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bongopowder · 10 days ago

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perfect (abbacchio)

⁺ . ✦ .　⁺ jojo's bizzare adventure (abbacchio x reader) ⁺ 　 . ✦ . ⁺

content (18+): nsfw, oh he hates you...

word count: 4.4k

a tune for you: not another song about love (hollywood ending) lol

Moonlight trickled through the open shutters, the alabaster rays of soft light highlighting the room in uniform streaks, interrupted only by the glow of the monitor in front of you. Map after map, tab after tab, click after click, you persist, shuffling through the information as your eyes strain to continue looking at that damned screen. It had been hours – no, days – trying to figure out where this hideout was, and to no avail, a previously unwavering hope staring to dim with every new dead end. The work usually becomes intoxicating when you sink into it, the circuits of your brain firing with dedication and grit, attention usually unwavering. But it was something about tonight; your mind wandered, shuffling through memories like a filing cabinet, searching for some kind of answer.

You never understood why he hated you so much. What had you really done?

It wasn’t as if you were useless, or a delinquent. Undertrained? Perhaps, you could admit that, but your Stand had only awoken a few months prior, after first meeting Bucciarati and Polpo. Since then, you had been nothing short of dedicated. So why?

You rub your eyes, quickly realizing the futility of being caught up on such uncontrollable things. More important was the map in front of you. Of course.

A gentle knock causes your head to snap in the direction of the nearby door, the emptiness of the room creating a hollow echo.

“Come in,” you call curiously, checking your watch. 10:30.

Bucciarati peeks his head around the door with an appreciative and knowing smile, his hand lingering on the door’s handle as he steps into the room.

“Thought we’d check on you,” he starts, now walking towards the desk. “Any progress?”

We?

You tense slightly as you see Abbacchio follow behind Bucciarati, his unreadable eyes scanning the room for a moment before falling on you.

“You should really turn a light on in here… You’re going to kill your eyes,” Bucciarati says, leaning over to snap on the lamp perched on the desk. The unwelcome brightness causes your eyes to flutter shut for a moment before readjusting with a sigh.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you mumble softly with a nod before turning back to the screen. “As for updates… I can tell you where the location isn’t. No progress on where it is, though.”

Bucciarati hums softly, clearly disappointed as his hand moves to his chin in thought. Abbacchio, on the other hand, makes a sound that can only be described as a grumble, before looking away from the screen.

“Not even a general area?” Bucciarati eventually asks.

“Well, depends on how general you’re looking for,” you reply, gesturing to the map. “I’m certain it’s among these streets, however, it’s probably too large to survey. It’s just… a lot of data to go through alone… Sorry.”

“You need another hand?”

“Well,” you tilt your head in thought. “I guess someone else would help… I think alone I can finish in another few days, but it might be quicker if someone else is available.”

“Abbacchio,” Bucciarati speaks, standing up straight and turning to the man beside him. “Help her tomorrow.” Abbacchio scoffs, waving his hand for a moment before replying.

“She said herself she can do it alone,” he retorts, expression hardening with his mumble.

“She also said it would be faster with help. The quicker we know the location, the quicker we get paid. Now,” Bucciarati continues, placing a hand on Abbacchio’s shoulder before turning to walk out of the room. “Both of you can discuss a plan for tomorrow, and then seriously, go to bed. It’s unhealthy to be working so late.”

A light smile tugs at your lips as you nod, grateful to be nearly done for the day. Abbacchio opens his mouth, as if to protest, but quickly closes it and looks away, nodding with a slight huff as Bucciarati leaves, closing the door behind him.

“So,” you clear your throat nervously, shifting the desk chair to the side before turning back to the monitor. “Really what I need is you to read these files, and-”

“How long is this going to take?” Abbacchio interjects in annoyance.

“I… I don’t know. I mean, if you read fast, a couple hours. Just scan the police reports and tell me where the units were in each of them. I’m trying to triangulate the location,” you explain calmly, trying to soothe your beating heart.

“Fine,” he crosses his arms, standing up straight, narrowed eyes darting across your face.

You nod again, standing up from your chair awkwardly as you put the computer to sleep. Quickly organizing the papers sprawled out on the desk, you try to relax your tensed shoulders, secretly hoping he’ll leave, saving you the trouble of having to engage in small talk. And again, with the quick switch of the lamp, the room is left in eerie darkness.

Much to your surprise, he lingers, body rigid with agitation. He clears his throat as you stand up straight, though you want nothing more than to walk out that door, mere feet away from you.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t want to be doing this either,” you nod and speak quietly, trying to be reassuring as if he expected you to say something.

“Don’t. Just, don’t,” he snaps, his voice strained. It was though you could feel his temper slowly running out. You nod, eyes suddenly finding the carpet very interesting as you wait for him to leave the room.

“Why do you have to apologize all the time,” he mumbles, almost under his breath as he steps towards the door.

“What?” you reply, though quickly regret even speaking.

“You always apologize for no reason,” he turns to you, words almost coming out as a growl. “It really pisses me off.”

“Oh, um, I’m sorr-” you pause, swallowing nervously before correcting yourself. “I mean… I’ll avoid it in the future.”

“Why?” his question lingers in the air, and in the darkness, you swear you see him step closer.

“I… I don’t know, I just feel like you’re always angry at me,” you whisper the last few words quietly, as if almost afraid to admit it.

“You don’t know why?” he scoffs, mindlessly cracking his knuckles. “You never react to anything…” his deep voice drops further, each syllable accentuated with irritation.

You take a meek step back, your hands meeting behind your back as you look up at him. Pursing your lips, ridden with anxiety, you can only wonder what exactly you’re doing wrong.

“God, why can’t you just be a normal person? Even now,” he rolls his eyes, stepping closer to you. “You’re too damn respectful even when you shouldn’t be. It’s infuriating…”

“I’m… too respectful?” you tilt your head to the side, confusion peeking through your nervousness. “Should I not be-”

Something in him seemed to snap, your words interrupted as he pushes you back into a nearby wall, firmly holding you in place by your shoulder.

“You’re too quiet and agreeable, all the time,” he spits with anger, his body pressing closer to yours. “It’s as if nothing can make you angry.”

His breathing grows heavier, dark eyes looking down at you as he tightens his grip on your shoulder, his other hand clenching into a fist at his side. You’re trapped, his hips nearly touching yours, your back pressed tight against the wall, the palms of your hands sweating against the paint.

“I…” you begin to studder, the words getting lost in your throat as you look up into his eyes.

He leans forward, his face now inches from yours, etched with anger and irritation, yet somehow… conflicted.

“You never get mad, or raise your voice…” he mutters softly, voice still dripping with frustration.

His other forearm moves beside your head, further restricting your movement and encasing you further against the wall. You can feel his hot breath against your skin, noticing the way his eyes travel across your features and down your body.

You were sure he could hear your heartbeat, the way it raced like a drum, pounding almost painfully at your ribs, the sensation growing more powerful as the seconds passed. His eyes meet yours, his gaze now unwavering. He’s so close. Impossibly close.

“It’s like you’re… perfect. It drives me insane,” he mumbles, voice barely a hushed whisper, the soft brush of air tickling your cheek.

“W- what?” you breathe in shock, eyes searching his face in the darkness. “What do you-”

“Shut up,” he grumbles firmly, his eyes flickering down to your lips in the darkness. His grip on your shoulder was tight, almost painful, as his other and traveled down towards your face.

Silence permeated the room, broken only by the mingling sound of deep breaths. The heat of your bodies nearly pressed together was overwhelming, and his hand on your shoulder was like fire through the fabric of your clothes. You search his face desperately, your vision subconsciously drawn to his lips, which softly part.

Suddenly, his expression softened, more than before and only slightly, as if the last of his anger and frustration had begun their transition to something new. Something more dangerous.

Within a second, his hand gently releases your shoulder, fingers lingering on the seam of your shirt before wandering down your arm, his touch light and tantalizing. His other hand now reaches towards your cheek, pushing back a strand of hair and slowly caressing it with his thumb.

“Tell me to stop…” he whispers again, almost desperately now, his vision clouded with urgency and desire.

The words catch in your throat, if there were any words in the first place. You can’t reply, or rather, you don’t know if you want to. Inhaling sharply at his tender touch, you can’t seem to look away from him, your body frozen in an unfamiliar blend of anxiety and yearning.

“You should… You should stop me,” he insists, his hand now moving to your waist, pressing you further against the wall.

But you can’t.

God, you want to. You want to leave and forget this confusing interaction ever happened but the more you look up to his lips the more you feel yourself melting into his touch. He hates you, and you know that, but something about it makes your chest tighten.

It’s conflicting; you shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.

He felt your breath hitch, and in a second he was kissing you. It wasn’t smooth or gentle, but rather like a crash of waves, his teeth roughly colliding with yours in desperation. And how it was filled with frustration, as if you both resented it but couldn't stop.

His hand found your scalp, pulling your head back and deepening the kiss further as his tongue finds yours. God, you hated it. Hated the way he tasted so sweet, hated the way his hand ran up your body, hated the way you wanted him so badly, as if starved for his touch.

The kiss grows hungrier with every passing second, unbroken even as you both struggle to breathe, mind and body focused only on the sensation of his touch. You feel yourself grow lightheaded, breaking away for only a moment to gasp before his lips crash against yours yet again.

You’re drowning in the sensation of him, stars dancing along the sides of your vision as your hands move to his chest, fingers sliding gently across the opening of his shirt. He groans, the sound swallowed by the proximity of your lips, just as he shifts his grip to your waist, pulling you closer into him.

A soft moan escapes your lips as you feel your hips press against his, your back instinctively arching and eliciting another desperate sound from him. He whispers your name against your lips, tone laced with agitation and need as he grinds his hips against yours, pushing you further against the wall.

“Abbacchio-” you whimper back, only to be silenced as he plants a wet kiss just below your jawline.

“Just… be quiet,” he grumbles, lips grazing your neck before he rests his forehead against the wall behind you. You hear his breaths coming in uneven, chest heaving up and down almost tumultuously. He sighs, and you feel his grip tightening in your hair, the tug making you wince slightly.

Gently, you run your hand further up his chest, fingers brushing along his collarbone and neck before settling in his hair. You feel him shudder under his touch, his hand on your hip tightening as his fingers dig into your skin.

“S-stop,” he hisses softly, swallowing a groan caught in his throat. “I’m trying to…”

You bite your lip, trying to control your own breathing. He’s right; you shouldn’t be doing this, but it’s far too late for reason and restraint. You continue to run your hand through his hair, coaxing another soft groan from Abbacchio who presses his head further against the wall.

“You… you’re too…” the words seem lost in his mind, his shallow breaths growing more erratic as your palm feels his racing heart, his forehead pulling back from the wall. “Too… perfect.”

With the final husky word, his lips find yours again as his hand tugs your chin up to meet his mouth. It’s different from before: just forceful and passionate, but with an inexplicable affection, conveyed by the way his hand traces along your jawline, thumb softly caressing your cheek as your lips continue to move against his.

Your arms wrap around his neck, tenderly pulling your body closer to his without breaking the kiss. He responds almost immediately, both hands moving to your hips as he moves you into him, grinding himself against you.

Your breath hitches as he continues, shifting his thigh between your legs and granting you more friction. He rocks you back and forth, upper body still pressing you against the wall.

One of his hands moves around your hips, running along the bottom of your thigh as he tugs your leg up, hand fingers resting along the inside of your knee and pulling it to the side of his body. His hips move against yours again, the newfound angle drawing more soft moans from your lips.

Those sounds were his final straw, his other hand immediately grabbing your other thigh and pulling you off the ground and against his body. His lips never leave yours, the kiss growing deeper and more desperate as his patience wears thin, evident by his bulge now pressed against your hips.

He pulls you away from the wall, now urgently stumbling towards the desk which you had left, hands kneading into your skin. Your body feels as though it’s on fire, the feeling of your back being slammed onto the desk barely registering as your senses focus on the friction between your legs as Abbacchio grinds down on you.

He quickly lifts a hand to haphazardly shove aside the assortment of office supplies and technology hindering your ability lie flat, the monitor in particular making a crashing sound as it hits the wooden floor. He pulls you by the front of your shirt back up to him, your mouth smashing against his so hard and desperately you swear it’ll leave a bruise tomorrow.

His forearm rests gently on the desk beside your head as he situates his body between your legs again, tugging you down so your hips are flush with his own. He lets out a soft moan as you wrap your legs around him, the feeling of his muscles tensing on top of you leaving a shiver running down your spine.

“Off, now,” Abbacchio’s deep voice commands with fervor, already beginning to tug at your shirt. You barely have time to lift your arms as he strips it off of you, tossing it to the side with surprising forcefulness.

Without wasting a second, his hand slips under your bra, cupping your breast and making your breath catch in your throat. He uses his other hand to tilt your head back against the desk, now nipping at the sensitive skin below your jaw.

Your body is taught with desire, the feeling of his hand beginning to press and squeeze your skin only heightening the sensation. Your back arches as you feel his hot breath against your neck, his free hand moving behind you to unclip your bra.

As it falls to the side, he pulls back for the first time, eyes roaming across your body with appreciation and an undertone of frustration. His chest heaves as a soft sound catches in his throat, eyes eventually trailing up to meet yours in the moonlight, pupils dilated with hunger.

“Perfect,” he grumbles under his breath, the flattering word spoken with a hint of vexation. You open your mouth to speak but are silenced by the feeling of him unzipping your pants, already pulling them off of you, with your underwear quickly following behind.

You gasp as the cold air hits your skin, heightened by the feeling of him spreading your legs once again. He settles between them, leaning over you with a forearm beside your head, his hand beginning to stroke the hair along your scalp.

His other hand drifts downwards, touch gentle and light as he teases his way along your sternum and stomach. You swallow in anticipation, eyes looking up at his as you bite your lip, silently praying that he can see how badly you need him without having spoken a word.

His gaze grows hazy, his eyes shutting for a brief moment as if controlling himself, before his fingers finally travel lower, right where you want them.

He lets out a soft gasp as he feels you, before mumbling something incomprehensible under his breath. As he begins to move his fingers against you, you find your head digging further back against the hard wood of the desk, your hand coming up to grip his shoulder.

Softly, he slips a finger into you, his knuckles curling gently to find the right spot. You gasp soft and squirm under him, your fingers digging more tightly into him. His other hand quickly finds its way to your chin, his elbow still resting on the table as he jerks your head back to face him, his eyes staring deep into yours.

“You’re going to look at me,” he whispers demandingly before his finger begins to move in and out of you, his thumb shifting to press against your clit.

You moan softly, eyes squeezing shut as you shiver in pleasure; his grip on your chin tightens as his fingers pause yet again.

“I said, look at me,” he hisses, his breath tickling your lips. You slowly open your eyes again, meeting his gaze as your body shivers in returned anticipation.

He continues his ministrations, fingers now moving quicker and deeper inside of you as you force your eyes to remain open, studying his features: the slight parting of his lips, his darkened eyes, the flush on his pale cheeks.

It’s now that you can really see the effect you’ve had on him, even in the low light. His eyes are half lidded, desperate and needy but somehow still frustrated. The soft purple of his lipstick is nearly gone from his lip, the edges smeared messily like watercolors.

You gasp as he pulls his fingers out of you, trailing up your folds before resting on your lower stomach. The emptiness almost hurts, the aching in your body returning as you crave more of his touch.

His lips quirk into a smirk, the expression almost feeling belittling as you lie beneath him, your naked form contrasting his fully clothed one.

“Please,” you whimper softly, biting your cheek in embarrassment as the words leave your mouth.

He scoffs slightly, pushing off of you as the smug expression remains plastered across his face. You sit up, watching as he removes his belt, the sound of metal hitting the floor almost electrifying, the anticipation nearly drawing a sound from your lips.

With an almost evil tantalization, he begins to strip, removing each piece of clothing slowly and with intent, eyes never leaving yours. He watches carefully as you study him, watching as his toned muscles contract as he moves, traveling down just in time to watch him tug at his own boxers.

His demeanor is different now, the anger and desperation from before morphing into a possessive dominance. The boxers drop to the floor, pooling at his ankles and leaving him completely exposed to your wandering eyes.

His weight is on you again within a mere second, his bare skin pressing against yours, the heat of your bodies mingling as he captures your lips into another kiss. You moan softly, indescribably desperate for him as you wrap your legs around his hips again, tugging him closer against you.

Sounds of pleasure fill the small room as he rubs against you, grinding his hips against yours, a final tease before the main show. Your pleading whimper is followed by a breathless beg, the words swallowed as he continues to kiss you with hunger.

He finally positions himself, his hand moving to your hip as he holds your body in place, lips not breaking apart from yours. Gasping against your mouth, his forehead presses against you as he finally slides into you in a single, fluid motion.

You feel a wave of pleasure wash over you, the sensation growing more intense as he begins to move against you, the weight and motion seemingly pushing you further into the desk. Unable to stifle the string of moans that fall from your lips, your hand finds the back of his head, gripping desperately into his hair as your breath caresses his face.

“F-fuck… fuck you,” he whispers, voice cracking in passion as his fingers tighten around your hip, sinking further into your skin. He continues to thrust into you with the smoldering passion of pent-up frustration, movements desperate and disheveled but leaving you a crumbling mess beneath him. It’s electrifying, the feeling of his skin on yours, the sensations of his hands along your body, desperately grasping at you as if he can’t control himself.

He shifts his hand from your hip, running it down to your thigh before hoisting your leg up, hooking your knee around his shoulder. Without giving you a second to adjust, he thrusts harder into you, the new angle sending your head lulling back into the wood, your hair tangling as you squirm and gasp.

Your hands grip desperately at the desk, fingers finding a series of files and feeling them crumple under your forceful touch.

As one of his hands rests on your thigh, keeping your leg held over him, the other wanders across your stomach and up to your chest, giving your breast a squeeze without disrupting the erratic motion of his hips. He groans your name softly, over and over, the words spilling out like a familiar stream, as if second nature.

You feel the pleasure beginning to culminate, the heat building as his hips continue to snap rhythmically forward.

“Don’t… don’t you dare… not yet,” Abbacchio commands through shallow breaths, his pace never faltering.

“I’m- I can’t… I can’t,” you gasp softly, body taught with tension already as you balance on the edge of release, trying desperately to hold on.

He pulls out of you, not even giving you enough time to gasp as he grabs you by the waist, flipping you over on the desk. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel your chest hit the wood and your feet hit the floor, your hands instinctively reaching out again, desperate to hold onto something.

A quiet grumble of need fills your ears, paired with the sensation of fingers tracing along your spine, traveling down before gripping your hips.

You hear a deep sigh before feeling the sensation of him slipping inside you again, your trembled moan filling the silence of the room. He wastes no time, already beginning to move again, arguably with more force than before.

He presses his palm down into your back arching your back further and causing a string of curses to leave his lips. Your eyes screw shut and your fingers grip the edge of the desk, unable to focus on anything other than the heat continuing to build in your body, seemingly freezing your other senses.

You can’t take it anymore; the sounds of his groans, only growing louder, in combination with the sensation of his hand now grazing across your body, nearly sends you over the edge.

Another gasp catches in your throat as his hand slips under your body again, his finger slipping between your folds as his hips continue to snap against you. His touch is firm and slightly careless, clearly inebriated by pleasure.

“You… you’d better…” Abbacchio’s mumbling grows more desperate and incoherent with every passing second, his pace speeding up as his finger continues to move against you.

His name rolls of your tongue, becoming louder and more husky as you reach your climax, your body shuttering softly against the desk and seemingly directing him through his release as well. His hips slow, body almost collapsing on top of yours, his chest now pressed against your back and leaving you pinned against the desk.

He sighs softly, head almost nuzzling into your hair as his hand finds the side of your waist, caressing it gently as he continues to lie on top of you. You hear his breaths subsiding, the rising and falling of his chest against you growing less erratic and more peaceful.

You swallow, blinking as you catch your breath and begin to relax against the wood, the weight of his body on yours offering a strange sense of contentment. His free hand glides up your arm, fingers tracing along your skin before reaching your hand. He slides his palm up your wrist, eventually intertwining his fingers with your own before rubbing tender circles along your skin with his thumb.

You’d hate to break the silence. And what could you even say?

Perhaps it is better to appreciate the moment for what it is, with the cold moonlight now a dim flickering through the shutters, his warm breath against your neck, a feeling of drowsiness tugging at your serene consciousness. Whatever feeling of frustration, pent up feelings of lust and passion that were feeling before, seemed to melt away with the night. This current feeling, the lingering intensity of emotion and sensation, alongside the tranquility and silence of your surroundings, could only be described by one whispered, frustrating, and even desperate word.

Perfect.

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twistedlovelines · 2 months ago

Note

(Waddles in here at 4am like the insomniac I am)

Forgot to mention last ask— I got fired since you were last 'really active', lol.

As a vers switch, I tend bounce between sub & dom thoughts (and lean towards Yuu's circumstances). However, consider the following: being a sugar baby for some of the boys (given that Yuu is broke & most would have more money than them)... only for them to realize that sometimes, the companionship you provide can come in different forms. When y'all started talking about it, you agreed that he would take the lead more. However, after a particularly stressful period of time, you offer em comfort in the form of taking control & getting em fucked out of their minds.

Need to see their eyes rolling back, cheeks damp with tears, drooling as they're unintelligibly mumbling about how "they can't take anymore" even tho he's cum so much already— oh, you're shooting blanks at this point? I guess we can take a break. You did so good, sweetheart.

—🐈‍⬛

!! i hope you're doing ok babe :(( hopefully u can rest in the meantime, but ik the job markets Rough rn

wc: 850-ish

tags: (gn! reader, nsfw, mdni, overstimulation, sub! Azul, “baby” used for Azul)

yessss i can see this happening with azul in particular!!! after all, he has his needs but. not really the desire nor time to start up a proper relationship. besides, how could he resist such a tempting opportunity sitting in front of him? the ramshackle prefect, with little to nothing to their name but that broken down dorm, their cat, and the clothes on their back...of course he wants to help you! he's a businessman through and through, and letting such a precious opportunity go would be a waste.

he's seen the way you look at him, the flicker of desire in your gaze as your eyes skirt over his figure. assessing him.

he asks you to give him hand jobs first. nothing fancy- just a way for him to get work done faster when he's holed up in his office late at night. its nice, he thinks, when you neatly clean yourself up before leaving without him even needing to say a word.

its different, tonight.

He's been in his office more than his bedroom as of late, despite his dedication to sleeping properly (business cannot prosper on a weary mind, after all). Yet a recent lack of revenue (due to the nature of the first years being less competent than last years') has forced him to manage the fallout himself.

It's unbecoming of him. His blazer has been haphazardly thrown over a guest chair, and his hair's gone askew, his hands having run through them in an attempt to self-soothe.

Still, Azul's never been great at soothing himself.

It's Jade who calls you. Politely asks you to attend to Azul since he seems to be too busy to call you himself. Says a break might do him some good- something to get things off his mind.

You agree easily once he mentions giving you a bonus on top of what Azul usually pays you: a favor.

It's suspicious, but you take it anyways. Favors from Jade of all people are rare, and what he's asking for isn't exactly demanding. Azul's not exactly difficult to please.

Not when it comes to your touch.

You slip in easily enough, the spare key Azul had given you coming in handy. He doesn't seem to notice your presence at first, mumbling something along the lines of putting any papers in the guest chair. With a fond sigh, you make your way to drape yourself over the back of his chair.

"Aw, have you been working too much? Poor thing," you coo.

He jolts up in surprise, face snapping to yours as his eyes widen. His hair, having fallen from his signature appearance, moves easily as you brush it aside to place a kiss on his forehead. Azul melts under the soft touch, but freezes a second later.

“Did Jade call you?”

“Maybe.”

Without skipping a beat, you move to settle in his lap, running your hands down his arms to settle them around your waist.

“Still, it’s been a while since you’ve called me. I’ve missed you, you know,” you purr, loosening his tie.

“I’ve been- ah- busy,” he retorts breathily. The pressure of your lower half gently grinding against his own is delicious, but with how busy he’s been, he’s far more sensitive than usual.

“Since when are you not?”

He feels your mouth smile against his throat as you pepper love bites along the pale skin. The heat of your skin is delightful under his fingers, and he moves them under your shirt to skim along the curve of your spine.

A soft moan escapes him as you roll your hips against his with a particular force, blunt nails digging into the fat of your hips instinctively.

“Already close, Azul?” You tease, nipping the lobe of his ear.

This is your favorite part of having sex with Azul, you think.

He huffs, turning his head to the side. A pretty blush has bloomed across his cheeks, the color complimenting his silvery lashes. His bottom lip is swollen from his efforts to stifle his moans- despite his office being thoroughly soundproof. You cup his cheek with affection and sigh as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking comfort on the edge of his release.

“That’s alright baby, you can cum.”

A peek of tongue flashes out of his mouth at your words, and desire curls hot in your gut as you watch him lick at your palm in an attempt at self-soothing, hips rutting unsteadily against yours.

You let him continue like that for a moment before withdrawing your hand and kissing him properly, shushing his whines.

"Oh? Still have some tension in you, Azul? Maybe cumming a few more times will help with that.” He shivers at your words, baring his neck to you as you lave your tongue over a hickey you had left on his neck. Only an incoherent mumble makes it through his lips, but its damning all the same.

“Good.”

reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

#azul ashengrotto x reader #twst x reader #twst smut #twisted wonderland x reader #moth.flutters #🐈‍⬛ anon #musings.by.lamplight

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nofingjustaninchident · 10 months ago

Text

⛧° Cooking classes with Uncle Leo

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

content: leo valdez x fem!reader blurb

warnings: probably cursing, bad spanish, not proofread. ig that's it?? lmk!!

a/n: i didn't really like this, but i'm posting it anyways lol. dedicated to covey and @/pinkdiorluvr cuz i know they both love leo hehehe

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

You never learnt how to cook. A disturbed childhood with a shitty mortal dad was not the best place to get cooking lessons. Or to learn anything, on that matter.

The point is, cooking skills aren’t something you possess, and that annoys you beyond limits. That took you to asking your best friend, Leo Valdez, for cooking classes. Which he immediately accepted. I mean, who wouldn’t want to teach your crush how to cook?

"So, when can I go to your house?” You asked, which made him snap back to reality from just admiring your features.

“Uh... my house?” He asked, as he completely forgot what you guys were previously chatting about. He was too busy with noticing how the freckles coated your cheeks, and how your black hair framed your face in the prettiest way possible. Oh, he was down bad.

“Are you even listening to me right now, Leo?” You asked, waving your hand in front of his face.

“Uh, yeah, ‘course I am. You were talking about the... cooking classes, right?” He asked, a sheepish smile making his way to his lips. You just rolled your eyes.

“Yes, I am. When can I come to your house, hm?” You asked again.

“Tomorrow at seven sounds good to you?” He asked.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” You answer, smiling softly as well.

“You’re gonna learn how to make the perfect pasta alla carbonara, my dear apprentice. It's one of my specialties.” He said, passing an arm across your shoulders and pulling you to him.

Before you could even pull away so you could leave, he planted a kiss with a loud ‘mwah’ to it and darted off, laughing. You were left confused, blushing and smiling as a toddler who just got a pack of candy.

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

Leo stood in his kitchen, a grin plastered on his face as he waited for his best friend’s arrival. He was looking forward to it, since he knew that it was a chance of absolutely zero percent that this whole class didn’t end in absolute chaos.

He leaned against the counter, tapping his fingers impatiently, trying to figure when you’d finally come, what clothes you’d be wearing, what shoes you’d wear and in which way your hair would be. Would it be down? Would you put it in a ponytail? A bun? A braid?

Oh gods, he was such a sucker for that damned daughter of Poseidon.

Eventually, he heard the rhythmic knock on the door, telling him that you were finally there, much to his happiness.

“Come on, Valdez, it’s freezing out here!” You complained, just when he finally opened the door and you barged inside, escaping the snow from the outside world. You were in a black coat, wine-red leggings, gloves and a cute scarf so your nose didn’t get too cold. “Finally! Thought you’d leave me out there to die.”

“I’d never do that, princesa. I mean, at least not today, I need an assistant.” He said jokingly, poking your shoulder and teasing you as you took your coat off.

“I’m gonna punch you, I swear to all the gods that I know.” She threatened. He just smiled and walked towards the kitchen, with you following right behind him. “So, what’re you gonna teach me today?”

“We’re gonna make the best pasta ever – carbonara!” He said happily as he pointed at the counter, which was filled with ingredients for the dish – bacon, eggs, flour and cheese were neatly organized in the counter, ready to be turned into a meal.

“If this goes wrong, I'm ordering a happy meal.” You complained, putting the things you brought to make your favorite dessert, a classic that you learnt with a Brazilian friend of yours – Brigadeiro. It's actually the only thing that you can cook without burning down the whole house.

“First, we gotta make the pasta.” The latino said, and you grimaced.

“Why do we have to make it? Isn't it easier to just, you know, buy the pasta and cook it?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s easier. But making it is so much fun!” He said, with a smile on his face, and started pouring flour on the counter, making a small tower and soon making a hole in it. Then he stopped and looked at you.

“What? Is there something on my hair?” You asked, brushing off your hair, which made Leo laugh.

“No, no. I need you to grab six eggs and crack them here.” He said, gesturing towards the bowl.

“Oh.” You mumbled and picked up the bowl, cracking the eggs in it and being extra careful with the shell. When you finished, you looked at him with puppy eyes. “What now?”

“Put them here.” He said, gesturing to the hole in the flour. You nodded and poured the eggs there. “Now, you washed your hands, right?” You nodded again. ��Great. Now, you have to mix the eggs and the flour until we have a smooth dough; the pasta!”

You just nodded and put your hands to work. It was cute, since you didn’t seem to know what you were doing, and it was just so cute the way you were unsure on whether you were doing the right thing or not.

“You’re doing great, y/n/n.” He assured. If you looked up, you’d see a proud smile on his face.

After a few minutes of squeezing and mixing the dough, it was finally ready. You looked up at Leo’s face, a proud smile on your face and shining eyes. Maybe cooking wasn’t really that bad, after all. Not if you had a good teacher and friend around.

He was starstruck. He couldn’t even move. You were just so pretty, flour all over your arms and hands, a little spot on your cheek white from when you rubbed the back of your hand on your face. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you in that moment.

But he knew he couldn’t. He shouldn’t do it. Couldn't risk his friendship with you.

And yet you were so tempting, so pretty like that. In his kitchen, with his apron – which was slightly too big for your tiny frame – and with him.

“So, what do we do now?” You asked, interrupting the trance he was in. He shook his head and blushed, embarrassed to be caught like that.

“Uh... the- the eggs. We need to make the eggs.” He said, blushing after getting caught staring at you. “You can whisk the yolks while I cook the bacon. Is that alright with you?”

“Mhm. You just need to teach me how to separate the yolks.” You said, with a smile.

You two continued the cooking, with Leo cooking the bacons till they were golden brown and crispy while you whisked the egg yolks and the cheese together. It was a fun night, where you ate the food you made – which was delicious, by the way – and had fun with your best friend.

The only out of the ordinary thing was that the whole time you were there, the only thing you wanted was to jump on Leo’s lap and kiss the hell out of him.

And his train of thought was not that far away from yours.

Don't get me wrong, he loved to spend platonic time with you, of course. But he really, really wanted to kiss you.

‘Oh, for my father’s sake, what I wouldn’t give to kiss her.’

“...what?” You asked, your face clearly redder with his – more than sudden – confession.

You never thought he’d want to kiss you, much less give yourself the hope that maybe someday that’d happen. No, it was selfish, and you knew – or at least thought – that he’d never ever like his best friend.

But here he was, saying how much he’d give in exchange for a kiss.

“Oh, shit- I said that out loud, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, Y/n, you can really pretend this never happened, I just-” AAAAAND he was rambling. Again. So, the easiest way out of that situation was, obviously, shut him up with a kiss.

He immediately melted. His hands stopped flying around his face and went to graze your neck and waist, unsure, but ready to search.

It was one of the best kisses you’ve ever had, and it was definitely the most awaited one. His lips were cracked and raspy, and he tasted sweet like the juice you had.

When you finally pulled away, both of your cheeks were red and there was a smile playing on both of your lips.

“I kinda love you.” You admited.

“Good, ‘cause i love you too, princesa.”

#all my love 🍀#postcards from leah #leo valdez #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x reader #cooking classes with uncle leo is up huh #pjo hoo toa #pjo #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader

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lloydfrontera · 1 year ago

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You know, regarding Lloyd's achievement in history and whether ordinary citizens know him or not made me crave post canon modern au.

Imagine seeing an in universe fanfic authors notes in ao3 or twitter crying about how they simply wanted to write a story set in Lloys time but they just keep diving into rabbit holes.

Kinda like

"So i was writing an historical au set in Alician era where the MC had a detour in Cremo and he was admiring a statue by the sea with a local explaining its history. Of course, I needed to do some research only to found out that Lloyd Frontera, YES, THAT Lloyd Frontera who made the Pantara railroad defeated some sea monster, nearly died and got statue for it"

Maybe someone from Beneto Kingdom being so confused because all he learned from history in school (Beneto history) is that Lloyd is just some brilliant engineer so he got specially confused on why in the movie he was watching set in Alician era is Lloyd fighting a goddamn bone dragon.

I'm interested on how scholars and political figures bemoan and analyse Lloyd's action and achievement but ordinary people's Internet discourse could be so much fun as well.

Javier and Lloyd getting the Alexander and Haphaestion treatment on whether they were lovers or not. The discourse would be so toxic lol.

oh my god forget changing the history of civil engineering forever, sparking the nastiest discourse ever on history/fandom internet forums is lloyd's true greatest achievement akshfksdg

he's the go to historical domain character used to set the time period for a historical movie/book/series. he's the guy writers insert to give their work a more period accurate vibe. everyone knows just enough about him to make really passionate history nerds very angry about all the inaccuracies and made up facts that are taken as common knowledge.

i'm thinking people of completely different online circles all knowing about lloyd in some capacity but regarding completely separate facets of his life and work and being so surprised when they accidentally find yet another whole field lloyd revolutionized. like.

a sword nerd who's really into the concept of the asrahan core technique and knows perfectly well that lloyd helped invent it getting gobsmacked about the fact that's the same guy that laid the ground for modern sewer systems.

a fan of historical romance stories who is used to seeing lloyd as a fun cameo in the background of stories set in the alician period being really confused when they open their book on thermodynamics and see there's a whole chapter dedicated to a method lloyd figured out to create ice without the need of magic.

a train enthusiast who is really fascinated by the rudimentary switchback system lloyd frontera implemented when the concept of a train wasn't even known in the empire being completely dumbfounded when their friends invite them to see a movie about that one time lloyd frontera and his knight defeated a knight of hell in namaran.

i think it's definitely a meme to post "so i was doing research for my asfahan au and went on a rabbit hole and guess who fucking built the qanat that's widely regarded as the only reason the kingdom didn't fall into civil war. take a wild fucking guess" "was it lloyd frontera" "IT WAS FUCKING LLOYD FRONTERA OF COURSE IT WAS"

i'm also certain there would be some guys who think he's overrated and people should really stop talking so much about him when there's so many other historical figures who are just as interesting and not as recognized 🙄. to which people immediately go "mad cause your history blorbo didn't defeat a bone dragon aren't you" at them

Javier and Lloyd getting the Alexander and Haphaestion treatment on whether they were lovers or not. The discourse would be so toxic lol.

they definitely get the alexander and hephaestion treatment you are so correct. they're also the achilles and patroclus of the modern magentano girlies. there's a bunch of 'queer retellings' of their lives. they're the go to example for homoerotic friendships. there's a bunch of edits that mix historical paintings of them with ship fanart with that 'history hates lovers' song playing over them. dudebros get really angry about it. llojavi truthers pull out their 20 pages long annotations that start with "they fucking slept in the same bedroom for years" and it only gets worse.

there's one poor person online who just really fucking wants to know how and why lloyd frontera changed faces one day out of the blue with no one ever explaining it. there's no official records. no member of the royal family ever made a statement about it. why is everyone acting like the frontera family didn't have one eldest son for 25-29 years and one day suddenly had a completely different one. what the fuck is going on.

so. yeah. i'm a little obsessed with this concept actually ajkshdksa

#hey i got an ask #myfracturedlife #tged #the greatest estate developer #lloyd frontera #llojavi #<- i guess??

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tarnishedsilverjewelry · 2 months ago

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hope you’re doing well! I fell in love at first sight w your writing so I thought it was abt time to have my first req on this app XD

so I was thinkin abt a reader who’s been isekai’d into the MK1 universe from our reality (she’s a MK1 fan :D). She’s mostly recovered from her shock and has managed to convince Liu Kang (and Geras) of her origins with undeniable proofs like her knowledge of previous timelines and Kang’s role in this one. It’s her third night in this place and she’s having an ugly breakdown bc as much as she loves this universe and its ppl, she dearly misses her family and friends and believes she might’ve done them a grave injustice (she died a brave death tho) and even though she’s determined to train in kombat and help keep this timeline’s peace, she’s scared to let everyone down here as well.

I need Liu Kang basically being a parental figure for her and he comforts her as only he can bc only he can really understand her. I hope this wasn’t too long of a read lol

thankies!

A shoulder to cry on

A/N: Almost called this ‘the father that stepped up’ tbh as a joke but I changed my mind last minute lol. ALSO THIS PROMT IS SO GOOD BY THE ELDER GODS

Warnings: Angst(?), also Fem!Reader so if you don’t like that don’t read it, and maybe ooc Liu Kang

Liu Kang was many things, God of Fire, Protector of Earthrealm, friend to many, and very very aware of his life before becoming a god.

Of course he’d had many nights to himself over the years, drunk and wailing pathetically about missing his friends, or nights where he couldn’t sleep because his life and battles faced before god-hood frightened him

So when a girl, about 12 appeared in a flash of light before himself and Geras while discussing the growing disruptions to his self proclaimed ‘era of peace’ ….yeah he wasn’t expecting that

When fighting positions were assumed you..surrendered saying ‘you’re a fire god I don’t stand much a chance with pepper spray’ a part of him was glad you were self aware, but still seemed over frightened and..giddy?

“Oh are we at the part where you find out Shang Tsung is back?” How the fuck did you know that? Pardon his French but you were the last person he’d expect to know. Mainly because he’d only just found out. “How do you know that?”

One very long and very intense fight interrogation later that revealed things he had thought nobody else knew (the blonde bob to be exact) he was convinced. That and your profound knowledge of what would happen.

You decided to not ‘spoil’ anything outright for fear of disrupting the timeline further, and as much as he wished to know what he could avoid, Liu Kang knew it would happen eventually. But your subtle hints to guide him through choices were appreciated greatly though

He allowed you to stay with him in his housing, but wanted you not to disturb the monks or his champions. You shrugged it off and asked if he had any books laying around.

Nothing seemed wrong with you to him. At first, at least. On the second night, he walked past your room to fetch a glass of water and saw you awake and rubbing your eyes sniffling. He asked about the next morning, you shrugged it off with an easy smile.

The third night however, was different. A strange had settled into his stomach, and left him unable to sleep. To soothe himself, he walked towards the kitchen to brew himself a glass of tea

On his short walk to the kitchen, he was met with the sounds of you crying. Walking into your room he saw you curled up on the bed sobbing into your hands. “Y/n? What troubles you?” He asked briskly walking over to your bed

Your dedication to kombat was inspiring and you learned quickly, and you were always the first to smile and offer someone help up (after the finally allowed you to train amount them). You managed to endear yourself to even the toughest warrior, and changed the course of his timeline as a whole

Your subtle hints of Bi hans possible betrayal allowed him to confront the Grandmaster and remind him of his duties and Shang Tsungs lying. You helped him and Geras put an early end to any disruptions to the ear of peace he had hand crafted

“Nothing..it’s nothing. I’m fine.” Liu Kang gave you a flat look and cupped your round face. Your eyes told him all he needed to know, and the quiver of your lips only solidified his worries.

The smooth lines of youth on your face and the way your eyes held such a tiredness concerned him. With a gentleness he hadn’t acted on before, he pulled you into his chest and rubbed your back. Almost instantly you started sobbing again.

“Tell me what troubles you, please. I can try to help.” Your sobs lessened and you muttered “My little brother had a soccer game yesterday. It was the last of the season and he-he was so excited for me to go. My friends wanted to go the craft store tomorrow. My grandma was going to teach us to knit. My parents anniversary party is in two weeks. My dog is about to start bite training. My cat was supposed to get out of surgery today. My sister finally got to buy a pet snake like she always wanted.” You listed between sobs and harsh breaths

Liu Kang continued to rub your back and you finally admitted “My friends and family..are all going ok without me. And I’m going to miss out on being apart of their lives because I don’t know when or how I’m going to get back. Life will go on without me. They will go on without me.”

Understanding flooded through him and all ways of comfort left him. “Oh Y/n..I understand better than most. When I first became a god, I felt honored by the mantle but then the eons began to pass and I was alone. The friends and family I’d built were worlds away. And unfortunately, this pain will linger. But you mustn’t let it consume you, because they will always have you in their hearts and you will always have them in your heart.” You nodded, closing your eyes tightly

The tears had stopped by now, but you still felt the great ache of hurt in your heart. “If we never get you back then you will always be welcomed here by me, no matter what. I will always try to help you when I can. I promise, you can always lean on me. Okay?” “Okay.” You mumbled, wrapping your arms around his torso. Smiling softly, Liu Kang settled you and himself in your bed. He covered you with the covers and watched over you with a fond smile as sleep overtook you

Liu Kang meant to leave you alone; but when he woke in your bed with you drooling on his arm he decided to just let you sleep. You were only a girl, who’d had an exhausting night and needed plenty of rest. After washing his hands and brushing his teeth and hair he started on breakfast for the both of you

#mk1 x reader #mortal kombat 1 #god liu kang #liu kang mk1 #liu kang x reader #he’s the father that stepped up fr #tarnishedsilverjewelry

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crescentmel · 6 months ago

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i watched the x-men films for the first time ever here are my thoughts *spoilers obviously* :D

small backstory: i was going to go watch Deadpool & Wolverine however i have seen the previous deadpool movies but i’ve never watch the x-men films at all, my knowledge of that universe is minimal. my coworker suggested i at least watch Logan before watching Deadpool & Wolverine so i did.

Logan is easily one of the best Marvel films i have ever watched in my life, like top 3 films for sure it was amazing im still thinking about this movie weeks later. so i watch Deadpool & Wolverine and realize im low key obsessed with logan so might as well watch all the x-men films ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ALSO I HAVE NO KNOWLEDGE FROM THE COMICS DONT COME FOR ME

The Original Trilogy

Overall i enjoyed the first two films, i think The Last Stand might be my least favorite of the whole franchise im not gonna lie

i’m just gonna say it, i was so not here for the Logan & Jean romance, like im kind of a hater so if this upsets you than this post is not for you lmao

ADORED JEANSCOTT WITH MY HEART AND SOUL !!! THEYRE SO FUCKING CUTE !!!!

Right of the bat, Logan & Jean’s romance felt SO forced. like it wasn’t believable for me, in the first movie it felt like Logan decided he was in love with Jean, not that he is actively falling in love with her, it was kinda weird

Meanwhile you can like clearly tell that Scott & Jean are in love with each other, but it feels like Logan’s character is just disregarding that

I understand in the comics it’s supposed to be a love triangle of sorts, i just think that if they wanted to do that for the films they could have portrayed it better

Ororo is an angel i love her

charles & eric need to make out

scott summers you ball of sunshine

i’m glad the rogue crush thing died in the first film bc ohmygod that was hard to watch

my favorite is X2 of this trilogy i really liked the plot and how it expanded more into Logan’s story

The Wolverine Trilogy

Origins wasn’t like, super terrible? i guess? my least favorite of this trilogy for sure though

i liked the plot twist that his girlfriend of 6 years was manipulating him, i didn’t see it coming, i was like WOW that’s fucked up

was disappointed he forgave her like wtf 😭

deadpool thing was weird i didn’t like that

good film to learn logan’s backstory, his brother was so fucking annoying though

The Wolverine was a decent film, if ur looking for an x-men film that’s more action centric than mutant centric this is your film

it felt like a wolverine side quest lol, nothing crazy going on, but i liked it more than Origins

logan is just tired

snake lady’s powers were cool

this girl is never going to see logan again so at least she got what she could

it goes without saying that Logan 2017 is the best film in the whole x-men/fox franchise

i could definitely make a whole post going into a deep dive of Logan but i’ll just keep it short

Logan’s dedication to taking care of Charles warms my heart in a way you cannot imagine, he truly cares so deeply for that man, charles gave him the opportunity of having a new family and i feel like logan will always be grateful for him

Logan & Laura :’)

it was like watching Logan go from only caring about kids in a “i’m a teacher” way to seeing Laura in a “i’m her caretaker now” kind of way, like there was a shift in his character that he wasn’t expecting

my little family of three that definitely lived happily ever after

my favorite scene of the whole film was when Logan realizes that it was his clone self that stabbed Charles, and his immediate gut reaction was to say “It wasn’t me” and to reassure Charles that Logan would NEVER do that

so that Charles would never die thinking one of his closest friends (AND SON FIGURE) would ever betray him like that and kill him

LIKE THAT WAS SO IMPORTANT TO LOGAN, HE DIDNT WANT CHARLES TO DIE THINKING HE KILLED HIM ;_________;

Logan 2017 the film that you are

X-Men Prequel Films

oh boy here go

right off the bat i’m going to say Days of Future Past exceeds all four of these films, so fucking good, my favorite after Logan

but yeah First Class wasn’t like, terrible per say, i just found myself a little bored ngl

absolutely here for eric & charles love story, they’re literally friends to lovers to enemies to still lovers but they’re still enemies i adore it

i liked the character that mystique brought (& jennifer lawrence) but it was just such a jump from the mystique in the first films

also i just think that if eric wants to kill his abuser then he should go for it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just saying charles it was a lil weird u wanted to stop him

i get the premise, setting up the basis of the x-men, but i just found it a little lacking

DAYS OF FUTURE PAST

amazing 10/10 movie, i genuinely enjoyed every second, actually felt like a superhero movie

great balance of logan not knowing what the fuck is going on vs charles knowing exactly what to do next & logan just going along with it i love it

i’ve heard legends of how amazing quicksilver is in these films and this went beyond my expectations, fantastic character AND amazing showcase of his powers, the writers cooked on this, also makes me want to rewatch wandavision bc i didn’t appreciate his character enough son i’m so sorry

prison breaking out eric sequence was amazing

there’s so much more but just overall amazing film

apocalypse was definitely something? i mean it was probably difficult to follow up days of futures past so i can’t blame them, not like the worst film ever but ….. idk

THINGS I LOVED !! young jean & scott :’) !!!!! genuinely so happy to see the beginning of their friendship & romantic relationship, they’re literally so fucking cute AND young storm omfg a baby 🫶🏾

took me a second to realize it was oscar isaac lol, also OUCH eric’s little family but also like wtf was that death ??? 😭

idk plot was just kinda everywhere, nothing super memorable, also i just found it funny that logan was there for like less that 5 minutes and all he did was grunt lmfao at least he popped off on stryker for the millionth time fuck that guy

uhm dark phoenix

the one and only highlight for me for dark phoenix was once again, jean & scott lmfao

the whole solar flare & alien race thing was kinda weird, they didn’t even explain the alien race thing that well, idk what to even say about this movie

i thought it was weird that hank & eric were suddenly jumping on the “let’s kill jean” train when like they know she didn’t mean to kill raven ??? 😭 like wtf

someone explain the timeline bs to me bc i was surprised that jean “died” AGAIN.

wasn’t the point of futures past that logan now in the present is experiencing the new timeline in which charles, scott, and jean are all alive

so why did jean die in this, does that not defeat the purpose, like she’s alive in the present

or were they trying to plan another prequel film in which she comes back, again. then it’s just a repeating storyline from the og trilogy

anyways it was kinda bad

i don’t even want to talk about The New Mutants i’m gonna be real, it was also bad

and that is my long af reaction to watching all the x-men films for the first time. if you’re reading this and read all my yapping then thank you i really appreciate it lol 🫶🏾 in conclusion, i’m sad i missed out on a whole era of these movies when they were being released (probably bc im avengers obsessed lol) but i’m glad i did watch them now, and now i have a new universe to hyper fixate on lmfao (and logan) amazing movies !! gonna go rewatch Logan now ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

also here is my full x-men movies ranking, deadpool films included:

#sorry this is so long #aha #apologies to any jean logan fans i just couldn’t stand it #jean scott my babies #x men #x men movies #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #jean grey #scott summers #charles xavier #logan 2017 #wolverine #logan wolverine #jeanscott #x men days of future past #deadpool #i should specify that i’m jean logan movie hater idk anything about the comics

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linnetagain · 3 months ago

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I hope you are doing well and thank you for writing some difficult parts of The Season for us. I am so nervous (in a plot-related way) and excited to see what you have in store!

I have a question which I wonder about every time I listen to one of the playlists or read chapter 5. In it, Gale says:

"“There's maybe two songs that I really do associate with particular moments, but that's all,” he says, when the song finishes. “One of them is a Taylor Swift song, too.”"

I am pretty sure that one of them is Slipping Through My Fingers by ABBA, judging by how he skips the song when it plays during training in ch 4, the first day of school photo in the corridor in ch 3, and what he says when Hessie has left the house in ch 17 about how she'll grow up and one day not need him anymore. I bet her first day at school was really difficult for him. They grow up so fast!

Now my question is, assuming Slipping Through My Fingers is one of them, should I be able to work it out from the text so far? I feel like I might just be being dense. It probably doesn't help that I am not that familiar with Taylor Swift's full catalogue (please don't come for me Swifties).

I am not asking for spoilers - in fact if it's going to come up in the story then please don't spoil anything 😂 - but it's actually driving me a bit crackers that I might be missing something.

Thank you so much again for all your hard work and dedication to The Season, it's wonderful, and I feel very privileged to be able to read it ❤️

Oh god I'm nervous too haha!! I'm so flattered that you've been re-reading and paying such close attention omg.

I don't think you'd have been able to work it out don't worry, and tbh I hadn't thought about it in a while!

Gale left Mystra for the last time in late 2022 early 2023 I believe (I don't have the exact timeline off the top of my head and rn I can't remember where I have it written down lol) - so exactly when Midnights was everywhere. I was thinking of that kind of memory you have when you go through a very specific time of your life around a time when a particular song or band are very prominent, and how they end up associated forevermore regardless of whether you intended them to be or not. I'm not a swiftie either but I do remember her voice everywhere that winter!

I don't think I'll ever write the scene, but I have this very clear image of Gale trying to do something normal like standing in a supermarket figuring out how to feed himself, and Bigger Than the Whole Sky playing over it. Especially living in London if you get taxis the cabbies play the radio a lot, and he was being hounded by paps, so the few times he went out cabs would have been how he got between Wyll and Ali's place and the new house when he was buying it and having it done up, and of course the courts. Just imagining that everywhere he went he was followed by this very successful singer when he's wondering if he's just thrown his whole career away, and the 'goodbye goodbye goodbye' refrain over and over. He wasn't in love with Mystra then, but he was definitely still bound up with her and caught up in thinking that he should have been able to save their relationship that had once been everything to him.

And yes, 'Slipping Through my Fingers' reminds him of Hessie.

There's actually a lot of other songs that I listened to while writing particular scenes that didn't get mentioned in the chapters haha. When I eventually finish it I might do a final chapter where I list them all for anyone interested!

#bloodweave #the season

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thecapricunt1616 · 1 year ago

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The Bear & His Honey Chapter 4

Inspo: Quote- “ Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me- I should know. I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door.” Dedication: @daysofyellowroses - bestie thank you for inspiring and encouraging me to write. I haven’t felt more alive and inspired then I have in the past few days writing again. Thank you!! This is for you loveyyyy. Summary: Winnie & Carmy get closer. Have a marg over a mini therapy session, Winnie fixes up Carm’s panic injury. They find out there may just have been a single thread of gold tying them together the entire time. W/C: 5,484 A/N: Oh my lanta y’all!! 2 chapters in one day?! I promise- PROMISEEE tonight I am figuring a master list out, because I (myself) have been struggling to keep things canon to the story by having to scroll and scroll through my page to find each part to see what I said for Winnie, LOL! So get hype for that, I love this chapter even more then the last bc it has more Carmy, but Richie is so fun to write and I can’t wait for he&Winnies friendship to bloom!!! For my canon Carmy continues going to therapy once or so a week / a support group type talk therapy so that is why he shares more than he would in the show. It’s on his one day off so that’s why he is able to continue making it, and he thrives on routine so going once a week keeps him regulated. Warnings for BTC: A little bit of smut, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of vehicular accidents ending in death, mentions of self-harm, mentions of severe injury, negative self-talk, feminine yearning (ofc), fluffy fluff (enough for your teeth to rot out of ur face), panic disorder, mentions of a panic attack, heavy petting, alcohol, mentions of smoking cigarettes, mental health issues, exhausted Carmy LOL

𝒞𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀 𝒪𝓊𝓉 𝑀𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉!

Read Chapter 3

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The door flings open and before I could even get a good look at him his arms were wrapped tightly around my waist, his large hands resting on my rib cage, and thumbs gently rubbing soothing strokes. I gasped a bit in surprise at the contact, his muscular chest pressed to mine. Pulling me tighter and he nuzzles his face in my neck, his hot breath causing goosebumps to appear all over my skin. I inhaled his scent, a bit of his musky spicy cologne still left over after the long day, cigarette smoke, and a day of working, but he didn’t smell bad at all. I would buy a fucking candle of it if I could, and never burn it so it lasts forever.

He needed this hug.

“Thank you f’ comin’, Winnie. I really need a drink, like now” he said quietly and I bit my lip, my hands rubbing soothing circles in the middle of his back. “Course, you think I’d turn down a free drinky-drink from the sexiest little Chef boy in Chicago?” He chuckled into my neck, feeling a small smile press into my skin. “I’m sorry” he pulls away and I finally am able to look at him.

His hair is a mess, cheeks are stained red, his eyes are bloodshot and glazed over like he’d been crying, he rubs the back of his neck and I see a bit of smeared blood over his forearm. “It’s- it’s okay, hard day?” I asked, twiddling my fingers anxiously, worried he was going to ask me to leave and tell me that it wasn’t a good time anymore. “Ye’” he replied in a sigh and I swallowed hard.

“D-did you- sorry,” my voice coming out small and meek. I clear my throat “Was it- not a good time for you? It’s fine, totally, totally fine…should have given my number I guess - but I can-“ I motion my thumb to the door down the hall.

“No! No, please, stay. It’s - it’ll be nice. To like- to see you. I meant sorry about,” he squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head “sorry for like- flinging myself on you?” He says and I giggle, causing him to look at me.

“I love hugs! You give great hugs, is that why your sister calls you Bear? Oh my god!! Wait. This is your- that’s so cool, Carmen! You’re so cool!” I motioned to the restaurant, alluding to the name. “That’s so fuckin cool dude!” He smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets shyly and looking at his feet.

“Thank you, but- uh. No. I’m not…usually a hugger which is why I’m also surprised I did that, guess I needed it. They call me bear cause - well. Don’t poke the bear kinda thing” he said and I took a few steps forward, our toes almost touching and his eyes met mine again. I raise my hand, and gently poke the flower tattoo adorning his left arm with my forefinger and smile. “Gonna bite me?” I quip, lifting my hands and poking short pokes all over his chest and he laughs a bit.

“Y’re cute” he said and I put a final poke on his nose, blush rising to my cheeks at the statement. “And very thirsty. Pour me a drink will you, bartender?” I turned around on the ball of my foot swiftly, walking with pep back into the kitchen and I look back at him, to find his eyes practically undressing me from where I’d left him moments ago. I grin, putting my hands on my hips “You staring at my ass isn’t making me any less thirsty over here, bartender!” I said and he blushes “sorry…sorry”

He comes out and places a hand at the small of my back leading me to the main part of the restaurant and towards the bar “you just - uh…you look really good. I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to get home, I wanted to but - shit just got outta control, Syd forgot about this huge cannoli order and we forgot to get the powdered sugar with the last resupply so I had to make powdered sugar - it was just-” I rub my hand up his arm gently, stopping him and grabbing his attention.

“It’s fine Carmen. You look fine. I’ll admit, a little bit tired. But you worked all day, I’ve been there” I shrug and he nods a bit, “thanks” he said softly walking behind the bar. I get up on one of the bar stools, crossing my legs and resting my chin in my palm looking over the restaurant and tapping my nails on the table. “This place is super nice, Carm, you should be so proud of yourself. It feels fancy but inviting too.” I hum admiring the lights and artwork on the walls.

“Why thank you, we all worked really hard. I’m surprised it came together every day, but super grateful.” He said, taking Patron off of the middle shelf and scooping ice into the mixer, counting to himself as he pours it. “Doesn’t show, you run a tight ship it sounds, Chef” I smiled. He snorts “how would you know? Or is it just the pans from earlier” he said and threw a few slices of jalapeño, lime, and mint in to the cup before closing it tightly and shaking.

“Yes and no, Richie told me, said that you were a good boy today though, and your sister was the one causing trouble” blush creeps into his cheeks. “Ye’ and see what happens when I’m ‘good’ as you told me to do? Shit got fucked” he pours in some club soda and mixes it with a bar spoon before pouring us both a glass. “Mmmm. Was that because you weren’t barking orders, or because something happened out of your control, and you’re blaming yourself?” I asked honestly and he set my glass down in front of me, biting his lip for a moment.

“Everything is out of my fucking control” he muttered and shook his head, as if it was a quiet, painful reminder to himself. “Most things, in most people’s lives, are out of our control” I gently rest my hand over his and he meets my eyes. “The only things you can control is if, and when you fall apart, and how well you glue yourself back together.” I said earnestly and he swallows thickly, nodding.

“I like that..thank you” he said and I nod. “Don’t worry, I won’t charge you- this time. But d’ya think I can get a fancy umbrella or somethin’ for this drink?” I smiled and nudged it toward him, he chuckled, shaking his head “you are somethin’ else, Winnie” he crouches down behind the bar with a grunt.

“Fuck. I’m 26 but my back feels 90” he said and I laughed a bit. “It’s all the cookin’! And being on your feet too damn much, My mom is a massage therapist, you should let me give you a massage sometime.” I said and he got back up, groaning dramatically which made me giggle. “For you, dear.” He drops a little pink umbrella into my cup.

“Oh my goodness you poor thing. Come sit down” I pat the spot next to me and plucked my bag off the seat, hanging it off the back of my chair. He comes around the bar, plopping down in the chair next to me with a sigh of relief. “I will absolutely take you up on your massage offer sometime.” He said, rubbing over his face tiredly and running his hands through his muss of curls before taking a sip of his own drink.

“Please do, I’ll pull out all the stops for ya’, but just so you know- a happy ending comes with a pretty cost” I said flirtatiously and nudged his leg with my boot playfully. He chuckled and looked over at me “yea? Thanks for the heads up I’ll be sure to budget accordingly for my trip to Winnie’s Massage Parlor” he teased and I laughed a bit.

“Yess!! Please do! There’s also Winnie’s salon, Winnie's hospital, and Winnie’s library!! Come by for all your daily needs I’ma’ Jane of all trades” I shrug and take another sip of my drink. “Speaking of” I take his left arm, looking at the inner part near the crook, where 4 large scratches were, done so violently that the skin beneath was turning into a speckled bruise meaning by morning it would be a dark purple.

“What happened?” I ask softly, my finger tip gently brushing over the untouched skin over the smeared, dried out blood below the wound. “Ahh-“ he shakes his head “it’s stupid. It’s not even bad don’t worry about it” he said and I looked at him, concerned. “Did- did Sug-“ he cuts me off quickly “Sugar, would never hurt me.” He said, his tone was deadly serious.

I nodded quickly, swallowing hard. “Okay, Carm, I believe you” I said softly and squeezed his wrist gently. “Will you…let me take care of you- please?” I ask quietly, looking into his eyes, my gaze pleading for a yes.

“So Winnie’s hospital is mobile?” He said with a small teasing smile. I roll my eyes playfully. “Yes, let’s go find the first aid kit, and honestly it’s pretty but like - empty in here and… I dunno” I bit my lip, hoping he got the hint and he nods “sure we - we can uh. Yeah. Let’s go sit in Sugars office. She has a couch” I nodded and hopped off the seat, gasping when the corner of it hooks onto the hem of my skirt as I get down and pulls it up, exposing my backside clad in a lacy red thong through the sheer bum part of my fleeced nylons.

“Oh my god!” I blurt as I quickly pulled it back down, my cheeks on fire, and my heart pounding in embarrassment. I hear Carmen burst out in laughter behind me making my embarrassment grow and I turned around, crossing my arms over my chest, my eyebrows becoming furrowed. “Hey!” I snip “what’s so funny!! Why were you looking peeping tom!” I whine and he covers his mouth to stifle the laughter.

“To make sure your munchkin self didn’t trip off of the stool in those clunky ass boots!! Being a gentleman really paid off for me there” he said and I went over slapping his arm gently with a smile growing on my face. “I guess it’s a good thing I wore panties or I would’ve mooned you” I grab my drink and turn around, a surprised chuckle coming from him.

“Holy shit, you go commando?” He asks, holding the kitchen door open for me “sometimes, she needs to breathe!!” I said with a shrug and pushed my bag up on my shoulder as I followed him back to Sugars office. “But what if you get horny?” He asked and I laughed, nudging him with my elbow. “Dude!! Richie said you were not forward with girls, that’s pretty forward” I set my bag down on sugars desk and he plops down on the big comfy sofa pulling out a recliner on his side and he sighs, closing his eyes.

“Gimme a sec’ this is the first time my feet are up since 1” he said and I sat down next to him, “you haven’t sat down since I left?!” I asked and he shook his head, opening his eyes and head falling to the side on the cushion to look at me. “Mm-mm” he hummed in response. “Where’s the first aid kit? I’ll find it” I said and he rubs his face, thinking.

“Uhhh. Oh there’s one in here actually, go over to the other side of Sug’s desk, it should be tucked there next to the wall” he said and took a sip of his drink. I got up, going where he said and I leaned over, completely forgetting the rules of skirts by mistake. “You’re a fucking tease” he said lowly and my heart pounds, my stomach fluttering wildly, and my core beginning to twitch and throb in excitement.

“What’s not nice about helping a new friend clean up their boo-boo’s?” I asked innocently, a small smile on my lips as I turned and sat down on the couch on the cushion next to him. He smirks “you…are gonna make me crazy” he said softly and closed his eyes, resting his head on the back of the sofa. I opened the kit, taking out hand sanitizer, saline wipes, gauze, and triple antibiotic.

“Wait-“ he said his eyes flickering open “you- you met Richie?” He asks as if I hadn’t been mentioning him since I walked in the door, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “It’s like- the first thing I said when I got here.” I said and he sighs softly. “I’m…sorry.” He finally said, like he was contemplating whether to say more. “That’s ok, you had a hard day” I took his arm gently, laying it across my lap. “What did he say? How bad did he embarrass me?” He questions and I giggle a bit, sanitizing my hands before opening a saline wipe.

“Not at all! He said you’re shy with girls, that he’s surprised you asked me out cause he thinks I’m pretty, and apparently, doesn’t think you are very funny- but I on the other hand, seemed to make him laugh a lot so- got you beat” I teased with a smile as I ever gently wipe over the wounds.

He snorts “well, you are pretty, he’s an asshole but right.” He said and I looked up at him “not many people make me laugh anymore, you seem to, though.” I said honestly, and he tugs his lip between his teeth to catch a grin from taking over his features. “Yea?” He asks quietly with a blush going across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. “Mmhmm” I hum in reply, putting the ointment on and carefully rubbing it in.

It was quiet for a moment before he says “I’m sorry.” Causing me to look up at him, but his gaze was stuck on the ceiling. “This wasn’t - I wanted to do something nice for you and… I’m sorry.” I stop working on his arm “sorry for what, Carm? This is so nice. The drink is really good, thank you for making it, I’m glad to be here.” I said honestly and placed my hand on top his.

His icy blue eyes meet mine, looking over my face slowly and locking on my lips. His eyes flick back to mine when he responds “you just look so pretty, like you should be on a real date. Not here fuckin-“ he sighs, looking down at his arm then back at me. “Dealing with my stupid mistake.” I shook my head and wrapped up his arm with a bandage to keep it clean and dry while he slept and it could scab over.

“This is a real date. You own a restaurant. Carmen. Look at me.” I order and he looks into my eyes. “You, just you, asking me to come see you, to be together, to get to know each other? You are enough. This is a date. An awesome date. I’m having fun, are you having fun?” I asked and he smiled a bit.

“No, but….” He trails off, looking at his lap and I felt my heart physically ache, my face drooping “peace” he finally said “I feel…at peace, with you around. I noticed it when we were outside earlier, I came out for a smoke cause I was about to absolutely loose it on Syd, and I don’t- I- I can’t do that to her. So I went out and I totally forgot my light and then..you were there and I forgot about everything.” He said.

Goosebumps arise on my skin at the admission, the warmth in my chest returning at full force. “And - I thought about you…all day- all-all day. Not like- god I sound like a creep” he takes his arm, rubbing his face in embarrassment. “I thought about you too.” I reply softly. “I thought about you…a lot. Actually.” I bit my lip and his eyes met mine, searching for truth and it was all he found in my locked gaze.

“Not like- I just couldn’t understand how I felt. But the more I think… I do this thing.” He rubs his chin as he thinks. “Learned it in therapy, they said when you can’t figure out how a person or a situation made you feel, you can like think of people and situations that you do know how you feel about, and keep comparing them until you find a match. S-so when I thought of you.” He swallows thickly and I sit up, completely entrenched in listening to him.

“I found that things that gave me the same feelings w-were like…my one day off a week that I don’t have to be here. I think of…the fucking morning I went to Central Park and watched the sunrise and it was so..so quiet. I think- I think” he presses his lips together. “O-of-of Mikey. Of my brother. He’s dead. But. H-he. He protected me a lot, growin’ up. Helped me out. A lot. I felt like when Mikey was around, it was alright. And that’s how I felt earlier. I’m sorry-“ he shakes his head, putting the recliner down and finishing off his drink.

“Why?” I ask and squeeze his hand “that’s…so, so sweet. You make me feel at peace too, unless you’re angry- but I was worried for you and what happened. I’m so happy I make you feel like that, Carmen. Thank you for sharing, may I hug you?” I ask gently and he looks at me a bit surprised. “Y-yea ‘fcourse c’mere” he opened his arms and I wrapped him in a warm embrace. “The way you make me laugh makes me feel the way my brother did when he made me laugh, we were twins. He died.” I said just above a whisper.

He rests his cheek on the top of my head, rubbing soothing circles in my back as I did for him earlier. “I’m so sorry, what was his name?” He asked, equally as quiet. “Chris, Christopher” I felt my lip quiver, that never dulling ache in my chest throbbing at the memory of him.

“Oh, wow” he whispered “Winnie and Christopher” I felt him smiling on my hair “your parents knew what they were doin’ with names, that’s adorable.” He said and I smiled a bit. “Thank you, can you guess what our nursery was?” I look up at him and he raises his eyebrows.

“Hmm.. let me think. Oh! I know, Dumbo?” He says sarcastically and I laugh, closing my eyes and nuzzling my face in his neck “Silly. Winnie the Pooh, I always said it was my room, because they had a big wall sticker of Winnie and all his animal friends, but not one of Christopher since they couldn’t find one. He hated that” I said and his fingers gently rubbed over the spot of bare skin between my skirt and my top. I feel him chuckle a bit “that’s cute” he said.

“How did Mikey…” I trail off, his fingers stilling. “Shot ‘emself” he said plainly and my hug around his torso tightens “I’m so sorry” I whisper in to his skin. “What about Chris?” He asked and I swallowed thickly. “We got in a motorcycle accident. I still can’t talk about it.” I said as evenly and emotionlessly as I could, if I opened that flood gate there was no shutting it.

“Oh- my god. Wow. I’m so sorry, I’m so glad you’re….” He trails off, realizing the other victim was very much not ok in any sense of the word. I sit up, taking my half full drink off the table and drinking it down in 3 big gulps. “Want another?” He asks and I shake my head, “work tomorrow” I said and he nods, “yeah me too” he muttered rubbing over his face.

“Can I…get your number?” I asked and he nodded sitting up “course you can” he said and took his phone out of his pocket, logged in and opened up a new contact screen, offering it to me. “Only if I can have yours” he said with a small smile. “Of course!!” I took it from him.

Winnie 🍯

I put as the contact name, and type in my number, hitting save before handing it back. I do the same for him on my phone and hand it to him, when it’s returned, I see

Carm🐻

I smile, deleting the emoji and switching it for a 🧸 instead. I show him with a tilt of my wrist “cause your awesome hugs.” I said and smiled, saving it again. He blushes, smiling and shaking his head “I think you’re the one who gives good hugs, you smell like honey and you’re all soft.” He said and I giggle. “I’m glad you like my perfume” I said and pushed my hair behind my shoulders.

“I do, it’s very nice. You live around here?” He asks and I nod “2 blocks that-a-way” I point behind us and he raises his eyebrows. “Really, what street?” He asked “Kensington Ave. The brownstones” I said and he chuckled “No shit. I live in the high rise across the way” he said and my mouth drops. “Wow. Work neighbors, and building neighbors, we’ve never met?” I giggle “you've been avoiding me?” I ask and he chuckles “never, uhh. I’m like never home. I go there to sleep for a few hours, and my days off I…sleep…the whole day usually, I usually get home around 1am and leave at like 4ish, sometimes 5 if I sleep in” I raise my eyebrows in disbelief.

“3 hours of sleep and you wonder why you feel 90? You need to sleep Carmen. You’re gonna have a heart attack.” I said and he chuckled. “If I would only be that lucky'' he joked, taking our empty glasses to the kitchen and I followed him “no- i'm serious, like you’re gonna drive yourself nuts.” I said, leaning on the counter watching him wash the glasses.

“I am already there sweetheart don’t worry, been there- ahh let’s see, 20? Maybe 19. So 7 years of insanity give or take.” He said and I giggled, shaking my head. “You are not nuts. A crazy person couldn’t run a restaurant.” I said and he snorted “that speaking is the mind of someone who doesn’t work in a restaurant. No, you have to be a psycho to do this shit. Especially at the level I do it.” He shuts off the sink, putting the cups on the drying rack and leaning on his elbows on the table mirroring me from across.

“I think you’re very, very passionate.” I brush his curls from his eyes “and that you sometimes get in your own way by not allowing people to help you.. which can make things harder” I said and he smiled, amusedly. “How do you already know so much about me, have you been stalking and avoiding me so I don’t find out?” He teases and I laugh. “Shut up, no. I have not. I dunno… like our souls know each other. That’s how I feel.” I shrug, crossing my hands under my chin and looking at him.

“Hmm” he says. “Do you believe in past lives?” He asks and I nod “for sure. And future ones. I don’t think we can learn everything in one go that our souls need” I shrug and he nods a bit. “We need to talk more about this when I don’t have a pounding headache from being so overtired” he said softly and I pout, “c'mon let’s walk home.” I said and headed back to the office to grab my things.

“I just have to go to the back and get my stuff gimme a few” he said from the kitchen. I waited by the island, shawl back on and bag on my shoulder. When he comes back out, my breath gets caught in my throat. Hes wearing delicious light grey sweatpants, blue Nike sneakers, and a plain white champion hoodie. As he lifted his arms to put his backpack on, the hoodie rode up, revealing his tight, toned stomach, and deep, deep V line. I lick my lips, imagining myself on my knees worshiping his god-like figure and he clears his throat.

I looked up again, realizing he completely caught me red handed checking him out like the hottest new library book and I felt my cheeks heat, giving a shy smile. “Ready?” He asked and I nod “ready” I said meekly, mentally face palming for my lack of discretion. “Y’know it’s not a bad thing to check me out, right? I guess for earlier you can call us even” He asked as we walked down the hallway and I nearly tripped over my own feet at the boldness. “Fuck you” I roll my eyes playfully and he opens the door for me.

“I’m a little tired right now, but for you? Anything. Your place or mine?” He asked and I laughed, slapping his chest playfully “you are a naughty, naughty little boy” I teased, wrapping my arms around his bicep as we walked. “Just letting you know allll the ways this glorious date could end” he said, a smug smirk on his face and I shook my head, looking at the sidewalk.

This was so nice. I usually am needing to check behind me every couple steps, am tensing at every noise or stranger I pass, but with Carmen I feel protected. Secure.

“I’ve never actually been able to enjoy this at night, I’m always looking over my shoulder wondering if I need to get my switchblade out” I chuckle shaking my head. “Switchblade? Damn. Can I see it?” He asks and I nod, digging in my purse and pulling out the pink knife attached with a MyMelody keychain to a can of mace.

I pulled away from him, hopping a few steps ahead. “Everybody watch out! I’m a woman that’s armed and dangerous!!” I giggle, clicking the little button and the hello kitty blade swings out with a click. He laughs, and I faced him, waving it around the air in front of me lightly “what’s so funny huh? I’m menacing Carmen, imagine I mugged you right now with a hello kitty knife” I said, causing him to laugh harder, clutching his stomach.

“Oh my god - please” he snorts in laughter causing me to laugh. “Awww little piggy!!” I teased and he gasps pretending to be offended. “okay! Rude! You better not snort ever or you’ll be the piggy miss” he said making me start laughing again “you are at my mercy right now, sir, have you so easily forgotten?” I gently wave the pewny knife in front of his face.

“Oh you sweet thing. I know you wouldn’t hurt a fly.” He plucks it from my fingers easily, closing it. “Only because I have the strongest little chef in all of Chicago to protect me. My knight in sexy gray sweatpants and a white sweatshirt” I mused, a playful smile dancing on my lips. “Mmm ok we’re getting there. I don’t like the little part, but- we’ll get there” he joked, dropping the knife back in my purse.

“Oh, yeah?” I said, grabbing his arm again as we continued, our buildings come in to view. One of my hands trains down his arm, slinking my fingers to wrap between his. “Mmhmm” he hummed.

I stopped again, standing in front of him and wrapping my arms around his neck loosely, standing on my tip-toes even in my heels to reach his ear. “I think that you know, that I know, you’re the sexiest, most hard working, passionate, gentleman - that I’ve ever had the pleasure of having a chance with. And I also think that you know, I have bratty tendencies, and love pulling your chain because I know it gets you going. You wanna know what I’m 100% sure of, though?” My sultry hot breath caused goosebumps to come up on his neck, his hands wrapping around my waist and squeezing gently. “Was’ that baby” he said softly, his voice laced with desire. I lace my fingers in his hair, gently tugging at his frizzy curls from the day.

“I’m sure that you need a brat. Because what you need, Carmy.” I nibbled at his ear gently. His breath hitches in his throat, biting his lip to silence a soft moan. I wasn’t quite sure where all of this raw confidence and honesty was coming from, likely from the strong drink Carmy had made and my being a lightweight.

“Is to be able to force someone in their place, and have full unrelinquished control over the entire situation. For someone to give themselves to you, be fully yours. To use. To love. To worship. Whatever you desire. Cause you’re a control freak. But that’s sexy, that’s soo sexy. I love a man who knows what he needs” I place a soft, lingering kiss on his racing pulse point.

His hands trail down, cupping my ass before squeezing roughly and I moan softly at the contact. His hands were so strong, so large, but somehow the touch was still lacking confidence. “C-can I” he says softly, “can I kiss you, please?” He whispers. I lift my face to meet his, our noses brushing as I rest my forehead on his, looking into his eyes. His pupils were blown wide from both the dark and lust, the only peak of blue being a tiny sliver.

“That depends,” I said with a smirk adorning my lips, I nuzzle my nose against his gently. “Will you kiss me how you want, Carm? Or how you think I want?” I ask and he licks his lips. “I want to make you happy” he whispers, I twirl a curl at the base of his neck around my finger. “It will make me happy, if you take what you want from me” I whispered.

Before I could blink, his lips were on mine, kissing me hungrily- a war of tongue and lips, my fingers tightening around his hair and tugging smiling proudly when he moaned into my mouth. His hands trail my skirt, lifting it slightly to massage my backside in his hands wantingly. I let him take me, dominate me, own me in that moment, matching his hot feverish kisses as well as the sweet, gentle ones. We only broke apart to breathe, our chests rising and falling at an equal rapid pace. His lips were slick from our kiss, swollen from the rough encounter. He was beautiful.

The only sound was the infrequent car passing, or the sound of the crickets that had made their homes in the small patches of grass on the side of the sidewalk that housed the trees.

“I want you to come to family”

Read Chapter 5 Here!

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lycheedr3ams · 2 years ago

Text

little blog announcement

TLDR: my könig fanfics from here on out will be focused on discovering his character rather than porn

rant below the cut

before you read this, just look into his eyes for a moment. are you seeing what i'm seeing? the pain and hardships he went through? the years of training and going to bed with broken bones and bruises and a bloody nose? the tears he cried alone because he had no one? can you see how many times he had to pick himself up because he was the only one he had? can you see the man who didn't get to live his dream, who couldn't be the one thing he wanted to be?

i have been thinking a lot about könig's character, story, personality, etc., and i've decided that i want to dedicate my fanfictions moving forward (for the most part) to things that only really make sense for his character. so, this means no porn without plot from me anymore.

there is so much porn without plot out there for könig, and i'm far from the best smut writer. there is an abundance of porn for könig, but far, far less fanfictions (even fewer halfway good ones) that actually have to do with his character. i don't mean disrespect to any fanfic writer, but i'm just very tired of the mischaracterization of könig. the same thing happens to ghost's character too, and several blogs have also posted about these mischaracterization issues.

yeah, some people might say this take is "too deep" or "it's not that serious", but i feel very connected to könig since i am similar to him in a lot of ways (obviously not in terms of being a killer lol). i have spent a lot of time lately just thinking about his character, and the more i think about him, the more i realize that there is so fucking much that most fanfic writers are missing about könig.

yes, we all love könig's accent, height, cock, and everything else that makes him sexually attractive. but what about the little boy who was bullied his whole life, who never had any friends, the one who dropped out of high school to join the army? the one who worked his way up from nothing to become a fierce and respected soldier? after all the porn without plot is said and done, what thoughts go through könig's mind at the end of the day? how does he interact with others? my point being, i want to dedicate my blog more to understanding his character. if you want könig porn without plot, there are many other blogs to find that from. I AM NOT SAYING PORN WITHOUT PLOT IS INHERENTLY BAD! Just that I don’t want to contribute to it.

I will still have porn without plot on my blog, but i will not be writing it myself.

this doesn't mean that i won't post könig porn. oh fuck no, i will have könig porn, but it will be in the context of a story and his character overall than just porn without plot. now, i might break this rule here and there if i have a really good idea, but i'd like to stick as close to my new personal rule as possible. i'm still going to finish the death's angel AU, and i will still be taking requests for butcher!könig cuz that AU is just so good.

but other than that, i seriously want to dedicate this blog to truly understanding könig: to getting under his skin and picking his brain and figuring out who he is behind the hood, who he is other than an austrian military sex symbol many of us - myself included - have made him out to be

if you disagree or don't like this, just don't interact. no need to be hateful. you'll get blocked if you're rude :)

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snicker-dooodless · 1 month ago

Note

excuse me sir but im gonna need you to ramble about sun wukong >:3

Okay- okay okay, so I’ve been holding back from answering this for a whiiilllee because I found it difficult to ramble about Wukong because my selfship with him is…complicated…[Rambling below!]

I love Wukong, I really do! And I really wanted to selfship with him when I first started to realize I had a crush on him. But- unlike allll of my other self ships, I couldn’t for the life of me think of lore for him and my sona. And I KNOW that’s not a big of a deal, selfshipping is supposed to be fun and free, but that little annoying bit in my brain keeps on telling me I have to have something planned out before selfshipping with him fully, like- before making a sona or drawing any art. And that’s okay! If it’s really bothering that small part of my brain so much, I’ll listen to it and put that selfship on the back burner and let me think about it.

But….in the mean time…there’s a certain other monkey that I’ve been eyeing uppp….

Macaque is so stupid. He is so edgy and thinks he’s so much cooler than he actually is. He’s exactly my type of guy. I can’t NOT fuck him.

For some reason, lore for him and my sona came SOO much easier than the lore or Wukong and my sona.

My sona, who, I’m just calling Sam for now cause I want to give her a Chinese themed name, but I wanna make sure I don’t accidentally fuck it up, so I’m putting that on the back burner for now as well! But annyyyway, she’s a sort of goddess. I don’t want to say exactly a goddess because I’d feel obligated to research Chinese legends so I don’t accidentally insult anyone but research scares me so I’m not committed to anything yet.

But, she’s technically a sky goddess. More specifically, a thunder/lightning goddess. She thinks so insanely high of herself and she is not afraid to let you know that. I’m sure all the praise she gets from her followers and stuff doesn’t help her ego but whatever.

Right now she’s trying to blend more into modern times, I don’t know whyyyy she’s doing this, she’s not afraid to just i go nto goddess mode randomly in the streets if there’s any danger, I think she’s just trying be ‘hip with the kids’ since she’s technically like thousands of years old. Idk.

She’d probably be introduced to the main group during when Lady Bone Demon freezes over the city and she joins the group to help. In the first few seasons/episodes she wouldn’t take up to much spotlight, she’d just be like Nezha at first before getting more dedicated episodes.

I don’t think I’ve described her that well so if you’re interested feel free to check out the Pinterest section I have for her (I also have one for her and Macaque)

Speaking of her and Macaque, I haven’t quite figured out their dynamic yet, only bits and pieces, but I like to think that at first they had a bit of a friendly rivalry. At first their egos would definitely clash causing them to get in petty arguments which would then lead to a small physical fight to let off steam.

It would start like Sam getting mad or petty at Macaque, throwing a lightning bolt in his direction, and when he ducks and turns around to stare at the lightning bolt now wedged into the wall, before smirking at her and being like. “Oh, ho ho ho, so you wanna go?”

And despite them having a sort of rivalry at first, it went by so quick I wouldn’t call their dynamic enemies to lovers, idk what I would call them tbh, but def not enemies to lovers lol.

They would often start physical fights, mostly by Sam being eager to show off and just fight and Macaque just humoring her. They would often do it to train, or just when both of them have won’t up energy, but when their relationship turns more romantic there would be something about how they fight that would make the group leave the room due to being grossed out.

ALSO! I kind of headcanon that in this universe, where my selfship exists, ShadowPeach did happen. And Macaque was dedicated, he was ready to give that relationship his all. And Wukong (who I headcanon to have commitment issues) was scared shitless at that fact.

But my sona is nothing if not committed. She’ll brag about her relationship with macaque, 24-7. If anyone insults him? Uhm??? Excuse you??? How dare you insult the partner of the sky goddess???

And Macaque is not used to that, at all!! He’s used to being the one who’s dedicated, not the other way around.

Anyway, ShadowStorm core blast!!!

#doodle answers #mutuals #💚That Evelyn is suspiciously tiny🐈‍⬛#self ship #💜ShadowStorm💛#lmk #macaque #💛Sam💛

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aelinschild · 1 year ago

Text

Season Of Forgiveness

Main Masterlist

Happy Holidays everyone!! I'm a little (Very, sorry!!) late with this post, but this is my gift for the 2023 Rowaelin Secret Santa! Big thank you to @rowaelinscourt for organizing it!! This is dedicated to the lovely @shyvioletcat , I wish you a very merry holiday season, and hopefully you enjoy this absolute monstrosity. I actually do not know what took over me during writing this, but I'm just happy its done.

SYNOPSIS: Holidays are known to be the season of joy, but when that joy is no longer Aelin's, she is forced to find peace in the unknown. WORDCOUNT: 9k GENERAL WARNINGS: Very light one bed trope, mentions of sex, angsty for no reason, swearing, alcohol, arguments, choking and CPR, happy ending dont worry

(A/N: After writing this, I realize it has the same vibe of calling Die Hard a Christmas movie. Granted, I actually didn't finish the movie, but from what I watched, how the fuck is it a Christmas movie?? This is me telling you that this fic is probably like that lol)

Hour One

Fuck.

There was really no other way to put it. Fuck is such a versatile word, situationally. Aelin can recount the times she's moaned out breathy fucks, and the times she's roared them during moronic altercations.

This type of fuck? Certainly not the cathartic type.

This fuck is the sum of all past mistakes in her life, multiplied by her best friend's scheming mind, and then raised to the power of the irrational choice to return to her old university town.

On the queen-sized bed were two plush towels. A robe. Face cloths and minimal toiletries.

Oh, and a fucking red rose.

In Lysandra’s plush apartment – a classic Victorian style, with ivy creeping up the brick fireplace, and stained glass windows at odd intervals – she was the owner of three bedrooms.

And to Aelin's luck, there happened to be two couples staying here this evening. Which meant two of the three bedrooms were now occupied. Mathematically speaking, the two other individuals would each need their own room.

It seems that math slipped Lysandra's mind when she organized her little yearly anniversary Yulemas Eve dinner. How…pleasant.

Chest rising and falling with barely contained frustration, Aelin didn't know whether to yell or cry. Her hand held her overnight bag so tight her knuckles were pressing at the whites. Nails digging into supple skin.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what Lysandra had done. But it took a lot of willpower for Aelin to not storm out of the room and choke her friend for the transgression. And just past the blood rushing in her ears, she could hear the friendly greetings of her other friends as they crossed the threshold of Lys’ little home. Welcomed into the warmth of tradition.

Oh, I'm going to kill you, Lysandra.

Aedion and Lys would – obviously – take their master bedroom. Located around a corner and at the end of that hall. Far from where Aelin was. A feature she was grateful for, given Aedion and Lysandra's… healthy love life. And Lorcan and Elide would slip into the downstairs spare room. The one the couple had claimed during the first year of this tradition.

Leaving Aelin, in this spare room with a queen-sized bed and the bloody rose, to bed with Rowan.

Oh, how she loathed her life at this moment. What foul god had she angered to be punished this way. Maybe that same god would derail Rowan’s cab en route. Shucking it into a frozen lake, or something of the like.

Gently brushing over the towels, Aelin traced the other memories this room held.

The queen-sized bed hardly fit her and Rowan, that she knew from experience. His height alone ruined the tucked edges of their duvet, which always ended up on his side of the bed by morning. The pillows would have to be mushed together in the middle so that they would not fall off. And Rowan, he at night would roll around. Restless, even in the deepest hours. He would usually end up on top of Aelin, face along her breasts and hair tickling her chin.

Her fingers moved from the towel to the rose. Plucking it up, she held it at eye level. Studying the contours of the flower, it was beautiful. But Aelin couldn't get past the fact that Lysandra had set this up. And put a godsdamned rose on the towels.

Aelin might just take the couch.

The front door opened and closed again, voices rose up from the entry through the open bedroom door. Aelin began unpacking mechanically. The drawers where she set her clothes were the same as she had for the last decade. The dent on the wall by the left corner was also the same. Seems like Aedion never got around to patching it. Aelin chuckles under her breath, the talking-to she and Rowan had received after denting the wall from a vigorous…activity, would never fail to not make her laugh.

Once the unpacking was complete, only taking a few moments as Aelin wouldn't be staying longer than the night, she took a moment to sit on her side of the bed and breathe.

This would be disastrous. And she had no way of getting out. Unless she jumped from the window to her left.

A decade ago, Aelin and Rowan had met through their friends. Their family. Aedion had bridged the gap by dating her best friend, Lysandra. Their quickly evolving and fiery romance meant that there would no longer be Aelin-Elide-Lys days. Now, they included the Ashryver cousin. Lorcan and Rowan had been over Aedion’s lovesick puppy act and had forcibly inserted themselves into the group. As her cousin rarely left Lysandra's side anymore.

This meant that Aelin and Elide were left to deal with two grumpy college guys. It was like babysitting rocks, who could probably show more emotion than the lot of them. But somehow, somewhere along the line, Elide fell for Lorcan. And when Aelin was forced to watch another friend fall in love, she turned to the only bastard left.

But Aelin and Rowan had always been…different. Difficult entirely. It started as sex. Each of them too busy with their respective degrees to foster any more of a connection.

It worked, and it worked well.

For two years, Aelin was exclusive with Rowan Whitethorn without anyone knowing the depth of their friendship. To her girlfriends, he was the hot guy whom Aelin should really give a chance. To his boys, she was the girl who could obviously help blow off a little steam.

Time stretched out, and steadiness had replaced the need for romantic connection. Post graduation, Rowan and her barely crossed paths anymore, unless the entire group got together. But there still existed an attachment built during years of intimacy – which Aelin never voiced, not wanting to ruin the entire affair by breaking the principle rule of their arrangement. And due to that principle, Rowan had also never expressed any interest above surface-level desire.

She had been left in the dark of his feelings for her, just as she had left him in the dark of hers. They were two polar magnets, separated only by the fear of shattering the fragile closeness built from tentative familiarity. Neither were any good at subtly hinting at something.

When the parallel lines of their lives crossed, ever-diligent Rowan proposed something rather different. Unpredictable.

He offered a relationship.

Looking back, it was hilariously clinical. It wouldn't surprise her if he had stored papers in her bag with a list of what their relationship could entail. Numbered – or alphabetically ordered. Probably about who did what and when hand-holding was allowed. Such a stickler for the rules.

But Rowan had shocked Aelin that night. When she had said yes, fuck it let's give it a chance, and they had gone back to his apartment, there was a bouquet of fragrant red roses placed on the counter. A box of her favourite chocolates beside it. Things she had mentioned in passing, probably after a hook-up. Maybe during a romantic comedy that they would often watch together. Where she’d point out the little things men can do that show a deeper appreciation.

They had cracked open a bottle of wine, and talked for hours under the stars and above the rushing traffic. And it was like peeling back a layer, revealing this steadfast and romantic man. The one who had refiled her glass more than once. Used his hand to cover sharp edges when she leaned around after a few too many drinks. Who had carried her to bed, gently unclasping her stiletto heels and massaging the tired soles of her feet. Who had carefully removed the maxi dress she wore, hanging it up to prevent creases. Then, with permission, undressed her further.

That night hadn't been like before. Aelin wasn't sure she had ever felt that way. Not a blinding, stretching heat or an all-consuming pressure. No, rather a connection. When Rowan had caressed her like a piece of art, she felt revered. Holy. Her skin had tingled with the unfamiliar feeling of adoration.

Breathless whispers and tight holds had conveyed words that were far too new to speak aloud.

That night had been the beginning of a long-standing understanding. The two of them weren't open about their connection. Rather, it was a pleasant slice of life, cut out to fit the shape of two lovers who aimed to navigate the crossroads of their future. And for years they existed peacefully in the space they had made for each other.

Until they couldn't anymore.

The door creaked open, its hinges never oiled. Lysandra was allergic to a chemical in WD-40.

A whoosh of breath came from the entrance, and Aelin’s spine felt the all too familiar tingle of the presence of the man she had loved.

“Aelin,” came the voice, like gravel smoothed by arctic winds. There always existed some sort of unrest under Rowan’s skin. It could be heard in his voice, worn from use. Had she still been his, she would have made him a cup of tea. Extra honey. As he liked.

Humming out a noise of acknowledgement, Aelin turned slightly. Cheeks starting to heat. “Hello, Rowan.” She said, breathlessly.

She watched his throat work. He had gotten leaner since she last saw him. His eyes less bright. Cheeks sunken. His unachievable tan had faded.

He was still the beautiful boy–man, she had always known. Pleasure and pain united, each moment in his presence stole some of her oxygen. She loved him. Loved.

A shrill squeak this time, and a crafty brunette head popped into the doorway. “Ah! Okay! Guess, how many candies are in this jar!” Lysandra asked the both of them. Their moment shattering and instead opening up to accept another's presence. Lysandra was holding a large mason jar filled with red and white peppermint swirl candies.

“Uh,” Rowan scratched the back of his neck. “Two hundred?” Lysandra just snorted and then turned to Aelin.

Aelin studied the jar, fighting to not break out into goosebumps with the feeling of Rowan’s eyes on her. “One hundred…and… forty-three–no! Twenty!”

“Final answer?” Lysandra taunted.

“Yes.”

“Wrong.” She cackled. Turning away and hightailing it down the hall, laughing like she was possessed. “Come downstairs, you losers!”

Hour Two

Aelin had left with no word to Rowan. She couldn't bear it. The wound still so fresh. Instead, she had sauntered by and shut the door gently on her way out. Missing the pleading look in his eyes as she walked away.

“Ae!” Elide shouted at her approach. Aelin couldn't help but smile. As awful as the next eleven hours may be, Aelin was grateful she had her best friends by her side. Lysandra's still on thin ice.

“El! Look at you!” Aelin grabbed a hold of her friend's hand, letting her do a little twirl. The sequined skirt she had on fanned out around her. Reflecting the lights in the room across the walls. “You like our own little mirrorball.”

Elide just let out a soft laugh. Grinning. “Gotta get the party started somehow.” She said. Stepping back she put her arms on Aelin's elbow, holding tight. She made a show of looking around the room, and upon it being clear, Elide looked her right in the eyes. “I'm sorry.”

“For what,” Aelin asked, perplexed.

She gave her a pointed look. “I tried to explain to Lys that she wasn't being fair. It's not fair. I offered to get a hotel room for me and Lorcan, but you know how Aedion is about traditions.” She rolled her eyes. “I realize that this isn't… you know. This was not on the healing plan–”

“Maybe, El, just being with my best friends could be healing. Maybe we switch the healing plan around for a little.” She said softly, speaking from a place of honesty.

Elide’s eyes were misty, and Aelin had to look away. This was a hurt that was deeper than her.

She took a breath, “Okay. But–no I'm serious. Don't look away. If you need anything, anything at all, I'm here. And we can have a little girl meeting with Lys after we put the boys to bed.” She gave a choked laugh.

Aelin nodded. An understanding passing through them both. Everyone knew that tension would be high this evening. Aelin herself knew it would be brutal. Facing her ex at Lys’ annual Yulemas Eve Dinner, a tradition shrouded in love and comfort. But she was eternally grateful for Elide – and Lysandra, but maybe not currently. How she found such caring women would never fail to surprise her.

Elide nodded back, smile and eyes watery. They both let out laughs. This solidarity was something Aelin needed more than she knew.

“Okay, no more tears.” Aelin sniffed, disconnecting their hand-elbow position to wipe at her waterline. Elide laughed and did the same; laughing at the growing pains. Embracing and squeezing love into each other.

Hour Three

They had all moved to the living room. It was three o'clock, and the festivities would run until midnight.

This tradition of theirs started years ago, when Lysandra had been given this apartment by her uncle, conveniently on Yulemas Eve. As a group of broke college students, they had gotten together at noon at Lys’ new abode, flocking towards the offer of free food and drinks. But, they had spent the next twelve hours renovating, each of them finding different tasks every hour to keep the boredom away. At midnight, the promised food had been delivered and all of them had pigged out and slept on the worn carpet of the living room, full of holiday spirit.

That tradition continued on, and it proved to be extremely helpful in the days when family ties were harder to save than simply forget. When the lonesomeness of the holidays overtook the youths, twelve hours at Lysandra and Aedion's home would never fail to rekindle that merriment.

And so, for the past decade, everyone would arrive at noon, and each hour would be filled with something new; usually holiday-themed, but it was truly left to Aelin’s best friend’s imagination.

So at hour three, the group found themselves in the living room, sipping on sparkling wine and snacking on appetizers. This would – apparently – be the hour of catching up.

“... And so I told him, if he wanted a maid he could hire one. I mean, the man is rolling in money. What fucking scumbag hires someone, and then lets them play servant for the rest of the office, and then drops all his work on them? I mean, truly.” Elide was saying. Aelin was nodding along, enjoying the fresh gossip about her best friend's workplace. “But then he got all on his high horse, all you can't talk to me like that and I'm your superior, you know. Stupid bullshit.”

“So what did you do?” Lysandra asked, thoroughly enthralled by the story. Lorcan let out a hearty chuckle, his arm slung across Elide lovingly.

“I fucking stole the glass plate from his microwave. Then took all the ink cartridges from his pens. And all the extra toilet paper in his washroom? Not there anymore!” Aelin snorted out her bubbly wine. Lysandra was racked with giggles, and Lorcan was trying not to laugh out loud. Aedion’s cackle joined the fray. And like she always would, Aelin picked up on Rowan's breathy laugh, it ignited flames through her veins.

“Oh my gods, El. You absolute heathen,” Aedion got out through fits of laughter. Lysandra attempted deep breaths while wiping stray tears from the corners of her eyes. Aelin stared into her drink, suppressing giggles.

“Well, it's not like he didn't deserve it,” Elide added, smiling smugly. Lorcan just kissed her temple.

“Certainly not. Where’d you get those ideas though?” Leaning for a piece of cheese, Aelin asked. Grabbing a few pieces and rolling them around in her palm. Lysandra’s giggles were waving in and out, each time Aedion whispered something in her ear, they’d begin again.

“My gigantic brain.” Elide snorted, pleased at her joke.

“Nice, El.” Came from Rowan.

“See, I thought you'd crucify me for that. Mister straight and narrow.” Oh.

Rowan didn't falter, “No, actually, if anything that gives me ideas.” He said. “Sometimes the corporate world can be a little too uptight.” He glanced at Aelin.

Aedion laughed again. “Rich! That’s rich coming from you.” He taunted.

Rowan leaned into the jest. “Maybe I want to break free.”

“Uptight life not suiting you anymore, Boyo?” Came from Lorcan.

“Maybe.” Rowan shrugged. “Maybe life is worth a little more than corporate deviances.” He pulled at the seams of his shirt. Fingers twirling the stem of his sparkling wine.

Aelin didn't think anyone else had noticed the stall in the conversation. The way the bright energy slowed and sputtered. Pausing momentarily and applying enough pressure to Aelin’s soul that she felt winded. But everyone moved on, Rowan included. Laughing and sharing stories as they might.

The conversation didn't end, and Aelin’s buried sorrow didn't dissipate. But she would keep breathing. Keep moving forward, exchanging banter all in the hopes of drawing out the sound of her heart breaking slowly.

“By the way, Lys, how many candies were in the jar?”

“None. It was the paper decoration that it came with from the store.”

Hour Four

It was cocktail hour.

This was Aelin’s favourite tradition. One she actually prepared for. And it consisted of each of them having to make a holiday-themed cocktail, completely customized. There could be no research during the competition – before was a grey area Aelin loved to exploit – and they each had ten minutes.

The order would follow; Lorcan, Lysandra, Elide, Aedion, Rowan, Aelin. And so, a silver tray had been placed in the middle of the table, and six yellowy drinks in champagne flutes sat. The colour was truly horrifying.

“So, explain.” Lysadra motioned to start.

“Right,” Lorcan grabbed a flute, examining it carefully. Like he didn't even know what was in it himself. “So, this…drink–”

“Sound a little more enthusiastic babe, or I'll be really worried about what you made.” Elide interrupted.

“I'm already worried,” Rowan whispered to Aedion, face set in a perplexed grimace.

“Hush, you goons.” He waved at the other guys. They broke apart laughing. “In here there is…Gin, uh, some Limoncello and creme de Banane. And I call it the…uh, I don't know. Yellow shot?”

“...of death,” Aelin whispered to Lysandra. Who nodded solemnly. Elide looked disgusted at her fiance’s creation, but schooled it into a look of pride when he turned to her. The moment he looked away, she made a fake gagging motion to Aelin and Lysandra.

“Sounds wonderful, my dear Lorcan. Now, my great sir, would you please bring me my beverage.” Aedion declared, hands aiming to move in a dignified manner. He looked like he was trying to swat away flies.

“No.”

“It was worth a shot,” He sighed, reaching for a drink.

Aelin grabbed a flute, “Limoncello and Gin, what the hell were you aiming for here Lorcan?” She delicately sniffed at the drink. Oh god.

Plopping himself nearly onto Elide, who let out a squeak, he just shrugged. Grabbing his flute, he threw it back in one fluid motion. Everyone paused, waiting for the reaction. He swallowed, looked around, and then quickly turned away to gag and cough.

Laughter erupted.

Once everyone had a glass, clinking them together in cheers, and shot it down like Lorcan. He watched from on the couch, eyes a little watery. There was a pause as everyone swished the drink around in their mouth, tasting the flavour.

It was fucking godsawful. Aelin had never tasted anything so evil. The hint of banana flavour nearly had her spitting the drink back into the glass, and the way the Gin nearly curdled it was almost worse. Taking a deep breath through her nose, she tried to swallow. Forcing the atrocity that was Lorcan’s drink down. Catching Elide’s eye, as the woman got up and ran for the washroom. Lysandra was the only one who seemed unbothered.

“Fuck!” Aedion shouted when he could speak again. “Holy gods man, I have never put anything worse into my mouth. Ever.”

“And that's saying somethin',” Rowan choked out. Also beyond bothered by Lorcan’s monstrosity.

“You evil, evil man,” Aelin added. A shudder racking her body.

The cocktail hour carried on. Lysandra had made a mojito with cinnamon rather than mint, and it was not nearly as bad as Lorcan’s. Elide had done a ‘Sunrise Suprise’, which was simply tequila and orange juice. The ability to make a good cocktail skipped both Elide and Lorcan. Aedion had wanted to send everyone to their death, combining four different whiskeys and a melted spoonful of ice cream. It hadn't been as bad as expected, but there were much better choices out there. Rowan had mixed pickle juice and vodka, to create a dill martini. Interestingly enough, that had been the most palatable drink of the night.

When Aelin’s turn came around, she began to pull out the individual ingredients. Lining them up in the order in which she would mix. Her focus on the drinks made her unaware that another body was present in the kitchen. Until they spoke up.

“You look well,” Rowan said from the opposite end of the room, his body leaning up against the cabinets. Jumping at the sudden sound of his voice, her head snapped up. There he was, cataloguing her every move, a familiar feeling; his eyes on her.

Startled, she stared at him. And kept staring at him, not realizing she had been ogling him for a few moments. She took in the lines of his body, the way his dress pants hugged his legs. The black leather belt, cinching in his waist. The sweater – cashmere, most likely – was elegantly draped over his upper body. The hard planes of his stomach were slightly in sight as the soft material moulded to his form. Everything about Rowan meant something. And looking at him only brought back bitter-sweet memories. Her gaze snapped away when he gave a light noise of acknowledgement.

Blushing and caught, Aelin turned back to the drinks, cracking open the bottle of vodka she had slipped mint candies in a few weeks ago. She planned to let the flavours permeate the liquor and add a nice flair to her drinks. She felt Rowan’s inquisitive eyes on her every move.

“Thank you, Rowan.” Acknowledging him, she hoped he would just walk away. She wasn't strong enough to just stand here and allow him to be there. To feel the gaping divide between their beings.

Silence.

“I– Look, I need to talk to you Aelin,” He approached from the other side of the room, slipping around the counter where she was. “I know it’s not the best–”

“Rowan.” A firm command, all blushed drained. She could be strong. She could. She was back to looking at him again. Green eyes, full lips, strong jaw. The silver strands that ghosted his brow. Gods she hated how looking at him hurt her so deeply. His smile, and laughter, earlier had been the knife to the gut. His presence here now? A twisting.

“No, Aelin. I'm serious.”

“I am too.”

“Wait.” He breathed. Gentler this time. His hand stretched out, muscle memory. She knew it would land at the curve of her waist, how the weight of it would ground her. The warmth would slip under the fabric of her dress, warming her bones.

He retracted it before it got close enough, burning the neuron pathway that made the movement instinctual.

She steadied herself, leaning towards him slightly, but not enough to communicate any more interest in where this was going. “Not now, Rowan. Not now. You had your chance, let me be.”

“What chance? The fucking run-in at a cafe? That was not a ‘chance’ Aelin.” He snapped. Letting his frustration run into his tone. She hated him when he was like this. Not frustrated, no she understood that. But…seeking. She knew what he wanted, and she knew it would break her down quicker than she could turn away. Her sanity rested on the finalization of this conversation.

Smiling politely, in a way she knew brought more frustration, she turned away and began preparing the drink.

“Not now,” She whispered. More to herself, a silent prayer of resistance. She heard more than saw Rowan turn to walk away, over the entire conversation entirely. He missed the tear that raced down her cheek, or the hitch in her breath when the door swung close.

“Peppermint Cocktails!” Aelin announced, waltzing into the room with her usual charm, all emotions wiped. She avoided Rowan’s look like the plague. Offering a drink to each friend, she was pleased to hear that her concoction was the best of the night – an unsurprising win – and the group sat around talking still. The light buzz from all the alcohol had Aelin feeling looser. The unease from moments ago slipped away like sand between her fingers.

“I saw Rowan walk into the kitchen,” Elide whispered into her ear. Everyone else had been looking at a picture on Lorcan's phone.

“Mhm.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Hour Five

Rowan likes the cold.

He liked it in a way many others didn't. He liked the way it nipped at his body slowly in the beginning, a feeling that was urgently chased away by shivers. He liked it when it froze deeper. When it slowly crawled into the heat of his body, dousing it and cutting off feeling. He liked the stiffness. The slowed movement as the cold reached his core, seizing feeling. It isolated him in a way many things did not.

Sitting on the front porch of Lysandra’s apartment, he embraced the cold.

Everyone had just finished up with a game of cards, and Aedion had rushed out, forgetting some ingredients for dinner. He had excused himself, just need a moment, and walked all of three steps before stopping. Allowing his body to freeze, his cashmere sweater not saving much heat.

As he lost feeling of some body parts, he embraced the thoughts rushing through his mind, all seemingly racing in circles around the fiery blonde. The one whose embers never burnt out, but now seemed to be slowly dying. The consistent crackle and warmth of her presence, all leaking away in a manner he knew he was responsible for.

The cold he had embraced wholeheartedly was killing his fireheart.

His thoughts spun like the twirling snowflakes as they fell to the ground. Circling gently, melting away. But all things seemed to lead him back to his bedroom. To the moment this morning, before he had slipped away into the cab to make it here tonight. His thoughts brought him to the second drawer in his nightstand, underneath a notepad and tissues. In an embroidered box, sat a diamond ring, inlaid into a gold band that had sweeping leaf designs along its curves. Two emeralds set into the inside, to rub against one's finger.

All thoughts seemed to lead him back to Aelin

Hour Six, Hour Seven, Hour Eight

“Can you pass me the salt?” Lysandra called from Aelin's right. She was before the stove, stirring the gravy and watching the vegetables as they cooked in the pan.

Handing her the salt, Aelin brushed by her to grab some butter from the fridge. Needing it for the bread that would be coming out of the oven soon, steaming hot.

They worked in a comfortable silence, only waiting for Aedion to return with some forgotten ingredients. Lorcan, Elide, and Rowan were all in the living room, having not been drawn for cooking duty this year. A method that was quickly taken up once the group realized six people in the kitchen was less of a pleasant experience. Top many bossy chefs.

Post-cocktail hour, tipsy cards had commenced. And the many, many, shots of straight liquor had reached Aelin by that time. She was feeling much better, her heart no longer aching and screaming at her mind to just look at the man across from her. Rather, she had enthusiastically played cards. Letting the feeling of her family around her and the laughter that kept escaping cocoon her. Unfortunately, that joy had meant that Lorcan had swept everyone off their asses, wiping the board clean and winning the one hundred and twenty dollars put into the pot. That had sobered her up pretty quickly, arguing that he had cheated. He had just smirked.

Then when Aedion rushed out, Aelin caught sight of Rowan walking out the front door too. She had been standing at the other end of the hallway, out of his view. She had watched his expression fall as soon as he crossed the threshold. It was like night and day, the crinkle around his eyes and the brightness of his smile, wiped away. He just stepped out, closing the door softly behind him.

She had waited a moment, arguing mentally if she should go after him, until Lysandra had called, telling Aelin she needed her help.

She wasn't ready to face him alone.

“Aelin,” A soft hand was at Aelin's wrist, pausing her chopping of vegetables. She glanced up, shocked out of her reverie. Lysandra was staring at her, looking deeply into her, her brows pulled together in confusion. She must've been calling me for a minute. When it seemed Lysandra had the other woman’s attention, she added softly, “I couldn't not invite one of you.”

Dropping the knife, “Lys.” Aelin pleaded, not wanting to have this conversation. It felt like the entire night had been her running in circles around her and Rowan. Her and Rowan. Rowan and I. “Seriously, I can't do more of this.”

Lysandra paid no mind to Aelin’s plea, pushing forward. “Listen. I love you deeply, very very deeply. Sometimes I wonder why,” at that, Aelin cracked a mirthful smile. “But I see the way you two look at each other. And while I know it's not my business, I think this is something you two seriously need to talk out.” She said solemnly.

This was the point she'd been dancing around for such a long time.

Pushing the cutting board away from her, Aelin slumped into her arms, leaning against the counter.

“Did I make a mistake? Breaking up with him?” Like a breath after being underwater, Aelin let it out, asking the question that had rattled in the back of her mind for months. Breathing in a little deeper when some new space opened up because of it.

“I have my own opinions, but whether or not you made a mistake is up to you.” Lysandra was soothingly rubbing her back.

“Some days it feels like the biggest fucking mistake I've ever made, Lys. Some days it hurts so much I can't even get out of bed.”

She hummed, letting Aelin speak.

“I just– it felt right at the time. But it doesn't feel right now. How is that fair? How could I have made a decision like that? What would have happened if I stayed?”

“You wouldn't have done well, Ae. We all saw what was happening.”

“But you can't know that.” She whispered out.

“I can, and I did. Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is let go. And that's what you did, my love. Maybe something could have gotten better, but maybe not.” Lysandra took a deep breath. “I'm proud of you regardless, that's not an easy choice to make.”

“And it clearly wasn't the fucking right one.”

Lysandra's hand stopped, she grabbed onto Aelin's shoulder, squeezing firmly.

“You can say that all you want, Aelin, but ultimately it was the right choice for you at the time. You blossomed. But now? Maybe it's different. And maybe every time I see you two lovesick fools in the same room, I am simultaneously sick and overjoyed. I see his face when he looks at you Ae, like you hung the stars.”

“What's this? Therapy hour?” A loud voice broke apart their moment, jerking both women out of their moment. It was Aedion with the groceries. He was smiling widely, but it fell when he took in the expression of the other women. “Oh. Shit, sorry.”

Aelin just groaned. “And look at me now, ruining the festivities.” Watching Aedion's smile drop was just a reminder of the emotional burden she forgot to check at the door. Bringing that cloud of gloom inside. It was not fair to everyone else, they didn't deserve to bear witness to the sorrow leaking from her.

“You're not ruining anything, Aelin. Aedion, stop being an idiot.” Lysandra amended.

Aedion, clearly understanding the situation now, came over to drop the groceries on the counter and pull his cousin into a tight hug. “Lys is right. You have nothing to be sorry for. We all love you lots and want to see you happy, and if drinking shitty cocktails and spilling your gossip helps you feel better, I'll gladly do it alongside you.” He kissed her temple.

Aelin wanted to break down. This was not how she expected to spend this evening. Granted, she has predicted being in the same vicinity as Rowan would test her. Bring those choked feelings up to the surface. It would hurt just as it had when they split, as there was truly no way to prepare for seeing him again after months of no contact. Months of isolation and heartache. Months without the half that made her whole.

“Lys, baby, is the gravy supposed to bubble like that?”

“Shit!” Exclaiming, Lysandra rushed away from Aelin's side to check on her portion of dinner. Leaving Aelin, still bent over the counter, staring at the herbs she’d have to chop to sprinkle over the potatoes.

She felt a gentle shoulder push against her side, and then her cousin was beside her, close enough she could feel the warmth radiating off his huge form. “Your parents would be so proud of you, Ae. No matter what. And I think you should do what you feel is best. Even if that's walking away. I love you, we love you.” Mumbling into her ears, lower than anyone else could hear. Aelin nodded, brushing the moisture away from her face.

“I love you too, Aedion.”

“Cheers to this year!”

Glasses chimed as they clinked together, bubbly wine spilling over, onto the feast laid up on the table. Decadent smells wafted up, making Aelin's stomach rumble. She was ready to dig into the spread, and let the food smother the churning anxiety in her stomach.

She was seated next to Elide, and Aedion on her other side. Everyone else was spread around the round table – Lysandra hated the idea of a square table. Not wanting any fighting over the head of it.

Aelin had spoken to Lysandra and Aedion for a few minutes more, opening up a little about how she had been feeling. It took some pushing, given her displeasure at possibly ruining everyone's evening with her issues, but the couple had assured her that it wasn't possible. Highly doubtful of that. But it had been…cathartic, to really speak about how she had felt. How she was dealing with her wounded heart. It meant more than Aelin would realize at the moment, for the two of them to give her a little perspective.

Then, once the timer for the roast had gone off, and the main part of dinner had been pulled out of the oven, it was dressed up in the herbs Aelin had finally finished chopping – after getting a few more hugs in from both Lys and Aedion. Lys and her had started dishing up the plates and Aedion set off to cut some of the roast. Lorcan and Rowan had joined to set the table. And Elide had popped some bottles of prosecco, pouring glasses for everyone.

Seated now, in front of a plate of aromatic food, a balm for the soul, she felt the urge to voice her appreciation. “So,” she started, drawing attention from everyone, especially Rowan. “I- I wanted to say thank you. To all of you. I think… that because of the lives we live today, I really don't have the opportunity to look at all of you and say that. To be able to sit around with each of you means more than anything, and I can't imagine being anywhere else right now. It wouldn't feel right.”

“Cheers to that,” Lorcan added, a slight smile aimed in Aelin’s direction. If that wasn't the definition of a Yulemas miracle, she didn't know what else could be.

Glancing around the table, the circle of the most important people in her life, her eyes stalled upon Rowan. She meant what she said, meant every piece of it. She loved all of them. Grumpy Lorcan, meddling Lysandra. But gods, she loved Rowan, and she lied to herself every day when he was no longer a warm presence next to her. His side of the bed uncharacteristically cold. The feeling of it cooling her.

She hadn't noticed the change in the environment, her focus being locked on Rowan. Their eyes connected, as if reading each other's minds. A choked wheezing noise almost drew her away, but she couldn't. Not when she was swimming in him, not when–

SLAM

“Elide!” A shrill scream. Ripping Aelin away, she was met with a panicked Lysandra, and a horrified Lorcan.

Elide was facedown on the table, and amid chaos, Aelin noticed her chest was not rising and falling as it should. Shouts ensued, voices yelling about get her up and call an ambulance. What had happened in the seconds Aelin wasn't present. How could this have happened that quickly? What was happening!

“She can't breathe!”

“Start CPR. Now!”

“Has someone called an ambulance?”

What is going on!

Lorcan had gently laid Elide on the floor. He had his finger down her throat. His face was panicked, but he was hiding it well, focusing on Elide. Chairs were shoved back, and Lysandra was rushing away, Aedion was on the phone, Rowan was getting on his knees by Elide. They were saying something to each other. Rowan pushed Lorcan away. Lorcan fought back before he realized what was happening. Rowan placed his hands by Elide’s middle, his fingers laced together. She looked so frail there, on the floor.

Rowan started pushing down, one two three four. One two three four. Onetwothreefouronetwothreefour– What is happening!

Aelin was frozen. Frozen in fear, in disbelief, in shock. How. That's all that was going through her mind. How. It had been going so well, how could one moment lead to this? To Elide, down on the floor, not breathing as her fiance shouted panic commands at Rowan. Equally freaked out. To Aedion, shouting instructions from paramedics. Two minutes away! To Lysandra, distraught, not knowing what to do. To Aelin, standing as her best friend couldn't breathe.

Lorcan leaned down, his ear by Elide's mouth. His hand on her neck, searching. Rowan paused, breathing heavily.

Aelin thought she knew what it was to feel her heartbreak, to feel it shatter. But she had never felt it as it fell. Dropped straight out of her chest when Lorcan looked up, eyes wide as saucers, pupils fully dilated. As he looked at Rowan and a lone tear slipped from his eye, dropping down, down, down. Down to where Elide was not breathing.

Hour …

Seated in the emergency ward of the local hospital, Aelin listened to a dull Lorcan list off what had happened. She had choked. She had something lodged in her throat for so long that she passed out. It got lodged deeper. She has two broken ribs. It's not your fault Rowan. You saved her life. She had an endoscopic surgery. To remove the food. She’ll need to stay for the night. Observation.

Struck by disbelief, Aelin couldn't do anything more than trace the lines on the floor. Her hands shook, a later symptom of the shock that had paralyzed Aelin in the moment of action. As Elide was carried out to the ambulance –still not breathing – she had only stood there. Rooted to place. Snapping out of it only when Rowan said he was going to follow them to the hospital. Aelin hadn't even said anything, snapping out of her state and running to the door to grab her boots and jump into whatever car Rowan would be taking.

Only she and Rowan were at the hospital, alongside Lorcan. Aedion had made the executive decision for Lys and him to stay back. Lys had been hysterical, shouting, but shaking just as Aelin was now. She hadn't thought of them once, only what might happen to Elide. To her lovely Elide.

“But she’ll be okay?” Rowan whispered. Agony weaved into his question. He felt guilty, this Aelin knew. Even if he had saved a life, he felt guilty he had hurt someone. She could scream.

Aelin didn't hear an answer, assuming that Lorcan had nodded when Rowan let out a great sigh. Cut short by the sob that burst out. Lorcan was there in an instant, wrapping his brother up in a tight hug. She palmed her thighs, squeezing so tightly.

Eventually, Lorcan released Rowan. The both of them were slightly breathless. Eyes red and sad. Lorcan said he was going to check on Elide, and Rowan sat down next to her. For a few quiet moments, no words were exchanged. A too-real grief hung heavy in the air. They almost lost someone, and now here they were, waiting for Elide to be here again. Because she almost wasn't. She was so close to not being here anymore.

Standing up abruptly, “I- I have to go.” Aelin walked off, not waiting for an answer from Rowan. She was walking quickly through the halls, adrenaline coursing through her so quickly she could barely breathe. And then her breath was coming too quickly. And then she was running, running for the exit. And in her haste, she didn't hear the other feet running after her.

All she could hear was her breath. Elide’s lack of.

She slammed through the front doors, flat-out sprinting now. She had no idea where to go, and it was snowing hard. The wind whipped at her dress-clad form – she hadn't grabbed her jacket. But she kept running. Tripping up on ice, pelted by the rising blizzard. She had no idea where she was, but the blood rushing in her ears, and her hyperventilating had her in a dizzying state.

“AELIN!” A voice roared. She couldn't tell where the sound was coming from, completely surrounded by falling snow, as it blocked out the light. Spinning wildly, she could feel the tears as they rushed down her face, freezing on her cheeks.

She was panting, barely in control, when Rowan came from her side, nearly slamming into her and knocking them both over. He was breathing heavily too. His hair was out of place and his eyes were wild.

“What were you thinking!” He yelled, grabbing onto her. “You can't fucking run like that! Aelin! What the fuck!” His tone kept increasing. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Unlike Elide. No movement, no breaths. No breaths, no breath, not breathi-

“Aelin! AELIN! Look at me!”

Her eyes were wild, nails pressing into Rowan’s biceps as she held onto him for dear life. Where was she, where was she, wherewasshe…

A chilled hand grabbed her chin, pulling her – not roughly – to look into Rowan’s frantic gaze. Her breathing wasn't slowing, and Rowan’s gaze was unbreakable. He was whispering something, his lips moving. Aelin watched as they moved, shifting up, down. The corners of his mouth pinching. Another hand came up, and her face was now being cradled between Rowan’s large hands. And she saw his lips still moving, and then the crease in his brow, the worry dancing in his eyes. And then she was pressed against his warm chest.

Her head was against his heart. The thump-thump a grounding. She felt her breathing start to ease, felt arms tighten around her. Felt as she leaned further into Rowan. The tears falling faster now, but her breaths slowing enough that her brain could finally catch up. To where she was. Where she was, here in Rowan’s arms. In Rowan’s ar–

“No!’ She shouted shoving away from him, breaking the cage that was his grasp. “No! No, no, no!”

Rowan just let his arms drop, hanging by his sides. His expression was one of worry, and confusion. Frustration and dismay. “What?” He said. His voice carried through the snowstorm.

“Dont– Dont do that!” Aelin sobbed out, hands going to her hair. Pulling at the roots and turning around aimlessly.

“Do what.” His hands clenched. His worry wiped away, a vexed expression appearing instead.

“Do that! Care for me! Stop!” She kept shouting, the snow thoroughly soaking her now. The chill seeping into her bones.

“Care for you? What?” He shouted back. “What the fuck do you mean Aelin!”

“I mean, don't come r-rushing after me! Don't fucking p-pretend you care!”

“Pretend I care?!” He took a step forward, she took one back. An undecipherable look crossed his face, before it was set back into a frown. His shoulders lined with tension, and fists opening and closing around nothing. “Aelin, what do you mean?”

“You don't care. S-so don't c-come running after m-me like you do!” The chills were shaking her body now, and she wrapped her arms around herself as tightly as possible, trying to keep in body heat. The storm was getting worse. Rowan’s image was getting blurrier, maybe it was her tears, still flowing freely. Along with her nose.

“What… Aelin– I,” His hand went to his hair, raking through the soaked strands before pulling. “I chased after you because you fucking ran away hyperventilating! Out of a hospital! Into a fucking blizzard! What do you think I’d do? Sit there like an idiot and let you freeze to death or get hit by a car?!”

“It doesn-”

“Yes it does! Yes, it fucking does!”

“Why!” She screamed, shaking and watching as Rowan stepped forward. This time she didn't step back.

“Aelin.” He said, this time it was more of a command, a telling. “Are you asking me why I’d come for you?”

She considered it for a second, then nodded.

A moment passed before Rowan's face morphed into one of genuine pain.

“Because I would always fucking follow you! And I would always make sure you are okay, no matter what.” He snapped. “And I'm sorry I can't turn my feelings off as easily as you, but watching you walk away, no matter what, it fucking kills me!”

There was a pause as the words sunk in, as Rowan’s chest rose and fell with laboured breaths, as his eyes traced her face for any hint – of anything.

“You what?” Aelin squeaked out. Not knowing if the question was swallowed up by the storm until Rowan took a tentative step forward. Then another, then they were just a few breaths apart.

“I would always follow you, Aelin,” He whispered, face drawn in sorrow. Her cheeks hurt from the frozen tears, but they warmed at his confession. “Because… because I still love you. Still so, so much. Ae, it hurts.”

“What,” She said, more to herself. But Rowan's face crumpled, and she felt the fall directly in her heart.

“Aelin,” He whispered, reaching for her hand that was tucked under her exposed bicep. Slowly freezing. She let him grab the hand, warming it between his palms, and then pulling her forward to place it on his heart. “I have missed you every day, and I- I couldn't do anything about it, ‘cause I fucked it up in the first place. I made you have to leave. And so I watched you walk away. I let you,” He took a deep breath. “I never wanted that to happen. Ever. But I did, and… gods Aelin, I’ve never regretted something more in my life.”

She just looked up at him. Not really believing the words she was hearing, because how could this be possible?

“Rowan…” Her lips were turning blue, and she could barely feel her legs. She was going to freeze out here, in the midst of a blizzard, as she heard her ex-boyfriend tell her how he messed up, how he missed her.

A tear fell on his face, and she watched it trail down. “I love you, Fireheart. I still love you. I am in love with you.” He shook his head, his hair had froze. “I'm sorry.”

“Rowan, I t-thought you wanted m-me gone. I thought it w-wasnt working.” Her teeth were clacking together so hard, she could barely get the words out. That and the weird feeling erupting from inside her.

“I never wanted you gone, Ae. I was just so… I didn't realize what I had– what we had.”

“And now y-you do?” She mumbled, her feelings dancing on the edge of a knife.

His pine-green eyes scanned her face so quickly, moving over every feature. As if he was re-memorizing them all. She watched his throat work.

“Ae… I don’t know how to– I,” He closed his eyes.

Aelin took in her hand on his chest, the tear tracks along his beautiful face. The soaked sweater. Her frozen body, and she took a chance, stepping forward, pressing up.

Rowan must have sensed a change, because his eyes snapped open, searching, before finding Aelin closer than she had been in months.

“Rowan…” She breathed, “I love you so godsdamned much.” She slung her arms around his neck, and pressed a cold kiss onto his stunned lips. He didn't react for a second, and she almost darted away, before she was pulled back.

Her lips crashed back into Rowan, into a fiery and all-consuming kiss that warmed her from head to toe. Rowan's hands moved all over, making purchase along her frozen body. Never settling, like he didn't realize she was real.

There, in the middle of a raging blizzard, Aelin got back what she had been searching for. Her other half. The man who was only everything to her, all along, and forever.

Once Rowan had realized that Aelin might actually contract hypothermia, he had rushed her back to the hospital, where she was treated for minor frostbite, and then released soon after. The pair had visited a sleeping Elide and tired Lorcan, before heading back to the house to update Lysandra and Aedion. Once they had gotten past them, Rowan had gone up to their room to run a bath for Aelin.

Lysandra had told Aelin she could take Lorcan and Elide’s room – given that they wouldn't be home that night – and when she had objected, saying she preferred her room, Aedion and Lysandra had looked at each other questioningly. But they let her go without a fuss, Lysandra already planning to get this information out of the woman.

Aelin had paid them no heed, moving lethargically upstairs, where she found Rowan sprinkling some of the petals from the rose into the bath.

She had kissed him, and then gotten distracted kissing him, before timidly inviting him into the bath as well. He agreed, and the two of them spent a gentle moment together, not initiating anything further, but Aelin sunk into the feeling of Rowan, of having him back in her life, in her heart.

When they had both pruned up, Rowan hopped out and brought the towels over, drying the both of them off. Running on the dregs of her earlier adrenaline rush, Aelin leaned heavily into Rowan as he got her ready for bed. The soft moment bringing her back to where she felt safe, where she knew she belonged. And when Rowan picked her up bridal style, gently laying her on her side of the bed, tucking her in and then crawling in behind her, she knew she was home.

“I love you, Rowan.”

“I love you, Aelin.”

Hours Later

That morning, when they went as a group to visit Elide and Lorcan in the hospital, carrying some gingerbread cookies, flowers and a present for Elide, they found the couple asleep together in bed. Lorcan's large body curled protectively around Elide, his great arms placed with a delicateness reserved only for the woman he loved. They had tried to backtrack – let them sleep – only for Elide to snap at them. Telling them to get their asses back in the room because she wants to spend Yulemas morning with her family.

Aelin could have cried happy tears, and she had. Rushing forward to hug Elide. Careful of her ribs, and the giant man behind her. She had cried into her arms. Mumbling incoherent words into the woman's skin. And soon she was joined by Lysandra, who was equally as teary. Lorcan had mumbled something about wanting to spend the morning with his fiance and had slipped off the bed with a groan, headed elsewhere. His spot was quickly replaced by the two other women. All of them snuggling up together. Rowan had snapped a quick photo.

Aedion and Rowan pulled up chairs, and Rowan grabbed an extra for Lorcan when he returned. Chattering happily, Elide was in the center of her family. And even if she had been in pain, had almost died, she was forgetting about it instantly with their arrival. And she sat with them for the entire morning, basking in the love so freely available.

And when it was time for them to leave, she didn't miss the way Rowan folded his arms around Aelin, and the beaming smile she reserved for him. The way their hands snaked together when they thought no one was looking. And the kiss Rowan dropped onto Aelin's brow as they walked off, away. Intertwined again.

Taglist: @backtobl4ck // @goddess-aelin

Thank you for reading!! Happy holidays to you all :))))

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