#the way he looks a her like the rest of the world ceased to exist in that morning

[pickingupmymercedes]

Later it is - Lewis Hamilton

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: hints of sexual activities if you squint

wordcount: +2K

a/n: Summer tanned skin, abs on display (ish), a safety pin and Lewis fashion week. Do we need anything more?!

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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The gentle sound of waves crashing outside the open window mingled with the rustling of clothes as Lewis quietly moved around the room, sorting through his suitcase.

Y/n stirred in bed, slowly waking as the morning light filtered through the curtains. The warmth of the sheets wrapped around her bare skin, and she stretched lazily, enjoying the moment before opening her eyes.

Lewis noticed the movement and glanced over, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He was already dressed in a pair of jeans, his tattooed chest still gloriously bare, displaying the defined muscles that always made Y/n’s heart skip a beat.

He walked over to the bed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on her lips. “Morning, beautiful. There’s breakfast on the table—your favorite.”

Y/n hummed in response; her eyes still half-closed as she took in the sight of him. “You’re spoiling me” she murmured, a playful smile curving her lips. As she propped herself up against the headboard, she held the sheets under her arms, only her shoulders exposed.

Lewis chuckled, straightening up as he moved back to his suitcase. “Always”.

He reached for his belt, threading it through the loops with practiced ease. Y/n watched him intently, her gaze following every movement as he secured the belt around his waist, the muscles on his back deliciously flexing.

As he picked up his cologne and spritzed a bit on, getting his skin to glow under the soft lights, Y/n couldn’t resist teasing him. “I love your tanned skin, truly. But I think you’re going to cause an accident if you don’t cover up.”

Lewis laughed, the deep, rich sound filling the room. He turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? Is that so?”

She nodded, eyes twinkling with mischief. “How is anyone supposed to focus with you walking around looking like that? We might need to put a warning on you.”

With a playful growl, Lewis closed the distance between them in a few quick strides. He leaned over the bed, his hands braced on either side of her, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.

The sheets slipped down her chest, revealing her breasts and in a blink of an eye she felt his warm skin against her chest, the scent of his cologne mixing with the salty air as she buried her face into him.

“You jealous, pretty girl?” Lewis whispered in her ear, his voice a low rumble that made her breath hitch. His breath hot against her skin, and the closeness of his body, the way his muscles rippled under her skin made her pulse quicken.

Y/n pressed herself closer to him, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered back, “Maybe a little.”

His response was immediate and fierce. He captured her lips in a searing kiss, his mouth moving against hers with a passion that took her breath away.

Y/n melted into him, her hands threading through his hair as he pulled her closer. The world outside ceased to exist as the only thing that mattered was the feel of his lips on hers, the way his hands roamed her exposed body.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. Lewis wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest as he nuzzled her neck.

“You’re trouble” he murmured against her skin, his voice laced with affection.

She laughed softly; the sound muffled against his chest. “Learned from the best.”

He pulled back slightly to look at her, his eyes focused on her, desire evident in how he scanned her responses. “You’re gonna get me in trouble if you keep this up,” he warned, but the smile on his face betrayed the seriousness of his words.

Y/n smirked, her hands sliding down his chest. “Maybe I like you in trouble.”

Lewis chuckled again, the sound vibrating through her body. He kissed her once more, softer this time, before reluctantly pulling away. “I’ve got to finish getting ready,” he said, though the regret in his tone was evident.

Y/n sighed, leaning back against the pillows, pulling back up the sheets to her chest as she watched him study her movements. He smiled and reached for her again, like he couldn’t resist another kiss – again and again.

She laughed softly mid kiss, his lips moving while in contact with hers “We can save that for later”.

“Later is it” she agreed.

But Y/n’s mind drifted back to just a few days back, in a sun-soaked summer in Madagascar, where the heat was so intense and the air thick with the scent of salt and humidity.

The ocean had been her sanctuary, a cool escape from the relentless sun, and she had just returned from a dip, water droplets glistening on her skin as they caught the golden rays.

Lewis had been sitting in a shaded spot on the beach, a towel lost over his lap and a glass of Almave, on the rocks, in his hand. His legs were spread out in that casual, confident way he had, and his skin—rich and chocolate-brown—gleamed under the sunlight, shimmering like liquid gold.

He looked utterly irresistible.

As soon as he saw her, a slow smile spread across his face, and he opened one of his arms wide, a clear invitation. Y/n couldn’t help but smile back, that familiar pull toward him.

She wanted him—she always did—but something about this moment, with the sun warming his skin and the relaxed atmosphere of the island, made her want him even more.

“Come here, pretty girl” he murmured, his voice soft. His eyes never left her as she walked over, the droplets of ocean water still dripping from her body.

When she reached him, his arms slid around her waist, pulling her closer. The heat from his sun-soaked skin contrasted sharply with the coolness of her own, a shiver running through her body.

He noticed and chuckled softly, his breath tickling in the skin of her arm.

“You’re freezing,” he remarked, though his hands moved slowly, confidently, up and down her sides, warming her with his touch.

“You’re the one burning up” Y/n countered, leaning into him as she stole a sip from his glass. The drink was strong and sweet, just like the tropical paradise they were in.

She held the drink between them for a moment before taking another small sip, feeling the warmth spread through her chest.

Lewis watched her, his eyes darkening as she stood close, her body glistening in the sunlight. “You’re not planning on just standing there, are you?”

She tilted her head, pretending to consider. “I suppose I should sit down then” she said, feigning reluctance as she looked at his lap.

Lewis’s grin widened, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Saved a spot, just for you,” he said, patting the towel-covered area on his lap invitingly.

Y/n moved to sit, but just before she could, he pulled her down with a sudden, playful tug. She landed with a soft gasp, her legs straddling his thighs as she settled against him. His sun-warmed arms wrapped around her, holding her securely in place as he leaned in to press a kiss to her shoulder.

Y/n smiled, her eyes fluttering shut as she let herself relax against him. “Glad you know this is my spot” she whispered, her voice soft and content.

Lewis’s hand slid up to her chin, gently tilting her face toward him. “Always, love” he said, his voice low and sincere. His lips finding hers in a tender kiss, his hand holding her steady.

When the kiss broke, Y/n kept her eyes closed, savoring the lingering taste of him on her lips. “You know, I wouldn’t mind sitting a little higher up,” she murmured, her voice teasing as she opened her eyes to meet his gaze. “But I think we might draw a crowd.”

Lewis chuckled, the sound vibrating through her body. He glanced around at the people milling about, some of whom had discreetly averted their eyes from the couple’s private moment.

“You might be right,” he admitted, though the mischievous glint in his eyes told her that he wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea.

She laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We can save that for later.”

“Later it is,” he agreed, his hand moving to the small of her back, tracing lazy circles against her skin.

The memory of their sun-soaked afternoon in Madagascar still lingered in Y/n’s mind as she felt the warmth of Lewis’s body pressed against hers. The present slowly came back into focus as his lips found hers again, grounding her in the moment.

Y/n sighed into the kiss, her arms tightening around his neck as she pulled him closer. When they finally broke apart, she chuckled, her breath coming in soft, uneven pants. “Don’t start something we don’t have the time to see through, Lewis,” she warned, though her tone was more playful than serious.

Lewis grinned, his eyes shining with that familiar mischief that always made her heart flutter. “Who says we don’t have time?” he teased, his hands roaming down her back, fingers brushing the curve of her hips.

She shook her head, laughing softly. “You’ve got a ride to catch, journalists to swoon, a car to get ready, and I’d rather not be responsible for you missing it.”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Are you saying you don’t want me to stay?”

Y/n’s eyes sparkled as she gave him a teasing smile. “I’m saying I don’t want to be the reason you’re late, Lew.”

Lewis let out a dramatic sigh, but the smile never left his face. “Unfortunately, you’re right” he conceded, though his reluctance was clear. He pulled back slightly, just enough to help her adjust the sheets back over her chest, his touch lingering on her skin as he did so. “But I’ll make it up to you tonight” he promised, his voice low and sincere.

Y/n smirked, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her own ear. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He leaned in, pressing a quick, lingering kiss to her lips before finally pulling away completely. “Dinner on the beach, just like last year?” he asked as he stood up, his gaze still locked on hers.

She nodded, a warm smile spreading across her face. “I’d like that.”

Lewis gave her a final, affectionate smile before turning to the mirror by the side of the room. He adjusted the cardigan on his shoulders, carefully fixing the safety pin that held it together. Y/n watched him, her gaze trailing down his body as he straightened up and turned to face her.

She arched one of her eyebrows slightly as she took in the sight of his abs on full display, the lines of his muscles sharp and defined in the morning light. She couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped her lips, and Lewis caught it, his grin widening in satisfaction.

“Like what you see?” he asked, his tone dripping with teasing confidence.

Y/n shook her head, though her smile betrayed her. “I do” she admitted, her voice soft as she admired him openly. “But that safety pin right there is holding on for dear life.”

He laughed, the sound rich and full of amusement as he stepped closer to her again. “Glad you liked it” he said, his voice low and playful. “I only care about what you think.”

Y/n rolled her eyes affectionately, but the smile on her face was genuine. “Flatterer.”

“I’ll be back before you know it” he promised, his eyes filled with warmth as he picked up the last of his things.

When he finally turned to leave, he paused at the door, looking back at her with a smirk. “You’re gonna miss me?”

She laughed softly, blowing a kiss to him “I’ll save it for later.”

“Later it is” he agreed one last time.

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[yourmomsawh0r3]

Could you do a benedict bridgerton x wife reader where she's having a bath when benedict interrupts and joins her

Steamy

Benedict Bridgerton x wife fem reader

Benedict arrived home later than usual that evening, the weight of the day’s engagements still lingering on his shoulders. As he walked through the grand hallways of Bridgerton House, the flickering candlelight cast playful shadows on the walls, creating a soothing atmosphere that promised respite from the bustling world outside.

His thoughts drifted to his wife, Y/N. Her laughter, her smile, the way her eyes sparkled when she was excited all these memories brought a gentle smile to his lips. He couldn’t wait to see her, to hold her in his arms and let the world fade away.

Benedict made his way upstairs, his footsteps soft on the polished wood floors. As he approached their private quarters, he noticed a faint, melodic sound. It was the gentle splash of water, accompanied by a soft hum. He pushed the door open quietly and stepped inside.

There she was, Y/N, sitting in the clawfoot bathtub, her eyes closed and a serene expression on her face. The room was warm, the air filled with the delicate scent of lavender and rose petals that floated on the water’s surface. Candles placed strategically around the room bathed everything in a golden glow, making the scene almost ethereal.

Benedict’s breath caught in his throat. He stood there for a moment, just watching her, entranced by her beauty and the tranquility of the scene. Y/N opened her eyes and smiled when she saw him, her cheeks flushing slightly.

“Good evening, my love,” she said softly.

Benedict’s smile widened as he walked over to the tub. “Good evening, darling,” he replied, his voice low and filled with affection.

Without another word, he began to undress, his eyes never leaving hers. Y/N’s gaze followed his movements, a mix of curiosity and desire in her eyes. As he removed the last of his clothing, he stepped into the tub, the warm water enveloping him.

He settled behind her, pulling her close so that her back rested against his chest. She sighed contentedly, leaning into him as his arms wrapped around her. They sat like that for a moment, enjoying the closeness, the feel of each other.

“Benedict,” Y/N murmured, her voice a mere whisper.

“Yes, my love?” he replied, his lips brushing against her ear.

She turned her head slightly to look at him, her eyes dark with desire. “I’ve missed you.”

Benedict’s heart swelled with love and longing. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumb caressing her cheek. “I’ve missed you too, more than words can say.”

Their lips met in a gentle kiss, a slow exploration that quickly turned passionate. Benedict’s hands roamed over her body, caressing her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

The steam from the bath began to fog up the windows, creating an intimate cocoon that shut out the world. The heat of the water and their rising passion mingled, making the air thick and charged with electricity.

Benedict’s lips trailed down her neck, eliciting soft moans from Y/N. He could feel her heartbeat quicken, matching his own. Their hands moved with increasing urgency, exploring, teasing, igniting a fire that consumed them both.

Y/N turned in his arms, straddling his lap, her eyes locked onto his. There was a moment of stillness, a shared breath, before they came together in a fervent embrace. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a dance of love and desire.

The water sloshed around them, spilling over the edge of the tub, but they paid no mind. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them, lost in each other. The windows were now completely fogged up, the room filled with the sounds of their passion.

Time seemed to stand still as they reached the peak of their desire, their cries of pleasure echoing softly in the steamy room. They clung to each other, their bodies trembling with the intensity of their release.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, they remained entwined, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating as one. Benedict pressed a tender kiss to Y/N’s forehead, his fingers gently stroking her back.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

“I love you too, Benedict,” she replied, her eyes shining with tears of happiness.

Eventually, they reluctantly left the tub, the chill of the air sending a small shiver through Y/N. Benedict, ever attentive, quickly wrapped a plush towel around her, his hands moving gently as he dried her off.

“Let’s get you comfortable,” he said softly, guiding her to the bed.

He retrieved her nightgown, a soft, silky garment that felt like a caress against the skin. Benedict helped her into it, his fingers brushing against her bare skin, sending shivers of a different kind down her spine. His touch was tender and filled with love, his gaze never wavering from hers.

Once she was dressed, Benedict guided her to lie down on the bed, her muscles already beginning to relax. He straddled her hips, his strong hands starting to knead the tension from her shoulders. His thumbs worked into the knots with practiced ease, eliciting a deep sigh of contentment from Y/N.

“You’re so good to me,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed as she let the sensation of his hands work their magic.

“You deserve nothing less,” Benedict replied, his voice low and soothing.

His hands moved down her back, working out every bit of tension, every stress of the day. The warmth of his touch seeped into her muscles, relaxing her completely. Y/N felt as though she was melting under his ministrations, her body becoming languid and heavy with contentment.

As he finished, Benedict leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her neck. “How do you feel, my love?”

“Wonderful,” she whispered, turning her head to capture his lips in a soft kiss.

He smiled against her lips, his hand cupping her cheek. “Good. Now, let’s get some rest.”

He lay down beside her, pulling her into his arms. They fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle, their bodies molding to each other as if they were made to be together. As they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, Benedict couldn’t help but feel grateful for the life they had built together.

And with that comforting thought, he drifted off to sleep, holding the woman he loved more than anything in the world.

[oldsoul007]

Whispers in the Ward

doctorcharliemayhewxnursereader

a/n: I wanted to write about Dr. Charlie even tho I love father charlie. Sooo this is kinda following the plot but y/n and charlie were together in Lois coma…. not proofread

Dr. Charlie Mayhew was a dedicated and skilled physician, known for his calm demeanor and exceptional care. Me, equally committed and compassionate, worked alongside him in the bustling hospital. We had a great professional relationship, often relying on each other during the most challenging cases.

One day, we were assigned to care for a patient named Mrs. Lois Tryon , who had been in a coma for several weeks. Miraculously, Mrs. Tryon woke up one afternoon when Dr. Charlie was assigned to pass her on, much to the delight of Charlie and I. As she slowly regained her strength, she began sharing vivid dreams she had experienced during her coma to a specialist.

"You two were always together in her dreams," the specialist told us."It was like you were a couple, always by each other's side, as a priest and detective, but in some perverted ways.” Charlie and Lauren exchanged amused glances, at the specialist comments. "Well, we're just good colleagues," Charlie said, smiling. I felt a little pit in my stomach when he said that.

As the days went by, the specialist words lingered in my mind. I found myself thinking about him more often, noticing little things I hadn't before. Sure charlie is an attractive guy but I never thought I’d be with him in that way. He’s my boss, I appreciated Charlie's wisdom and gentle nature.

One evening, after a particularly long shift, we ended up in elevator together. As the elevator doors slid shut, the air between Dr. Charlie and me crackled with unspoken tension. “Maybe Mrs. Tryon was onto something," Charlie said, breaking the comfortable silence. "I've been thinking a lot about what the specialist told us she said, and I can't help but wonder if there's more between us than just being colleagues."

I looked into his eyes, feeling a flutter in my chest. "I've been thinking the same thing, Charlie. I really enjoy spending time with you, and I think there's something special between us." "Let's see where this goes, y/n. I think we owe it to ourselves to find out." Without another word, Charlie closed the distance between us, his hands gently cupping my face. Their eyes met, and in that instant, the world outside the elevator ceased to exist. Slowly, he leaned in, our breaths mingling as our lips finally met in a searing kiss.

The kiss was intense, filled with all the passion and longing we had kept bottled up for so long. Charlie's hands slid down to my waist, pulling me closer as our bodies pressed together. My fingers tangled in his hair, deepening the kiss as i poured all my feelings into that one moment.

Time seemed to stand still as we kissed, the elevator continuing its silent ascent. When we finally pulled apart, both were breathless, our foreheads resting against each other.

As the elevator doors opened, we knew that nothing would ever be the same.

[seneon]

EYES DON'T LIE ──── prince! touya × fem warrior! reader.

about. the crown prince can't tear his gaze away from the warrior girl. set in edo period, rural japan! au. written from age to age. a bittersweet romance. touya is written as touya ( before dabi existed ) includes his stimming in some parts, minor mentions alcohol and blood, death. wc of 5300+

notes. silly tsundere prince who has a thing for his strong independent warrior UEGJ I'M IN LOVE. if you didn't know i love rural japan stuff. perhaps courtesan!reader next??

𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀��𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, there was a birthday celebration held for the crown prince tōya of the todoroki royal family. his turquoise gaze briefly rushed past the crowd in boredom, looking forward to the end of the day already. even as a young prince, he never found anything in the royal events intriguing.

his birthday was no different. as a child of eight years, he already felt like he knew the darkest secrets of the world, the ones that were locked away to the underworld for the reapers of hell to deal with.

prince tōya sat with his family, seated between his sister and brother, both younger than him. as his eyes roamed around, they came to a halt the moment they landed on eyes that sternly looked around. tōya ceased his chewing for a second, staring at the owner whom those stern gaze belonged to.

“fuyumi, natsu, can little girls become warriors?” the curious prince asked, tilting his head to the side, his gaze never leaving the little figure that stood by taller ones.

fuyumi followed her elder brother's gaze. she has just spoken to the girl that stood beside honourable warriors and soldiers. the princess could feel a smile surfacing at the sight of little eight year old you, mimicking your father and his comrades to serve as guards of the party.

“that is y/n! kuromiya y/n, she's the daughter of the general.”

“daughter of the general?” tōya repeated, his tone twisting into curiousity. he resumed his chewing before swallowing. “i didn't know general kuromiya had a daughter…”

the younger prince popped a bite of a monkfish, chewing it to taste the flavour before beaming with satisfaction. the fish was fresh and amazing. firm texture, a refined sweetness with a clean aftertaste.

“she follows her father around a lot, brother. you might get to see her more often.”

just as the crown prince pondered on his brother's words, you looked around, eyes and senses all together alert for any danger that might strike. then, your gaze traveled to the young crown prince, freezing upon his gaze which was locked on yours.

in your eight year old mind, it is rude to stare at people of nobility and royalty. so you quickly looked down at your feet, afraid that perhaps the crown prince might tell of your discourtesy to the king and queen. if that is the case, your eyes will certainly be gouged out the fingers of an executioner.

you shivered at that thought, feeling your father's arms resting on your shoulders as you looked up at the huge man.

“anxious, little warrior?” asked your father as he bent down to your eye level.

you shook your head, fingers grazing at the corner of your eye sockets. “my eyes are going to be plucked out, father. i stared at the crown prince for too long..”

your words made the general raise a brow before he chuckled, a roaring laughter emitting from the back of his throat as you simply stood there in confusion. the man tells you that you shouldn't worry about staring at the prince for way too long, because he noticed that the young todoroki also has his gaze on you the moment he sat down to eat.

you calmed down a little. just a little, though.

𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐄𝐍, you excel in kyūjutsu, the art of archery. supposedly, you are a natural in the field of long-range attacks, never a loyal servant to the close-ranged such as a blade.

crown prince tōya did not like the fact that there is a soul who dared to take his place as the most supreme in a field. he would occasionally grumble, roll his turquoise eyes, and repeatedly tap his feet on the ground whenever you overtake his arrows in a much more professional way.

he silently cursed you for having a father that is idealistically superb in the field of archery, since your father specializes in serving the king as his eye during battle. tōya simply couldn't stand the fact that a mere girl is better at something he should be good at.

so one day, the young prince approached you as you were firing your shots in the archery academy. you never falter even as he stood behind you, his gaze burning into your back as you ever so calmly shoot arrows repeatedly. one by one, each arrow that overlapped the other, completely tearing the previous one out.

“you're not very girly are you? shooting arrows like how a soldier is supposed to do that,” the prince said, eventually breaking your momentum with his childish and immature words. your arrow did not overlap the previous one. instead, it went a bit over the bullseye, eyes immediately shooting glares at the prince who watched you with furrowed eyebrows.

“that is rude, don't you think, your highness?” you lowered your bow, face twisting into a frown.

tōya shrugged. “nope. i mean, you're the only girl in the archery academy! yet the only one who's genuinely good at shooting a bunch of… stupid arrows...”

his words are uttered with frustration, let loose like a curse through gritted teeth. you noticed that his cheeks are a bit flushed, as if they have been covered in blush that was extracted from red ochre.

“your highness, i believe you caught a cold. your cheeks are red,” you pointed at the prince as he flushed even redder, his feet moving to stomp away.

“i-i’m not sick!”

𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍, the crown prince hunted his first live animal to present it to his parents as a trophy and a remembrance piece of his first hunt. of course, the todoroki family is proud, even little prince shōto who gave his brother the littlest of claps.

on the other hand, you stood by your father, watching the royal family's interaction. your eyes might be on the sweet family, but your mind wanders right to the cuts and bruises that tōya received when he hunted for the animal.

your fingers twitched slightly, resisting any urge to pull away the prince from his family just to force him into treating his wounds. the prince is smart. he hides his newly-received marks with layer upon layers of cloth, allowing it to seem like a gear when in reality, it stains his skin dirty.

but you knew. you were with the prince when you hunted with him, assisting your father.

“father, i know it's a crime. but do you mind stealing the prince away?”

so that same day at night, when the military army discusses their plans about the next battle, you're in the room of your friend-enemy, telling him to stop moving around and sit still as you tend to his wounds.

poor tōya, his wounds left unattended for the whole day and only treated at night. you knew the crown prince is stubborn enough to not pay a visit to the family doctor just to get himself treated, so you'd rather get medical knowledge just to treat a stubborn prince.

he's such a hard wall to break too, always putting up a façade that he's so strong and independent wherein he really is just a child who seeks to be the best and to live up to the expectations of the country as its prince.

the colour turquoise is practically imprinted in the skin of your fingers and hands now, having the prince to stare at you working your hands so skillfully to patch him up without trying to tickle a burn or torn skin.

with such silence, the boy moved his gaze upwards, now staring at your face which was so focused on patching him up. tōya searches for a reason in your focused eyes, attempting to find a reason as to why you would stick around to help him with such stupidity.

tōya couldn't help but feel heat rising up to his cheeks, even if his lips are still and his gaze is still locked onto your face. he takes in your feature, your beautiful features that has him in an unbreakable trance.

he wonders just why in the world would you want to be a warrior that will eventually stain your precious face with splatters of the enemy's blood instead of the snowflakes that would paint your cheeks a rosy hue.

“your highness… prince tōya,” you called out, waving your hands in front of his face before he snapped out of his daydreaming, fluttering his eyes a little.

“you were staring, your highness.”

not again. he's been caught doing that so many times it is almost easy to catch him staring. specifically, his gaze is on you, always you. as tōya grows older, he gets smarter than the age he was before. he's quick to act now.

“i’m not. i’m looking at the candle behind you,” the crown prince lied as if he's telling the truth. it flows down his tongue so smoothly, like the waters in the lake that dances forward.

he will never admit the fact that he was just daydreaming and wondering about you into the unknown. no, never. the prince will never embarrass himself with a mere girl that is just a tad bit better than him in archery.

he moves his hands and arms, slightly wincing at the sore.

“you should rest, your highness. i shall take my leave now,” you bowed at the prince, standing up before leaving him alone, not even staying to listen to whatever regards he might have kept in stock for you when his mind travelled to the back of his mind.

crown prince tōya laid down, holding his hands up in the air as his mind once again replayed the images of you treating his wounds. it played in his mind over and over again as if the memories were an old stop motion film.

“what a bother,” he murmured under his breath before covering his turquoise eyes with the back of his hands, covering an initial blush that started building up along the heat of the candle before he blew it off to have his rest.

𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍, you are presented to the crown prince as his retainer upon joining the military ranks. however, the prince isn't delighted in the least at the idea of having a girl as his personal follower.

he tells the king, the general, and you— that he is capable of protecting himself and has no need for a retainer, let alone someone of the opposite gender. tōya isn't keen on bringing a girl to the battlefield where she has to protect him. it makes him feel absolutely pathetic.

despite despising the entire ordeal of you being his personal servant, his mind changed a little when you got on your knees to vow and promise your life to the prince.

“your highness, i ask that you use me. i am your eye, the one who will look after your back or your front in battles. i swore to lay my life down for you, crown prince tōya.”

tōya wanted to protest, to tell you in your face that you are not supposed to be the one doing that. he wants to tell you to stand up immediately and ask that you leave. but he knows all too well that in his weaknesses, there's strength.

you are his strength. you are the one that will cover for his one weakness and complete him. crown prince tōya does not want to protest anymore. he is too tired to let any word slip out from the tip of his tongue anyway. so he only lets out one simple sigh.

that one sigh that told the warmth of your heart that the prince is all the more appreciating your dedication to serve him until death.

he will be sure to use you well as his eye.

𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍, the eavesdropping ears of the young boy pondered upon the conversation between the general and the lieutenant general. they speak about the coming of age for the general's daughter.

her birthday is coming up very soon. and at the sixteenth birthday of a girl marks her age of legality. her youth and beauty is at its finest. to be dressed in silk, expensive makeup and be wedded to a man is the standard life of a woman.

“my wife and i will celebrate her birthday, do not fret,” said general kuromiya to his lieutenant. “we have not celebrated her birthday in a few years because of how busy the military gets. but, we've cleared some time for our girl's special day.”

tōya hears the lieutenant chuckle then speaking. “if your daughter isn't the crown prince’s retainer, are you going to arrange your daughter into marriage with a noble?”

upon hearing those words, tōya furrowed his eyebrows. it is as if those words were the sharpest of blades ever forged which had just impaled the skull of the todoroki.

his mind is a mixture of curiousity and anger. curiousity for the wanderer mind, and anger for the mind that remained. he could not pick one emotion to feel.

how could the lieutenant speak of such things to the general about his daughter?

and even so, the thought of you being arranged into a marriage with a noble tickles the back of his mind where his pent-up frustration and anger is kept in the dark. he might not be fond of the idea of you becoming his retainer a year ago, but he isn't exactly fond of the idea of you being a normal girl and being wedded to one of those wretched nobles.

if there's anything he did get from eavesdropping, that is that your sixteen birthday is in a week. and he spent a whole week thinking about it.

during missions, visiting a neighbouring village, meeting the citizens and villagers to offer services, hunting, training. whatever that was on the prince’s agenda. he could not get your birthday out of his mind.

when the general's small team along with you and the prince walked through a rather busy city, tōya finally set his mind on a specific subject for your birthday.

he watched in silence beside you as the both of you ventured into a shop that sold all clothing essentials. some of your gears are ruined from the previous hunt, and this is a great opportunity to purchase some items to fix your gears.

your eyes flickered at each corner of the store in search of your desired items. but occasionally, they come to a halt at a few jewelries that were on display. the beautiful blinking ones that beautiful women wear in their hair.

tōya sees you staring at pretty hairpins, and his gaze switches to your hair, wrapped in a topknot that he has never seen falling before. the prince doesn't even know if you even knew how to place a hairpin in your hair. well whatever, he now knows what he's going to give you for your birthday as a great and loving prince to his beloved retainer.

on the night of your birthday, a nicely wrapped rectangle box appeared on your windowsill as you were cleaning your arrows. crippling curiousity overflowed from you as you opened it, eyes widening in surprise at the content inside the box.

there it is, a hairpin which colour perfectly matches the hue of your eye. it was custom made, you can tell, since such a colour isn't so easy to be made into a hairpiece.

regardless of the surprise, you cannot fathom your imagination on who could've given you such a beautiful thing. you opened a supposedly jewelry box and looked at yourself in the tiny mirror before beginning to let your hair down, brush it, and tie it like the girls on the streets with pretty hair and pretty kimono. at last, you set the hairpin in your hair, fingers caressing the metal piece.

such a sight to behold . . . it made tōya’s heart flutter at the sight of you with your hair down, the hairpin beautiful set in your hair. he isn't going to fall for this absurdity though, considering how he just sneaked in the manor of the kuromiya family and swiftly placed your gift on your windowsill.

he clicked his tongue in annoyance. annoyance in himself for committing such a ridiculous thing and all for such a foolish reason.

all for his eyes to watch as the corner of your lips curved into a sickeningly warm smile which twisted at his lower abdomen and in return, granted him a moment to admire you with a lovesick gaze.

you looked extremely beautiful with the hairpin.

𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍, at one of the days where you are off duty from serving the prince, you attend a party with your father instead— as his daughter. the daughter and the heiress of the kuromiya family.

not seen as a military officer or a servant of justice, you are present as the daughter of the honoured general and a woman of the kuromiya house.

dressed in the finest silk of the kimono found in that age with a dolled up face and beautifully brushed hair.

tōya of the todoroki family isn't a prince at that moment. he is a normal guest at that party. this is not his party, he only arrived because he was invited by the general.

but gosh, from heaven and back and for the love of the twinkling stars in the universe, he could not tear his gaze off of you. he has never in his entire life seen you so proper, so ladylike and poised.

it was like a whole new different person to him. the only thing that remained the same is the hairpin that was sticking out from your little bun, the extra pieces dangling to and back.

his heart flutters at the sight of you covering your mouth in utmost manner as you smiled and laughed at the other guests. you've greeted the man you've served, that's for sure. but he isn't the only one you have to entertain for the night. and somehow, he doesn't mind being like that, treated like any other normal guests and not being pestered by other souls.

familiar turquoise eyes keep making their way to yours, never plucking them off of you as you conversed through the night. he couldn't help it, he couldn't look away from such beauty. it was too overwhelming for the prince to handle.

it twists at his cold heart that tonight— you wouldn't speak to him that much, or even walk by his side. his insides did a little pout at the realisation at that very simple fact that you have no time for him.

however, the moment his gaze lingered onto her, his feet moved on its own to approach you, intrusively grabbing your hands to hold onto them, never letting go before his gaze bores into the soul of a samurai.

“this is my wife.”

and tōya makes sure the samurai's mind has that information burnt into him, albeit his grasp on your hands were let loose almost immediately after the man who was harassing you left.

there was an uncomfortable silence before you said a soft “thank you,” something you'd never ever say to the prince, to the man you serve. the prince walks a bit ahead of you, his back facing you like how it is always supposed to be. “whatever…”

you assumed he's going to walk away and leave you alone to entertain the other guests, but you invited the crown prince to ditch this aggravatingly bone-crushing party. so now, you two are alone by the lake, far away from people. the moon takes favour in the both of you, illuminating an equal amount of beauty.

yet somehow for this special night, you managed to shine and glow more than the prince himself.

“you look beautiful.”

your cheeks flushed. “uh, thank you..”

and there was silence again. this time, a comfortable silence with a reasonable distance between you and the prince by the lake and the moon reflecting onto the surfaces of the lake.

one more gaze, and tōya sees you smiling up at the moon. his heart aches and clenches inside of him, doing whatever tricks it could— including a race that would not last a horse.

todoroki tōya's eyes never lie. once they determine something is beautiful, it stays beautiful for an eternity.

𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘, the scent of strong alcohol hit your nose the moment you entered the prince’s lounge room. drunken men are laid all over, obviously wasted. the prince drinks, coming to a halt the moment he notices you standing at the entrance of the room, watching his every move.

“hello, dear retainer..” he grumbled under his breath as you went over to him to pluck the cup out from his fingers, draping his arm over your shoulders and balancing him up on his feet.

“you are drunk, my prince.”

“ah ah archer, you know.. my guys don't have retainers who're good at archery..”

“is that so?”

the prince hummed in response as he held your shoulder and wobbled in his steps. “you’re the best one in the entire country, y/n.”

“it's an honour. but you mustn't speak. your words are oddly disturbing to me,” you said, receiving a chuckle from the drunken prince.

it is true, the prince never touched on the topic of your archery skills. he is still angry at the fact that you excel at archery better than he is. even if it has been an entire decade of indirect competition. you will always surpass him with efficiency.

“i hate the way you always steal my attention, you damned retainer.”

your eyebrows furrowed at his words, glancing at him momentarily before sliding the door to his room open.

“my apologies,” you said softly with a tiny smile, leading him to his haven where he slumbers. “i didn't mean to do that.”

with that, you set him down his bed, plucking whatever piece of him that felt uncomfortable as his turquoise eyes burned into your soul, watching your every move.

the prince is silent, gaze following the way your fingers would graze the collar of his kimono or untie his obi to loosen it. his stomach felt like it was twisting at your touch, butterflies swarming around like fools at the pit of it.

he snapped out of his trance the moment you were going to stand up as he quickly grabbed hold onto your wrist.

“do not leave me…” he uttered, words so slurred from the alcohol that he consumed, grip tightening when he felt you lightly tugging your wrist away. “i said, do not leave me.”

“your highne—” your senses tingled as your back hit the soft futon on the ground.

both hands at either side of your face, the prince looks down at you through his half lidded turquoise eyes. you searched for a reason behind this action in those ethereally dangerous eyes of his. and there was only a hint of a dark desire.

“you make me sick to the bones.”

you held your breath, the prince letting out a heavy sigh as you felt his fingers gently grazing your cheeks, moving along the lines of your jaw. his touch fueled you on the inside, you have to admit to yourself. cold fingers with such a tender touch. it makes you yearn for him to continue his actions.

“who knows you would look so… beautiful, under me?”

as if warmth hasn't made their debut to your cheeks, he words gifted your cheeks a field of red roses. you were about to part your lips before his sweet traces along your jawline ceased, his weight falling onto you.

and then there was it. nothing else. just a drunken prince who fell into slumber after leaving his retainer in a flushed mess. you cursed under your breath and moved him off of you, tucking him into bed before brushing his hair as white as snow away from his face.

“you are murdering my mind and heart, your highness… it's been like that for so many years too..”

𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄, the prince puffed and panted at the cruel training given to him by his retainer upon orders of the king. you are to hone his skills to perfection in the fields of kenjutsu.

prince tōya does not know why he has to go through this rigorous training with someone who specialises with a bow and an arrow instead of a sword, but his tongue slips out curses of regret the moment he clashes his blade with yours after a whole decade.

he clearly underestimated you, never imagining the fact that your swordsmanship skills have been polished way over perfection until it appeared to the prince that you are ultimately the perfect warrior. and it itched his brains along with the tugging at his heart.

the both of you were well aware of an upcoming war that will possibly bring nations to an end. neither your father nor tōya's father has the time to spend on their respective children to train them, so it was only ideal that they trained each other.

“your highness .. we must continue to swing our blades…” you tell the prince, gripping the sword hilt with both hands.

“oh come on, you should shoot arrows, not play with swords in the first place,” tōya rolled his eyes and dropped his sword to the ground, taking a seat. “can't continue anymore.”

once again, your stamina outranks the royal prince. what a shame, you stood longer than he did before you followed him and seated yourself on the ground, falling backwards to hit the ground.

“i’m still not fit for swords, it seems…” you murmured as the prince is now seated beside your lying form, glancing down at you. “then stick to being the archer, my backbone. let me charge ahead. you will follow me behind.”

you looked at his eyes before switching to the clear blue sky. his eyes matched the colour of the sky perfectly, it made you tugged a smile at the corner of the lip along with his words that sunk into your mind.

“i will always follow you behind, prince tōya.”

the prince rolled his eyes and rested his chin on his palm, a tiny blush coating his cheeks rose. “you better not stray too far..”

“i won't. i’ll be right behind you,” you chuckled as the voice of the royal princess fuyumi called out, inviting you and the crown prince to have some tea with her.

the prince stands up to brush his hakama. then as you sat up. before you could push yourself off the ground, he held his hands out. you looked at his hands for a quick moment before accepting it and he pulled you up gently.

“imagine if this is the last time we'll ever leisurely spend time with each other… you know... before the war and stuff.”

“that is not a very nice thing to say,” you frowned at tōya's words as he chuckled. “i’m just kidding… it will not be. trust me.”

𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄, heaven forbid the prince to keep his words and promises to you.

oh dear, how could this happen? why is there an arrow stabbed right through your shoulders? why are you still clenching the reins when blood drips down your shoulders and stains your clothes wine red? why are you still marching forward to follow the prince right behind as you have told him you would?

the prince’s army came to a halt when he stopped his horse and went to catch your falling body into his arms, your blood seeping into the fabric of his clothes almost immediately.

you hear the prince call out to you over and over like it was a chant, a desperate chant that does not go through your ear. your mind is too hazy to even be focusing on the view in front of you.

you shut your eyes to relieve some of that blur and when you do, it's the prince's turquoise eyes that cover your field of vision. it has always been his eyes that pulls you back to reality, it pulls you from straying away too far. his eyes are that one thing that you always seek from the very start.

“shit, y/n, no no no no no….”

you hear him say, oddly clear that your mind isn't as hazy as it was before, thanking his eyes that pierced through your haziness to make way so you could see his face.

“why would you do that!?”

you knew he was referring to the moment where at the most unexpected moment, an arrow shoots the prince's way and you went to his side to serve as his shield.

you did it because you want to protect him. you did it because you have made a promise to be his eye. you did it because you didn't want him to be hurt.

you did it because you love and care for him.

“how dare you get hurt, y/n!”

it makes you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to hold an amount of pain, both on the outside and on the inside. you must not falter, you mustn't show weakness in front of the prince as his retainer and most loyal servant.

“i apologise, my prince,” you forced yourself to sit up, coughing up a smile that breaks tōya's heart.

“we have to get the arrow out now, quickly, and efficiently,” the prince calmly said in a stern voice, unsure of how to really react to this. the inside of his mind a whole raging calamity.

from this point onwards, the sleeves of his hakama is now completely stained from holding you in his arms. it drips down his arms like blood-soaked honey. his fingers are constantly moving around to squeeze your arm, his usual habit of stressful stimming clearly portrayed as his mind wanders everywhere in visible conflict.

“your highness, you can't! none of us are authorised medics! and she will bleed more if you take the arrow out!” one of tōya's soldiers exclaimed as you held the prince's hands to calm his stimming down.

“please, prince tōya. it's futile, the war is still ongoing. you must go back out there to fight.”

“without my archer? without my retainer? without my backbone!? how am i even supposed to stand without you!?” he cries out as you shut your eyes to contain the tears that are beginning to gather at the corner of your eyes.

“someone please. please just get it out of her...”

“i’ll be fine. please... your presence is needed out there,” you whispered.

“i don't want to go out there without you. not when there's still so much for us to do.”

you felt his fingers resting on your dirtied cheeks, caressing your face with such shakiness that your cheek is now dripping with the tears of the prince. one drop at a time, he wipes his tears on your cheeks with his thumb, this sickeningly despairing smile portrayed on his face.

it makes you want to clench your heart in nothing but for the sake of easing your pain. even if it hurts and pulls at your soul, you held his hands and leaned into his touch, holding his fingers tightly.

“i’m sorry.”

there's not even a moment where his eyes leave you, darting all around while trying to find a way to put you out of your pain. it twists and turns on the inside, fueling his debuting rage.

tōya rests his forehead against yours, his snow white hair falling onto your face as he gazes into your eyes, trying to find a way to find solace in your own gaze.

“i don't want to leave you alone.”

“but tōya," you dropped the formality. "my eyes feel heavy. i’m going to rest for a bit.”

turquoise eyes widened at your words before his hands held you tighter and embraced you into a hug so warm that you smiled your way out of his life.

TAGS ★ @saewako @hyoismbbg @bbluefllame @sweetheartsaku @raeson @little-red-insomniac @jujuonthatbeat444 @booksooks @merakijellyfish @redgie-69 @randomrosie01 @ephmeraloblivion @brbwritingfanfic @irenexj @falsesu @heyimseli @miscellaneous-silly-goose @3xiles @qxuanii

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[queenimmadolla]

𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

(dad!eddie x mom/pregnant!reader)

*NOT Mature, SFW — incorrectly flagged

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 • more of the pennyverse here.

Summary: . . . After almost losing you in a scare related to your preterm labor, Eddie is reluctant to meet his newborn son, whose life still remains on the line, until some convincing from you. warnings: angst, a whole lot of angst, near death experience, difficult pregnancy, early labor, preterm birth, talk of loss of infants, birth defects, happy ending.

a/n: congrats on making it to part two! we still have quite a bit of angst to get through but we're almost through the storm! this part (even though i wrote Wayne's World as a whole) was my favorite to write, and i'm sure you'll be able to guess why. word count is 6k. good luck and happy reading! and for the people mad about the long post, sorry, had the 'keep reading' tab on but it kept fucking with the format and eating chunks of it. you're gonna have to scroll. let me know what you think? ◡̈

Hours passed by, Penny had fallen asleep in his lap again and so had most of his friends with the exceptions of Jonathan who looked like he could really use the sleep, Eden and Wayne. Steve would snap awake every once and a while, careful not to jostle his sleeping girlfriend. Nancy was asleep on Jonathan’s shoulder while Argyle used Eden’s lap for a pillow. Barb and Robin were hanging off chairs in the most uncomfortable looking positions, Robin’s snores almost painful sounding. The ‘kids’ (teenagers) had been picked up by their parents, only agreeing to go home if they could come back to wait with him first thing in the morning. 

  Eddie didn’t rest for a single second, mind torturing him with horrible, horrible thoughts. One played in his mind on loop; he was holding Penny as he walked out of the hospital. They were on their own.

  It held him captive, he hadn’t even noticed your doctor approaching him until she gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Mr. Munson?”

  Wayne and Eddie traded quick glances and he handed Penny over, trying not to disturb her too much in his rush but she just curled up to Wayne.

  Eddie stood up, already feeling lightheaded. That voice in his head that had been torturing him whispered something cruel to him, enough to make him want to cease existing: maybe you, somewhere in this hospital, already gone and he didn’t know it. Was she about to confirm his worst fears?

  “I apologize for the fright we gave you. Your wife started hemorrhaging and she lost a lot of blood.”

  Yeah. Eddie’s world was ending. It was over.

  “But we were able to stop the bleeding and get her a transfusion. She’s stable and she’s going to be just fine.”

  The relief was almost crippling, the heaviest weight he’d ever felt on him was lifted. Eddie wanted to cry, he squeezed his eyes shut again, trying to compose himself before he broke down in front of another doctor.

  “We have her in a room, probably hold her for a couple of nights, depending on her recovery. Would you like to go see her?”

  “Yeah, yes, please.” He nodded rapidly, wiping furiously at his eyes. 

  Dr. Eisenberg nodded and began walking down the hall, “If you’ll follow me.”

  Eddie turned, ready to ask Wayne to look after Penny when Wayne cut him off, “Go. I'll let ‘em all know she’s okay and send ‘em home. They probably won’t be able to see her tonight or in the mornin’, but I’ll stick around. Let me know when I can come on up.”

  Eddie wanted to hug him, but he really needed to see you. 

  “Thank you, Wayne. For everything.” Then he was scrambling after Dr. Eisenberg, who had stopped to wait for him.

  The walk to your hospital room had Eddie ready to tear his hair out, he’d wanted to just ask your doctor for your room number so he could sprint the rest of the way because her pace was much too slow. He was desperate to get to you, to make sure you were really still alive.

  “Here we are,” she stated, pushing your room door open. “Hello, again, Mrs. Munson. I brought someone who’s been waiting for you.”

  Eddie’s breath hitched as Dr. Eisenberg stepped to the side and he finally saw you, eyelids heavy from whatever sedation you were still trying to pull yourself from, and a smile on your face that only widened when you locked eyes. 

  “Hi, baby,” you slurred, sleepy little smile not going anywhere. And neither were you. 

  The rush of emotions he was experiencing was too much, he burst into tears where he stood as Dr. Eisenberg closed the door behind her on her way out. 

  “Eddie…” you mumbled out, reaching the hand lacking an IV out to him. 

  Of course you were trying to comfort him, you were the one confined to a hospital bed, having just barely survived a traumatic birth and you were still trying to comfort him because you were perfect. 

  He slowly approached your bed, hot tears—he was surprised his body could even still produce more tears given how much he’d cried in the last few hours alone—streaming down his cheek. Eddie really did collapse when he reached you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

  You wrapped your arms around him, holding him to your chest as best as you could, though you had no idea why he was crying, brain too hazy.

  Eddie didn’t sob, just silently shook as he wet your neck, inhaled your scent, felt your warm skin and pulse beating beneath his lips. He hadn’t lost you, you were still here.

  Ideally, he’d be holding you and squeezing you hard enough to ensure you’d never leave his arms again, but even in his emotional hysteria, he was mindful of your condition.

  Eddie pulled away, large hands framing your face as he pressed desperate kisses all over your face, making sure every inch was caressed with his love before he focused on your lips, mouth meshing messily against yours.

  You could taste the salt of his tears, feel a couple of stray ones catching where your lips met. While he may have been feeling a mixture of emotions, all you could feel right then was content and still a bit sleepy from the anesthesia.

  When Eddie felt he’d conveyed his love for you sufficiently, he pulled away, a wet and hoarse chuckle escaping him when he realized you could barely keep your eyes open.

  “You sleepy, baby?”

  “Mhmm.”

  “Get some rest, sweetheart,” Eddie’s thumb stroked over your bottom lip before resting over the center of it, “just, please wake up.”

  “Okay,” you mumbled, eyes already shut. Still, you managed to press a kiss to his thumb before you slipped into a blissful slumber.

  While you slept, Eddie had one of the nurses phone up the waiting room and sent Wayne. The poor man looked exhausted, but the relief on his face was evident when he saw you sleeping peacefully. 

   He looked like he wanted to cry, too. Instead, he just cleared his throat, blinked to keep the tears away and spoke low so as to not disturb you or the sleeping toddler in his arms.

  “Everythin’ alright?”

  “With her?” Eddie’s red rimmed gaze drifted back to you, focused on the rise and fall of your chest. Still breathing, “Yeah.”

  Wayne nodded once and they both stood there in silence for a few minutes as the world began to turn again. Something still wasn’t right, felt wrong. He could tell by the tension his boy still had, arms crossed as he crouched in the seat next to your bed. 

  “And the baby?”

  Eddie flinched as if Wayne had shot a gun off in the air rather than mention his son.

  “I don’t know.”

  Wayne watched him with a careful eye, Eddie looked almost like he was vibrating from the force at which his leg was shaking, even your hospital bed appeared to be affected by it, though not nearly enough to disturb you.

  As much as he wanted to comfort him, for once, Wayne didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say and he had an inkling that anything that came out of his mouth wouldn’t be heard by Eddie. He was lost in the dark crevices of his own mind. 

  The most he could do was offer to give him some alone time, he was sure his boy wasn’t keen on others sticking around right now, even him. 

  “I’ll take Penny home, me and Maude’ll watch her.” 

  Eddie shook his head, a look of panic flashing over his face, “No, that’s alright. She can stay with me.”

  Wayne was reluctant, mouth set in a frown. Penny was a good girl, usually, but he didn’t know if Eddie could really handle her along with processing everything going on around him.

  “Really, we wouldn’t mind─”

  “I need her.” 

  That shut Wayne right up, he and Eddie shuffled to exchange Penny from his arms to her dad’s without waking her. She stirred momentarily then shoved her face into Eddie’s neck, her little body falling slack once more.

  Wayne gave his shoulder a good squeeze, ran his hand gently over Penny’s back before he leaned down—and in a rare show of affection—pressed a brief kiss to your forehead.

  As he was walking out of the room, Eddie felt the panic crawling down his throat again. He croaked out a broken, “Wayne─”

  Wayne paused in the doorway, turning to acknowledge Eddie but his nephew didn’t continue, just looked scared. For a moment, Wayne was caught off guard, sucking in a breath as his boy looked young for the first time in a couple of years. 

  Now, he knew you and Eddie were young. He’d been aware of it when you got together, aware of it when you told him you were pregnant with Penny but sometime after that, he stopped seeing your age, stopped seeing Eddie’s as the two of you grew up for her. Now, right then, he remembered with startling clarity that Eddie wasn’t even twenty-five. He looked so young because he was.

  Eddie didn’t have to say anything else because Wayne knew exactly what he wanted him to say.

  Wayne nodded slowly, mouth pressing into a firm line of determination, “Everything’s gonna be alright, kid.”

  Eddie choked up, held Penny a little tighter and Wayne went on his way.

  He found himself settling back into the seat he’d dragged near your bed, cradling Penny as she remained blissfully unaware and drooling on his scrub top.

  Wayne wasn’t wrong, she’d probably be a little too much for him but she was his kid, it wasn't like he could just hand her off to people when life came at him like this and he really did need her right now. Again.

  You were here and whole, but somewhere else in this hospital, a member of his little family was still slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t let the other one out of his sight, couldn’t lose her, too.

  Once more, Eddie remained restless as the hours passed. He sat in mostly silence. He’d turned on the tv near your bed, the volume high enough to drown out the sounds of the hospital outside of the room but much too low to wake you. Rain trilled against the windows, much more gentle than it had been earlier. The storm had also passed, and if there was even an ounce of humor in him, he would have been amused with how this storm seemed to fester like a black cloud looming over him. 

  It’d been a normal day up until he’d gone to Lucas’ birthday party, but he’d been skeptical about leaving you, worried something would happen. The metaphorical little black cloud formed over him, as a result, and so did the actual black clouds, quickly calling for wind and rain at high speeds. 

  And when Eddie had found out you were okay, you were alive, his black cloud disappeared, though it left behind damage and a cold atmosphere. The real storm had also run its course, leaving behind weather that reflected exactly how Eddie felt.

  Penny squirmed in his grasp, and he realized he’d tensed up so he quickly relaxed, shifting her into a more comfortable position in his hold. 

  “Why don’t you give her to me?”

  Eddie’s head snapped over to you, surprised to find you awake, somewhat lucid and watching him with a small smile on your face.

  “Because you just had your insides removed and put back in,” He smirked, another wave of relief washing over him. You’d woken up, you really were okay. You weren’t going to leave him.

  You rolled your eyes, making a vague hand gesture to brush the subject off, clearly the surgeons hadn’t removed your sass.

  “She’s tiny and there’s more than enough room on here for both of us.” You hissed as you slowly shimmied your way to the side of the bed and Eddie frowned.

  “Okay, how about you don’t move so we can limit the amount of heart attacks you give me today, yeah?” You knew Eddie must have been worried so you didn’t take the lack of humor behind his words and the tension on his face personally. 

  A quick glance at the clock confirmed your suspicions, “It’s three in the morning, Eddie. New day, but I’ll keep my antics to a minimum.”

  Insistently, you patted the spot next to you, perfectly Penny sized and high enough to guarantee she wouldn’t accidentally move against your incision.

  With a sigh, Eddie complied, gathering his daughter up. Tensing up disturbed her but full on moving her didn’t, most likely used to being carried into your home after she’d fallen asleep in her car seat or on the couch.

  She didn’t stir when he laid her down, either. You both had to rearrange her limbs into a more comfortable position, one that didn’t make it look like she was possessed. Once Eddie tucked her in, he let out another sigh and cast you an apologetic look, big brown eyes wide, glassy and full of sorrow.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.” It was the last thing you deserved after what you’d gone through.

  The sincerity in his voice almost hurt you, it was heavy, as though it carried more weight than just a simple apology for his tone. 

  You held out your hand and Eddie immediately slipped his over it, locking his fingers with yours, squeezing as his breath hitched. 

  Your hand was so warm and soft. At one point in the last twenty-four hours, he’d thought he’d never get to feel it again, never get to hold your hand or see your pretty face. Never get to say…

  “I love you,” he blurted out, the panic he’d felt earlier when he couldn’t remember the last time he’d said those three words to you climbed right out of his belly, trying to claw its way out of his chest. Eddie took in a shuddering breath, head shaking as a hot tear escaped its confinement, trailing down his cheek. He moved to the other side of the hospital bed, so he wouldn’t crush Penny, and took your face in his hands, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips, hoping he was able to convey just how much he loved you.

  He needed you to know.

  “Eddie,” you mumbled as he pulled away, only to hide himself in the crook of your neck again. You could feel his tears against your skin and it alarmed you. “I love you, too, baby. What’s wrong?”

  “I thought I was going to lose you,” he confessed and you felt your heart seize up, “I thought I was gonna lose you twice in the same damn day. I was so fucking scared, sweetheart.” 

  When he’d been driving to the hospital, there had been a moment when he wondered if you’d still be breathing when he got there. It made him want to throw up so he quickly squashed it and forced it to the back of his head. It hadn’t been ideal when he’d entered the operation room, he didn’t like seeing you get cut open but it was comforting to see he’d overreacted. You were getting a c-section, you weren’t on your deathbed.

  Until you had been. 

  And for the second time that day, he thought you were going to die, thought he’d somehow cruelly manifested this for you and himself.

  “I’m alright, Eddie.” You freed your hand, grabbing his to cradle your cheek with. 

  “See? I’m okay. You didn’t lose me, you’re not going to.” Eddie pulls away from his hiding spot to stare down at you, the wounded puppy look still firmly in place so you add a little humor, hoping to get a smile out of him, “There’s no way I’m checking out this early, I can’t risk you moving on when you look this good.”

  Eddie’s hand was so big his fingers were tucked into your hair, his palm alone took up most of your cheek. His fingertips lightly massaged the area of your scalp available to him as the hurt on his face morphed into an earnest look, somehow more vulnerable.

  “There’s no moving on from you, you’re taking my soul, my heart, all of it with you when you go. You’re the love of my life, my everything. And that—fuck, it terrifies me because I’d still have Penny to take care of and I wouldn’t know what to do. I wouldn’t know how to pull myself out of it, if it’d even be possible and quite frankly, I don’t ever want to fucking find out.”

  Eddie was more than happy to have those types of questions remain unanswered for the rest of his life.

  “You’d be able to do it, I know you would. You would be able to take care of Penny and the baby.” You knew he would, your husband would pull himself out of his depression to make sure your children were okay because of how much he loved them, despite his grief.

  Eddie flinched, something you were quick to clock. You didn’t need to ask, he could see the question reflecting in those beautiful eyes of yours. 

  He had to break the news. You were already in a frail condition and he had to tell you the baby you’d almost died to have, your son, might still die.

  “Honey, the baby—he—fuck, he’s uh…there’s something wrong with his heart.”

  The way your face plummeted shattered something inside of him. 

  “What?”

  “He’s got a hole in his heart, the doctor said it was pretty common amongst heart defects but since he was born so early, it’d be difficult to medicate him or perform an operation. All they can do is keep him under observation, he still might not make it because of how young he is.”

  You squeezed your eyes shut, head dropping back to meet your pillow as you tried, and failed, not to cry. Why was this happening? You blamed yourself, why hadn’t you been able to keep him in your belly? Why had your own body betrayed you? Why had you failed your baby?

  “This is all my fault,” you declared, eyes and cheeks growing wet with your tears.

  “No, no, sweetheart.” Eddie was not about to let you take the blame for something out of your control or even allow you to believe any of this was your fault. “You can’t possibly believe this is on you. These things happen, it obviously isn’t ideal, but it’s just circumstance. It’s not your fault and it’s not the baby’s fault. You did everything you could and more. Okay?”

  He leaned in, finger stroking gently across your cheekbone as he caught a tear. You sniffled, nodding once as he pulled you back together.

  “What does he look like?” You asked, snuggling back into the pillow as Eddie coddled you.

  He hesitated for a moment before he answered, “I—I don’t know.”

  That elicited a small frown from you, “You haven’t seen him yet?”

  Eddie swallowed hard, gaze moving away from you, “No.”

  You waited, watching a series of emotions pass over his features. Eddie often tried to keep his internal struggles to himself, a habit you noticed once you became friends with him (ironically, through some trauma bonding) and even into your relationship. You hadn’t expected him to confide everything in you right away, though you had let him know should he ever need someone to talk to, you’d be there.

  Now, it wasn’t a matter of if he would, it was when. It didn’t take him long. 

  “I don’t know—I guess,” he pursed his lips, eyes squeezing shut as he felt the all too familiar burn of fresh tears. How many times had he cried in the last twenty-four hours? He felt ridiculous to be so emotional, then again, he’d never thought he’d find himself in this tragic situation, so he was due for a couple of breakdowns, “I know if I go down there and I—I look at him, I’m gonna fall in love with him and then what? He dies. I can’t do that, not if I’m gonna lose him forever. I can’t.”

  Eddie was leaking tears, not yet sobbing but well on his way as he made his confession. He couldn’t stomach seeing his baby boy if he was going to be taken away from him, if the two of you would have to put a tiny little coffin—a size that should never have to exist—six feet into the ground. He’d been put through the fucking ringer but Eddie couldn’t do that. It would break him.

  Eddie’s confession had you crying as well, you shared his pain. You didn’t want to lose your baby, either. You couldn’t remember what he looked like through the haze of your fatigue when you’d given birth to him, but if you tried to think hard enough, you could remember how it felt to have him in your arms in the passenger seat of Wayne’s truck. The first time you’d held him and you hoped it wouldn’t be the last. 

  Even if it was, you were grateful you’d had the chance to and you knew Eddie would never forgive himself if he didn’t get to see him, didn’t get to meet him.

  “I know you’re terrified, Eds. It scares me, too.” You grabbed his hand just as it slipped away from your face, encouraging him to look at you. “I don’t want to lose him, either. I want to take him home. I want to cuddle with him, nurse him, take tons of pictures of him with Penny and with you, but most of all, I want to make sure he knows I love him.”

  It killed you to imagine your baby in an incubator, small, helpless and with no one but the nurses, who could make the time to check on him in between all their other patients, offering him comfort. Human contact. And if he did end up passing, he could do so alone in there, not knowing how loved he was. 

  “I know you love him, Eddie, and you don’t want to lose him. But you can’t lose him if you don’t have him, baby. I hate that this is even a possibility for us, but I’d rather have held him and lost him than to never have picked him up at all. I’ll be okay with whatever you decide, but do you really want him to die without having gotten to meet his dad?”

  Eddie let out a choked sob as he shook his head. He didn’t want his baby to die at all but you were right, if he did lose his kid, he’d spend the rest of his life agonizing over the same thing Eddie had been upset with himself for when he thought he’d lose you. He’d been unable to recall the last time he told you he loved you. Only, he’d know he never told his son. 

  “I’ll be right back,” he swore and you nodded just as he leaned down to give you a kiss. He wiped away his tears, inhaled a particularly violent sniffle and you watched as he left your room to finally meet his baby.

  Eddie felt almost disorientated as he navigated his way to the NICU. He’d been there once, briefly, to check on Penny when she’d been there for a few hours, but that was a couple of years ago and he’d needed the assistance of several nurses and staff to direct him, but he finally made it.

  The entrance room, where the viewing window was located, was nearly empty. There was a woman further down, gazing through the large window.

  Eddie approached it with caution and his heart racing a mile a minute. It wasn’t too difficult to find his baby. His son was in an incubator, close to the window and labeled ‘MUNSON’. For the first time, Eddie got to take his son in. He had been right, he fell in love with him at first sight.

  He was smaller than some of the other babies, bigger than others as well and surprisingly well developed. Kind of calmed Eddie’s nerves, just a little. He had a couple of monitor pads attached to his tummy with an additional one wrapped around his tiny foot. Other than the nasal cannula, baby Munson didn’t have a whole lot of tubes attached to him like Eddie had imagined and he could see a smattering of hair on his head, somewhat light in shade but he had a feeling it would darken soon to resemble his own. 

  It was hard to tell if Wayne and Penny were right in their description of him, Eddie couldn’t tell if he was still pale since the baby was cloaked in blue light, but he assumed his son had gained some color by then. Eddie also couldn’t make out his eyes, those were covered by some sort of eye cloth, most likely for protection. He looked a little odd, obviously resembled a baby and while his features were almost indistinguishable, appearing a little generic, as his face still needed to develop a little more, Eddie could see hints of familiar features. 

  He looked like newborn Penny, well, so far. Her features had obviously changed since then, and still were, but he was promising to look almost exactly like she had when she was born. And Eddie thought Penny looked a lot like you, so it got a smile out of him, regardless of the fact his son was bound to resemble his family.

  Eddie watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest with concern. Was he supposed to be breathing that fast? Was he okay? 

  “Which one is yours?”

  Eddie turned to peer over at the woman who’d asked him the question, “Munson.”

  Eddie watched as her gaze moved over all the incubators until they found the correct one.

  “Oh, he’s a cute one. And his breathing looks incredible.”

  “Really? It’s not too fast?” He asked, the worry in his voice obvious.

  “Considering it’s his first time pumping those lungs, I don’t think so, no. Looks like he’s breathing real good to me. Mine needs a little help.” She pointed through the glass to an incubator that housed a baby with a tube in its mouth as well as individual ones in each nostril unlike his son’s nasal cannula. Eddie felt horrible.

  “I’m sorry,” he tried to apologize but she waved him off, a smile still on her face. 

  “Don’t be, that’s all mine is here for. As soon as she figures out how to keep doing it on her own, she’ll be back with me and my wife.”

  Right on, Eddie thought. Before he could continue their conversation, a nurse knocked on the window.

  She gestured down to the baby, “Is he yours?”

  Wow, this glass must have been thin, he could hear her pretty good.

  For some reason, Eddie still assumed she couldn’t hear him and only nodded. She disappeared for a minute and emerged into the room through a large pair of doors. 

  “Would you like to hold him?”

  Eddie glanced at the other occupant and she gave him a nod of encouragement. 

  “Yeah,” he rasped out, turning to look at his son through the window once more, “Yeah, I would.”

  Eddie was nervous the entire time as she prepped him with instructions. While they were concerned about the hole in his son’s heart, he was well developed, had strong vitals, good reactions, even for thirty weeks. He was so good that had it not been for his heart, he probably would have been sent home at the same time as you, given your longer than average stay due to your c-section and preeclampsia.

  And when she placed him in his arms, the love he had for his son almost overwhelmed him. He couldn’t believe he almost denied himself this. 

  “Can I touch him?” He asked, after he’d stopped marveling at the small face—eyes still hidden—in his arms. 

  “Mhm, we’d encourage it. Babies, even born preterm, are still very much so human. He craves the contact, it might even encourage him.” 

  Eddie didn’t hesitate, fingers gently stroking over the soft fluff of hair on his son’s head. This close, he could see it all pushed towards the middle of his head, like a mohawk. His baby was already metal straight out of your womb, it made him chuckle. 

  The nurse stepped away to tend to another baby, giving him a little privacy. Eddie maneuvered his son so he was resting on his chest, little head pressed against the spot just over his heart.

  “Hi,” he whispered down to the baby in his arms, “I’m your dad.”

  Much to Eddie’s awe, the baby nuzzled his head against his chest, making him still. He didn’t know why, but he’d believed his son wouldn’t be able to move for some reason. It was nice to know he was wrong.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you, too,” he laughed, the sound soft, “I’ve been looking forward to it, you must have, too. You sure know how to make an entrance, huh? Couldn’t wait in your mom any longer?”

  Eddie ducked down to kiss his little head, lips remaining there as he moved to sit in one of the few chairs of the NICU. 

  “It’s okay, though. I’ve got you, daddy’s got you.” Even if the outcome wasn’t okay, right at that moment with his son in his arms, everything felt like it would be. And if his son needed encouragement, Eddie would give it to him. 

  “I’m sorry it took me so long to come find you, your mom had to talk some sense into me. She loves you a lot, you know? Probably jealous I’m down here and she isn’t, but only because she physically can’t just yet.”

  Eddie’s hand went to support the back of his head as he moved the baby down to hold in his hands, staring down at his little face. 

  “I’ll bring her down to see you again as soon as I can, though. So you gotta keep fighting, okay? I know things are hard for you right now, not as easy as the other babies in the hospital, but I know you can do it. I love you so much, your mom and I just want to take you home, so you gotta beat this, okay?”

  Eddie rocked his baby, gentle swaying motions as he pressed kiss after kiss to his head. 

  “I see you’ve made it down for a visit,”

  Eddie glanced up at the face of Dr. Houseman, she didn’t look as intimidating as she had when she’d first approached him in the waiting room.

  “Sorry to disturb you, but I’m very glad I caught you. I heard your wife is doing well.”

  “She is,” he confirmed, with a relieved grin. 

  “Good, I’m glad. Have you been given an update on your little guy?”

  Eddie recounted what the nurse had told him and Dr. Houseman looked pleased.

  “Well, I have more news for you. He’s proving to be much stronger than we’d initially anticipated, and while his vitals were already good on intake, they’ve improved tremendously in the last few hours and so have his responses. I think he’s figuring out what he’s capable of doing; how to breathe, how to move, how to eat—we introduced him to a rubber nipple to check his latch response and it’s good, not quite there yet, we’ll have to get creative with his feedings but I think he’ll be able to latch onto his mom soon.”

  She must have caught the way Eddie perked up at her use of the word soon. That meant his baby had a fighting chance.

  “These first few hours after a birth such as his and with his condition are crucial. While he’s still significantly weaker than an average full term newborn, your baby seems to be a fighter.  Should he survive this next night, I believe he’ll make it. He’d just need some time in here while the hole closes up, but it just might not be too much for him.”

  She left him with that news and a parting smile.

  Eddie held his son for a few more minutes before a nurse returned to put him back in his incubator. He hadn’t wanted to leave him, but he’d promised him he’d be back.

  When Eddie got back to the room, his heart was a little lighter and he was able to smile when he saw you giving Penny, who was now wide awake, kisses. He pressed his back up against the door and watched for a few moments as you leaned in and gave her a loud kiss. She’d go into a fit of giggles before demanding another with an again!

  “Daddy!” Penny beamed the moment she saw him and Eddie grinned as he made his way over, lifting her into his arms when she held hers up to him.

  “Hi, pretty one. You sleep good?” 

  “Uh-huh,” it was clear she was distracted and didn’t care about his questions, no, she had some of her own. “You see my baby?”

  Eddie raised an eyebrow, trading an amused look with you.

  “Oh, he’s your baby now?”

  “Ya, he’s—he’s my baby.” She nodded with a grin as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he leaned down to press his forehead to hers.

  “Well, then yes. I saw your baby,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her nose.

  “Wha’helooklike?” Penny blurted out, eyes wide as she waited for his reply. 

  “He looked a lot like you.” 

  “Nooooooo,” Penny laughed, shaking her head against her dad’s, “He is my potatoes, not anoda Penny.”

  “It’s true!” Eddie laughed with her as he put her back down by your side and leaned in to give you yet another—he’d never stop giving them to you—kiss.

  “He looks like her?” You asked, after you’d returned his kiss.

  “Mhm,” Eddie fell back into the seat he’d occupied hours earlier. “Looks like she did when she was a newborn. He’s not pale—like a potato,” he directed that part to Penny who just laughed into her little hands, “anymore, at least. I don’t know whose eyes he has, they were covered.”

  Eddie was right about you being jealous, you were practically green with it. 

  “I wish I could see him,” you stated sadly, frown on your lips. You knew, realistically, if he started to decline, they’d most likely let you out of bed to see him or bring him up to you, but still. You’d rather it not come to that.

  “Ran into his doctor while I was there, she said he’s got a better chance.”

  Your eyes lit up, “Really?”

  “I was just about ready to kiss her.” He nodded and you made a face, nose doing that adorable scrunch he loved so much.

  “Okay, well, don’t do that.”

  Eddie snickered, “It was a figure of speech, baby.”

  “I know, I’m just saying it on her behalf,”

  “On her behalf?” Eddie pouted, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

  “Yeah, I want to kiss her, too, but—uhm, Eds, you might need some sleep ‘cause—you’re hot, you really are, but you also look insane right now.”

  Eddie got up to make his way to the bathroom so he could see himself in the mirror, nearly jumping once he’d turned on the lights.

  His eyes were beyond bloodshot, his eye bags were dark and very apparent, his skin had an interesting almost gray like tinge to it and his hair was a wreck. Eddie looked like he belonged in a psych ward.

  “Jesus,” he shouted loud enough to be heard by you.

  “It’s okay, Eds. You’re still beautiful to me!”

  Eddie did end up sleeping. Turns out the chair he’d been sitting on was also a pull out bed. You insisted that he get some rest, and while he did, you changed Penny’s diaper and got some hospital room service for the two of you, you’d even picked something out on the menu for Eddie to eat once he woke up. 

[mortal-song]

the problem with tua's ending is that it was IMPOSSIBLE to do without retconning and defacing the themes and characterizations that have been central to the story since the very first episode. if you had to end it that way, if it really was "the plan all along," then fine. there ARE good ways to do that -- so the execution should have been much different here if that was the case. take a look at "the good place," for example. everyone ceased to exist at the end of that story as well, but it was beautifully done because it ADDED to the show's core themes rather than take away from them. tua's ending was hollow and unavailing. at some point i have to commend the precision with which someone can desecrate an entire series and certain characters (looking at five, diego and lila especially) like this.

it made no sense. diego and lila formed a beautiful (albeit chaotic) relationship built upon mutual trust and authentic love that neither of them had ever experienced before. it was something they were teaching each other and learning together. that was a new beginning to them, and it was painted as such by the narrative. at no point were there hints that things would go sideways, no build up. every time they stumbled in the past it was still right back into each other's arms. at no point did their chaos look like an ending until it was shoved in our faces for... shock value? to shake things up? i fail to understand where it came from. they were relentlessly devoted to each other and the only two people who could stand each other for long. and so what became of them was very jarring. very messy.

five's ENTIRE character has been focused on and motivated by one thing: saving the people he loves. to the point that he was willing to let his own humanity become a forgone ideal, a renounced concept, as many times as it took. to the point that he essentially INVENTED TIME TRAVEL and INVENTED THE COMMISSION TO REGULATE IT. five's stoic exterior only barely concealed the claw-grip he had on every single family member, so why forget it now? why choose to go back on that? and in what world would five hargreeves willingly wait MONTHS to return to his family? because he was SUDDENLY in love with lila, no less? forgetting the very apparent fact that his age and body are not in alignment, five had never shown any interest in romance. especially not towards lila. but they do have very similar backgrounds, and so this was a chance to enrich the mutual understanding five and lila have with each other, expand the familial connections they have, especially seeing as how both of them -- in their own ways -- spent most of their life without that sort of connection.

ben's entire arc felt so, so out of place. completely and very ironically isolated from the entire rest of the series. nothing about it was fulfilling, nothing about it offered any sense of closure or even development. jennifer made no sense even as a plot device, much less as her own character. these two brought out nothing in each other.

klaus had the foundations of a good arc, but too much was introduced in too small an amount of time and none of it really went anywhere. i can say roughly the same for allison and viktor. THAT being said, of most of the scenes i did find myself genuinely enjoying this season, THOSE three were usually at the center! in fact, i really did love the scenes with klaus, allison, and claire. so that's cool. i guess. luther? he was just kind of... there?

and ray just fucked off with no explanation? okay. and reginald? until this point he had all the qualities of a potentially VERY GOOD and nuanced villain. his arc fell flat. and let's not forget all the other loose ends, but, you know, we've been here long enough. so. onto the next point.

none of these characters got to heal. none of them ever got to revel in anything meaningful, or, rather, the things that WERE meaningful across the whole series were rendered worthless because... none of it exists anymore! none of it ever existed! this is like an "it was all a dream" ending but much worse. and these characters are so, so incredible. i can only name a few other stories that have had characters i've connected to this deeply. and despite everything i could never really stop loving them. that makes it hurt more though tbh

anyways. i know i'm about to sound incredibly dramatic but the ending made me sob my lungs out. this show was really important to me. it led me to incredible people, other incredible stories, helped me live, etc. but i honestly found myself wishing i'd just never watched this series at all. the ending was eviscerating and Just Fucking Pointless. i don't think i'm ever going to be able to rewatch it. it's still hard for me to conceptualize that it was even real, that this is all we get. there's a lot more i could say about everything, but again, i've said a lot already and i'm not trying to write a fucking novel. i'll say more of what i want to in sporadic bursts i guess.

[eunoia-writes]

Back to you • Felix catton

Summary : After Abruptly ending things a few months ago with y/n Felix sees her for the first time at a party.

As the rhythmic pulse of the music filled the room, Felix’s attention abruptly shifted when y/n walked into the party. Time seemed to slow, and the vibrant chatter around him muted into a distant hum. In that moment, everything faded into the background as if the universe had conspired to spotlight her entrance. The air felt thinner, and each step she took echoed like a heartbeat resonating in his chest. Her presence commanded the room, casting a spell that hushed the clamor of the party. For a fleeting moment, the world ceased to exist beyond the boundaries of their shared gaze, and the gravitational pull of nostalgia lingered in the space between them, leaving Felix breathless and captivated by the memory of a connection that time had failed to erase.

She was in that pretty little dress he loved so much. However the arm of the guy she’d walked in with wrapped around the material tainted the image Felix has of it in his head. He wanted to tare the guy limb from limb for being anywhere near his girl. But she’s not his girl anymore.

And that was his fault.

It didn’t take long for Felix to completely abandon the conversation he was in making his way over to y/n who was just as stunned to see him.

“Hey stranger.” Felix said pretending he wasn’t having heart palpitations from the proximity. He watched as the way her eyes welled up for a few seconds at the sight of him before she blinked the tears back making a point of wrapping herself in the boy beside hers arms.

“Hey Felix, this is Danny.”, She said leaning her head onto the boys shoulder “Danny this is Felix.” She said with a tight lipped smile.

“Nice to meet you.” Danny offered his hand to Felix but Felix just looked him up and down and turned his attention back to y/n.

“Could i steal you for a second?” He asked she hesitated for a second before shaking her head.

“No, we’ve just got here need to make the rounds, I’ll see you around though.” She said before grabbing Danny’s hand and dragging him away leaving Felix stood in the same hurt and shock he left her in all those nights ago.

Felix spent the rest of the night sat sulking while the girl he was currently messing around with sat on his lap trying to keep his attention but he couldn’t take his eyes off Y/n and Danny. God what was she going with that guy, she couldn’t love him. Not how she loved Felix he couldn’t believe for a second that she could share the love they had with anyone else.

It wasn’t until she drunkenly stumbled out to the smoking area that she saw his chance to get her alone. Felix pushed the girl off his lap much to her protest before downing what was left of his drink and making his way outside.

He saw her stood in the corner struggling to light her cigarette, the habit that she’d picked up from him staining her still. Y/n fumbled with her lighter, frustration etched on her face as she shook the lighter before returning to try and light her cigarette. Felix let out a sigh before walking over to her flicking his own lighter without saying a word.

She knew it was him without having to look up, she could tell by the signet ring he wore everyday, the one she got him almost four years ago. Y/n reluctantly let him light her cigarette slurring a thank you.

“Can we talk?” He asked as she leant the wall behind them taking a drag of her cigarette.

“About what?” She said In almost a whisper, she knew when she spotted him walking towards her earlier that this would happen. That he’d somehow corner her and beg to talk about what happened. About them.

“You know exactly what.” He said she was refusing to look at him knowing if she did she’d start crying on the spot.

“I don’t want to talk about that.” she said to him staring at the floor. They both let a few moments of silence go by both silently praying the other would talk first.

“You look really pretty tonight.” Felix said and she finally looked up at him scoffing at his words.

“Oh wow you notice for once.” She rolled her eyes as she took another drag of her cigarette.

“Don’t be like that.”

“I’m not being like anything.” She now had tears welling in her eyes for that second time that evening.

“Y/n.” He said softly but she shook her head not wanting to let how gentle he always was with her affect her anymore than it already had.

“Don’t y/n me.” She said as tears rolled down her cheeks, she hated the way he made her feel. She hated that she still loved him.

“Farleigh told me you asked about me.” Felix said as she flicked her cigarette out and threw it away from them

“So what.” She whispered he hated the look in her eyes. The hurt he knew he’d caused.

“You could have asked me yourself.” He said and she shook her head in disbelief. He ended things with her out of the blue and the thought she’d still be his friend.

“You decided that wasn’t an option when you ended things.”

“Y/n.”

“No stop it, I won’t do this.” She shook her head once again her arms wrapping around herself as she moved away from him. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t walk away from him but this was Felix she could never walk away from him. She’d never be the one to walk away.

“Can we please just talk about this?” He was begging at this point. He needed a reason to keep talking to her to keep her near knowing if he let her leave right now he’d never see her again if she could help it.

“Can you just leave me alone, seeing you hurts Felix, it physically hurts.” She said as more and more tears rolled down her eyes the wind making her sway slightly.

“No,” he shook his head his hand coming to her cheek to wipe her tears away, but she batted him away “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You already did, you already left me remember.” She croaked her voice harsh from the alcohol mixed the the tears.

“I never meant for- why Felix why did you do it?” She cut him off her emotions getting the better of her as he looked at her his beautiful brown eyes glossy now as he fought back his own tears.

“I don’t know.” He whispered

“Oh wow you don’t know, real mature.” She was upset, angry and confused all at the same time. Y/n didn’t understand why he couldn’t just be honest with her.

“I’m sorry okay, I never meant for things to end the way they did.”

“I thought we loved each other.” His chest physically ached at the sadness in her voice he hated himself for it.

“We did, god I still love you.”

“Don’t say that.” She was practically sobbing at this point close to hyperventilating all the emotions she felt the day he left coming back up as well as all the others she’s buried since that day never allowing herself to grieve the loss of the relationship.

“But it’s true, I love you and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.” Felix told her watching the way her bottom lip quivered as she sniffled her cheeks stained with her mascara

“Then why did you throw it all away?” He almost didn’t hear her the thumping of the music from inside almost swallowed her voice but he always heard her. In the loudest of rooms he always heard her.

“Because I was scared okay! I was scared that if I let myself fall anymore In love with you that you’d get sick of me and you’d leave and that would have killed me.” He finally admitted and her response only made his heart break harder

“You leaving killed me.”

“I’m sorry, god I’m so sorry.” He chocked on his own tears “Please.” His hands are on either side of her face “please let me fix this, I can’t keep living without you.”

“I don’t want you to hurt me again.”

“I promise ill Never hurt you again, I need you back in my life pretty girl.” He begged wiping her tears away

“I don’t know if I trust you anymore Fi.” She whispered just as the door to the party opened snapping them out of the moment

“Y/n, there you are… oh.” Danny said as he stumbled over to them y/n took a step back from Felix wiping her own face as Felix let out a sigh “what’s going on here?” Danny asked

“This hasn’t anything to do with you.” Felix barked at him the liquor in his veins taking its effect on his tolerance of others

“I wasn’t asking you.” Danny snapped back at him “I was asking MY girl.” He emphasised the My knowing it would get under Felix’s skin

“She’s not your girl.” It took everything in Felix not to swing for Danny. The idea of anyone else calling y/n their girl made him sick.

“She’s not yours either.” Danny began moving closer to the pair

“Cut it out both of you.” Y/n said shaking her head “I can’t do this right now.” She attempted to walk away but Felix caught her wrist and just like always she was putty in his hands

“Y/n!” Danny snapped at her making her flinch slightly which only served to piss Felix off more “Are you really doing this?” He asked her

“I’m sorry.” Y/n whispered looking over at Danny who just shook his head walking away before shouting, “You two deserve each other.”

Y/n didn’t say anything before she wrapped herself around Felix her head resting on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her petting her hair softly. The pair stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before she finally broke the silence.

“Can we go home?”

“Anything you want.”

[strawberrymochin]

Springtime Fushiguros♪

Context-: exploring the memories of childhood of fushiguros, marking the spring time of you and satoru gojo.

Riverside -: gojo saves Megumi from drowning

After countless days and nights of staying away from home for missions, satoru gojo was finally able to relax as this time the higher ups chose nanami kento to carry out the mission instead.

He wanted to stay at home, cuddling with you, embracing your warmth which he missed for days. He wanted his arms around your small waist, pulling you closer, inhaling your intoxicating scent, kissing you till your lips undress each other into the moment, drawing covers to the rest of the world's existence.

However, as for now, he was sitting in a boat, rowing along with you as the free riders enjoyed the scenary.

You had decided to take the kids for fishing on Tsumiki's remark about some of her friends from school, flaunting about their holidays and enjoying several activities including one of them being 'fishing'.

Gojo was reluctant at first, wanting to be home with you, even proposing the idea of shoko babysitting the kids, and postponing their trip to sumida river for some other day, yet he had no choice but to agree after seeing the excitement in Tsumiki's eyes.

Megumi, on the other hand, was yawning as you and gojo rowed the boat. You were babbling some tutorials on how to fish using a fishing rod, which Tsumiki noted attentively, with eyes glistening in delight.

Megumi had no such enthusiasm in his eyes, he wanted to stay at home, do his homework, and maybe practice a bit, channeling his cursed energy. And the most important task: mentally preparing himself to socialize for school next day. you and Tsumiki pretty much dragged him along like gojo.

If the two boys in your life would have been in harmony with each other, they would have been sighing together sharing their grief, after all even if they ganged up they couldn't rebel against your decision (nor they dare to).

'so, now get hold of your fishing rods and then after attaching the bait to the hook of the rod, you slowly put this down in the water like this,' you demonstrate for the kids, as they watch you along with gojo. After all no matter how livid he might get on you, he could never stop himself from admiring you.

'make sure you don't move much and noise is a big-NO. That would scare the fishes away....' you whispered continuing your fishing session.

A smile crept on his lips at the sight of you teaching the kids, as if you have years of experience in teaching.

Ever since he was born in this world, he was associated with jujutsu. His eyes travelled to Megumi and then back to you.

After all the things he went through, he had realised that he want to change the jujutsu system through teaching, maybe in that way he would be able to save someone he couldn't.

He would graduate soon, and seeing how you teach the fushiguros, made him yearn for something he shouldn't.

What if you could also join him in his journey? What if he could teach along with you? If only you could.

The unwanted memories which flashed through gojo's eyes, were ceased by a sudden severe pull, causing you to gasp.

'MEGUMI!!'

Megumi's fishing rod was pulled by a strong fish that made him lose his balance, causing him to fall off the boat. You tried to grasp his hand to prevent him from the fall but it was too late.

Okay the fishing was a bad idea, you accept. Gojo tucks a dumbfounded Megumi into his arms as he backs his way to the boat again. Megumi looks downwards at the river, his clothes drenched, heart beating fast, as eyes travel up to his saviour, he would have drowned otherwise if gojo weren't fast enough. The thought itself made Megumi tighten it's clutches on gojo's jacket.

He was already in the river, flapping his hands, trying best not to drown. Gojo jumps into the river as the scenario strikes him, catching hold of Megumi's shirt's collar, pulling him up as he levitates in the air.

Though gojo was wearing a calm expression on his face, you could notice his uneasy discomposure, his heart must have sinked into his stomach, even your heart was about to stop at that moment. You pulled Megumi into your arms as gojo brings him back safely. Tsumiki joins you too.

'Told ya' it was a bad idea.' gojo says finally, after its quite for too long. He's back to his stupid self again.

'yeah. Sorry.' you accept as you wrap a towel around Megumi. Gojo's rowing you guys back to the shore. Tsumiki offers her brother a cup of hot tea, which Megumi sips quietly, still shook from the incident.

After you guys reach back to the river side, making your way back to the car, to go home, Megumi slowly, very slowly tucks on gojo's sleeve.

'gojo sensei......'

He looks down to the kid. 'hmm?' You and tsumiki peek at them, curious what the kid might got to say.

'thanks.'

gojo stilled for a few seconds, unsure what to do, while the grumpy kid was all red, gojo's eyes brighten up ruffling Megumi's hair, looking at you. You were already smiling at them.

Fishing might have been a bad idea. But it definitely made the journey less hectic, and Megumi a bit close to gojo.

A memory you and gojo would cherish for the rest of your life.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuvia Weekly: Things the M6 don't do anymore

~ my little creative drabble for the prompt "How Things Changed" (pre- vs post- plague) over on @vesuviaweekly! Hope you guys like this little hurt/comfort/fluffy train of thought :3 ~

Julian doesn't shout in his sleep anymore. He still gets nightmares, still tosses and turns and mumbles and wakes up with a start in a cold sweat - but his troubled murmurs don't turn into the terrified cries that they used to. He's still working on eating better and sleeping longer and it's taking time. But from the moment you first lay down next to him for the night, some part of his brain understood that the warm, safe weight of you meant he didn't need to scream to be heard anymore - or helped.

Asra rarely makes tea anymore. They still love to drink it - multiple times a day, if they can - but now you're the one who makes it. He never got over his childhood wariness of tea kettles in general after the mishap that involved his magic appearing. While you were recovering, it was one of many duties they happily shouldered to take care of you. Now that you're equal partners again, it's one of the many small ways he's begun letting you take care of him in turn. Besides, yours tastes better.

Nadia doesn't run away to her tower anymore. She still visits it frequently, to think, or nap, or clear her head, or give her introverted nature a break from the constant social pressures of being Countess. But she doesn't run away to it, to sit in the circular chamber and pretend (or hope) that the rest of the world had simply ... ceased to exist. She doesn't like the thought of losing a world that has you in it. Now, her visits range from serene to tumultuous, but they all carry hope and purpose within them.

Muriel doesn't forget to tend the fire anymore. It used to be an easy thing to go without. After Asra moved out, after his tormentor went up in flames, it was easy to watch the light in his hearth slowly dwindle and die. It was peaceful to sit in the dark quiet of a stone hut and slip into another long, deep, chilly sleep. But now you're here. And you deserve to be warm. You're worthy of a space filled with golden light and soft furs and beautiful tapestries and good food and warmth. And maybe ... he is too.

Portia has stopped hiding in the library. Don't get her wrong, she still sneaks into it all the time. (Seriously, what else was she going to do when she was handed one of the only two sets of keys???) The library was her space, with stories only she had read, where the skills she grew for herself hid among the bookshelves. Her achievements are much, much bigger now. They look back at her in your eyes, in Pepi's little voice, in a flourishing Vesuvia. She doesn't hide in the library anymore. She emerges from it.

Lucio refuses to eat breakfast by himself, ever again. As a soldier, it was a hurried affair around campfires - nothing like the fun of raucous dinners the night before - and as a Count, it was brought to him in his chambers. He'd sit and eat the pile of sugary goods and eye the mess of last night's debauchery and try not to feel cold and small and alone. After three years of hell, he's not alone anymore. Breakfast is campfire food, or inn amenities, and missing most of the sugar he loves - but it's portioned for two.

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Red Carpet Rush

Cillian Murphy x Wife Reader

Summary: Cillian and his wife get dressed and are about to leave but then temptation takes over.

Wordcount: 6.1k

Warnings:

Straight up smut with a plot but the plot is messy especially in the first act of it, but once the afterparty hits, that’s where the good shits at and there’s a lot of oral, especially for the female lolz, switch! Cillian, slightly perverted Cillian if you squint, breeding kink?…, messy towards the end?!,unsafe sex, f! overstimulating, m! & f! oral receiving and giving, handjobs, fingering, p in v, soft/dirty talk, aftercare.

Cillian adjusted his bow tie while looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, exhaling slowly as he contemplated the evening ahead. While the honor of a nomination thrilled him, the prospect of mingling at yet another social event filled him with a familiar sense of dread. Lost in his thoughts, a sudden, captivating sound broke through: the distinct click of heels on the tile floor. An intimate shiver coursed through him, stirring something deep within.

He turned, and there she was. His wife, a vision of elegance and allure, stood before him. The black lace gloves caressed her slender arms, the pearls he had gifted her gleamed softly against her skin, and then his eyes found the pièce de résistance—the dress. It clung to her curves in all the right places, a tantalizing blend of sophistication and seduction. His heart quickened, and a primal desire flared within him.

"Christ, love," he murmured, his voice thick with a blend of admiration and lust. "You look... absolutely breathtaking."

She smiled, a knowing glint in her eye as she sauntered closer, the sway of her hips almost hypnotic. Cillian's pulse raced as he reached out, his fingers grazing the delicate lace of her gloves.

"These gatherings might be a bore," he whispered, his Irish accent adding a lyrical cadence to his words, "but you, my dear, make them worth every bloody second."

She chuckled softly, leaning in to brush her lips against his cheek. "Just try to behave yourself tonight," she teased, her breath warm against his skin.

His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled her closer, his hands resting on her waist. "No promises," he breathed, his lips hovering near her ear. "Especially when you look like that. It's going to be a challenge keeping my hands off you."

She bit her lip, a playful glint in her eye. "Then I suppose we'll have to make the most of our time before we leave, won't we?"

Cillian gave her a perverted grin, he checked his watch the time reading five hours before the whole event. The look of hunger and absolute desire. Cillian’s fingers gently brushed her cheek, his touch feather-light but electrifying. He cupped her face with a tenderness that belied the fire in his gaze. Without a word, he leaned in, capturing her lips in an insanely intense and deep kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of years of shared moments, whispered secrets, and unspoken promises. His lips moved against hers with a practiced ease, as though he were memorizing every contour, every curve.

She responded in kind, her hands finding their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in the soft curls at his hairline. The world outside ceased to exist, the impending awards ceremony forgotten in the haze of their shared passion. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding. Cillian’s hands slid down to her waist, his grip firm but gentle as he lifted her effortlessly. He carried her to the bathroom counter, the cool marble contrasting with the heat of their bodies. He set her down with a careful precision, not breaking the kiss for even a second. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer. Cillian’s hands roamed her sides, tracing the lines of her dress with a reverence that made her shiver.

Breaking the kiss, he leaned back slightly, his breath coming in ragged pants. “God, yer beautiful,” he murmured, his Irish accent thick with emotion. His eyes raked over her, taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. “Every time I look at ye, it feels like the first time.”

She smiled, a soft, knowing smile that spoke volumes. “You always know how to make me feel special, Cill,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of their hearts.

He kissed her again, softer this time, a promise of things to come. “I can’t help it,” he replied, his lips brushing against hers with every word. “Ye drive me mad, in the best way possible.” He trailed kisses along her jawline, down to the sensitive spot behind her ear. She tilted her head, giving him better access, a soft moan escaping her lips.

He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against the silky fabric of her dress, sending a shiver down her spine. His breath was hot against her neck as he leaned in, his lips grazing her ear. "Yer lookin' ravishin', love," he murmured, his Irish accent adding a melodic lilt to his words. She turned her head slightly, catching his gaze with a playful smile, knowing full well the effect she had on him.

Cillian's hand moved to her back, the heat of his touch seeping through the thin material. He took his time, savoring the moment as his fingers found the zipper. With deliberate slowness, he began to pull it down, the sound of the zipper echoing in the room. Her breath hitched, and she bit her lip, feeling the fabric loosen and fall away from her shoulders. As the dress slipped down, revealing the delicate black lace straps of her lingerie, Cillian couldn't suppress a low, throaty moan. "Jesus Christ, darlin'," he breathed, his eyes darkening with desire. "Yer pullin' me leg, wearin' this for tonight..”

Her body reacted instantly, heat pooling low in her belly. She faced him her lips slightly parted in surprise. "Cillian," she breathed, a mix of admonishment and need in her tone. But he was relentless, his hands sliding around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His hands slid down to the bottom of her dress then reaching in.

He hooked his fingers around the front of her panties, pulling them down just enough to gain access. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world. She felt her breath catch in her throat, her body already responding to his touch. The intimacy of the moment, the way he looked at her, made her feel completely bare, exposed in the best possible way. As his thumb traced over her clit, his strokes were uneven, unpredictable. He kept her guessing, the rhythm changing just as she thought she could anticipate the next move. Her hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more pressure, more friction. He chuckled softly, the sound a low rumble in his chest.

“Ye like that, love?” he asked, his voice a mere whisper against her ear. The question was rhetorical; he knew the answer.

She could only nod, biting her lip to stifle a moan. His thumb pressed down a little harder, drawing circles that made her legs tremble. His other hand, resting on her thigh, squeezed gently, grounding her in the moment. She could feel the roughness of his palm, a stark contrast to the gentleness of his touch.

“Ye’re so responsive,” he continued, his voice laced with admiration. “I love seein’ ye like this.”

Her breath hitched as he slipped a finger inside her, the sensation both shocking and electrifying. He moved with a slow, torturous pace, curling his finger just enough to hit the right spot. She gasped, her hands clutching the bathroom counter beneath her. He added another finger, stretching her slightly, the feeling both overwhelming and exquisite. Cillian’s thumb continued its uneven strokes on her clit, building her arousal higher and higher. She felt the heat pooling in her belly, her body tightening in anticipation of release. His fingers moved in and out of her, the rhythm maddeningly slow. Each thrust, each curl of his fingers, was precise, designed to drive her wild.

“God, Cillian,” she breathed, her voice shaky. “Don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darlin’,” he replied, his tone affectionate yet commanding.

He increased the pace slightly, his fingers moving faster now, his thumb pressing down harder on her clit. She could feel the pressure building, her body coiling tighter and tighter. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, and she cried out, her hands flying to his shoulders for support.

“Ye’re close, aren’t ye?” he whispered, his breath hot against her neck. “I can feel ye tremblin’.”

She nodded frantically, her head thrown back, her mouth open in a silent scream. His fingers were relentless, driving her towards the edge with every stroke. She could feel herself teetering on the brink, the world narrowing down to the points where their bodies connected.

“Come for me, love,” he commanded softly, his voice like velvet. “Come on my fingers”

His words were her undoing. She shattered around him, her body convulsing as the orgasm ripped through her. Her cries filled the room, her hands gripping his shoulders with desperate strength. He kept moving his fingers, drawing out her pleasure, prolonging the ecstasy. As the waves of her climax subsided, she collapsed against him, her body spent and trembling. He withdrew his fingers slowly, carefully, and brought them to his lips, tasting her essence. The sight was almost enough to make her come again.

“Ye taste divine,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I could do this all night.”

She smiled weakly, her body still humming with aftershocks. “You have no idea what you do to me,” she whispered.

He lay down beside her, pulling her close. “Oh, I think I do, love,” he replied, his eyes twinkling. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

However Cillian wasn’t done, lord she didn’t know what was coming to her.

As she leaned against the bathroom counter, her eyes focused intently on the mirror. Turning her back to the Cillian, she couldn't have anticipated the magnetic pull that Cillian always seemed to exert on her, a force of nature she was helpless to resist. Cillian stood just a few steps away, his eyes locked onto her reflection. He watched her with a mixture of admiration and raw desire, his gaze tracing the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts, and the delicate lines of her neck. His eyes darkened as they moved lower, noticing the damp spot forming at the crotch of her panties.

"Love," he began, his voice thick with his Irish brogue and roughened by lust, "I can still see yer cunt drippin' through yer panties...still want more you needy slut..”

He moved closer, his hands finding her waist with practiced ease, pulling her against him. His touch was firm yet tender, the grip of a man who knew every inch of her body and reveled in its responses. He loved her hips, their gentle dips, and the promise of life they had carried. She had given him two beautiful children, and the thought of a third stirred something primal within him. Her breath hitched as she felt his hands slide around her body, cupping her hips. The heat of his palms seeped through the thin fabric of her dress, making her shiver in anticipation.

"Cillian," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, laden with need and anticipation.

"Shh, darlin'," he murmured against her ear, his breath hot and tantalizing. "Let me take care of ya."

His hands slipped under the hem of her dress, pushing it up and over her hips, exposing her to the cool air. She gasped, her body arching into his touch. Cillian's fingers found the edge of her panties once more, pulling them down slowly, savoring every inch of skin that was revealed like he didn’t just see it a minute ago.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groaned, his voice a husky whisper. His fingers slid through her folds, gathering her slickness before circling her clit. Her hips bucked against his hand, seeking more of his touch.

Her head fell back against his shoulder, her eyes closing as she surrendered to the sensations he was creating. Cillian's other hand moved to her breast, kneading the soft flesh through her dress, his thumb brushing over her nipple.

"Cillian, please," she begged, her voice trembling with need. "I need you."

"Aye, love," he murmured, his lips brushing against her neck. "I know."

He turned her around, lifting her onto the counter. Her legs spread instinctively, making room for him between her thighs. He knelt, his eyes locking onto hers as he kissed his way up her inner thigh.

"Yer gonna feel so good, darlin'," he promised, his voice a seductive purr.

His tongue flicked out, tasting her, and she cried out, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. He licked and sucked at her clit, his fingers teasing her entrance. Her body trembled, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving her.

"Fuck, Cillian," she gasped, her hips grinding against his face.

He groaned, the vibrations sending shivers through her. His fingers slid into her, filling her, and she moaned loudly. He curled his fingers, hitting that spot inside her that made her see stars.

"That's it, love," he murmured against her clit. "Come for me."

She shattered, her orgasm washing over her in waves. Her body tensed and shook, her cries echoing in the bathroom. Cillian didn't stop, prolonging her pleasure until she was a quivering, breathless mess. Cillian looked up at her from her messy cunt with a glimmer of mischief.

“I think you can come again..”

That’s a chill down her spine, knowing that Cillian always had something up his sleeve, especially when it came to pleasuring her. What in the world was he gonna make her go through. A lot.. there was going to be a mess happening in this bathroom… He began with a kiss, a soft press of his lips against her inner thigh, teasing and testing her patience. His tongue followed, tracing patterns on her skin, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. When he finally reached her center, his tongue darted out, a light flick against her most sensitive spot that made her gasp.

"Cill," she moaned, her voice a breathless plea that only spurred him on. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as his tongue delved deeper, exploring and tasting her with a fervent intensity. He alternated between slow, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks, his rhythm designed to drive her to the edge and keep her there.

Her hips bucked against his mouth, seeking more, but Cillian was relentless in his control. He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he watched her. "Not yet, darlin'," he whispered, his voice rough with need. "I want t' see ye come apart for me." His thumb joined the fray, finding her clit with unerring precision. He rubbed it in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure just enough to push her higher but not enough to tip her over the edge. Her moans grew louder, filling the small bathroom with the sound of her pleasure.

"Cillian, please," she begged, her voice breaking on the words. Her body was a live wire, every nerve ending alight with sensation. He took pity on her then, increasing the pace of his thumb while his tongue continued its relentless assault. The combination was too much, too intense, and she felt herself hurtling towards the edge. Her climax hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her with a force that left her breathless and trembling. Cillian held her through it, his movements never faltering as he guided her through the waves of pleasure. When she finally came down, he pressed a soft kiss to her thigh, his eyes filled with a quiet satisfaction.

It was his turn now…

With a slow, deliberate motion, he undid his belt with one hand, a practiced move that made her heart race. The sight of him undressing, so confident and controlled, always had a primal effect on her, stirring something deep and animalistic within. His fingers deftly unbuttoned his pants, the fabric slipping down his hips as he reached into his suit trousers. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, her breath hitching as she watched him pull out his already hard cock. The sight of him, so ready and eager, sent a wave of heat through her body.

"God, you always look so good when you take my cock," he murmured, his Irish accent wrapping around the words, making them all the more intoxicating. His voice was a low rumble, filled with a mix of lust and affection that made her pulse quicken.

She got off the counter and knelt before him, her eyes locked onto his throbbing cock. It stood proud and ready, glistening with pre-come that dripped tantalizingly from the slit. Her fingers wrapped around his length, the warmth of her touch making him groan softly. She marveled at how beautiful he looked, every inch of him demanding to be worshiped. Her thumb moved in slow, deliberate circles around the sensitive tip, drawing shaky breaths from Cillian. Occasionally, she traced the slit with precise precision, a motion that sent electric shivers down his spine and made his entire body tremble.

"Fuck, love, just like that," he muttered, his Irish brogue rough with desire.

She glanced up at him, her gaze meeting his. The raw need in his eyes spurred her on. She carefully took him into her mouth, just the tip at first, savoring the salty taste of him on her tongue. Cillian's hand reached out, gently grabbing a fistful of her hair. He was careful not to mess it up, but they both knew they had time to fix it if things got a bit wild.

"Christ," he breathed, his voice low and strained. "You're gonna be the death of me, y'know that?"

She responded with a soft hum, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure coursing through him. Slowly, she took him deeper, inch by inch, until he hit the back of her throat. His grip on her hair tightened, but he remained gentle, not wanting to hurt her. Her lips formed a perfect seal around him, and she began to bob her head, setting a steady rhythm that had him on the edge of control. His hips bucked involuntarily, and he had to force himself to stay still, to let her set the pace.

"Fuck, love, you're incredible," he rasped, his accent thickening with each word. "So bloody perfect."

She moved her hand to the base of his cock, stroking in tandem with her mouth, while her other hand cupped his balls, gently massaging them. Cillian's head fell back, his eyes closing as he surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure. Every so often, she'd pull back, just to the tip, and swirl her tongue around the head, teasing him until he was a trembling mess beneath her. Then, she'd take him deep again, her cheeks hollowing with the effort.

"You're too good at this, darlin'," he managed to say between gasps. "Gonna make me lose my mind."

She pulled back for a moment, her hand continuing to pump his length as she looked up at him. "That's the idea, love," she whispered, her voice sultry and filled with mischief. Cillian's breath hitched at her words, and he tightened his grip on her hair, guiding her back to his cock. "Then don't stop," he urged, his voice a low growl.

She obliged, taking him back into her mouth with renewed vigor. Her head bobbed faster now, her tongue working magic on his sensitive flesh. He was close, so close, and she could tell by the way his thighs tensed and his breathing became erratic.His hand slipped from her hair to her shoulder, gripping it tightly as he felt the familiar heat pooling in his groin. "Gonna cum, love," he warned, his voice strained. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

She didn't falter, her mouth and hands working in perfect harmony to push him over the edge. With a final, shuddering gasp, he exploded, his cum spilling into her mouth in hot, thick spurts. She swallowed every drop, her eyes never leaving his face as he rode out his orgasm. When he finally came down from his high, she released him gently, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his now-softening cock before standing up and facing the mirror. Cillian was still panting heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath.

Without a word, they both knew it was time to leave, but an electric current of unspoken desire lingered between them. As he fixed his bow tie in the mirror, he caught her reflection, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and the residue of their passionate encounter.

"Ready, love?" he asked, his Irish accent adding a lyrical lilt to his words.

She nodded, her lips curving into a knowing smile. They stepped out, and the ride to the Oscars was filled with a charged silence. Cillian's mind wandered, replaying the moments they'd just shared. His eyes traced the outline of her legs, imagining the softness of her skin under his fingers. He reached over, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, and she responded with a mischievous glance that promised more to come. The ceremony was a whirlwind of lights, cameras, and applause. Cillian's nomination had already put them in the spotlight, but the electricity between them added an extra spark to their evening. When his name was announced as the winner, he stood up, the room erupting in applause. As he made his way to the stage, he cast a glance back at her, the pride in her eyes filling him with warmth.

As the night progressed, they mingled with other celebrities, but their connection remained unbroken. They exchanged glances across the room, each one a silent promise. Finally, as the evening drew to a close, they slipped away, eager to return to the privacy of their home. Back in the car, Cillian's hand found its way to her thigh, his fingers drawing lazy circles on her skin. She shivered at his touch, her body already anticipating what was to come. They barely made it through the door before their lips met in a fervent kiss, the intensity of their need taking over. He pressed her against the wall, his hands roaming over her body, reacquainting themselves with every curve and contour.

"Couldn't stop thinkin' about ye all night," he murmured against her neck, his breath hot and uneven.

Cillian chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest as he moved them both onto their bed. His cock was already making a massive tent in his pants, a testament to his intense desire for her. She could feel it throbbing against her thigh, a constant reminder of the hunger that simmered between them.

"Baby, you looked so fuckin' good up there," she murmured.

His hands roamed over her body, tracing the curves he knew so well. She shivered under his touch, her own arousal mirroring his. Their eyes locked, and the connection between them felt almost tangible, a living, breathing entity that demanded attention. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of need, of passion, of a love that consumed them both. She responded eagerly, her fingers threading through his hair as she pulled him closer. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mix of desire and the faint hint of whiskey from the after-party.

Cillian's hands moved to the zipper of her dress, slowly lowering it to reveal the smooth expanse of her back. He trailed kisses down her spine, each one igniting a fire that burned hotter and hotter. She arched against him, her body craving more of his touch.

"Ye drive me mad, y'know that?" he whispered against her skin, his breath hot and tantalizing.

She let out a soft moan, the sound sending a jolt of arousal straight to his groin. He moved her so she was beneath him, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. His hands slid under the dress, pushing it up and over her head, leaving her in nothing but her lacy undergarments. Cillian's breath was heavy, almost ragged, as his hands snaked towards her black lace panties. His fingers trembled with anticipation, a testament to his barely contained desire. As he reached the delicate strap that curved around her hip, he paused, savoring the moment, his eyes drinking in every inch of her form.

With a careful, deliberate movement, he hooked his right pointer finger around the strap. The lace was soft against his skin, a stark contrast to the intensity of his need. He tugged gently, the fabric yielding to his touch. He felt the tension in his own body mirrored in hers as he carefully removed the whole thing, the black lace sliding down her legs and finally off her feet.

He took in the sight before him, his heart pounding in his chest. God, she was so fucking beautiful, especially her dripping cunt, glistening in the dim light of their bedroom. His breath hitched, and he let out a low, reverent, “Fuckin’ hell…”

His voice was thick with awe and lust, the Irish lilt making the words sound even more intimate. He knelt between her legs, his eyes never leaving her face. He could see the desire burning in her eyes, matching his own. The connection between them was electric, a living, breathing thing that pulsed with every heartbeat. Slowly, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of her thigh. Her skin was warm, her scent intoxicating. He trailed kisses upwards, each one a promise of the pleasure to come. She shivered under his touch, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“Ye’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, love,” he murmured against her skin, his voice low and husky. “Can’t get enough of ye.”

With a low growl, he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from her dripping cunt. The scent of her arousal filled his senses, driving him wild with desire. He could hear the raggedness of his own breath, could feel the blood rushing through his veins. He was consumed by the need to taste her, to feel her slick heat against his tongue. But he held himself back, his self-control warring with his primal instincts. He knew he needed to take things slow, to savor every moment with her. With a deep breath, he pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting hers with a fierce intensity.

"Lie back for me, love," he whispered, his voice a gentle command laced with affection.

She complied, reclining onto the bed as he positioned himself between her legs. Without another word, he leaned in, pressing a series of soft, reverent kisses along her inner thighs. Each touch was a testament to his love and desire, a promise of the pleasure to come. His hands gently caressed her hips, holding her steady as he lowered his head to her sloppy dripping cunt. He began with slow, tender licks, his tongue exploring her folds with a gentle curiosity. The taste of her, the scent of her arousal, it drove him wild. He couldn't help but let out a low groan, the sound vibrating against her sensitive skin.

"Fuckin' hell," he muttered against her, the words barely audible but filled with raw desire.

His movements were unhurried, deliberate. He wanted to savor every moment, to make her feel cherished and adored. His tongue circled her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to draw soft moans from her lips. He relished in the sounds she made, each one a testament to his effect on her.

"You're so good to me, Cillian," she breathed, her hands threading through his hair, urging him closer.

He responded by increasing the intensity of his ministrations, his tongue moving with a fervor that matched the pounding of his heart. He could feel her hips bucking against him, her body trembling with the pleasure he was giving her. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as he continued his worship. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, and he knew she was close. He focused on her clit, alternating between flicks of his tongue and gentle suction, driving her higher and higher. He wanted nothing more than to see her fall apart, to know that he was the one who brought her to this peak.

When she finally came, it was with a cry of his name, her body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over her. He didn't stop, didn't let up, riding out her orgasm until she was a quivering, sated mess beneath him. He pressed a final, gentle kiss to her sloppy cunt before moving up to lie beside her. He gathered her in his arms, holding her close as she came down from her high. Cillian's eyes darkened with desire as he looked at her. His breath hitched, and his pulse quickened, the raw need evident in his gaze. He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear, and whispered in a voice thick with longing, "I need you, darlin'."

She felt the heat of his words and the shiver of anticipation it sent down her spine. Her heart pounded in her chest as she leaned into him, her body responding to his unspoken desire. She reached around him, her fingers deftly undoing the zipper of his pants. The urgency of her movements matched the thrum of his heartbeat. As she freed him from the confines of his trousers, Cillian let out a low, throaty growl. The sound was primal, filled with a hunger that spoke of how deeply he needed her. He captured her lips in a fierce, passionate kiss, his hands roaming over her body, feeling every curve, every inch of her that drove him wild with desire.

Her hands moved with purpose, stroking him, feeling the heat and hardness that pulsed with his need. He broke the kiss, his breath ragged, and looked into her eyes, his own filled with a mix of love and desperation. "You're driving me crazy," he murmured, his Irish lilt adding a melodic quality to his words.

She smiled, a mix of affection and mischief dancing in her eyes. "I know," she replied, her voice soft and teasing. "And I love it."

Cillian's hands moved to her hips, guiding her against him. The friction of her body against his sent waves of pleasure through him, each touch igniting the fire that burned within. He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear once more. "I'm gonna make you scream my name, darlin'." Just then, Cillian gently and carefully slipping just an inch in her. Watching her movements and noises she made by being caught of guard. Then he bottomed out in her. The noises she made were like music to his ears.

“F-fuck your still so tight..you make me want to ruin that tight little hole of yours so bad”

As he begins to thrust, his movements are measured, synchronized with the rhythm of their bodies intertwining. Though typically reserved, his restraint is tested in this moment of raw vulnerability. Unable to contain the overwhelming sensations coursing through him, a low, guttural moan escapes his lips, betraying the depths of his pleasure. His breath becomes ragged, each exhale a symphony of ecstasy and longing.

“I saw the way you were lookin’ at me while I was up there givin’ that speech..” he paused, “You dirty fuckin’ slut..”

Cillian shuttered slightly, even though he’s rammed his cock in his wife’s cunt many times over but it still has not gotten old and he still cannot keep his composure as much as he wants to however a dominant side tends come out on certain days and in certain occasions, and this was that occasion.

“F-fuck your still so tight..you make me want to ruin that tight little hole of yours so bad”

He started to slowly and precariously thrust into her, making sure every single moment his hips collided with hers that it was perfection. His breath slowly started to crack and shutter. He was such a mess anytime he got his hands on her didn’t matter what situation, it didn’t matter aware. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut, however, he was learning composure tonight it was her turn to be the thoughtless slut.

“Oh…I feel ye’ fuckin’ twitchin’ on it..love..”

His hand snaked up and around her perfect body, to the front of her dripping cunt. His thumb finding its way to her clit and beginning to rub uneven and broken circles around her clit, making her practically live on her toes just from this touch he was providing her.

“C-Cill~” She said while practically whimpering and moaning.

He smiled while barely keeping his composure. He was shivering, shaking, and practically drooling he never got used to this feeling, and he never would. It was always an intimate feeling that they both shared. “Fu-fuck you’re so perfect when you take my cock, love..”

Cillian started to speed up his thumb on her clit, he could and feel her coming close to cumming. He thrust becoming more fast deeper and more sloppy.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ like it don’t you? You’re such a a slut..”

He sped up his thumb movements on her clit, while his hips were thrusting as fast as he could without physically passing out. When she finally came, it was with a scream that echoed through the room, her body shaking with the force of her climax. Cillian followed soon after, his own release hitting him like a freight train. He groaned her name, his body tensing as he spilled into her, the pleasure overwhelming him.

They collapsed together in a mess of sweat, bodily fluids, and love. Such a beautiful site to see truly. As the intensity of their passionate embrace begins to wane, Cillian tenderly guides her to the warmth and comfort of their bed. His movements are slow and deliberate, his touch gentle yet firm as he ensures she feels supported and cared for every step of the way. With a soft smile and a reassuring squeeze of her hand, he settles her onto the soft mattress, a sanctuary of peace and intimacy.

As they lay side by side, the warmth of their bodies radiating against each other, Cillian's hands begin to explore her skin with a tender reverence. His touch is gentle yet purposeful, his fingers tracing the contours of her body with an intimate familiarity that speaks of years spent in each other's embrace.

"Are you okay, love?" Cillian's voice was low and soothing, laced with genuine concern as he searched her eyes for any sign of discomfort or distress.

She nodded softly, her fingers intertwining with his as she squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I'm fine, Cillian," she replied, her voice warm and affectionate. "Just a bit tired, but in the best possible way."

Cillian's heart swelled with love for her, his chest tightening with a mixture of tenderness and desire. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin as he breathed in the scent of her hair. "You were incredible, as always," he murmured, his words filled with admiration and reverence. He shifted closer to her, his arm wrapping protectively around her waist as he pulled her into a gentle embrace. She nestled against him, her head resting against his chest as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. They lay there together in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of their shared intimacy. The steady beat of their hearts a comforting reminder of the bond that binds them together as one.

Author’s Notes:

This was in the backlogs of my drafts it’s like the backrooms over here man. It’s scary like this was supposed to be for the Oscars, also I didn’t think the last smut I wrote for Cillian would be the most liked post I have..but here we are. I like attention, I’m an attention whore. But also a slut for Cillian himself..fuck I love that man.

If the male scene seems off like cause she’s sitting on the counter then perceiving to give him head just ignore that part. I couldn’t write it any other different way. Just let my mind do the way it does it. Let’s just say she’s on the floor now like on her knees. Also, yes, I do use both words ‘Cum’ and ‘come’ both of them are habits when I use more than the other, but sometimes they merge depending on who is saying it because one can have more of an accent than the other and if you notice it then I’ve done my job.

Maybe it’s messy in the end but how cares? I love messy smut and so should you!

Credit for the masterlist banner: Myself! I finally made a crap ton of them on Canva!

Credit for the little sparkle smol divider: Cafekitsune

[fr0stf4ll]

Forge of Starlight - Part 12

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 5k

warning; grief.

notes; Enjoy this chapter ;))

here is the link for part 11 or part 13

---

The first few rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains of your bedroom, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. The warmth of the morning light slowly crept over the bed, gently waking you from a deep, dreamless sleep. You stirred slightly, feeling the comforting weight of Azriel’s body against yours, his head resting on your chest, his arm draped possessively around your waist.

His wings, large and magnificent even in rest, were spread out across the bed, the tips of them brushing the floor. The sight made you smile, a warmth blooming in your chest at the sheer intimacy of the moment. It was as if the world outside had ceased to exist, leaving only this cocoon of peace and comfort.

You shifted slightly, your fingers absentmindedly brushing through Azriel’s dark hair. The gentle motion seemed to stir him from his sleep, and you felt him shift against you, his arm tightening around your waist as he slowly woke up. His head moved slightly, his lips brushing against your skin as he nuzzled closer, a soft, contented sigh escaping him.

The sensation of his warm breath against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help the small giggle that bubbled up from your chest. “That tickles,” you murmured, your voice still thick with sleep.

Hearing your laughter, Azriel lifted his head slightly, his eyes half-open as he looked up at you with a sleepy smile. The sight of him, his hair tousled, his eyes soft with affection, made your heart skip a beat. It was a side of him that few ever saw, a vulnerability that he only seemed to share with you.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough with sleep as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

The kiss was soft, unhurried, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. When he pulled back, his smile widened as he saw the happiness in your eyes. “I like hearing you laugh,” he admitted quietly, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek.

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. “I think I’m starting to like it too,” you replied, your voice soft and filled with warmth.

Azriel’s gaze softened even further, and he leaned in to kiss you again, his lips lingering against yours as if he couldn’t bear to pull away. The kiss was filled with a tenderness that made your chest ache in the best possible way, and you found yourself getting lost in the sensation, in the warmth and safety of his embrace.

For a long while, the two of you simply lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, your bodies pressed close together as if the world outside didn’t exist. His wings draped over you both like a protective shield, and you nestled into his embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you.

There was something magical about the morning light, the way it bathed the room in a soft, golden glow, as if time had truly stopped just for the two of you. In that moment, there was no grief, no pain—only the comfort of Azriel’s presence, the steady beat of his heart, and the warmth of his love surrounding you.

You pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone, your lips brushing against his skin as you whispered, “Thank you, Azriel. For everything.”

He tightened his hold on you, his hand gently caressing your back as he rested his forehead against yours. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. “I’m just glad I could be here for you.”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment, you felt a deep sense of contentment, of rightness. 

And as you lay there, wrapped in Azriel’s embrace, the morning light washing over you both, you felt a sense of peace that you hadn’t known in a long time. It was as if the darkness that had been hanging over you had finally lifted, replaced by the warmth of the sun and the comfort of the man who held you close.

For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay. And with Azriel by your side, you knew that you could face whatever the future held—together.

After spending a few more moments wrapped in each other’s arms, the two of you reluctantly parted, knowing that the day ahead couldn’t be ignored. You slipped out of bed, pulling on a robe while Azriel gathered his clothes, a small, contented smile never leaving his face as he watched you move around the room.

Once dressed, you both made your way to the kitchen, where the scent of fresh coffee filled the air. The warmth of the sun streamed in through the windows, bathing the space in a golden light that made everything feel calm, peaceful. It was a perfect morning, one that felt almost too good to be true after everything that had happened.

Azriel moved with ease in your kitchen, his movements graceful and sure as he prepared coffee for the both of you. You couldn’t help but admire him as he worked, the way his wings folded neatly behind him, the way his muscles moved beneath his shirt as he reached for the mugs.

He caught you watching him and flashed you a small, knowing smile as he approached with two steaming cups of coffee. “Here you go,” he said, handing you one of the mugs. His fingers brushed yours in the exchange, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Thank you,” you murmured, taking a sip of the rich brew, savoring the warmth and the comforting taste.

Azriel leaned against the counter, his gaze soft as he watched you. For a moment, the two of you simply enjoyed the quiet of the morning, the shared warmth of the coffee, and the comforting presence of each other. It was a small moment, but it was one that felt deeply meaningful, a continuation of the peace that had settled over you both since waking up together.

“So,” you began, breaking the comfortable silence, “What do you have planned for today?”

Azriel’s expression grew a little more serious as he considered your question. “I have to head to the Illyrian camps until the end of the week,” he said, his tone apologetic. “There are some matters that need my attention—nothing too serious, but it’s something I have to take care of.”

You nodded, understanding the responsibilities that came with his position. “Will everything be alright there?”

Azriel sighed softly, running a hand through his hair. “It should be. The camps… they always need a bit of managing. I just need to make sure everything is in order, and that the commanders are doing what they’re supposed to. It’s more of a routine check, but it requires my presence.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to you with a hint of concern. “Will you be alright while I’m gone? I hate the thought of leaving you alone after everything…”

You smiled gently, setting your coffee mug down on the counter before stepping closer to him. “Azriel, I’ll be fine,” you reassured him, your voice soft but firm. “I’m getting stronger every day, and I have what we talked about with Rhys last time to keep me busy. Besides, you’ll only be gone for a week, right?”

He nodded, though the concern in his eyes didn’t fully fade. “Yes, just a week.”

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands as you looked into his eyes. “Then I’ll be fine,” you said softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his lips. The kiss was slow, gentle, a promise that everything would be alright, that you could handle this.

Azriel melted into the kiss, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you closer, his wings curling around you both in a protective embrace. When you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, your breath mingling with his as you spoke.

“I’ll miss you, but I’ll be okay. You’ve given me so much strength, Azriel. I’ll be alright.”

He sighed, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll miss you too,” he whispered, his voice full of emotion. “But knowing you’re alright… that makes it easier.”

You smiled, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. “I’ll be here when you get back. And maybe I’ll even have something special waiting for you.”

Azriel’s lips quirked into a small smile, his eyes shining with affection. “I look forward to it,” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek.

The two of you stood there for a moment longer, savoring the warmth and closeness, before you finally stepped back, ready to face the day ahead. The week apart would be difficult, but you knew that with each passing day, you were getting stronger, more resilient. And with Azriel by your side, even from afar, you knew that you could handle whatever challenges came your way.

Azriel left soon after breakfast, the taste of coffee still lingering on your lips when he pulled you into a warm embrace at the door. His departure was filled with quiet reassurances and soft kisses, his concern for you palpable even as he prepared to fulfill his duties at the Illyrian camps. You held onto him for a moment longer than necessary, savoring the warmth of his presence, before finally letting him go.

The door closed softly behind him, and the apartment seemed to echo with the absence of his presence. The silence that followed was heavy, almost oppressive, and you found yourself lingering in the doorway, staring at the space he had just occupied. It was a strange feeling, being alone again after everything that had happened, but you knew that this time apart would be necessary, both for him and for you.

It was too soon to go back to the shop. The thought of entering the forge without Alex’s bright voice and without Stellan’s protective presence was too much to bear. The memories were still too fresh, the wounds too raw. So instead, you decided to focus on something that had been on your mind for a while—something that could help the Night Court in ways you hadn’t yet fully explored.

You went to the trunk at the foot of your bed, the one that held the accumulated paperwork from your years as a blacksmith. Inside were records, contracts, and letters—each one a testament to the work you had done and the relationships you had built across Prythian and beyond. The trunk was heavy, filled with years of history, and as you opened it, a faint smell of parchment and ink greeted you.

You pulled out the first stack of papers, your fingers brushing over the familiar seals and signatures. Some of these documents were contracts for weapons forged, others were letters of correspondence with clients and contacts from various courts and even from the continent beyond Prythian. As you spread the papers out on the table, you realized just how extensive your network had become over the years.

There were letters from the Winter Court, where you had developed a rapport with Kallias, the High Lord. Others from the Day Court, where your craftsmanship had earned you a place of respect among Helion’s advisors. And even more from smaller courts and regions on the continent, places where your name had traveled far and wide, carried on the reputation of your skill.

This was more than just a collection of old documents—this was a wealth of connections that could be invaluable to Rhysand and the Night Court. You had always been a solitary figure, preferring to work in the shadows, but now you saw the potential to use these relationships for something greater. You could be an emissary of sorts, a bridge between the Night Court and the rest of the world.

As you sifted through the papers, you made notes on the most promising contacts, jotting down names and places that you thought might be of interest to Rhysand. It would take time to go through everything, to organize it all in a way that made sense, but you had the week to do it. And it felt good to have a purpose, something to focus on that wasn’t tied to the grief you had been carrying.

The work was meticulous, but it was also comforting in its own way. With each letter you read, each contract you reviewed, you felt a little bit of the old you returning—a reminder of the skilled, capable person you had always been. And with each name you wrote down, you felt a renewed sense of determination to help the Night Court in any way you could.

This was your way of moving forward, of honoring Alex’s memory by continuing the work you had started, by building something that could make a difference. And as the hours passed and the sun climbed higher in the sky, you found yourself lost in the task, the pain of the past few weeks receding, replaced by a quiet, steady focus.

By the time the day drew to a close, you had a sizable stack of notes and contacts—names that you knew would be valuable to Rhysand as he worked to strengthen the Night Court’s alliances. It was only the beginning, but it felt like a good one. And as you looked over your work, a small sense of satisfaction settled in your chest.

You still had a long way to go, both in your recovery and in your work, but for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were on the right path. 

---

The week continued to pass in a blur of paperwork and quiet solitude. You had buried yourself in the task of organizing your old contracts and letters, finding solace in the familiar routine of work. The process was slow, methodical, and it allowed you to keep your mind occupied, to push aside the grief that still lingered at the edges of your thoughts.

One afternoon, as you were sifting through a particularly old stack of documents, you realized that you needed a specific contract that you were sure was stored downstairs in the shop. It had been a while since you’d ventured down there, the memories of Alex and Sellan still too fresh, but you knew it was necessary.

With a deep breath, you made your way down the stairs, the cool air of the shop greeting you as you stepped inside. The space was quiet, still filled with the echoes of the life that had once thrived there. You hesitated for a moment, your eyes lingering on the forge that had gone cold, the tools that lay unused on the workbench.

As you moved toward the storage area, a sudden knock at the shop door startled you. You turned, surprised to see Cassian standing there, his broad frame filling the doorway. His expression was one of warmth and concern, and the sight of him brought a small, genuine smile to your face.

“Cassian,” you greeted, quickly moving to open the door. “What a surprise.”

He grinned, pulling you into a warm, comforting hug the moment the door was open. His embrace was strong, reassuring, and you found yourself relaxing in his arms. “I was in the area and thought I’d drop by to see how you were doing,” he said, releasing you from the hug but keeping a hand on your shoulder as he looked at you with concern. “How are you holding up?”

“It’s been… a process,” you admitted, your smile softening as you stepped aside to let him in. “But I’m getting there. Slowly.”

Cassian nodded, his expression understanding as he followed you inside. “That’s good to hear. I’ve been thinking about you, wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You felt a warmth in your chest at his words, touched by his concern. “Thank you, Cassian. It’s really nice to see you.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he took in the shop around him. “It’s nice to see you too. How about we go upstairs and catch up?”

You nodded, leading the way up to your apartment. The climb up the stairs was filled with a comfortable silence, and when you reached the living room, you noticed Cassian’s eyes immediately went to the paperwork spread out across your desk.

“What’s all this?” he asked, curiosity lacing his tone as he gestured to the stacks of documents.

You glanced at the desk, a small, proud smile tugging at your lips. “After the meeting with Rhys and everyone, I decided to go through all of my old paperwork. I’m trying to find old contacts and anything interesting that could be useful for the Night Court. I figured it would be a good way to keep myself busy and maybe help out at the same time.”

Cassian’s expression softened with approval as he listened. “That’s a great idea, Y/N. I’m sure Rhys will appreciate any information you can dig up.”

“I hope so,” you said, reaching for a jacket as you prepared to leave the apartment. “It’s been a lot of work, but it feels good to be doing something productive.”

Cassian watched as you shrugged into your jacket, his expression thoughtful. “How about we take a break from all this?” he suggested, a teasing smile playing at his lips. “I was going to ask if you’d like to go out for lunch with me. I think you could use a little fresh air and a change of scenery.”

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding, feeling a sense of gratitude for his offer. “I’d like that,” you replied, offering him a smile. “Let’s go.”

The two of you left the apartment, the crisp air of Velaris greeting you as you stepped outside. The city was alive with its usual hustle and bustle, but there was a sense of peace in the air, a comfort in the familiar sights and sounds.

As you walked side by side with Cassian, you felt a small sense of relief—an acknowledgment that, despite everything, life was continuing. The memories of Alex and the pain of his loss were still there, but they didn’t feel as overwhelming as they had before. With Cassian’s presence, and the promise of lunch and laughter, you felt like you were taking another step forward in your healing journey.

And as the two of you made your way to a nearby café, you allowed yourself to relax, to enjoy the moment, knowing that you were surrounded by people who cared for you—people who were helping you find your way back to the light.

The place Cassian had chosen was one of your favorites, a cozy little place nestled in a quiet corner of Velaris. Despite the winter chill, the outdoor terrace was still a popular spot, with tables set under the shelter of heated canopies that kept the cold at bay. Snow lightly dusted the streets, adding a magical touch to the city, and you found yourself smiling as you and Cassian settled into your seats, the warmth from the nearby heaters creating a comfortable cocoon against the brisk air.

Cassian picked up the menu and glanced over it with a playful grin. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” he said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “I might just order one of everything.”

You laughed, the sound coming more easily than it had in weeks. “You’d better not, or I’ll have to roll you back to the House of Wind.”

Cassian chuckled, his grin widening. “You’re probably right. Besides, I don’t want to scare the poor kitchen staff.”

The two of you placed your orders, Cassian opting for a hearty stew with fresh-baked bread, while you chose a warm dish of roasted winter vegetables and a creamy soup to ward off the cold. Once the server had taken your menus and left, Cassian leaned back in his chair, studying you with a playful smile.

“So,” he began, his tone casual but with an underlying curiosity, “how are things going with Az?”

You felt your cheeks warm slightly at the mention of Azriel, but you managed a smile, taking a sip of your hot tea before answering. “They’re… good. Really good, actually. He’s been amazing—supportive, patient. I don’t know what I would have done without him these past few weeks.”

Cassian nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. “That sounds like Az, alright. He’s always been the reliable one, the one who’ll be there for you when you need him most. I’m glad he’s been there for you, Y/N.”

You smiled, feeling a warm flush of gratitude for both Azriel and Cassian. “He really has been. I’m lucky to have him in my life.”

Cassian’s grin turned a bit more teasing as he leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “So… has he finally worked up the nerve to tell you how he feels, or is he still tiptoeing around it?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Let’s say that we’re taking things slow, which is exactly what I need right now.”

Cassian nodded thoughtfully, though the teasing glint never left his eyes. “Slow and steady wins the race, right? But knowing Az, he’s probably all in already—just waiting for the right moment.”

Before you could respond, the server returned with your meals, setting the steaming bowls in front of you. The warmth of the food, combined with the scent of fresh bread and hearty stew, made you feel even more at ease.

“Mmm,” Cassian hummed appreciatively as he dug into his stew. “I swear, Velaris has the best food in all of Prythian. I could eat like this every day.”

You smiled, savoring your own dish. “It’s one of the perks of living here, that’s for sure.”

Cassian took another hearty bite before glancing at you, his expression shifting to something a bit more serious, though still light-hearted. “So, tell me about this project you’ve been working on. Going through all your old contacts, huh? Rhys mentioned you were thinking of putting your connections to use for the Night Court.”

You nodded, setting down your spoon as you considered how best to explain. “Yeah, after our meeting, I started going through all the paperwork I’ve accumulated over the years—contracts, letters, that sort of thing. I’ve had a lot of dealings with other courts, and I thought it might be useful to see if there are any connections we can leverage for the Night Court’s benefit.”

Cassian looked impressed, nodding as he chewed thoughtfully. “That’s a smart move. With your reputation and the relationships you’ve built, you could open a lot of doors for us. So, what do you think? Which court would be the most profitable to work with?”

You took a moment to consider your answer, reflecting on the many contacts you’d reviewed over the past week. “I think the Day Court has the most potential,” you said slowly. “Helion’s court is rich in resources, and they’re very open to trade and alliances. Plus, I’ve done a lot of work for them in the past, so there’s already a foundation of trust there.”

Cassian nodded, his expression thoughtful as he considered your words. “That makes sense. Helion’s always been pretty straightforward in his dealings. And the Day Court’s resources could definitely bolster what we have here in the Night Court.”

He paused, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. “What about the other courts? Any of them seem like they could be beneficial, or are we talking about potential headaches?”

You smiled, appreciating his straightforwardness. “The Winter Court is another possibility. Kallias is cautious, but we’ve had a good working relationship. The Spring Court, though…” You trailed off, making a face. “Let’s just say I wouldn’t count on anything from them anytime soon.”

Cassian chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, Tamlin’s been more of a pain than anything else lately. Probably best to avoid that mess for now.”

The conversation continued in the same vein, light-hearted and easy, with Cassian peppering you with questions and making jokes that had you laughing more than you had in weeks. He was a natural at lifting your spirits, and by the time the meal was over, you felt a genuine sense of contentment.

As you both finished your meals and settled the bill, Cassian leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. “This was good, Y/N. I’m glad we got to do this.”

You smiled warmly at him, feeling a deep sense of gratitude. “Me too, Cassian. Thank you for taking me out—I really needed this.”

He waved a hand dismissively, though the warmth in his eyes told you he was genuinely pleased. “Anytime, Y/N. And if you ever need to get out again, just let me know. I’m always up for a good meal and some quality time with a friend.”

You nodded, feeling lighter than you had in days. “I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

As you both stood and made your way back out into the snow-dusted streets of Velaris, you felt a sense of peace settle over you—a sense that, despite everything, you were going to be okay. And with friends like Cassian and Azriel by your side, you knew that you wouldn’t have to face the challenges ahead alone.

Cassian glanced at you with a smirk playing on his lips.

“So, Y/N,” he began with a mischievous glint in his eye, “next time Azriel asks you out on a proper date, make sure to let me know.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Why?”

“Because I want to be there to see if he finally cracks a smile. We’ve had a running bet for years—Mor says it’ll happen eventually, but I’m still not convinced his face can do it.”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head. “I’ll keep that in mind. And if he does, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know.”

Cassian grinned, satisfied. “Perfect. I could use a new coat with the winnings.”

As the two of you continued down the snow-dusted streets of Velaris, the conversation shifted back to your work, the weight of what you were doing for the Night Court settling comfortably between you.

“By the way Cassian,” you began, glancing over at him, “do you think it would be possible for me to meet with Rhys by the end of the week? Azriel won’t be back yet, and I’d really like to discuss everything I’ve been working on.”

Cassian nodded thoughtfully, his breath visible in the cold air. “I don’t see why not. I’m sure Rhys would appreciate the update—and honestly, he could use the break from whatever crazy scheme Amren’s got him wrapped up in this time.”

You chuckled, but then gave him a sidelong glance. ���You sure you’re not just saying that because you want to watch me try to navigate the House of Wind’s stairs on my own?”

Cassian grinned, the familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “Well, now that you mention it, it would be pretty entertaining. But no, I’ll make sure you get there without needing a rescue mission. Plus, it’ll be good for Rhys to hear directly from you about all the work you’re putting in.”

You smiled, relieved. “Thanks, Cassian. I appreciate it.”

He gave you a light nudge with his elbow. “No problem. Besides, it’ll be a nice change of pace from watching Az brood about you being gone all week.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “If he’s brooding, it’s probably because he’s just missing a chance to get back at you for all the bets you make about him.”

Cassian chuckled. “Touché. But hey, it’s all in good fun. I’ll make sure to keep things interesting until he’s back—just to give him something to look forward to.”

The two of you shared a grin as you continued walking, the easy camaraderie between you making the cold winter day feel a little warmer.

——

Two days had passed since your lunch with Cassian, and the hours had flown by in a blur of paperwork and sorting. As the sun began to set, casting a soft amber glow through the windows, you found yourself finally nearing the end of your task. The table that had been buried under stacks of old contracts and letters was now almost clear, save for a few last items you were carefully organizing into neat piles.

A sense of accomplishment settled over you as you wiped down the table, the scent of fresh parchment and a faint trace of ink lingering in the air. You were just about to sit down and relax when a sudden knock on the door startled you.

Curious, you made your way to the door and opened it, only to be greeted by the bright, beaming smile of Mor, who stood there holding a pack of wine bottles.

“Surprise!” she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Since Az isn’t here to keep you company, I figured it was about time we had ourselves a proper girls’ night. And what better way to do that than with a few bottles of wine?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the warmth in your chest spreading at the sight of her. “Mor, you’re a lifesaver. I was just thinking I could use a break.”

Mor grinned and stepped inside, making herself at home as she placed the wine bottles on the table. “Exactly! And besides, I’m tired of being one of the only girls in this merry band of males. It’s about time we have some fun, just us. I’m so glad you’re here now.”

Your heart swelled at her words, feeling an even deeper connection to the Inner Circle. You grabbed some wine glasses from the kitchen, along with a selection of snacks—cheese, bread, and fruit—and set them out on the table, clearing away the last of the paperwork to make room.

As you poured the first glass of wine, Mor settled onto the couch, kicking off her shoes and curling her legs beneath her. “So, Y/N, tell me,” she began with a gleam in her eye, “how are you settling into this mad little family of ours? You’re practically one of us now.”

You handed her a glass and took a seat beside her, smiling as you took a sip of the rich, red wine. “It’s been… a lot,” you admitted with a chuckle. “But I’m getting there. It’s nice to feel like I belong somewhere again.”

Mor’s smile softened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “You do belong here, Y/N. We’re all so glad to have you. And honestly, I’ve been waiting for someone like you to come along for ages. Do you know how exhausting it is to be the only one dealing with these boys?”

You laughed, nodding. “I can imagine! They do seem like a handful.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Mor groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically. “The things I’ve had to witness… And don’t even get me started on the pranks. You’d think they were teenagers instead of centuries-old warriors.”

You both dissolved into laughter, the sound filling the cozy space of your apartment. As the evening wore on, the wine flowed freely, and the conversation drifted from one topic to another—everything from your first impressions of Velaris to the wild escapades Mor had gotten into over the years.

“Speaking of wild escapades,” Mor said with a mischievous grin, leaning closer as if to share a secret, “have I ever told you about the time I ended up in the Summer Court with nothing but a pair of sandals and a very questionable disguise?”

You nearly choked on your wine as you tried to suppress your laughter. “What? No, you haven’t! You have to tell me everything.”

Mor launched into the story, painting a vivid picture of a particularly wild night that involved sneaking into a Summer Court festival, an accidental dip in the ocean, and narrowly avoiding a very awkward encounter with one of the Summer Court’s high-ranking nobles. By the time she finished, you were both in stitches, tears of laughter streaming down your cheeks.

“Honestly,” Mor sighed, wiping at her eyes, “I don’t know how I get myself into these situations. But I guess that’s part of the fun, right? Life would be pretty boring if we didn’t have a few stories to tell.”

You nodded in agreement, still grinning from ear to ear. “You’ve got a point. Though I’m not sure I could ever top that one.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Mor teased, raising her glass in a toast. “You’ve got plenty of time to make some wild memories of your own. And trust me, with this group, it’s bound to happen.”

You clinked your glass against hers, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the wine. The night continued in the same vein, filled with laughter, gossip, and stories about past adventures. Mor shared tales of her travels across Prythian, the people she’d met, and the chaos she’d left in her wake.

At one point, the conversation turned to the boys—Cassian’s ridiculous antics, Rhysand’s endless charm, and Azriel’s mysterious ways. But you steered clear of any serious talk about Azriel, focusing instead on the lighter, more humorous side of things.

“Oh, and did I ever tell you about the time Cassian tried to convince Rhys that he could outdrink a dragon?” Mor said, giggling as she refilled your glass.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “No, but now I have to know.”

Mor launched into the tale with enthusiasm, and soon you were both doubled over with laughter at the thought of Cassian’s wild antics and Rhys’s exasperated reaction. The stories kept coming, each one funnier than the last, and with each passing hour, you felt more and more at ease, the weight of the past few weeks slowly lifting from your shoulders.

As the night progressed and the wine continued to flow, the conversation between you and Mor grew even more animated. The two of you were leaning into each other, giggling like schoolgirls as the topic turned to gossip—one of Mor’s favorite pastimes.

“So, tell me, Y/N,” Mor began, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she took another sip of her wine, “have you heard the latest about Helion?”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “No, I haven’t. What’s he up to now?”

Mor leaned in closer, lowering her voice as if sharing a juicy secret. “Apparently, he’s been spending a lot of time in the Dawn Court lately. And not just for political reasons, if you know what I mean.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Helion? In the Dawn Court? What’s he up to?”

Mor leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. “Word is, he’s been getting cozy with one of the High Lord's court ladies. You know, the ones that somehow manage to survive his moods. Apparently, Helion’s been charming the pants off her—literally.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the image of the ever-charming Helion working his magic in the usually dour Dawn Court. “Well, I guess that explains why he’s been so eager to make trips to the Dawn Court lately. Can’t say I blame him for wanting a change of scenery.”

As the gossip continued, the topics ranged from who was secretly pining after whom, to the latest fashion disasters at the courts, and even a few hilarious mishaps involving magic gone wrong.

At one point, Mor leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she shared a particularly scandalous tidbit. “And did you hear about that time Rhys accidentally turned Cassian’s hair bright pink during a training session? Cass was furious, and Rhys spent the next week avoiding him at all costs.”

You gasped, laughing so hard you could barely breathe. “Bright pink? Oh, I wish I could’ve seen that!”

Mor giggled, nodding. “It was priceless. Cassian tried to pretend it didn’t bother him, but you could tell he was plotting his revenge. Rhys had to sleep with one eye open for weeks.”

As the night wore on, the wine bottles gradually emptied, and you both found yourselves sprawled out on the couch, your legs tangled together as you continued to talk and laugh. The room was filled with a sense of warmth and camaraderie, the kind that only comes from spending time with someone who truly understands you.

By the time the clock struck midnight, you were both pleasantly tipsy, your conversation slowing as the wine and the late hour began to take their toll.

“I’m really glad we did this,” you said softly, your head resting against the back of the couch as you looked over at Mor. “I needed it more than I realized.”

Mor smiled, her eyes soft with affection. “So did I. We’ll have to make this a regular thing. The boys can have their battles and their plans, but we’ll have our wine and our gossip.”

“Deal,” you agreed with a grin, feeling a deep sense of contentment as you clinked your glass against hers one last time.

As the night finally wound down, Mor helped you clear the table and gather the empty bottles, both of you still giggling over the stories that had been shared. When she finally left, you walked her to the door, the warmth of your newfound friendship lingering long after she was gone.

And as you returned to the quiet of your apartment, a smile still tugging at your lips, you couldn’t help but feel grateful—for Mor, for the Inner Circle, and for the sense of belonging that had slowly but surely found its way back into your life.

---

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[gogogodzilla]

✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟚 : 𝑁𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑠 ✧

【 𝐵𝑖𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝐵𝑜𝑦 】

╰› 𝑚𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑚𝑖𝑑𝑡 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

╰› 〖 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠 〗: You make Mike's 21st birthday a night to remember

╰› 〖 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 〗: nsfw 18+, alcohol consumption, dubcon, handjob, semi-public sex, reader is a bad influence, college student!reader 

╰›  ✧ 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑚.𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ✧ 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑜3 ✧ 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑝𝑎𝑑 ✧

The first time you meet Mike Schmidt, he adamantly refuses your help as he struggles to wrangle the moving boxes and a cranky toddler, who you later learn is his little sister, Abby. You eventually convince him to let you move some boxes while he settles Abby down for her nap. You don’t know it then, but that less-than-ideal introduction would lead to you hopping his fence years later. 

Your feet hit the plush grass in his backyard. “You could’ve used the gate like a normal person,” he calls.

You wave a hand dismissively, “Where’s the fun in that?” 

Your backpack clinks as you walk over to him. He’s taken up residence on one of the shabby lawn chairs that litter his back porch. It creaks under his weight as he shifts and raises a brow at you. You can’t help your mischievous grin as you set your backpack onto his lap. He lets out a small huff as the weight hits him, and you pull up a chair next to him, wincing slightly as the metal legs scrape against the concrete. 

“What do you have in here?” he questions incredulously. 

You grin, leaning closer to him. “Open it and find out.” 

His eyes narrow suspiciously for a moment before curiosity overcomes him and he slowly unzips your backpack. A series of emotions cross his face in a matter of seconds: confusion mixed with surprise mixed with amusement. 

He holds up a bottle filled with clear liquid, which shines slightly in the dim porch light. 

“Liquor?” 

You tsk, “I also have some beers in there. I’m not an animal, Michael.” 

He rolls his eyes. “You brought various alcoholic drinks because…” 

“Because,” you say, grinning, “you deserve to be a dumb kid for once in your life. Besides, you only turn 21 once.” 

“You remembered?” 

You shove him lightly, “Of course, I remembered.” You take your bag back from him and begin rifling through it. “What’s your poison, birthday boy?” 

He takes a moment to think it over. “Liquor before beer right?” he asks, holding up the bottle of clear liquid from earlier. 

You grin, “And you’re in the clear.” 

You set your bag at your feet and watch as he slowly undoes the cap. It clinks softly against the bottle, the sound filling the space between you. He brings the bottle to his lips and cringes as the potent liquid dances across his tongue. He sputters, coughing as he hands the bottle to you. 

You eagerly take a swig, wincing as the liquor burns its way down your throat. 

Mike sends a look in your direction, “I take it this isn’t your first drink.” 

You laugh, “Is it obvious?” 

A comfortable silence lingers between the two of you as you pass the bottle of liquor back and forth. Warmth spreads throughout your chest as the night wears on, and you can’t help but admire Mike in the dim moonlight. 

“It’s good to see you, y’know,” he murmurs, turning to face you. You tilt your head, and he continues. “You’re always away at school, and I dunno… I guess I miss seeing you sometimes.” 

His free hand rests on his thigh while the other nurses the almost empty bottle of liquor. Slowly, you reach out and brush your fingers against the back of his hand before tracing against the backs of his fingers. His skin is warm and flushed from the alcohol coursing through his system. He stiffens for a moment before relaxing, turning his hand over to entangle his fingers with yours.

“I miss you too,”  you whisper, looking over him and squeezing his hand. 

For a moment, the world falls silent around you. The dull hum of the AC unit and the symphony of crickets ceased to exist, and it’s just you, him, and the steady beating of your heart. 

Mike’s eyes linger on yours, watching your every move as you lean towards him. He meets you halfway and your lips collide in a tentative, clumsy kiss. It’s not long before the kiss deepens, your lips moving in sync. The empty bottle of liquor is tossed to the side with a thud against the lush grass of the backyard, and Mike cups your face. His thumb gently traces your jawline, and you almost lose yourself in the feeling of him. 

When you finally pull away, you’re breathless, and your mind reels. Your breath mingles with his in the cool night air, and he rests his forehead against yours. 

A moment passes before your lips meet his again. The kiss is even clumsier than the last, and your teeth knock together. You pull away for a millisecond before meeting his lips again, more precisely this time. You maneuver out of your chair and sink to your knees in front of Mike as your lips remain on his. 

“What’re you doing?” he questions between kisses. 

You grin against him, “Giving you the rest of your present.” 

Your hands dance against his thighs, and you’re acutely aware of the possibility of the two of you getting caught. Your fingers venture under the hem of his shirt and dance across his ribs. His muscles jump under your touch, and his breath quickens as you drag a finger down his stomach, stopping just above the button of his jeans. 

You look up at him through your lashes, “Want me to stop?” 

He quickly shakes his head, “Please don’t.” 

You slowly drag your fingertips over the growing tent in his pants, relishing the soft whines that leave him. You undo the button of his jeans, and you tug his zipper down, your fingers shaking with giddiness and nervousness at the same time. 

He lets out a groan as you slip your hand past the waistband of his briefs, and you attempt to commit the sound to memory. His grip tightens on the arms of his lawn chair as you languidly stroke him. 

You pull his length out of his briefs, revealing what you’ve been aching for. You pumped your hand a few times before sliding a thumb over the weeping tip of his cock. You used the precum to lubricate your strokes, and his back arches against his chair. 

The slick sounds of skin against skin fill the quiet night, and your cheeks flush as you look up at Mike. His eyes are screwed shut and he leans his head back as each breath is punctuated with a needy moan. He looks heavenly in the dim porch light, and you hope to commit the image to memory. 

You lean forward and press sloppy kisses against the base of his cock while your hands work on bringing him closer to the edge. 

Mike’s moan is practically pornographic as he paints the back of your hand with the white ropes of his release. It drips down your fist and across your knuckles, and you lean forward to lap up what you can. 

“Holy shit,” Mike shudders as he watches you. You lean forward to capture his lips in a kiss. 

“Happy birthday, Mike,” you whisper. 

[redheadspark]

Could I get number 7 with Eddie Munson please, if it hasn't been requested yet of course. Thank you 😊

A/N - This is greater Eddie! Thanks for requesting this!

Little Badass

Summary - In the aftermath of the Upside Down, you and your soulmate pick up the pieces.

Warnings - A small mix of fluff and angst!

“You need to breathe through it,”

“I am breathing through it,”

“Like hell you are.  Come on take a deep breath,”

You glared at Steve, who was giving you his signature glare with his hands on his hips as the nurse was perched in front of you, putting more ointment on her gaze before she touched your rib, right along the wound that was fleshed stitched moments before.  You squinted, the pain was intense as you were trying to keep still and not squirm.  Thankfully the nurse was beyond patient with you, going along the edges of the wound that was still tender and getting most of the gunk and specks of dust off your skin.  Steven reached over to take your hand, feeling you squeeze his hand so tight he felt like bones were going to break.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” 

A voice yelled out from the other side of the room, which was closed off with a curtain.  You, Steve and the nurse looked in the direction, seeing the silhouette of a massive head of hair in a bed.  Steve snorted as you gave the nurse a reluctant look.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, the nurse just smiling and shrugging as she took the dirty gauze away now to dress your wound.

“That’s nothing, honey.  I’ve had soulmates in worse conditions with louder reactions,” She hummed in reply, “You two are lucky in the wounds you have: tolerable pain is better than most,”

Steve eyed him as you gulped.  Yeah, “Lucky” may not be the best word to use in your situation. Sure the world almost ended and the Upside Down was a literal nightmare, almost looking at your life when you were trying to save your soulmate and the love of your life from making a stupid decision to help others.  You knew how heart was good and he meant well, but Eddie Munson could be an idiot sometimes.

But he was your idiot.  You loved that idiot.

You two have been soulmates from the moment you two met in high school, you transferring to Hawkins when you moved with your parents.  It was the stereotypical moment any soulmate story had: seeing each other across the room and the rest of life ceasing to exist.  That’s what it was for you and Eddie: seeing each other in Biology class.  

Thankfully, you both matched each other’s spirit and sarcasm.  Being soulmates with Eddie Munson, the apparent Metal Head Freak who was obsessed with Dungeons and Dragons, and being extraordinary was no easy picnic for you when it came to your status in high school.  Yet you never cared, you were happy with him and knew deep down that he was meant to be with you, and vice versa.  In fact, Eddie was beyond amazing with you: treated you so well as your boyfriend and never once made you feel less of yourself.  You both had plans to get out of Hawkins as soon as he granted from high school, yet life took a turn.

Actually, the end of the world took a turn.

Being soulmates you both could feel the pain that the other feels.  From minor pains like scrapes and paper cuts to bigger ones like Eddie’s broken nose during a metal convert his sophomore year and you breaking an arm your junior year.  It was your link to one another, feeling the other’s pain and going through the sensation.  Perhaps it was a way to make you two stronger together as a couple and as soulmates.  

You remembered Eddie holding you close as you were nursing your newly casted arm against your chest, you resting your head on his shoulder as he stroked your hair as you were trying to wipe away your tears.  You hated that he felt the bone break as if it was his own bone breaking, yet when he showed up at the hospital, he didn’t show the pain on his face.  Eddie was far too kind to feel any pain like that, even with the persona that he gave off around others, you knew he had a heart of gold.  

“It’s nothing, babe,” he hummed in your hair as you were looking at your new cast with a grimace, “All that matters is that you’re good and you’re healing, okay?  Plus, casts are badass!  I can sign it first and make it look radical!”

After the nurse dressed your wound on your side, he left you and Eddie alone for a bit to finish out your paperwork.  Steve wanted to make a call to Robin and the others to check on them, you reassured him that you were fine.  Having Steve as your cousin was both a blessing and a curse since he was more like the brother you never had.  A worrying brother, but you loved him all the same.  

Once Steve left the room, you made your way around the semi-closed curtain to see Eddie perched on his bed, grimacing a bit from own pain that he was feeling and the aches along his bones.  You remember feeling all of his pain hours before too: the demon bats fighting away at his skin while he tries to fend them off to buy you and Dustin time to escape the Upside Down.  The pain was downright insane, you doubling over in Eddie’s trailer where the portal was.  You felt every tear of his skin, the teeth ripping along his ribs, and you were screaming out from the insane sensation.

Thankfully, you both made it out alive and in one piece.  Barely.

Eddie was still looking out of place, scattered in bruises and cuts along his face and arms, his hair somewhat matted and pushed behind his shoulders as he was watching you.  Your own injuries made him worry a bit as you smiled weakly at him.  He gestured to your side, right where the wound was freshly wrapped.

“Felt like a bitch,” he mumbled, you snorting as you shrugged.

“I’ve felt worse,” You reminded him gently, seeing him sigh and rub his face with his spare hand, "I would call you an idiot for that stunt you pulled back there, but I think you’ve learned your lesson already from both myself and Steve,”

He smiled, the deep cut on his lower lip almost busted open again as he looked at you fondly.  Reached out with one hand, he cocked his head, "Come here, babe,”

You pulled over a chair and sat next to him at his bedside.  With his hands laced with yours, he leaned over to kiss your forehead, nearly dodging the wound on your head and he smiled against your skin, "You’re one tough little badass,”

“And you’re one idiotic boy, but you’re my idiotic boyfriend,” You teased, Eddie chuckling as you hummed, “As soon as you’re all healed up, Hawkins is going to be a thing of the past for us,”

“Sounds like a good fucking deal,” he answered, leaving the pair of you in a comfortable silence in that small hospital room.  Although this was a close call for you both, you were inwardly glad that your future was right in front of the pair of you. Nothing else would come this close when it came to pain, making you two come closer than ever. 

The scars will be thin and the only evidence of what you two went through. You even see the thin scars glisten on your skin on your wedding day a few months later, but it brought you both grins than tears.

The End

September Prompt Session

[brellynotes]

reasons why tua s4 is a fever dream pt. 1

ok so we already know that one of the biggest fuck-ups in s4 is five's character, but here's some other stuff that make literally no sense in s4-

[1] they didn't even explain jennifer's backstory??? ok, so she has this particle called durango- how tf did it get in her? why was she in a whole ass squid??

[2] victor's powers used to be blue and his eyes used to glow the last time i checked?? if the change in how his powers looks is because everyone's kind of getting an update in their power, why does he have zero reaction whatsoever?

[3] the way the rest of the family completely ignored the cheating thing?? all they said was "wow did not see that coming" like no one addressed the fact that it was wrong? and that scene of grace (if i remember correctly) saying "screw is spelt s-c-r-e-w" i mean wtf how are they putting humour into this scene? cheating is serious shit and they put in these "funny" one-liners which are meant to distract us from how lila and five fucked up

[4] lila's family too- there was just one (1) shot where the camera shows her family members looking surprised and then no one ever brings it up again? as an indian i can confirm that even if you said the world was ending, indian relatives will definitely want to talk about something as serious as cheating

[5] ben being all like "i've been thinking about you since i met you" and "we're connected" like bro how do you know that? what y/n crap is this?? i physically felt myself cringe at those scenes god

[6] literally who are jean and gene really and how tf did they know about the cleanse

[7] lila, who was in love with and married and had three kids with diego got bored of living a regular life with him but spending years with five and nearly dying everyday was apparently fine like did you see that shit-eating grin she had on her face all the time

[8] she doesn't even apologise for cheating?? all she does is explain why she did- and cheating isn't something that has an explanation.

[9] diego and five die without ever reconciling. well, to be fair, how could they? five acted like he was right to encourage lila cheating? this point is more sad than 'not making sense', but i just can't bring myself to believe that when family is such a huge theme in this show, they end up ceasing to exist while holding a grudge against each other

[10] why exactly did reginald keep his wife's corpse on the moon?? why was luther protecting it? what is this gabriel agreste ahh crap

[11] "you hate bracelets" "no i don't" aside from this scene being really dumb, i don't think lila hates bracelets? like, remember the bracelet she made in the asylum and wore through literally all of s2? the one diego took and kept for her?

[seneon]

MELANCHOLY ──── vampire! touya × fem! reader.

about. you drown in a melancholic pool, waiting for his awaken. vampire! au, set in 1930s, a few decades after bewitched ( part one ) very quick angst to romantic fluff. there's some gore tw all around. wc of 1K.

notes. proofread by @angeliicheartt i heart you

in the thirtieth year of the ninety century, there were countless reports of the lives and blood of the citizens rapidly decreasing. in other words, they were all found dead—body malnourished, skin rotting, gaze locked up to the sky that had seen everything played out before their last breath.

there was one thing they all had in common. two small bites on their neck. or anywhere around their body in general, starting from the head and down to the very tippy toes.

just like that, their soul has been sucked out. it was the work of vampires, vicious bloodsucking creatures who walked the same ground as a human would. except, they only walk during the night.

sunlight burned their skin. the day and brightness made them cry out in pain. their eyes will start to disintegrate at the sight of the brightest of colours.

what would humanity ever do when they found out there was one single vampire that roamed around the streets like any average woman? dressed and disguised as a bookseller in the day, teeth growing out to be a vampire during the dead of night.

to the citizens, you are the young, vintage bookseller who sold the greatest books in all of town. a woman who never ever seems to age, as some rumours have risen over time from the gossiping mouth of the older widows who knew you for decades yet still seemingly younger than them.

even with all these blood consumed in the dead of night, none of them could fulfill the solitude you've been having to embrace lately. the emptiness consumes you whole, just like all the blood of the innocent you have sucked out for your source of living.

when dusk arrived, you slowly walked your way back home where the walls are higher than any ceilings and the windows are dimmer than any reflections.

as always, the first thing you will always do is open the coffin of your slumbering husband and kiss his forehead, or anywhere at all, as a greeting to tell him that you have arrived home.

you sat beside his coffin, eyes gazing at touya's lips which were laid out in one straight line along with his eyes which were sealed shut.

oh, how you've missed those turquoise eyes that brought so much joy to your loneliness. those eyes which only looked your way like you are the only that exists in this world. the eyes that told the moon millions of stories about you.

your fingers moved to gently rest on the cold skin of touya, not before your knuckles caressed and brushed his cheeks ever so lightly. a partial piece of his bone that has been turned into a ring coiled around your ring finger, the cold piece glimmering under the moonlit night.

you might not let it roll out the tip of your tongue, but your soul screams for touya to awaken.

it has been so long since he fell into a deep slumber. of course you knew of this deep slumber, it's something that touya does every few centuries for decades in order to replenish his power.

in this case, he slumbers because he has given you quite the amount of his blood and the unexplained ability to still walk around the day even if your canine teeth have grown longer and sharper.

and it was a personal punishment for him for turning an innocent human girl into something that he is. touya wanted to carve a hole in his chest to offer her his heart just so she could live for an eternity with him in this hell. how selfish.

in the background solemnly and softly played the record of antonio vivaldi's four seasons’ summer. it's a piece you've been indulging in lately, besides the other three seasons.

“ya know? the moon begs me to know when you will open your eyes again. she tells me that she wants to hear more of your stories,” you spoke softly, your fingers never ceasing their movements to gently caress. “i don't think she's very fond of me…”

“i miss you, touya,” you leaned closer to his face where your hair fell over his face and your nose almost touched his own. “please just... wake up. i’m so lonely.”

your forehead pressed against touya's, nose now touching his as your lips caved in to press them against touya's soft and cold ones.

those same lips that used to mold against yours so perfectly. those lips that used to lick and drink your blood like there was no other. those same old cold lips and dying lips that has you addicted with one press against your skin. you never forget the part where it speaks of honey-sweet words that always twists and turns your inside.

in melancholia, it was quickly driven away when you felt fingers weaving themselves into the back of your head, pushing your head further into the kiss as you felt touya's lips moving against yours.

you let out a little gasp as he deepened the kiss before moments later then you pulled away to stare at him with widened eyes.

there it is.

his turquoise eyes that somehow knew how to bring you joy no matter the occasion. the corner of touya's lips slowly cracked into a smile before he slowly sat up from his coffin, tilting his head to the side.

“morning.”

you wasted no second to throw yourself onto him, embracing his awakened body as you once again pressed your lips onto his. your lips have been waiting for this moment, craving for a longing kiss.

touya chuckled before one of his arms slithered around your waist to pull you closer, his free hands moving to cup your cheek. his kisses burned with passion, as if they've been longing for you just as much as you've longed for him.

a few moments later both of you pulled away and he rested his forehead on yours, his pretty turquoise eyes that you missed so damn much staring right into yours.

“i heard you calling out to me, darling. there's so much melancholy in your voice that it broke me on the inside. hurts so much that i couldn't wait for my power to fully restore before i woke up to be graced by your truly wonderful lips.”

like a child, you wailed at the awakening of your slumbering vampire husband for the next few hours into the night and in his arms while he holds you close and tight, telling you promises that he'd never do anything of that sort again.

your little bone that wrapped around touya's ring finger occasionally grazed your cheeks to wipe your salty tears away as he chuckled at your distress.

tonight isn't so melancholic and lonely anymore.

TAGS ★ @saewako @hyoismbbg @rueclfer @sweetheartsaku @lunatiqez @sepptember @loveriotss @bbluefllame @noirflms @anqelically @haunted4kent

© SENEON 2024 ♱ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[thebestandrealestever]

~MILES HEARTBREAK!~

reader tries to help miles navigate his feelings . warns : heavy descriptions of grief, suicidal thoughts if u squint, eating problems a lil. reader granny dead not proofread! a/n: i miss my grandmother i’m projecting eat my ass .

how much better, can i show my love for you? and say i do i do i do, i do i do i do .

miles couldn’t. he just could not. he couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t process it, he couldn’t wrap his head around it, he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t move. his dad couldn’t do any of those things so how could he? how could he exist a world where his dad ceased ? i mean how selfish is that ? laughing or eating or speaking when he wasn’t there to do it with him. so there he laid, in his bed for the fourth day straight. he hadn’t eaten or even changed his clothes since it happened only time he moved was when his eyes opened and closed from being asleep to awoke. mind flooding with memories when things were good, trying to remember every time they spoke and cursing himself in his head when he failed to remember a certain conversation or outfit he wore or when they fought, his family was ruined, he cursed his father for leaving, did he have to save that kid? did he have to be so fucking empathetic and giving that he gave his life? does he even fucking know what he did? how could he exist without him ? why should he…miles mind flickered between thoughts of wanting to up there and be with his father but knowing he couldn’t give his mother another heartbreak. oh! his mother. oh he couldn’t bare to see his mom upset, he hasn’t even seen her since . he heard her sobs at night and her footsteps in the morning, always pretending to be asleep when she entered his room. he knew he was a coward for not being able to see her, he wasn’t the new man of the house. he could never be. he could never be anything without his father. so, there he laid.

you may not know right where you’re going but i do, i do, i do. and all the times you wasn’t chosen, well i’ll make it up to you.

your pov!

you were sad, your boyfriends dad was dead. you tried texting him and calling him but to no avail, he never responded. you weren’t upset, when your grandma passed you did the same thing to miles. mr. morales was kinda like your dad in a way seeing as thought you never really had one. he drove you to school, bought you food. you thought about that one time you both had a heart to heart conversation. he had comforted you at the funeral, you teared up thinking about it. you opened miles text to see a thread of blue messages, multiple im sorry texts and good morning/night ones. you move your fingers to text him again, stopping when you realized he wasn’t gonna answer . so you got up and got ready, he needed you, so you were gonna be there. you drove all the way there just to hesitate knocking, you didn’t know why you were afraid . right before you knocked the door opened, it was mrs. morales . “oh, hello mija.” he said with a sadness that brought her tone down. you looked at her face, it was dark and the slightly purple bags under her eyes seemed to pull the rest of her face down you stared for a bit before pulling her into a big hug . you mumbled “i’m so sorry. i can’t even imagine.” she sighed at your words and just hummed “i’ll be okay, i don’t know about miles though. he hasn’t left his room since. please check on him.” she said as she pulled away from the hug keeping her hands on your shoulders, you have her a reassuring smile, “okay mrs. morales.” your eyes widened as it slipped out and she looked down. fuck. could you call her that still? she just smiled and squeezed your shoulders “im going to the store, keep my mind occupied. i’ll be back soon.” she said walking away and you looked into the house for a little walking in as if you were being drawn to miles room.

all of the feelings you’re not showing, when your rivers overflowing.

you knocked on the door, when you heard no response you opened it, revealing the look of miles lying on his bed low eyed and eye bags forming, the smell of grief and pain filled the room. the person that made the world bright was so dark now, your heart pang with guilt, why couldn’t you take this away from him ? his eyes looked at the door, when he saw you he sat up but didn’t say anything his eyes filling up with tears again just at the sight of you

“i’m sorry baby.. i’m so sorry.” you said with the softest voice you could muster up. “don’t apologize, not your fault.” his low voice croaked out, you can tell it was his first time saying anything in a while. “can i s-“. “please.” his unusually low voice interrupted you, you took your stuff off and sat on the bed. “have you eaten, or showered?” you ask miles as you turn your head to hold his hand, his silence is your answer so you get up and hold out your other hand to him, “come on, you need eat and shower.” he looked at your hand then back at you, before slowly getting up to follow you. as you stood in the shower with him, the water running on both of you as you washed his back you could hear him sighing deeply and see his back falling up and down with a faster pace than before. he was crying. you tap his shoulder and he turns around, the water from the shower hiding his tears. he pulls you in for a tight hug, like it he let go would you leave too. “thank you, i love you so much.” he softly said and you just smiled “i love you miles.”

it’s the truth, swear to you. i do i do i do i do, i do. and all that you are i do.

seeing miles so down reminded you of when you were like this, broken and in desperate need of love and miles gave it to you, the least you could do was make sure he was straight. you took out his braids and washed his hair and rio must’ve came back in the house because you could smell food cooking. “have you talked to her?” you said putting on some clothes. “no, i-i don’t know how.” “you should, you have to. if it’s one thing i know it’s that you need each other right now.” he looked out his door to see his mother with her back turned to the stove. he sighed and called out to her “mami?” he said walking up behind her and she turned to him, they hugged and you smiled at the scene. you retrieved the things you needed to do miles hair, you knew he didn’t want any braids now so you were just gonna detangle and blow dry it . miles sits on a pillow on the floor between your legs as you do his hair, rio setting down 2 plates of food for you and miles as she sits down placing the one for herself on the couch arm beside her. all three of you sit there watching whatever movie was playing, comfortable silence settled upon the three of you. after miles ate he fell asleep, just as you finished and were about to wake him up you look over your shoulder to see mrs.morales asleep too. you got up to clean up, tip toeing to not step on any cracks. you put up the food and washed the dishes making sure all the doors were locked and lights turned off. you returned to the couch and tapped mrs morales arm waking her softly. “let’s get you to your bed.” you said quietly helping her up being careful not to wake miles or fully wake mrs. morales you led her to her room and she got in falling back asleep, as you were about to leave “thank you, (name)” she said sleepily and you smiled twisting the handle to open the door “of course.” you said closing her door softly and walking back to see nobody there.

my single line of stars in noon, reflection of the very moon i do, i do i do i do.

you walk into miles room seeing him sitting up on his bed, shirt off and head in his hands. “does it get easier ?” he asks with a tone that suggest he’s afraid. your face softens and you kiss your teeth thinking about your own grief “yea i think so. the worst thing that could’ve happened already happened, the only thing you can do now is grow. it doesn’t get smaller, but you do grow bigger than it.” you say sitting down beside him rubbing his back, he lets out a breath and looks into your eyes “im so thankful for you, i really need you (name).” you softly kiss his lips then cup his face to kiss his forehead. you get into the bed and he lays on top of you rubbing his face in your neck “i love you.” he says again quieter than before and you frown at feeling his tears run down your neck “i love you too, and i’ll be here. the whole way. always.”

can i show my love for you?