#there is something comforting about this song | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

astrcmoni · 23 hours ago

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୨♡୧⁀➷cupid’s kiss ୨♡୧⁀➷

MASTERLIST

synopsis: the city hums around you, a fleeting backdrop to roses, laughter, and the heat of her gaze. by night’s end, only tangled limbs and breathless whispers remain—fragments of a valentine’s you’ll never forget.

pairing: fem!reader x billie eilish

genre: fluff, smut

wc: 12.2k

warnings: car sex, cunnilingus (r! receiving), sexual teasing, talk of cum, making out ( let me know if i missed any)

authors note: i know this is coming out late but take it anyways. hope you enjoy this, happy valentine’s day everyone 💋

the soft melody of an old r&b song drifts quietly throughout your room, threading through the warm glow of the bedside lamp. the air is thick with the scent of vanilla and shea butter, settling into your skin like a second layer, like something familiar. your body sways slightly, hips moving in time with the slow rhythm, a motion so natural it feels like breathing.

your fingers find the lip liner with ease, wrapping delicately around its sleek body before lifting it to your mouth. the deep burgundy wax blooms against your skin as you trace the curve of your bottom lip, slow and steady, like painting something sacred. your cupid’s bow follows next, the tip of the pencil pressing just enough to carve out the shape, to sculpt without effort. your ring finger grazes the edge of your lips, the warmth of your skin melting the pigment just enough to blur the lines. slow, deliberate strokes soften the burgundy, blending it inward, fading like dusk into the fullness of your mouth. the color settles into something effortless, something lived-in—like you’ve been kissed, like you’ve kissed back.

your hand drifts to the tube of clear gloss lying discarded on your vanity, the light catching its sleek surface as your fingers wrap around it. you twist it open, pulling the wand free with a quiet pop before guiding it over your lips. the gloss drenches them in liquid shine, turning the deep berry into something richer, something decadent. it clings to every curve, catching the light with every slight movement. you part your lips just a little, watching how the gloss gleams, how it makes your mouth look fuller, softer—irresistible.

you lean back in your chair, eyes locked on your reflection, watching the way the gloss glows under the soft light. the burgundy, now hugged by gloss, looks like wine under candlelight—deep, warm, and impossible to ignore. you smack your lips together slightly, the wet sheen catching for a moment before settling again. satisfied, you reach up, fingers curling around one of the pinned rollers, sliding out the clip that holds it in place. the strand unfurls, falling in a soft wave against your shoulder.

this motion repeats, fingers working with practiced ease, unpinning each roller, letting the fresh blowout cascade around your face. the weight of your hair feels different now, lighter, freer. the song shifts, a familiar melody slipping through the speakers, and without thinking, your voice joins in—barely above a whisper, tracing the lyrics with quiet ease.

you reach for your black comb, running it through your hair, each strand slipping over the wide teeth like silk unraveling. the motion is rhythmic, soothing, a quiet kind of ritual that settles you further into the warmth of the moment.

the song playing is familiar, comforting—a melody wrapped in nostalgia, threaded with slow, honeyed vocals that make you feel like you’re sinking into something soft and golden. everything about this moment feels unhurried, like the night itself is waiting patiently for you to step into it. the scent of your perfume lingers in the air, a quiet presence mixing with the rhythm of the music, and for a second, you close your eyes, letting it all settle over you like a second skin.

nights like these make getting ready easy, slipping into the three-hour routine you’ve perfected over the years. there’s a tranquility in it, in the way you take your time, in the way you indulge yourself with each step. so when billie had told you earlier this week that on friday—valentine’s day—she was taking you out, you’d immediately started planning. appointments were booked, outfits were considered, and questions were asked, most of which she refused to answer, a teasing smile playing at the corners of her lips. “can’t give up the surprise,” she had murmured against your cheek, her breath warm, her fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. she did love to entertain your excitement, though, only telling you what she wanted you to know—just enough to keep you on edge, just enough to make you anticipate. dress cute but comfortable, that was all she’d given you, and somehow, it was enough.

the sound of keys jingling snaps you from your reverie, followed by the quiet creak of the front door unlocking, then locking again. a smile tugs at your lips, your heart picking up its pace just slightly as you hear the familiar weight of her footsteps approaching.

billie’s socks slide against the hardwood floor, the sound soft but distinct, accompanied by the light jangle of her keys in her pocket and the faint rustling of bags in her grasp. you don’t turn around just yet, but the curve of your lips deepens at the sound of her voice.

“baby, where are you?” her voice carries through the house, warm and familiar, wrapped in something easy, something tender.

“in here,” you call out, still running the comb through your hair, smoothing out the last few strands.

a few seconds later, she appears in the doorway, still bundled up from the february cold. the soft glow of your vanity lights catches the flushed pink of her cheeks, the tip of her nose slightly red from the chill. the red roots of her hair peek out from under her beanie, strands slipping loose beneath the hood of her sweatshirt. her eyes find yours instantly, flickering with something warm, something knowing.

she steps inside the room, making her way toward you, the scent of winter clinging to her clothes—cold air and something faintly sweet, like the bakery she always stops at on her way home.

your head tilts slightly to the left as you notice her hands hidden behind her back, her body language giving her away before she even speaks.

“hi, mama,” she starts, her voice soft, threaded with something breathless, like she rushed home just to give you whatever she’s holding.

she reveals her hands, stretching them toward you, and your breath catches just slightly. deep red roses, wrapped in crisp black paper, petals full and velvety to the touch. the contrast is striking—the darkness of the wrapping making the red stand out even richer, deeper. it’s intentional, you know that. billie has always had a way of making things feel like more than just gestures.

you turn fully to face her, your hands lifting as you take the bouquet, your nails grazing over the back of her hands in the process, a fleeting touch that makes her fingers twitch slightly. your fingertips brush the petals in quiet admiration, feeling the delicate texture beneath them. the scent fills your nose, heady and intoxicating—rich yet soft, like something meant to linger.

billie watches you, studying your reaction, the corner of her lip twitching like she’s holding back a smirk. there’s something in the way she looks at you—like she’s memorizing every detail, like she’s already picturing you in her arms later tonight. the warmth of it spreads through you, slow and deliberate, settling in your chest like a steady flame.

“these are gorgeous, babe. thank you.”

you tuck the flowers against your arm before reaching up, fingers finding the familiar warmth of her face. her skin is cool from the outside air, but she leans into your touch instinctively, eyes half-lidded, lips curving into something soft.

“it was nothing much, but you’re welcome.”

she inches closer, her breath warm against your lips before they finally meet—soft, lingering, unhurried. the kiss is brief but enough to send a slow shiver down your spine, enough to make her chase your lips when you pull away. her mouth parts slightly, instinctively, like she wasn’t ready to let you go just yet.

you chuckle under your breath, running your thumb over her lips, the smooth acrylic gliding over her plump skin—slightly sticky from your gloss. she lets out a soft hum at the touch, and just as her hands start to settle on your waist, you gently push her back.

“actually,” you start, rising from your vanity with ease before walking toward your side of the shared closet. “i have something for you too.”

billie watches you with open curiosity, shifting her weight, eyes following every move you make. she tugs at the hem of her hoodie absentmindedly as you crouch down, disappearing slightly into the closet’s dim interior.

your hands glide over folded sweaters, past stacked shoeboxes, feeling your way toward the back until your fingers brush against the satin ribbon-wrapped handle of the basket you’ve been carefully putting together for the past few days. you lift it gently, pulling it into the light, and stand, turning toward billie with a small smile as you stretch the basket toward her.

her eyes widen slightly, face lighting up as she takes it, fingers tracing over the red bow with something reverent. she shifts the weight of it in her hands, eyes scanning the contents nestled carefully in soft pink tissue paper—the little details that only you would think of, the things you know she’d love.

a candle that smells like vanilla and warm musk, the kind she always lights the second she gets home. a handwritten letter, its rose-colored envelope sealed with a kiss of your burgundy lip liner. a small plushie tucked beside her favorite snacks, something soft, something sentimental. and at the very center, a small box tied with a silk ribbon, holding a delicate bracelet that catches the light just enough to glint, subtle but intentional—just like her.

her smile spreads into a grin, the small gems on her teeth catching the glow of your vanity lights. she lifts her gaze back to you, something playful settling in her eyes.

“are you trying to one-up me?”

“always.” your response is immediate, your voice carrying the same playful lilt as hers.

billie exhales a soft laugh before setting the basket down carefully on your vanity, her fingers lingering on the ribbon for a moment before she turns back to you. without hesitation, she steps in close, arms slipping around your torso as she pulls you into her warmth.

you melt into it, arms looping around the back of her neck, fingers instinctively tangling together as your thumbs rest against her skin. her red roots brush against your knuckles, the smaller pieces of hair swaying slightly as you rub slow circles into the nape of her neck.

she leans down again, lips finding yours in a kiss slower than the last—soft, sweet, deep enough to make your breath hitch. it’s just enough to leave you wanting more before she pulls away, a quiet smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“i gotta shower,” she murmurs, eyes flicking over you with something unreadable, something lingering. “but thank you for the gifts.”

her hands slide from your waist, moving with purpose, fingers trailing over each curve of your body as she makes her way up to where your hands rest against her neck. carefully, she unlaces your fingers from each other before cupping them in her own, holding them between you like something precious.

she squeezes once, gentle but firm, like a silent promise.

“i’ll be quick,” she adds, voice low, almost teasing. “don’t miss me too much.”

she takes a step back, her blue eyes raking over you in slow, deliberate strokes, like she’s committing every inch of you to memory.

your brow quirks in light confusion. “what? do i have something on me?”

billie huffs out a small laugh before reaching for your hand, lifting it above your head with gentle ease. “nah,” she murmurs, spinning you slowly. the skirt of your dress fans out as you move, fabric catching the soft glow of the vanity lights. when you come back around to face her, her smile has deepened, something playful tugging at her lips. “just admiring, that’s all.”

your eyes roll instinctively, but the warmth spreading across your chest betrays you. placing your hands on her chest, you give her a gentle push, the fabric of her hoodie soft beneath your palms. “will you hurry and go clean up so we can go?”

“pushy, pushy,” she teases, but she leans in anyway, pressing a kiss just beneath your ear, her lips lingering for a second longer than necessary. the hum she lets out vibrates against your skin before she pulls away, fingers already toying with the hem of her hoodie. she strips down with ease, leaving a trail of discarded clothes as she makes her way toward the connecting bathroom.

you shake your head at the mess she leaves behind, turning your attention to the bouquet still in your arms. you place the roses in a vase, arranging them carefully, the deep red petals almost glowing against the dim light of the room. the scent of them mixes with the faint traces of billie’s cologne still clinging to the air, something warm, something familiar.

the sound of water rushing through the pipes fills the space, followed by the muffled slide of the shower door.

“so, are you excited for tonight?” billie’s voice carries over the hiss of the water.

“i would be if i knew what it was, billie.”

“the whole point of a surprise date is so that it can be that—a surprise,” she teases. “just trust me, babe.”

you hum thoughtfully, bare feet padding softly against the carpet as you make your way to the bathroom. heat rises to greet you, steam curling around the glass shower door, clinging to the mirror. you lean against the doorframe, watching as billie’s figure shifts behind the fogged glass, her movements slow and unhurried.

“should i be worried?” you ask, voice laced with playful suspicion.

“no, not at all,” she says smoothly. “but you might wanna wear something cute and comfortable.”

“so, no heels then?”

she hums, considering. “mm… not tonight. your boots would look really cute with your fit.” a pause. “but you’ll still look fine as hell no matter what you decide.”

you shake your head, grinning. “flatterer.”

billie laughs, the sound soft and unfiltered, mixing with the warmth of the room. you stay there, talking about everything and nothing, letting the conversation weave between teasing remarks and familiar comforts.

soon enough, the water cuts off, the steam thick in the air as billie steps out. a towel is wrapped loosely around her torso, droplets of water still clinging to her skin, trailing slow paths down the curves of her body. the scent of her vanilla body wash wraps around you as she moves past, something rich and sweet, something undeniably her.

your eyes follow her, drawn to the way her damp hair drips against the towel slung around her shoulders, how her fingers comb through the strands with ease. she moves toward her side of the dresser, pulling out pieces of clothing with the same quiet deliberation she does everything else.

she hums softly as she gets dressed, a song that’s been playing faintly in the background, one you hadn’t even realized she was paying attention to. your gaze lingers as she buttons up her black shirt, her fingers sliding each button into its designated slot with ease. the fabric molds against her frame, and your focus catches on the slight flex of her biceps as she adjusts the cuffs, rolling them up just enough to reveal the lines of ink along her hand.

her eyes flick up toward the mirror, lips twitching into a smirk when she catches your gaze in the reflection. the soft glow of the vanity lights frames her features, turning her crystalline blue eyes into something almost ethereal, something impossible to look away from.

“you getting distracted?” she teases, slipping rings onto her fingers with practiced ease, the metal gliding against her skin. she picks up a delicate chain next, fastening the clasp at the nape of her neck, all without breaking eye contact.

“what? no, shut up,” you mutter, fighting the smile tugging at your lips. the warmth in her stare makes your stomach flip, but you ignore it, turning your attention to your jewelry box instead.

the sable black wood is smooth beneath your fingertips, the hinges sighing softly as you lift the lid. inside, nestled among delicate chains and glinting rings, rests a golden watch—slim, dainty, timeless. the light catches on its polished surface, tracing over the fine links of its bracelet, the minimalist face gleaming under the glow of the room.

with careful fingers, you lift it from its place, the cool metal whispering against your skin as you drape it over your wrist. the clasp clicks softly as you fasten it, the weight settling against you like it was made to be there. the gold catches the light, warm and radiant, an understated elegance that feels like a quiet kind of power.

you reach back into the box, extracting a necklace, its chain the same golden shade as your watch, its charm a simple letter. the ‘b’ sways lightly between your fingers, gleaming under the soft light. before you can put it on, billie stretches out her hand, palm up, a silent request.

you don’t hesitate. you never do.

stepping behind you, billie takes both ends of the necklace, the cool metal hovering just above your collarbone as her fingers slide over the clasp. her touch is featherlight, the brief brush of her knuckles against your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. she hooks the clasp into place, then adjusts the necklace so the charm rests perfectly at the base of your throat.

but she doesn’t step away just yet.

her hands skim down your sides, fingertips grazing the fabric of your dress before settling on your hips. her eyes meet yours in the mirror, a silent moment stretching between you, filled with something unspoken, something deep.

your own initial rests boldly against her neck, a silver version instead of gold, the contrast striking yet complementary. a matched set, tied together in quiet devotion.

billie breaks the silence first, her voice soft but sure. “c’mon, we better go before we’re late.”

her fingers lace through yours, warm and familiar, and she leads you downstairs without another word.

you both move in sync, slipping on your shoes, grabbing your belongings with the kind of effortless ease that only comes with time. the door swings open, and the cool night air greets you, crisp and full of promise.

and just like that, you step out into the night, hand in hand.

the restaurant hums with low chatter and the soft clinking of silverware, but in your little corner booth, the world feels quieter, smaller—just the two of you wrapped up in each other. the dim lighting bathes the table in a soft amber glow, reflecting off wine glasses, the edges of flickering candlelight, and the soft sheen of your girlfriend’s silver jewelry, each little detail seeming to highlight the intimacy between you.

dinner feels like a secret, just the two of you tucked into the booth, close enough that your thighs press together, the warmth of her body a constant against yours. the room is alive with the sounds of the evening, but here, it’s just you two—the scent of rich food and something faintly floral lingering in the air, heavy with comfort and quiet affection.

instead of sitting across from each other, billie pulls you in beside her, her arm draped casually around the back of your seat, fingers lightly grazing your shoulder.

“you look so pretty,” she murmurs, her voice soft but sure, fingers tracing lazy, comforting patterns over your thigh, each stroke a promise, a reassurance.

you turn your head slightly, catching the fond smile tugging at her lips, the way her eyes soften when she looks at you. “you’ve said that three times already.”

she shrugs, her lips curling into an easy smile, unfazed by your teasing. “and i’ll say it again and again. and again.”

you roll your eyes playfully, but your heart flutters at the simplicity of the compliment. the sincerity of it makes the moment feel like something sacred, tucked away just for the two of you.

you lean into her side, your head coming to rest on a familiar shoulder, and breathe her in. her scent is intoxicating—vanilla with something deeper, more complex, something both soft and strong, feminine and masculine in perfect harmony. it clings to her skin, lingering in the collar of her shirt, curling into the space between you both, the scent threading through the warmth that lingers in the air.

“you smell so good,” you murmur, voice soft, just above a whisper, letting the words dissolve between your lips and her neck, filling the space around you with the quiet, tender intimacy of the moment.

billie huffs out a small laugh, fingers still toying with the lace of your stockings where her hand rests on your thigh. “i sure would hope so,” she teases, the smirk evident in her voice even before she presses a slow, deliberate kiss to the top of your head, her lips warm against the crown of your hair.

“why can’t you ever just accept the compliment?” the back of your hand meets her chest in a gentle hit, teasing but full of affection.

a soft chuckle escapes billie, her fingers still tracing idle patterns along your thigh. with a shift, she pulls out her phone, the screen lighting up in the dim atmosphere as she angles it to capture the moment. she snaps a few pictures—one with your faces close, the other where she leans in just enough to plant a kiss on your temple. her lips curl into a playful grin as she murmurs, “i hope you know that you’re really pretty.”

the phone is set aside, forgotten, discarded in favor of the quiet moment shared between you, the flashes of her smile and the soft hum of her voice lingering in the air, more cherished than any photograph could ever capture.

not long after, your plates arrive, the scent of rich spices and warm dishes curling into the air, drawing you both back to the present. you straighten just enough to reach for your fork, but billie’s arm doesn’t leave your side, her fingers still tracing small, absent patterns over the lace of your stockings.

dinner is slow, unhurried. you steal bites from each other’s plates, laughing at the most random things, exchanging soft kisses that feel like nothing and everything all at once—moments so small but somehow monumental in their own way. the world outside this booth fades into the background as you talk about everything from childhood memories to plans for the future.

the night is intimate, effortless—woven together with the kind of love that doesn’t need grand gestures or fireworks, just the softness of shared space, quiet compliments, the lightest touches, and the way your scents linger together in the small moments.

by the time dessert arrives, the last remnants of dinner sit on the table—half-empty glasses, a shared dessert plate with only a few crumbs left behind. the warmth of the evening lingers still, like the soft, steady beat of her heart beneath your palm. billie’s arm is still around you, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles against your hip, the world outside the restaurant fading into something almost dreamlike.

billie reaches for the black checkbook the waiter left behind, flipping it open with a practiced flick of her wrist. her gaze lingers on the receipt for a moment, brows lifting slightly at the total, before she hums in approval, a quiet, satisfied sound that melts into the warm, dim atmosphere of the restaurant.

with your head still resting on her shoulder, you tilt your chin just enough to steal a glance at the numbers, your lips curling into a playful smirk. “not bad,” you murmur, your voice low, teasing, the words slipping out like a secret only the two of you share.

she lets out a soft chuckle, nudging you gently with her elbow. “you got a pen?” she asks, tapping the checkbook with her fingertips, the quiet request cutting through the gentle hum of the restaurant. “they forgot to bring one.”

without hesitation, you reach for your purse, fingers sifting through its contents, the familiar feel of soft leather under your fingertips grounding you in this quiet moment. you pull out a sleek, black pen, placing it in her waiting hand, watching as she takes it with a quick, fluid motion.

you watch as she signs the tip portion first, the ink gliding smoothly over the paper in practiced strokes, the sound of the pen scratching against the paper almost melodic in the stillness. then, with a small flourish, she signs off at the bottom—B.E. the letters are clean, effortless, holding a quiet confidence, the kind that’s always been so distinctly her. the way she carries herself, even in the smallest gestures, leaves an imprint on everything she touches.

after capping the pen and handing it back, your girlfriend slips a hand behind her phone, pulling out her sleek black american express card tucked safely in its case. the metal glints in the dim lighting as she slides it into the pocket of the checkbook with a satisfying tap, the motion final, almost ceremonial, as if everything is in its place now.

“there,” she leans in, her voice low and smooth against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “all taken care of. so, are you ready for part two?” the waiter comes back around to your table, taking the little black book and slipping away to the back.

your hands wrap around her forearm, pulling her a little closer as you lift an eyebrow, brows shooting up in surprise at her question. “there’s more?”

“baby, there’s always more.” she grins, lips widening into that familiar, knowing smile of hers. she shifts slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, the gesture tender, the warmth of her lips lingering.

your eyes wander around the restaurant, your mind spinning with endless possibilities of what could be next, the anticipation building. “where are we going?”

she smirks, slipping the black card back into her phone once the waiter returns, the subtle click of the card’s return echoing between you. “that’s for me to know and you to find out.” her tone is teasing, playful, as if she holds all the answers, but she’s not giving anything away just yet.

you purse your lips, trying to stop yourself from rolling your eyes for the thousandth time that night at her crypticness. but the corner of your mouth lifts, betraying the smile that threatens to break free. sliding out of the booth, billie stands, offering her hand to help you out of your seat, the warmth of her palm a comfort against yours. you take it without thinking, the connection between you electric, her hand soft but firm in yours.

she pulls you into a quick kiss, a soft press of her lips to yours, pulling away with a small hum of satisfaction before intertwining your fingers again. without missing a beat, she pulls you toward the door, your steps in sync, the cool night air just beyond, waiting to greet you both.

turns out, part two is top golf.

you burst out laughing as soon as she parks the car, the sound echoing into the quiet night. “seriously?” you ask, incredulous.

she grins, unbuckling her seatbelt with that familiar confident flick of her wrist. “what? you thought i was gonna take you to some bougie rooftop?”

“i don’t know what i thought,” you admit, still chuckling. “wasn’t expecting this though. but just so you know, i’m gonna win and whoop your ass in the process.”

“if you say so,” she replies, her voice laced with playful arrogance. “we all know i’m the real mvp when it comes to this.” the competitive fire in her voice sparks yours, and just like that, the trash talk begins.

the night air is crisp as billie opens the car door and steps out, the neon blue and green lights from the towering topgolf building ahead casting a vibrant glow that dances across her face. you pull your jacket tighter around you, feeling the cool bite of the night, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of your competitive banter. billie jogs around to your side, opening the door for you with a proud little smirk.

“chivalry isn’t dead, i see,” you tease, taking her hand as she helps you out of the car, your fingers intertwining effortlessly.

she winks, that signature glint in her eyes. “not when it comes to you.”

you round the car, making your way to the trunk. with the press of a button, the trunk pops open, and you dig around until you find what you’re looking for—a pair of random sneakers that somehow always end up in each other’s cars. you quickly slide off your boots, switching them out for the more comfortable pair of shoes before slipping your hand back into billie’s.

together, you make your way to the building, your footsteps light but purposeful.

inside, the atmosphere is buzzing—low music hums over the speakers, filling the space with an easy energy. the scent of fresh food and warm pretzels hangs in the air, mixing with the excitement that pulses through the crowd. billie leads the way, her fingers laced through yours, guiding you toward a private bay on the upper level.

you step out onto the platform, the cool breeze kissing your skin as you take in the sight of the open-air range stretched out before you. small targets glow in various colors across the field, the soft thrum of the city’s skyline flickering faintly in the distance. the air is crisp and clean, nipping at your skin with the promise of something new.

“i won’t lie, this is pretty cool,” you admit, leaning against the railing, your voice quieter now, soaking in the moment. “didn’t expect this for valentine’s, though.”

billie grins, grabbing a golf club from the rack, her fingers curling around it with the same ease she handles everything else. “you know i like to keep you on your toes.”

she moves toward the tee, rolling her shoulders like she’s about to do something serious. you cross your arms over your chest, watching her with a mixture of admiration and amusement. she plants her feet, squares her shoulders, and grips the club with entirely too much confidence, as if she’s the queen of golf—never mind that she’s never swung a club in her life.

“you’ve never golfed before, have you?” you ask, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“nope,” she replies confidently, rolling her shoulders again, a small huff escaping her. “but i’ve watched golf before. can’t be that hard.”

you stifle a laugh, shaking your head. “famous last words. okay, we’ll see.”

“watch and learn, baby.” she takes a deep breath, a focused look crossing her face as she swings the club—

—and completely misses the ball.

a laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it, and you quickly cover your mouth to stifle it, but the sound escapes anyway. she straightens up, staring down at the untouched ball with a look of pure betrayal, as if it’s personally offended her.

“that was practice,” she mutters, giving you a look of mock annoyance.

“uh huh, sure it was,” you tease, barely holding back another laugh.

she tries again—this time, she makes contact, but the ball barely rolls off the tee, a soft, unimpressive nudge that doesn’t go anywhere near the target. you double over laughing now, unable to hold it in, while billie pouts, gripping the club like she’s debating throwing it across the range.

she tries once more, swinging with more force this time, the ball barely rolling off the tee again, stopping embarrassingly short of the edge.

“oh wow,” you say, feigning awe, crossing your arms. “real impressive, tiger woods.”

billie groans, dragging a hand down her face in exasperation. “this shit is so annoying.”

you step toward her, shaking your head fondly. “here, let me help.”

“okay, first of all, that’s not how you hold it,” you say, sliding in behind her, your voice warm against her ear. you wrap your arms around her waist, gently guiding her hands to the club. billie relaxes against you, her body fitting perfectly with yours as she tilts her head just enough for her nose to brush against your cheek.

“this is just an excuse to be all over me, isn’t it?” she murmurs, her voice dropping low, just enough to send a shiver down your spine, making your heart beat a little faster.

you smirk, letting your hands linger longer than necessary as you adjust her grip. “maybe.”

her breath is soft on your skin as you guide her through the motion, adjusting her stance, speaking in a calm, steady whisper. she listens intently, her usual cocky confidence melting into something else—vulnerable, trusting. you pull her arms back with yours before swinging forward together, your hearts aligned for just a moment. when she swings this time, the ball sails smoothly through the air, slicing the cool night sky before landing in one of the further targets.

billie gasps, her eyes wide in disbelief, and then she breaks into a triumphant cheer. “did you see that?”

you laugh, clapping along with her, unable to stop the smile from spreading across your face. “okay, i’ll give you that one.”

“i’m such a natural,” she says smugly, grabbing another ball with a flourish, her pride practically radiating from her. “bet i can do it again.”

she tries. and she fails.

you don’t even bother hiding your laughter this time, the sound spilling out freely, echoing in the open space. billie glares at the club, as though it’s personally betrayed her, before she sets it down with a dramatic sigh, her shoulders slumping in mock defeat.

“alright, your turn,” she declares, grabbing your hand and pulling you forward, her fingers warm and confident in yours.

you smirk, stepping up to the tee. “are you sure? i really don’t wanna embarrass you more than i already have.”

“girl, please,” billie scoffs, crossing her arms with a raised brow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “let’s see what you got.”

“don’t say i didn’t tell you so,” you warn, your voice playful, but with a hint of challenge. billie rolls her eyes but can’t quite hide the smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

grabbing the club from her hand, you turn back to the tee, adjusting your stance, lining up your shot with precision. the cool air brushes against your face, but all you feel is the steady calm in your chest. you take a steady breath, the world slowing down as you pull back. and then you swing—watching as the ball soars effortlessly through the air, its trajectory perfect, landing dead center in one of the smaller, harder-to-hit targets.

you smile to yourself, turning to billie, who’s staring at you with wide eyes and a mock pout. “well, i guess i did warn you,” you say, voice light but triumphant.

billie crosses her arms over her chest, her grin impossible to suppress. “alright, alright. you’re good. but i’m still gonna beat you next round.”

billie lets out a low whistle, her gaze lingering on you with a mischievous smile. “well damn. look at you.”

you grin, turning toward her, an eyebrow arched in playful challenge. “what, impressed?”

she gestures lazily toward the club in your hand, her lips curling into a half-smirk. “nah, just realizing i have no shot at winning.”

“it’s all love for the game, baby. all love.” you tease, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek before handing her back the golf club, your fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

the night stretches on, the air growing cooler but the energy between you two never faltering. playful bets are made, stolen kisses shared, and competitive spirits run high, but it’s never about the score—it’s the moments in between, the laughter, the teasing, the way your fingers always seem to find each other in the quietest moments.

at some point, billie decides she’s had enough of golf and just wants to watch you play. she leans against the railing, her chin resting in her hands, her eyes fixed on you like you’re the only thing worth looking at. her smile is soft but mischievous, and every time you line up a shot, she can’t resist making sly comments.

“bet you can’t hit that red target.”

you take a breath, steady your stance, and with a smooth swing, you nail it. the ball rips through the air, landing right in the center of the red target.

billie’s eyes widen, a laugh escaping her lips. “i mean, okay, but can you do it again?”

you don’t even hesitate, stepping up and lining up your shot once more. this time, you hit it even more effortlessly, the ball flying through the air with a perfect arc, landing in the same spot.

billie’s mouth drops open in awe, a laugh escaping her. “oh,” she says, blinking rapidly as if she’s trying to process what just happened. “so you’ve clearly done this before.”

you glance at her, a smirk tugging at your lips as you shrug casually. “i told you i was gonna win. all them summers working at the country clubs are finally paying off.”

her gaze softens as she looks at you, something between admiration and amusement twinkling in her eyes. “you’re a showoff, you know that?”

“maybe,” you reply with a wink. “but you love it.”

when the game winds down and the competitive fire starts to fade, the two of you pack up the equipment and make your way back to the car. hand in hand, you walk in comfortable silence, the sounds of the night around you soft and distant. the car sits idly in the driveway, the engine’s hum now silenced, but neither of you makes a move to get out just yet.

the warmth of the evening clings to you both—the laughter, the touches, the shared moments. you lean into one another, heads resting against the soft leather of the car seats, letting the night wash over you. the radio hums low in the background, filling the quiet space between breaths, the soft melody a perfect contrast to the silence surrounding you.

billie traces lazy circles on your knee, her fingers moving with an absent rhythm as she speaks in a softer tone, her voice barely louder than the hum of the radio.

“i just can’t believe…” she begins, her voice trailing off as she drops her head against your shoulder, pressing a soft smooch against the exposed skin of your neck. you feel the warmth of her breath, the weight of her presence, before she continues, her voice playful but with an edge of disbelief. “i got hustled on valentine’s day.”

you chuckle softly, a grin tugging at your lips. “i told you that i would beat you, did i not?”

“you did, you did.” her body shakes with laughter, the sound rich and deep, filling the car with warmth. the vibrations of her amusement carry through her body, against yours, and you close your eyes for a moment, letting the sensation wash over you. she tilts her head slightly, looking up at you with that familiar glint in her eyes. “did you have fun?” she asks, her voice soft, almost tender, as if she already knows the answer.

you glance at her, caught in the way the streetlights reflect in her eyes, the way the soft curve of her lips pulls at your heart. something about this moment, about her, feels like it’s suspended in time.

“yeah,” you murmur, leaning into her, feeling her warmth seep into your skin. “i really did. thank you.”

you shift slightly, turning towards her. your hands find her face, cupping it gently, your thumb brushing over the soft skin of her cheek. you tilt her chin upward with your fingers, and she meets your gaze, her lashes fluttering slightly as if she’s still processing the moment. you don’t rush it. you take your time, breathing her in, feeling the weight of her in your arms. you brush your nose against hers, the tip of your lips grazing her skin, before closing the space between you.

when your lips meet hers, the kiss is slow, tender—a stark contrast to the fiery ones you shared earlier in the night. it lingers, soft and sweet, and when you pull back, your hand still rests gently on her jaw, your breath mingling with hers. your eyes trace over her face, soaking in the small details—the way the moonlight dances across her freckled skin, the cool acrylic of your nails making contact with her soft skin beneath her eyes. her blue eyes meet yours through thick lashes, steady and knowing.

you push a stray lock of hair behind her ear, admiring the vibrant red gradient in her hair. the soft, colorful streaks stand out against the dim light, adding to the allure of the moment. “my pretty lady,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath, your words falling into the quiet void of the night.

billie’s lips curl into a small, knowing smile, her eyes soft and full of affection. her hand drifts to the side of your neck, cupping it gently. she pulls you closer, bringing your lips back to hers in a kiss that’s even more lingering, more desperate this time. her fingers tighten slightly around your neck as she murmurs, “c’mere.”

her voice is soft, but the way she tugs you forward, the way her fingers press against your skin—there’s no hesitation in her touch. no second-guessing.

you shift your body, moving onto your knees and climbing over the center console, settling yourself into her lap like you’ve done it a hundred times before. the familiarity of her body beneath yours feels like home. billie tilts her head back, her eyes heavy with desire, and she looks up at you, her hands already smoothing over your hips, guiding you closer.

you lean down again, kissing her once more. this time, it’s deeper, slower. no rush. just the two of you, lost in the quiet space of the night, in the warmth of each other. her fingers trace over your body as the kiss deepens, and everything else—the world outside, the night, the distractions—fades away, leaving only the feeling of her lips, the softness of her touch, and the rhythm of your hearts beating together.

billie’s fingers slip under the hem of your dress, tracing slow, teasing patterns along your hips, the light touch sending electric shivers up your spine. her lips move against yours with a quiet urgency, each kiss deepening, pulling you closer into her orbit. the taste of her—of warmth, of something sweet and just a little dangerous—lingers on your tongue. she sighs softly as your hand slides into her hair, your nails grazing her scalp just enough to make her shiver beneath your touch.

the moment stretches, pulling you both deeper into it, a world of soft breaths and whispered sighs until you finally break apart, just enough to catch your breath. the air between you feels thick, charged with something both tender and intoxicating.

and then you notice it.

a faint tint of your lip gloss smudged against billie’s mouth, glistening faintly under the dim light, a soft shimmer against the dark of the night. you blink, your lips curling into a small, knowing smile. then, you let out a quiet laugh, the sound soft but playful.

she frowns slightly, brows knitting together in mock confusion. “what?”

you swipe a thumb over the corner of her lips, smirking as you catch the gloss. “you got a little something there.”

billie blinks, feigning confusion, her eyes wide as if she’s innocent in all of this. “huh. weird.”

you tilt your head, the corner of your mouth twitching into a grin. “oh my god, were you kissing a girl?”

billie gasps, her eyes widening in mock horror, hands rising to her face as if she’s genuinely scandalized. “what? no, ew. i would never. didn’t even know you could kiss a girl.”

you narrow your eyes playfully, dabbing at the smudge again with your thumb, a sly grin creeping onto your lips. “mhm. sure. then where’d this lip gloss come from?”

her lips twitch, fighting the urge to smirk. she tilts her head slightly, the glint of mischief in her eyes as she leans closer. “i don’t know, maybe i just like the taste.”

you snort, the sound escaping before you can stop it. “i knew you liked wearing my lip gloss. every time i put a new coat on, you’re there to take it off.”

billie hums in amusement, letting her hands slide lower over your thighs, her touch warm and possessive as she pulls you closer. “i only like it when it tastes like you.”

her fingers tighten slightly around your hips, pulling you just a little closer as her breath warms the space between you. she murmurs, her voice low and teasing, “what flavor is this, anyways, hm?”

you barely get the word—cherry—out before she’s leaning back in, her lips pressing to yours in a kiss that’s slow, deep, and all-encompassing. she tastes the answer for herself, her mouth devouring yours with an intensity that makes your pulse race.

billie’s lips are warm and insistent against yours, a steady rhythm pulsing between you. her hands are firm on your hips, guiding you closer as she presses you down against her lap. it’s like she can’t get enough, pulling you closer still, urging your bodies to align. the teasing, playful pace from earlier has shifted into something heavier now, something more desperate, more urgent. a charge fills the air, and you know there’s no turning back from this.

her hands move with purpose, effortlessly sliding your jacket off and tossing it into the passenger seat. she crawls back up, fingers slipping under the hem of your dress, tracing the sensitive curve of your spine as she leans in, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down the line of your jaw. your breath hitches, and you tip your head to the side, exposing more of your neck as she continues her slow descent, her lips brushing over the sensitive skin there.

billie hums softly against you, the sound vibrating against your skin, before her tongue flicks out, teasing before she sucks gently at the spot. her teeth graze your skin lightly, just enough to send a jolt of heat through you. the sting is subtle but enough to make you shudder, and she feels it, her grin widening as she pulls back slightly, knowing she’s marked you.

you hesitate for only a moment, fingers fumbling at the buttons of her black shirt, your freshly done acrylics not quite cooperating. you huff, frustration creeping in as you try again, but each button seems to taunt you, stubborn and unyielding.

billie notices the shift, the slight furrow of your brows, the barely-there frustration in your movements. she chuckles softly, her lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your throat as she murmurs, “i’ll let you rip off my shirt,” her voice low, almost playful. “if you let me rip off your stockings.”

you immediately shake your head, a small, defiant smirk tugging at your lips. “hell no.”

her teeth graze your collarbone, a teasing bite that sends a shiver down your spine. “why not?” she asks, her voice dripping with mischief.

“because i like these stockings,” you argue, fingers still fumbling at her shirt. “you’ll ruin them.”

she raises an eyebrow, her smirk only deepening. “you’re literally about to ruin my shirt.”

her hands slide lower, smoothing over the sensitive skin of your thighs, and your resolve weakens. you bite your lip, still determined to win this little battle, but the buttons refuse to cooperate. billie watches you for a moment longer, her breath warm against your skin, before she lets out a soft laugh.

“just rip it, baby,” she whispers, her voice slipping into something softer, something more inviting. it’s a command wrapped in honeyed sweetness.

you glance at her, lips parted, hesitating for just a heartbeat before you finally give in. gripping the fabric of her shirt in your fists, you yank, feeling the fabric tear free with a satisfying rip. the buttons scatter across the floor of the car, a soft clatter lost beneath the hum of the engine. her shirt falls open, revealing the lacy red bra beneath, the smoothness of her skin glowing under the dim light.

billie groans, a low sound that sends another wave of heat rushing through you. her smirk widens as she takes in the moment, teasing, “see? that wasn’t so hard.”

you exhale, half amused, half breathless. “you’re ridiculous.”

she hums, hands sliding back up your thighs, fingertips brushing the tops of your stockings with a deliberate slowness. “mmm. and you still have these on,” she says, her voice soft with amusement.

you barely have time to react before her fingers hook under the thin material of your stockings, pulling with a sudden, almost greedy force. they rip apart with a sharp sound, fabric tearing easily, and you’re left breathless at the sound of it echoing between you.

“billie—” you gasp, your words cutting off as she grins at you, the heat in her eyes unmistakable.

she leans in, kissing you again, her hands gripping your bare thighs now, her touch firm and possessive as she pulls you closer, pressing you flush against her. she’s got you exactly where she wants you, and in that moment, you realize she always has.

the car feels smaller with every passing second, the space between you two shrinking with each touch. billie’s hands are everywhere—on your hips, your thighs, your back—and it only takes a slight shift for her to pull you closer. her lips find your neck with a hunger that leaves you breathless, pressing kisses along your pulse, each one lingering, tasting, claiming you. you can feel the heat of her body radiating against yours, the way her chest rises and falls with each steady breath, the rhythm syncing with the soft hum of the car, vibrating the air between you two.

billie’s lips tease your skin in that slow, deliberate way she knows drives you crazy. she finds a tender spot along your collarbone, sucking gently, and you can’t help but gasp. your hands slide into her hair, fingers gripping the strands as you pull her closer, your body melting into her touch, giving in to the way she makes you feel.

you want to tear away every last bit of space between you, want to feel every inch of her pressed against you, but there’s something intoxicating about how she keeps you on the edge, never letting you get too comfortable, too settled.

billie’s fingers trail over your bare thighs, skimming dangerously close to the places you crave her touch, but always pulling away before you can get the release you want. your hips shift, grinding ever so slightly against hers, the movement subtle but enough to make her gasp, her lips parting against your mouth as she leans into you.

“billie,” you murmur, voice strained, thick with desire.

she smiles against your skin, that familiar mischievous grin tugging at her lips, before pressing another soft kiss to your pulse. “i know. i know,” she breathes, her voice low, full of that dangerous teasing she knows you can’t resist.

your hands run over the half-ruined buttons of her shirt, the black fabric hanging off her shoulders, and your fingers graze the warmth of her skin underneath. billie shivers under your touch, her breath hitching as your nails lightly scrape down her chest, sending a shiver of her own through you.

restlessly, you shift in her lap, pressing your hips against hers again. the friction makes your breath catch, your body aching for more, and billie groans, her hands sliding down to your back, trying to pull you even closer, her grip tightening around you.

“baby,” you breathe, nails dragging lightly across her chest. “we’re still in the car…”

she laughs softly, the sound rich and low as her lips brush over yours, pulling you closer still. “i know,” she murmurs, her voice thick with desire. “but we’re already here, and you’ve been driving me wild all night. i want you, so bad, babe.”

a beat passes, the tension building between you two. you glance at her, debating whether you really wanted to do this outside, but the temptation is too strong, and you can’t resist any longer.

“fuck it,” you say with a smirk, pulling away slightly. “get in the back.”

you climb off her and crawl into the back seat, billie following you, her movements fluid, eager. she climbs on top of you as soon as she’s in, her lips crashing against yours with a renewed hunger, a fire that’s impossible to put out now. the world outside doesn’t matter anymore—only this, only her, and only the eternal burning need that’s been building between you two since the moment you met.

“you look so pretty laid out for me,” billie murmurs, her voice thick with desire as she leans back in to catch your lips in a searing kiss.

the movements are slow at first, deliberate, like neither of you want to rush, to break the fragile moment. but the tension is undeniable, building with every touch, every kiss, every whispered breath shared between you two.

she’s intoxicating, her lips leaving fiery trails along your neck, her hands roaming over every inch of skin they can reach. each caress feels like it burns, leaving you desperate for more. and you… you’re lost in it, every brush of her fingertips sending jolts of electricity through your veins, something wild and uncontainable awakening inside you.

the heat of the car presses in on you, the soft hum of the radio playing a low, almost forgotten tune, the scent of billie’s perfume mingling with the natural, heady mix of your bodies—it all swirls together into a dizzying, intoxicating fog, until all you can focus on is the way her body fits so perfectly against yours, the way she makes you feel like you’re being consumed, like you’re everything to her in this moment.

her fingers trail up your sides, grazing the sensitive skin of your breasts, and you shiver under her touch, your body aching to get closer, to feel all of her pressed up against you. the heat in your chest swells, that ache becoming almost unbearable.

you can’t take it anymore. your hands find the fabric of her shirt, fingers tugging at it, desperate to get it off, to feel her skin against yours. but billie’s already one step ahead, her hands slipping beneath the fabric of your dress, her fingers finding their way to the waistband of your underwear. the feeling of her pressing against your skin has you gasping, your hips bucking instinctively, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you.

“billie,” you breathe, eyes locked on hers, your voice trembling with need.

she looks down at you, eyes dark with hunger, her lips curling into a grin. “gonna make you feel so good, mama,” she promises, her voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine.

you nod without hesitation, your breath catching in your throat as your heart races in time with the pulse between you.

with that, billie’s hands slide up to your shoulders, pushing the straps of your dress down, revealing the soft skin of your breasts beneath. she kisses her way down your neck again, her lips moving with purpose, each kiss leaving a trail of heat in its wake. you gasp, unable to focus on anything but the way her mouth worships your skin, the way she makes you feel like you’re the center of her universe.

you can barely keep up, barely focus as her hands move expertly, slipping the dress further down your body, inch by inch, until it pools at your waist. billie pauses for a beat, her hands resting on your bare thighs, and she looks up at you with a grin that sets your pulse racing, her eyes dark with anticipation.

“god, you’re perfect,” she breathes, her voice raw, full of desire as she continues to trace soft patterns on your skin.

you bite your lip, a mix of excitement and need building inside you, ready for whatever she’s about to do next.

before you can respond, billie’s lips are back on yours, kissing you with a hunger that feels almost desperate, as if she can’t get enough of you. her hands roam over your body, caressing every inch of exposed skin, making you shiver with the intensity of her touch, the contrast between the warmth of her skin and the coolness of the car’s air intensifying the need coursing through you.

billie’s fingers trail slow, lazy circles over your thighs, her touch featherlight, teasing, like she’s savoring every second. the dress is bunched around your waist now, exposing more of you to the cool air, but the warmth of her hands keeps you grounded, keeps you tethered to the moment. you shiver beneath her touch, anticipation humming in every inch of your skin, every nerve ending on fire, alive with the promise of what’s to come.

your hands move quickly, eager, tugging at the last of her clothes. you want to feel all of her, need her as much as she needs you. as soon as her shirt is off, her skin exposed to you, she slides her hands to the band of your underwear, her fingers tracing the wine-colored elastic before she moves lower, teasing your pussy through the fabric, sending waves of heat rushing through you.

her touch is maddening, and it elicits a gasp from you, your hips rising instinctively as you try to rub against her fingers, desperate for more.

“billie, please,” you breathe, voice strained with need, the word a plea, a quiet demand for more, for her to finally give you what you’ve been aching for.

she leans back slightly, her eyes flickering over you with a predatory gleam, lips curling into that smug, knowing smirk she wears whenever she knows she has you exactly where she wants you. her hands slide lower, fingers tracing the outline of your panties, grazing over the fabric that clings to your skin, but she doesn’t push any further—just lets her knuckles skim over you, her touch barely there, a slow, teasing build that has you aching with need.

you whine softly, shifting against her lap, trying to press closer, but billie tightens her grip just enough to hold you in place. “patience, baby,” she murmurs, voice low and dripping with amusement, each word a promise that makes your chest tighten. “i’m taking my time with you.”

her lips find your inner thigh, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the sensitive skin. the warmth of her mouth sends a shiver through you, a tremor that runs deep, and you exhale shakily, fingers gripping her shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of her shirt. billie hums at your reaction, pleased, and kisses you again—this time, her lips linger, her tongue flicking out ever so slightly against your skin.

you let out a soft gasp, tilting your head back against the cool leather seat, trying to hold onto some semblance of control. “baby…” you breathe, the word thick with the need she’s ignited in you.

“hm?” she muses, feigning innocence, before pressing another kiss a little higher, her thumb brushing teasingly over your panties. the wet patch grows beneath her touch, your breath hitching with the frustration of wanting her to go further, her fingers never quite where you need them. her teasing is maddening, and it’s almost too much, yet somehow, it makes you crave her more.

she continues like this, slow and deliberate, working her way up your skin with open-mouthed kisses, sucking gently at certain spots, her teeth grazing over the tender flesh just enough to make your breath catch. each movement is calculated, like she’s drawing you into a pattern of her design. when she pulls back to admire her work, a dark mark blooms against your warm skin, and you realize she’s left her mark on you—not just physically, but mentally, too.

a pleased hum vibrates against your thigh as she starts again, her lips mapping out a pattern you can’t quite understand yet. your body twitches under her touch, a restless energy coursing through you, your legs instinctively trying to press together, but she huffs a laugh and nudges them apart again with ease, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as she does.

“don’t be shy now,” she teases, her breath hot against your skin, fingers inching closer to where you need her most. “you were just begging for my fingers a second ago.”

you shoot her a glare, but it melts into a shuddering sigh when she presses another firm kiss against the inside of your thigh, sucking just enough to make the sensation linger, leaving a burning heat in its wake.

she’s careful with it—meticulous, almost—as if she’s an artist, and you’re her canvas. every kiss, every mark she leaves, is deliberate, calculated. you barely notice at first, lost in the sensation of her lips on your skin, each touch pulling you deeper into a haze of want, but then she pulls back slightly, running her fingers over the fresh bruises she’s left with a satisfied smirk, her eyes dark with desire.

“there,” she murmurs, her voice low and breathy, eyes flicking up to meet yours, a quiet challenge in her gaze. “a little love note, just for you.”

your chest still rises and falls in uneven breaths, and your stomach flips at the sight—small, darkened spots forming an unmistakable shape. a heart. billie had kissed a heart into your thigh, the skin bruised with passion, marked by her deliberate touch. you can almost feel the heat of her lips lingering there, the soft press of her mouth still tangible against your skin.

your heart stutters in your chest as you look at her, something warm and fond flickering beneath the haze of desire that clouds your mind. it’s impossible to ignore the way she makes you feel—alive, adored, cherished. she grins up at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief, her thumb brushing lazily over the top of your underwear, still teasing but softer now, gentler, almost playful in the way she traces patterns over you.

“you like it?” she asks, her voice dripping with a knowingness that only adds to the fire in your veins.

you bite your lip, your hand coming up to run through her soft hair, the strands slipping through your fingers like silk. “yeah,” you murmur, your voice hoarse with the weight of your feelings. “you’re ridiculous.”

billie laughs, the sound light and melodic, but there’s a tenderness to it, an affection that tugs at something deep inside you. she presses a final kiss to the center of the heart she’s left on your thigh, her lips soft but lingering, marking you with something that feels like ownership, like love. “only for you, baby,” she says, her words a promise, a whisper just for you.

she pulls herself back up, lips brushing against yours, and you kiss her slow, deep—tasting her like you need her to breathe. your hands tangle in the fabric of her shirt, pulling her closer as the kiss deepens, as you lose yourself in the warmth of her body against yours. the heat of her touch, the press of her chest against yours, is enough to make your head spin, but it’s the lingering sting of her love bites against your skin that keeps you grounded, reminding you of the way she worships you—takes her time with you—tenderly, patiently.

her fingers trace the edge of your underwear, teasing at the waistband before slipping underneath, slowly peeling the fabric down your thighs. the pace is maddeningly slow, deliberate, as if she’s savoring every second of it. you inhale sharply as the cool air grazes your skin, the shift of temperature making every nerve stand on edge.

a soft smile curls on billie’s lips as her gaze flickers up at you, dark and heavy with desire, before her middle finger traces the line of your slit, gathering the slickness of your arousal.

“mm, you’re so wet, baby,” she murmurs, her voice thick, resting her head against your thigh as she watches you squirm beneath her touch, delighting in your reaction.

you moan softly, hips instinctively lifting, desperate for more. “billie, please… just… fuck,” you whine, your body aching with need. your hand slides down to grasp hers, trying to guide it, but she gently moves your hand away, a teasing glint in her eyes as she watches your frustration grow.

“stop it, just tell me what you want from me mama.” she continues her lazy strokes on your slit as she speaks, her knuckles occasionally brushing against your clit.

“i want your mouth, billie come on, please..”

“see that’s all you had to do. just had to be nice and patient.” she plants another kiss to your inner thigh before removing her fingers from your core. wrapping her slick covered fingers around your thighs, the coldness of her rings contrasting against the warmth of your skin, while moving her face down to where you craved for her the most.

she plants a kiss on your mound right above your clit before moving lower, each smooch slower than the last. her lips move against your flesh in open mouthed kisses, sending fluttering butterflies all throughout your body, before stoping at your dripping hole. darting her tongue out, she licks from there all the way back up to your clit, moaning at the sheer taste of you.

you gasp as her lips press against your cunt, a shiver running through your body. your hands instinctively find their way to her hair, fingers curling around soft strands as she kisses you with slow, deliberate movements. her touch is tender yet full of intent, each kiss a promise of more, but also savoring the moment.

her fingers gently trace the curves of your thighs, the warmth of her hands sending waves of anticipation through you. she takes her time, exploring you with a patience that only intensifies the longing building inside you. every kiss, every gentle press of her lips, feels like it’s drawing you closer to something almost ethereal, the world around you fading as you lose yourself in the sensation.

you feel the weight of her affection in every movement, in every deliberate, lingering touch. the softness of her lips contrasts with the fierceness of the emotions she evokes within you. you cover your face, overwhelmed by the way she’s making you feel—utterly cherished, completely in tune with each other. her presence surrounding you.

“uht-uht,” she murmurs, pulling back slightly, her breath hot against you. she places your arm gently back at your side, her eyes locking with yours. “i need to see you, my love.”

you nod, unable to speak, lost in the intensity of the moment. billie leans forward, her lips leaving soft, lingering kisses against your stomach, each one sending a shiver through you. her gaze is steady, her eyes dark with intent, as she watches you closely.

with a delicate touch, she traces the line of your slit, her fingers grazing over your clit, sending waves of warmth and desire in their wake. her movements are slow, almost reverent, while she slides her tongue in your soaked cunt, as if she’s savoring every inch of you. each kiss, each touch, each caress, makes you feel as though time has stopped, and it’s just the two of you, locked in this tender, intimate connection.

you can’t help but moan softly as she continues, your body responding to the feeling of her tongue filling up your spongy walls, every nerve awake and alive. your breath comes in shallow gasps, and your legs clench shut around her head as you arch into her touch instinctively. billie moves her fingers from around your thigh and over to your stomach, pressing down against the pressure that’s built up in your tummy and that’s enough to make you snap. her lips curling up into a soft smile as she watches you unravel beneath her, her hands gently massaging your thighs, grounding you.

when she pulls away, you lean up slightly, watching her, your eyes searching for her every movement. you can feel the lingering warmth of her touch, and the space between you seems to throb with a quiet intensity, each second stretching longer, pulling you deeper into the moment.

leaning on your elbows, you study billie, captivated by the way she savors every drop of you, her movements slow and deliberate. she’s taking her time, and you can’t help but marvel at the tenderness with which she handles you, as if she’s savoring a rare treasure. her fingers graze your thighs, soothing you in the aftermath, the cool air brushing over your skin contrasting with the warmth of her touch.

“you’ve got a little something on your face,” you murmur teasingly, your voice soft and still shaky from the intensity that’s passed between you. your chest rises and falls in rhythm, trying to catch its breath, the air thick with the memory of her.

billie’s eyes twinkle with a playful glint, her lips curling into a smile that promises more. “oh, do i?” she replies, voice smooth, teasing. the faint traces of you on her skin glimmer softly beneath the streetlights, each speck a reminder of the connection that’s left its mark on both of you. she leans in, her breath warm against your lips, and plants a kiss that’s gentle at first, but deepens as her tongue dances with yours, lingering just long enough for you to feel the passion she still holds for you, every movement deliberate and drawn out.

breaking away with a soft sigh, you reach down, fingers brushing the cool floor as you retrieve her torn black shirt. the fabric still holds the heat of the night, the memory of everything you just shared, and with a playful smile, you bring it to her face, wiping away the traces of your cum off her chin. billie’s laughter bubbles up, soft and content, mingling with the quiet hum of the night air. she nestles into your chest, her head resting against you as her fingers lazily trace patterns along your hip. each touch is soothing, almost reverent, as though she wants to savor every moment, every last bit of you.

“you always get me so messy,” she murmurs with a teasing smile, her lips brushing your skin as she speaks. you can feel the warmth of her breath, the sweet weight of her words hanging between you two. her fingers continue their gentle path, her touch warm against your bare skin.

“well, you’re not exactly innocent in all this, billie,” you reply with a smile, still catching your breath. the air between you is thick with affection, soft and gentle, the aftermath of everything you’ve shared unfolding around you in the stillness. the quiet of the night feels like a cocoon, wrapping you both in a peaceful, contented embrace.

billie grins at you, her gaze catching the dim light of the room. “true,” she says, her voice playful yet soft. “but now i have to clean it up.”

you laugh, the sound light and carefree, the weight of the moment easing into something warm and familiar. the two of you begin to gather your clothes, the movement slow and deliberate, as if the night didn’t have to end. the warmth between you both lingers even as you pull your jackets on, the fabric settling over your shoulders like a soft blanket.

the quiet hum of the world outside seems too peaceful, too perfect, as you both step out of the car, your hands intertwining as you walk toward the front door of your home.

the house is dark and quiet when you enter, the warmth inside wrapping around you both as you kick off your shoes, your jackets still draped over your arms. the night feels like it’s been stretched out in the best way, the both of you in sync as you move through the space.

you both pause in the hallway, your eyes meeting for a brief moment that holds more than just a glance. a slow, lingering kiss follows—gentle, soft, yet carrying the weight of everything you’ve shared tonight.

“happy valentine’s day,” billie whispers against your lips, her voice tender as she pulls away just enough to look at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

you smile back, warmth flooding your chest, knowing that this night, this moment, was exactly what you both needed. “yeah. happy valentine’s day indeed. it’s been nothing short of perfect,” you whisper, your arms wrapping around her as you hold her close.

and with that, the night continues on, the soft hum of the house surrounding you both as you settle into the quiet comfort of each other’s company. the world may continue outside, but in this space, with billie in your arms, you know that no moment could be more perfect than this one.

astrc’s tag list: @zendayasredbottoms @bilsdillldough @billiesrighthand @watercolorskyy @bilssturns @47lake @vijaxx @natbelovasblog @hopingforgoodblogs @thefeverburningalive @st0nerlesb0 @blohshlover11 ; hit my asks saying “add to taglist” if you want to be on my regular taglist for all billie content

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish gf #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish x female reader #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish x you #billie eilish smut #billie eilish x black girl #billie eilish x black reader #billie eilish x y/n

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blairxbear · 3 days ago

Text

When they realise they are in love with you.

MHA Class 1A Head cannons

Izuku Midoriya

• He doesn’t realize it at first—it hits him like a train when someone else points it out.

• You’re patching up his wounds after a battle, scolding him like usual, and he just stares at you.

• “They care about me so much… I don’t ever want to lose them.”

• That’s when it clicks—his face turns beet red, and he literally short-circuits trying to process it.

• He starts writing about you in his notebooks, not just as a hero, but as his hero.

• Tries to confess a dozen times but ends up stammering and running away.

Katsuki Bakugo

• He freaking hates it when he realizes he’s in love.

• He notices he gets jealous when you talk to others too casually.

• He starts training even harder because he wants to be stronger for you.

• The moment it fully hits him? You defend him from someone bad-mouthing him, and his chest tightens.

• “Shit… I don’t just like them. I love them.”

• He won’t say it out loud but becomes insanely protective overnight.

• If someone flirts with you, he glares daggers and pulls you closer.

• His confession is awkward but genuine—probably blurts out “I love you, okay?! Now deal with it!”

Shoto Todoroki

• Love isn’t something he understands right away—it’s foreign but comforting.

• He notices he trusts you more than anyone else and actually wants to be around you.

• One day, you brush a strand of hair from his face, and his heart skips a beat.

• “Why does my chest feel warm? Is this…?”

• He spends weeks thinking about what this feeling means.

• His father’s influence made him fear attachment, but with you, he feels safe.

• He realizes he loves you when he catches himself smiling for no reason just because you exist.

• When he confesses, it’s simple but deeply meaningful—“I think I love you. No, I know I do.”

Eijiro Kirishima

• He’s the type to fall fast and hard, but he won’t admit it until it hits him like an explosion.

• You do something small but meaningful, like fixing his hair or remembering his favorite drink, and suddenly, he’s melting.

• His brain just goes: “Oh no. Oh NO. I LOVE THEM.”

• The moment he realizes it, he becomes the most obvious person alive—grinning like an idiot, blushing when you compliment him.

• Denki figures it out first and teases him relentlessly.

• He confesses spontaneously—probably during training or when you’re just hanging out.

• “Hey… I, uh, love you. Like, really love you.”

Denki Kaminari

• He thinks he’s just crushing on you, but one night, you laugh at one of his dumb jokes, and his heart flips.

• “Wait… why do I want to make them laugh forever?”

• He starts noticing the little things—the way your eyes sparkle, the way you say his name.

• Suddenly, every love song reminds him of you.

• He realizes he loves you when you comfort him after a bad day, holding his hand without judgment.

• He panics—freaks out and tells Sero before he even tells you.

• Ends up blurting it out without thinking—probably during a sparring session.

• “Oh, shit—did I just say that out loud? …Well, I meant it.”

Henta Sero

• Realizes it slowly but surely—love creeps up on him like his tape until it’s wrapped around his heart.

• It happens during a casual hangout, maybe when you’re laughing at one of his dumb jokes.

• “Damn, I’d do anything to hear that laugh every day.”

• His friends notice before he does because he starts bringing you up in every conversation.

• “Oh, Y/N likes that movie too!” “Y/N would totally win this game.”

• When he realizes, he’s cool about it but lowkey dying inside.

• He confesses casually but sweetly, probably while sharing a snack.

• “So… I’m kinda in love with you. Thought you should know.”

Fumikage Tokoyami

• He doesn’t see it as love at first—he calls it “a deep admiration”.

• Dark Shadow calls him out first: “Dude, you’re OBSESSED.”

• He realizes he loves you when he misses you more than he should.

• The thought of you being hurt makes his blood run cold—he becomes fiercely protective.

• He confesses in a poetic and dramatic way—probably quotes some gothic literature.

• “My heart, once shrouded in darkness, now finds solace in you.”

• He’s nervous about whether you’ll accept him, but when you do, he’s deeply devoted.

Tenya Iida

• Love is logical to him, so he doesn’t understand why his brain short-circuits around you.

• Realizes it when he starts worrying about you more than necessary.

• “Are they drinking enough water? Did they eat today? Should I check on them?”

• The real moment? You tell him to relax, placing a hand on his arm, and suddenly, his heart is racing.

• He denies it at first—tries to rationalize it.

• But one day, you cheer for him in a match, and it clicks—he wants you by his side forever.

• His confession is formal but flustered—“I have come to the realization that I love you. I hope you will accept my feelings.”

Mashirao Ojiro

• He falls first but doesn’t say anything—he’s the quiet type about his feelings.

• The moment he realizes? Sparring with you, when you pin him down and smirk.

• “Oh, I’m completely in love with them.”

• He acts normal but becomes a little more protective, a little more soft-spoken around you.

• His tail wags when you’re near, and he hates that everyone notices.

• He confesses simply but sincerely—probably under the stars or after training.

• “I love you. I don’t need anything back, I just wanted you to know.”

Mezo Shoji

• Realizes it when he starts looking forward to your voice every day.

• He’s always been reserved, but you make him feel safe.

• The moment he knows? You tell him he’s beautiful, and he nearly chokes on air.

• “They… they actually see me.”

• His confession is quiet but meaningful—probably late at night when you’re alone.

• “You’re the only one who makes me feel like this. I think… no, I know I love you.”

Rikido Sato

• He realizes he’s in love while baking—he catches himself making extra portions just for you, even when you’re not around.

• One day, you sneak into the kitchen to help, and he watches you struggle with frosting a cupcake.

• Instead of laughing, he just smiles fondly and thinks, “I want to do this with them forever.”

• The moment it really clicks is when you try his baking and get so excited, giving him the biggest grin.

• His heart pounds, and suddenly, the sweetest thing in the room isn’t the cake.

• Becomes super flustered around you after that, fumbling with ingredients and spacing out.

• His confession is adorably shy, probably over a homemade dessert.

• “I, uh… I made this for you. And also, I think I love you.”

Koji Koda

• He falls slowly but deeply, and it takes a while for him to understand his feelings.

• He realizes it when he notices the way animals react to you—his rabbits love you, birds always fly near, and even skittish animals trust you.

• One day, you rescue a tiny injured bird, and as he watches you care for it so gently, his heart swells.

• “They’re so kind… I never want to leave their side.”

• The next time you smile at him, his whole face turns red, and he gets so nervous he forgets how to talk.

• Starts getting extra shy around you, but his actions speak louder—always carrying things for you, making sure you’re safe, sitting near you quietly.

• His confession is soft but heartfelt, maybe while watching the sunset with you.

• “I… I think I love you. You make my world so much brighter.”

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kiszjuli · 3 days ago

Text

・── completely .ᐟ (J.JH)

(재현) ; fem!reader x jeong jaehyun

──in which jaehyun is patient and loves you completely.

genre. fluff, little angst. romance. ; tags. loving!jaehyun x hardtolove!reader. jaehyun sweetest boy. words of affirmation. jaehyun basically reassuring reader he’s not going anywhere.; w.c. 1.6k

the room was dimly lit, the soft hum of your record player filling the quiet space between you. jaehyun sits across from you on the floor, his back against the couch, one arm resting on his knee as he watches you with that unreadable expression—the one that makes your heart beat a little faster every time.

“what?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

his lips curve into a lazy smile. “your favorite love song,” he pipes, tilting his head. “tell me.”

you hesitate, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. “why?”

he leans forward, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. his fingers linger just long enough to make your breath catch. “cause i wanna sing it with you.”

your heart stutters even more if it was even possible.

you swallow, pretending to think, but the truth is, you already know the answer. it’s the song you play when you’re alone, when you let yourself get lost in daydreams you won’t admit out loud.

you say the title, barely audible, and jaehyun grins like he just won a game you didn’t know you were playing.

he grabs his phone, scrolling until the melody begins to play, then shifts closer, close enough that your shoulders touch.

“sing with me,” he murmurs.

baby, tell me your favorite love song i wanna sing it with you

jaehyun’s fingers trace slow, absentminded patterns along your arm as you lie beside him, the room bathed in soft, golden light. neither of you speak for a moment, just breathing in the quiet, the warmth of each other’s presence.

then, his voice comes, low and gentle. “tell me something you’ve never told anyone.”

you swallow, turning to face him. “why?”

he shifts, propping himself up on one elbow, his gaze steady. “because i want to know you,” he says simply. “all of you. not just the easy parts.”

your chest tightens.

it’s one thing to show someone the pieces of yourself that are whole—the smiles, the laughter, the carefully put-together parts. but this? the things you’d rather leave hidden? that’s different.

still, jaehyun waits, patient as ever, like he has all the time in the world.

so you take a breath, hesitating before you speak. you tell him about the things you don’t say out loud—the fears, the insecurities, the past that still lingers in the corners of your mind. your voice wavers, but he doesn’t look away, doesn’t let go of your hand.

when you finally stop, the silence stretches between you, and for a second, you wonder if you’ve said too much.

but then jaehyun exhales, his grip tightening around your fingers. “thank you,” he murmurs. “for trusting me with that.”

you blink. “now you can’t leave, because you know.” you half-tease. but he stays serious in his response.

he gives you a small, knowing smile before pressing his forehead to yours. “never.”

take it right from the start tell me who you are every piece of your heart every bruise and scar

it was a quiet night, as you lay curled up against jaehyun. his arm is warm around you, his chest steady beneath your cheek, and for once, your mind isn’t racing—just slowing, settling into the comfort of him.

until he speaks.

“you’re thinking too much.”

you huff, tilting your head up to look at him. “maybe i just enjoy using my brain.”

he grins. “dangerous habit.”

you flick his arm, earning a low chuckle, but the moment lingers.

“what were you actually thinking about?” he asks, quieter now.

you hesitate, fingers mindlessly tracing the fabric of his shirt. “just… wondering how we got here.”

jaehyun hums, nodding like he’s deep in thought. “well, first, you annoyed me. then, you continued to annoy me. and somewhere along the way, i decided i liked it.”

you scoff, pushing at his chest, but he catches your hand before you can pull away. his fingers curl around yours, grounding, steady.

“hey,” he says, more serious now, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “i know what you mean. but this isn’t some dream or lucky accident.” his gaze holds yours, unwavering. “it’s real. and i’m gonna prove it to you—every second, every day.”

your heart stumbles, warmth creeping up your neck.

you try to play it off, rolling your eyes. “that’s a lot of pressure, don’t you think?”

jaehyun smirks, leaning in, his voice a teasing murmur against your skin. “nah. i’m pretty good at it.”

when he kisses your temple, pulling you even closer, you choose to trust him.

every second from now i’m gonna love completely

jaehyun doesn’t say anything at first. he just watches you, eyes soft but unreadable, as you sit curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees.

you’ve been quiet and distant all night.

he doesn’t push. doesn’t demand an explanation. but when you exhale a little too sharply, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes, he shifts closer.

“let me in,” he murmurs.

you shake your head. “it’s not that easy.”

his hand finds yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “it doesn’t have to be.”

your throat tightens. you don’t want to weigh him down, don’t want to dump all of this—the exhaustion, the stress, the things you don’t know how to fix—onto him. they weren’t his problems, and you didn’t want them to be

but jaehyun just squeezes your hand, like he already knows what you’re thinking.

“you don’t have to carry it alone,” he says, voice low, certain. “whatever it is. however heavy it feels.”

you swallow. “i don’t want you to feel like you have to—”

“i want to,” he interrupts, his grip firm but gentle. “i don’t care how heavy it is. i’ll carry it too.”

the words settle into your chest, something cracking open just enough to let him in.

don’t care how heavy the hurt is i wanna carry it too

good times

laughter spills between you as jaehyun wraps his arms around your waist in the kitchen, the scent of something slightly burnt lingering in the air. the dinner you attempted to cook together had ended in disaster, but neither of you cared. not when your arms found their way around his neck, not when his deep chuckle vibrated against your skin as he pulled you closer.

“this is your fault,” you tease, a smile spreading across your face.

he grins, leaning down until his nose brushes yours. “pretty sure you were the one who set off the smoke alarm.”

you swat at his chest, but he only catches your wrist, pressing a featherlight kiss to your knuckles. “good times, huh?” he murmurs, his voice warm, easy.

you nod, heart swelling. “the best.”

bad times.

the door clicks shut behind you, but the silence lingers, heavy and suffocating. you sit on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around yourself as if that’ll hold you together. jaehyun kneels in front of you, his hands reaching, hesitant, before resting gently on your knees.

“talk to me,” he says softly, looking up at you.

your throat tightens. “i don’t know what to say.”

he doesn’t push. doesn’t rush. just stays there, his presence steady, unwavering.

“you don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs. “but don’t shut me out.”

your eyes sting, the weight of everything pressing against your chest. he squeezes your thighs gently, grounding you.

“i’m here,” he continues, voice steady, sure. “for all of it. the good, the bad, the days that don’t make sense. you don’t have to go through it alone.”

your breath stutters.

“i love you.” he says softly.

he means it. he always does.

through good times, bad times, red lights, stop signs the one thing you should know is my love will always ring true, ooh.

you finish speaking, the words hanging in the air between you like a quiet confession. the vulnerability feels raw, but with jaehyun, it’s almost like it was meant to be shared—like he’s always been waiting for you to let go of the weight you’ve been carrying around.

the silence stretches on for a moment, but it’s not uncomfortable. jaehyun doesn’t rush to fill it. instead, he takes a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours, as though he’s carefully absorbing everything you’ve said.

when he speaks again, his voice is softer, but it carries a weight of its own. “you know, i’ve been waiting for you to say that,” he says, his words almost a whisper, like a secret shared between the two of you.

you blink, surprised. “what do you mean?”

jaehyun reaches across the table, his fingers brushing yours for a moment before he gently takes your hand in his. his touch is warm, grounding. “i’ve been waiting for you to trust me enough to share it all,” he says, his voice steady. “and i know it’s not easy for you to open up, but i’m not going anywhere.”

you can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest at the sincerity in his eyes. he’s not just saying the words. he’s showing you that he means it.

he leans in a little closer, his other hand coming up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch tender. “i love you. now, tomorrow, a year from now…always. ,” he says, his voice low and filled with meaning, like a vow.

the words sink in, and for a moment, everything else falls away. there’s no more hesitation, no more second-guessing. it’s just you and him, and a love that feels both new and inevitable all at once.

you let out a soft breath, your heart racing, and you finally allow yourself to believe him. you squeeze his hand, your eyes locked with his. this—what he’s offering, what you’re beginning to feel is something real. something you’re ready to embrace completely.

and in that moment, you know, without a doubt, that this is just the beginning.

every second from now i’m gonna love you completely.

—

🎧— completely - jaehyun

( jaehyun birthday boy post ! )

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atlabeth · 3 days ago

Text

something about her

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you’re reminded why you’re really here while spencer does some unwanted self reflection.

a/n: things have been a little too fun and fluffy around these parts so i had to fix it. it’s easy to forget you’re still dealing w a stalker when you’re busy living in denial <3 enjoy the mess! this whole thing is in spencer's pov bc this all got soooo far away from me

title from the song by stephen sanchez

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): things start to ramp up! stalking, anxiety, lowkey panic attacks, angst, hurt/comfort, r almost has a panic attack, alcohol/mentions of alcoholism, the usual. but more bonding!!

Spencer can’t sleep.

He’s tried every trick in the book. Counting sheep, counting to one hundred, counting to one hundred backwards, going through the alphabet, going through the alphabet backwards, methods with actual scientific research backing them—none of it works. He’s stared at the ceiling for most of the night.

He feels like a hypocrite most of all, preaching the importance of adequate sleep when he’ll be lucky to get five hours. But it looks like you barely sleep as is. He probably should keep preaching to you.

There’s a myriad of reasons to explain it. His hyperactive brain has been responsible for many restless nights. He’s still in unfamiliar territory, and he hasn’t gotten used to sleeping on this bed yet. Lest he forget, he’s your first and only line of protection here from your stalker. That’s enough to keep anyone awake, even FBI.

But then there’s also… you in general.

Spencer can’t say he tries not to think about you, because this past week it’s felt like the only thing he’s thought about.

It’s practically impossible, even before you were shoved into this house together. You have a way of tunneling your way into a person’s mind and refusing to leave—especially his.

Again, it’s easy enough to pass off. You’re the only ones here, and the time you’re not spending alone you’re spending with each other. Your only choice beyond isolation is to talk to Spencer, and it seems you’re slowly moving past preferring it over him.

But he doesn’t think he can just pass this off.

He can’t get your smile out of his head. Your moments of levity are so few and far between that it makes them shine bright as the sun. Spencer has learned he loves how you look when you’re happy. He just wishes it wasn’t such a rarity.

Gideon’s lecture rings in his ears. He really had two jobs—keep you safe, and don’t fall for you. Hopefully he only fails the one.

It’s not like he has to worry about it, though. You might not hate him as much anymore, but you still don’t really like him. As much as it bums him out, it’s for the best. It means that in a week or two, when the team has caught the unsub and all this is over, you can both go your separate ways and you’ll never have to see Spencer again.

That bums him out even more, though.

He lets out a long sigh. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. JJ, Elle, now you—Morgan would say he really knew how to pick ‘em. Girls who didn’t like him back.

Just then his phone rings, jolting him out what could have been a convincing play for sleep if not for his thoughts, and he groans a little. Spencer fumbles around for it without lifting his head from the pillow, only turning slightly so he can flick it open and place it against his ear.

“Gideon, why are you calling this early?” he mumbles.

“I hope you’re treating her well.”

The gravelly voice through the speaker is a shock, and Spencer doesn’t really process it. His brain still hasn’t turned on.

“Gideon?” he asks again.

“I know you ran away. Trying to protect her like you have any right.”

His blood goes cold as the words finally register.

This is their unsub. This— this is your stalker.

“What do you want?” he asks, unable to keep the sharp edge out of his words.

“You’ve hurt her the same way he has,” the voice continues. “He’s ruined our lives and you don’t care.”

Spencer’s mind is simultaneously blank and running wild. He knows he should try to profile him or talk to him to get something out of him but— but all he feels is anger.

“What do you want?” he repeats, louder this time.

“Think about your priorities, Agent Reid. I’ll be watching.”

The disconnected tone blares in his ear before he can say anything else, and Spencer stares down at his phone in confused annoyance.

What kind of bullshit game is this guy trying to play with you?

First he stalks you for a month—possibly months— then sends pictures of you to your door, then forces you into hiding and now he’s just mocking you like this?

If Gideon is the goal, this bastard is doing a great job of dragging you along.

Spencer’s heart jumps into his throat all of a sudden. You.

He grabs his gun off his bedside table then lunges to the door with all the athleticism of a newborn baby giraffe, nearly tripping in his haste to get out into the hallway. He slams your door open once he gets to your room, and the relief that floods through his body when you shoot up from your previously sleeping position is almost dangerous.

“Spencer?” you grumble, still completely out of it as you rub your eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You’re alive. You’re okay. You’re still here.

He opens his mouth to respond, still kind of out of breath, when his phone rings again. Spencer takes it out and is already pressing it to his ear.

“What the hell do you want from her?” he barks. The absolute nerve of your stalker to call back—

“Reid, it’s me.”

It’s Gideon’s voice that comes out of the speaker this time, and Spencer feels the wave of red hot rage boiling in his stomach crash against a wall of confusion.

“I—” He swallows deeply, his eyes flicking over to your befuddled expression momentarily before he feels himself flush bright red and look away. “I’m so sorry, sir. I thought you were someone else.”

“You got a call?”

His blood runs cold. “You mean you got one too?”

Gideon curses and he hears him move around. Pacing in his bedroom, if Spencer knew anything about him. “Tell me my daughter is safe.”

“She— she is,” he stammers. “I’m with her right now.”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on?” You’re sitting up now, much more aware than you were fifteen seconds ago. “Why do you have your gun— why are you talking to my dad?”

“Do a perimeter check,” Gideon demands. “If he’s there—”

“I know.” Spencer looks back at you and sighs. “You should talk to her.”

“I know,” Gideon echoes. “Let her stay on the line with me while you figure things out.”

He nods and takes the phone from his ear. “Gideon wants to talk with you.”

You’re standing up now, a dumbfounded expression on your face. “Hold on, you still haven’t answered me! What is going on?”

“I got a call from our guy,” he says. Your eyes widen and he can see your chest still. His heart clenches at the sight. “Gideon did too.”

“What?” you breathe. “Wh— what did he want?”

“To scare you.” Spencer holds up his gun. “Can you hide in the closet while I do a perimeter check?”

You scoff. Your demeanor is still shaken, but the fire is more prominent. He’s started to admire that about you. “Spencer, I am not hiding in the closet.”

“Then lock yourself in the bathroom again!” he exclaims. He doesn’t mean for the outburst, but he can’t help it. “Just— I can’t focus if I’m worried about you, and right now the only thing I can think of is how worried I am about you, so I need to know you’re safe while I do this.”

You stare at him, and Spencer stares right back, if a little frantic. He feels his chest rise and fall from the force, a stark contrast to your still body—similar to the panic he knows is in his eyes to the steely cool of yours.

“I’m not letting you potentially face an insane stalker by yourself,” you finally say.

Spencer huffs. “I am an FBI agent. I’ve faced worse things than insane stalkers.”

“We’ve been together this whole time,” you insist. “We— we can do this together too.”

He looks at you again—he can tell you’re not going to move on this. Spencer eventually sighs and holds the phone back up to his ear.

“I’m assuming you heard that?”

“Let her go with you,” Gideon says. “It’s riskier for her to be on her own than outside with you. But stay on the line, and stay alert. Nothing can happen to her—do you understand?”

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” he says. “I meant what I said.”

“...Good.”

Spencer holds the phone out to you again, and your lip curls.

“I’m not—”

“Come on,” he interrupts, gesturing with his head into the hallway.

Your annoyance melts into acknowledgement when you realize he’s not blowing you off again, and you nod as you take the phone. Spencer wraps both hands around his gun as he starts moving, you matching his pace as you follow him.

“Yeah, Dad,” he hears you say behind him. “I’m here.”

This is what he meant by you needing to stay behind. He’s worried about you more than anything, yes, but he also can’t help but listen. Spencer has very keen ears, to everyone’s simultaneous disdain and appreciation on the team—it makes him a very good asset in the field, but also a very good asset when it comes time for office gossip.

“No, nothing’s happened yet. Yes— yes, I’m okay, I promise. Spencer’s done an annoyingly good job of keeping me safe.”

Once Spencer reaches the door, he peers through the peephole to make sure their unsub isn’t embarrassingly obvious. It’s clear, and he turns to face you and raises a hand, then places his finger on his lips.

“Uh— I have to go dark for a sec,” you say. “We’re checking the perimeter. Don’t worry, I’ll scream if anyone tries to kill me. Be back soon.”

You pull the phone away from your ear and nod at Spencer, and he holds his breath before he opens the door.

The frigid air hits both of you at once, and he hears then sees your sharp exhale of breath. It’s been a while since either of you have been outside, but it’s good to know he hasn’t been missing superb weather.

“Stay close and stay quiet,” Spencer whispers. “I’m your only line of defense out here.”

He expects you to shoot back with some remark, but you merely nod in response. Spencer hopes he hides the shock he feels before he turns away and starts walking.

Dawn isn’t for a few more hours—the only real light source is the moon high in the night sky. It doesn't exactly help his nerves to be doing all this in the dark, but part of him is almost thankful to be doing this. Spencer doesn’t know how to deal with you or any of the emotions you stir inside of him or the sleepless nights you cause because he can’t stop thinking of you—but he knows how to do his job, and he knows how to do it damn well.

He just wishes it didn’t have to come with the unfortunate side effect of you being in immense danger.

But Spencer does his best to push those thoughts to the back of his mind—right now, he has to have one focus.

And he does. The two of you stick close to the side of the house, his eyes darting all over as he tries to dig out any details, any possible sign that the unsub was here. The ground is still a thin layer of mud from the storm last night, so it should be easy to find footprints. Spencer’s Converse aren’t doing a great job at keeping him upright—slipping in front of you is too embarrassing for him to even think about.

All of a sudden, he stops, his arm shooting out in front of you. You don’t realize it for a second and you run into him, your hand wrapping around his arm on instinct to steady yourself. If he wasn’t so shocked at what he was looking at, he would have been bright red over it.

“What the h—”

“Footprints,” he whispers. “Th— they’re almost gone, but—”

“He was here?” you interrupt. Fear spikes in your voice and your grip tightens on his arm.

“Last night, maybe.” Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, how he feels—he’s not going to make you feel worse. “The rain probably washed most of them away.”

“Spencer—”

“I am surprised these are still here, though,” he continues. “The rainfall was really heavy. I wouldn’t expect them to stay in mud like this—”

“Spencer, look where we are!” you exclaim, gesturing hard with your other hand. He realizes that you’ve let go of his arm by now, but he pushes it out of his head and looks.

“The window to your room,” he says. The blinds are closed and the lock is in place—he’s made sure every night—but there are small enough gaps between the shutters.

“He was watching us last night!” Your breathing is starting to come heavier and faster now. “We talked about all that shit and he was just here watching and we didn’t even fucking know!”

You’re on the edge of hyperventilating. Spencer has got to get you down or else you’re going to have a full blown panic attack out here.

“Hey, hey— look at me.” He says your name and that, if anything else, gets you to listen and meet his eyes. They’re filled with an unbridled fear he hasn’t seen in you until now. “Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of this. He’s not here.”

“He was watching us—”

“And we’ll figure out what to do next. But you have to stay calm. You can’t let him win.”

You’re still harried, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your eyes dart all around. Spencer says your name softly, tucks his gun into its holster, then takes your hands in his, hoping that it gives you something to focus that isn’t the rest of this.

“Just look at me,” he says softly.

You suck in another shaky breath, but you’re not as frantic as before. You at least look him in the eye, and you don’t wrench your hands out of his grasp. Progress, if nothing else.

“Breathe with me.”

You nod—still panicked, but better. Spencer breathes in deep and you do the same, following as he counts up and down with his fingers. It takes a few rounds, but eventually, he’s gotten you off the edge.

Spencer says your name again, just as soft as before. You’re still breathing slowly in and out.

“How do you feel?”

“Better,” you murmur. “I—”

You’re interrupted by the phone you both forgot was in your hand, Gideon’s voice muddled as it comes from the receiver. You rip your hands out of Spencer’s as you come back into yourself, shaking your head and blinking a few times while you take a few steps away from him.

“I’m here, Dad,” you say. “We— we’re okay. No, nothing happened.”

Spencer blinks too. He looks down at his hands, then glances at you, then shakes his head. He walks back over to the footprint and crouches down, trying to keep his mind clear. He commits every detail he can to memory, doing his best to ignore the conversation with your dad in the background.

Well, he tunes in a little. He can’t help it—he wants to make sure you’re okay.

“We found a footprint outside my room,” you’re saying. “Spencer thinks it’s your guy. I have no idea. Yes, we are. You don’t have to be so pushy.” You sigh and he feels your gaze on him. “Spencer, we have to finish this up. Dad wants us back inside.”

He clears his throat as he nods a few times. “Let me get a picture of this first.”

You hand him the phone and Spencer snaps some photos from a few different angles, hoping forensics will be able to get anything out of it. He hears Gideon’s voice again and he holds it to his ear once more.

“Gideon?”

“Reid, get her back inside,” he says. “We can’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“We haven’t finished securing the perimeter,” he says.

“Then finish it and get back inside!” he exclaims. “You have proof that he was there—”

“We don’t know it’s him,” Spencer interrupts.

“We know there was somebody there!” Gideon shoots back. “I’m not risking her, and from what I’ve heard, you don’t want to either.”

Spencer feels his cheeks warm as he looks back at you, and he pulls his gun back out of its holster. “Come on. We have to finish this up.”

“That’s what I said,” you mutter, but you follow him without further protest.

The rest of the check goes by quickly without any other distractions or surprises, and soon enough you’re back inside. While Spencer chats with Gideon, updating him in a calmer manner on everything with the phone call and the footprint, you’re ruffling through the cabinets.

Eventually, he sees you pull out a bottle of clear liquid from the corner of his eye. He frowns and realizes that it’s vodka.

“It’s 4:29 in the morning,” Spencer says, cutting off Gideon almost absentmindedly as you pop the bottle open.

“And we found out that this place isn’t nearly as safe as anyone thought,” you respond sharply. “I think that warrants some drinking.”

“That means that you should have a clear mind,” he says. “Alcohol impairs your brain’s communication pathways, as well as your judgment and coordination.”

“I’ve gotten drunk before, genius,” you mutter as you search for a glass. You end up choosing a the mug you used for coffee the other morning then start pouring. “Enough to know it’s what I need right now.”

“It can also cause mood swings,” Spencer says. “I think that’s the last thing you need right now.”

You roll your eyes, not even bothering to look back at him as you finish pouring a concerning amount of liquor into the mug.

“What is going on over there?” Gideon asks. Spencer remembers he’s holding the phone and he puts it back to his ear.

“I think your daughter is an alcoholic,” he comments.

“I’m not an alcoholic,” you say sharply. “I just can’t focus on all this right now.”

“It’s best if she gets some sleep,” Gideon says. “All of this is likely terrifying to her, no matter how hard she tries to hide it.”

Spencer’s mind flashes back to your near panic attack—your wide eyes full of fear and harried breathing that only made you hyperventilate more when you realized you couldn’t control it. It’s too easy to think of you as some untouchable being from the way you interact with him, bothered by nothing and no one.

The mask cracks on rare occasion. It makes you seem frighteningly real.

“You’re right,” Spencer nods. You sip your drink without flinching. He doesn’t think he can even call it a drink if it’s just straight liquor. “We could all use some sleep.”

“Just make sure she’s safe,” he says. “Make sure the whole place is secure. We’re not—”

“Taking risks,” he finishes. “Believe me, I know.”

Gideon is silent for a second, and Spencer takes the time to look at you. The bags under your eyes are even more prominent, and there’s a haunted glint in your eyes as you stare at the wall. You shiver ever so slightly, the outside chill still lingering on your skin. You’ve got pajama pants on but just a plain tee. You didn’t have time to put a sweatshirt on before he pulled you outside in the mania of it all.

You really are beautiful—but you’re so damn tired.

Spencer realizes that all he wants to do is give you some respite.

“I’ll call you back later, then,” Gideon says. “To check in.”

“Okay.” Spencer’s throat bobs as he averts his eyes from you. “Get some rest too, Gideon.”

The other end hangs up without a response. Spencer stares down at the phone for a few seconds then sighs before he tucks it back into his pocket.

“What’d he want?” you ask.

“I can’t believe you’re drinking vodka out of a coffee mug at four in the morning.”

You frown. “You don’t get to judge me.”

“It’s not good for you.”

“None of this is good for me,” you enunciate. “What did my dad want?”

“I’m serious,” Spencer continues. “Drinking on an empty stomach can lead to low blood sugar— drinking at this hour is going to completely disrupt your circadian rhythm.”

“You know what else has disrupted my circadian rhythm?” you ask mockingly. “Being here. Having a stalker. Finding out that said stalker was also here, watching us. I think that’s a little worse for me than the alcohol.”

Spencer stares at you, and as you’re prone to do, you stare back. Eventually, he shakes his head and looks away, deciding to quit while he’s ahead.

“He wants you to get some sleep,” he says. “Wants us both to.”

You scoff and shake your head, downing much more vodka than you should in one go. Again, you don’t flinch—for a schoolteacher, you handle your liquor very well. “Like I’d get to sleep after this.”

“It’s important,” Spencer insists. “You’ve gotten— what? Three hours of sleep?”

“Well, all this excitement has woken me up,” you say.

“Well, I’m tired,” Spencer says. “So I guess I’ll see you in a few hours.”

He starts to walk to his room, figuring that you need time to cool off, when—

“Wait.”

Your voice is oddly strangled, and Spencer stops in his tracks.

“I—” you stop and sigh, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Our rooms are close to each other,” he says. “I’ll be able to hear if you yell.”

You rub your eyes as you let out another haggard sigh. “I can’t stand to be in that room, Spencer. Not knowing that— that he was right there.”

Spencer can’t look away from you. Your eyes glint with tears you’re trying to hold back, but you’re laid bare in a way he knows you hate.

You’re being pushed to your limits against your will, and it kills him that he can’t do anything to help you. Honestly, sometimes he feels useless being stuck here while the rest of the team is out there actively working to help you. All he can do is stand around here and annoy you.

Except you want him there. For the first time since all of this has started, you want him there.

It’s the only thing he can do for you right now. How can he refuse?

“Okay,” he says softly, and he nods. “Okay. We can share my room tonight.”

The tension in your shoulders fades ever so slightly, and you—thankfully—set the mug down. “Keep your gun close.”

“I’m not sure you want me shooting when I’m sleep deprived,” Spencer says.

Your lips twitch just so, and Spencer’s heart skips a beat. He can’t help it.

He should have known he was in too deep the moment he stepped into this house with you.

“Very cozy,” you say.

“It’s the same as your room,” Spencer responds.

You shrug. “It’s messy. Makes it feel like home.”

He feels his face flush. “I haven’t really been focused on keeping things clean.”

“Relax.” You sit down on the bed. “I’m not judging you.”

“Good.” Spencer glances at you as he moves his bag off of your side of the bed. “Because that would be very rude after the generosity I’ve shown you.”

You laugh and Spencer finds himself smiling at the sound of it. He’s glad he’s turned away, and he’s glad he manages to push it away by the time he’s turned back around.

You’re wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants now, and it’s strange to see you look so… soft. Every part of you is so sharp, some of it jagged—sometimes you harden around him, sometimes you mellow. He’s a bit tired of the back and forth.

Maybe that’s what makes him speak up.

“I’m tired of us always being at odds.”

Your eyebrows rise and you look at him. “Really?”

Spencer nods, his will bolstered. “Really. We have a nice talk one night, and I feel like we’ve had a breakthrough, and then you go back to hating me the next morning. I’m— I’m sick of it.”

He expects you to shoot back with some mocking comment like you always do, making fun of him for wanting more than what little you give him. But instead, you lay back against the pillows and shrug.

“Okay.”

He blinks. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod. “I’m too tired to want to fight right now.”

“You’re the one that always tries to fight me.”

“Aren’t you fighting me right now?”

Spencer shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

You chuckle. “Still fighting.”

He stares at you. As usual, you stare back, but this time you can’t fully bite back your smile. For some reason, that gets Spencer to break. He smiles too, and he settles down on the bed next to you. There’s a pillow buffer between you, but it’s still a lot closer than he’s used to.

Well, he did hold your hands earlier, but that’s because he was bringing you down from a panic attack. That doesn’t mean anything.

“What a day,” he mutters.

“And it hasn’t even started yet,” you muse. “I don’t know how you do this kind of shit every day.”

“I’m not really the target of any of this,” he says. “I usually stay behind the scenes. I’m good with geographical profiles, not chasing down unsubs.”

You look over at him. “You haven’t really talked about anything you do for the BAU.”

Spencer shrugs. “I thought it would be a sore subject.”

You pause. “You’re… probably right.”

“I figured.” He chuckles, then glances over at you. “But you already know enough about me. You said you would talk about your job. Teaching, and your kids, and all that.”

Your eyebrows rise. “You actually care?”

Spencer gives you a look. “I thought we were past that part in our friendship.”

“We’re not friends.”

He shrugs. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, but you go on anyway. “I’m a highschool teacher in Fairfax. You know Mount Vernon High?”

Spencer nods. “I know the name of every high school in Virginia.”

“Of course you do,” you huff. “But that’s besides the point. I did my student teacher hours there, and they offered me a full time position. I took it, so I guess I’ve been there since senior year.” You purse your lips. “It’s a little depressing when you look at it like that.”

“Then don’t look at it like that,” he say. “You said you loved your job.”

“I do!” You smile again, a bit lighter this time. “My teachers were a huge part of my life, especially in high school.” The lightness fades some, but he notices how you try to hide it. “If I could help even one kid the same way my teachers helped me, then I would have done something with my life.”

“That’s very noble of you,” Spencer says. “I don’t think I ever would have guessed you were a teacher.”

“Oh, please,” you say. “You’re a profiler. You’d figure it out.”

“You wouldn’t know I work with the FBI at first glance.”

“Well, I’m not a profiler. Besides,” you tip a shoulder, “I have the ulterior motive of wanting to introduce kids to the wonders of physics.”

Spencer’s eyes light up. “You’re a physics teacher?”

“I teach a load of science classes, but I carry the banner for AP physics.” You huff a laugh. “You’re probably the only one that doesn’t sound lame to.”

“I love physics!” he exclaims. “I’ve got a PhD in engineering, remember?”

You smile— no, you actually grin at him, and he can’t believe he finally broke through the barrier with science.

“Trust me, I’d love to talk physics with you, boy genius, but—” you’re interrupted with a yawn, and Spencer resists the urge to do the same— “but I think I’m actually about to fall asleep.”

Spencer shakes his head with a small laugh. He realizes that he’s relaxed while you’ve been talking, limbs looser and fully laying back against the pillows.

“This was actually part of my master plan to get you to rest,” he says. “Talking science always works with the team.”

He sees you smile out of his peripherals as you lay fully down, can feel every shift of your body against the mattress while you try to find a good position.

“It wasn’t you,” you say. “It was the vodka.”

“Of course,” he agrees.

Silence falls over the room as the two of you settle in. You take off your sweatshirt, a slight shiver running through you once you’re back in your tank top. Spencer removes his glasses, and he blinks a few times to adjust to the blurriness.

The bed is big enough for you to both have your own space,, and you’re both careful to keep your backs to each other. The silence is comfortable despite the previous animosity. Maybe all it really did take was for him to start talking science.

Eventually, though—

“Thank you, Spencer.” Your voice is little more than a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like a knife. “I— I know you don’t like me. So it means a lot that you still do all this for me.”

He’s quiet for a moment, taking your words in. The mingled sounds of your breathing are really the only things filling the room, and he can feel your weight against the mattress. It’s all oddly intimate.

“You’re wrong.” He’s almost surprised at the sound of his own voice. “I do like you.”

Your shock shows through the silence. Spencer takes his chance.

“You’re going through something no one should ever have to experience, and you’re doing it with someone you think stole your life from you.” Spencer shifts ever so slightly. His hands feel inexplicably clammy. “It was unfair of me to take Gideon’s side so often.”

“Still.” Your words are muffled as you speak half into the mattress. “We have more important things to worry about. It was unfair of me to spend so much time giving you shit. You— you didn’t even know I existed until a month ago.”

“But now I do.” He pauses. “And I’m glad I do. So you can start looking forward instead of always looking back.”

Again, silence. It lasts so long Spencer wonders if you’ve fallen asleep. Your breathing is thankfully steady (a side of him is always focused on your breathing just to make sure) and you don’t shift much, so he wouldn’t be surprised. You were exhausted—

“Spencer?”

His eyes open. He didn’t even realize they had closed. You sound half-asleep, your voice nothing more than a whisper. He wishes more than anything he knew what was going through your mind right now.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

His heart stutters so blatantly he’s sure you can hear it. Spencer honestly doesn’t know what to say—his mouth is so dry he doesn’t know if he can say anything.

Spencer thought you hated him. You thought Spencer hated you.

It’s ironic.

“Me too,” he eventually manages.

But there’s no response. You must’ve already fallen asleep again, just conscious enough to say a few words. The rude awakening mixed with the fear and alcohol couldn’t have done you much good.

Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat and closes his eyes again, trying not to focus on you. It’s practically impossible.

He’s glad, at least, that you’re able to sleep. You deserve to rest more than anyone.

Eventually, the sound of your breathing lulls Spencer to sleep.

You were the one thing he didn’t have on his list.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #gideon!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #x reader #sadie writes

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sleepyxzn · 2 days ago

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

the road stretched endlessly ahead, a dark ribbon illuminated by the faint glow of headlights. the world outside was still—empty streets, the occasional flickering streetlamp, a gas station left behind miles ago. inside the car, the only sounds were the low hum of the engine and the quiet breath of the night, punctuated by the faint music playing through the speakers.

megumi’s hands rested steady on the wheel, fingers tapping idly against the leather. his eyes, half-lidded but sharp, stayed fixed on the road, the flickering glow of passing lights casting soft shadows across his face. he looked calm, as he always did—stoic, composed, but you knew better. you knew him too well to mistake his silence for detachment.

you shifted in your seat, the warmth of his jacket draped over your shoulders. it smelled like him—faint cologne, a lingering trace of coffee, and something distinctly megumi. he had shrugged it off without a word when he noticed you rubbing your arms earlier. a small thing, but that was how he was—he never spoke his love outright, but it existed in every quiet action, every small habit he had built around you.

the city lights faded in the rearview mirror, giving way to long stretches of open road. out here, it was just the two of you. no distractions, no responsibilities. just the dark expanse of night and the gentle presence of each other.

“you tired?” his voice broke the silence, low and familiar.

you turned to him, watching the way his jaw tightened slightly, like he wasn’t sure if you’d been quiet for too long.

“a little,” you admitted, stretching out your legs. “but i don’t wanna sleep yet.”

megumi made a quiet noise—something between a hum and a sigh. “huh. thought you’d be out by now.”

you smirked. “and miss out on a night drive with you? never.”

his fingers twitched on the wheel, and you caught the way his lips quirked—just barely, almost imperceptibly.

the silence stretched again, comfortable. you watched the way his hands moved, steady and sure, veins faintly visible under the dim dashboard light. there was something about megumi like this—calm, in control, the sharp edges of his usual seriousness softened in the stillness of the night.

the song playing shifted to something softer, quieter. a melody that felt familiar, even if you couldn’t place it. you reached for the volume dial, turning it up just a little, letting the sound fill the space between you.

megumi glanced at you. “you like this one?”

you nodded. “yeah. reminds me of us."

he didn’t say anything at first, just let the song play as he kept driving. but his hand shifted from the gearstick, fingers reaching blindly toward you. an invitation.

you took it without hesitation, letting your fingers slot between his. his grip was warm, firm—rough with old callouses, but gentle when it came to you. he ran his thumb over your knuckles, absentmindedly, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

your chest ached at the tenderness of it.

“you always do that,” you murmured.

“hm?”

“you always touch my hands like this.” you squeezed his fingers, brushing your thumb over his in return. “like you’re memorizing them.”

megumi exhaled, the barest hint of a chuckle escaping him. “maybe i am.”

you turned fully in your seat, watching him. his profile was sharp in the dim light—dark lashes casting shadows over his cheekbones, lips parted slightly in that way he did when he was lost in thought.

“you don’t have to,” you said softly. “i’m not going anywhere.”

he let out a quiet breath, tightening his grip on your hand. “yeah. i know.”

but he still didn’t let go.

₊˚⊹♡

the road stretched on, the sky above dark and endless. somewhere along the way, megumi pulled off onto a smaller road, the kind barely touched by traffic at this hour. the car rolled to a stop on the side of the road, the stillness settling around you like a thick blanket.

you watched him as he shifted into park, resting one elbow against the door, fingers pressed lightly against his temple. he looked over at you, gaze steady.

“you said you weren’t tired,” he murmured.

“i’m not.” you tilted your head. “why’d we stop?”

megumi was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. “felt like it.”

you raised an eyebrow. “you? impulsive?”

he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “shut up.”

you laughed softly, but the weight in his stare didn’t lessen. if anything, it grew heavier, filled with something unreadable. something only he understood.

“c’mere,” he said, voice quieter now.

you didn’t hesitate. unbuckling your seatbelt, you shifted closer, slipping into his side of the car with ease. he welcomed you with an arm around your waist, guiding you effortlessly into his lap. the center console dug slightly into your thigh, but you didn’t care—you were too focused on the way megumi exhaled, slow and deep, like he’d been waiting for this all night.

his hands settled against your hips, firm and grounding. you rested your arms around his neck, pressing your forehead to his.

for a long moment, neither of you spoke. the night wrapped around you both, silent and knowing.

megumi’s fingers traced slow, deliberate circles against your spine. “you really like night drives that much?”

you smiled against his skin. “mm. maybe i just like being alone with you.”

his grip tightened slightly, like your words settled somewhere deep inside him. his voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke.

“yeah,” he murmured. “me too.”

you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your fingers threading through his dark hair. it was softer than it looked, and you loved the way he leaned into your touch without even realizing it.

his breath fanned against your lips, and you could feel the way his heartbeat thrummed beneath your palms—steady, but just a little faster than usual.

“you’re staring,” he muttered.

you grinned. “so?”

his lips twitched, but instead of responding, he leaned in, brushing his mouth against yours in the faintest of touches. it wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate—just slow and deliberate, the kind of kiss that spoke of years spent learning each other.

you sighed into him, your fingers tightening against the back of his neck. he drank in the sound, tilting his head, deepening the kiss in a way that left your stomach fluttering.

it was rare for megumi to let himself indulge like this, to let the weight of his love press against you so openly. but here, in the quiet of the night, with no one else around—he allowed himself to be selfish.

when you finally pulled away, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours again, his fingers ghosting over your jawline, tracing every familiar curve.

“you’re ridiculous,” he muttered.

you laughed softly, brushing your nose against his. “you love me.”

megumi huffed, but the way his hands curled around you—like he was trying to memorize the shape of you—told you everything.

“…yeah,” he admitted. “i do.”

you smiled, pressing one last lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth before whispering,

“then don’t let go.”

and he didn’t.

he never did.

#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fanfic #megumi headcanons #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi fluff #cozycore #cozy vibes #late night thoughts #late night drives

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babsworlds · 2 days ago

Text

NO SURPRISE.

pairing. Sergei Kravinoff x fem! reader

synopsis. the morning after sleepover with your bsf took really unexpected turn.

warning. age gap (reader is like 20, Sergei is in his early 30s), make out, can be part two of Weird, Older & Attractive but can be read as a standalone, inspired by song Cola by Lana Del Rey.

YOU HAD A THING FOR YOUR BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER, Sergei, even though you knew he was off-limits.

Since then, you found yourself practically living in Dmitri’s house. There were two main reasons for that: you loved spending time with your best friend, Dmitri, and you also loved seeing his brother.

Sergei had a way of capturing your attention whenever he was around. His charming smile and confident demeanor made it hard to resist sneaking glances at him. Despite knowing that he was off-limits, you couldn't help but feel something towards him.

The more time you spent at Dmitri’s house, the more opportunities you had to see Sergei. Each encounter, no matter how brief, added fuel to the fire of your hidden feelings. Whether it was catching a glimpse of him in passing or sharing a casual conversation, every interaction left you wanting more.

It was a late summer morning, one you had been eagerly waiting for. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room as you classically woke up in Dmitri’s bed. You stretched out your hand, reaching for your best friend, but to your surprise, he wasn’t there.

“Dima?” you called out with a groggy voice, your eyes still heavy with sleep. Realizing he wasn’t there, you rubbed your eyes and looked around the room, feeling a bit confused. The familiar surroundings brought a sense of comfort, but Dmitri's absence left you wondering where he could be.

Despite your confusion, you managed to get out of bed, feeling the cool floor against your feet. You were wearing a pair of short shorts and a tank top, perfect for the warm summer day ahead. As you glanced at yourself in the mirror, you tried to shake off the lingering sleepiness.

The mansion was quiet, with only the sound of the wooden stairs creaking under your feet as you descended. The morning sun streamed through the windows, blending with the delicious aroma of breakfast wafting through the air.

You made your way to the kitchen, hoping to find Dmitri there. But as you entered, your eyes widened in surprise. Instead of Dmitri, you spotted Sergei.

He stood by the counter, a casual yet confident presence. His back was turned to you as he prepared breakfast, and you couldn't help but watch him for a moment. The way he moved, the ease with which he handled everything—it was captivating.

“Good morning, принцесса (princess),” he greeted you with a charming smile. Your eyes were involuntarily drawn to his abs, visible beneath the snug compression shirt. You tried to remind yourself that he was way older than you and firmly off-limits.

“Good morning,” you replied, returning his smile. “Where’s Dima?” you asked, still curious about your best friend's whereabouts.

“I sent him to the grocery store for some stuff,” Sergei shrugged casually, his relaxed demeanor making you smile.

“You want me to help?” you offered with a smirk, stepping closer.

“You would be kind,” Sergei smiled, stepping aside to make room for you. You took his place by the stove, feeling the warmth of his presence lingering nearby. As you started to stir the mixture, you could feel his eyes fixed on you, watching your every move.

Despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach, you focused on the task at hand, trying to ignore the way your heart raced. The kitchen was filled with the delicious aroma of breakfast, mingling with the quiet tension that hung in the air.

“You are actually pretty good,” Sergei said, leaning against the counter with his muscular arms crossed. His compliment made your heart flutter, but you tried to stay focused on the task at hand.

“Let me just,” he continued, stepping right behind you. The proximity made your breath catch, and you could feel the warmth of his body against yours. He placed his large palm over yours on the pan handle, guiding your movements with a gentle touch.

The sensation of his hand on yours sent a shiver down your spine. His presence was both comforting and exhilarating, making it hard to concentrate on anything else. “Just like that,” he said softly, his voice close to your ear.

You turned your face to him, your lips just inches away, your eyes locked. “What if I just…” you began, your voice barely a whisper. His blue eyes never left yours, drawing you in with their intensity. “Kiss you?” you said softly, the words hanging in the air between you.

His warm breath mingled with yours, creating an electrifying tension. Gently, he reached out and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “I fear you are too young,” he said, his voice soft but serious.

The reality of the situation hit you like a wave. You knew there were boundaries, lines that shouldn’t be crossed, but the feelings you had for Sergei were undeniable. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he wrestled with his own emotions.

He wanted to kiss you so badly—you could feel it in the way his eyes lingered on your lips. Deciding to press on a bit, you looked at him with the most innocent eyes and said, “So?” Your voice was soft, almost teasing. “I got a sweet taste for men who are older.”

“That’s no surprise, love,” he said, his voice low and filled with unspoken desire. The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. Was it wrong? Was it right? It didn’t matter. In that moment, to him and especially to you, it felt right.

Sergei’s gaze intensified, the conflict in his eyes evident. His breath caught for a moment, and you could see him wrestling with his emotions. “You’re making this really hard for me, you know that?” he said, his voice a mix of longing and restraint.

You stepped a little closer, closing the distance between you. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be so hard,” you whispered, your eyes locked onto his.

Sergei remained silent, clearly battling his own inner turmoil. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the way he wrestled with his desires and the reality of the situation.

Impatience and longing bubbled to the surface, and you couldn't hold back any longer. “Will you just stare like a stupid or finally kiss me?” you challenged, your voice soft but demanding, your hands traveling on his chest.

In that moment, Sergei finally didn’t hesitate for even a second. His lips met yours hungrily, the kiss filled with a passion that had been building up for so long. He wrapped his strong arm around your waist, lifting you effortlessly and seating you on the counter.

The kiss deepened, full of raw emotion and desire. His hands held you firmly, as if he never wanted to let go. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, making you feel more alive than ever. It was a moment of pure connection, where nothing else seemed to matter.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, losing yourself in the intensity of the kiss. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect, stolen moment.

“я тебя люблю (I love you),” he groaned between the heated kisses, his words filled with raw emotion and urgency. The intensity of his confession made your heart race even faster, the connection between you deepening with every touch.

You responded with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The world around you disappeared, leaving only the two of you in that heated, passionate moment. Sergei's grip on you tightened, his kisses growing more fervent as he poured all his emotions into that single, powerful declaration.

You could hear someone unlocking the door. “Dima is here, I think,” you whispered, a hint of panic in your voice.

You felt Sergei rolling his eyes before letting go of you. Quickly, you hopped off the counter, hastily fixing your messy hair.

“Hey,” Dmitri appeared around the corner, “What did I miss?” he asked, looking curious.

You choked on your breath for a moment, trying to compose yourself. “Uh, nothing,” you managed to say, rubbing your hand nervously. “Breakfast is ready.”

Dmitri eyed you both suspiciously for a second, then his expression softened as he walked further into the kitchen. “Great! I’m starving,” he said, placing the grocery bags on the counter.

Sergei shot you a reassuring smile, giving you a silent nod as if to say everything was okay. You took a deep breath, grateful for the normalcy Dmitri’s presence brought back into the room.

#aaron taylor johnson #atj #atj x reader #fem reader #ynstories #reader insert #x yn #aaron taylor johnson x reader #sergei kravinoff x you #sergei kravinoff x reader #sergei kravinoff #kraven movie #kraven x you #kraven x reader #dmitri kravinoff #fred hechinger

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leviathansmistress · 3 days ago

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Oceans & Engines

Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Tags/warnings: Angst w/ comfort, break ups, r ghosting Natasha, cheating (?) everything is for you to find out ;)

A/N: Trash writing, I am guilty about rushing this one. Yes, the title is inspired with Niki's song, is the plot inspired with the song too? It's for you to find out ;) hAppy vday *monstrous evil laughs*

You didn't just wrong her, you also neglected her, insulted her, abandoned her and cheated on her. What happens when she tried to tempt you, seduce you and make you regret after everything she thought you had done to her?

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Natasha was on the run from the government but even before that she had already plan to run away in with you. But then, she had a hard time going to the place you and her talked about meeting and living in due to the government's executive order of strict policies going in and out of the country.

She called you, drunk, crying. She was so ready to go, all her stuff was packed already.

"Baby, w-wait for me alright? Wait for me, I'll be there. I'll find a way. Please." She begged, hand on her phone and a bottle of beer on the other. "Please, please, please Y/N. I'll come over, you wait for me there. Please."

She begged, over and over.

"Natasha...just please can you stop?" That was the last time she heard your voice, you telling her to stop—you telling her you met someone else in Belgium.

But she was going to propose to you.

She spiraled when Steve came to pick her up. She almost killed him when he said to let you go, that it won't be good for you if she was with you, a hard real talk he gave his friend that she needed the most.

Now, the blip happened. They're no longer fugitives, no longer on the run. Tony had summoned you to come back for good to the compound, he said he needs some help about something. At first, you didn't agree but you said you'll just help him with whatever he needs helping for but it needs to be done for 8 days, and you'll leave.

"Y/N didn't just wrong me, she neglected me, insulted me, abandoned me and cheated on me." She almost barks at Thor and Rhodey as they listen to her rant.

"I say revenge on her..." Rhodey nodded eagerly.

"I uhh, Banner and I were in a team called the Revenger before." Thor said between bites of his burger.

And that's how her plan started.

You are one of the geneticists together with Dr. Cho. You were called to assist the Avengers with the research and technology in war against HYDRA, and even after HYDRA you continued working for them. That's how you met Natasha.

You were waiting outside the compound when a big bike ran past you, if you weren't able to take a step back on that millisecond you will for sure be dead by now. You frowned and watched as the person behind the helmet revealed itself. There, you saw Natasha again. Her hair was cut short, she's blonde now. The frown turned into a smile. You were happy to see her—happy for her.

"Y/N? Hi."

"Hey..." You greeted back with a warm smile. You didn't see how her jaw clenched and how she gripped her helmet fighting the urge to lash out and throw it away, but she quickly concealed it with a smile which is something she's good at.

"Hey…long time?" There is a bit of sadness and bitterness in her tone but you were too jetlagged to even notice it, besides you were really still in shock to see her after all.

"Long time." You said with a solemn smile.

"If you're going to apologize, it won't matter anymore." Your heart dropped to your stomach with her words, now you wish she just ran you over. "Because I forgave you already." Now, your heart started to float back in place. Natasha let out a few laughs and you let out a nervous chuckle.

You shake your head side by side, biting your lip, "I'm sorry, Natasha. But…but I'm happy for you, seeing you now, wow. You're glowing." You looked at her with a smile and you missed how her jaw slightly tensed. But she masked it with yet another charming smile of hers, she just couldn't wait for what she's planned for you.

"How long have you been waiting here? Let's get inside."

The team welcomed you dearly. You told Tony you don't want a party since he joked about it, but in respect to those who were blipped, you declined. And actually, as much as possible you don't want others to see or even know you're going to visit. After what you did to Natasha you didn't expect others to be welcoming towards you especially Natasha herself. But she seemed to be mature—she has grown so much, well, that's what you thought.

The first night went well, there's a little reunion even though it can't really be called one since not everyone is here. A lot of stories were told here and there and Natasha did nothing but stare at you throughout the night. Your hair is much longer now and you were blooming as ever compared to the version of you when you were still with her and she hated that fact.

"She cheated on you, right?" Steve asked Natasha, who was preparing something in the kitchen. "What are you gonna do? Poison her?"

Natasha let out a dry chuckle at the fossil's accusation, "I won't poison her. I'll just…make her drool, tempt her. Make her remember." After focusing on plating the food, Natasha looked at Steve, "Then, I'll make her regret." She winked at him before walking her way out of the kitchen. "Anyone who's up for a bomb contest?" Natasha shouted to all of you, it is a little segment the team do whenever they all plan to have a night out Thor told you.

But you are sensitive to spicy foods.

"Y/N, you don't have a reason not to join." Natasha smirked despite knowing you don't like any food that has spiciness in it, no matter if it's just 0.01% spicy. You forced a smile nervously but you nodded defeatedly when the whole team cheered for you, eager to please them as well as Natasha.

Now, it's the final battle, it's just you, Thor, and Natasha that lasted long. You didn't even know how you got in here when you didn't even like spicy foods in the first place. Thor gave up winking at the red head, she gave him a knowing smirk before drinking her cup of milk.

"Gosh...sorry guys, I give up too. Natasha's the winner." You almost choked, fanning your sticking out tongue with your hand.

"Oh c'mon, you're better than that Y/N!" Rhodey shouted.

"There is no loser in this house. My bet is on you." Tony whispered behind you.

You can only giggle and wipe the hot tears forming in your eyes due to the spiciness. Despite your whole face burning now, you accepted the challenge. Natasha can only smirk before Steve placed the new set of chili's in front of you. After Tony counted, you and Natasha started devouring a mouthful of green pepper wrapped in an egg crepe. You stopped, chuckling about how the team is making you laugh when you were taking a break from eating, drinking your milk to break down the spice. The white liquid dribbled down your neck to your chest.

"Oh my god, oh my god. It's so spicy!" You moaned, making Natasha gulp as she watched you remove your cardigan, the milk trailed down to your cleavage. She almost drools when you tie your hair back, eyes shut close, chest moving up and down as you breathe through your mouth. Tony has been wiping your forehead and Rhodey has been cheering Natasha who was like a deer in a headlights.

"Natasha, you win, I really give up." You breathe, chuckling when Tony whines. Meanwhile, Natasha was still staring at the sight of you.

"Who's drooling now?" Steve whispered teasingly behind her.

"I won though." She fired back before taking a big gulp of water.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

"Stark this isn't some court hearing, you gotta do better than that." You laughed, head shot back it almost broke while Tony kneels in front of you. The man made you stop doing the help he asked you to just to practice on you on how she will propose to Pepper, but then the assassin ruined his momentum.

"That's what I told him, Natasha." You giggled, wiping the mirth of tears on your eye.

"Relax, Stark. I know your egotistical ass won't take advice about love. But take your time while you look deep into her eyes. Think of all the memories you've made together." The redhead was now deep in thought, she was not looking at you but you were looking intently at her.

"From all those missions I have been and sent through, you are my rest, my love I always go home to." Your chest tightened at her words, some memories hitting you bullseye. But Natasha still continued, she seemed lost in her own world and words, reciting a piece of vow not sure if it was still an advice to Tony or…

"Not all the things we went through were happy and easy. We hurt each other. But there's a reason why we're here together now. No matter the pain and hardships, I will always choose to love you and be with you."

There was silence, then an air of memories that filled the entire room.

"Will you marry me?" Natasha laughed awkwardly, breaking the thick silence that she can almost touch.

Tony immediately stood, his knees shaking. Natasha's litany almost made him forget that he has been kneeling for almost an hour now. "Romanoff, that's a masterpiece. I didn't know you had it in you. I'll probably copy that vow."

"I swear, Tony. I will file a lawsuit about plagiarism if you did." Natasha smirks playfully, but her face turned serious when she saw you already walking back to Tony's lab hoping that the place wasn't contaminated with the air of memories too.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Days had passed and you did nothing but catch up with the team. You also continued helping Tony about something, that is kept away from the others.

Natasha was looking at you, laughing on a phone call. The day of your departure is nearing and her mission seems to be not working just yet and she wonders why. Maybe she isn't trying hard? So something came up in her mind.

"Wanna spar?" She asked you, she watched you end the phone call you were having and slipped your phone back to the pocket of your jeans. Meanwhile, Steve, Thor and Bruce shot their heads towards you as they heard Natasha's invitation.

"Oh for the love of Odin…" Thor whispered.

"Doomed, that's what's going to happen. We're gonna be doomed." Banner said before exiting to go to his lab, not wanting to witness whatever might happen.

Natasha then looked up at the two, but they immediately pretended to be doing something. "Guys, who's up for sparring?" but then Natasha focused back on you, waiting for your answer.

Her gaze seemed to indicate she's taking no for an answer. "Well, I…I uhh I'll meet you in the gym in 20." You scrambled out before nodding slowly at the blonde.

"Perfect."

And in 20 minutes she just had you under her, and now it's already 6 times in a row. You held your breath, staring at her straight and tapped her arm in defeat. "Come on." She instigates, her voice coming out a bit raspier.

You breathe hard, standing before throwing another lame punch her way again that she easily dodges. She smirked before she grabbed your waist, turning your body 180° towards her then slammed you hard on the boxing floor. Her body was pressed against you harder this time, so much tension as if she put all her anger on that body slam. Her knee dug deep on your left thigh and her hand pushed ribs just right at your bare skin making you let out a loud cry in pain, her other hand trapped you beside your head.

"Romanoff." Steve forewarned, Natasha looked at him before turning her gaze back on you whose face was creasing.

She can still remember the last time she had you in this same position and God knows how she wanted to have you like this again, but hopefully in a different situation. You tapped her arm weakly in yet another defeat but it took her five seconds before she moved to stand, as if she's taunting you for it. You palmed your chest as you slowly sat up and caught your breath, eyes dragging up to Natasha who was removing her shirt, her muscled back facing you. You blinked and immediately shot your eyes somewhere else and that didn't go unnoticed to the redhead seeing you on her peripheral—because she purposely did it, to undress in front of you.

"You okay, Y/N?" Steve asked worriedly behind you and you nodded before standing, limping as you tried to walk.

"I'll retire early tonight." That's the last thing you say before walking out, not daring to look back at the gym afraid you'll only see the redhead burning holes in you.

When Steve was sure you were gone, he asked Natasha, "What are you doing?"

"Sparing?" She simply said, she knows what Steve was trying to point out but she avoided the elephant in the room.

"You know what you're doing."

Natasha walked towards him, her face inches to Steve. "Oh I do, Steve. So get out of my way." Before nudging her shoulders on him as she walks towards the shower.

"This will not do you any good." He said out loud before turning to look at her.

"It will, Steve. But her? No. And that's what I am doing."

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

The shower of your room was not working and you did not bother to tell Tony about it, you're gonna leave two nights from now anyway so you decided to just go to the gym shower. Upon entering you saw Natasha, she just got out of the shower, she was wearing a muscle tee and a sports bra underneath with a matching jogger pants. Same ones she wore when she almost killed you in the boxing ring.

"The shower was broken." You broke the silence when the redhead looked at you shockingly, then, she hesitantly nodded.

There was a long silence that seemed to suffocate Natasha so she spoke, her voice almost cracking. "I'm sorry about earlier."

"It's fine. We all know who's going to win anyway." You smiled, but she was not able to see it since you were back to back on each other.

"Your flight is on Wednesday, right?" She asked, she turned to look at you. You hummed and didn't notice the pair of eyes watching as you started to remove your oversized shirt out of your body. "Still got some plans?" She asked again. Eyes dragging at the bare skin of your back. Now, you noticed how her tone changed to much softer this time—longing.

"Well, to spend time with you guys?" You let out a nervous chuckle toying with the strap of your sports bra.

You were about to walk inside the shower to drown the tension starting to form in your burning body, but rough hands on your bare waist stopped you. Natasha's breathing was hot against your shoulder, then, she turned your body so you're facing her. Your hands instinctively went on her chest. One of her hands cupped your cheek, her thumb caressing just the skin of your lower lip. She pushed you towards the cold tile of the bathroom and you let her—you leaned into her touch.

Faces inches between each other, noses brushing together. And her agape mouth ghosting onto yours exchanging hot breaths to each other's senses.

The first one to lean, loses.

"I…" you blinked as if you're realizing what situation you are in now and what actions might happen next in this very moment between you and your ex. "I'm getting married." Your lips shake, voice barely above a whisper. You ducked your head to the side to finally avoid her caspering lips, then slowly pushed her pressing body away from you.

She watched as you scramble to get your things and left the bathroom. She did not move there, alone, processing the words you just said.

You're getting married.

Oh.

Who loses now?

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

The last night in the compound came and Tony told you to have a simple gathering before you go. He called it a simple gathering instead of a party since you don't want any celebrations if the team is not complete.

Dinner quickly passed and Tony in fact did a wine testing right after, for his wedding with Pepper. Everyone was getting tipsy and drunk now, especially Thor who was slumped against his chair.

"Y/N, you know how good Natasha is at bartending, right?" Tony asked since Natasha has been the one making and experimenting the drinks.

There is an awkward silence after the question. Of course, that's when you officially met Natasha, at that very party conducted by Tony. She was the one making drinks at the bar and from there, your love story started.

"Yeah." You smiled solemnly at the memory. The team could only shift on their seats, mentally killing Tony for unconsciously bringing things about your relationship with Natasha.

"Of course she will." Natasha huffed, head tilting as she looked straight at you. "In fact my next drink is called, Y/N." She started, holding the wine glass up in the air. "It is fucking delicious. But deadly."

Everyone who was already stirring on their chair was on the edge of their seats now, including Thor who physically flinched and immediately sat up straight.

"It will hit you unaware. Because this drink is a fucking traitor."

You bit your lip and did not dare to look straight at Natasha. Noticing it, she let out an emotionless chuckle, "Oh c'mon Y/N don't take it seriously. I was just joking."

Tony stood from his seat and firmly held Natasha's hand. Taking the glass away from her. "What about coffee, Natasha? I think we're all getting drunk now."

"Drunk?" The redhead laughed and pushed Tony away from her, "Tony we're just brainstorming for the drinks on your wedding c'mon. So for the next drink, I propose the name: I met someone in Belgium." Her tongue laced with venom, getting a new drink she made from the table.

You started to tear up, but no tears dared to escape your eyes that it started to sting.

"What, Y/N? No comment? What's your opinion about this drink?" Natasha asked apathetically, Tony was still trying to keep her from nearing you. "Tony, do you know you're not the only one who's gonna get married?" She looked around the confused and pale faces of the entire team, "Everybody knows that?" She mused.

You ignored her and slowly stood, "G-guys, I'll go now. My flight's early tomorrow." You faked a smile to cover the hurt and humiliation you're feeling.

"There, you'll leave again. You're really good at that Y/N. Fine, I'll give you that."

"Romanoff, enough." It's now Steve who called her out.

"Wait, Steve. I still have one last drink. Guys, wait. Please, please let me," She turned to the cart where the drink was originally placed before transferring it to the table. "This one is named Eumie. Is that her name? The one after me…" she posed as if she was in a deep thought before continuing, "or during, Y/N? C'mon, tell me. Tell us."

Tears now started running down your skin, you looked at the team one by one before looking straight at Natasha.

"I never cheated on you. Not with Eumie, not with anyone." You held back a sob. "I lied. I lied to make you stop begging." You croaked, wiping the tears that the dam wasn't able to suppress. "I'll go now guys. I'm sorry."

You rushed to your room not realizing the shouts of Natasha's name just right behind you. When you were about to close the door of your room, a boot made its way between the doorway preventing it from closing. You jumped and before you could even react Natasha was already slamming the door shut behind.

"You fooled me and up until now you're fooling me!" She shouted. You sat on the couch and put your elbows on your knees together. Fingers touching your forehead. You knew this would happen—her confronting you about what you did.

"For four years I believed that there was someone else and now you'll say that it was all a lie? Every night in those four years I carried it with me, thinking why, Y/N. How can you replace me that easily? Like I'm just a fucking trash!" She pointed her finger on you as she spat. "What does she have that I don't? Huh?! Much richer? Beautiful? Does she fuck you better than I do? I doubted myself for four years. I wanted to hurt you, go to Belgium and ruin your life that I can easily fucking do! And now, you want me to believe that all those things were just lies? So what's the truth now?! Because I don't know now why I am hurting." Her voice now broke from all the angry shouting.

You stood, walking past her, wiping the tears you don't want her to see. "I'm so sorry, Natasha. I didn't want you to make you feel that way."

She trailed behind you, "Your apology won't matter now, I need the truth! After all I have done to you, that's it?"

After all I have done to you, that's it? The words triggered an alarm in your head, you breathe hard, grabbing your suitcase and striding to the bathroom to get your dirty clothes. Your jaw hurt from keeping the suppressed sobs, Natasha saw you tear up now.

"Don't fucking cry, tell me the truth. Both of us was in that relationship. I deserve the truth, Y/N!"

"I got tired!" You cry out. Natasha's jaw clench, she is now the one taking a step back away from you. Only three words, but it hit Natasha like a physical blow—the words puncturing her heart.

"When you are drowning I don't want to drown with you. Natasha, believe me I tried. God knows I tried! But I can only do so much." You closed your eyes, and your dam of tears finally shattered. Your cheeks stung as salty droplets cascaded down your skin. "God, I hated loving you so much." You sobbed. "I needed you to grow up. I needed my girlfriend, I needed my partner back. You want us to get married but both of us were miserable. You're always on missions, when you get back home there will be celebrations, then the next day you're gone for missions again, leaving me alone not knowing when you will come back to me. That night you left to go for the accords and you knew our plans, Nat. We're going to run away together and never look back, but you ran away first. I promise to never use this against you, but you left me first Nat, you neglected me, you abandoned me. For all those years we've been together, I gave up my life just to be with you, always choosing you and I got tired, Natasha…" You saw that she was silently crying but was trying to stop herself from doing so.

"If you hated me, I hated myself as well. When you were hurting, I was hurting too. You wanted to punish me, I was punishing myself every single day. Because how did I give up on the person I loved the most? Why did I let go? But someone had to do it, someone had to end it. And I know you won't do it—you couldn't do it because you're right, there are two of us in the relationship and both of us will drown if no one will end it. I'm sorry, I'm sorry Natasha I hurt you."

"I'm sorry..." She rushed out in a sob. "God, I'm sorry, Y/N."

You just let out a weak smile, nodding off her apologies. It's okay now.

"Don't you not love me anymore?" She asked like she has been waiting for this very moment to finally say the words. Your brows creased together while you walked towards her, you cupped her race, thumb wiping the tears racing down her cheek.

"I can never unlove you, Natasha. I just love you in a different way now."

"I don't know how to let you go, Y/N. I don't know how to live without you…" She sobbed. You pressed your bodies together, letting her head fall down to your shoulders while you caressed the back of her neck as she continued to cry.

God knows how much you wanted to take away the anguish, the grief that had settled in her heart.

But you can only do so much.

After a long silence filled with your cries together. Natasha, even though she doesn't want to pull away from you just yet, she stepped back. "If we're going to go back on that night I left for that mission knowing that…this would happen to us, are you going to avoid me?" She asked, sniffling away the tears that had left in her. She finally looked at you, but much different now. More understanding, more care—more love.

And much importantly, acceptance.

You closed the distance between the two of you. You gave her a soft smile causing the redhead to break a smile as well. You reached for her face again, cupping and caressing it with both of your hands before answering her question.

"No. Even though I know that we wouldn't end up together, that we'll hurt each other…I think that's better than not having a Natasha Romanoff coming into my life."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader

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00valentina-writes00 · 1 day ago

Note

ellie with reader who has selective mutism? love your workk

♡♥︎Ellie with a girl they has selective mutism♥︎♡

♥︎ Ellie’s got a big mouth—always has, always will—but the moment she realizes you have selective mutism, she dials it back. Not in a way that makes you feel weird or different, but in a way that says, Hey, I see you. I get it.

♥︎ She never pressures you to speak. If you want to, cool. If you don’t, also cool. She reads your body language like a damn expert, catching onto little things—the way you shift, the way your eyes dart—before you even realize you’re communicating.

♥︎ That being said, she still talks a lot. Not to fill the silence, but just because she wants to share things with you. Her day, a dumb joke she thought of, how she absolutely destroyed Dina in a game of poker (she’s lying).

♥︎ Ellie’s the type to get really protective when people try to force you to talk. If anyone’s being pushy or making you uncomfortable, she’s immediately stepping in with a sharp, “They don’t owe you shit, dude. Move along.”

♥︎ She picks up on your nonverbal cues fast. If you glance at the door at a party, she’s already grabbing your hand to lead you out. If you shift uncomfortably when someone tries talking to you, she redirects the conversation smoothly.

♥︎ Writes little notes and passes them to you when you’re both chilling. Sometimes they’re stupid doodles of a buff giraffe (her artistic skills are questionable), sometimes they’re just little things like u hungry? wanna get outta here? u look cute btw.

♥︎ Over time, she gets used to the different ways you communicate—gestures, nods, writing things down. If you’re comfortable, she’ll even help you practice speaking in a low-pressure way, like whispering to her when no one else is around.

♥︎ She talks to you in the same casual, unfiltered way she talks to anyone else. She never makes you feel fragile or different, never acts like she’s walking on eggshells.

♥︎ Lowkey brags about understanding you better than anyone else. If someone’s confused about something you meant, Ellie’s already translating like, “They mean no, dude. Can you not tell?”

♥︎ If you ever do decide to talk, even just a word or two, she never makes a big deal out of it. Just gives you this soft little smile, like she’s proud of you but doesn’t wanna put you on the spot. Later, though, when you’re alone, she might squeeze your hand and be like, “That was cool, babe.”

♥︎ Hums and sings under her breath around you. Sometimes she does it just to make the silence feel shared rather than empty. If you have a song you like, she’ll learn it on her guitar and play it for you without expecting you to say anything about it.

♥︎ Lets you take the lead in physical affection. If you reach for her hand, she acts all casual about it, but inside she’s melting. If you tug on her sleeve for attention, she turns to you immediately, giving you her full focus.

♥︎ If someone asks why you don’t talk, Ellie is the first to shut that down. “That’s none of your business,” she’ll say, jaw tight. She doesn’t need an explanation to respect you, and she makes sure no one else does either.

♥︎ Gets really good at interpreting your facial expressions. A raised eyebrow? She’s smirking. A side glance? “Okay, yeah, that dude is weird-looking.” She makes it feel like a secret language between you two.

♥︎ If you ever get frustrated with yourself, she’s the first to reassure you. “Hey, you don’t need to talk to be heard, alright?” She’ll sit with you through whatever you’re feeling, no pressure, just warmth.

♥︎ Teaches you dumb hand signals for things. If you’re across the room and she wants to make you laugh, she does something goofy, like a dramatic thumbs down when Dina’s being annoying.

♥︎ If you text her instead of speaking, she responds in the same way—never makes you feel like it’s weird. Sometimes she even sends voice memos in response, all lazy and affectionate, like, “Babe, you should’ve seen Jesse’s face when I beat his ass in cards today.”

♥︎ Winks at you a lot. Not in a flirty way (okay, sometimes in a flirty way), but mostly in an I got you kinda way. If you’re struggling, if someone’s being annoying, if she just wants to make you smile—wink.

♥︎ At the end of the day, she never sees you as “the quiet one.” She just sees you. The way you light up when you’re happy, the way you make her feel safe without saying a word. And in return, she makes sure you always know: you don’t have to say anything for her to hear you.

#ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #the last of us x reader #the last of us headcanons #tlou #ellie tlou #the last of us

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jjunbug · 2 days ago

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hehe don’t even worry about it!! ♡♡ i’m so happy that i can finally read all your love thoughts on the prologue!! i’ve been waiting for this~~ but will do! 🫡

THE PLAYLISTTTT!!! i spent so much time on it hehe i’m glad that you like it!! and hehe the bog bodies i love that song so much and it fits so well with the future chapters too!! i’m excited for you to see it all ^^

but omg you got the subtle foreshadowing here!!! i love YOUU!!! and the worldbuilding hehe i’m so so happy that you like it so much!! and your super sweet words… stop i could cry. i’m so happy that my writing comes off so atmospheric and so visual that you can see the words like a movie!!! that’s like the greatest compliment ever and one of my goals, so you have no idea how glad i am to hear this!!! ♡♡ and published fantasy books??? i’m sobbing rn omg thank you?????

but yes!!! change is so so jarring and is literally nothing like how the (older) adults in our lives explained it to be and i wanted to show that in various ways. it’s something that i personally struggling with a lot and i’m so comforted but the fact that so many others can relate to me with this and also feel comforted by my words about it!! it truly reminds me that we aren’t in this all alone ♡♡♡

LMAOO😭 you asking if she’s a slave is killing me PLSS,,, i wouldn’t say she’s a slave, but she’s kinda like cinderella except there’s no evil stepsisters or anything just her!! her and her evil “mother” lamia lmao… but and the hound playing during all of this??? oh my… that would rip my guts out too… but hehe thank you so much!!! i literally start ascending when people compliment my music taste (∩˃o˂∩)♡♡ and lost playing while kai is introduced???? spotify perfectly lining up songs for you while reading omg,,, don’t even get me started on my blood,,,,,,

me??? a poet???? hehe stoppppp~~ (๑˃ᴗ˂) i use to be completely obsessed with poetry tho, so this is literally like the highest of compliments!!! reminds me of when i was in high school my english teacher had us write poems and she hung mine up for everyone to see for the rest of the time i was in high school lmao. but you complimenting my write,,, i will start crying omg.

but yesss!!!!! i love kai in this sm~~ him being all smooth and being like “well all queens need a king right??” like i’d literally melt on the spot me and mc are the exact same!!! and then him kissing her hand like OMGGGG,,, but yes hehe~~ this is just the prologue you’re not prepared for everything that goes down in chapter one…!!!

it’s okay lmao i laughed writing it😭😭 same with when i came up with green thumbs. i was like WAITTTT??? am i… a genius???? can you tell i spent wayyyy to much time coming up with the names of literally everything?? the oc names, the name of the inn, the name of the school…. hehe so much to tell~~ there’s literally SO much foreshadowing jam packed into this prologue that i’m so curious on how much everyone caught!!!

althea >>>>>>>>> lamia, that’s all i’ll say.

but yes yes yes THIS!!! him immediately going to her and content to just sit with her in silence if need be… literally besides althea, the only people they have in the whole world at that moment is each other, it’s so strangely comforting and so sad at the same time!! but i’m so happy that you like the dialogue!!!!! you don’t understand how many times i reread all of the paragraphs out loud just to make sure everything flowed well and that the dialogue didn’t seem so clunky… like it was kinda embarrassing but i’m so happy that it came out well!!!!!

and the artwork that inspired all of this!!!! you don’t understand as soon as i saw it i was like YES!!!!!! i need to write something about that IMMEDIATELY. i love artists and writers and poets so so much too, where would the world be without them??

but yes hehe all of the comparisons, i’m so happy that you caught it!!!! and i’m so happy you liked the inner dialogue too!!! i kinda did it a different way so i’m happy that it all paid off!! BUT YOURE LITERALLY SO SWEET AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AHHH!!! (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ )♡♡♡ THIS MEANS SO MUCH TO ME!!!!!! TRUST i will publish a book one day and i’ll never forget all the kind things you and so many others said to me that lifted me up so high. literally going straight into my dedications and i’m so serious.

the timestamp for burn it down by daughter is killing me tho LMAOHSIFHJDFNJDD that’s so funny😭😭

literally gonna cry reading this like,,, i’m so happy that you enjoyed the prologue and thank you so so so so SO much for reading!!! ♡♡ i’m so excited to hear your thoughts about chapter one when i (finally) release it!!! hehe i hope you stay tuned!!!~~

BETWEEN TWILIGHT SKIES ───𝓅𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗎𝖾: 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍

in a world that’s on its dying breath, the once green and lush landscapes get buried in more and more layers of ash. the once flourishing streets that were full of magic are now a dull hum. yet, there is still hope—and it lies in the hands of you and kai, the last people to possess magic. suddenly, you remember the story of a forest that watches, and a well of life that lies deep within. you’re determined to save your bleak world in any way that you can, yet, you weren’t expecting to end up in a brand new world entirely.

pairing ⸝⸝ huening kai 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳!𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘢 (𝘰𝘤) & 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳!𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢 (𝘰𝘤)

genre ⋆ 📖 ⸝⸝ angst, fluff, a lot of yearning and longing (both romantic and platonic), magic, sorcerer!kai

warnings ⸝⸝ kidnapping, toxic environments and parental relationships, implied bullying, two instances of reader getting slapped, violence, death (of people & animals), depictions of gore, implied anxiety attack and abuse, hand holding & staring into each others eyes, tension filled kissing

𝓴ipo’s note ⸝⸝ the series has finally started!! now listen, listen, listen!! i know what you’re thinking, “a prologue and it’s 7.6k????” but i need you guys to STAY WITH ME!!! stay with me and lock in and after reading it all you’ll understand why it had to be this long lmao… next chapter you’ll meet yeonjun hehe~~ i hope you enjoy!!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ❨ 7.6k ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝓼𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝒎𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

‎ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ 𐦍 ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏NEXT ⤇

The world around you had begun to wither away and decay long before it had started to end. As most things do, the rot had started to creep its way in through love. It had used it as a gateway, spreading its sickness all throughout the things you touched until it was the thin wisps of ash coating your cracked fingertips. Still, you let the rot in—let it corrupt the things you loved and change them into something unrecognizable, something unimaginable—something that was now dead and gone. You just couldn’t let go of the small doses of love you were granted with—naively gulping down tasteless sips to fill that hole inside your heart left by people you never even really knew.

You cradled love like a child guards its favorite toy; with fear and hesitancy. It was clear in the way your body hunched over and you looked up at every grown-up through wet lashes. Obvious in the way your dirty clothes hung limply from gangly limbs—once a tight fit but now they seemed to be made for a child much older than you. It must’ve been what enthralled her, what made her decide to pluck a random child no older than five off the street in the middle of the night and take them home.

In a way, you guess you had to thank her for the senseless crime she committed; for it gave you a warm bed to lay your head at night and food to fill your growling belly. It didn’t bother you that it all had come at a price, in fact, you were none the wiser. But, you’d know soon enough. The mask can only stay on for so long before it starts to crack—before it starts to rot like everything else did.

Lamia, is the name she sweetly whispered next to your ear as she tucked you into a bed that was never yours that night. “But, you can call me Mom,” she said, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

It was hard watching things change in front of your very eyes. It was never the way people described it for you. Not the slow twist of vines along a column or the grass growing taller than a fence—no. It was the whipping of wind across your face. You’d go to wipe your teary eyes and find the sunny and warm scenery was now cold and dead with glittering snow laying everywhere.

You hated it.

You wished that things could stay as they were for as long as they could. You hated watching the faces of people you’ve grown to know dip and sag with age in an instant. You hated watching the life leave their eyes in a quick blink. And you hated how life seemed to go so slow for everyone except for you.

If you could dare to wish for one thing, it would be more time.

Sweet nights and even sweeter days began to sour, and Lamia—your mother—wasn’t as kind as she used to be when you were still a child. You think that that is what hurt the most with this odd whipping of wind, that you were forced to watch the love your mother held for you leave her eyes faster than you got to grow up to the young teenager you were today.

“Welcome to the Freywolf Inn!” you heard her voice exclaim to the ringing bell of the door. It was a careful blend of welcoming and cheerful. The sound was drowned out of your ears by the incessant sound of a brush against hardwood and soap mixing with water. You sat back on your knees, throwing the brush into the soapy mess and letting it clang against the floor, sighing. You wiped the back of your wet hand across your forehead and sucked in a breath.

Your knees ached and your hands were sore and cramped. This was the worst part of your mornings. No matter how hard you scrubbed these wooden floors, it wasn’t enough for Lamia. If they didn’t shine as if freshly polished when you were done then you scrubbed them wrong and she made you clean them again. Standing up on weak legs, you looked over your shoulder at the new customers as you reached for the bucket of dirty soap water. A soft gasp left your lips and you had to hold on tight to the bucket handle with both hands to ensure its contents didn't go spilling all over the floor.

You’d recognize them anywhere—the Collective, with their hooded, light forest-green cloaks embroidered with gold filigree and its golden satin insides. You never saw a member in person before—not that you were particularly excited to. Seeing a member of the Collective, so far away from the School of Pith, could only mean one thing…

The rot was here.

Frozen like a deer caught on sacred ground, you stared wide-eyed at them as they made their way to the common room, their carefree laughs carrying in the air around them. It felt like a bad omen—a confirmation. You tried so hard to ignore the fate of the things around you, but seeing that you could no longer hide from it was like a punch to your stomach.

Strangely, you also couldn’t help but be morbidly fascinated by it all. You exhaled slowly, steadying your racing heart and stilling your shaking hands that grasped the handle of the wooden bucket. Distantly, you felt the sting of pain across the back of your hands and shut your eyes. Only when every last molecule of air was absent from your lungs did you allow yourself to gulp in more to soothe the burning—just like your mother taught you.

Your eyes fluttered back open and landed on the group of sorcerers. They playfully practiced their magic out in the open—ringlets of green floating in the air and curling around their fingers and forearms. Their hands moved in peculiar ways, a jerk here or a smooth twist of their wrist there. You couldn’t understand it, but the more you watched them perform magic in front of your very eyes, the more you wanted to.

One member stood out to you in particular. He sat off to the side, a small distance away from where the others engaged and practiced their magic at, by himself. Dark hair fell over his warm-brown eyes, but you could still see how kind they were as they watched the other members of the Collective almost fondly. His green hood was over his head and he fiddled with the seams of his white pants with pale hands. There was a ghost of a smile on his face and—unbeknownst to you—there was one on yours too.

He didn’t practice his magic like the others did. He seemed content in just watching, having no need in the selfish display of power the others showcased. It piqued your interest what set him apart from the others and already you could feel a growing favor blossom in your chest for the boy.

He had to be only a few years older than you were and your cheeks warmed at the thought. He reached his arms up and pushed the hood backwards off his head, seemingly oblivious to your staring as were the rest of them. The filtered daylight washed over his body and you saw him more clearly. Your eyes greedily scanned over the slopes of his face, desperate to take him all in as quickly as you could. You couldn’t lie, he was beautiful.

You trailed your eyes over to the wisps of the green in the air. It’s different knowing that magic exists in a world so bleak and actually seeing it in action. It made you wonder where the ash was here in your small village—the rot—so you could watch them smother it. You needed to see those ringlets of green curl around it tighter and tighter until it didn’t exist anymore. Until all of the ash was gone for good.

You wanted to know what it felt like to wield such magic. Your fingers itched to replicate their movements in hopes that green wisps of your own would emerge. Maybe then would your touch not bring about destruction.

A hand roughly grabs your shoulder and breaks you away from the trance you were under. “Stupid child! Can you not hear?”

Lamia’s wrinkled face startlingly comes into view and you feel the bite of her nails in the flesh of your arm through the fabric of the thin dress you wore. You stammered, unsure of what to say and what her previous words were, and blinked rapidly at her accusation.

Wind whipped across your face and too late did you feel prickling pain spread across your cheek. The inn fell deathly silent and your eyes started to water. You swallowed down the lump in your throat thickly, your watery eyes finding your mother’s. “When I ask you a question, you answer it. Do I have to repeat myself?” your mother asked you.

Slowly, you shook your head and willed yourself to find your voice. “N-no, mother.” Your voice came out in a quiet squeak, completely pathetic and weak.

“Good,” Lamia responded. “Dry these soap-covered floors before our customers slip. Then, I want you to ensure the rooms for them are ready.”

“Yes, mother,” you said in that same weak voice.

She looked you up and down for a moment before tsking. Then, she turned on her heel and returned back to where she was behind the counter beforehand. Smoke curled from her mouth as she leisurely flipped through the sign-in book, unaware of the way time changed around her.

You swallowed thickly again, fingers tightening and untightening around the handle of the bucket you still held. Slowly, you turned just enough to look over your shoulder at lounging customers. No longer did they smile and laugh with a carefree attitude and swirls of green in the air. Instead, they stared at you with barely disguised shock. Your gaze snapped to the boy you were spellbound with earlier to find him staring too, mouth slack and sitting at the edge of the couch like he was eager to stand. His eyes met your teary ones and you broke away from the sudden connection.

Lifting the bucket closer to your chest, you rushed off into the direction of the rooms, embarrassment weighing you down and the once unshed tears now falling down your face. You ignored the sloshing sound of the water inside of it and the way the wood hit against your stomach, spilling over the metal lip and onto the floor below, creating an even bigger mess.

Sniffling, you hid yourself in the supply room. Your tears fell freely and a large sob wracked your body. You let the bucket slip from your fingers just inches from the rocky floor without a care and with a piercing thud. Stupid, you thought to yourself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Get it together. Stop crying.

Yet, the tears wouldn't stop. You heaved in breaths of air that refused to reach your lungs. You didn’t have time for this. If the floors weren’t dry and the rooms weren’t checked on in a timely manner then you’d get worse than a slap across the face. Harshly, you dug the palms of your hands into your cheeks and wiped away the fallen tears. You compelled yourself to take a deep breath, to let the oxygen reach your lungs and not be blocked by the false closing of your throat.

Closing your eyes, you took in another deep breath, and another and another until your body no longer began to tremble. You straightened your back so you weren’t hunched over anymore and wiped your hands down the front of your damp dress. When you felt like you weren’t unravelling at the seams only then did you step out of the supply room to face the world.

Instead of the loud chattering coming from the Collective like from when they arrived, it was quiet and sparse whispers. When you got closer to where they were in the common room, the whispers grew.

You tried to drown their whispers out—opting to instead get to work on your mother’s request. Dropping to your knees, you took the clean towel and aggressively dried the wet section of hardwood floor beneath you, letting all your focus fall onto the repeated action.

Footsteps sounded behind you, but you didn’t hear them until an unfamiliar voice stunned you from your focus. “If I may?” the voice asked. You looked to the side, eyes meeting dirty brown boots whose eyelets caught in the bright sun. They trailed upwards to white pants and gold embroidered filigree onto a light, forest-green velvet fabric. Your hand halted its aggressive drying as your eyes ascended further to meet the boy from earlier’s handsome face. Your eyes widened to saucers and his seemed to be just as big as they looked down at you. “It will all go faster if I do this,” he continued, some of his words wobbling around the edges.

You remained silent, not trusting your voice to not come out raw and abrasive. The boy extended a hand out in front of him and with a twist of his wrist wisps of green emerged and wrapped around it. They swirled out around the two of you, lightly fogging across the floor. You turned to the wet floor in front of you and watched as it suddenly dried, the wood shining in the sunlight pouring in from the window. Your jaw slackened as your mouth fell open.

“It was a simple spell—you shouldn’t have to be on your hands and knees drying a floor,” the boy stated, the second part lower than the first so your mother didn’t hear. He outstretched his hand to you. Your mouth was still open as you turned back to stare blankly at his hand. An amused and warm smile pulled his cheeks upward and you suddenly came to the realization that you must’ve looked ridiculous.

“T-thank you…” you trailed off, voice barely above a whisper, still starstruck by the display of magic and the boy’s smile. You straightened your back before blinking a couple times. Clearing your throat, you accepted his outstretched hand and the boy helped you to your feet.

He chuckled and you felt your knees weaken more. His hand was still holding yours, the both of you forgetful as your gaze seared into each other. The smile slowly fell from his face, his lips parting with unspoken words as he gaped at you as if bewitched. Snickering to your side brought the two of you back to real life and you pulled your hands away from each other.

“Uh,” the boy said, clenching the hand that was just holding yours and trying to form a coherent sentence. His gaze snapped briefly to the other members of the Collective before landing on you again. “U—No worries! It was nothing, really. Kai.” He stammered over his words before his eyebrows raised. “My name. It’s–I’m, uh, Kai.”

Kai outstretched his hand again before he thought better of it and swiftly yanked it away, instead rubbing the back of his neck with it. If you weren’t so disoriented you’d laugh, but you just stare at him instead, the heat slowly creeping up your neck. You then realize how much of a mess you must look and quickly wipe your cheeks to get rid of any remaining tears. “Um,” you start, “I… I’m—”

Your name slices through the air like a knife. You jump, eyes darting over to where your mother stood behind the counter, a saccharine smile pulling her lips as she looked at the two of you. It felt as if you were watching a snake rattle its tail. Looking back to Kai, you offer him the tiniest of smiles before rushing away again, leaving him standing alone.

You’re not quite sure when the obsession with magic started. Maybe it was when you saw how carefree the Collective looked wielding it, as if it was second nature. Or, maybe it was when Kai had so graciously used it to help you out so you didn’t have to spend the remainder of the morning on your hands and knees. All you did know was that it had sunk its claws inside of you, gripping fiercely at your heart and making the hole inside of it larger.

Maybe it was when you started sneaking away from, or even downright rushing to finish, your duties so you could watch them practice magic. Maybe it was the rush you got watching their hands twist and jerk in specific movements for specific outcomes, green coils emerging from the motions.

But, you think it started when you lifted your hands into the air, daring to copy them.

At first, it was nothing, and frustration built up like a brick wall inside you. Then, that frustration turned to resentment, and that resentment into anger.

The Collective were here for a week so far and you weren't sure how long you had left before they departed. Why weren’t you born with magic like they were? If you had magic, it would change everything. No longer would everything rot around you when you could smother the rot all out—bring everything that has long been dead and gone back to life. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

You flicked your fingers in the air angrily as green smoked around the member’s fingers and not yours. Something a mix between and groan and a growl emerged from your throat instead. But, you were determined—and you refused to give up.

Perfecting the twists of your wrists and quick jerks of your fingers, you exhaled steadily and focused on getting the same result the member of the Collective did—cracking open a single walnut without touching it. The walnut sat on the floor in front of you mockingly and you scowled at it before focusing again.

“Come on,” you whispered to yourself. “Come on, come on. Work, please.” With one final twist of your wrist, you heard the distinct cracking sound and a soft gasp pushing between your lips. Your face broke into a smile and it took everything in you not to cheer at the top of your lungs. You watched the slightest hints of green feather away around the lengths of your fingers, so fast the color was barely distinguishable. A smile spread across your face from ear to ear.

“Yes!” you proclaimed, taking care to keep your voice low. A pleased laugh left your mouth and happy tears filled your lash line, “Yes!”

Your view snapped back to that of the Collective in the dining hall. You listened to the way they joked with each other and made water spin into wine—getting themselves drunk and red-faced. As your stare analyzed them, you noticed that Kai wasn’t among them.

It was odd, you thought, but it reminded you of the first time you saw him and how he sat apart from the others. How different he seemed from them. Just from watching the Collective members interact, you already didn’t like them. Maybe Kai felt the same.

You haven’t talked to him since that day—haven’t really seen him around besides quick glimpses, either. A peculiar feeling stirred in your chest and you weren’t sure what it meant. You just hoped that your paths would cross again.

When you weren’t at Freywolf Inn, you were at the craft guild with your nose buried in a book. You were there so often that you were on a first name basis with the stationer, Althea, a sweet lady who distinctly had the look that reminded you of a barn owl. In the entirety of your small village, it seemed Althea was the only one who wasn’t victim to the rot. You felt safe being around her—and she always remarked how much you were like a daughter to her.

She let you freely borrow the books she received or binded and even let you hang out behind the counter while she dealt with artisans and people wealthier than you could ever imagine who came to see her from all over the world. You remember asking her one day why people came from all over to see her wares.

“Not that they’re bad,” you quickly added, leaning the open book onto your thighs as you looked up at her from your hiding spot underneath the counter. She threw you a witty smile over her shoulder from the press she was at, hair the color of cinnamon sticks falling over her shoulder. The two of you felt as if you were moving at the same speed—you barely realized the fact that streaks of white slowly became more prevalent in her hair. “I mean, this is just such a small village… Wouldn’t they go to communes or the King’s Roots where the school is?”

Althea’s voice was nothing like you’ve heard before despite her saying how she grew up in the village. It had a strange accent and the way she spoke was like silk against the bark of a tree. Althea turned from where she worked to meet your questioning look, leaning over and resting her elbows on her knees so she was just about eye level with you, “Not… quite. See, I offer words that you won’t find on a shelf at the School of Pith. Illustrations they wouldn’t dare to let one of their students witness.”

You sat up more underneath the counter, completely abandoning the still open book in your lap. Your eyes shined with curiosity and Althea laughed—a sound that resembled crackling fire. “What kind of words?” you asked her.

“Knowledge, my owlet. There’s much more out there than the green thumbs of Pith—the royals and the wealthy.” Althea spat out green thumbs like food stuck on her tongue. You knew she never liked the Collective, but to this day, she still never told you why.

Althea stood and walked over to one of the shelves that you never touched, but was always only open for certain customers who came inside the guild hooded and quiet. Her finger ran along the spines as her white brows drew together, “There is a forest in this world, buried deep within another.” Her brows lifted as she found the book she was looking for and she made her way back to the counter.

You crawled from beneath the counter, twisting to watch as she laid the thick book down onto it and opened it to the beginning pages. You gently discarded the book you were reading off to the side of the counter, your focus now on the twirling of words and stirring drawings. Althea’s fingers gently caressed the pages. Her face was distant and longing, like recounting a memory that happened centuries ago. “The Forest That Watches, it is called,” she continued. “It’s white-barked trees have black eyes drawn onto them by people from long ago and its drooping pink leaves kiss the sacred ground.”

For a moment, Althea was quiet. You waited patiently, decidedly taking in the open page until she was ready to speak again. You could tell that this forest was a sensitive topic for her and you didn’t want to pry. You looked up at her when she wrapped her arm around your shoulders. She regarded you with a fond smile, “The forest has never been found, though, and it remains watching—waiting. Its pink leaves hide what’s inside; the Well of Life.”

With her free arm, Althea flipped through the pages until it landed on the Forest and the Well. “Woah,” you muttered, leaning forward to get a better look at it. Even from the illustrations you could tell how beautiful it was, feel the magic that radiated from it all.

You knew why it hadn’t been found yet—why it never could be. That much power in the wrong hands would be detrimental. But, you couldn’t help but wonder how different your world would be if it had access to the magical waters Althea was telling you about.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Althea breathed wistfully. “We’ll meet there one day… under the pink leaves and drink from the Well.” She returned her gaze to yours. “Wouldn’t that be nice? Then the turning of the sun won’t seem so fast.”

You sighed to yourself as your eyes fell back to the pages. You leaned your head into Althea’s side and she wrapped her arm around you tighter. “That would be nice,” you say.

In the darkness of the night, you let the shadows listen to your deepest wishes. And how you wish that it was Althea who plucked you from the streets instead of Lamia.

You wander Althea’s shelf now, hands running along the spines. Your fingertips still buzz with the magic you emitted earlier and you swear you can feel the contents of the shelved books calling out to you. Stilling, your fingers halt onto a book. The pull was just too strong to deny and when you turn your head to read the spine you find that the lettering has been rubbed away by time. You hum in slight annoyance before pulling the book from the shelf.

You can feel how Althea’s eyes trail you, especially when you walk over to the counter to take your familiar spot under it. In the corner of your eye, you can see her head tilt. “You feel different. And you’re quiet—quieter than usual,” she says quizzically.

Looking up from your book, a corner of your mouth raises. “Magic, Althea…” Your face breaks out into full-on excitement. “I have it! At least… sparks of it…”

Althea’s face doesn’t change from its quizzical expression. She shifts in her seat in front of the press. “Green?” she asked you, accusatory. You're unsure whether her accusatory tone was towards you or not.

The excitement swiftly falls from your face and you sit up more under the counter. “I… Yeah…” you mutter, avoiding her stare.

“It can’t be,” Althea states matter-of-factly. Her white brows furrow, and she looks away from you. “Can’t be…” she quietly trails off, more to herself than to you. “Green is… can’t be, can’t be. Doesn’t make sense.”

“I think it was green…” you pipe up, voice falling flat towards the end when her piercing black eyes snap to yours. “I didn’t really see the color, it all happened too fast.” It was true, but in your heart you wished it was green. You just wanted Althea to stop acting all fidgety and looking at you the way she did. You held the book in your arms closer to your chest and Althea’s gaze dropped to the movement.

Althea’s body physically relaxed from the tense state it was in, and if you looked close enough, you thought you could see the ghost of a smile on her lips. She hummed, suddenly pleased, “Magic… how enchanting. Have I told you about the White Fawn? Or, the prophecy of Eternal Winter?”

Your brows knitted at the change in her demeanor, but you concluded that it was better to leave it be. You shook your head at her question. “What about faeries?” Althea asked.

“No,” you responded, “what are they?”

Althea slid to the ground in front of you, a grin pulling her mouth and exposing her teeth. She tapped the book you desperately clutched to your chest with an ivory finger. “Why don’t you take a look?”

You giggled to yourself, letting your arms flow in the harmony of the wind. You twirled and moved your body to the tune of nature—to the sounds of the forest’s edge behind you with its rustling leaves and chattering animals. The crown of sticks and fallen leaves fell down further onto your forehead and you laughed more. You didn’t even notice the single brilliant blue butterfly that landed on it and completed your costume.

If your mother saw you right now, she’d be furious. She had sent you out here on punishment with the intention of having you clean the stables behind the inn. Instead, you were dancing The Dance of Youth and pretending to be the Faerie Queen.

You spent all day yesterday reading Althea’s book on anything magical you could get your hands on, which mainly consisted of faeries and the realm they occupied. The books conjured up tales, legends, and myths of those more than human—people with glittering or colorful skin, wings, horns shooting from their heads, and even human-like versions of some of the animals you were already familiar with. It was completely enthralling reading about it all, and feeling all the magic pour off of the pages made you even more giddy. The magic the School of Pith had was nothing compared to the magic you had read about.

In a kingdom so sunny and full of bloom, A deadly winter approaches to cause mass doom. Drowns the kingdom in layers of snow, And becomes a place where nothing grows and no one goes.

You sang and danced around in the grass, pretending that you weren’t human at all, but faerie. That you were queen and the lands stretching from the edge of the forest to the inn was your kingdom. You wished you lived in Faerie where all the other magical creatures resided. That you and Althea could live there together, happy. Maybe even Kai could join you too. You giggled more at the wonderful thought.

Rustling in the forest drew your attention and you halted your dance. You leaned forward, listening closely and peering at the way the setting sun shined through the leaves, but then laughed at how ridiculous the notion was. Of course there was rustling, it’s a forest. You turned your attention back to the doll propped up on a rock, watching you. “Don’t look at me that way,” you say, twirling once more before making your way over to it.

The doll was a sightly thing made out of straw and sticks that Althea gave to you as a child. After all these years you still had it, and you cherished it deeply—making sure to keep it hidden from Lamia so she wouldn’t toss it out. You could hear her voice now, “A girl born in the summer of the thirteenth year of the King still playing with dolls? How preposterous!”

You hummed, bending down to retrieve the doll. “What an odd thing to say… Why should I find a man to marry in order to rule? I am the Faerie Queen. This is my kingdom, I shall rule it how I see fit!”

Too lost in your own dream-like world, you don’t notice the crunching of leaves beneath boots. “Well, all Queens need a King to stand beside them,” a voice said behind you. You spun in place, clutching the doll to your chest. Kai tilted his head at you, an easy smile playing on his lips. “Don’t you think?” he concluded.

His cloak was covered in ash. He and the other members of the Collective must have just returned from defeating the ash in the area for good. The heat immediately rushed to your face and your mind raced. Kai stood mere feet from you and you were stumbling over your own thoughts on what to say. You stood up straighter, trying to appear nonchalant, “I-I suppose…”

How embarrassing it was to be caught in such childlike endeavors—by Kai of all people! You moved the doll behind your back in an attempt to hide it, yet Kai’s gaze followed the action before flicking back up to your face. Behind him, you saw the rest of the Collective ride up on horses towards the inn, snickering at the two of you. “I see Kai has finally found someone willing to lay with him!” one shouted sarcastically.

Kai’s face soured and he looked over his shoulder at them with a glare before turning back to you. Face softening, he took a step towards you. “Ignore them,” Kai says, “They think they’re funny and they’re not.”

He stripped off his velvet green cloak and gave it a good shake away from where you stood. Ash clouded off of it in front of him, making the two of you cough a little. “Sorry,” Kai coughed, letting the cloak fall onto the rock next to him. “So… The Faerie Queen, huh? What’s that? Does that have something to do with your dance?”

You looked down to your feet in even more embarrassment. “It’s… It’s nothing.” You sat down on the rock that your doll was previously perched on. “I can’t believe you saw that…” you muttered under your breath.

“It looked like fun,” Kai laughed, and you looked up to catch the way his smile lingered as he looked down at you. “You seemed really into it, didn’t even notice me coming up behind you. You jumped like a caught baby deer.”

It was your turn to laugh. “A baby deer?” you asked and Kai nodded. “I guess you could say that, but you scared me!” Kai sat down next to you. He pointed his chin upwards, his eyes on the crown of sticks and leaves on your head. “Is that your crown, Faerie Queen?”

Biting your lip, you took the crown off and placed it in your lap. You toyed with the leaves in it. “You should make me one,” Kai says. You looked up at him. He was much closer than you originally thought he was, his shoulder brushing up against yours making you nervous. This close up you could see all the details of his face—his eyelashes that occasionally rested softly on round, smiling cheeks, and the curve of his plump, pinked lips. And his warm, brown eyes that never left your face. “You know… Queens and Kings and all of that…”

You smiled, looking away from him so he wouldn’t see how flustered he made you. “Really?” you questioned, braving his stare once again. “Yeah!” Kai exclaimed. He leaned closer to you, “Only if you see me fit, though, my queen.”

Kai took your hand in his and bent over to press his lips to the back of it, his eyes flicking up to look at you between his lashes. The action set you alight and you were so sure that Kai could feel the heat radiating off of your body. “I’ll have to put you to the test,” you mutter, barely managing to get your words out. “Only the best can rule with me by my side.”

You felt the vibrations of Kai’s laugh against your skin before he sat back up, his hand still grasping yours. His face was even closer to yours now. All it took was one of you to lean a little closer and your lips would meet. “Well, you’ll find that I am the best of the best,” Kai spoke, lowly. His eyes dropped to your lips and he swayed a little. “Nobody stands a chance against me.”

“Is that so?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Mhm,” Kai nodded. He closed the gap between the two of you and pressed his lips against yours. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he used it to cup your cheek and lift your chin to kiss you deeper. You melted into his touch, your lips moving in sync with his. It was perfect, and the feeling of his soft lips on yours was like heaven.

“Why don’t you show her your magic wand!” a voice behind you and Kai yelled in your direction. The two of you broke apart, yet Kai’s hand remained on your cheek. Embarrassment crept up your neck and you could tell from Kai’s red ears that he was feeling the same way. He turned to where the voice came from, brows drawing together to form another dirty glare.

The rustling in the woods was more prevalent now and both you and Kai’s head snapped to the edge of the forest. Before your ears could even pick up on the growling, a large wolf jumped out from between the trees. Both you and Kai raced to your feet and he held a hand out to guide you behind him. You hugged your doll to your chest in fear. Besides his body being tense, Kai remained relatively calm.

The wolf growled and snapped at the two of you, its sharp teeth piercing the air as spit ran down the corners of its jaw. “Awe, he can’t even handle a single wolf… the Ash is going to smoke him out!” Members of the Collective laughed behind you, but Kai paid them no mind. He guided you slowly backwards and away from the edge of the forest.

Kai quickly glanced back at you and the way you trembled, terrified. “It must be hungry,” he said, focusing back on the wolf. Green swirls of magic wrapped around the two of you. “It probably smells the meat from the nearby butcher’s.”

“It wouldn’t kill us, right?” you asked with a shaky voice, already knowing how foolish the question was before finishing it. Kai looked over his shoulder at you again, his face the most serious you’ve seen it, “Make something scared and it’ll do just about anything to get rid of the feeling.”

Just as Kai turned his head back towards the wolf, it pounced at the two of you. Behind it, more wolves prowled out of the woods, snarling. You barely registered that the harrowing scream that filled your ears was your own before you were pushed to the ground.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion for once in your entire life. The members of the Collective who were snickering and poking fun at you and Kai jumped into action, spirals of green emerging from their fingertips. More of them piled out from the inn, along with Lamia. You don’t realize that a hand is grabbing your arm and lifting you to your feet before you’re being pushed out of the crossfire.

All you see is green. At least, at first.

Then, splatters of red cover your vision. The screams and cracking of bones fill your ears and bodies fly through the air. Hot tears run down your cheeks and you close your eyes. Then, there is complete and utter silence.

The silence lasts for a moment before all sound comes rushing back to you so fast it felt like your ears were bleeding. There was screaming and crying and more cracking of bones set into place. You opened your eyes to see that the once green pasture you danced in was covered in red—red so dark it was almost black, and disfigured bodies and torn limbs were everywhere.

You stood up from the mud, eyes scanning through the green in the air in search of Kai. When you found him, tending to one of his members whose leg was missing, you breathed a sigh of relief. He was covered in blood and viscera, but it looked like he was unharmed. Barely taking a step in his direction, nails dug into your arm, bringing about a sharp sting that you were all too familiar with.

Body swinging in the opposite direction of Kai, you came face to face with your mother. Her hand reached up to roughly grab your chin. “What have you done?!” She screamed at you.

You glanced around you, never hearing her this angry before. More tears slid out of your eyes and to the dirt below and you tried to talk around the lump in your throat. You took in the destruction all around you, at the dead wolves that were now being carried towards the butcher who stood a couple feet from you. His voice caught in the air, “...a lamb, yeah.” You looked at how many lives the Collective lost in a sheer matter of minutes—and how it was all your fault. “It… I—” you started.

“You brainless child!” Your mother’s hand striked you so hard across the face that you fell back down to the mud at your feet. “Do you know how bad this is for business? Members of the Collective are dead on my soil!” You held your searing cheek with the hand that wasn’t still clutching onto your straw doll as you looked up at your mother with tearful eyes.

“I… I didn’t m—”

“Shut up. Go. I never want to see your vile face again!” Lamia screamed, her wrinkled face turning as red as the sunset behind her. She pointed a shaky finger away from the inn. You stood up on weak legs, your knees shaking. “But—but, Mom—” you cried.

“Go!”

You gave her one last pleading look before taking off, stumbling over your own feet. Tears blurred your vision, but you didn’t need sight for the place you were running to. You could find Althea in the dark, bound and soundless, if you had to.

You pushed open the doors of the guild and fell to the floor just in front of the counter, startling Althea and the customer she was engaging with. Your chest heaved and your tears formed a puddled at your scraped and dirty knees. “S-She… They’re all…” Your whole body shook and you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence.

Althea rushed to you, taking you into her arms and completely abandoning her customer. You caught a glimpse of them from Althea’s chest and didn’t know what you saw… Scaly skin that caught the light before a clawed hand pulled the hood further over their face, maybe? Althea shushed you and rubbed comforting circles into your back. “It’s okay, my owlet, it’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”

Love is a very wretched thing. It lets in the rot and the maggots and the ash. But, you still couldn’t help scraping off the corruption and placing it gently in your heart anyway. You couldn’t let go of the thought that maybe it could be beautiful, that it could be worth the cracked skin.

Instead of your usual hiding spot under the counter next to where Althea worked, you were hidden away between shelves at the back of the guild, alone. A book sat open in your lap, but your mind was too distracted to read any of the words in it. You heard the soft pattering of feet along the hardwood and turned to the sound.

Kai stood before you, completely distraught and still covered in blood from the wolf attack.

You waited for him to speak, but he said nothing. You moved the open book in your lap to the side as you sat up. Your lips parted as you thought of something to say. “T-Thank you,” you said finally. “You saved my life.”

Kai’s eyes weren’t the warm brown that they were earlier. Something shifts in them and you swallow thickly. They were cold, lifeless. Kai just nodded and slumped down to the floor next to you. An awkward silence filled the air and you didn’t know what to say to resolve it.

“How did you find me?” you asked in a meek voice. Kai’s eyes shifted over to you from where they looked out the window to the dark sky. “I saw you run here,” he says plainly. “Followed you.”

Silence penetrates the air before he speaks again. “They kicked me out,” Kai says, his lifeless eyes still boring into you. “They kicked me out of the School of Pith.”

Your mouth falls open in shock and you rush to apologize, saying how it was all your fault, but Kai just shakes his head and looks away from you. He’s still in his Collective uniform, but now the light, forest-green of his velvet cloak seems dull and dark. It doesn’t help that it’s now splattered with blood. “I guess it was my last chance.”

There’s no inflection in his voice, nothing to show whether the result makes him sad or angry or even annoyed. His face is expressionless. The only hint to his inner turmoil is the way his fingers pull harshly at the seams of his dirty white pants. The tips of them are reddened, like he’s been at it for a while now.

Kai turned back to you and reached a hand up to gently rub his thumb along your bruised cheek. His gaze then dipped to the book on the floor. “What are you reading?”

You hand the book to him, the page opened onto the legend of the White Fawn that Althea told you about. Kai hummed, “You don’t really believe in all that stuff, do you? This myth?”

“You don’t?” you asked incredulously. “You have magic, but don’t believe in a white deer that brings about luck and fortune?”

For the first time that night, you manage to get Kai to chuckle. “I suppose you’re right…” he trailed. “I might not be the firmest believer in myths and legends, but I do know a lot about them. We learned about them at the school—more things than you’ll read about in any book.”

Kai glances at you and catches the way your eyes light up. A smile pulls at the corner of his lips. The light still isn't back in his eyes—and his smile doesn't reach them either—but, it’s a start. You look at him as if he just hung all the stars in the pitch black sky.

“You want me to teach you?” Kai asks, and you desperately nod your head.

[ kipo’s note . . . ] wow… a lot happened… you see why it had to be almost 8k words now?? lmaoo i had to set everything up! but tell me how you feel about it all!! what do you think about the faerie realm, or the myths of the forest that watches and the well of life? the white fawn and the prophecy of eternal winter??? lemme know all your thoughts, don’t be shy!!! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗺.𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

🏷️﹙ 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @hyukascampfire @xylatox @ghstzzn @izzyy-stuff @sunoosgfv @jihyokat @whosserina @jellymochii @innocygnet @sumsumtingz @riribelle @yeoningz @minaateez @beombunni @jiryunn @lvrs-street2mmorrow @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @usuallyunlikelyfox @blossommi @tinycatharsis

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tarotbyjam24 · 11 hours ago

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What does this person think of you ?

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Masterlist \pick a cards

Disclaimer: this is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so 🕊️

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Thankyou for stopping by let's dive in ☄️ Choose the pile you feel most drawn to 🧸

this reading is a Collab b\w @tarotbyjam24 and @tobari7x3 🧚🏻‍♀️✨

Pile 1. Pile 2. Pile 3.

Pile 1

Hello pile 1 , this person thinks of you as someone who can get somethings outta nothing. To them you're probably an easy going person. They may also think that you're mostly submissive in nature . They think you're good at balancing, moderation or managing things . For example you may like to drink but you're also someone who works out and meditates so this is the balance they appreciate about you . They may think that you've gone through so much that now you're becoming fragile you've been holding onto it for so long and you desire that someone else could hold it or do it for you . Probably you're trying hard in school. I'm also getting this line from Charlie Puth 's song see you again . We've come a long way without you my friend and I'll tell you all about it when I see you again . And and It's been a long day without you friend and I'll tell you all about it when I see you again . They may also think that you're trying to fit in when you're not supposed like you're supposed to be yourself gurlll. They may also think that you're connected to sprituality probably your chakras are open , aligned and active or you're working on your third eye and throat chakra. They think you may like to plan things before executing them even in your daily life you may like to make to do lists and tick it off when the day ends . They may also think that you're working on something right now for future and they may wanna lend you a hand in your work ? This person thinks you might need someone to help you and they're here for you :) probably you're thinking of traveling but you're not in the mood to go solo and this person is ready to go on trip with you . They may also think that you need to get outta your comfort zone and cross that self made boundary to see that there's so much in this world to see and explore. They may think that you need a change . You need to do the changes in yourife and be more go with the flow typa person instead of planning everything months before as it might not lead to the natural process of plans because you kinda manipulated events by planing them ? idk if that makes sense . Take this sentence only if it resonates otherwise let it fly . I'm getting very sagittarius vibe you might need to or wanna embody this zodiac's vibe. Also don't be afraid of falling on ground and being bruised . Those bruises are your experiences and those scars will always tell you that how far you've made. And how you've stood up again for yourself. That's all pile 1 Bbye bless you and love you .

Pile 2

read by @tobari7x3 💗

I'm getting, Pile 2 is in the procss of creating like, learning to create any form of art or maybe a new skill. You're not an expert at it, you're still learning and you have immense passion for it— at least that s your person’s point of view. They think your passion is like your wings to your being, and they believe that whatever ou are working hard to learn, your passion for it would lead you to success. Im getting this person enjoys your creations/ work and loves watching you in the process. I struggle in words, but I have this imagery in my head: Theyre excited and watching you work and your passionate bursts give them a feeling of deep admiration. Their eyes literally see you as the bright shining being, when watchin you work or talk about your work/art. In short, tey deeply admire your passion for your craft and you inspire them to thrive, to maybe try something new, go past fears and work hard. I feel like this person has seen you rise fro the ashes: I heard the word “Phoenix” in my head starting the reading, however, the second pull of cards are clarifying it. Theyve seen your darkest times… maybe you werent always the person youre today and faced struggles with being confident abut yourself and were afraid of doing what your heart desires for the fear of failure was holdingyou back from your passion. However, you broke through like a determined warrior, accepted your flaws and moved on to pursue the will of your heart. Yure a free spirited phoenix in their eyes Pile 2! They are proud of you and admire your story. You inspire them to break through their own fears.

Pile 3

Read by @tobari7x3 💗

Welcome pile 3! First of all, it was very prominent that your person struggles to communicate their feelings. They are calculative and even a little timid. I wonder if they do not want you to know what they think about you… First look at the spread, there is a color palette: Mostly blues, purple and a hint of yellow on every card from the first pull. Now that I notice, the yellows are either stars or a light source! And OMG! 3 major arcanas with Ace of Wands! With my limited experience with color symbolism in tarot, I can map out that this person perceives this connection as a spiritual light that leads them through their shadows and into somewhere high and profound. This connection makes them spiritually grow. I can sense some romantic undertones to their feeling(take as applies, might be a specific group of people). On the cards- Your arrival in their lives may have put an end to something and pushed them to look into themselves and fix old patterns. Eventually becoming the better version of themselves and starting a new beginning into a new era with this connection. They feel a deep spiritual bond to you, and yo make them take steps they really should. Reversed AOW tells me that this relationship is rather calm and lacks passion or isnt that energetic at the moment…very slow pace. “Let it be slow for the soul needs healing” I just heard that. I pulled 2 more cards: Youve made them learn crucial lessons about themselves. Overall, they view you as a spiritual mentor,friend and maybe even a lover(specific groups again, take as resonates). They are grateful to have you and this profound connection in their lives. I literally hear them say “thank you” hehe! Good luck lovely pile 3!!!

I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀Bless you and have a nice day

Loads of love , jam\gem

Exchanges : open , collabs for paps : open

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starkeysprincess · 16 hours ago

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Petals & Promises

rafe cameron x Kook fem!reader

SUMMARY: Rafe Cameron doesn’t do romance—until after that wild night at the party, when he starts showing up at your door with flowers. No words, just a smirk and a bouquet. It’s probably just a joke... or is it?

wc: 3,4k (I got carried away 😛)

WARNINGS: some angst, mainly fluff, (idk what else to add lmk)

Y/N was curled up on her couch, overwhelmed with the strenuous college work that she had to turn in till next week. It was quiet on Figure 8, The afternoon sunlight filtered through the window, casting a soft glow across the room. The stress inside of her was slowly building up while cautiously reading through her essay, making sure not to make one single mistake. She was a straight A student after all, and the only thing that mattered to her was having perfect grades. Meanwhile her friends were going out, partying, drinking, living their best lives, she was bed rotting and freaking out about her future, it was stupid really.

suddenly, she heard her phone ring and when she saw that it was her best friend Lila, she couldn't of have been happier. Immediately she picks up the phone:

L: "hey girlll, how are you?"

Y/N: "hey Lil, I'm finishing up my assignment, as always, ugh im literally about to pass out."

L: "okayyy perfect then, I have the perfect solution for you, you're coming to Rafe Camerons party today at 8. You seriously need to loosen up."

Y/N: "wait- what? Lil, you know I can-"

L: cya there!

*the phone Hangs up*

"Fuck...." you mumble to yourself and let out a sigh. But on the other hand, maybe listening to Lila and forgetting about school wouldn't be so bad at all? I mean, as long as you don't get wasted what could go wrong? Time passes and you get up to fancy yourself up. It feels so stupid to you, but on the other side you've never been to a party before and a feeling of excitement rushes through you. Therefore you do a full face of soft glam makeup, touching it up with a rosey pink color of gloss and curl your hair. The last touch was the outfit, for which you had decided to go with a pretty dark blue evening gown and a pair of louboutin heels. If you were being honest, this was the prettiest you've felt in a long time. It felt relieving to feel comfortable and beautiful in your own body again. You leave your house and start walking to Tannyhill. Once you get to your destination, you see a large crowd of people in front of the Cameron household. You step into the house, and boom—music shaking the walls, bodies everywhere, air thick with booze and something fruity. Before you can even process, Lila spots you.

“GIRL, FINALLY!” she stumbles over, nearly spilling her drink. “I was ’boutta send a damn search party. By the way you look JAW DROPPING”

“Thank you but you texted me two minutes ago.”

“And that was two minutes of suffering,” she says dramatically, shoving a cup into your hand. “Now drink.”

You sniff it. “What the hell is this?”

“Who cares? It’s alcohol.”

You take a sip—mistake. “Bro, are you tryna poison me?”

she cackles. “Lightweight. C’mon, we need shots.”

Fast forward—you're both gone.

You’re clinging to each other, half-dancing, half-tripping, screaming the wrong lyrics to some song. Your head spins, but in a fun way.The room spins. The lights blur into streaks of neon, and the bass vibrates through your chest like it's syncing with your heartbeat. You don’t know how long it’s been—minutes? Hours? Your head is heavy, your legs unsteady, and suddenly, Lila is gone. Panic flickers through the haze of alcohol. You push through the crowd, bumping into sweaty bodies, murmuring half-apologies. Your vision tunnels, and the edges of the world start to fade. Shit. You need air. You need to sit. Stumbling toward the wall, you brace yourself, blinking hard to clear your vision. The party keeps moving around you—people laughing, dancing, making out in dark corners—but it all feels distant, like you're underwater. But even through your fucked up vision and fuzzy head, you see and feel someone eyeing you down.

And then you see him.

Rafe Cameron.

He’s across the room, leaning against the counter, drink in hand, watching you. Not just looking—watching. His sharp blue eyes flicker under the dim lights, unreadable, intense. Your pulse stutters. Whether it's from the alcohol or the way he tilts his head slightly, like he’s debating something, you’re not sure. All you know is that everything else—the noise, the people, the chaos—fades into the background.

It’s just you and him.

Your legs give out before you can take another step. The world tilts violently, and the last thing you feel is the cold floor meeting your body. Distantly, voices blur together, someone laughs, music pulses through your skull. Then—warm hands. Strong arms wrapping around you before you hit the ground completely. The scent of cologne, sharp and clean, cuts through the alcohol haze clouding your brain. “Shit.” A deep voice, close. Your head lolls against something firm—a chest? A shoulder? You can barely process it, everything slipping in and out of consciousness like a bad dream. “Yo, is she good?” someone asks. “She’s fine,” the voice responds, low and controlled. “I got her.”

Then you’re moving. Lifted effortlessly, arms hooked under your legs and back. The warmth is grounding, but your mind is too fogged to fight it, to even think about what’s happening. Cool air kisses your burning skin as you’re carried outside. The music muffles behind closed doors, replaced by the sound of steady footsteps, the distant hum of crickets.

You try to mumble something, but it comes out as a slurred mess.

“Relax,” the voice says. “You’re safe.”

Safe. The word wraps around you, pulling you further into the darkness.

The first thing you notice is the warmth. Not just from the hoodie wrapped around you, but from the air itself—quieter, softer than the freezing night outside. The second thing is the scent—clean linen, expensive cologne, a faint trace of cigarette smoke.

You’re not at the party anymore.

Your head is still spinning, but the pounding bass, the suffocating crowd, the overwhelming chaos—it’s all gone. Replaced by something calmer. Safer. Blinking hard, you push yourself up slightly, your body weak and heavy, and that’s when you see him.

Rafe Cameron.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, head tilted slightly like he’s been watching you this entire time. But not in the way people usually say he does. There’s no arrogance, no sharp amusement. Just something unreadable. Something almost… gentle. His blue eyes flicker over your face, scanning, assessing. “You good?” Your throat is dry, but you manage to croak, “Where—?”

“My place,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You were out of it. I wasn’t about to leave you there.” The weight of those words settles in your chest. You were vulnerable—completely out of it—and instead of taking advantage, instead of leaving you behind, he brought you here. Safe. Taken care of.

You were confused, and on the other hand you were partially panicking, why would Rafe Cameron take you to his house?

“I—” You don’t even know what to say. Your hands clutch at the hoodie around you, only now realizing it’s his. The sleeves practically swallow your arms, the fabric drowning you in warmth. “You were shaking,” Rafe says like he’s reading your mind. “Figured you could use it.” Your stomach flips. Why is he like this?

You’ve heard the stories—Rafe Cameron is reckless. Selfish. Dangerous. But the guy sitting in front of you? He’s none of those things. Maybe it's just an illusion, maybe he just wants to get between your legs and leave you. He shifts, reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand, then holds it out to you. But when you try to grab it, your fingers tremble too much. You're unsure of wether you should trust him or not.

Rafe notices.

Without a word, he lifts the glass to your lips himself, his free hand cupping the back of your neck, steadying you. His touch is warm, careful, almost hesitant—like he’s afraid of hurting you. The moment stretches, something thick and heavy settling between you. When you finish, he pulls back just slightly, his thumb barely grazing your skin before he lets go. The loss of contact makes something tighten in your chest.

“You feeling okay now?” His voice is quieter now, softer.

You nod weakly. “Yeah… thanks.”

His lips press together, like he’s debating something. Then, finally, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“I don't want you to go there anymore.”

Your breath catches. “I—what?” Rafe lets out a small, breathy chuckle, almost like he can’t believe himself either. “You just… you don't belong at parties.” He glances away for a second, then back at you.

Your heart drops, unsure what he means and you swear you could feel your face heat up in embarrassment.

Your fingers tighten around the hoodie still wrapped around you, and you finally whisper, “Why?”

Rafe holds your gaze for a long moment, the air between you thick, heavy with something neither of you know how to name. Finally, he reaches out, fingers barely grazing your cheek, his touch featherlight. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“Because it’s you,” he murmurs. He stares you down with a neutral face expression. The embarrassment lingers, twisting in your chest.

Parties aren’t for you.

Rafe’s words replay in your mind, making you feel small. You tug his hoodie tighter around you, avoiding his gaze. He sighs, grabbing his keys. “C’mon. I’ll take you home.” The drive is quiet until he finally speaks. “You think I meant that in a bad way.” You hesitate. “Didn’t you?” His grip on the wheel tightens. “No. I meant… you don’t need that shit. The fake smiles, drunk assholes, guys looking at you like—” He stops, jaw clenching. “Like you’re something to mess with.”

Your heart stumbles.

“I just—” He sighs. “It’s not you.” The weight in your chest shifts. Not gone, but lighter. When he pulls up to your house, he reaches out, tugging the hood over your head gently. His fingers graze your jaw, slow, careful. “Get inside safe,” he murmurs. You nod. “Thanks… for everything.” As you step out, you don’t look back.

But if you did, you’d see him still watching. Still waiting.

Two days pass, but you can’t shake the way Rafe looked at you that night. The softness in his voice, the weight in his eyes. Like he saw you differently. Like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

You tell yourself it was nothing. That it was just a moment. That Rafe Cameron doesn’t do things like that.

But then— The doorbell rings.

When you open it, he’s there.

Standing on your porch, dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans, looking almost nervous. And in his hands—a bouquet. Not just any bouquet, but the kind that looks like it came straight from some overpriced florist. Deep red roses, white lilies, wrapped in a silk ribbon. Your breath catches.

“Uh…” You blink at him, words failing you. “Are you lost?” Rafe huffs a small, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “No.” He glances down at the flowers, then back up at you. “These are for you.”

You just stare. Because—what? After a beat, you slowly take them, fingers brushing his as you do. The petals are soft, the scent rich and overwhelming. “Rafe…”

“I know,” he cuts in, running a hand through his hair. “This is… not what you expected.” You nod, still too stunned to process. He exhales sharply, like he’s bracing himself. Then, finally—

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

Your heart stutters. Rafe looks away for a second, like this is harder for him than it should be. When he speaks again, his voice is lower, rougher.

“That night? Seeing you like that? It fucked me up.” His blue eyes meet yours, and there’s nothing cocky in them. Just honesty. Raw and unfiltered. “I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, I started caring. And it scared the shit out of me.”

You swallow hard, your grip tightening around the flowers.

He takes a small step closer, voice dropping even lower. “But you looked at me like I was good that night. Like I was worth something.” He scoffs under his breath, shaking his head. “And I wanted to be that. For you.”

Your chest tightens, your pulse pounding. Rafe runs a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “Look, I don’t do this shit. I don’t—” He gestures vaguely, like this is beyond him. “But I can’t not do this with you.”

Another step. Closer.

“So let me take you out. A real date.” His gaze softens, voice barely above a whisper now. “Let me prove I can be good for you.”

The world narrows to just him. His eyes, his voice, the plea hidden beneath it all.

And suddenly, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.

Because this? This feels real.

#rafe cameron #outerbanks #obx fanfiction #obx fic #drew starkey #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe

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zaldritzosrose · 3 days ago

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Like Real People Do (Jacaerys x Noble!Reader)

We are back with a milestone request from my darling @legitalicat, and I also gifting this to her as a birthday treat! See the request ask here!

Song - Like Real People Do by Hozier

Summary: You were like a beacon of comfort and normality for Jacaerys. His title didn't seem to weigh as heavy when he was with you. You made him feel 'normal', whatever that word meant. You made him feel like he was not a prince, not heir to the throne, but a real person.

TW: She/Her pronouns, afab reader, noble reader, no specific descriptions of reader, all fluff, this is sickeningly sweet and we may need a dentist after, Jacaerys being a gentleman.

Words: 3121

I had a thought, dear, however scary, about that night, the bugs and the dirt…

You hadn’t noticed it immediately. But Jacaerys had begun to spend a lot of time simply watching you. Even doing the most mundane of things.

The daughter of a noble house sworn to his mother, you now spent a lot of time on Dragonstone. Following your father as he swore his sword to Rhaenyra’s cause. You would accompany your father whenever he would venture to the island.

At first, you had stuck to his side as much as possible. Rhaenyra being made heir had prompted your father to begin to school you in more of a political light as the eldest daughter, so travelling to Dragonstone to watch your new Queen had become a source of fascination for you.

And the more time you spent on Dragonstone, the more time you began to spend in the prince’s company. Jacaerys was usually at his mother’s side, so for the most part the encounters were more formal.

But soon your father’s visits became more frequent which meant you made more effort to find more comfort and familiarity with the island.

Spending time on the beaches over in the castle. Simply walking and taking in the scenery around you.

This is what Jacaerys noticed first. And it fascinated him to no end.

Why were you digging? What did you bury, before those hands pulled me from the earth?

As the war for the throne began to pick up traction, your father was occupied more and more. And he encouraged you to spend just a little more time exploring the island.

Today was one of those trips, wandering through the rocky hills as the sea air whipped at your hair.

But you weren’t alone this time. Too lost in the fresh, salty air, you didn’t notice the figure following a few paces behind you.

You descended to the beach, taking your shawl and setting it down to protect your gown from the sand. You absentmindedly drew patterns in the sand, letting the sound of the wind and waves wash over you.

But as the weather calmed, you heard another set of feet crunching in the sand. You moved to stand, immediately on edge.

Before you could say a word, Jacaerys spoke.

“Apologies, my lady, if I startled you?” he said gently, and you could see the genuine concern in his eyes.

You took a breath, brushing down your skirt before smiling.

“Oh, not to worry, my prince,” you tried smooth down your hair as you spoke, immediately regretting not braiding it for your walk.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment. This was the first time you had been truly alone with Jacaerys. Every other encounter had been somewhere within the walls of the castle, surrounded by any number of other people.

“I, uh, I apologise for my appearance, I was not expecting to be accompanied…” you mumbled, simply wanting to fill the silence somehow.

Jacaerys only chuckled. Maybe he should have made his presence known sooner? But he had found the way you took in your surroundings so interesting to simply observe. How relaxed you seemed, as if you’d shed the mask of your noble title. Something he wished he could do himself.

“Nothing to apologise for, I am the one that disturbed your solitude.”

You were surprised by how relaxed you felt, now that the initial surprise had dissipated. Maybe it was being out of the castle, out in the fresh air with no expectations for how you acted.

“You are welcome to join me, my prince?” you asked, silently hoping he would agree.

The prince smiled, there were no duties calling him back to the castle, though he likely should have been doing something. Maybe a bit of respite from the castle walls was what he needed?

“I would love that, my lady.”

You leaned down, spreading your shawl out as wide as you could so there was space enough for both of you. You settled yourself back down, returning your gaze to the sea before you. Jacaerys removed his cloak, doing as you had with your shawl. A little sand wasn’t going to do any harm.

As he sat, he took the chance to look at you, as he did whenever you entered a room. He took in just how lovely the sun was as it shone through your hair, how it began to illuminate your profile like a halo.

But what he enjoyed most, was how normal it felt to just sit beside you. He didn’t feel like a prince in this very moment, and it was thanks to you.

Of course, it helped that he truly did find you beautiful.

I will not ask you where you came from, I will not ask and neither should you…

How many hours passed, neither of you knew. But the weather soon took a turn, the sea air growing cold and the wind now more than a tolerable breeze.

Jacaerys noticed the way you tried to hide your shivers and took it upon himself to suggest you both return indoors.

“Shall we return? Dragonstone’s beaches can get quite cold in the evenings.” Jacaerys said softly, standing up and holding a hand for you to take.

And you took it gladly, letting him pull you to standing. Before you could even bend down to grab your own shawl, Jacaerys lifted his cloak to drape over your shoulders.

You kept your head down, trying desperately to hide the blush you knew had begun to bloom on your cheeks.

“Thank you, my prince. We should be quick then, so you do not freeze?” you teased, pulling his heavy cloak a little higher up on your shoulders.

Jacaerys nodded, grabbing your shawl from the ground and holding out his arm for you to take, his own cheeks growing pink as you took it.

“Please, would you call me Jacaerys?”

He didn’t miss the surprise on your face. You may have spent a lot of time in his presence, but using his name still felt extremely intimate. But the almost pleading look in his eyes was hard to ignore.

“I can try, I think. Though it will take some getting used to, so forgive me if I forget to,” you answered, hoping that was enough for now.

It earned you a soft smile, his appreciation clear.

He knew your upbringing would have been as ingrained in your psyche as his own. Calling a royal by their name would likely seem incomprehensible. Just as if he were to use your name, it would have felt quiet unusual.

But names were personal, intimate. Names had no status, no titles. And you made him forget his title with just your presence.

You both began to walk, your arm safely nestled through the crook of his elbow. You were halfway back to the castle when a thought crossed your mind.

“And mayhaps you should call me by my name then? Instead of my lady?” you asked, feeling a little disappointed as you saw the castle come into view in the distance.

Jacaerys smiled. He had heard your name whenever you were announced, a name as beautiful as the woman who owned it. It was only fair for him to use yours if he’d asked you to use his.

“That sounds fair. It can be something we allow for moments much like we shared today?”

He let his question linger. Silently asking for there to be more days like today, without having to embarrass himself asking.

“Our little secret…Jacaerys.”

Jacaerys felt his chest tighten at the sound of his name on your lips. The way you said it so gently as though you were still unsure about using it.

The rest of the walk to the castle continued in silence, but Jacaerys couldn’t take his eyes off you for most of it. There was something about you that kept drawing him in, something that made him desperate to keep you at his side.

You gave him a sense of normality, yes. But there was something else. Something that made his heart beat a little faster whenever you entered a room.

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do…

In the days that followed, Jacaerys’ mind kept returning to you. To sitting beside you on the beach, to the sound of his name on your lips, to the feel of your hand on his arm.

He tried to ignore the fluttered feeling in his stomach whenever he thought of you, but it was more than a challenge. His cloak still held the faintest scent of your perfume, which he had begun accustomed to being able to smell whenever he wore it.

You had returned home with your father the night before, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before you were back. The trips your father made were frequent, which he was now eternally grateful for.

He had stood at the castle walls as your ship left, still remembering the kiss to his cheek that you had snuck in when your respective parents were otherwise engaged.

A kiss that was still in his mind now as he tried to read the pile of parchments in front of him. Not a single word he read seemed to hold in his mind.

Every thought he had would somehow return to you.

I knew that look, dear, eyes always seeking, was there in someone that dug long ago…

You waited in anticipation for your father to tell you when his next trip to Dragonstone would be. There was no use in hiding it, you wanted to see Jacaerys again.

There was a sense of safety with him, you weren’t afraid to relax around. As he was with you. Whether it was only friendship, or something soon to be more, you didn’t know. But the mere thought of him gave you butterflies every time.

Each time you would see your father handed a letter, you hoped it would be a summons to Dragonstone again. But a couple of weeks went by and there was nothing.

You would go to sleep each night, silently wishing that the next morning would bring a letter.

Until one morning, your wishes were answered. Your father came down to breakfast, parchment in hand and looked immediately to you.

“Ready for another journey to our Queen, sweet daughter?” he asked, already chuckling at the fervent nod you gave him.

What you did not know, was that your father was more than aware of your affection for the prince, and he was more than supportive of it. To be in the prince’s good graces, was to be in the Queen’s and your father had long cemented himself as a pillar of loyalty for Rhaenyra.

The journey was planned for that evening, so you had no hesitation in hurriedly finishing your breakfast and leaving to pack your things. All your father’s journeys to Dragonstone were a week or two at best, so preparation was key.

So I will not ask you why you were creeping, in some sad way, I already know…

The ship arrived late into the night, the servants helping you, your father and the other members of your household collect your belongings and move them inside.

The castle was quiet, late enough that you were sure most of the royal family was already asleep. The sailings were not all that long, but there was little about them that you enjoyed. Yet, despite how tired you felt, you rarely found rest after one of those journeys.

You were all shown to your rooms, but you made no move to settle down. Even when exhaustion began to settle in your bones, you were a restless soul.

And Dragonstone at night? Well, that was something you had yet to experience to its fullest advantage.

The large castle seemed even grander in the darkness. The only light were the sconces on the walls and the chamberstick in your hand. You wandered the halls, paying mind to the rooms you knew were off limits no matter the time of day.

Your aimless wandering brought you to the library. Aside from the beach, it was one of your favourite places to visit. The tall bookcases that seemed to go on endlessly, the smell of old books. There was something so comforting about it all, despite it being far grander than the library in your own home.

But just like the beach all those weeks ago, you were not alone.

You couldn’t see him, tucked into a corner and hidden by the crammed bookcases. But Jacaerys had been in the library for most of the evening. The longer the war between his mother and uncle dragged on, the heavier the title of heir to the Iron Throne had begun to weigh on him.

And Jacaerys had never been more conscious of what others thought of him.

It was only when you heard the soft scrape of a chair did you realise you weren’t the only one hidden in the rows of dusty tomes.

“Is someone there?” you called, clutching your shawl around your shoulders.

When no one answered, you began to believe your mind was playing tricks on you. Until you heard some very familiar footsteps.

“It is just me,” Jacaerys responded, appearing from his corner with a soft smile.

You breathed a sigh of relief, walking closer to him.

“Jacaerys, I thought my mind was playing me for a fool, hearing things!” you laughed, setting the chamberstick down on the table beside him.

You took the chance to look him over. Maybe it was the candlelight, but he looked far more tired than usual.

“Are you well?” you asked, trying to keep your concern polite still.

Jacaerys sighed, his shoulders visibly sagging. Your presence was a comfort, a safe space where he could let his mask slip.

He sat down in a nearby chair. He was no longer a prince; he was simply a young man with the weight of seven kingdoms on his shoulders. As if by instinct, you moved closer to him.

Aside from the goodbye kiss to his cheek and the occasional soft touch of your hands, there hadn’t been much physical contact between you.

But you could immediately sense that he simply needed…something.

So I will not ask you where you came from, I would not ask and neither would you…

Your hand went to his shoulder first, standing between the chair in which he sat and the table. The touch was gentle, giving him the chance to pull away if he wished.

But Jacaerys didn’t want to. With you, he wasn’t a Targaryen prince, he wasn’t his mother’s heir.

He was just Jacaerys.

His hand raised to hold on to yours. Lacing his fingers and simply holding on to you.

How could he tell you how he was feeling? Would you think less of him? Would you think him weak?

But you were perceptive, and you could see the maelstrom of emotions behind his eyes.

“Jace…you can talk to me, you know that?” you asked softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

You only called him Jace when emotions were high. The last time had been when you had both said goodbye.

He sighed again. Why wouldn’t the words just come out?

“I…sometimes I wish I wasn’t the heir,”

Jacaerys hurried through the words, his voice barely a whisper but enough to hear.

Your face softened, though concern lingered in your gaze.

“And why is that?”

Your head tilted down to look at him as you spoke. Your hand moving from his shoulder to his cheek. The reasons weren’t something you were unaware of, but you knew he needed to talk it through.

“There are times I wish I could simply…be. To be able to live without the shadow of the throne at my back…”

His eyes closed as he leaned into your palm. With you, he felt like that could be possible. Since that day on the beach, you had respected his wish to not be seen as a prince. For his title to mean nothing whenever you were alone.

To let him be just a real person.

His eyes met yours and a soft smile tugged at his lips.

“I feel like that with you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, butterflies tingling in your stomach. Gentle waves of affection washing over you.

You made him feel safe. You made him feel comfortable. You made him happy.

“Jace…”

No more words left your lips as he pulled you closer. Wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his under your chin. You hesitated for only a moment before you returned his embrace. Resting your cheek on the crown of his head.

“You make me feel real,” he whispered, his voice muffled against your neck.

You were sure he could have felt the rapid thump of your heartbeat now. But his was beating just the same.

The words hung heavy between you. The feelings between you both had been unspoken since the beach. Though it was only a few weeks, the tension had only grown more with separation.

You didn’t know what to say, but you realised you didn’t need to say anything. Your lips pressed to his curls, tightening your arms around his shoulders.

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. We should just kiss like real people do…

The warmth of your lips on his skin was like a wave of calm. A balm to his tortured mind. Your mere presence seemed to hold the ability to fix his problems.

One of the hands on your waist moved to hold your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to your palm.

But when his eyes met yours this time, there was only one thing he wished to do.

The kiss was gentle, tentative. But every ounce of love and affection that he held for you into it. The arm around your waist pulling you ever tighter into his hold.

And when the kiss broke, your leaned down to rest your forehead against his. Everything felt different, in the best way.

He was yours and you were his. For just a moment, Jacaerys could pretend he was just a normal person. He was happy and loved for who he was.

And you silently vowed to make it so he would feel that way forever.

I could not ask you where you came from. I could not ask and neither could you…

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. We could just kiss like real people do.

Jace Taglist:

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @sylasthegrim

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @multyfangirl

(if you want to be added/deleted, let me know)

#follower milestone #milestone celebration #jacaerys velaryon #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys velaryon x reader #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon

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