a laugh.

“Right,” he said. “I don’t know why I…don’t mind me. It does sound unreal, I mean—what are the chances that a couple of families rule the entire city, right?”

“I don’t know, I hear it was a thing in the 18th century,” you stated, catching the gaze of the man who had just walked up to the bar and ordered a drink. You eyed him up and down and by the time your gaze fell on the shape of the gun tucked underneath his jacket, you had already straightened your back, your whole body going tense.

“Jesus you should’ve heard the things they said. To be honest with you, I actually believed that whole underworld thing for some time,” Ethan said as the man said something to his friends while your eyes darted around the room, your heartbeat getting faster as you reached for the knife beside your plate.

Great.

This was not your ideal night out alright.

“Now to think about it, it’s not—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence when you threw the knife at one of the men and kicked the chair under Ethan, making him lose his balance before you flipped the table so that you could use it as a cover for you both as soon as the shooting started. The bullets wheezed past you, the couple by the other booth screaming while you pushed Ethan’s head down.

“What the hell is going on?!” he asked as you looked over the table for a second and turned to him, your heart beating in your ears, adrenaline rushing through you so fast that it made your head spin.

“I can explain later, do you have a gun with you?”

“What?!”

“I don’t think I should be repeating myself right now Ethan!” you hissed as shots echoed through the bar and he shook his head.

“No of course not!”

“The one time I ditch the bodyguards,” you grumbled “This is unbelievable…”

“Miss Y/N!” the man’s voice rang over the bar and you gritted your teeth. “The infamous princess. Such a surprise meeting you here, where are your daddy’s men?”

“On their way here I’m guessing but before they get here, I just have one question,” you called out. “Are you guys fucking idiots?”

He tsk tsked.

“That daddy of yours spoiled you too much,” he said. “Has anyone told you that?”

“Yeah, multiple men,” you retorted. “Didn’t end well for them I’ll tell you that.”

“I’d say it looks like it’ll end well for me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure buddy,” you said. “I’ll be surprised if you last the night.”

Several gunshots came from the corners of the bar, and you took cover again but before you could say anything else, you felt someone grab you and pull you upright. You grabbed the gun from him and fired it right at his knee, making him let out a scream of anguish and fall to the floor. The door of the kitchen was kicked open right before more guns were fired in the chaos which made it clear that it wasn’t Steve’s men who were trying to shoot you considering it was his territory, this was his one of many bars and these new people, whoever they were, were shooting at his men as well. It made absolutely zero sense that someone would attack you like this, especially since—

“Everyone stop or the next bullet goes through his head!”

You turned to point the pistol at the owner of the voice but as soon as you did, your heart dropped to your stomach. The man –probably the leader— holding the gun at Ethan’s head smirked and motioned at you.

“Drop the gun sweetheart.”

“Y/N, don’t!” Ethan said, trying to get out of his grip but the man fired the gun through his shoulder, making him yell out in pain and you gritted your teeth. The headlights of a car flashed outside, capturing your attention for a moment before you lowered the gun, someone hastily grabbing it from you. The leader pushed Ethan to one of his friends and stepped closer to you, now aiming the gun at your face but you were way too good at keeping your fear under control in situations like these to flinch at it.

You’d had a lifetime of practice after all.

“So what do you say we take a little trip outside huh?” he asked and you arched a brow.

“What do you say you go fuck yourself?”

He cocked the gun and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh no, a gun,” you deadpanned, checking your fingernails. “Am I supposed to be scared now?”

“This is not your daddy’s territory, girl.”

You scoffed a laugh and lifted your glances from your nails. “Doesn’t matter, you idiot. The truce has been going on for years now, and anyone who breaks it will pay for that mistake with their lives. What is this, your first day on the job?”

“No one taught you not to smart mouth the man holding the gun?”

“No one taught you not to sign your own death sentence?” you asked back and he gave you a dry chuckle, taking a step towards you, still holding the gun.

“Keep talking like that,” he said. “Maybe I’ll take my time with you before handing you over to the boss.”

You opened your mouth to retort but before you could say anything, a deafening shot echoed through the room and blood splattered all over your face and your dress. The leader’s lifeless body dropped to the floor and you wiped at your face with a grimace before you turned to glare at your savior who looked almost amused at your annoyed expression.

“Bucky,” you gritted out and he winked at you, that arrogant grin you knew so well pulling at his lips.

“Hi Charm.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mob! bucky #mob!bucky barnes #mob bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob boss!bucky #mob bucky barnes x reader

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dalamjisung · 5 months ago

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A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 4: Pushing the limits

genre: mostly fluff... with a tiny bit of angst because I just can't not write angst LMAO

word count: 5861

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: for once, you have a good day. and you feel untouchable. until, that is, you're not.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

author's note: sorry for the delay on the update, but it's finally here! I'm excited to see this story evolving! what are you excited about with this chapter? Let me know in the comments! <3 if you want to join the taglist for this series, please let me know in the comments!

It’s weird to think that once upon a time, you lived in New York.

You had always loved the city in all its might. A lot of people complained about the grey, tall buildings, but you used to think that the colour suited you. That the lifeless of it all didn’t really matter, because life was all over New York City. The bustling of the people, the voices and languages mixing in every block, the smell of food from the falafel carts in every corner; sure, the city was dead, but my god were the people alive.

You were alive, back then.

So much so that you think you might have attracted the dead, because the night you met Josh was a night you felt invincible. You felt like you had enough power in you to light up the entire grid of the city that never slept, so when he approached you, with his light blonde hair and bright blue eyes, you were up for the challenge. Even your friend was impressed when you didn’t coil away from his eager hands, and maybe she regrets it now– maybe she curses herself for not pulling you away from him, for not stoping you when you left with him. Maybe she hates herself for what she let you do back then, but the truth of the matter is that even if she had tried, you don’t think she would’ve succeeded.

Josh was different than most guys you knew, but that didn’t mean much– your aversion to human interaction had always plagued you when it came to romance and friendships. Alas, you found your similars; you met people who loved book just as much as you and you found your place with a selected few. You didn’t mind, not having all that many friends when you had an amazing handful instead; they were all loyal, understanding, and kind, much like you.

Meaning that Josh wasn’t. But you didn’t know that at first, too blinded by the flowers, and the expensive dinners, and the beautiful gifts. Whenever you remember them– the moments, the memories, the things– you’re washed by a sense of shame and embarrassment unlike anything else you felt before. You’d like to stand up for yourself and deny it, deny all of it, say you’re not materialist like this, but that would be a lie. You are a bookseller, for crying out loud. A collector. For you, mementos mean something; the feeling of something familiar in your hands, be it the weight or the texture or just the shape, enough to bring back moments that are long gone in the hands of time. Objects and souvenirs are the next best thing you have to a photo album of memories that can’t be captured by a camera, and you are not ashamed of it.

What you are ashamed of was how easily you fooled yourself for him. For Josh. It was all those damned fairytales you’ve read growing up, it had to be. Or maybe it was his friends and their comments of how perfect you two were together. Whatever it was, it had to be something. You’d hate to believe that you were shallow enough to endure him on his worst days just because of the things he gave you on his good days.

Naturally, Josh was a much more extroverted personality. Keeping up with his social life was exhausting. Every night there was something to do, a dinner, a party, a meet-up. And those weren’t all that fun, either, though you learned to fake it pretty well. During these public appearances, you let yourself believe that yes, you two were this amazing power couple. You allowed yourself a moment to push away from all the regret and just enjoy the small things– the touches, the fleeting kisses, the loving nicknames. Because you knew that once you got home, all of that would fade and disappear until the next event you’d be forced to attend.

The question that most people asked was why did it take so long for you to leave him, why did it have to be that bad before you allowed yourself to go; and the answer was always the same: you don’t know. You don’t fucking know why you stayed with him, you don’t know why you loved him, you don’t know anything except the fact that you did– you did stay, you did love him, you did everything you wished you hadn’t. And it still led you to that night, to that rotten smelling taxi, to you crying in a red eye flight, to you landing, lost and hurt.

Because that night might have been the first time he laid his hands on you, but you doubted it would be the last. And it was up to you to do something about it.

————————————

“Y/N? Are you up?”

It’s a rhetorical question more than anything– you’ve been awake all night and Spencer knows. He blinked awake with every twist and turn, and in the morning, when his alarm went off, you were stiff on your side, trying to pretend you’re asleep.

This has nothing to do with him. Last night, things ended in a positive note. After he showered, he came to bed to find you still wearing his FBI hoodie, and the smile on his face was enough to have you smiling too. You fell asleep to the sweet sounds of him reading you The Illustrated Man. Ray Bradbury is a common name in your guys’ conversations and it’s cute how he spends almost fifteen minutes looking for one of his books in the mess that are his shelves. According to him, they used to be alphabetised by author’s last name, much like in your store, but because of the time you’ve had in there, things have gotten a little… messy. You have a habit of reading different things at the same time and Spencer finds that adorable, even if it breaks his system with how you leave books scattered around the house.

“Yeah,” You call back, meeting his eye when he pops his head through the door. His hair is pointing in all directions, and you can smell food coming from the kitchen. “Are you cooking something? Spence, you said you don’t cook, what are you doing?”

“I’m a thirty year old man,” He said, laughing at how you push the duvet away so desperately you trip on it to run to where you assume the fire is. “Careful! Oh my god, Y/N, you’re breaking my heart here, I’m not burning anything!”

It’s not your fault that your mind immediately goes to the worst case scenario. From all the stories you’ve heard, all the ones that ended in disaster were set in his kitchen. “Spence, you could’ve woken me up,” You shake your head when you see that he actually just made toast with butter and jam. “I would’ve made you something to eat.”

“You’re not my maid,” He says, standing behind you with his hands in his pockets and this is when you notice– he’s wearing sweatpants. Previously, when he was sick and you brought him medicine, he was wearing casual clothes too, but you were too busy fussing over him to fully appreciate the beauty that is Casual Spencer. His grey sweatpants and crumpled white t-shirt are enough to have you blushing and averting your eyes. In your store, he is excited. At home, he is relaxed. Those are two different things in the best of ways. “And I wanted to… talk.”

Immediately, you have alarm bells ringing in your head and he notices it. It’s kind of funny, how you learned to read Spencer while he is reading you– you know when things set him off when his eyes widen a little, like a little tell he does every time. Maybe you’re better at this than you think, proud of yourself when he immediately waves his hands in the air, a desperate gaze in his eyes making you snort. “No, no, no,” Words fall from his lips a bit too fast for you to not trip up on them. “No, it’s nothing like that! It’s nothing bad, I just want to know how you’re doing and… check in on you.”

“You want to check in on me?” You shouldn’t sound this enamoured, and you hate yourself for it. For the first time, you two are having an open conversation about what is happening and you want to make sure you’re present and paying attention.

“Of course I do,” His mumbling is barely audible from the living room, but when he yelps ouch and turns around with a plate of toast and coffee, you hear him loud and clear. Words mean a lot for someone like you, someone who lives off of them, but actions might just mean more because of who they are coming from. Because of his shy nature, when Spencer is direct and a bit more abrupt, it means something– it means that he is angry, or happy, or emotional, or dedicated. You like that he is dedicated about this; about you. It’s selfish in nature, but it’s true– him making you breakfast, him fussing over you, him trying… it’s all just Spencer’s way of showing that he is serious about this, and you don’t mind one bit. “Here you go. Eat up.”

Instead, you show him you’re serious too. You smile, and wait until he has grabbed his own food and joined you on the couch, to start talking. “Spencer, thank you,” You whisper, looking down at the little space that keeps you two apart as a reminder: things might be getting better, and they might be on the mend, but there is still a long way to go for things to get great.

Surprisingly enough, though, it’s quite easy to forget about Cat Adams when she’s not harassing you with unwanted gifts or letters, and it feels quite powerful to do so. Just like how easy it was to forget Josh when he couldn’t call you anymore, or touch you anymore, or scream at you anymore. What felt like the weight of the world on your shoulders now is simply the touch of a butterfly, floating away as soon as the moment of overthinking and anxiety is done. Some days, it lasts longer than others, and those are the bad the days. But on the better days, the ones that you are able to busy yourself with your store, your crush, your family; yeah, those are the days that Josh and Cat simply can’t get to you.

Today is a better day.

Hell, you might even dare to say that today is a good day, and more and more, you realise just how rare they are. So for today, you don’t allow the ghost of past and future lives to haunt you. For today, you’ll enjoy the blessings of the present.

“Thank you for… helping me through all of this,” You continue, sipping on your coffee to try and keep your hands busy and away from his. After you got a little taste yesterday, feeling the warmth of his palm enveloping yours, you can’t help but want more. You want more touches, more smiles, more sneaky glances. You just want more Spence, however you can have him. “You didn’t have to help me through it all like this. And you certainly didn’t have to come back in the middle of a case just because of this whole mess. So thank you. This really means a lot. You… You mean a lot to me.”

“Y/N, I didn’t come back because of this situation, I came back for you.”

All air is knocked out of your lungs when he says that. In a very Spencer fashion, he doesn’t say it like a confession, like it’s a secret he couldn’t keep it inside anymore. This is nothing more and nothing less than a fact, like all the many others he has told you in your year or something long friendship. He came back for you, and the Earth is round. He came back for you, and the Russian Orthodox Church excommunicated Tolstoy. He came back for you, and Plank’s constant is a fundamental universal constant that defines the quantum nature of energy and relates the energy of a photon to its frequency.

Simple as that.

“I came back for you,” He says again, nervous finger ripping his toast apart until there is no longer a toast there anymore, just bits and pieces of what it once was. Cleaning your hands from crumbs and butter, you gently extend your arm, wanting to show him support in the best way you know how to. But then you remember: Spencer is a germaphobe. He’s reserved and he prefers to wave rather than shake hands, and you pause, hand hovering over his in unsureness. Just as you’re about to pull away, he moves, a flash of limbs and plates that leaves you not time to react.

Spencer is fast and it actually surprises you to see the clumsy man being so agile. He takes a hold of your hand and the familiarity of it all spreads a blush through your body. Even if he had stopped then and there, giving you just this little taste of affection, you would be happy. The way your cheeks flush to that rosy tone he loves so much and never says anything is enough of a hint to how you’re feeling, and this time around, Spencer wants to push the limits just a little bit, just a little more. And it’s obvious by the way his eyes shine with a mischievous glimmer of intent, grabbing you into him until your bodies crash together.

This is the first time you two hug. It’s the first time your arms go around his shoulder, and it’s the first time his arms hook under yours. Spence hugs you like he needs to hug you, face rubbing on your neck like he’s trying to bury it there and hide from the whole world. Like you can actually protect him, and this time, you actually think you can. Your hands move up and down his back, a soft touch for the man that hated them so much. Sadness sweeps through you when you think about little him, avoiding touches and waving from afar instead. “Spence…” You mumble, pushing away for a second to try and talk to him, but he is quick to hold you in place.

“Stay,” The way his voice breaks off makes you hug him even tighter. “Please. I… I’m happy you’re here.”

“Spence, what’s going on?” Maybe it’s good that you can’t really look eye to eye. Those honey orbs, always so shiny and expectant, render you defenceless every time.

He takes a moment to answer and you know he’s thinking, the machinery in his head whirring to lifer. “When you called me that night, I think my heart stopped. I thought… I thought something had happened to you, and I couldn’t… be there. I couldn’t be here. And it broke my heart, because this is my fault. It’s my fault that you’re scared and that your entire life changed, and I’m just really sorry, Y/N.”

That is a hard pill to swallow. You knew he was feeling guilty; you know more about Spencer than he thinks you do– but what you didn’t know was that he was feeling bad. “Spence, I’m okay. And I’m safe. All because of you. I… I’ve been doing some research, and I know this is not usually something that would take priority for the FBI, considering that besides a note, Cat hasn’t really done anything to me, and if it wasn’t because of you, I’d probably be going through all of this alone.”

“You are a priority to me.”

“I know that now,” You whisper, shaky fingers raking through his hair in a desperate attempt to calm him down, praying, begging, hoping he won’t ask you to stop. “At… first I did blame you a little. Like, not blame you, but… it was like I couldn’t separate you and what was going on and I was angry and upset and I’m sorry too. I pushed you away when I think we both needed some support from each other, and I didn’t mean to make you worry even more, you have to believe me, I swear!”

You don’t know when the roles reverse, but it’s like a war of tug, sometimes you pull and sometimes you get pulled, and right now, Spencer is pulling you into his arms with the strength of a man who needs you. “No, Y/N, no no, you don’t have to apologise! This… God, this is a mess.”

Chuckling with him feels better than chuckling at him, and you take the moment to just enjoy the feeling of being in his arms with no rhyme or reason. “It really is, but it’s our mess and I think that, all in all, we’re dealing with it quite well, Spence.”

Everything about that moment is soft. The light is trying to come through the curtains and you smile to yourself. Spencer has always been stubborn about sunlight and he prefers the apartment on the darker side, but you can’t help but let your fingers move from his shoulder, dragging the tips all the way from his shoulder, down his arm, and extending to the end of the curtain, hooking them on the corner and raising a little bit. “It’s a nice day out…” You mumble more to yourself than him.

“Do you want to go out?” Spence asks, raising his head away from your shoulder to look at you, but you just shake your head. “What do you want to do? I have the day off today, so we can do anything you want, I swear.”

“Hmm, can we go to the store?” Sure, it’s not the most exciting thing ever, but you miss it. You miss your books that you keep in a special corner behind the counter, and you miss the deliveries that are probably pilling up with your neighbour. The question is more amusing than anything, though, because you know the answer already.

And him shaking his head only confirms your theory. Even though you know, you’re still frustrated. “Spence, please…”

“Y/N, your house is above your store,” He does seem to be upset with his own answer, and though that does not make you feel any better, you at least know he understands where you’re coming from. “We can’t risk it right now. Cat just sent a note straight to your address, and we don’t know if she knows you own the store or not, or if she has a partner working with her from the outside, or–”

“I know, I just– I don’t want to lose my store. It’s all I have.” The way your fingers fidget, playing with each other in a familiar nervous manner that you’ve surely picked up from him, has Spencer reaching out to hold your hands with both of his. It leaves you a bit breathless to notice just how big his hands are, covering yours completely.

“You will not lose your store. I will not let that happen. But I think this could be a good chance to maybe think about a hiring a manager or a helper for a while. Temporarily! Just until we can make sure that you are safe.” Without noticing, his thumb slides over the top of your hand, a calming back and forth that eases the frown on your forehead when you think about a stranger at your store. “Just someone to be with you when the store is empty, Y/N.”

Logic is on his side, as usual, and although you would never consider this under normal circumstances, you are reaching a point in which there are no other options. “A couple of days ago I sold out of stock for the first time since opening the store. I’m finally turning profit after being barely able to keep the place afloat. I love my daily routine there. I can’t let her take this away from me, Spence.”

“And she won’t. But don’t you think the help will be good? With new stock coming in and the reading events you wanted to prepare, having a trusty helper will save you some stress. And we’ll have Penelope run a check on every candidate!”

“I don’t know… is it fair for me to get someone involved in… this?” He instantly knows what you mean. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course you can. I understanding this was not in your plans, and I know you love your job and your routine and we’ll make a new one for you! We’ll create a schedule and we’ll alternate days so that you don’t have a predictable location and-and we can make it a fun thing, you know? Creating the week’s schedule, like the Sunday crossword! We could do the schedule on Saturdays and the crossword on Sundays– what do you think?”

You think this is a plan. A future plan. A future plan that is reliant on the fact of you still living in his apartment and part of you hates it, because part of you, a big part of you, wants to go home and stop feeling like such a burden to him. But then there is the smaller part of you; the part that likes waking up and hearing his hoarse voice first thing in the morning; the part of you that feels spoiled with the breakfasts in the couch; the part of you that hasn’t really been loved in a while and really missed it. That is the same part of you that swoons every time he smiles at you, and you nod, and nod, and nod. “That sounds perfect,” You whisper, looking around the living room and seeing this future he talks so much about. It truly does sound… “Perfect.”

That afternoon, he helps you write a job ad for a store manager. It’s fun doing this with him because you get a chance to pick that brain that always amazes you so much. “No, no, you should give them a feel for the store,” The way his breathing hits the nape of your neck with every word he says while reading over your shoulder makes you shiver. “Oh? Are you cold?” What you miss is the the little smile he gives you from behind, turning to quickly grab the blanket you left on the armchair to cover your shoulders.

“But I don’t want them too comfortable, it’s still my store,” You grumble, leaning back without even thinking about it. You are both by the kitchen counter, and you’re sitting on a stool with Spencer right behind you, so when you fall back, arms curling around your body and wrapping the blanket tighter around you, you fall right onto his chest. The shattered pieces of that wall you two had between you two lay on your feet, no completely gone but simply lowered; the jitters of having him so close, the anxiety of maybe having him pull away, the strong beat of his heart right on your back. It’s all there, and it all amplifies when his arms wrap around your waist. It’s too careful, the way he holds you; too light and gentle and oh so slow. You just want him to hug you like he did before, to show you more of that hidden strength he kept suppressed all the time. Spencer is not dominant by any mean, but he isn’t someone to be walked all over, either, and the more that Cat pushes you, the more you are starting to see him push back.

And you love when Spencer push back.

“Okay, focus!” His voice snaps you back to reality, so close to your ear and his chin digging on your shoulder. It’s cute how he likes to fit his face in the little nook of your neck, between your cheeks and shoulders, and it’s… oddly intimate. The kind of intimate that makes you tense up a little just at the thought. “Hey… I know this is a big step for the store, but I’m proud of you. It’ll be great to be able to share the responsibility of the place with someone else. A team is not so bad, Y/N.”

If he is any indication of what is like to have a partner, if having Spencer by your side and ready to back you up is a little taster of what being on a team is like, then he might just be right. “I know, I just… this is my baby, you know? I moved to Washington with a backpack and an email from the agent to lease the place and there is a lot of effort and emotional energy and money that went into this!”

“You moved to Washington with just a backpack?”

Curiosity is a natural response for a man like Spencer. He is curious about virtually everything and anything, and it makes your heart beat faster, every time, when he asks something to you. It feels like a sign of trust, that he is willing to actually learn from you, to listen to you, and to store all you say into his hungry brain. This time, however, when your heart speeds up, it doesn’t have those same palpitation of adoration, those same butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Instead, it feels like there’s a rock, heavy and cold and hard, being thrown around your gut, all sharp edges and precise hits. “I, uh,” Immediately, you want to move– you want to push your hair back or scratch the mysterious itch on your nape or rub the tension off of your forehead– but then you remember that he is an avid reader. And that, apparently, you are his new favourite book.

You try to play it cool, hand coming back down to the laptop’s keyboard to type out some basic information on the store and the schedule. “Yeah, it was a weird time,” And that’s all you say on the subject, even if the way he squints, those molten brown eyes running over every inch of you that you’re sure he has committed to memory, tell you that he has gotten much more information than you were willing to give. “Okay, I think it’s ready?”

He knows what you’re doing, but he doesn’t care. Uncomfortableness is written all over you, from how your shoulders hunch forward to how you stick your hands between your thighs to stop them from fidgeting. Spencer is very careful of your self-awareness. He has seen you shut down before and he knows the telling signs– you pull away, withdraw back and back and back, until you disappear in the background of your anxieties. The last thing he wants is for you to not speak to him again, arms squeezing you a bit close in fear that you might just get up and leave him behind again. Having you sit on the armchair, so close yet so far while he slept in the couch next to you, had been hard. Incredibly hard. And Spencer isn’t sure he can handle that again.

So he lets it go.

He hums, and nods, and lets you think you’ve fooled him. He lets you think that you’ve successfully whisked his attention away from the topic he wants to chat through and dissect so badly. “Looks great,” It’s cute how fast he reads the ad, and before you can overthink about it, he clicks ‘send.’ “Spence! Oh my god!”

“You weren’t going to do it,” He laughs, shaking his head and turning the stool so that you two are face to face. “I’m sorry you have to do this.”

“It’s okay,” You whisper, breath hitching on your throat with just how intensely he’s looking at you. There is tension between you two, strong and growing, and it’s not the first time you’ve noticed it.

Sometimes, you think that this weird connection dates back to the first few months you knew each other. At first, it was about stupid things like what authors were truly considered cult or what were the best tropes. Banter, with Spencer, was always fun, like a little debate filled with smiles and giggles and… privacy, almost. Intimacy. It’s like every time you two talk a bubble forms around you, and no one can steal his attention. He is present, at all times, and it makes you feel like you matter; it makes you want to be present, too, happily listening to his rants and lecture with attentive eyes. Sometimes, you even pulled out a little notebook after he was gone to work, noting down the facts you’ve managed to remember, and whenever you were a bit bored, you would pull your notes out and read them over, smiling at the memories of him. The memories of him that are now locked in the drawer behind your counter. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“I need to go get some stuff from the store,” You mumble, looking up at him with begging eyes. “I know you said to keep out, but please, Spence, I need more clothes and I need my things.”

It doesn’t take much convincing to have him ready to go, and you are almost giddy at the sight of Spencer in jeans. Everyone can, or at least they should, see beyond the slacks and the sweater vests. Underneath it all, you know there is a man who needs some tender loving– you know there are scars, maybe visible, maybe not, but it doesn’t matter. Without his tie and his button ups, Spencer is just like any other guy, and the walls come down. Right now, he is Spence, your favourite customer and the guy that makes your heart beat faster, and you kind of love that you get to leave Agent Reid behind for a day or two.

“Let’s go, Spence!” You call, excited to get out of the house for a bit. The fresh air coming in from the open window teases you enough to have you stomping, shouting for him again. “Spencer!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” His laughter echoes in the apartment and you smiled when you see him grabbing his phone and keys.

This is too good to be true. It has now been eight days since the initial package you received in Spencer’s name, and as much as you know his intentions are good, you do wonder if maybe he is going a little overboard out of guilt. “I’m so excited to go to the store with you again!” You shriek, going down the stairs with him in tow. You’re not really looking where you’re going, constantly turning back to look at him just to catch a glimpse of that adorable smile he tries to hold back.

“Y/N, watch out–“ In all fairness, Spencer tries to reach for you and hold you back, but the moment your feet touch the ground floor, your body hits another with such impulse that you sway back into Spencer’s hands. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yeah, I’m–“ Turning to the person, a young woman with an expression of as much shock as yours, you immediately start to apologise. “I’m so sorry! Oh god, I’m so sorry, I–“ “Don’t worry at all,” She smiles and picks up her boxes again. “I couldn’t see because of the boxes, it’s my fault.”

“Are you moving in?”

You know that tone of voice. It’s stored in your brain as the tone of voice you never wanted to hear again, after hours of it back at the BAU office. “Hey, come on,” You whisper, allowing him lightly.

“Yes! I’m moving into apartment 13. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Abigail. Do you guys live in the building?”

“Oh, I uh, I’m just–“

The way he slips his hand in yours, fingers folding with yours. “Yeah, we live upstairs,” He says vaguely, slowly continuing to walk own the hall. “We’re a bit late, but it was great meeting you Abigail. See you around.”

You barely have time to wave before he has you out in the street, phone out and ready to go. “Sorry, I just need to call Garcia for a second. Go ahead, yeah? I’m right behind you, I promise.”

Under his watchful eyes, you take the lead in making your way to the bookstore. The sound of his shoes crackling in the sidewalk behind you is comforting. “I’m going in, just call out for me when you’re ready, okay?”

As soon as you get inside, it’s like you’re home. The books are everywhere, and you feel their warm embrace as they whisper stories in your ears. You’re like a hurricane in there, moving around with such trained expertise that no one could ever contest that you belong there, in your sacred place. Your backpack is by the counter, slowly filling up with books you want to take with you, and you enjoy the fact that Spencer is busy to check your emails for online orders and stock. So far, no big losses have taken place and you’ve only been closed for a couple of days, but you are realistic about the future of this place and you know this cannot continue. The more you see the store suffering from all of this, the more you agree that having someone mind the place while you’re out might be a good idea. Hesitancy still swirls in your heart, but you’ll do anything to avoid the heartbreak of losing your bookshop.

You don’t turn around when the bell rings. “Spence, I might need a couple more minutes–“

“We got to go. I’m sorry Y/N, we need to go, grab whatever you can.”

A sharp exhale escapes you like a knife just wedged itself in your lungs. “What’s going on?”

“Officer Kaper just called for backup,” Everything is fast again, moving forward, forward, forward, and Spencer knows how overwhelming this must be, specially after the slow and soft morning you two had, but he is working on a one track mind. He needs to get you out of there.

“Backup?” Cars honk while you two cross the street in a hurry. “Spencer, stop running, stop! What’s going on?!”

He doesn’t answer you until you’re both in his apartment, door locked and phone in hand, nervously squeezing it while he paced around.

“Spence,” You call again, careful with how you approach him when he is trying so hard to keep control of himself. “Spence, I– What’s going on?”

His eyes tell you everything. In those whiskey coloured pupils, you see the hurt and the pain, and you see the hesitation. One hand moves to push his hair back, frustration lacing every movement he makes, from walking to the couch and letting his body plop down to how his head hangs low.

“He’s on his way to the hospital. His house got broken into and… we have no confirmation, but we think it’s–“

“Fucking Cat.”

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madridfangirl · 2 months ago

Text

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 16

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

..................................................

Ananya stared at the photo without blinking. Consciously trying to figure whether this was real or a cruel nightmare she’d wake up from any second.

When her phone flashed with Roma’s name, she knew she was living her nightmare. There was no escape.

‘Finally.’

Roma’s relieved voice came from the speaker, while Ananya’s eyes were still glued to the photo.

‘Say something girl. Please.’

There was no point asking if Ananya had seen the article and the photos, and that one photo in particular. The deafening eerie silence at the other end was confirmation enough.

‘She’s pretty, isn’t she?’

Roma started pacing around her boyfriend’s living room. This is exactly what she was worried about. That her friend would somehow find a way to take it upon herself, instead of being raving mad at that fucker.

‘No babe, don’t do that to yourself.’

‘Well she is. Very beautiful.’

‘I DON’T FUCKING CARE how she looks or who she is. This is not about her.’

Ananya shook her head ruefully, and spoke in a small, faraway voice.

‘She is just his type.’

Roma wanted to throw her phone at the wall. And Jude out of the window.

Guilt was hitting her in truckloads. And she cursed the moment when she had encouraged Ananya to give this relationship a shot. Moments rather, coz there had been many. She had been #TeamJude every step of the way. Look where it got her friend.

But this wasn’t the time to have her own meltdown. She needed to be strong for Ananya, whose voice & state she was struggling to read presently. Getting her to talk was crucial.

‘Has he called? Has he tried to explain?’

‘He hasn’t called since he left Madrid last weekend. And what’s left to explain in this?’

The article stated specifically that the images had not been tampered with, they had the original & had verified it. There were two eyewitness accounts confirming it too. Who further added that the ‘couple’ were ‘cozy’ and ‘inseparable’ all night. Other than the lip-lock photo, there were a few others of them sitting close to each other in a small group, smiling, having drinks, giggling. The over-familiarity all too visible. This was more than the usual Jude friendliness, no one could convince Ananya otherwise. Not even Jude.

There was nothing left to clarify. Maybe he didn’t even feel the need to. The fact that there wasn’t even a peep from him yet was maybe his way of sending a message. That whatever ‘arrangement’ they had, it was over.

Roma had no logical counter to this, but some instinct was telling her to hear Jude’s side of the story. That is, if he had a side to share and if he had any interest in sharing it. Sadly, Ananya’s reading of it was very much a possibility. Roma had to admit that Jude was capable of it. He moved on quickly from his arrangements, without much care for who or what was left behind. Somehow though, she was convinced that he was different with Ananya. Their interactions over the last 2 months further solidified her belief that Jude genuinely cared for Ananya. How could both of them read him so wrong? Something about it was not sitting right, but the lip-lock photo was staring her in the face. How could she deny that? How could she give any false hope to her friend, when she had already caused her so much pain?

Her friend may not have been showing that pain explicitly, but Roma knew Ananya was falling back on the veneer of logic & practicality in order to hide her vulnerability & heartbreak. The shield was up, guarding her from further hurt.

‘Why didn’t you stop me, Roma? These silly fairytales never work, they always end this way. Why didn’t you tell me he was out of my league?’

‘He is not out of your league. YOU ARE OUT OF HIS LEAGUE. If all he wants to do is fuck those dumb bimbos who run after him 24*7 then to hell with him.’

‘See, you’re doing it again.’

‘I am telling you PLAIN FACTS ANANYA. He was not the catch in this one, YOU ARE.’

Ananya laughed a deeply broken laugh. And Roma wished if she could somehow teleport and be with her friend right now. Her being all alone in that apartment and in Madrid had come at the worst time.

‘He could have at least told me himself. I deserved that much, no?’

Roma fought the urge to curse the living daylights out of that bastard. But something was telling her that despite all this, Ananya still won’t like that.

‘You deserved a lot more. You deserve a lot better than that asshole.’

‘I…wait what time is it in the US right now? Must be way past midnight right?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’

‘Go to sleep, Roma.’

‘Rubbish. Talk to me. I’m not leaving you alone.’

‘Actually I kinda want to be alone. You know that’s how I process things.’

‘But…’

‘I’d be here when you wake up. Won’t do something stupid, if that’s what you are worried about.’

‘I don’t like how put together you sound.’

Ananya laughed that distant laugh again. It sounded so bitter and unpleasant to Roma, she never wanted to hear that sound again.

‘Want me to bawl my eyes out? That would be a natural & healthy reaction?’

‘Yes. That’s how I’d know it has hit you.’

Roma responded without missing a beat. She knew Ananya had this internal way of dealing with things but even then this felt messed up.

Ananya didn’t know how to articulate to her friend anymore. The tears were just not coming. The absolute sense of distraughtness and betrayal she should feel right now was just not happening. Maybe, maybe, a part of her always knew this would happen & was prepared for this? Maybe that’s why she was being able to disassociate herself from the situation and look at it so dispassionately?

‘Go to sleep Roma. You’ve been up all night. And remember - don’t contact him at all. No message, no call, just nothing. Don’t say anything to him. Maybe he’s even blocked us by now.’

It was part of his modus operandi. Ananya won’t be surprised.

Roma could see what Ananya was doing. The hurt was making her think of the worst and be prepared for it so even if that happens it doesn’t hurt her further. And Roma couldn’t blame her for acting this way. Because the pictures were damning, as were the eyewitness accounts.

She hated herself for pushing Ananya into his arms. The first date, her hesitation before she slept with him, all of that was dancing in Roma’s head, making her feel responsible for the hot mess her friend was in. Despite being aware of her emotionally fragile state and baggage from her previous relationship, Roma had still urged her to give it a go. Because she herself would have given it a go. But Roma should have thought of what was best for Ananya and not how she would respond to such a situation. She had failed as a friend, and Ananya was paying the worst possible price.

‘I’m so sorry babe. I really am.’

‘Stop that right now. You didn’t know him.’

‘I should have known.’

‘Hindsight is a bitch, ok? And guess what - I actually did know this is how he was. Because he told me. In his own words. With examples. But I still somehow convinced myself that I’d be the girl he’d change himself for. How delusional of me. Men like that don’t change, not really, I should have known. If anything, it’s my fault for still going ahead with it despite knowing everything about him.’

‘How about saying IT’S HIS FAULT? Coz that’s the only fucking thing that’s absolutely undeniable.’

‘Sure.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Look we can say whatever. But he’s not the one getting hurt. Maybe he’s still with…with her….right now. Having the time of his life. The only one responsible for my decisions is me. Can’t expect anyone else to make those calls or hold my hand through those. Especially when I knew everything about him. So you can say whatever and blame whoever but it was my decision and I have to live with it. That’s how it is in life. Ultimately you are on your own.’

‘You’re scaring the shit out of me Ananya. You’re not sounding ok.’

‘Actually I’m quite ok. Thinking clearly & straight. Maybe should have done that earlier but it is what it is. Now go, we’ll speak in a few hours. Don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl, I can handle this.’

Roma had no doubt that Ananya was strong when she needed to be. But there is a time to be strong and a time to have a complete meltdown. She should be having a meltdown right now and not vice versa. But, the best Roma could do in this situation was to be there in whatever approach her friend took.

‘I know you can. I know you will. Talk to you in a few hours, yeah?’

‘Yes. Bye.’

‘Bye babe.’

When Ananya hung up, she didn’t know what to do with herself the next second. Looking at her phone anymore made her pukish. Staying away from it made her anxious. Watching something on OTT or just lying in bed made her dizzy.

Other than Roma, no one else close to her knew about Jude. And she didn’t want to bother her friend beyond a point either. Roma was meeting Chris after 6 long months and it was Christmas for crying out loud. Why ruin it for others just because her life was fucked up right now.

There was no one else to talk to. Which, in hindsight, was a silver lining. No one else would know what a royal fool she had made of herself. She could almost picture her cousin scoffing at her for trying to be in a ‘relationship’ with a playboy footballer who claimed to want to change for her. That only happened in rom-coms, not in real life. Thing is, she knew that. Very well. But still could not resist him. Solely her fault.

The face of that girl kept flashing in front of her eyes - Ananya couldn’t get her out of her head.

Then she did something she wasn’t proud of. That she absolutely should not have done. In a weak moment, she found that girl’s Insta and went through her pics.

She was stunningly beautiful. Perfect features. Perfect figure. Perfect hair. Perfect style. Gorgeous from head to toe. The kind of girl who would look perfect on Jude’s arm. The kind of girl Jude would want to show off to the world. Definitely the kind of girl he’d love to take to bed. Given their history and the fact they were on/off for ~2 years or so, they would have explored pretty much everything intimate together. She would have satisfied Jude in ways Ananya couldn’t even imagine.

It made sense for Jude to want to be with her. To go back to her. It was logical.

Why was it making Ananya’s head spin then?

She couldn’t be alone with her thoughts, not right now. Even roaming the streets in this chilly winter morning was an acceptable alternative. At least it would numb her, in more ways than one. And she set out to do just that.

Unaware of the absolute carnage he had caused, Jude was passed out in his bed. His team had obviously seen the article and images, as had his parents. The strategy was going to be no comment, as always; it would die down in a few days or a few weeks, as was the norm.

Denise knew Jude had returned in the early hours of the morning and no good would come from speaking to him at this time. So no one had bothered to wake him up. His phone was burning up with messages from friends and teammates, but he was too deep in his drunken stupor.

No one in his close circle knew why this would be catastrophic for Jude or unlike any previous tabloid pieces on him. No one other than Jobe.

When Jobe woke up around 9:30 am, from the constant notifications, he stared at his phone in disbelief. Then, he ran to Jude.

Not bothering to knock or anything, he breezed past his brother’s bedroom door to find him face down on the bed. Drooling in his sleep. The clothes & shoes from last night thrown around the room.

Jobe shook his arm. No response.

Then he shook him harder. Jude whined loudly.

‘Go away.’

‘Stop being a brat & wake the fuck up. Right now.’

That got Jude’s attention. Because Jobe rarely took that tone with him.

Rubbing his eyes, still half disoriented, he sat up on the bed.

‘What is it?’

Jobe just threw his phone in Jude’s lap.

And the colour drained from Jude’s face. In real time.

Frozen, wide-eyed, he stared at the photo on the screen. A million thoughts scrambling in his head yet not a single coherent one coming out.

‘Shit. No no no GOD NO.’

Jude looked up desperately at his brother, who was looking back intently with his arms crossed, trying to get a read on him.

‘See the rest of it.’

Jobe said plainly; his tone cutting through Jude’s mumbling sounds.

When Jude did, he almost wished he hadn’t. Every image, every caption more damning than the other. He could see what it looked like. And nothing was as stark as that ‘lip-lock’ thing.

The denial and shock made way to sudden rage at this massive invasion of privacy.

‘It was a fucking private club that charged buttloads for being so. Who the fuck even took these?’

‘So it’s true then?’

Jobe’s posture was neutral, but Jude saw the irritation in his tone.

‘NO. I mean, not all of it. Its….its not what it looks like.’

‘Cut the bullshit & tell me straight. Did something happen with her last night?’

Shoulders dropped in defeat, Jude covered his face with both his hands. Jobe knew him the best. And if even he had to ask this, what hope could he have with her?

‘It’s not what it looks like.’

Jude whispered, almost to himself, swaying from side to side.

Jobe eyed him for a few moments. It didn’t feel like his brother was lying, but he was guilty about something.

‘How would I get her to believe me, Jobe?’

He was still hiding beneath his hands. Hoping for this new reality to just vanish.

‘Do you want to?’

Jude grabbed his hand and pulled his brother down to sit close to him. Then, he flung himself at Jobe and Jobe’s arms came around his shoulders, hugging him back.

‘Please, not you too. You gotta believe me, please.’

‘I’m not the one you need to convince bro.’

Jude looked up at him then, with such hope & nerves that it tugged at Jobe’s heart.

‘I need to know this. Do you believe me?’

A long pause.

‘Yes.’

Jude went back into Jobe’s arms, as the younger boy patted his brother’s back gently.

‘Talk to her. Tell her everything.’

Jobe hadn’t understood what the ‘everything’ was but looking at Jude, he could tell there was more than meets the eye. His brother seemed to have fucked up somehow, just not as much as it looked like.

Jude kept his head buried in Jobe’s chest. He couldn’t seem to catch a break. This couldn’t have come at a worst time. Just when she was starting to….

‘Can you check my phone? See if there’s anything from her?’

He was too anxious to check himself, like there was some finality to it.

‘There’s nothing.’

Somehow, that was even worse.

‘Maybe she hasn’t seen it yet. It’s what, 11 am in Madrid?'

‘She has. I can feel that she has.’

‘Call her then.’

Jude’s fingers hovered over the call button, and finally Jobe clicked it for him.

It rang once. No response. They tried again. No response. One more time. Same result.

‘She’s got a roommate no? Call her maybe?’

Jude knew that if they had talked, then he won’t get a different response from Roma. He’d probably get a worse response in fact.

But he was desperate. So he tried it. Two full rings, nothing.

Then it hit him. During one of the movie nights at Ananya’s place, Roma had mentioned about her Christmas plans. One quick look at her Insta and Jude knew she was back in the US. She had been there all week.

So Ananya was alone in Madrid? All this week? That sucked big time. And he didn’t even realise that. Until now.

He looked at Jobe in despair.

‘Text her. Leave her a voice note. You can’t not do anything.’

When Jude opened his chat window with her, he realised that was all he had done all week. Just texts & voice notes. Brief. Hurried. But there was no time to kick himself. Time was of utmost essence right now.

‘Trying to reach you, dove. Pls call me back.’

Then he went back to staring at his phone, willing her to respond, while Jobe walked around the room, thinking what else could be done here.

One full hour passed. And Jude’s heart sank further with each minute.

Meanwhile, Ananya was taking a long walk on the Madrid streets in the mind-numbing cold. When the chill got too much to handle, she went to a nearby mall and sat at a coffee shop. Initially, the hustle & bustle around her was a welcome distraction. But soon it became unbearable. Happy families, cheerful friends and loving couples. While she didn’t have anyone right now. Their happiness was mocking her. So she took the long walk back home, delaying reaching that place to the extent possible.

Once inside, where she could feel her fingers again, she pulled out her phone & found 3 missed calls + three messages from her supposed boyfriend.

Boyfriend. Yeah right.

She read the first message and scoffed at the nick-name.

The next one had come 15 mins after the first.

‘Missing you. Pls talk to me.’

She scoffed harder at the ‘missing’ part. Last week was surely a unique way of missing her. She looked at the last message finally.

‘Baby I’m worried now. Need to hear your voice.’

This charade needed to end. She needed to rip off this band-aid. Maybe it would even give her some clarity?

Ananya stood in front of the mirror and took a long hard look at herself. She still hadn’t cried yet. Not a single tear. She didn’t know why.

Maybe because she had been an emotional wreck in her last relationship. So much that she couldn’t even recognise herself at times. That had not done anyone any good. She had vowed to be different in this one. To be the voice of reason & logic, not some sobbing little sap.

Was it really not normal? Was Roma right? She didn’t know, but at least this steeled up state put her in a decent space to talk to him and get it over with. To see what kind of story he would concoct. At least she won’t be a mess in front of him. She won’t give him the satisfaction of breaking her.

Just then, her phone flashed with a video call from Jude. She disconnected it & dialled him on audio. Jude nearly dropped the phone when she called back - with relief and with nerves.

‘Oh thank god. I was starting to get worried.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Let me see you, dove? Let’s face-time?’

‘I think this is fine.’

Awkward silence ensued. Ananya had no intention of helping him or giving him any segue. The least he could do was man up and have the balls to admit what he did. She waited for him to get there.

Her aloofness was confirmation enough. She had seen everything. Read everything. Suddenly Jude was at a loss for words. So he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

‘It’s not what it looks like.’

And there it was.

‘The photos are doctored?’

‘No, but..’

‘The kiss didn’t happen?

‘It did, but…’

‘Did you sleep with her?’

‘WHAT?’

‘What part of that did you not understand? Did you spend last night with her? Are you still in her bed or on your way back?’

The sheer lack of emotion in her tone made her sound so cold. Distant. It hit him like a whiplash.

Jude had heard a similar voice before, when the earlier tabloid piece had come out. But this was 10x of that. This was his Ananya but not really. It’s like she had locked her emotions away, only letting her brain come to the fore.

‘I’m home, babe.’

‘Oh. Didn’t have a morning tumble then? Thought you really liked those.’

Jude shut his eyes tightly, and ran his spare hand through his hair. Absolutely losing handle on the conversation.

‘Please I’m begging you pls just hear me out ONCE. Please.’

He heard a sharp intake of breath at the other end. A decision had been reached.

‘Fine.’

‘We bumped into each other at a private club yesterday. Hadn’t seen each other in over 2 years so just got talking. Remember, we were friends before we started dating, yeah? She was mostly talking about football and how great it was to see my journey. Then we spoke about some school mates and what they were up to right now. Shared a laugh or two about them. That’s what you see in the other photos. It wasn’t some personal conversation about her & I or our time together. We didn’t go there, I swear.’

‘And yet you magically kissed after that? How amusing.’

Jude sighed deeply. This next part would be a lot harder to navigate, he knew that already.

‘We were drunk. Out of our wits. The lads wanted to go to another club so when we were pushing off, I leaned in to greet her and….kiss her goodbye….on her cheek. In hindsight should not have done that either but hindsight is a bitch. She….she turned her face at the last moment and…it turned into a proper kiss. But I swear I pulled away immediately.’

Ananya laughed that bitter laugh, the one Roma had heard a few hours ago. It turned Jude’s hands cold.

‘So she came on to you? That’s the line you’re taking?’

‘Well that or she was drunk & it was an accident for her too.’

‘I see. Which one do you think it was? Accident or she wanted to kiss you?’

The cold hands suddenly were clammy now.

‘I…I don’t know.’

“Do me a favour & take a guess.’

He knew she could sense the guilt in his voice, hence was doubling down. In a different situation he was capable of straight up lying & getting away. But with her he just couldn’t.

‘I-I think I may have… led her on. It may have looked more to her than what it was.’

Zero response from the other end. Just the sound of her breathing. He took it as a cue to continue.

‘Given our history…and familiarity…our proximity may have given her the impression that I was….interested.’

‘That, and the coziness and the inseparability, yeah?’

‘Don’t believe the tabloid captions, babe. You know what they are like.’

‘I’m gonna believe my eyes. I saw how you were with her. In every photo, not just THAT one.’

‘I swear I didn’t…’

She cut him off, having heard enough of his swears.

‘Why didn’t you tell me immediately? Why didn’t I hear this from you?’

‘It was late. I was drunk. Wasn’t thinking straight. Was still trying to understand what the fuck just happened.’

‘And you didn’t know there was going to be any evidence of it.’

Long pregnant pause. Then a small choked voice.

‘Yes.’

‘Hmm. So your intentions were all holy & pure but she misunderstood them somehow and came on to you and kissed you. And it only happened ONCE but somehow in just that ONE moment there was someone to capture that clear photo. Then you went your separate ways yet you didn’t bother to tell your current girlfriend that this gigantic thing happened with your ex-girlfriend. And now you feel you may have led her on inadvertently. That sums it up?’

‘I know how it sounds. I know how it would have looked to you but baby please trust me I didn’t want anything with her. Not for a second.’

‘So you say.’

‘My friends were with me all night. I can get any of them to talk to you.’

‘As if they haven’t lied for you or covered for you before.’

They had. Many times. Jude had no counter to this.

His desperation was at its peak now. He could feel her slipping away. Rapidly.

‘You know what you mean to me. In your heart you know how precious you are to me. Why would I intentionally do anything to screw that up?’

She scoffed so derisively it cut through his soul.

‘Precious? Sure. That’s why you forgot about me all week, as soon as I was out of sight. And someone else was in sight.’

That was one thought Ananya couldn’t shake. That it wasn’t the only time they had met. Maybe the reason he was so MIA this week was because of that girl.

Jude was distraught. She was landing punch after punch. Every word piercing, laden with truth. And he had no defence to any of it.

‘Why are you talking to me like this? Like you don’t…care anymore. Like it doesn’t matter anymore. Like you’ve already decided I’m guilty and…and…whatever I say makes no difference.’

She refused to humour that with a response. It was self-explanatory according to her.

‘Don’t do this. Please I’m scared. Don’t pull away like this. I don’t know what to do, dove. You know me. You’ve always understood me. Pls one more time, pls try to understand.’

Understanding him was all she had done since she met him. His ways, his lifestyle, his schedules, his highs & lows, his moods, his past.

But not only had he made a mickey out of her feelings, he was also insulting her intelligence now by cooking up this convenient story. That was a double whammy she refused to take.

Her silence was making his pulse go a million miles per second.

He needed her back, right fucking now.

‘Look, once I am back there in a few days it will be fine, ok? We’ll meet and we’ll be together and you’ll realise it was all a big misunderstanding. Can’t wait to have you in my arms.’

She had no interest in being subjected to his seductive charm or manipulative ways again. Just so he could reel her back in.

‘I won’t be here when you return.’

‘Wh-what does that mean?’

‘I have moved up my trip to India, leaving in 2 days.’

‘Whyy? When did you…when are you back?’

‘Don’t know yet.’

‘What about work?’

‘Work from home is allowed under special circumstances. I’ll think of something.’

‘So you’re just going to walk out?’

‘Some distance wouldn’t hurt.’

‘Distance from me?’

‘From everything. But yes, mostly from you.’

That was a bodyblow which made him nearly tumble over in pain and hurt. Disorienting him to the point he didn’t know what he was saying anymore.

‘So you’ll run at the first sign of trouble? Not gonna fight for us? I thought you hated your ex for doing that.’

Boy, was that a low blow. She was fuming. If he were near she could have strangled him with her bare hands. After everything he had done, everything they had been through, every time she had given him the benefit of the doubt, the bastard had the audacity to say first sign of trouble? ‘First’? Like it was her fault they were in this mess. Like she was the one who had cheated.

But why was she surprised? Jude was like any other man, clearly. It was always the girl’s fault. Always.

She won’t give him the satisfaction to get a reaction out of her anymore. He didn’t even deserve her anger.

After a few deep breaths and the burning sting of her nails in her thighs, she recovered.

‘You’re right. I’m the one to blame here.’

‘Can you GET OFF YOUR HIGH HORSE FOR ONE FUCKING MINUTE and talk like a real person? A person with feelings other than sarcasm?’

Her patience reached its limits.

‘I think we’ve hurt each other enough, yeah? Let’s call it a day.’

‘Are you for real right now?’

‘Are you?’

‘Waittt. Please wait. Pls this can’t be happening. It’s ME. It’s US. How could you walk away from us?’

‘Bye Jude.’

‘NO. NO. Dove please just…’

Her resolve was fast breaking, as was her voice. Despite everything, she couldn’t see him in pain. Not like this.

‘Have a good…good one Jude.’

With that, she hung up.

And all the pent up emotion came flooding out of her eyes.

She cried and cried, falling face down on the bed, clutching the phone to her chest, trying to remember the sound of his voice, because maybe, maybe, this was the last time she had heard it.

Every inch of this house was filled with his memories.

The dining table was where they had their first kiss. The couch had been the place for endless cuddles, cozy dinners and movie nights. The kitchen is where he usually followed her into, as she tried to wrap up some chores or fix them a snack.

Her bedroom was the worst. So many nights cuddled up together, when he came to her post matches or out of city travels. Their first time had also happened here. The desk, the walls just reminded her of the countless times he had backed her against those.

The place smelled of him. She could almost see his face anywhere she looked.

And she ran. To the first decent escape she could find - a movie hall. A random Spanish language movie was playing, but at least she wasn’t in a place that felt like a graveyard of his memories.

She had sworn to herself to not break this time. No, she will be strong through all this. She will not be a weeping mess. She will not let her heart knock her down, not again.

She had been through this once, she was equipped to handle this.

Jude, on the other hand, had no idea what hit him.

This kind of pain he was not familiar with. When you have no control over your life, and your happiness / sanity is entirely in another person’s hands. The sheer helplessness of it completely caught him off guard.

Why did it have to happen now? Just when he was truly giving it a shot. When she was starting to open up to him. Why now?

He wasn’t even sure what exactly had happened, given how quickly things transpired and boiled up.

Jobe came to check on him a few minutes later and found him sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed. He was quiet, far too quiet for Jobe’s liking.

He sat down next to his big brother, and put an arm around his shoulder. Jude leaned into his touch immediately, leaving his body loose against Jobe’s.

‘Didn’t go well?’

Jobe asked softly.

‘It was horrible. Nasty.’

Jude managed to utter, almost mumbling to himself.

‘Tell me what happened.’

Jude gave a summary and Jobe sighed through it. Once done, Jude looked at his little brother for some suggestion. Or some words of comfort. Or both.

But Jobe’s face was telling him what he needed to know. What he knew already.

‘It’s fucked up, isn’t it?’

‘It is bad bro, not gonna lie. But, maybe, give her some time and it’d get better?’

Jude kept shaking his head, staring into a void.

Ten mins passed by and Jude sat like that. Without saying another word. Just leaning into Jobe.

This was new territory for Jobe as well. He had seen Jude through a ton of lows, mostly professional, but Jude took those to heart as well so they turned personal for him.

But the thing with Jude was, he was always expressive. Emotional. Animated. Wearing his heart on his sleeve. Whether he was angry or upset or sad he would still express his emotion passionately.

It was very rare for Jude to get this quiet. The last time he’d been like this was when Dortmund lost the league on the last match-day. Jobe could tell how dire this was for him.

He pulled out his phone slowly and opened his chat window with Ananya. The pair had actually exchanged a few messages this week. Random stuff - books, shows etc.

But what could he say to her? Was it his place to intervene? He had only met her like 9 days ago. Only spent a few hours with her. Would it make things worse if he says anything?

Something in his gut was telling him to still do it, and Jobe believed in following his instinct.

‘Hey. Hope you’re doing ok.’

A few seconds later, he could see her typing back.

‘Hey.’

‘I’m sorry for butting in, I really am, but for what it’s worth I don’t think he’s lying.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I’ve never seen him like this. Ever.’

‘Were you with him last night?’

‘No.’

‘Then you can’t say for sure.’

‘I know it. I can tell.’

‘You love him, Jobe. He’s your brother. I get it that you’d believe him. But I hope you can see why I can’t.’

Jobe didn’t know what to say beyond this. The writing was on the wall. Loud & clear.

Jude was still zonked out. This had gone beyond Jobe’s handling power. He needed the big gun here.

Denise got Jobe’s message and came into the room, finding both her boys sitting on the floor. Air filled with doom & gloom.

Alarmed, she rushed to them and Jobe stood up, letting Denise take his place next to Jude.

Jude immediately melted in Denise’s arms, placing his head on her lap.

She patted him gently, rocking him a little while Jobe filled her in about Ananya.

Denise wasn’t surprised; she had known all along something was different with Jude last few weeks. She had even hinted it to him once or twice but eventually let it be, thinking he’d come tell her when he’s ready. If he’s ready. But she didn’t know it was something deep. Something this deep.

Jude’s face and silence was telling her all she needed to know. About how much that girl meant to her boy.

She ran her hand through his hair, and stroked his shoulder with the other hand. Jude sighed in her lap, near tears. The moment reminded her of how Jude had cried while leaving Birmingham City 3.5 years also. Even then he had been on the floor, while she tried to console her 17 year old who was moving away from home forever.

‘Do you want to make this right, Jude?’

Her tone was loving, but not overly so. Because she knew how heartbroken that girl would be at the other end, far worse than her son. And her son needed to learn that actions have consequences, especially in matters of the heart.

Jude whimpered out a response.

‘Ofcourse, mum. I need her. What do I do?’

‘If you truly want to be with her, then you’d know what to do. Think what she would want you to do right now.’

And instantly, it hit Jude.

Ananya returned late in the evening, and was just taking off her coat, when she heard her doorbell.

Thinking it must be some neighbourhood folks coming to offer her Christmas pudding, AGAIN, she dragged herself to the door.

And found him on the other side. The man of her dreams. The cause of her nightmares. Jude fucking Bellingham was standing at her door, with a bouquet of white tulips in his hand.

...........................................................................................

There you go.

I broke the original idea of the chapter into two - Ch 16 and 17.

Else it was becoming a very long & emotionally draining one chapter.

This should give you more clarity.

As always, would love to hear your thoughts / comments / messages.

#jude bellingham #real madrid #bellingham #jude #jb5 #jb #jude bellingham smut #jude fanfic #bellingham x reader #star crossed lovers #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #desi girl #jude bellingham angst #jude fic #jobe bellingham

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iamasimperyk · 10 months ago

Note

A good fic idea maybe his ex wife comes over and the reader is over and the wife goes crazy saying that her and rafe are talking again or spent the night together and he’s not home so she leaves because she doesn’t want to start anything so rafe has to find the reader

Sorry that I couldn’t work on your request earlier but I hope you still like what I made out of it!💕

Crazy Ex -Rafe Cameron

Warnings: Manipulation, naive reader, angst, assumption of cheating, English is not my first language, not proof read

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

You have never had a problem with the fact that Rafe had already been married once. You met him at work, and the two of you immediately had some kind of connection. You were the complete opposite of his ex-wife, maybe that was what drew him towards you.

After months of talking, you two got into a relationship, and you were nothing but happy. Rafe loved you, and you loved him, it was like a fairytale.

But in every fairytale, there was a villain, and the villain in your story was Rafe's ex-wife. She tried to get him back on multiple occasions, but Rafe just turned her down.

Today, Rafe was on a business trip, leaving you alone at Tannyhill. Exhausted, you lay on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around your body as you watched one of your favorite movies.

You let out a yawn when the doorbell suddenly rang. With a small frown, you stood up, walking to the front door before you carefully opened it.

There she was. Rafe's ex-wife. 5'7 feet tall, platin blonde hair, curves at the right place, expensive clothes, and an annoyed look on her face. You looked down at yourself, wrapping the blanket tighter around your body, suddenly feeling insecure about your own appearance.

"Well, hello," She smirked down at you, "I see, Rafe, still didn't get rid of you."

You slightly gulped, "Rafe is not here. He is in Tennessee."

"Well, that's what he told you, but what if I tell you that we started talking again." Her smirk was even bigger than before.

"He would never do that. We both know that." You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Why don't you take a look at his location, sweetie?" She told you.

Immediately, you started chewing on your lower lip, a thing you always did when you were nervous. You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw his location. He was at hers.

"Told you. Why don't you start packing your shit? I will move in again in a few days." She hissed, walking towards her car before she drove off.

After a small breakdown at the front door, you packed your most important stuff and left.

You didn't even text Rafe. You just wanted to be alone and at peace.

----

The next day Rafe came home.

"Y/n, I am back." He smiled, waiting for you to run downstairs, but you never did. He started to shout your name again and again until he finally realized you were gone.

Quickly, he called you, but you didn't pick up. After he sent you hundreds of messages, he thought about checking your location.

Your parents' house. Of course.

He ran to his car and drove to their house.

Your mom opened the door, wanting to shut it as soon as she saw him, "Y/m/n, please, I need to talk to her." He pleaded, still not knowing what he did wrong.

"But she doesn't want to talk to you." Your mother replied angrily.

After a few seconds of silence, you appeared behind her, "It's okay, Mom."

"Are you sure?" She asked, her eyes not leaving Rafe.

You gave her a small nod, and she disappeared into the living room.

"Why didn't you answer my calls?" He asked desperately.

"Because I didn't wanna talk to you." You simply answered.

Rafe looked at you, taking a step closer, "What did I do?"

"You lied to me about your trip to Tennessee." You mumbled.

He quickly shook his head, "No, why would you say this?"

"Oh, please, I saw your location. You were at your ex-wife's." You started to fiddle with your fingers.

Rafe's eyes widen, "You have to believe me when I tell you I never was there after we divorced."

"I saw it with my own eyes. She came when you were gone and-" You started, but Rafe was quick to interrupt you.

"She came when I was gone? Just to tell you that I am at her place?" He asked, and you just nodded.

"Don't you hear how ridiculous that sounds?" He sighed, and you finally started to think about the situation.

"B-but she-" You started but couldn't find the right words.

"I don't know how she faked my location, but I promise I never lied to you. I love you." He smiled a little, wrapping his arms around you.

"I am so stupid. I am sorry." You mumbled, feeling extremely guilty to believe his manipulative ex-wife.

"It's okay, just don't run away the next time she tells you shit." He chuckled.

"Promise," You kissed him, "Oh, and I have to make sure my parents won‘t kill you.“

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #obx #outer banks #outer banks x you #outer banks x y/n #outer banks x reader #outerbanks rafe #angst #request🩵

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volturiprincess · 7 months ago

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Hey,

could you do something like the mate is not interested in any romance things and the Volturi are really romantic with them

Hello dear💙, sorry for the wait. I might of did some small changes but I still stayed on topic. I also did a combination of short one-shots and headcanon's. I was going to add Jane but I was not sure what to do for her. Hope you enjoy🫶🏼.

Mate Who Doesn't Enjoy Romantic Gentures

Warnings: language, mentions of violence (Demetri), I might of put Demetri on the spotlight (not in a good way, again I apologize, love him😅)

Caius:

Hmmm, odd, it's cloudy and perfect for a walk with my mate and yet he is nowhere to be seen. Well I guess I will have a walk on my own. As i'm walking through the long halls, I soon feel a familiar presence on my side

“You know I don't like it when you do that”

“I know and yet you never get mad”

We walked to the gardens in silence, something about the gardens with this type or weather just makes me feel relaxed. As we arrived I felt the cold breeze of the air weave through me. As if on cue he grabbed my hand and interlocked our hands. I pulled my hand away, not that I don't mind hand holding, but I don't want this to turn romantic.

“Do I disgust you or something?”

Oh no my love, I sided eyed him while he stared at me.

“No it's not that Cai, it's just I don't want our outing to get–um…”

“Spit it out love, no need to beat around the bush”

“I just don't want this to turn romantic okay”

“Oh? Why?”

“I just want a nice quiet evening with you”

“Mmmm”

I went over to the rose arch that I caught myself spending hours admiring each and every one. I was so focused that I didn't notice the fairy lights and the beautiful sight of my mate holding a rose out to me. I just stared at him with a blank face. What should I do? I already told him countless times that I don't like to be romanticized. But he looks so perfect right now, and the small lights make his eyes sparkle in the softest ways possible. So much for being the ruthless king, he still knows how to make a simple day feel like a chapter out of a fairytale.

I walked away and went to another section but he grabbed my hand at the last minute.

“Don't you dare walk away”

“Caius let go”

“Not until you tell me what you want me to do”

“What?”

“Your my mate, you know I love you, and i'm trying to be affectionate with you, but you are giving me nothing to work with”

He makes a point, the countless expensive jewelry, the bouquets and the most romantic trips one can only dream about. I always faked a smile when he makes such gestures, not that I don't appreciate his effort but I just don't like to be wooed like that.

“Caius? You know I love you, right?”

“Well you make it seem I'm underappreciated”

“I'm sorry I have made you feel like that, that has never been my intention, but I have told you before I just don't like romantic gestures like that”

“You have but what I don't understand is what you actually want me to do”

“One of my favorite things about you is when you and I talk about anything, whether it be about history, the arts that lead to debates, I just love talking with you, I guess you can say that’s the most romantic thing you could do for me, talk”

“So let me guess this right, talking is the way to your heart?”

“I guess you can say that, my love language is talking about what others would considered ‘boring’ “

“I see, I can do that, I actually enjoy are times of talk”

He gave me a small smile and pulled me into a small hug that I returned.

Felix:

Oh no, another box of roses with chocolates. And is that a note I spot? I read the note first

“My little rose, my little love, you have my heart”

Wow, I'm speechless. He always does this, I mean I appreciate what he does but I don't even know how to take this in. Don't get me wrong, I love how cute he is when he sends me stuff like this but I don't really like gestures like this. Even if I don't like this kind of stuff, I like how when I see him later on in the day he has a cheeky smile and casually asks if anything interesting happened today (as if he doesn't already know). It's his smile that warms my heart. I might not like all his romantic gestures, but his smile is all I need in my life.

Or seeing him workout and or training newborns, there's just something so satisfying yet weirdly angelic in the way he moves. Yes he's a big guy, with muscle that can crush your head instantle, and has the title of ‘the executor’, but he moves with grace in a way. When he's throwing a newborn across the room, he does it accordingly and swiftly, it's not awkward or hesitant. I know he’s been doing this for centuries but at this point it really is like second nature to him.

I placed the boxes on our coffee table and lay in bed, waiting for him to return from some meeting the guards had today. Soon enough he arrived with that mentioned cheeky smile and something behind his back. I raise an eyebrow at his mysterious behavior but he just sits on the edge of the bed gazing at me like I'm the only girl in the world.

“Soooo I see you got the gifts?”

“I did” “You like them?”

Such a darling of a mate and I have to break his unbeaten heart by saying I don't. I honestly don't deserve him. He deserves someone who treats his acts of love with the same type of love, but romantic gestures don't sit straight with me with all honesty.

“I…” I twiddle my fingers in a nervous way “didn’t”

I hesitantly look at him to be faced with a dropped face, his smile gone and his eyebrows furrowed.

“You didn’t? Did I do something wrong? What is it that you don't like, it's the roses right? Gosh I knew you didn't like roses, I told Demetri you didn't but he insisted you did and the chocolates well I know you liked them you enjoy eating them in your time of the month and you eat it on a daily basis so I just thought it would work and well-”

I grabbed his hand to give it a small squeeze and well to stop his cute rambling session that made me feel guilty. He looked at me with soft eyes as I reassured him

“Felix honey, I'm going to have to stop you there, look as cliche as this might sound, its me not you”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well yes I do love roses, not to receive them actually but I could stare at them for hours to see there spirals and to draw them too, as for the chocolates I love that too, you always know which one’s I like the most but I just don't like romantic gestures”

“You don't? Well why didn't you tell me, you know I would hate to make you feel obligated to accept my gestures or to make you uncomfortable” I really don't deserve him, he's the sweetest of the sweetest.

“I know I should of said something sooner but the thing I loved to see was your cheeky smile, the way you would smile more on the days you would leave a gift or be romantic would just make my day”

“You like my smile? Well that's something I don't hear everyday”

I felt my heart break slightly at his confession, centuries of not experiencing love and not receiving compliments on something he wears so well. I gave his hand a small kiss that he returned with his said smile.

“I'm sorry I didn't say I don't like romantic gestures, they never sat straight with me and believe me in another lifetime I would loved to be serenaded by your gestures”

“I know little rose, but what would like for me to do for you then or what are you comfortable with”

“Well never stop smiling that's for sure” his smile widen slightly at the mention “But my version of romantic is when you ramble to me about your day, how a certain newborn was a pain in the ass to you or how Demetri somehow managed to lose his footing during combat training, your absolutely a darling of mate when you ramble, one of the hundreds of reasons I love you”

“You never fail to amuse me with your words, my little love, I will take what you said to me and put into action for you, but could I, you know, maybe just give you a single rose then, maybe one that has a lot of interesting spirals?”

“That’s fine by me Fe”

Demetri:

Hello!!! He's a casanova of a Vampire

Nobody just gets that name, he got it for a reason

When you came into his life, his mission was to show you love in every way

Trips to secluded beaches, to the most romantic cities in the world to even trips to the Volturi’s private island

Those are just trips, the gifts he showered you with would put Eros himself to shame

Rose petals would be around your guy’s shared chamber, with the most expensive wine he could get his hands on and your favorite chocolates (he would do that once a week at least)

You have told him to tone it down a bit, you even mentioned even some fuzzy socks would be fine by you (according to him “Those are hardly romantic enough amore”)

After months of being romanticized in the most extravagant way by him and not really showing much enthusiasm toward his effort, he became conflicted

Is it too much? Has he gone overboard? Talk to him already? He’s freaking out? He’s panicking internally too, oh no his walls are closing in, the world is spinning faster, he can somehow hear his unbeaten heart beating fast, all of this is happening to him and yet he shows no emotions

“Demetri? You good?”

“Fuck off Felix” (Ouch that hurt, why must he be rude to my hunk of a vampire, look at Felix’s sweet face, he does not deserve this type of attitude from his best friend)

Demetri stays in a bad mood for a while, but he sneaks in some sweet talk towards you and manages to leave little homemade gifts for you in places he knows you would find it

And yet none of that seems to work to get you to react ‘appropriately” (his thought)

He thinks you just don't want him or love him the way he loves you

He grows more restful and his hidden sadistic side starts to creep up more often when he's training with Felix

Felix as always worries for a long term best friend, why is he like this? Never in a hundred years have I seen him so hungry to rip a newborn's head? So desperate?

It seems its just got so bad that he finally approached you

“Is it me? Am I the problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well I tried everything I have known about romance and you just brush it off, you don't even genuinely like what I do, you always fake a reaction”

“I guess I was not convincing enough then?”

The way his face feel when you didn't even deny his accusation hurt him more than it needed to be

He was about to make a run for but you grabbed his hand

“I didn't mean to say it like I don't appreciate what you do for me or if I love you, gosh Demetri I love you more than the ocean needs the moon”

That caught him off guard indeed, you love him that much? So then why have you been so weird with him about his gestures?

“I guess I should come clean, but I haven't really been the type to enjoy romantic gestures, it doesn't fancy my feathers, I should of told you from the beginning but I just didn't know how”

“I see, so it was never me then, oh cariño you should of told me sooner, I would of loved to have a conversation with you about what you like and don't like, we are mates after all, I want you to talk to me about anything that comes into that pretty head of yours”

You confess you actually did like his little homemade crafts, to his paper butterflies, to his pipe cleaner rose, there was nothing romantic about them but it warmed your heart indeed

Alec:

Look when you two became mates, it was a bit strange and a little awkward to be honest

That phase only lasted a week and half because you soon found out he loves to read as much as you

You bonded over books and that's what made your mate bond grow strong

You two didn't really do your typical romantic thing, he didn't get you flowers or gifts or sweet talk you, and you loved that about him

Sure he would casually quote cute lines from your latest read or from your favorite poetry but you were fine by that

Life was fine like that, until Demetri happened (man i'm just picking on him lately, what is my deal with him lately, sorry:)

Demetri has been watching over your guy’s relationship, mostly watches over Alec (Alec remind Demetri of a long forgotten person he knew but he couldnt put his finger on it)

He suggested to Alec to get you flowers, and to recreate some scenes from your books, one them being a little candlelight dinner on a boat with sea themed decor

Alec at the time thought it was a great idea at first until he saw how you slightly cringed (but hid it right away) at the sight of him by the mentioned dinner

He thought maybe he got something wrong and then he started to feel awkward, he started to feel like a foolish teen all over (that was an era of his human life he wanted to forget)

So with Demetris help he got more ideas of other romantic gestures

But the more he did more stuff for you, the more you pulled away from him slowly

You tried to go along with it but you didn't feel comfortable, after each encounter you felt your bond with him shift, there’s awkwardness all over again, as if you were meeting for the first time

It was like this for who knows how long, with apology gifts (all more romantic than the last one) that unfortunately didn't work

So he came up with a better idea he went up to you with Lei of Lotus Blossoms and asked for a minute

“Alec is it what I think it is?”

“Yea just like from the book”

“What are you trying to say”

“Well look you and I are new to this whole bond, we are still figuring things out, but I know one thing for sure is out mate bond was perfect before Demetri meddled in”

“Demetri?”

“He might of given me pointers to woo you”

“I should of known, made sense why you suddenly got all Mr.loverboy”

“Yes well I soon noticed you are not quite fond of that, now are you”

“Your assumption is true”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was unsure in how to tell you without hurting your feelings”

“Cara, I think I can handle the truth, and if I didnt I could of just used my ability on you” he finished that sentence off his devilish smirk that never fails to make you smile

“Wiped that smirk of Alec, now why the Lei?, gifts in our book always had a reason behind it”

“Well from what i learned from this lotus is mostly to represent rebirth or purity but for me it means I want to rewind our bond back to when we were both happy with each other”

“I would like that”

“Me too”

And from there the mate bond was rewinded and everything just clicked like together like a puzzle

#the volturi #the volturi guard #the volturi kings #the volturi coven #the volturi x reader #caius volturi x reader #caius volturi #felix volturi #felix volturi x reader #demetri volturi #demetri volturi x reader #alec volturi #alec volturi x reader #twilight saga #twilight oneshot #twilight headcanons

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letteredlettered · 2 months ago

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Hello!! Firstly, I'd just like to say I've recently discovered your drarry work, and I have been reading your entire catalogue of it for the last week. Pulled all nighters can't stop reading it, reading it. I devoured The Boy Who Lived Twice in one sitting and I couldn't believe how well crafted it was. Blew my mind.

Now, all of this is to say, your prose has this elegant straightforwardness that is so succinct, so clear and so evocative. Your dialogue is absolute *perfection*. What are your influences? Books or authors you feel made an impression on you? I'd love to know what you read, because god I love what you write.

Thank you! I'm so glad you like my fics.

Jane Austen is a huge influence. Whenever my prose feels indistinct and overburdened, I return to her. She says things extremely sharply and cleanly.

Sarah Rees Brennan was a huge influence on me in terms of POV. I tend to write a very tight third person, so tight that the reader can generally see things the viewpoint character cannot. Check out the first book of The Demon's Lexicon series for one of the best examples of this I've read.

I spent a lot of time with Robin McKinley as a kid. I don't think that our styles match very well; she can do an ethereal, fairytale tone that I've kind of given up on. But what I loved best about her was that she could do that tone but then write something incredibly down to earth. I would check out Beauty or Deerskin for my favorite examples of this.

I actually also came into the style I write now writing for Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS) fandom. While most of the stories I wrote in that fandom didn't have very sharp dialogue, I remember writing a story (a WIP still languishing on livejournal, sadly) where I realized I had "found" my voice and style. It was extremely dialogue-heavy. BtVS was famous at the time for its extremely fast-paced, idiosyncratic, snappy dialogue. The dialogue is now considered dated, and the creator is a douche, but imo it's still great writing, especially the early shows. I still go back to it sometimes to figure out a conversation with multiple people, or to work on my humor.

As for authors that have made an impression on me, I'd check out George Eliot. My favorite book is Daniel Deronda. It has wonderful dialogue, especially for an older book. Dickens, Dostoevsky, and Hugo all made pretty big impressions on me as well; I think these big, hefty books with really big ideas really influenced my language, even though I would by no means call my style 19th c.

I'd also check out Rainbow Rowell. I wouldn't say she influenced the style I write with now, because I had it before I read anything by her, but she's one of the few contemporary authors I read and think, "Yeah, I'd write it like that." I think anything by her is a great read that can give you a lot to think about in terms of style.

In my mind, Sally Rooney is a little like Rowell in terms of a cleans style that packs a sharp analysis. I'd call Rowell more comfortable, funny, and genuine, while Rooney is a bit aloof and literary. I actually don't like the stories in her books very much, but I found Conversations with Friends particularly refreshing in terms of writing style.

C.S. Pacat's Captive Prince series also left an impression on me. It has a clean, simple style, with a narrator who doesn't see everything the reader does. And I also did learn a lot from the use of the word "said," in those books--it was something I already knew! and yet.

I think some fanfic that made a big impression on me is The Paradox Series, by wordstrings (Sherlock/John, Sherlock BBC), Spice, by eimeo (Kirk/Spock, Star Trek TOS), Children, Wake Up by hollycomb (Kylo Ren/Hux, Star Wars: The Force Awakens) and Tarnished Gold, by prim_the_amazing (Shen Yuan/Luo Binghe, Scum Villain's Self-Saving System). The styles in these fics vary, but each bowled me over at different points with how beautifully something was articulated or how spectacularly a scene was crafted. I think about Spice all the time in particular.

I'd also say that if you're thinking about dialogue in particular, I also love both Oscar Wilde's and Tom Stoppard's plays.

If you are a writer, I did write a series on writing dialogue. Check out the tag "lettered writes dialogue". The first post is here.

#answer to an ask

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evolnoomym · 3 months ago

Text

I’m your Ghost 🔆

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist | Support me |

Summary: You keep seeing the same guy at a cafe. You want to help him figure out what to do. Help him and yourself to move on.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 0.7 k

Authors note: I scrolled on Pinterest recently, came across this picture and got inspired. I highly recommend listening to “Spring 1 - 2012” by Max Richter and also “Jacob and the Stone” by Emile Mosseri while reading this. 🔆

Warnings: this is angsty, tlou 2 spoilers perhaps, reader has hair, allusions to smut (tell me if I missed anything)

Big thank you to @saradika-graphics @cafekitsune and @xurengu0 for the dividers💛

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. Also this is not beta read or heavily edited. You are always welcome to talk with me about my writing. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly 🫶🏻

He’s always here, the same table, sitting on exactly the same chair, wearing that goddamn green flannel shirt, drinking a black coffee and staring out at the same sunset.

Usually you just sit down somewhere nearby and watch him. Whenever you look closer you can see that his eyes are glassy and his lip is quivering. He’s scared, lost and uncertain of what he should do.

Sometimes you selfishly wish he would just be gone, seeing him again and again hurts. You never approach him, afraid of how he might react. What if he doesn’t remember who you are? What if he evaporates the moment you get too close?

Today though you finally have the courage to talk with him. Of course you wish you could tie his soul to this imaginary fairytale place but he’s not happy and you know what is the right thing to do. So you walk up to his table and even when you stand just an arms length away from him there’s no acknowledgment or anything. He just stares out on to the open water, which shimmers golden in the late afternoon sun and there’s not a cloud in sight. Heavenly.

You sink down into the chair opposite him, that’s when you finally catch his attention. It’s been so long since you’ve seen his beautiful face this close. The golden hues of the sun make him look so angelic, he is your Angel.

Those curls tugged behind his ear, the ones you used to play with whenever he pulled you into his lap. Deep brown orbs that you fell in love with so incredibly quickly. His signature strong curved nose that brought you great pleasure all those times he went down on you. His plush lips, that mustache which always tickled when you kissed him. You loved kissing him, every chance you got your lips were attached to his. Big hands that you can still feel gripping your waist, sliding down your back to squeeze your butt, stroking through your hair and massaging your back when the pain flared up. Joel was utterly perfect in his own unique way.

You must’ve been silently sitting there for minutes so he’s the first to break the silence.

“Why are you cryin princess?”

You didn’t even notice the tears, immediately starting to wipe down your cheeks to get rid of the moisture.

“I miss you Joel,”

Joel Miller, your boyfriend, he’s the one you see here in this little beach side cafe again and again. Every night you go to sleep and wake up here in the cafe.

“, I feel as if I’m going insane.”

He appears confused and smiles.

“You see me every day baby, how can ya miss me?”

Does he not know what happened? Is he pretending to keep you from spiraling by ignoring the obvious?

“Joel, why are you still here?”

“ ‘cause ya need me, Ellie needs me and Tommy needs me.”

Joel’s smile is slowly turning into a frown.

“Who’s gonna take care of Ellie, huh?”

“Ellie has Dina, Tommy is there too and so am I. I know you are worried but we will take care of each other, always.”

You grip his hands that are placed in tight fists on the table. Stroking over the back of his hands like you did whenever he couldn’t calm his racing thoughts.

“Joel, you should go. Believe me I wish you could just stay, but this is not right.”

He’s about to open his mouth to argue when a cheery, light, sweet and girlie giggle fills the room. Joel’s eyes fill with fresh tears, he recognizes the giggle anywhere and so do you. In all those years you got to enjoy with Joel he told you many stories about his first baby, Sarah. How bubbly she was, so full of love and happiness.

“Sarah is waiting for her daddy to come home, don’t make her wait any longer. It’s okay to let go Joel.”

As you say this your hands let go of his and you get up.

“I’ll find you again when it’s time Joel, that’s a promise.”

One last look before you turn and walk away, leaving the man you loved.

You wake up in the bed Joel and you shared, facing his side hand placed where he would lay. The sun is shining in through the window, birds chirps outside and somehow you feel a bit lighter. He’s not entirely gone, you can still feel him here, but he’s not scared anymore. He found his peace and so can you now.

©️ evolnoomym 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

#Joel Miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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2plottwist · 6 months ago

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A Fabled End

Summary: You end up with a magical, impossible to decipher book. Before you know it, you and Astarion are literally sucked into the story, having to play your parts in order to escape. The catch? You have to play star-crossed lovers.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader, referred to with she/her pronouns

Characters: Astarion, various made-up fairytale creatures, super brief Gale and Shadowheart appearance

Warnings: absolute tooth-rotting fluff, the f word (scary!)

Author: Emma:)

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: this is definitely a longer read, but oh my god, do I think it is worth it. This is my favorite thing I have probably ever written. I hope you enjoy it as much as Kenna and I do. (p.s. fan art is appreciated)

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you glanced over the text again. Wyll and Karlach had gone out looking for supplies nearby your camp and had found little to nothing- besides a very large, very magical book. It had been offered to Gale first, who kindly declined to prepare everyone dinner. So it was given to the next best option- you.

After the enormous tiefling plopped it in your hands, you took a second to examine it before revealing its contents. Though it was cast in worn leather, swirls of purple emitted from beneath the cover, beckoning you closer. At first.

Encoding it had been a rather infuriating task. Every time you looked at it, the tangled mess of runes seemed to change, spelling out some ancient, or made-up, language. No matter how hard you concentrated, the meaning eluded you, as if the book was mocking your attempts.

“Why in the hells could Gale not busy himself with this?” you grumble to yourself, pricking up the pointy ears of one of your nearby companions.

“Having a hard time, darling?” Astarion drawled, sauntering towards where you were sitting in front of your tent. “I knew you struggled with finding me good bits of reading, but you appear to be illiterate.”

You rolled your eyes at the words despite the fact that your undead companion was probably right. You'd pored over various dusty tomes for years, but you couldn’t make anything out of the book.

“Hey.. it’s not my fault you don’t appreciate ‘The World According to Bumpo’,” you shot back, referencing the fictitious tale you had brought back to him from the goblin camp. “It’s got layers.. You’ve got to actually use your mind to discover them.”

The vampire let out a dry laugh before lounging on a pillow that was laid against the wall of your tent. “Well, in that case, I guess neither of us know what it’s really about, hmm?”

Though his words were pointed, you recognized the playful lilt of his speech. It was a delicate balance, Astarion’s personality, and you couldn’t tell if it was by design or by accident.

You groaned, dropping the heavy text in between the two of you. “Before you embarrass yourself by belittling me further, why don’t you have a go?” you say, motioning your hand toward the discarded book.

“Hmm,” Astarion considers the proposition, tilting his head and smirking. “Alright. I suppose I have nothing else to do during the precious hours I have to myself.”

He picked up the book, giving it a once-over before carefully flipping through the dry parchment. His brows furrowed, and he muttered something to himself before laughing.

“Oh, this is interesting,” he said casually, as if discussing the weather.

“What? What is?” you ask excitedly, attempting to peer over the cover and see what he was seeing.

“You really are illiterate, aren’t you?” Astarion continued, shooting you a devilish grin. “There’s text right here, as common as drows in the underdark.”

You narrowed your eyes, unable to believe what the elf had just told you. You had stared at the book for so long, the indecipherable runes were practically burnt into your eyes.

“What does it say?” you ask, tilting your head.

“Hmm, well,” Astarion starts before clearing his throat and adjusting his voice to a mockingly low one. “The path to freedom lies in truth. Only when you embrace what you have discovered can you leave this place.” He chuckled again, meeting your gaze. “A bit ominous, isn’t it?”

“You’re full of rubbish,” you shoot back, shaking your head out of frustration. “You can read it, just like that? After I spent all that time trying to decipher it?”

Astarion grinned, clearly enjoying the surprise on your face. “What, you don’t think I have any skills beyond my charming wit and dashing good looks?”

You cross your arms, looks mirroring the dejection you felt within yourself.

“I assure you, darling, I’m not making it up. But, if you’re still so inclined to doubt me, why don’t you come and see for yourself?”

You frowned at the elf before reaching out to take the book from him, but Astarion didn’t release his hold. Your fingers brushed against each other, and for a moment, the two of you hesitated, locked in a brief standoff. Then, the pages of the tome began to glow with a soft, ethereal light.

“What in the Hells-” you began but were cut off when the light flared, engulfing both of you. The world around you blurred and twisted sharply, and you were suddenly yanked from your camp with a force that left you breathless.

When the light finally faded, you found yourself thrown onto a cobble path- right in the middle of a picturesque village, the kind that belonged in a fairy tale.

As you stood, you noticed blooming flowers lining the cobbled roads, their sweet scent filling the air. The roofs were thatched in all colors of shingles. Nearby, a baker had opened his window, the smell of freshly baked bread wafting into the street.

You blink in confusion before realizing you were no longer in your clothes- you were dressed in a flowing, ethereal gown that shimmered like starlight. Beside you, Astarion looked equally stunned, his usual dark attire replaced with a fine, tailored getup that made him look every bit the nobleman.

He glanced around, then down at the book, which was still in his hand, now glowing with a faint, pulsing light.

“Well,” he mused, his tone a mix of amusement and annoyance. “It appears we’ve been… transported.”

You shot him a look, your frustration bubbling up again. “Transported? Where? Was it the book?”

Astarion held the suspect up, smirking. “Hmm. It seems our little tug-of-war triggered some sort of enchantment.”

Before you could respond, the two of you were approached by a plump woman, her bright pink cheeks and exaggeratedly twinkling eyes making her look like a character from a children’s story.

“Oh, my darlings!” the woman exclaimed, her voice as melodious as a jingle. “You two are just the most perfect couple I’ve ever seen!”

Before you could protest, she was pushing you towards an intricately decorated cottage at the edge of the village. A sign hung above the door; it depicted two cartoonish dragons curving into a heart. Below it, you could make out “Enchanted Encounters by Madame Delphine” in a deep purple, delicate handwriting.

With a flourish, she gestured at the building. It was just as cartoonish as the sign, if not more, with its heart-shaped windows, a thatched roof adorned with twinkling lights, and a garden bursting with oversized, colorful roses.

“Welcome, welcome to Enchanted Encounters, where love is our specialty!”

As she ushered you deeper inside, the air was filled with the scent of lavender and roses, and the walls were lined with love-themed trinkets and framed, exaggeratedly romantic artwork. Despite the overwhelming theme, the atmosphere was warm and inviting. Soft, fluffy cushions and plush armchairs were scattered around, and a fireplace crackled.

The woman motioned for you and Astarion to sit. You exchanged a wary glance with Astarion before he gestured to an armchair. “Ladies first,” he purred, flashing you a devilish smirk.

The woman plopped down into a chair opposite you. “I have so much to tell you! First things first-”

“Now wait just a second,” you interrupted, shifting uncomfortably in your dress.

“What in the hells is going on? Who are you?”

The woman smiled softly, the expression on her face as if you had just asked her the most mundane question.

“I am Madame Delphine, matchmaker extraordinaire! And you, my lovelies, are here to discover the magic of true love.”

Astarion raised an eyebrow, glancing around the room with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. “We’ve been trapped in a book, for the gods sakes. You know that, don’t you?”

Madame Delphine’s eyes widened with a touch of drama, as if she had known all along. “Ah, that’s the crux of the matter! The village of Fable’s End is a place where destinies intertwine. The magic here seeks out those who are at a crossroads, those who might benefit from a little extra push in discovering their true feelings,” she mimed pushing the air as to add emphasis.

“Well, that’s just lovely, but we had important matters to attend to,” Astarion retorted, motioning to his head.

Madame Delphine chuckled softly, her laugh a melodious sound that seemed to resonate with the whimsical surroundings. “But that’s just it! The magic doesn’t always wait for the perfect timing. You see, the enchantment isn’t about disrupting your lives but about giving you a unique opportunity to reflect.. And connect,” she added, wiggling her eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

“Madame Delphine,” you start, your tone firm but respectful, “you’ve made a mistake. You brought us here under the impression that we are lovers. But that’s simply not true. We are not in love.”

Astarion, his arms crossed, added, “Oh, indeed. This whole scenario feels rather contrived.”

Madame Delphine’s eyes softened with a mix of sympathy and understanding. “I see. Well, if you truly believe that, then perhaps it’s best to explore what the village has in store for you with open minds and hearts. The journey might reveal more than you expect.”

As Madame Delphine spoke, an unexpected, shimmering light began to swirl around you and Astarion. The colors shifted, and the cottage’s walls seemed to dissolve into an ethereal mist. The light took on the shape of a heart, and the air was filled with a gentle, melodious hum.

You and Astarion exchanged puzzled glances as the enchantment’s glow enveloped you. Suddenly, scenes from your past adventures began to play out around you, projected in vivid, heartwarming detail.

You saw shared glances, instances of unspoken support and subtle gestures of care. The images revealed how your bond had deepened over time, showing you moments that had seemed insignificant but were actually filled with unspoken affection.

The scenes began to shift to more intimate moments. You saw yourselves laughing together by the campfire, comforting each other after a battle, and sharing quiet conversations.

When the light finally faded, Astarion’s eyes met yours, his usual aloofness softened by a vulnerable gaze. “I didn’t realize… We’ve been through so much together, haven’t we?”

Your cheeks flushed with a blend of surprise and embarrassment, and you nodded slowly. “Yes, we have. And when I think back on everything…”

Madame Delphine, who had been quietly observing, smiled warmly. “Sometimes, it takes a little magic to help us see what’s been there all along. Your journey here has allowed you to confront your true feelings and understand them more deeply.”

You stared at each other for a moment longer before the matchmaker interrupted your thoughts.

“Now, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty, shall we? You see, my dears, this isn’t just a simple matchmaking service. This is a story, and every story has its rules.”

You raise an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. “Rules? What kind of rules?”

Madame Delphine leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. “You’re not the first couple to find yourselves in this delightful predicament. This village, and indeed, my matchmaking services, have seen many a pair before you.”

Astarion looked intrigued, his usual smirk replaced by genuine interest. “What happened to them?”

“Ah, well,” Madame Delphine said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “some found true love, others simply discovered something about themselves they never knew. But all of them played their parts—quite literally. You see, in this story, you must embrace your roles as lovers. The more convincingly you play your parts, the closer you’ll come to breaking the enchantment.”

You frown slightly. “And if we refuse to play along?”

Madame Delphine’s face became somber, though her cartoonish eyes still held a glimmer of mischief. “Oh, I wouldn’t recommend that. The enchantment is quite persistent, and resisting only prolongs the tale.”

Astarion leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression on his face. “And what exactly are these roles we’re supposed to play?”

Madame Delphine clapped her hands together, her cheery demeanor returning. “Oh, nothing too difficult! Simply be the star-crossed lovers you’re meant to be. The village will do the rest, guiding you through various trials and encounters. Just remember, the more authentic your feelings, the smoother the journey.”

You glance at Astarion. “Well, it seems we don’t have much choice.”

Astarion, with a dramatic sigh, offered her a small smile. “I suppose so. I do love a good drama.”

Madame Delphine clapped her hands with delight. “Splendid! Now, off you go, darlings. The story awaits, and I’m sure it will be a most enchanting one!”

The two of you stood, walking out of the cottage. As the door closed behind you, you sank to your knees, head in your hands. “Gods, why is there never any fine print on enchanted objects?”

Astarion, standing beside you with an amused smirk, glanced over. “And here I thought you liked surprises, darling. Isn’t this all just a bit of unexpected fun?”

You shot him a look, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “Oh yes, so much fun. Being trapped in a magical book, forced to play the part of lovers—absolute delight.”

Your bickering was abruptly interrupted by a clanging sound and the appearance of a rather comical figure.

A paladin, clad in ridiculously oversized armor that made him look like a walking castle, emerged from behind a heart-shaped archway. His helmet was so large that it wobbled precariously with every step he took, and his lance looked more like a toothpick in his gloved hands.

“Ho there, fair maiden afar! A beautiful thing, a shining star!” he shouted, voice vibrating throughout his suit of armor. “How I cherish Lathander, my guiding light, for blessing me with such a sight.”

“Is he.. Rhyming?” You questioned, sharing a quizzical look with your companion.

“I think one weirdo is enough to deal with today,” Astarion stated before pushing on your waist, ushering you to walk away.

“Halt, pale fellow! Leave her be, so kind, so mellow,” the knight declared with exaggerated bravado, his voice echoing through his oversized helmet.

Astarion raised an eyebrow, turning back to the paladin. “Oh, and who are you to address this.. Maiden?” he asked.

“I am Lord Reginald, in the flesh. And her heart.. With mine, I’d like to mesh.”

Astarion’s wariness gave way to amusement. “Her? Are you sure? She’s rather unpleasant in the morning.”

You reach out and hit him on the arm.

“You dare insult her, a rose, a petal?” Lord Reginald boomed back, attempting to lift his helm from his eyes. It clanked back into place. “For your sake, sir, I hope you have the mettle.”

“Are you threatening me now, Lord?” Astarion shot back, then turned to you. “I’m growing rather bored.” Realizing he had unintentionally rhymed, he muttered “Shit” under his breath.

“A duel it will be then, for the lady’s heart!” Lord Reginald said, raising his lance. “Come forth then, sparrow fart!”

Astarion narrowed his eyes, shooting the lord a steely look. “Sparrowfa-” you hit his arm again, a laugh threatening to spill out of your mouth. “Alright then, a duel, you say? And what weapon do you propose we use, lordling?”

Lord Reginald puffed out his chest, though it seemed more a result of his armor's bulk than his own physical prowess. “Not with swords, not with steel! We shall engage in a battle of words in which the lady must feel!”

You, caught between laughter and astonishment, looked at Astarion with a teasing grin. “I think he wants to duel it out over.. Romantic poetry. Seems like you may have a rather shit hand.”

“Perish the thought,” Astarion said. “How could I refuse such a challenge?”

He smirked, stepping forward with a flourish. “I suppose if it’s a duel of words, I should rise to the occasion.”

Lord Reginald straightened his oversized helmet with a flourish. “Let us begin the duel of melodies and verses, for the heart of the lovely Y/N calls me across universes.”

The knight stepped back and cleared his throat, preparing for his performance. He launched into a grandiose ballad with exaggerated gestures and a booming voice:

“From distant lands, both far and wide,

I’ve ventured forth with armor’s pride.

To win the heart of one so rare,

I sing my love with tender care.”

You smiled at the heartfelt, if not somewhat over-the-top, performance.

When Lord Reginald finished his verse with a flourish, he took a deep, exaggerated bow, his armor clanking with every movement. “My heart, my weapon. My words, my shield. Now, pale one.. Do you yield?”

Astarion stepped forward, his demeanor calm and confident. With a playful glint in his eye, he began.

“Beneath the moon’s enchanting light, In shadowed depths, where stars ignite, Our journey’s path has led us here, With every step, my heart grows clear.”

His verses felt tender and sincere, and you blushed as he took a bow, looking at you with a smirk as he did so. The village seemed to respond to his melody with a soft, shimmering light.

“You think that’s all? I’m not impressed,” Lord Reginald boomed. “Let’s see if you can handle this new test.”

He cleared his throat again before continuing.

“In twilight’s glow and morning’s dew,

My heart beats only, dear, for you.

Your laughter rings like sweetest chime,

A melody that transcends time.”

You raised your eyebrow at the lord before looking back at Astarion, who seemed unimpressed. “That one was pretty solid, Star. I’m not sure if you can do better than “a melody that transcends time.”

Astarion huffed before turning back to the knight.

“Through battles fierce and nights so long,

It’s with you, Y/N, where I belong.

In every glance and every sigh,

You’re the reason why I fly.”

As Astarion finished his verse and took another bow, you looked at him with admiration. Lord Reginald gave a respectful nod.

“Your performance was most admirable, Astarion,” Lord Reginald said, his voice filled with respect, and thankfully, no more rhymes. “I concede that the heart of the fair Y/N is yours, though I shall continue to admire her from afar.”

You stepped forward, your eyes sparkling with appreciation. “Thank you, Lord Reginald. That was quite an entertaining duel.”

Without another rhyme, Lord Reginald turned, clanking down the path and out of the village.

The two of you watched him walk away for a moment before you turned to him, smirking. “The reason that you fly, eh?”

Astarion frowned, facing you. “Oh, don’t you dare. Did you see what I was up against? The bastard was, unfortunately, rather well-spoken, if not annoying. Like Gale,” he spat.

You laugh. “I’m just teasing you. Your ballad was quite charming.”

He rolled his eyes, smirking. “Well, you weren’t exactly against embracing your role as a muse.”

Your exchange was interrupted by a burst of joyful laughter and the sound of rustling leaves. In the center of the village square stood an enormous, exuberant tree. Its branches swayed with an upbeat rhythm, and its bark seemed to be drawn on. The tree had eyes, large and twinkling with excitement, that were set in knots in the wood.

“Oh, oh! They’re coming!” the tree’s voice rang out in a sing-song tone. “Hey, over here! It’s Arboris! I’m a talking tree!”

You looked at each other, brows furrowed, before approaching the odd sight.

“Hello, there! I’m Arboris!” the tree repeated, looking at the two of you expectantly. You hesitated before giving it your names. “Hello, Arboris. I’m Y/N, and this is Astarion.”

The tree’s branches shook again. “Oh, I am so absolutely thrilled to meet you! Yes, I am! What fun we shall have!”

You crossed your arms. “Gods, please don’t burst out into rhymes,” Astarion quipped under his breath.

“To continue your delightful journey, you must solve my riddles. Oh, but you two are such pleasant company, I almost don’t want to tell them to you! Oh, what a dilemma!” they cried, casting their eyes to the ground.

You and Astarion exchanged another glance- you’d hardly said a thing. In fact, the pair of you likely came off as stand-offish. Pleasant company wasn’t the first thing that came to your mind.

“Riddles, you say?” he asked, his tone curious.

Arboris clapped their branches together in delight, shaking deep green leaves onto the ground, seemingly forgetting about being upset.

“Oh, yes, yes! And with such a splendid theme at that! I’m positively giddy! Here comes the first one!”

They continued clapping for a moment longer before they stilled completely, eyes turning a deep shade of purple. In an ominous voice, they declared:

“I am a bond that binds hearts tight,

A feeling that makes everything right.

I’m often whispered, sometimes declared,

In moments of joy or when hearts are bared.

What am I?”

Arboris began waving again happily, as if nothing had changed about them. “Come on, come on, what is it?” they squealed.

You turn to Astarion as you contemplate the riddle.

“Do you think they ever run out of rhymes here?” he groaned.

You ignored him. “Let’s see.. If I was the optimistic type.. Hmm. It sounds like ‘love’ itself!”

Astarion nodded, grinning. “Yes, it has to be love.”

With a smile, you spoke aloud, “The answer is love!”

Arboris became even more animated, branches swaying in a celebratory dance. “Brilliant! Oh, how wonderful! You’re so clever! Now, onto the second riddle!”

They grew still again, eyes turning the same shade of purple:

“I am a gesture that’s sweet and dear, Often given when loved ones are near. I can be soft or full of fire, I’m a sign of affection and desire. What am I?”

Astarion’s face lit up with recognition. “Why, it’s a kiss!”

You nod in agreement. “Yes, it’s definitely a kiss.”

You answer in unison, “A kiss!”

Arboris practically danced with joy, their branches moving in a jubilant swirl. “Oh, how splendid! You’re doing marvelously! I can hardly believe it! Now for the final riddle!”

The tree stilled once more:

“I am a bond that ties two hearts, A connection that never departs. Though time may pass and distance grow, Our feelings for each other always show. What am I?”

You and Astarion looked at each other. After a moment, you speak up with a smile.

“It’s a promise. It’s the bond between hearts that remains strong.. despite time and distance.”

Astarion nodded in agreement. “Yes, it’s definitely a promise.”

Arboris’ branches erupted in a cascade of sparkling leaves and squealed. “Bravo! Oh goodness me! You’ve answered all my riddles with such flair and insight! What a delightful pair you are indeed!”

The two of you smiled at each other, despite the barrage of rhymes.

“Oh, carry on now, on your adventure! But do remember our time together, when you met Arboris, the talking tree!” They waved a branch at you in goodbye.

You and Astarion turned and walked down another cobbled path, laughing to yourselves about the encounter.

“That creature was something else, wasn’t it?” Astarion remarked, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I think Arboris might have been a bit too cheerful for my taste.”

You chuckle. “You know, I think Arboris and Halsin would get along famously. Imagine the two of them together- enjoying the freedom of nature’s gifts,” you said, mocking your druid companion’s deep tone.

Astarion let out a sharp laugh, before mocking the tree. “Oh, Halsin, pick my leaves! And Halsin would be like, 'very well, if the Oakfather sees fit'.”

The two of you laughed, shaking your head. Turning a corner, a grand mansion adorned with opulent decorations came into view. It was certainly out of place in the sleepy village; the mansion’s splendor was undeniable, with intricate carvings and luxurious tapestries giving it an air of aristocracy.

Standing at the entrance was a striking noblewoman. Her gown, a flowing ensemble of crimson and gold, was adorned with sparkling jewels that caught the light with every subtle movement.

The woman spotted the two of you, and her eyes lit up with an unmistakable glint of interest. Her gaze lingered on Astarion.

“Well, well! What a delightful surprise!” the woman exclaimed, her voice rich and melodious. “I am Lady Seraphina, and I must say, it is a pleasure to meet such.. Intriguing individuals.”

Astarion, ever the epitome of charm, inclined his head in polite greeting. “The pleasure is all ours, Lady Seraphina. I am Astarion, and this is Y/N.”

You offered a courteous nod, but you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of discomfort as Lady Seraphina’s gaze became increasingly fixed on Astarion. The noblewoman’s approach was not merely cordial; it was laden with flirtation.

“Ah, Astarion,” Lady Seraphina purred, her voice dripping with exaggerated affection. “You’re quite the striking adventurer, aren’t you? I’d love to hear more about your travels. Perhaps you’d care to join me for a private chat inside? I’m sure we could find many… fascinating topics to discuss.”

As she spoke, Lady Seraphina’s hand brushed against Astarion’s arm, lingering a moment longer than necessary. Her eyes were wide with an artful blend of admiration and seduction. For you, the sight was a jarring contrast to the polite distance you were accustomed to. Your heart raced with a blend of irritation and something deeper- an emotion you hadn’t expected to feel so intensely.

You had always prided yourself on your composure and self-control. Yet seeing Lady Seraphina made your chest tighten with a pang of jealousy. The way her eyes sparkled as she looked at Astarion, the subtle but unmistakable way she attempted to draw him away from you- it all seemed to chip away at your usually steadfast resolve.

You had been trying to ignore the way Astarion’s charm seemed to attract attention from all quarters, but this was different. The noblewoman’s words were brazen and direct, and the unspoken challenge was impossible to miss. You felt a surge of uncharacteristic possessiveness; it was clear Lady Seraphina was trying to seduce Astarion, and the sight stung.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward. “Lady Seraphina, while your offer is generous, Astarion and I have our own plans. We prefer to explore the village together.”

Your tone was steady, but there was an edge to your words that surprised even you. Lady Seraphina’s eyes widened slightly, her practiced charm faltering for a moment as she processed your unexpected intervention.

“Oh?” she replied, her voice carrying a note of barely concealed irritation. “It’ll only be a moment, I’m sure.”

You look at your companion who seemed to be smitten with the fact he was being flirted with. He glanced at you, devilish smirk gracing his features. You felt a tug from the tadpole burrowed in your head.

‘Just playing my part.. Like you did so graciously with Lord Reginald.’

With that, the lady tugged him into the mansion, the loud thud of the wooden doors closing in front of you making you jump.

“You bastard!” you shouted, hoping he could hear you despite the thickness of the door.

You shake your head before becoming lost in thought. ‘Is he trying to make me.. Jealous?’ you thought to yourself. Because dammit all, it was working.

What in the hells had come over you? When Madame Delphine had forced you to reflect on your relationship with the vampire, you realized something that you had tried to suppress deep down. With the weight of the entire realm on your shoulders, feeling anything for anyone was selfish, would deter you from the task.

Oh, but the way Astarion made you feel. He made you feel alive. Like you could do anything, be anything. And you could only hope you made him feel the same way.

After a minute or two, you couldn’t help but be drawn back to reality, or whatever it was, by the heaviness of the situation. You had to go get Astarion.

You pushed the door open quietly and stepped in, being greeted by an equally lavish hallway. What appeared to be hundreds of other hallways branched off of it, all lined with doors.

“Oh, hells,” you murmured to yourself. You took off down one hallway, picking up the ends of your dress to ensure you didn’t trip over it. Slowly, you had managed to make your way down the entire branch, pressing an ear to each door and hearing nothing.

Feeling defeated, you turned to walk back down to the main hallway, when suddenly, a shrill scream rang out. A door burst open, and there Astarion stood, gasping for breath. He caught your eye in an instant.

“Oh gods, Y/N, you have to hear this- Lady Seraphina was trying to-” His eyes were wide, and his cheeks slightly flushed as he struggled to find the right words. “I didn’t think she would actually, well, you know..” You stared at him in confusion, and right before the realization dawned, Astarion shouted it out.

“Gods, Y/N, she was trying to fuck me!”

“Are you always this stupid, or are you making a special effort to torment me?” you shot back. “I could’ve told you that at the front door!”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the sight of the visibly flustered vampire. He rolled his eyes as you reached your arm out to him. He linked his in yours, and the two of you began to run out of the mansion. You leaned in, your laughter mingling with his as you navigated the lavish hallways.

As you exited the mansion, Astarion leaned against the door, finally having a moment to catch his breath.

“Now, before you say anything,” he panted, “I didn’t go in with the intention of that happening.” You placed a hand on your hip. “Oh? And what intention did you go in with? Playing a friendly game of lanceboard and having a glass of wine?”

He glanced sideways at you, and hesitated. For a moment you thought he wasn’t going to speak at all, but then he continued. “I thought it might be a bit… amusing to see if I could make you a little jealous.”

You raised an eyebrow, a sense of relief washing over you. “And what in the hells made you think that was a good idea?”

Astarion shrugged. “Well.. you made me endure Lord Reginald’s attempts to make you swoon. I thought I might return the favor with a little.. Strategic distraction.” You laugh. “That’s rather bold of you.”

Astarion’s lips curved into a grin, exposing his pearly fangs. “Ah, but there’s something rather intriguing about seeing you flustered. And I must say, it worked better than I expected.”

Just as you went to respond, Madame Delphine appeared, her arrival marked by a swirl of colorful mist and an air of dramatic flair. She had changed into an extravagant gown of deep purple and red, and her face was covered by a mask resembling a cat.

“Voila!” she stated, twirling around before meeting the expectant gaze of you and Astarion. “Impressive, hmm? Weren’t expecting that, were you? Then again, you two have done all sorts of things I haven’t expected.” She paused for a second and looked at Astarion. “Lovely rhymes, by the way.”

Astarion scoffed as she pulled out a letter from her corset. “Why does everyone act so surprised by that?”

Madame Delphine gingerly handed you the parchment. “I have a final challenge for you- one that is both grand and delightful.”

Astarion turned to face her fully. “And what might that be?”

Madame Delphine’s smile widened as you opened the letter. “You are cordially invited to the Enchanted Revelry! Oh, it will be a wonderful time. It will be the final challenge of your journey here in Fable’s End. A chance to showcase not just your charming features, but your true feelings for one another in the most enchanting of settings.”

“The- what?” you ask, tilting your head.

“Why, a masquerade ball, lovey! Simply attend, I’ll do the rest. I’ll be just like your Faerie Godmother, eh?”

Astarion raised an eyebrow and turned to you. “Well, it seems we’re in for quite the evening.”

You grinned, nudging him playfully. “I’m sure the revelry will be just the thing to top off our adventure. I mean, we’ve already faced the barrage of ballads- a ball should be a piece of cake.”

Madame Delphine clapped her hands together with glee. “Excellent! I shall see you both at the ball.” In her usual burst of theatrical flair, she conjured a majestic castle right before your eyes. The building seemed to rise from the very heart of the village, its walls sparkling.

With a final, enthusiastic wave, she disappeared.

The grand entrance of the castle loomed before you, adorned with cascading banners and glittering lights. From beyond the doors, you could hear elegant music playing, and the scent of delectable treats wafted through open windows. You couldn’t help but feel excited- despite your predicament, whether it was inside a book or out in the real realm, attempting to keep mind flayers at bay, you were still a girl, enchanted by dancing and big dresses.

As you entered the castle, the doors closed behind you with a soft, resonant thud. The ballroom was an exquisite spectacle, with crystal chandeliers casting a soft glow over an elaborate dance floor. Couples swirled elegantly in their masks and gowns, their laughter mingling with the melodious strains of the distant orchestra.

However, as you and Astarion stepped into the ballroom, you were separated by an unexpected enchantment. A gust of wind swept through the hall, and you found yourself alone on one side of the grand space.

“Wait!” you called out, your voice tinged with urgency. “Astarion!”

But your call was swallowed by the crowd, and Astarion was soon lost among the masked revelers. Frustration and concern mingled in your chest as you scanned the ballroom, trying to catch a glimpse of him.

As you struggled to find your way through the throng of masked guests, Madame Delphine appeared beside you once again. With a wave of her wand, she conjured a resplendent gown for you.

The gown shimmered with hues of deep emerald and silver, its fabric flowing like liquid moonlight. Accompanying the gown was an intricately designed mask, shaped like a graceful fox with delicate filigree patterns.

“There you are!” Madame Delphine said, her voice filled with delight. “You look enchanting! Now, to find Astarion, you must let your heart guide you.”

Before you could respond, Madame Delphine vanished in a swirl of sparkling mist, leaving you alone in your magnificent new attire. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself and stepped into the ballroom.

The grandeur of the castle was breathtaking, with its high ceilings and sweeping staircases leading to ornate balconies. The guests, all adorned in their own elaborate masks and gowns, danced and mingled beneath the glittering chandeliers. You felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation as you moved through the crowd, your eyes scanning each masked gentleman with hopeful anticipation.

Every masked face you encountered seemed to carry an air of mystery, and the enchantment of the night made it difficult to distinguish one from another. Despite your frustration, you found yourself caught up in the rhythm of the event, letting the music and the atmosphere guide you.

On the other side of the ballroom, Astarion wandered about, half blinded by his own mask. The dance floor was a swirling sea of masked figures, their costumes and masks creating a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. To the casual observer, Astarion might have seemed like just another guest, but his every movement betrayed a focused intent. His eyes, sharp and alert, scanned the crowd with a keen determination. This hunt was different from any he had known before—it was not for prey, but for the one person who had captured his heart.

Astarion’s movements were smooth and calculated, each step and turn a testament to his skill in navigating both physical and social landscapes. He slipped through the crowd with the ease of a shadow, his gaze shifting and darting as he searched for you. The ballroom's ambiance—the swirling music, the laughter, and the gentle clinking of glasses—seemed to fade into the background as he honed in on his target.

His mind raced with thoughts of you, each memory a vivid reminder of why this search was so crucial. You, with your grace and warmth, had become the center of his world. The way you moved, the way you spoke, and even the way you challenged him—it was all part of what drew him to you. This hunt was driven by an emotional urgency, a longing to find you and be with you.

The thrill of the hunt, so familiar to him, was now tinged with a new, profound significance. It was no longer the thrill of the chase for its own sake, but rather the pursuit of something far more precious. Each masked face he passed seemed to blend into the next, a sea of anonymity that only heightened his determination. His heart pounded not just with the excitement of the chase, but with a deeper, more intimate anticipation.

He maneuvered through the crowd, his senses attuned to every subtle shift in the atmosphere. Astarion's eyes, narrowed in focus, finally caught sight of a familiar figure amidst the revelry. His heart quickened as he recognized your elegant silhouette, your back turned to him.

As he approached you, the world seemed to narrow to just the space between you. The masks and costumes of the other guests fell away, leaving only you in his field of vision. He moved with a purposeful elegance, closing the distance with a sense of anticipation that was both thrilling and a bit terrifying.

You spun around, seeing Astarion standing several paces away. Behind his mask, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that spoke of both relief and adoration.

Astarion, with his predatory grace now softened by his genuine feelings, bowed before reaching out and offering a hand. The search had led him to the person he had come to love, and the fulfillment of that pursuit was more satisfying than he could have ever imagined.

As the music shifted to a softer, more melodic tune, the ballroom seemed to clear slightly, allowing you and Astarion to draw closer. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. You hurried towards each other, weaving through the remaining dancers.

Finally, you met in the center of the ballroom, where the music swelled, filling the space with a sweeping, romantic melody. Astarion’s eyes were alight with joy as he took your hands in his.

“There you are,” he said softly. “I was beginning to think I’d never find you.”

You smiled, your eyes shining as you looked up at him. “I was searching for you, too. However, I knew I would find you.”

The orchestra’s music swirled around you, and as if by design, the dancers around you fell away, leaving you and Astarion alone in your own world. Astarion held you close, his hands resting gently on your waist as he guided you through the dance.

Your heart was racing. The way Astarion’s gaze lingered on you, the warmth of his touch, and the rhythm of your dance all combined to create a profound sense of connection. You felt as if the entire evening had led to this singular, perfect moment.

As the waltz reached its crescendo, the dance seemed to slow, drawing you closer. The music swirled around you, and as you moved together in the final, lingering steps, your faces drew near. Gently, Astarion pulled up his mask, then yours. You could feel his cool breath fanning against your face.

“Well, my dear,” he began, voice barely above a whisper. “It seems we’ve survived this.. Masquerade of madness. But before the curtain falls on our little performance, there’s one last thing I’d like to do.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the intimacy of the moment. By him. “Oh? And what might that be?”

“I was wondering… since we’ve managed to breeze our way through every other challenge, would it be terribly forward of me to ask if I might kiss you?”

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, but you quickly regained your composure, matching his playful tone. “Terribly forward? Perhaps,” you replied with a smirk, “but then again, when has that ever stopped you?”

Astarion chuckled softly. “Touché. But I’d rather not assume. After all, I’ve been trying to behave myself… most of the time.”

You tilted your head slightly, your smile softening as you looked at him. “Well, since you’ve been so well-behaved, I suppose I can grant you this one request.”

Astarion’s expression shifted, a mixture of genuine affection and delight replacing the earlier teasing. “In that case, I shall take this rare opportunity and make the most of it.”

With a gentleness that belied his usual bravado, Astarion leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a tender, lingering kiss. It was a kiss filled with unspoken words and emotions that had been building between them for so long. It was a revelation, a silent admission of everything you had been too guarded or too afraid to say. His hand, cold and steady, cradled the back of your neck, drawing you even closer.

As you slowly pulled away, the lingering sensation of the kiss remained, a sweet ache that left both of you breathless. Your foreheads pressed together, and the quiet after the kiss was filled with a newfound understanding. It was as if the kiss had woven a thread between your hearts, something strong and unbreakable, a promise of what was to come. “Thank you, Y/N. For the dance, for the adventure… and for this.”

You smiled, your heart full as you looked into his eyes. “The pleasure was mine, Astarion.”

Before you could fully savor the moment, a sudden shift in the air signaled a change.

The grand ballroom began to dissolve around you, the enchanting lights and sounds fading away. As you felt yourselves being transported back to your world, the figures of Madame Delphine, Arboris, Lady Seraphina, and Lord Reginald became visible once more.

Madame Delphine waved energetically, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Farewell, my dear adventurers! Until our paths cross again!”

Arboris, despite being clearly uprooted, was placed on a velvet chaise lounge, a tablecloth draped over them. They gave a jovial wave, their branches and leaves rustling with the movement. “Bye bye, dear friends! Oh, do be good!”

Lady Seraphina, now dressed in an elegant gown that matched her haughty demeanor, offered a graceful nod. Though her expression was one of polite interest rather than warmth, there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. “It seems you managed quite well… despite our little disagreement.”

Lord Reginald, wearing an oversized blazer, gave a flourish with his lance, his voice carrying a hint of good-natured pride. “Bravo! Your performance was most impressive. Until we meet, I’ll hope you’ll be-” he turned to Lady Seraphina. “Damn it all! What rhymes with impressive?”

With a final burst of magical light, you found yourselves back in your own world, sitting right where you had first touched the book. Gale was the first thing you saw, his hand waving in front of your face with a look of mild concern.

“Ah, there you are! Welcome back to the land of the living,” he said, his voice tinged with relief. “You’ve been out for over an hour. We were starting to get worried.”

Before either of you could respond, Shadowheart’s voice echoed from within her tent. “Hold on, Gale! I finally found the spell!”

Gale waved a hand dismissively in the direction of Shadowheart's tent, clearly more interested in ensuring you and Astarion were alright. But Astarion, with a rare, contented smile, simply waved him off. “We’re fine, Gale. We just… had a bit of an adventure.”

Gale raised an eyebrow, clearly curious but perhaps wisely choosing not to pry. “Well, as long as you’re both alright,” he said, stepping back to give you some space. With a final glance between the two of you, he turned and walked away, leaving you and Astarion alone.

You sat there in the fading light, the camp bustling quietly around you, but it all seemed distant, unimportant. What mattered now was the shared experience that had shifted something fundamental between you. Astarion’s hand still held yours, and as he looked at you, his usual teasing smirk softened into something more sincere.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice low and thoughtful, “I know we’ve been through a lot together, but what we just experienced… it felt different, didn’t it?”

You nodded, your eyes meeting his with a mix of understanding and affection. “It did. It was like everything we’ve been avoiding or denying just came to the surface. And now… now I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”

Astarion’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if anchoring himself to the moment. “I feel the same. I’ve spent so long not trusting, not letting anyone get too close… but with you, it’s different. I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know one thing—I want you in it. I want to be a part of your life, whatever that looks like.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled, a soft, genuine smile that reached your eyes. “I want that too, Astarion. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

As if drawn together by an invisible force, you leaned in, sharing a kiss that was both a reaffirmation of your bond and a vow for the future. This kiss was slower, more deliberate, filled with the understanding that you were stepping into something new, something lasting.

When you finally pulled apart, the world around you came back into focus. The camp, the fire, the distant sounds of your companions—it was all still there, but now it felt different, brighter, as if the future you had just spoken of was already beginning to unfold.

You leaned your head on Astarion's shoulder, a small smile playing on your lips. “You know,” you murmured, “I think we make a pretty good team, even when we’re thrown into ridiculous situations.”

Astarion chuckled, gently resting his cheek against the top of your head. “Ridiculous is an understatement, my dear. But yes, I suppose we do make a rather formidable duo, don’t we?”

You nodded, your smile growing as you closed your eyes, savoring the closeness between you. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Neither would I,” he whispered.

You sat there in silence, the night wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. And as Astarion glanced over at Gale, a mischievous glint in his eyes, he couldn’t help but add, “But I really do look forward to calling him Lord Reginald.”

You burst into a fit of giggles, and Astarion grinned, his heart lighter than it had been in centuries. The adventure was far from over, but for now, you had found something even more precious—each other.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion x you #astarion fluff #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #fairy tales #lord reginald deserves the world

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