#Chapter: [Moonlit Moments]

[umbralsound-xiv]

The First To Remember.

The night had been an uneasy one, Sayuri vaguely tossing and turning in her sleep as if she struggled to get comfortable without making too much of a fuss about it. A prolonged stillness lingered, the only movement she offered being an irregular twitch here and there - seemingly having finally found her peace nestled against Eir. Only that she hadn't.

Her breathing grew shallow, the sound of it almost sounding strangled - a choked whine leaving her as her features contorted in clear discomfort. With it came the usual stir of her aether, accompanied by the pain its activity yet caused. Sayuri's body tensed up to the point of trembling, the arm that laid across Eir's frame to curve around to his side tightening its embrace significantly while her other arm's hand let her clawed fingertips sink into the mattress.

Ice began to emerge upon the Seeker's frame, dotting up across various areas upon her body with the most notable patches being upon her arms and neck. The more the element began to show, the more the Seeker's pained sounds increased, both in volume and frequency.

Soft plump pillows and silken sheets had drifted Eir into an easy sleep, cradling his now wife in his arms. The first sound of discomfort was responded to with a small pull closer; still asleep, it was simply something he did reflexively, now. But as her distress grew, the gentle cold he'd found comfort in now became a biting signal; a warning - Not for any displeasure to her aether, but a herald to the unpleasantries that often visited her in the dark. Eir is wrested from his slumber, brow knitting at the sudden wakefulness only to furrow deeper at the sound of her distress, he holds her all the more close, cold be damned. "Shhh… Shh… I am here, i am here…" Quiet, uttered words of reassurance that often calmed her, though his sleepless silver eyes now moved for her own, worried.

Nightmares, again... I was not unused to them. They plagued both of us, and with all we had been through, that was hardly a surprise. I am only glad i can offer her comfort... That she need not endure them alone.

The otherwise pinned back ears offered the faintest twitch in response to his voice, even if she didn't fully seem to stir - not until a whimper turned into a faint cry and her mismatched eyes finally batted open as she drew a deep, struggling breath in response to the pang of agony that shot through her, arms withdrawing to instead wrap around herself as she curled up in some attempt to press against the areas that hurt even if she was unable to, due to the sheer amount of them. Tears welled up in her eyes, both from the pain and that which caused it, coaxing the faintest sob from her.

The suddenness of it all and subsequent tangle of limbs as she retreated and he reached for her still ends with him sitting, having pulled himself up and around her, over her; cradled in his embrace as she curled in on herself. Eir rocks her gently, a careful hand reaching for her tears. "You are safe…" He speaks, to remain present in her ears, as soft and gentle as his motions, "It was just a dream… Just a bad dream…" Eir visibly wilts at the sound of a sob, pulling her in a little further but not so far she couldn't see his face. Moonlight had poured into the room from a silk-veiled window, it had illuminated them enough to see, even if not by so much. "Shhh…."

Her eyes shut anew, pinching shut while he brushes aside the tears that are on the verge of turning into droplets of ice. Her body leans against him, ice-clad arms cramming in between her stomach and thighs in her curled up position. Each breath is inhaled shakily and exhaled heavily, body offering the occasional flinch as a particularly sharp stab of pain assaults her. Sayuri's head turns to press against Eir's frame, seeking out his offered comfort with slight desperation.

Head dropping to settle atop her own, he kisses her crown, one hand raising to slowly rub at the base of her ear, while the other that cradled her more closely seeks to brush where ice met skin at her shoulder. "Breathe, love… I know it hurts." Eir's very words were tinged with sadness; there was nothing he could do to take the pain away, and the best he could do was dampen it. "You are safe…"

Sayuri's ears twitch faintly, her head pressing up against his - taking solace in the closeness he gave her. She fought to correct her breathing, and despite her own distress.. she withdraws an arm from it's captured spot, raising a shaky hand up to him to gently curl it against his head at the sorrow in his tone. "..I--.. mh.. o-okay.." She mumbles, not sounding particularly convincing - considering her sentence barely left her.

Eir turns his head into the touch of her hand, smiling as much as he could muster. Skin prickled and the cold biting more than comfortable, if it hurt he never showed it. "You are…" He encourages, shifting her so she sat a little less horizontal. "…We are here. On our honeymoon… In Thavnair. Together, just you and me." Soft, warm whispers are replaced with a kiss to her fingers, though it's hard for him to hide the worry in his expression as he did. This was much worse than usual, and he clearly knew it.

Something felt... Wrong. Her nightmares are frequent enough that i am used to their severity, but i do not recall the last time they were so... Bad. Her aether cannot be helping matters. Her ice is always present in difficult moments, but when it pains her...? ...I wish there was more i could do than simply hold her and tell her it was going to be alright...

A nigh incomprehensible mumble left Sayuri, but it certainly sounded as if she echoed Eir's words. With twitchy fingers, she sought to cup his cheek and gently brush her thumb along it. A sharp flinch signals another, worse stab of pain, the ice upon her person becoming more jagged in response even if she did her utmost to calm her volatile aether, which seemed to have very little intent to listen to her commands.

"Hey---! Hey…" Eir sounds half panicked at the flinch, looking over her with worried eyes. "I have you, I---…" Eir swallows, briefly looking over the room for anything that might help. "…I am not going anywhere. I promise. I am here, always. No matter how bad it gets." His words were a whispered oath, as he set his head to her own. "Breathe, love. Talk if you need to. I am here, however i am needed…"

The panic in his voice, however slight, is definitely not lost on her. She forcefully pulls herself from the curled up position she had held, stretching out her legs and moving her arms to wrap them around him a touch awkwardly, refusing to settle her icy forearms anywhere near him and keeping them stretched out behind him. "..H-hurts.." The word is a whispered whine, her head pushing back against his. "..A-.. l-lot.."

"I know… I know. You have had a fright, love. But it is okay. It is okay…" He doesn't care that the ice is pointed, embracing her fully in hope that soothing her mental distress will help with her physical affliction. "I love you… I love you…" He swallows the waver that creeps up his throat, but something steels him. "…I will not let anything hurt you…" Slowly rubbing at her ear, he aims to soothe her, cradling her all the while.

I... ...I would try, at least. Were someone to come for her, i would fight until my last breath. I promised. I promise i will never leave.

She allows herself to sink against him in an attempt to relax, her breathing slowly but surely beginning to turn more normal, if not a touch heavier for the strain. Her eyes remain shut for the time being, head slightly canting into his palm in response to the ear rub. ".. I l-love you.." She echoes back, her elbows lightly squeezing around his sides in her awkward embrace.

Turning his head, he settles a gentle kiss to her forehead, not stopping the affectionate rub at her ear for a moment. "I love you… So much." The soft curl of his lips against her skin is felt, where a quiet, more relieved sigh lingers as she seems to steady. "My wife. My Moon…" He gazes to the window, watching her namesake in the sky, a little further beyond over her; beyond midnight. "…Happy Namesday."

...I had plans, this sun. Her namesday. The first she would remember proper, having had the date stolen away from her for so long. I wanted it to be... Special. ...I had intended to wait, but now just felt... Right.

The ice upon her person slowly begins to thaw in the heat, and with Sayuri's inability, or unwillingness, to attempt to control her aether to aid in it's dismissal, she is simply left to wait for it to disappear on it's own. With the jagged edges less sharp, she finally moves her arms to wrap them around him, albeit carefully. Her ears twitch faintly at his words, a slow exhale leaving her. ".. W-what a.. start.. t-to it.." She mumbles.

"…But it is just the start. Just the start." Embracing her, Eir shuffles on the bed to face the window, bathed fully in the moonlight. Though not wearing a thread, the silk sheets are still half covering him; he seeks to wrap the remainder around the both of them, comforted by the softness of the fabric. He takes a breath… And some waver steals his words, as though anxious, unsure. It takes only one look at Sayuri in her state; teary eyed and curled around him, laced with jagged frost… But he begins. It is soft, and barely more than a whisper, but Eir begins to sing; a lullaby-like melody in Thavnairian tongue. All the while, the hands settle at her shoulders, slowly brushing at the edges of the ice in a hope to aid in dismissing it. His eyes don't dare look to hers through fear he'd stop if he caught her gaze, fixated on the moon above.

Sayuri keeps herself clung to him as he shuffles about, the only movement she offers being to place herself a touch more comfortably and further nestle herself against him. Her eyes peel open as the foreign words in shape of song grace her ears, quietly listening to him as he peels away the ice upon her shoulder, the skin slightly reddened beneath where it had just clung to. She seems to have been taken a little off-guard at the signing, but swiftly sinks herself against him with a drawn-out exhale once the surprise settles.

A verse continues; it isn't called out loudly, a song for her ears only. Very gently aiding her with the ice, each removed lump is settled off and away, though he's careful not to force it. He pulls the sheets over her shoulders to embrace her, head nudging briefly to her own as he continues, a free hand seeking her own; to run a thumb over her knuckles and settle over the digit that held the ring.

Her own hand begins to peel at the ice clinging to her arms, much less gently than Eir did, certainly. It abandons the frost as his hand seeks it, gently seeking to coil her fingers around his while her other arm pulled her a little closer to him. Her ears flick faintly at the sound of his voice, even if she did not understand a single word that left his lips.

In that moment, he simply held her. Slowly swaying ever so slightly, each verse a memory. He'd practiced it silently, mouthing the words when she wasn't looking, but it had been some time since he'd sang it, however quietly. He fills his lungs…. And hesitates, as the song draws to a close… And finishes the last two lines in Eorzean. "…So look to the skies and the moon above; It reminds me of me and you, my love. As sure as day follows night, and night before day; I am here with you always, and always i will stay." As the song drifts, the silence lingers, and Eir is quick to divert his gaze from the window, from her; anywhere that sees him able to dismiss the red at his cheeks even in this low light.

It... Had been so long since i had sung for someone... I dare not even think the amount of cycles that had passed since. ...But i hope it helped, in some small way.

The lines in a tongue she definitely did understand made her ears twitch twice before tilting back. Had she been able to feel warmth, she certainly would have in this very moment, her arm tightening further around him to tug herself closer while her hand squeezed his. Her head shift enough for her lips to graze his chest, settling a soft, chilly peck upon his skin.

His skin prickles; though the heat of Thavnair and the cold of Sayuri waged a war over the temperature, the small, soft affection is enough to send a little shudder dancing over his skin. Finally steadying himself enough to take a breath and break the silence, his eyes look for her own in the dark. "I… Planned to do so tonight, to sing for you. I… Did not know what to get you as a gift. You could buy anything you ever wanted. A meal would be perhaps… Too daunting. So i…" He looks away again, fleeing to a dark corner of the room. "…Wanted to give you a memory, instead. To keep with you, always."

She gazed up at him, one ear remaining tilted while the other straightened itself. While she had certainly calmed down, it was clear that she still held some discomfort, her breathing remaining on the heavier side for the time being. ".. I would.. treasure anything.. you gave me.." She murmurs, leaning her head down to nudge it against him faintly. ".. I will.. treasure this.. Thank you, my love."

His smile warms as her head brushes to his own, hands in hers. "…This is your sun. Yours. The first of many happy namesdays to come." He plants a kiss on her cheek, soft and sweet. "…We could do anything, or nothing. I care not so long as you smile."

A faint, weary hum leaves her, a small smile managing to take to her lips as he kisses her cheek. ".. When you.. are with me.. how can I not?" She murmurs, squeezing his hand.

His eyes find hers then, even in what little light shone, he could faintly see their hues. Slowly, softly, his lips brush against her own, reminiscent of the first kiss they shared, one hand in her own, the other slowly returning to her shoulder to remove the ice.

She stretches herself up with some strained effort to meet his lips with her own, the agony and terror which had previously been in her eyes forced down by affection for the Viera, even if the former two were not quite gone yet. Thavnair's heat serves well to aid Eir in his task, as the half-melted ice is peeled away with more ease now that she had mostly calmed down.

Eir works to remove all he could from her form with the same gentleness he'd kissed her with, more of an act of affection rather than the desperation he'd done it with previously. "…I am here, my love." Reaching to caress her cheek, he quietly asks. "…If there is anything i can do, you need only ask."

Sayuri's head tilts into his palm, a soft sigh leaving her as she nuzzles her head against it. ".. Mmh.. You.. already are.."

Slowly tracing his thumb over her cheek, he smiles, leaning to peck her on the lips again. "Which part? The ice? The singing? Having you close? Kissing you?" Eir beams, "Or all of the above?"

Her ears offer a faint but joyous wiggle in response to the peck, a small, weary smile resting on her lips. "All." She murmurs. ".. I didn't.. know you could sing.."

"…You have caught me only once, i think. I did not hear you return into the room. But suppose i was not singing for very long." Shyly holding her gaze, he admits, a little bashful. "…It is not my greatest talent, but i am glad it was enjoyed. My plan was to… Sing later. Perhaps after a sun full of lovely little things of your choosing, when we would return here for the night, but… I think that you, perhaps, needed it now. We need not go anywhere should you wish… This sun, it is entirely of your choosing. What would you like?"

".. O-oh.. I-.. mh.. Sorry.. my head feels.. a little off." She mumbles. "..I forgot." She huffs at her own forgetfulness, nudging her head into his hand anew. ".. I like it." Her smile grows a little wider, eyes lidding ever so slightly. "..I-.. I am not sure I.. can make that decision right now.." Her gaze lowers a touch, offering a somewhat accusing stare at a tiny fleck of ice clinging to her bicep.

"Then you need not make one." He follows her gaze, making an attempt to dismiss the small fleck with a brush of his hand. "…It is late, still. A rare time the city is so peaceful…" Eir slowly reclines to the side, slumping into the pillows; taking Sayuri with him in a gentle embrace. "And i am in no rush to get out of bed… Unsurprisingly. Even if we do not sleep. We will have plenty of time for rest, later."

Sayuri sinks into the pillows with him, dragging herself closer to him in the process. She simply lays there for a moment, ear slowly tilting back as her gaze wanders his frame. "..You.. did not get hurt, did you..?"

"No… No. You did not hurt me, love. You were cold, but it is nothing compared to how it would be not to hold you." His arms loosely wrap around her, allowing her to move if she needed, covers hitched to his chest. "Even if you did, you would not have meant to. Much as you would blame yourself…"

Her ears flatten a touch, opting to pull herself closer to him instead. ".. Just.. making sure.." She murmurs, settling her head against him. ".. And yes. I would."

"I know. That does not mean you should." Eir tucks her a little closer, head buried in the pillows. "…I cannot imagine you want to try sleeping again so soon, but i am here if you wish to. I… Do not know what manner of horrors visited you in your sleep. But i will always be here waiting, for when you wake."

She shook her head faintly. A small frown takes to her features, her arms tightening somewhat protectively around him as she keeps herself close. "..Compound.." A single word, something which explains so much and yet so little, considering the wide array of horrors that happened within those walls.

...Of all the horrors she has endured, this one i understand the most... To think such a horrible place exists. To think she... She came back for me there. Knowing how it haunts her. How it plagues her memories, i almost feel guilty, and yet... I know she would have never done anything different.

"Oh, love…" He embraces her tightly, arms wrapped around her, hand lacing through her hair to gently rub at her ear to offer some form of comfort; anything he could manage. "…Sometimes when i sleep. I find myself there, too. But not this sun…" Eir quietly fills his lungs, exhaling a waver of a sigh. "…You deserve a happy life, Sayuri. I will see that it happens. I promise."

She buries her head against him in response to the rub, exhaling a slow sigh while her arms squeeze around him. ".. I know you will." She murmurs. "..And I will do my best.. to return it."

"Then you must always be doing your best. I am always happy with you." Eir beams, leaning to kiss the crown of her head. "…I did have a few ideas this sun. We can do all, some, or none of them. I just…" He pauses, if only to give her a small squeeze. "…Want your first namesday in memory to be a nice one, no matter how it started. A poor night does not make for a poor sun."

Sayuri's ears wiggle softly, her head pushing up to meet the kiss gently. ".. Mmh? What did you have in mind..?" Her head tilts slightly, gaze lingering upon him. ".. It will be. You're here."

"…If we are not to sleep… We can watch the sun rise…" Through Eir's idle suggestions, he slowly combs his fingers through her hair, smiling faintly as his gaze met her own. "I could braid your hair with the flowers we picked yestersun. Then, if you feel like going out, we can go to the market. Perhaps a persimmon to share for breakfast?" Eir pauses then, thinking. "…Then, a walk. To the beach, maybe. We could dance, perhaps take a few things for a picnic?" A smile, then. "…I could carry you there. Later, we can watch a performance. Or visit a perfumery, or the markets again. And when we are home… Well. I was going to sing for you, and…" Eir trails off, leaving something unsaid. "…We can do as much or as little. I would be happy staying in bed, too!" Eir chuckles softly, humming.

Her head leans back slightly as his fingers comb through her hair, ears twisting and turning slightly as she listens to his suggestions - a soft smile settling on her lips in response. ".. It all sounds very lovely. I.. can't promise how much energy I will have, but.. I'd like to try it. All of it."

I promise you, Sayuri... I will make this sun a happy one. I will do all i can to ensure it is so... This sun, and every single one that follows.

#Muse: [Eir] #Duet: [Winter Moon] #Chapter: [Moonlit Moments] #FFXIV #IC #Writing #Snippet

[watsittoyah]

Along Came A Spider…2099

Warnings-Sexual content, sex dreams, time travel, oral sex, rough sex, fang play, size kink, and slight blood play.

Chapter 1- Don’t I know you?

As you lay in the middle of your king size bed, you feel a dip by your feet. “Mi Corazon?” You hear his soft voice call out to you and you slowly stir. “Hmm?” You sit up on your elbows and see a large figure crouched at the foot of your bed.

“Baby? Did you get your food? I put it in fridge for you.” You say with a yawn as you sit up fully in the bed. He gently pushes you onto your back and he crawls between your thighs. “Thank you, Mi Corazon. I’ll get it later, I’m sorry for waking you up.” He moved one of your curls that happened to escape your scarf and tucks it behind your ear. “Issokay.” You yawn and wrap your arms around his thick waist. “Did you save some people tonight?”

He nods and leans down, sniffing your neck and resting his weight against you. You feel his arousal which wakes you up fully. “Mmm, tell me about it.” You whisper as you feel his teeth trace down your delicate throat.

“Mmm later, I promise. I just….want you, right now.” He leans up and looks at you with his pretty hazel colored eyes. You don’t argue with him, because you want him too.

It’s been three weeks since you two have had some privacy. Due to him saving people as well as being a scientist, and you starting your new job as a engineering tech. It’s been hectic. But in this intimate moment you wanted your husband.

“This is new.” He says as he looks down at your night gown. It was scarlet and a bit see through. “Do you like it? I ordered it last week.” He squeezes your perky brown breasts and sucks the left one through the thin fabric. Which tells you all you needed to know that he indeed liked the night gown.

You let out a soft moan and feel his heavy dick pressing against your now wet cunt. “M-” He stops you and leans up, so his warm body isn’t pressed against you anymore. “Do you remember our safe word?” Your husband asks as he leans back down, moving his face towards your inner thighs. You nod but he smirks in the dim moonlight. “Use your words, amor.” He says as he hands rubs your outter thighs.

You bite your bottom lip and open your legs, watching his now ruby eyes linger for a moment too long. “Spider.” You say as you lift your night gown, revealing your naked flesh to him. “Good girl.” He says as he lifts up your right leg and places it on his shoulder. He lifts your left leg, kissing your inner thigh and placing it on his other shoulder. You look down and see his pretty eyes lock onto yours.

Your pussy clenched as you see his teeth extend into fangs. You let out a groan as he runs his sharp k-9’s against your puffy lips. He uses his tongue to part your lips and as soon as his tongue dips deep inside of you, you grip your pillow.

You watch as your starving husband eats your wet pussy and you moan out into the moonlit room.

His eyes roll back as he uses his tongue and spit to edge you. Your legs begin to tense up as you rock your hips to his movements. He sucks on your clit and then he stops.

“Amor, you need to stay still. If you move too much I’ll have to pin you down so you can’t move. And I know you don’t want that.”

“W..what if I do?” You challenge him. He raises a thick brown at you and he yanks you closer to his fanged mouth. “You sure about that?” Before you could give a cocky response, his mouth had engulfed your entire pussy lips and you groan out incoherent sentences.

He slows down just enough to give you slight friction, but not enough to make you come. He flicks his tongue slowly as he watches your reactions.

“Baby, please. More.” You moan at as he lazily flicks his tongue again. “Mmm, perdoname mi Amor. But I’m going to go at my pace. I want to savor this, pretty little pussy.” He spreads your lips apart he lays his tongue flat against your swollen clit and he twirls his tongue inside of you. Your walls clench slight around it and you moan to the heavens.

Your eyes rolls to the back of your head as you reach down and grab his forearms. You hump his tongue and moan to a god who you hope isn’t listening.

You look back down at him and you see his fangs trace against your inner lips. His eyes still tracking your every movement. “Please.” You moan out as start to buck your hips. He gives a heavy sigh and with a quickness, your husband had moved his mouth away from your pussy and he had pinned you against the bed. Your front against the bed while he laid on top of you.

“I told you not to move, now you get this.” You hear his boxers being pulled down and he smacks his thick heavy dick against your ass cheeks.

If you were a form of water, you’d be a waterfall right now. You push your ass against him but he pins your lower back down. “No, no you don’t get to tease me. You just have to take this dick and use that pretty mouth of your to bite that pillow.”

He grips your throat and you let out a laugh. “Can’t I use my pretty mouth somewhere else?” You tease which causes him to use his knees to spread you apart and you feel his dick start to push through. “Ay dios mío, next time I’ll use that smart ass mouth. But for now…”

As he slides in from behind you let out a gasp and he grips your neck tighter. His dick fills you up and he hasn’t even pushed his full length all the way in yet.

“A…ay dios mío, mi amor.” Your husband grunts as he continues to slide in deeper. You groan out as he slowly thrusts up inside of you. He bites your ear and you bite down on your pillow.

God he was big and your pussy was sucking him in deep. You feel his fangs against your neck next and you moan for him to do it. “Are you sure?” He moan as he fucks you deeper. You moan out yes and you feel his teeth sink into your shoulder.

You feel the air leave your lungs for just a moment and your body is in pure ecstasy. Your husband pounds into you harder and his devilish jaw lets go. He moves your face and you taste blood on his lips.

You suck his tongue and you moan out how you’re going to come. But he doesn’t slow down. Instead he goes faster and lets his body weight hold you in place. “Come for me, come on daddy’s dick so you can suck it clean for him later.” You go to moan out your husbands name as you feel yourself about to come. “Mig-“

You jolt awake from your erotic dream, hearing construction work outside your window. You wake up wet and you look over at your phone screen to see it’s only 5am. “Fuck.” You throw your blankets off of you and you check your shorts. Sure enough you had a wet dream like some pre-adolescent boy.

You wish you knew who the hot stranger you were dreaming about but you had no idea. Which was odd, because from your psychology class, you’ve learned that the human mind is so strange that it can’t create a human face out of thin air. Which means you had to have seen the strangers face before.

You crank up the hot water in the shower and you step in not caring of the scolding water burned you or not. You take your banana milk body wash and clean between your legs. The dream flashes in the back of your mind and you lean your back against the shower wall and you let your hand cup your one of your breast. You think of how the stranger had his face buried between your legs and you use the body wash as lube.

You rub your clit thinking about your dream guy and you let out a moan thinking about his hazel eyes, his large frame. His thick d-

“Hey! Don’t use up all the hot water! Some of us have to shower and go to work!” Your roommate yells behind the door. You move your hands away like a shamed child and quickly finish up your shower.

Once you’re all dried and dressed, you make it to the kitchen to see Erica, your roommate, running around looking for her left shoe.

“Tommie? Have you see my-” Without a missed beat you point under the couch and grab your overnight oats from the fridge. “Thanks T. Oh you’re still coming out tonight right? I know you, you’ll say yes and then in the last minute you’ll make an excuse and stay in.”

You take a bite of the chocolate oats and nod slowly. Both answering her and being happy with your breakfast. “Yeah, I’m still coming. I won’t leave you hanging with Monica and Jerry.” You loved your group of friends but Monica and Jerry tend to always get Erica in trouble. But with you there, their influence won’t be an issue for her.

“Alright, remember we’re going to club Epic. I want us to get together and…” You space out as you eat your chocolate oats and your mind seems to wonder as you lick your spoon.

You think about your dream guy and you imagine your tongue on him. In his mouth, on his neck, on his chest, down his happy trail-

“Tommie!” Erica snaps her fingers in your face and you snap out of your day dream. “What?” You ask with a scowl on your face. “I asked if you could pick me up after work.”

“Yeah, at seven right?” You ask as you scrap the bottom of the jar. “Yes, look I gotta go, can you feed Milo for me?” Your roommate leaves out in a hurry and you as soon as you hear the door lock you place your hands on the counter and you let out a groan.

“Alright girl, you need to stop having these sex dreams and these sex day dream over a man who isn’t your man. He probably was some stranger you saw on the street, you just need to stop.” You tell yourself as you go and pour some food into Milo’s dish bowl. “Milo? Come eat.” You call out to the small kitten.

You know that Milo will come out to eat eventually and you get your blazer off of the coat rack. You grab your purse as well your water bottle and lock the apartment up behind you.

As you walk to the parking lot you hear your phone ringing. You answer it on the fourth ring. “Hi grandma.” You say as you cradle the phone between your shoulder and ear. “Hi, baby cakes. Remember this Friday is family dinner night.”

You press the unlock button to your car as you continue to the drivers door. “Yes grandmother, I remember because you call me every Tuesday and remind m-”

Your drop your water bottle and it rolls towards down the wall way. “One second grandma.”

You put your phone in your pocket and you take off running towards the bottle.

Before you can grab the bottle a pair of hands grab it and you have your knees on your chest. Holding up a finger. “Whew I’m outta breathe. Thank yo….you.” You stare into a pair of hazel eyes and he stares at you.

You two seem to be frozen in that moment. Your dream guy, the dream guy he’s standing right in front of you, standing at at least six foot four. Which made you feel small considering you’re only five feet.

You finally snap out of it as you hear your grandmother on your phone. You grab the phone and tell your grandmother that you’ll call her back. Once you hang up you look up at the handsome stranger as he gives you a look.

“Do I know you?” You ask him. “No, I don’t think so, but here you go.” He hands you your water bottle and as he does your fingertips lightly brush against each other and you feel a spark.

“Well, you have a nice day.” He turns and you blurt out the first thing you can think of. “I like your eyes, they remind me of caramel candies.”

Caramel candies? Tommie are you stupid?

You hear him chuckle and he turns back to you. “Thank you, it’s not everyday you get a compliment like that.” You feel your cheeks warm and you find yourself smiling wide. “My name is Tommie Valentine. What’s yours?” His eyes seem to search your face before answering. “Miguel O’Hara.” He tells you.

Strangely…you knew that. But how? From your dreams? Maybe you’ve heard it somewhere?

“Isn’t that last name Irish?” He nods as he shoves his hands in his pockets. This type of body language you take notice. Hmm he’s uncomfortable?

“It is. I’m sorry I’d love to chat but-” You shake your head. “It’s fine, I have to get to work anyways. Thank you again, and since you’re a neighbor, don’t be a stranger.”

Tommie get in the damn car and drive.

Before you embarrass yourself any further, he turns on his heel and he walks away from you. You feel a bit hurt by that. “Have a good day at work, Tommie.” Miguel calls over his shoulder. You smile again as he says your name and you can’t help but watch him walk away.

He was well built like in your dreams and you immediately think of what else is well built. You snap out of it and quickly get into your car. Hopefully you can beat Nueva York traffic this morning.

Luck must have been on your side because you make it to the building with five minutes to spare. “Miss Valentine, you’re late.” Your boss says as his back faces you in your office.

“Sir, I have…three more minutes.” You say checking your watch. He turns to you and you feel like a spanked child by the way he is narrowing his eyes at you. “You are late, when my calls haven’t been answered, the coffee hasn’t been made, and my paper work hasn’t been prepped. I advise you to come in earlier. Now be sure to push my meetings back for the hour.” Mr. Stark says as he walks past you.

You fake a smile and give him a yes in response. As soon as he leaves you flip him off and toss your things down. “God Howard Stark is a pure asshole.” You mutter as you get ready for work.

Working as Howard Starks Assistant should be a dream come true, but he always felt entitled to every second of your time. Last year he made you come in on your birthday just so he can have you polish his golf equipment.

The pay was at least good enough to suffer through this until you could find another job in possibly technology engineering.

You look over at your window and you take a deep breathe. Nueva York was so pretty during this time of morning. The skyline had hints of orange, gold and red in it. The city was rough but it still had its hidden gems in it…

As you get the flow of things you glance at the clock and see it’s close to noon which means Mr. Stark will be wanting his noon day coffee. As you leave your office you see Gregory, the sweet old security guard by the elevators. “Miss Valentine.” He says with a nod of his hat.

“Hello, Gregory. I’m heading out for coffee. Would you like anything?” He shakes his head. “No ma’am I’m fine.” But you know him. “I’ll bring you back a vanilla cake pop with a small black coffee.” He gives you a gentle smile. “Thank you.”

About ten minutes later you leave the building and wait to cross the street so you can go to the local coffee bean shop.

As you wait, you hear your phone ringing. You look at the screen and see it’s Erica. As you go to answer it, you feel someone standing a bit too close to you.

When you look back you see a shaggy looking man. He gives you a smile and his front teeth are missing. “Hey pretty lady.” He says which makes you want to shrink back from him. You see the cross sign and you makes haste and cross.

But not without some confrontation. “I said hey.” The shaggy man said as he grabbed your wrist. You snatch back from him. “Don’t touch me.” You snap at him. Which causes a rise out of him.

“Oh someone is feisty. I like little chocolate things like you. Come here, lemme just-”

“Hey!” A voice says causing the man to look behind him. You take that chance and you go inside of the coffee bean. You shake off the encounter and get in line.

There was only five people ahead of you so you look back at your phone and see Erica left you a text.

I think I’ve met the man of my dreams-Erica

You roll your eyes because you know Erica falls in love every day of the week.

Oh? Do tell.

You reply back.

As you see her typing, the line starts to move fast.

He’s this cute nerdy looking white boy. His name is Dennis and he is an oral hygienist. Girl he asked me out for Friday! I am in love 😍

You laugh at what your love bound friend had sent you and you think for a second.

You met the man of your dreams, well sort of. He seemed like you’ve met him before but where you wonder.

“Excuse me miss?” You snap out of your thoughts and see it’s your turn to order. “Oh sorry about that.” You order the usual for Mr. Stark as well as something for Gregory and you get yourself a simple chai latte.

Once the total is given you pay and wait by the pick up area. As you wait you go to reply back to Erica.

I’m happy for you! Just make sure when you go on that date, send me your location and bring your mace.

She gives a reply and you’re about to read it but you glance up and you see Miguel. He seems to search the room and his hazel eyes land on you.

However he gets in line and you fix your curls and blazer. “Tony?” The barista calls out. “It’s Tom-you know what never mind.” You accept your order and Miguel stands besides you.

“Fancy meeting you here.” You say with a breathy smile. He nods and grabs his drink. “I happen to be in the area. And you?”

“I work at Stark Tech. Well I’m Mr. Stark’s assistant.” You tell him as you two start to walk out. He holds the door for you and he follows you outside.

“Do you like your job?” Miguel asks as you wait to cross the street. “I…do.” He gives your a raised brow. “Really?” You let out a breath. “Honest truth? I want to work in tech engineering. My dad, he use to work for his own company but it went bankrupt and you know things happen. I want to revive that for him and I want to build better things for the world. I know I can do it. I have the capability and the drive. I just need…someone to believe in me and I don’t have that. I know my friends and grandparents all say they believe in me but I can tell they don’t. The look in their eyes tells me all the time.”

“I believe in you.” Miguel says to you. You look into his eyes and right there you know, he’s telling the truth. Your foot clips under you and you feel yourself about to fall but Miguel yanks you into his chest and you can’t help but stare.

“You know if you keep getting yourself into these bad situations I’m going to need to become your bodyguard.” Miguel says as he stares down at you. You suck in your bottom lip and press your breasts against him, hoping he feels how hard your nipples feel through your white bodycon dress.

There is sexual attraction between the two of you that isn’t hard to deny. He clears his throat and lets you go just when the cross walk sign indicates it’s safe to walk.

You take a step back from him and cross the street feeling a bit embarrassed by your behavior. As you get across the street with him you see in the reflection of the building that Miguel was staring at your hips and ass.

Which caused a smirk to crawl across your glossed lips. You turn on your heel, almost catching him still staring at you. “Are you busy tonight?” You ask him. He seemed to be taken aback by your question. “No…why?”

“My friends and I are going out tonight. To this place called Club Epic. And since you’re new I’d figured you want to go. If you don’t want to then-”

“I’ll be there. What time?” You tell him to be there around nine and he nods. “How about we exchange numbers, just incase plans change.” Miguel hands his phone over to to you, unlocked and you key in your number. You put your name in as well and call yourself so he has your number as well.

When you hand the phone back Miguel was eyeing you up and down, which made you nervous. “You know in this light your eyes look kind of red.” You comment. He immediately shuts his eyes and turns on his heel. “I’ll see you later. Stay out of trouble, amor.”

Did you say something wrong for him to leave so abruptly?

••••

You were in your closet looking for something to wear. So far half of your closet was on your floor. Erica came to your door and paused. “Damn, what are you doing? Trying to dress the whole neighborhood?”

You ignore her and go to the back of your closet. “So remember how I said I invited someone to the club with us? Well he is extremely cute, and I want to find the perfect outfit to wow him.”

“Oh! The guy! Okay, well why don’t you go for the classic black dress?” Erica suggests. “I was going to do that but I want to wear something red. I don’t know why but I feel like that’s his favorite color.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, look just help me.” You pull out a red two piece suit and she shakes her head. “This is the club, not one of your stuffy business meetings. Oh! This! This will make him stare.” She shows you a form fitting cocktail dress and you make a face.

“I haven’t worn that in like three years. It might not even fit me now.” Erica sucks her teeth at you and throws the dress at you. “Go try it on now.” You go to protest but just go and try the dress on.

As you pull off your t shirt and sleep shorts, you drop them onto the floor and you take the dress and you slide it on.

It was a bit tight in the hips area but other than that it fit you perfectly. As you look at yourself in the mirror you pat your small tummy pouch and look at your cellulite covered thighs.

You had a cute shape but you tried to avoid wearing outfits like this. Only because they show every flaw you felt you had.

Erica had barged into the bathroom and she smiled like a Cheshire Cat. “Damn little mama, you got a boyfriend cause if you do, I know he be eating you every night!” You turn to her and laugh.

As the both of you wipe the tears from your eyes, you see her looking at her phone. “They’re leaving their place now. We gotta hurry up.” You both go back to getting ready and you decided on putting your hair up. As you do you notice two small dots on the side of your shoulder. They look like bite marks, which you know wasn’t there yesterday.

As you go to touch it, you think of your dream about Miguel biting your shoulder and you snap your hand away.

What was that?

You shake out of it and decide to put a bit of concealer on your bite mark as you finish up.

Once your heels are on and your lip stick is in place, you and Erica both head out the door…

••••

It’s been forty-five minutes and you feel nervous about your outfit choice. You tug at the hemline and Monica was coming back with drinks. “You look gorgeous.” Jerry compliments as he accepts his drink first. “Thank you.” You say as you accept your drink next.

“Tommie, where is this guy?” Erica asks as you scan the crowd. “He’s just running a little late.”

“Well I don’t know about the rest of you but I need to go out there and shake a lil sumn’. Jerry come on, I see a few guys eyeing us and I want to leave here with some digits.” Monica says as she throws her shot back and grabs Jerry’s hand onto the dance floor.”

Erica had sat with you and you check your phone again. There was no messages. Maybe he isn’t going to show.

“T, you’ll be okay right here right? I see Nikki over in the corner. I’ll be right back, really quick.” You put on a brave face and nod. “I’ll be fine. Trust me. Go.” Erica leaves you at the table and you look back at your phone.

You decide to text him.

Hope you still can make it, I’m just sitting close to the bar. I’m wearing a red dress.

You press send and you nurse your vodka and coke. “Anyone sitting here?” You turn and regret it instantly because it’s just a random guy trying to talk to you.

“I’m saving this table for my friends.” You tell him. “I can be your friend then, gorgeous. My name is Nathan.” You sigh because you don’t want to talk to this guy. “Nathan, let me just stop you right there. I’m sorry I’m not interested. And I’m not looking for anymore friends.”

“Well that’s too bad because I wanna be your friend. What’s your name?” He slides in next to you and just when you’re about to open your mouth to curse him out. When you feel someone standing behind your chair. You look up and you see him.

“Hello, amor.” Miguel’s hazel eyes seem to glow in the dim club lights. “Hi.” You forget about the creep and Miguel leans over your chair, in a way that makes him look like he’s about to pick you up out of your chair and take you away from all the chaos.

“Excuse me, we were talking.” Nathan tries to cut in. “Looks like to me, she was just leaving. Puedo tener este baile, mi amor?” You accept his hand and he starts to take you onto the dance floor.

“Hey!” Nathan stand up and when he sees Miguel’s full height he backs down a bit. Miguel smirks at Nathan and he takes you away from him and he brings you to the center of the dance floor.

Jungle from H.E.R plays and he pulls you close to him. You look up at him and in your mind no one else was in the room with you two. “Siento llegar tarde. Something came up.”

“It’s fine, really. I’m just happy you came at all.” You say as your sway your hips to the music. “Why wouldn’t I come? I wanted to see you.” He says as he looks down at you with kind eyes.

You swallow hard and lean your head against his chest. You close your eyes and for some reason this feels familiar to you. Like you’ve danced with him before.

When you look up at him again, you go to speak but your tongue felt like it was stuck at the roof of your mouth. “Red is a beautiful color on you. And it’s my favorite color.” Miguel comments as he spins you slowly and pulls you back.

“Thank you.” Is all you can say as you rock to the beat with him. He smelled so good, and his black button down seemed to hug him right across the chest. You start to wonder how he looks out of the shirt. Maybe how he looks in your dreams?

This man has haunted your dreams and now he is in front of you. You stop moving and just stare at his eyes. “Can I just…?” You get on tippy toe and he leans down. Your eyes flutter closed and you feel his cool breathe against your lips.

Shit even his breathe is attractive.

You feel his lips about to touch yours but you feel a harsh push and cold liquid on the front of your dress.

Your eyes snap open and you see a girl drunkenly dancing. You move back and Miguel helps you off of the dance floor. He leads you to the bar and gets you some napkins to get what smells like tequila, off of you.

“I’ll be right back.” Before Miguel could reply to you, you were already heading to the bathroom. You get inside and as you run the cold water, you glance at your dress in the mirror and you feel angry.

Why did that drink have to spill on you in front of Miguel? Why did that creep have to come and talk to you? You wanted to look perfect for Miguel. You wanted this night to be perfect for Miguel. You feel yourself starting to hyperventilate so you hold onto the sink.

You hear a gentle knock to the door and without opening your eyes you call out to whomever was behind the door. “Someone is in here.” You let out a breathe and use the sink water to dab the dress off a bit.

The knocking happens again and you narrow your eyes at the door. “I said someone is in here.” You call out again but they just didn’t get the hint.

So you toss the wet napkins into the trash can and you yank the door open ready to tell the impatient knocker to fucking stop. But your words die slowly when you see Miguel making his way into the small bathroom with you.

Without breaking eye contact he locks the door behind himself and looks you over. “Are you okay? You looked stressed and I wanted to check on you.”

You turn away from him and face the mirror. His eyes find yours and you let your eyes drop to the sink as you scrub the dress. “I’m fine.” You lie. “Tommie? Amor look at me.” The base in his tone made you stop what you were doing and meet his gaze in the mirror.

“Are you okay?” He leans in so he’s trapped you against the sink and his body. Now that’s you’re alone with him, you feel nervous and horny.

That’s crazy right? Feeling as if you know this complete stranger, and wanting him to grip your hair and fuck you till you can’t use your legs properly.

This is crazy.

“I’m fine.” You lie again, swallowing hard. Miguel’s eyes seem to darken a bit as he nods. “Hmm, if you say so. But I think you’re stressed out…and nervous.” His voice drops down to a whisper and you can’t help but feel his warm body heat radiating off of him. “I…I’m not nervous.” You stutter out to him.

“Are you sure about that, amor? I think you’re nervous.” Miguel was tracing a finger down your arm which gave you goosebumps. “What makes you say that?” You ask as you squeeze your thighs together.

“Well I am a highly intelligent man, and when I was in college, I had studied human behavior. For example, you’re biting your bottom lip and gripping the sink, which shows me you’re nervous. You would rather stay in this very room and not go back out there, because of the embarrassment….” He eyes trails down to your backside and when his eyes meet your again, they look ruby red.

“…But you’re also squeezing your inner thighs together, and that didn’t happen until I got close to you….do I make you nervous, Tommie?” He asks as he presses his front close to your ass.

You can feel he’s hard and you accidentally let out a moan. “N..no.” You lie again. He simply tsks and he lets his hand travel into your messy updo. “Don’t lie to me, mi corazón. Tell the truth and maybe…I can help you relax.” He gently tugs your head back so your neck is exposed in the mirror.

The slight pain feels good to you and you swallow hard. “Maybe a little.” You tell him. His ruby eyes looks directly at your breasts that are spilling out of the top of your dress and he pulls it down. You feel his dick throb against your ass and you test it by back up against him.

“No hagas eso, amor. O te devoraré. Do you want that? Do you want me to devour you right here?” He asks as his lips press against your neck.

“God, yes please.” You beg. Your eyes flutter close as he squeezes and massages your breasts. “Put your hands on the mirror and make sure you don’t get too loud.” He whispers against your ear.

You open your eyes and in the mirror you see this man get on his knees for you. You look back but he shakes his head. With his finger he motions you to turn around. You do as you’re told and he rubs his large palms across your ass.

“You are a goddess you know that, right? You are the definition of beauty.” He whispers as he lifts your dress, letting the cool air of the bathroom caress your exposed thighs and ass.

His fingers hook around the band of your panties and he pulls them down to your ankles. He bends you over so that your cunt was exposed to him.

This should be embarrassing but it was erotic and you wanted this man to see all of you. You feel his lips kiss your thighs and you hear the buckle to his belt. Which made your walls clench.

You wanted to peek and see what he was doing but that thought gets interrupted when you feel his tongue lick from the hood of your clit all the way to your ass. You sag against the sink and watch your own eyes roll back as Miguel palms you open and continues to lick you out.

You moan out to him and feel your legs turn into jello. “Baby…don’t stop.” Your dreams couldn’t compare to this moment. Miguel’s nose rubs against you which causes you to arch your back and slowly fuck his mouth.

“Just like that, amor. Fuck my face, just like that.” He moans out as you get a death grip on the sink. He flicks his tongue deep inside of you and you bite your lip hard as you feel yourself getting close to the edge.

He sucks your clit and rubs your asshole at the same time which causes your walls to clench. “Mmm, don’t hold back, amor. Come for me. Come all over my face so I can drink you up.” You let out another moan as he flicks his tongue faster. “Don’t stop, jus…just like that.” Your body tensed up as he doesn’t slow down. He keeps up with his pace and you let out a whimpering moan as you feel your cum drip down his face.

He holds onto your hips and sucks you deep. You collapse but Miguel grabs you before you fall and he turns you around. You grab him close by his shirt and kiss him.

He holds you and you taste yourself on him. As you slide your tongue into his mouth you feel something sharp and it cuts you.

You pull back from him and you feel the small cut on your tongue. “Ouch.” You comments as you turn your head slightly and look in the mirror. You glance at Miguel in the mirror and you jump.

His eyes were blood shot. His mouth looked devilish and his demeanor made him look like a predator. He looked like a monster. When you turn back to him, he had moved away from you and when you reach for him he jerked away from you.

“I’m sorry, I need to go.” And just as fast as he came in was just as fast when he left. You fixed yourself quickly and called out to him. “Miguel! Miguel wait!” You try to catch up to him but he was quick and he was gone.

Leaving you wondering what did you do wrong?

Next

#miguel o'hara #watsittoyah #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #Tommie Valentine #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman smut #spiderman 2099 smut #miguel o'hara x tommie valentine #oscar issac hernandez estrada #oscar issac smut #along came a spider #along came a spider 2099

[tripleyeeet]

GO SLOW (12)

SUMMARY: Astarion figures out some hard truths. Also some easy ones.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,665

WARNINGS: Spoilers for Act 2, depictions of a panic attack, brief mentions of past (sexual) abuse.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: SURPRISE SHAWTY!! Because I was home sick all day and now I'm apparently busy the rest of the week you get the chapter now! Hopefully you like it. :')

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

You’re meant to be focused on the relic —on its discovery and retrieval and potential handoff depending on the item in question. As you walk across the cobblestone, tightly gripping the moonlit lantern, you’re well aware that you more than likely look a bit distracted. Lost in a world of your own as you glance around, knowing you should concentrate instead of allowing your head to fill with thoughts of him.

Embarrassingly though, you can’t help it. Not now, when Astarion’s practically glued to your side, brushing his arm against yours with every step. It’s distracting, to say the least. Creating a mess of thoughts within your mind. Shifting in and out of reality, you find it increasingly difficult to pretend you’re anything but elated over your previous private conversation. 

As you continue your journey, feeling the coolness of his hand haphazardly make contact with your own, your heart swells twice its original size at the mere memory. How his voice, so simple and sweet, told you he loved you. Even now, hours later, you can hear it clear as day, echoing through the cavern of your skull. Taking its hold with each passing moment; enveloping you in a warmth like any other, laying a heated waste to every thought that may try to penetrate.

If you’re honest, it makes you feel a bit guilty knowing that the rest of the group is most likely feeling more anxious than anything else. Resembling a cluster of bundled nerves, trudging through the darkness, wondering what might be next, it’s as if you’re the only one struggling with something else. 

Fully looking at Astarion, you can see the attentive scowl that rests across his face to prove this. The ever so slightly upturned nose, wrinkling in disgust at the rotting trees that line your vision. The angrily knitted brow that pushes together, revealing a lack of enjoyment as the shadows dance around the lantern. Even the frown that graces his lips appears almost too engrossed with the task at hand, making you realize that, despite your shared feelings, he’s more present than you are. 

Upon realizing this, you force yourself away. Taking a half-step from his frame, you shake all thoughts of him, replacing them with whatever observation you find in front of you. Like the sound of a crow echoing through the air or the heavy wisps of wind that hit your ears a little too hard or the looming figure leaning on a nearby epitaph—

All of you stop in your tracks, watching as it emerges from the fog to reveal a smug looking Raphael sauntering towards you. 

Greeting you with interest, despite the obvious lack of trust for one another, his eyes scan the line of your bodies, lingering on each for a moment before ultimately falling to you, smirking. “Through the dark he went creeping and awoke what was sleeping…”

His voice makes you shiver as he begins to recite some sort of riddle, reminding you of your previous conversation. The one where he threateningly spoke of his aid being the only way to release you from the tadpole's grasp. Assuring that with time you’d seek him out again despite all of you agreeing otherwise. 

Even though the context of the conversation seems completely different, you assume it’s the same reason he’s here now, standing before you, rambling on about some terrifying creature through obnoxious prose. More than likely, he’s here to offer you yet another deal —another contract you know will only end in further misery if you so choose to agree to it. 

It’s all devils like him seem to do.

“Strange way to warn us about something,” you comment when he’s finished, raising your brow as he chuckles under his breath. 

“Well, you know, I’ve grown quite fond of you —in my own way.”

To your right, Karlach groans. “Is there an actual point to this fucking riddle or is this another opening to one of your shitty dealings?”

In response, Raphael tuts in her direction, subtly shaking his head as the grin across his lips only grows. “Such poor manners, tiefling. You’d think Zariel would’ve taught you better.”

Immediately, Karlach takes a step forward, her jaw clenching just as you and Gale hold her back, both of you staring with pleading eyes for her to calm down. 

“And here I thought after all this time apart you might miss me.” Regardless of the obvious threat, he flashes all of you a fake frown, pouting his lips for a moment before changing the mood with another laugh. “No matter. I’m merely here to warn you of the dangers ahead.”

“Dangers?” 

This time it’s Shadowheart who speaks, her tone quiet —cautious in the way that Karlach’s fails to be, causing Raphael to nod before going into some long-winded tale of a darkened stage with tired actors. Ones that, if awakened, will cause a great calamity. 

Or, so he says. With Raphael, it’s hard to trust what’s being embellished and what’s not with the way he speaks, moving his hands through the air while he rhymes. Sure, there’s a bit of eloquence to the whole thing —an air of intrigue to his tales but ultimately, it only makes you and the others frustrated. Skeptical. A lack of trust rising through the air as he continues, pivoting the conversation to a lurking shadow. 

Apparently, it’s of Infernal descent, something that piques both you and Astarion’s interest, sharing a look. As Raphael speaks, telling you to kill the creature before it can be released upon the rest of the world, your tadpole vies for your attention. Squirming violently, it makes you cringe with discomfort, trying your best not to let it show as you allow the call to enter your mind. 

We should ask him about the scars.

For a moment you disagree. With Raphael being a devil and all, it’s almost certain that if you ask him a question he’ll only offer a bargain in return. Something big and shiny but worth hardly anything in the long run. But then you remember the timing. The lack of minutes and hours and days you may have left. Already you’re running on borrowed time and you can tell that Astarion’s desperate. Struggling to come to terms with the fact that at the end of all this, he might not get the ending you both believe he deserves. 

Because of this, instead of denying you merely nod your head, making quick eye contact just as Raphael finishes his tale, using the short moment of silence to pivot the conversation. 

“Now, enough about all that,” he says, waving his hand in the air. “Let’s talk about you. I sense there’s something you want to ask me.” 

When his gaze hits Astarion’s face it’s as if the whole party turns defensive. Narrowing their eyes, their bodies instinctively lean towards Astarion, making sure it’s known that any sort of threat will not go unnoticed.

It makes Astarion puff up triumphantly as he clears his throat, glancing back at all of you with hidden thanks before returning his attention to Raphael. “I do. I have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal?” 

“Yes.” 

Chuckling darkly, you see Raphael shift. “If this has anything to do with you wanting to taste my blood, I can assure you vampling it’s hardly worth it.”

As you roll your eyes, Astarion scoffs. “This is serious, devil,” he retorts, a rather crisp bite to his tone despite who he’s talking to. “I have this scar —this eyesore of a creation carved rather deeply into my back. Someone wrote it all in Infernal and considering I’m neither devil nor demon I obviously can’t read the damned thing.” 

Instead of responding, all Raphael does is hum. Low and slow, he takes his time mulling over Astarion’s words, stroking his chin most likely for dramatics as he paces the path, making you frown. 

“Can you help him or not, Raphael?”

When you speak, he looks at you with offence. As if interrupting his thought process is a fate worse than death, prompting you to swallow in regret, trying not to look scared. Even though that’s exactly what you are. 

Considering you don’t trust him in the slightest, watching Astarion so easily ask for this devil’s aid makes you anything but calm. In your mind, you can feel the anxiety brewing like a storm. Threatening to strike you down at a moment’s notice as this hellish creature disguised as nothing more than just a man, scolds you for your lack of patience. 

“It’s something very important to your master,” he then says, smirking at Astarion —pulling him in with tempting words and more theatrics. “But what is it? A love letter perhaps? A warning of your impending room? A contract of ownership maybe?”

Every example he lists off makes you more and more uncomfortable, your stomach churning at the prospect of Astarion’s scars meaning anything at all. 

“I could give you all the gory details. For a price, of course.” 

As expected, Astarion sighs and looks towards you, searching your face for signs of reluctance only to find support. 

“And what’s your price?” 

Without hesitation, he tells you he wants the aforementioned creature dead. Slain on sight so that he no longer has to think about it. To which Astarion looks at him a bit confused, wondering how such a simple task could be deemed worth its weight in information. Especially when taking into account all the slaying you’ve all done already.

“Really? That’s your price?” 

Raphael nods —humming again but this time in acknowledgement. “You slay the best and I tell you all about those beautifully crafted etchings. Sound good?”

It doesn’t. Not in the slightest. But regardless Astarion merely nods, prompting Raphael to finish his end of the conversation, telling you he’ll be in touch before evaporating into a thick fog of smoke.

As soon as he’s gone you can feel the breath returning to your chest. All the past anxieties slipping into something a bit more manageable as you reach for Astarion’s arm, earning yourself a look of frustration that everyone else opts to ignore. 

“You okay?”

You see him swallow as he looks away, turning his attention to the entrance of the mausoleum you now find yourselves in front of. “I’m fine.” 

“Yes, but are you okay?”

It’s obvious then he doesn’t know how to answer. Now that he’s one step closer to finding out the truth of this thing that’s haunted him for so long, you can tell he’s nervous. Apprehensive in a way that has him debating whether or not he truly wants to know. You can see it plainly in his eyes —the way they dart around in circles, searching for something neither of you has the answers to. 

Sensing this, the rest of the party moves ahead silently, glancing at you from afar as they stop at the run-down building’s entrance, allowing you a moment to yourselves. 

“It’s a lot to take in,” you remind him then, squeezing his arm. 

Beneath your touch he tenses, signalling you to pull away as quickly as you can, fearing he may not like it. 

“There’s always something in the way, isn’t there?” he grumbles, gritting his teeth in frustration. 

Sighing, you nod your head. “Unfortunately.” 

“I mean, honestly, you’d think for once the universe would allow me a moment of goddamn peace but no, I have to work for it —to become a slave and do the bidding of someone else yet again!”

His frustrations are rational. Justifiable even, when you take into account all that he’s suffered. After everything, he deserves to be thrown some kind of bone. Even one as little as this, and more than anything you wish you could do that for him. 

Instead of merely supporting him on yet another perilous journey to earn the bare minimum you wish you could give him everything. The key to his past —the gift of his future. If you could, anything and everything under the sun would be plucked from its rightful place and put into his open hand without a second thought. You’d will the stars to fall without warning if he wanted them. Lasso the moon and drag it down just so he could see it clearer each night. Hell, you’d even rip the sky itself down if it meant you could prove to him just how much he deserves.

Unfortunately, though, you’re not nearly powerful enough to do anything like that, so instead you merely set the lantern down on the ground and offer your hand. Palm up into the air, you shove it between you with a sombre smile, watching Astarion glance between it and your face, inevitably taking it. 

“I don’t need your pity, you know.” 

“It’s not pity.”

“Fine, your sympathies then.” 

“Alright.”

A part of you knows he’s being stubborn just to guard himself. A tactic he often uses so that his vulnerabilities may remain hidden. It’s something you’re often guilty of yourself —avoiding conflicts in the form of jokes or comments said only to distract. 

Unfortunately, because of this, it means that you can see right through him. As you move your other hand to flip over his, trailing patterns across the lines of his palm, you can feel the fear that strikes his heart. The thoughts inside his head pulsating with all the potentials of where this newfound information can lead you.  

Neither of you know, but it’s apparent then that regardless of what it is, it easily has the ability to change the trajectory of everything. Depending on the severity, the more unwilling you know Astarion will be to continue with the group. If it’s dire, more than likely, he’ll try to venture off on his own to solve the issue. Especially if it results in enacting some form of revenge. 

Because despite his growing fondness for the group you find yourselves in, he’s still Astarion at his core. And you know that means there’s an inherent selfishness that sits dormant, waiting for the right moment to abandon the world to get what he wants.

You don’t blame him for it. Not after everything he’s been through. Not after countless years of seduction and starvation and a solitude meant only for the dead. At the bare minimum, he deserves the chance to erase all of that in the form of raw revenge. Whether it’s through betrayal or murder or whatever may linger in between. 

Regardless of all that, he deserves closure. Even in its impurest form, he’s earned the right to do whatever the fuck he wants because it’s his choice. His decision. If he wants to leave —to abandon the party for greater things, so be it. You won’t stop him. However, you will offer him your hand.

“I’m with you. Whatever happens.”

As you speak, you continue to stroke his hand, repeating the routes of your index finger over and over again until you can feel him relax in your palm. Until you know that the frustrations that he feels are pushing themselves to the back of his mind, making way for your presence. 

“It’s rather foolish of you, you know.”

You raise your brow at him. 

“To fall for a vampire. To promise him things you may not be able to fulfill.” 

Despite knowing he’s right you merely smile and look back down at his hand. “I never claimed to be smart, did I?”

“No, I suppose not.” 

You move your thumb across his palm, gripping it gently with your other hand as you pull it up to your face. “I’m pretty good with a sword though,” you offer, kissing the centre, feeling it curl around your chin, his own thumb trail past your cheek. 

“I know, I’ve seen you.” 

“So you’re aware of my talents.”

He snorts and leans in without another word, capturing your lips in a soft kiss that has you humming against him until suddenly it’s over far quicker than you’d like. 

“You know, the plan was never to have this happen.” 

His hand remains firmly on your chin. Thumbing your bottom lip it pushes it down to reveal your teeth before springing back up when he moves his digit elsewhere.  

“Have what happen?”

“This,” he says. “Us. We —I was meant to merely seduce you. Manipulate you into trusting me so that you’d never turn on me.” 

There’s an awkward pause that quickly fills with nervous laughter. Ripping through his throat, it’s there and gone before you can even react to it, making you swallow hard as he continues his confession, telling you how easy it was supposed to be. How instinctive it felt to flirt with the idea of you while you fully fell for his charms. 

“All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you,” he tells you, earnestly —looking at you with eyes so heavily filled with guilt that, as he confesses further, all you can do is stand there, panicking. Praying to whatever Gods may hear you that at the end of this, he doesn’t retract all the words he previously said just to spare you from helping him accomplish the impossible. 

“I swear if you—“

“That’s where my plan fell apart, you know,” he cuts you off, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “When I realized how incredible you are. How caring and funny and—and smart you are. I didn’t stand a chance. Not with the way you take the time to listen. Or the way you defend my honour even though I never ask. Or how you have the ability to make me smile when all I want to do is scream.”

All you can feel is the breath of his words hitting your face. The sensation of air pluming across your skin, forcing you to blink and breathe and carry on as silently as possible. 

“You deserve to have the kind of love you selflessly offer me every day.”

Slowly, his hands move to cup either side of your face, pulling you further in despite how close you already are. 

“I want to give you that —to give you something real. But I’ll be honest, I don’t know how to do that.”

There’s a part of you that feels like you’re shattering then, hearing those last few words, unaware of the implication. Considering it’s such an open statement, as you remain still beneath his touch, trying to explore his face for clues, the only thing you can think of is the worst. How instead of loving you, he’ll leave and die by Cazador’s hand. How as a result you’ll be one member short and fall to the Absolute. How everything will have been for nothing. 

Breathing hard, you assume his next few words will be the worst words you’ll ever hear, so when he eventually opens his mouth, preparing to speak further, you can’t help but close your eyes. 

“Being close to someone —experiencing intimacy— it’s something I did to lure people in for him, so it’s tainted in a way. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing, despite what we have being different,” he confesses, forcing your eyes to reopen and see the almost wild look in his eyes. 

“I don’t know how to be with someone else. How to offer them what they need —how to let them in the way I know I should. No matter how hard I try.”

At that point, it feels like he’s searching for answers. Begging for you to tell him what to do next —knowing it’s all he’s ever known. 

Because of this, all you do is offer him a smile, reaching up to grab his face back, tentatively feeling the skin through the nerves that shake beneath the pads of your fingers. “So, what happens next?”

“Next?”

You nod, watching his expression change, telling you he doesn’t quite understand the question as he blinks back tears, glancing away while clearing his throat. 

“I, uh, I suppose I don’t know. It’s been so long since I’ve had to decide what I wanted.”

“That’s okay.” 

He opens his mouth to respond but all that comes out is a soft crackling of sound, signalling even more uncertainty until he’s pulling away and avoiding your gaze, panicking at the prospect of having to choose. A newfound agitation flowing throughout his features as you attempt to call him back in, whispering his name like a prayer.

At first, he’s completely hostile, pushing air rapidly through his nose as his eyes flicker through the trees. At one point he wobbles from side to side, shifting the weight of his feet so carelessly that you move your hands in front of you, waiting for him to drop. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t though. Instead, all he does is ride the hysteria of his emotions, eventually looking to you for the kind of guidance you’re more than willing to give him. 

Once again taking his hands —cautiously this time— you etch those same patterns into his hand, using your thumb to trace every line you see, telling him he’s okay. That you’re here and he’s safe and that you love him, despite everything. 

Barely above a whisper, you tell him that his feelings are valid. That he’s allowed to take the time to process. That admitting that he loves you doesn’t mean there has to be this automatic shift into something new.

“We can just love each other,” you tell him, smiling. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. We can take it slow.” 

That seems to calm him down enough for him to nod his head and reciprocate the contact of your hands with a short squeeze. Both of which make your heart swell in a sort of sad understanding as you silently offer him a hug, feeling him roughly wrap around you as he tells you he loves you again. 

-

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard@aurasyn@nerdoodles@kingpinthedevil@itzkawaiix@domainoflostsouls@silverskylan@uminootome@helpidkwhatimdoingwrong@deadlyinfernos@blackbirdswhispers@sarahskywalker-amadala@writingmysanity@f3v3rs@jayjones03@quietlyebbie@optimisticprime3@eyes-for-daze@sunnytalia3@megoshh@maddiedott@cappsikle@mostbeautifulnightmare@lynnlovesloki@simpytheshrimpy69@astarion-archive@smaranshakthi@autistic-deer@shadowfeart@freckled-petals@candied-lavender@hp-art-studio@ghouligan@satelliteapotheosis@waywardwitch-hel@pandimoostuff@mythoughtsofinsanity@ilovelovelylove@oneandonlyizabelle

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#go slow #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #summer writes

[solarmorrigan]

Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 9

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Ao3

Thank you once again to @azure7539arts for listening to me play relationship counselor for, like, an hour while I figured this chapter out <3

-

It takes a bit of driving before Eddie finds Steve. 

He swings by Steve’s house just to be sure, then the overlook at the quarry, then the roadside where people park when they’re heading up to Skull Rock, then the park where Steve goes running sometimes, and then finally, begrudgingly, the lake. 

Which is where he spots Steve’s car. 

He parks next to the beemer and gets out, glancing out over the moonlit surface of the lake. He still doesn’t like it here; avoids it when he can. He wonders briefly, bitterly, if that’s why Steve chose to come here over anywhere else. 

Eddie shakes the thought away and approaches the shore, where he can see a figure standing, the light of the moon glancing off the pale fabric of a members only jacket. 

He isn’t quiet as he comes up behind Steve, letting his sneakers crunch across pebbles and dying grass to signal his arrival, and he watches as Steve bends to pick something up off the ground – a stone, Eddie realizes, as Steve draws back and flicks it out over the water, sending it skipping across the surface. 

It bounces two, three, four times, and then sinks into the water several yards out. 

“How’d you know I’d be here?” Steve asks without looking over as Eddie comes to stand next to him. 

Eddie doesn’t mention how many places he’d checked before coming here. Instead, he glances around and finds a smooth, flat stone of his own. “When you’re sad, you go to Robin,” he says (or me, he doesn’t say; you used to come to me), “but when you’re angry, you want to be alone, because it still scares you. You’re afraid you’ll say or do something you regret, and you won’t be able to take it back.” 

Eddie sends the stone skipping out over the lake; one, two, three jumps, and it sinks. 

Steve scoffs, picking another stone up out of the dirt. “Yeah, you know me so well,” he mutters. He doesn’t bother skipping the rock in his hand; he hurls it like a baseball over a field of water, where it lands and sinks with a loud plunk. “So fucking well.” 

“I thought I did,” Eddie says. “I thought I was doing alright, until tonight. That I could give you what you needed and make you feel like… like I see you.” 

“Dinner in the park was nice,” Steve mutters. “The diner date was a shitty idea.” 

“Yeah, I get that now,” Eddie replies ruefully. 

“I just– Where was all of this before?” Steve finally turns to look at him, eyes demanding in the silvery light. “You know all of this about me, you were paying attention and you saw all of this, but you just – what? Ignored how I was feeling, anyway?” 

“No,” Eddie says. “I didn’t– I wasn’t ignoring you, I was ignoring everything. You, me, the whole situation – I thought I had it figured out and I didn’t let myself think about it any other way.” Eddie pulls in a breath, trying to keep calm. “I’m not trying to make excuses, okay? I’m not saying it was okay, I know that I hurt you, and I’m trying to make up for it, and you keep saying you’ll let me, and then– and then I fuck up and you shut down again, and I don’t know how to fix it.” 

Steve glances away. He kneels down to pick up another rock, but doesn’t immediately throw it. Instead, he stands for a moment, worrying the surface of it with his thumb. 

“I’m sorry for jerking you around,” he says quietly. “That wasn’t fair. I thought I was ready, but I just– I still don’t understand why you’re doing this.” 

“I told you: I fucked up and I hurt you and I want to make it better–” 

“But why?” Steve pushes, looking back over at Eddie. “Why do you even want me? Is it that you miss the sex, or – just that I threatened to take everything away? Because I was there, for months, loving you, even before we slept together, and falling deeper after that, and you didn’t even notice. It wasn’t good enough for you then, so why is it suddenly good enough now?” 

Steve’s voice cracks, and a little piece of Eddie goes with it. 

“Steve, no. It was always good enough, you were always good enough.” Eddie turns and takes a step towards Steve, instinctively trying to bridge the gap between them; Steve doesn’t step away, but he watches Eddie warily. “I didn’t– I didn’t know what I was looking at. I didn’t understand.” 

Steve doesn’t say anything, just crosses his arms over his chest, stone still clutched, forgotten, in one hand. 

“I mean, it’s like I had the world’s most precious object in my hands, and I didn’t know what it was, and I used it as a fucking paperweight,” Eddie manages. “No one has ever loved me the way you did. No one has ever put as much work into – into making me feel good, making me happy, doing things for me and teaching me how to do them and – and bringing me fucking flowers. You’re like something out of a fucking storybook, Steve, and I didn’t think I would ever have or… deserve that, so I didn’t even let myself consider it. 

“And that’s not an excuse, I get it. It’s not. It’s just– it’s the only reason I can give you. And I’ve–” Eddie breaks off, takes a breath, and pushes on; Steve needs to hear all of it, deserves to hear all of it. “I’ve never been in love before. So even though it was sitting right on my fucking chest the entire time, I didn’t recognize it for what it was. It should’ve been all yours, but I couldn’t even name it, and I’m sorry.” 

Steve pulls in a sharp, shuddery breath at the end of Eddie’s confession, watching him now with wide and startled eyes. 

“Can you say it?” he asks softly. 

“What?” Eddie asks, thrown by the unexpected question. 

“Can you say it? Tell me that you love me?” Steve’s voice nearly chokes around the words, and he’s staring at Eddie with so much trepidation that it’s almost smothering out the hope that’s there beneath it. 

“I love you,” Eddie says automatically, without even having to think, because it’s true. “I love you. Of course I love you, Steve, holy shit. I love having you around, I love when you’re being selfless and kind and I love when you’re being petty and bitchy and I love when you listen to me and when you tell me about what you like and I love you when you’re in my bed and I love you when you’re angry at me and I can’t believe I’ve never said it before because now it won’t stop coming out–” 

The problem is solved when Steve takes two steps forward, drops the stone he’s been holding at their feet, puts one hand on Eddie’s jaw, leans in, and cuts him off with a kiss. And in spite of the words that had just been streaming from Eddie’s mouth, he has absolutely no trouble immediately getting with the program and kissing back. 

He can’t help the “I love you” that slips out when Steve pulls away, but then he grips the front of Steve’s jacket and reels him back in for another kiss. 

“I love you, I love you, I promise I do,” Eddie manages between presses of lips. “I’m going to show you every day if you let me, I will.” 

“Yeah,” Steve says shakily, finally breaking their connection so he can bury his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s middle and holding him tight. “Yeah, okay.” 

Eddie’s arms are around Steve’s shoulders in an instant, pulling him closer still. “Okay.” 

“I love you, too. I still do,” Steve says, a little muffled. 

Eddie inhales sharply. He’d had a feeling – Steve Harrington isn’t really the sort of person who ever stops loving someone, not really, but having it confirmed is like a burst of pleasant static in his chest. He lets one hand slide up over the back of Steve’s neck and into his hair, cradling his head, and Steve nuzzles in a bit closer, only to make Eddie flinch when the cold tip of his nose brushes his neck. 

“Jesus, you’re cold,” Eddie says, running his other hand down Steve’s back and finally noting how little body warmth seeps through his jacket. 

“Been out here a while,” Steve mumbles. “Told you I should’ve worn something heavier.” 

“Shit, uh–” Eddie ignores Steve’s annoyed little sigh when he’s forced to pull away so that Eddie can shimmy out of his battle jacket and hold it out for him. “Here. Might help.” 

Slowly, Steve lifts his hand to take the jacket, glancing up at Eddie and raising his eyebrows. “You wanna talk about recreating history…” 

For a long moment, Eddie stares, uncomprehending, until Steve’s eyes flick out towards the lake and then back towards the vest. 

“Oh, shit,” Eddie hisses. “Wait, no, I wasn’t trying to–” 

“Relax,” Steve cuts in, smirking as he shrugs the vest over his own jacket and then steps back into Eddie’s space. “I’m teasing.” 

Eddie tries to frown at Steve, but he can’t maintain it as Steve slips his arms under his leather jacket and around his waist and pecks him on the cheek. 

“You making fun of my chivalry, Harrington?” Eddie grumbles, slinging his arms back around Steve’s shoulders. 

“Little bit,” Steve answers, before resting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder and relaxing against him so heavily that Eddie has to readjust his center of gravity. 

They stand there on the shore for a bit longer, swaying together in the comfort of what they’ve both been missing, until Eddie’s fingers begin to get cold. The late October chill is starting to bite, and Eddie can feel the cool breeze coming in off the lake. 

“So…” Eddie says quietly, pulling reluctantly back from Steve; he knows they’ll need to go back to their cars soon, but he can’t leave without addressing one last thing. “If we’re really doing this... And– and we are?” 

Steve nods. “Yeah. I want– I really want to try again.” 

“Okay.” Eddie nods, unable to help the nearly reflexive little smile that quirks up at that. “Then I’m gonna do my best to be better and pay more attention, but I need you to tell me when you want something. When you need something.” He reaches up and cups Steve’s jaw, cold skin on cold skin, swiping his thumbs across Steve’s cheeks. “I know you’re not used to doing that with people, but I need you to. I want to give you what you want, but I can’t unless you tell me. Okay?” 

Slowly, Steve nods. “I’ll try,” he says, a little hoarse. 

Still smiling, Eddie leans in for a kiss, and Steve meets him halfway. 

It doesn’t last long; it’s dark, and they’re both cold and tired, and Steve is the first to pull away, heaving another put-upon sigh. 

“Okay, let’s go home,” he says, grabbing Eddie by the hand and leading him back towards where they’d parked. 

Eddie spends a moment furiously working the statement over in his head, trying to figure out what “home” means—Eddie’s place? Steve’s place? Each to their respective houses?—but he’s saved from having to ask when Steve glances back over his shoulder at him. 

“You go first, I’ll follow,” he says, and Eddie relaxes. 

Home it is. 

Though it genuinely hadn’t been his intent at the start of the evening, they do both end up in Eddie’s bed. Steve steals a set of Eddie’s pajamas and claims the same side of the mattress that he always has, and they both drift off curled into one another’s space. 

It’s the best Eddie’s slept in weeks.

Part 10

-

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#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #okay now let the fluff era begin #just a little more hashing out to do <3 #solar wrote

[simpingforstardew]

misty [chapter two]

pairing: sdv harvey x reader

synopsis: harvey has always been a man of routine and order— although just as he begins to tire of his life in pelican town, a new farmer moves to the valley and turns his life around. chapter two.

warnings: some angst in this one (tw/ description of familial death). pure fluff and romance; eventual smut, but that'll be tagged when the time comes !! please enjoy my harvey playlist while you read ♡ (this is crossposted from ao3).

word count: 1.6k

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The Stardrop Saloon, bathed in the soft glow of warm, dim lighting, welcomes its patrons with a comforting ambiance. The air carried the distinct aroma of aged wood and the faint scent of a crackling fireplace, giving the bar a rustic charm. The gentle hum of conversation mixed with the mellow tunes emanating from the vintage jukebox, creating an intimate symphony that echoed throughout the space.

In the games lounge, a haven within the heart of the saloon, the atmosphere took on a relaxed and casual vibe. Two arcade machines stand as silent sentinels; their screens flicker with pixelated adventures. The soft glow of the games cast dancing shadows on the well-worn couches nearby, a testament to the countless conversations and moments that must have been shared over the years. Adjacent stands the pool table adorned with worn-out felt and scarred by countless games. A haphazard arrangement of colourful pool balls wait patiently for their turn, illuminated by the warm glow of an overhead light.

“What the fuck? Fired?” Shane’s disbelief echoed through the saloon, as the cue ball he hits ricochets off the side of the pool table, “Just like that?”

“Yep,” You chuckle— both at the absurdity of your own misfortune, and Shane’s awful shot “HR claimed my ‘extended bereavement’ could lead to ‘performance issues’ and ‘wasting company resources’… Whatever that means”

Shane let out a snort, taking a swig of his beer. “And here I thought working in retail was a special kind of hell. Turns out even the corporate suits have their own issues.”

You accepted the pool cue he passed your way, unable to resist a playful jab, “Thanks, Shane. You’re making me feel so much better.”

The short man scoffs, grabbing his beer from the table behind him to take a long sip. “Just sayin’, you dodged a bullet getting the fuck outta there.”

Chuckling, you circled the pool table, searching for the perfect shot, “Well, it’s not all bad. Getting the boot from Joja pushed me to embrace farm life here. Guess I’m lucky in a weird way.”

“Yeah, lucky you,” he deadpanned, though a glimmer of curiosity flickered in his eyes. His attempt at sarcasm faltered as your shot proved victorious, sinking the 8-ball with a delicate tap.

“Talk shit all you want, but it seems like my luck’s holding up pretty well considering I just wiped the floor with you.” You flashed a triumphant grin, leaning the pool cue against the wall. Shane’s stoic exterior cracked, and for a moment, a genuine smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Beginner’s luck,” he huffed, yet the twinkle in his eye hinted at a begrudging acceptance of your presence, “That kinda luck doesn’t count.”

“Yeah, yeah— A win is a win, Shane!” You shrug on your coat with a smile, heading towards the front door of the saloon, “You owe me a drink next time I’m here!”

Without turning to see Shane roll his eyes, you step out into the quiet darkness of the night. Your smile quickly fades as the door of the saloon swings shut, leaving behind the warmth of the bar. As you enter the town square, a serene hush settles over Pelican Town, its sett streets bathe in the soft, ambient glow of vintage street lamps scattered along the thoroughfare. The spring breeze carries the distant melody of an insectile symphony, the noise of crickets underscoring the serene ambiance that envelopes the town.

Strolling through unfamiliar streets under the moonlit sky, your steps echo against the rough cobblestones beneath you. Your shoulders are hunched against the night chill and your gaze remains fixed on the ground, a mosaic of uneven stones beneath your feet. Each step whispers a story of the town’s resilience, of seasons changing, and the curious rhythm of life in Pelican Town.

Once inside the farmhouse, however, you realize that you have made a grave misstep. Arranging for your grandfather’s funeral, clearing your new land of trees and shrubbery, drinking with the townsfolk— these had all allowed you to keep your hands busy and your mind blank. Now, alone in your dark farmhouse, you had no distractions from your new reality.

The house itself was bleak. Each attempt to redecorate felt like an intrusion— as if the space itself was resisting your efforts to make it feel like home. The bed stood as a lonely sentinel in the corner of the room, illuminated by the crackling flames of the fireplace on the furthest wall. The room itself was adorned with remnants of your grandfather’s presence; even your sleeping cat— Pixel— was the runt of your grandfather’s cat’s litter.

A small pot of forget-me-nots, once vibrant, now drooped listlessly on the windowsill. You reached out, your fingers gently brushing against the frail petals, a silent acknowledgment of the grief that clung to every corner of the room. You are at least blessed with a working CRT television, although with access to only two channels in the valley, the device feels like a relic of a bygone era.

A cold draft sweeps through the room as you look above the TV: the otherwise barren wall displays a single faded family photograph, featuring your late grandfather, grandmother, and you. The glass of the frame cracked during the move and the photograph itself never seems to hang straight. You move to bring the photograph down from its place on the wall, holding it delicately in your hands— as if it could shatter at any moment. The photograph captures a moment frozen in the sepia hues of nostalgia.

In the centre, your grandfather stands tall, a patriarchal figure with calloused hands cradling a newborn lamb. His eyes, warm and crinkled with a lifetime of stories, radiate a quiet wisdom that guided your childhood. Besides him, your grandmother’s hands gently cup a cluster of wildflowers. The fabric of her apron was slightly swept, caught in the breeze. In the foreground, you: a child with innocent eyes and a smile that mirrored the joy of the moment. Clutched in your small hands was a clumsy, makeshift bouquet. The backdrop was the farmhouse itself, standing proudly amidst a sea of greenery; the sun bathed the scene in a warm glow. Yet, even in this idyllic tableau, there lingered a subtle melancholy, as if the photograph itself harboured the prescience of inevitable goodbyes.

The frame, once resplendent, now bears the scars of time—a crack here, a chip there. The glass that shields the captured memories has grown cloudy, as if the passage of years had draped a delicate veil over the faces of those who once shared laughter under the farmhouse’s sturdy roof. A sob escapes your throat as a tear splashes on the glass of the portrait; hesitantly, you place the photograph on top of your small table. You take a step back. You chuckle solemnly, wiping your eyes using the back of your sleeves as you yawn.

Pixel mews softly, as you climb into the cold sheets of your bed, before falling back to sleep. The silence of the farmhouse envelopes you like a weighted blanket, as moonlight floods through the windows of the farmhouse. It seemed that sleep was becoming increasingly elusive as you tossed and turned in bed.

The gratitude for your budding friendship with Elliot and Shane brings a bittersweet comfort, as you stare up at the ceiling, watching the way the moonlight casts a silver glow above. Elliot was the first person in the valley to approach you. His efforts to get to know you eased your anxiety about the new town. Shane was a tough nut to crack, but you suppose any stranger is your friend after too many beers— at the very least, you had a new drinking buddy.

The doctor you met before entering the saloon flashes through your mind as your eyes flutter shut.

‘Harvey,’ You mentally correct yourself, ‘His name is Harvey… and he doesn’t like decaf.’ You softly exhale, a smile tugging at your lips. He was… cute? A little bashful, sure, but he was more than gorgeous enough to make up for his nerves. Your face heats up thinking about his broad, towering figure; and the way his moustache curls up with his coy grin; and the way his dimpled, freckled cheeks blush so intensely when you look into his forest green eyes…

You turn to cover your face in your firm pillow, attempting to control your wondering thoughts; eventually, your breathing slows and your blush fades as you finally drift off.

#sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley x reader #sdv harvey x you #sdv harvey x farmer #stardew harvey #stardew valley harvey #stardew valley #sdv x reader #sdv x farmer #sdv fanfic #sdv shane #sdv harvey x y/n #stardew valley shane

[mysweetlixe]

One more kiss

Words: 2.4k

Chan and Y/N strolled along the moonlit beach, waves gently crashing against the shore. Laughter filled the air as they shared stories under the twinkling stars. As the night unfolded, Chan couldn't resist the allure of Y/N's lips, which had already been graced with numerous kisses.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Chan turned to Y/N and said, "What do you say we make tonight unforgettable with just one more kiss?" His playful grin mirrored the joyous atmosphere surrounding them.

Y/N chuckled, "Chan, you've already stolen so many kisses tonight. Are you trying to break a record?"

"Maybe I am," Chan replied with a wink, his fingers gently tracing circles on Y/N's hand. "But this one will be special, I promise."

Intrigued, Y/N leaned in, meeting Chan halfway. Their lips brushed, a sweet fusion of warmth and affection. The salty breeze played with their hair as they shared a lingering, magical moment.

Breaking the kiss, Y/N teased, "You're right, that was special. But why stop at one more?"

Chan grinned, his eyes sparkling, "Well, I wanted to make sure each kiss was a chapter in our story, and tonight's chapter is all about playfulness and making memories."

As they continued their walk along the shore, the night unfolded, painting their love story with the hues of a moonlit canvas, each kiss etching a tale of joy, laughter, and endless love.

Minho couldn't shake off the nervous excitement that gripped him, in the bustling backstage chaos before his highly anticipated concert. The adrenaline rushed through his veins, but amidst the whirlwind of preparations, one thing remained constant – his desire for a good luck kiss from Y/N, his girlfriend.

As the final moments before taking the stage approached, Minho sought out Y/N in the midst of the frenetic energy backstage. Spotting her, he grinned, his eyes reflecting a mix of anticipation and affection. Y/N, aware of his pre-show ritual, met him with a smile that spoke volumes.

"Hey, beautiful," Minho greeted, pulling her into a warm embrace. The chaotic ambiance faded for a moment, leaving only the two of them in their world.

"You ready for this, Minho?" Y/N asked, her eyes mirroring his excitement.

"Absolutely, but I need something first," Minho replied with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He held Y/N at arm's length, his hands resting on her waist. "How about one more of your magical good luck kisses?"

Y/N chuckled, playing along. "Minho, you've had, like, a dozen already. Are you sure one more will make a difference?"

Minho feigned a pout, his puppy-dog eyes coming into play. "Come on, Y/N, just one more for the road. It's our secret weapon against stage jitters."

Rolling her eyes in mock exasperation, Y/N leaned in, meeting Minho's lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. The backstage chaos seemed to fade away as they shared that moment, lost in the world they created together.

Breaking the kiss, Minho grinned, a newfound confidence radiating from him. "Now I'm ready to rock that stage!"

Y/N laughed, giving him a playful shove. "You were ready before, but I'm glad I could contribute to the cause. Go out there and shine, Minho."

With one last affectionate glance, Minho headed towards the stage, fueled not just by the energy of the crowd but also by the love and support he found in Y/N's kiss. And as the music echoed through the venue, he knew that, no matter what, Y/N's kisses would always be his favorite pre-show ritual.

Changbin and Y/N sat on the couch, the room illuminated only by the soft glow of fairy lights. The clock on the wall ticked away, nearing the elusive hour of 3 am. They had spent the night sharing laughter, dreams, and countless kisses.

As they cuddled close, Changbin couldn't help but feel a mischievous spark. "Y/N," he whispered, his lips grazing her ear, "how about one more kiss before 3 am?"

Y/N giggled, her eyes reflecting the playful glint in his. "Changbin, we've already lost count of how many kisses we've shared tonight."

He grinned, his fingers tracing circles on her hand. "But there's something magical about a kiss right before the clock strikes 3, don't you think?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, pretending to ponder the idea. "Magical, huh? I suppose we could use a bit more magic in our night."

Changbin leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a lingering kiss. It was sweet and gentle, a perfect blend of affection and mischief. As they pulled away, he couldn't resist teasing, "See? Pure magic."

Y/N chuckled, nuzzling against him. "Okay, Changbin, you win. That was magical."

But Changbin wasn't done yet. With a sly grin, he added, "But what if the real magic happens with just one more kiss?"

Their laughter filled the room as they shared another kiss, sealing the enchantment of the night. As the clock finally struck 3 am, they embraced in a warm, contented cuddle, knowing that some nights were meant for creating magical memories that would last far beyond the midnight hour.

Hyunjin , a charismatic and playful soul, found himself swept away in a whirlwind of excitement on an Instagram live session. The air was buzzing with the virtual presence of fans as they joined to catch a glimpse of the young couple's endearing moments.

As Hyunjin interacted with the audience, his eyes sparkled with mischief. He decided to turn the live session into a playful escapade. With a sly grin, he glanced at the camera and shared stories of the delightful kisses he had received from his girlfriend Y/N earlier that day.

The comment section erupted with emojis and comments expressing adoration for the couple. Hyunjin, fueled by the positive energy, couldn't resist turning the spotlight on Y/N. He playfully called her into the frame, and she shyly appeared, laughter dancing in her eyes.

The couple exchanged banter and sweet nothings, creating an atmosphere charged with warmth. The audience was captivated as they witnessed the genuine connection between Hyunjin and Y/N. Amid the virtual cheers, Hyunjin, known for his playful nature, turned to Y/N with a mischievous glint.

"Y/N, you've been generous with your kisses today, but I can't help but crave one more. Care to indulge me?" he teased, a playful pout forming on his lips. Y/N, with a mock gasp, pretended to be taken aback before breaking into a smile.

The live chat exploded with anticipation as fans eagerly awaited Y/N's response. Without missing a beat, Y/N leaned in, planting a light and teasing kiss on Hyunjin's cheek. The audience erupted in virtual cheers, showering the couple with love and heart emojis.

Hyunjin, not one to back down, seized the moment. "Ah, Y/N, you know that wasn't the kiss I was aiming for. One more, just for good measure?" he requested, a twinkle in his eye. Y/N, with a playful glint, obliged, this time delivering a sweet kiss on his lips.

The Instagram live session continued with the couple's playful banter, leaving fans enchanted and eager for more glimpses into their adorable relationship. As the session came to an end, Hyunjin and Y/N bid their followers farewell, their laughter echoing in the virtual realm, leaving behind a trail of smiles and warm memories.

Jisung woke up to the soft sunlight filtering through the curtains, a warmth that matched the feeling in his heart. Beside him, Y/N lay peacefully, still lost in the realm of dreams. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he admired her serene expression.

Quietly slipping out of bed, Jisung tiptoed to the bathroom, intending to start his morning routine. As he turned on the faucet, he couldn't help but recall the sweet kisses they had exchanged the night before—each one a testament to their love.

Jisung after finishing his shower emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist, his tousled hair adding to the overall morning charm. He glanced at Y/N, who was now stirring awake.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Jisung approached her side of the bed. "Hey, Y/N," he whispered, his voice a gentle morning melody.

Y/N blinked, still adjusting to wakefulness. "Morning," she mumbled, a content smile playing on her lips.

Jisung leaned down, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. "I was thinking," he began, a playful smirk forming, "how about one more kiss before I officially start my day?"

Y/N chuckled, her eyes meeting his. "One more? You already got plenty last night."

"But each one is special," Jisung insisted, feigning innocence. "And you know, it's like a morning ritual. Good luck for the day, you know?"

Rolling her eyes, Y/N couldn't help but laugh at his charm. "Alright, just one more, and then you have to let me get up too."

Jisung grinned, savoring the sweetness of the moment. As their lips met in a final morning kiss, he couldn't help but feel grateful for the simple joys they shared. It was a playful start to the day, setting the tone for the countless adventures they would embark on together.

Felix stood at the departure gate, his heart heavy with the impending separation from Y/N. The airport buzzed with the hurried footsteps of travelers, but in his world, time seemed to slow down.

As he embraced Y/N one last time before boarding his flight for the upcoming tour, he couldn't shake the desire for one more kiss. The taste of their shared laughter lingered on his lips, and he found himself playfully whispering, "What do you say to one more kiss for the road?"

Y/N grinned, her eyes reflecting a mixture of love and mischief. "Felix, you've already stolen a dozen kisses. Aren't you satisfied?"

Felix chuckled, his hand reaching up to gently caress her cheek. "I can never get enough of your kisses, especially when I'm about to be miles away. Humor me?"

Y/N's playful resistance melted, and she leaned in for a lingering kiss. The airport background noise faded away as their connection deepened. It was a sweet, bittersweet moment filled with unspoken promises.

They finally pulled away, both wearing smiles that masked the underlying sadness. Felix held her hands, his eyes searching hers. "I'll carry that kiss with me on tour, and every time I miss you, I'll replay it in my mind."

Y/N nodded, fighting back tears. "And I'll be waiting for the day you come back, ready to welcome you with more kisses than you can count."

As Felix boarded the plane, he couldn't shake the image of Y/N's smile and the taste of that last kiss. Little did he know that those memories would become his anchor during the long days and nights away, a source of comfort and warmth in the midst of the tour's chaos.

And so, the story of Felix and Y/N's playful request for one more kiss before parting ways became a cherished chapter in the book of their love, a tale to be revisited whenever the distance felt too great.

Seungmin and Y/N sat on the couch, basking in the warm glow of a lazy Saturday afternoon. The sun streamed through the curtains, casting a gentle light on their laughter-filled moments. Seungmin, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, turned to Y/N and said, "You know, I think I'm in serious need of just one more kiss."

Y/N chuckled, "Oh really? One more? I've lost count of how many I've given you today."

Seungmin flashed his signature grin, "Well, you know, each kiss feels like the first time. But I promise, just one more, and then I'll stop... maybe."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, "Fine, just one more." She leaned in, meeting his lips in a sweet exchange that spoke volumes of their affection.

As they pulled away, Seungmin couldn't resist a teasing remark, "That was nice, but I think I need a better one. A more passionate one, perhaps?"

Y/N laughed, "You're insatiable! Okay, one more, but then we're done."

Their playful banter continued as they found themselves in a light-hearted wrestling match on the living room floor. Giggles and laughter filled the room as they rolled around, each trying to pin the other down.

Seungmin managed to sneak in a tickle, causing Y/N to squirm. "Alright, alright! Truce!" she exclaimed, catching her breath.

Seungmin grinned triumphantly, "Truce only if I get one more kiss to seal the deal."

Y/N chuckled, "You drive a hard bargain, but fine." She leaned in, their lips meeting once again, sealing their playful afternoon with a final, sweet kiss. The echoes of their laughter lingered, turning the ordinary day into a cherished memory of love and joy.

Jeongin and Y/N settled into a cozy movie night, the room bathed in the soft glow of the television. As the film unfolded, their shared laughter and occasional whispers created a warm ambiance. The storyline of the movie, however, seemed to fade into the background as Jeongin's mind started to wander.

Feeling a mischievous spark, Jeongin turned to Y/N with a playful grin, "Hey, Y/N, how about one more kiss?" His eyes twinkled, reflecting the light from the screen.

Y/N chuckled, "One more? You've already got plenty today!" She teased, remembering the numerous stolen kisses exchanged throughout the day.

Undeterred, Jeongin leaned in, his lips brushing Y/N's cheek before he pulled away with a grin. "But can one ever have too many kisses?" he pondered, his playful tone hanging in the air.

Y/N rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. "Fine, just one more," she conceded, meeting his lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. The moment, though brief, spoke volumes in the language of their affection.

As the movie continued, the playful exchange set a lighthearted tone for the evening. Their hands found each other, fingers intertwined as they immersed themselves in the unfolding scenes on the screen. The movie became a backdrop to their shared moments, deepening their connection with every passing frame.

Through the laughter, the whispered conversations, and the gentle kisses, Jeongin and Y/N created a story of their own that surpassed any plot playing out on the television. The tale of their love unfolded in the dimly lit room, leaving imprints of warmth and affection that lingered long after the credits rolled.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #lee know x reader #bang chan x reader #felix x reader #bang chan #han jisung x reader #hyunjin x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin #Felix #changbin #Minho #han jisung #seungmin #jeongin #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz imagine

[callsigns-haze]

Hangman and Haze: the reunite

part one of two..

Summary: In the quiet of the night, Y/N finds herself confiding in Bradley about the reasons behind her sudden departure from Jake before her deployment to Poland. As they share moments of vulnerability and reflection, Y/N grapples with the choices she's made and the uncertainty of her future, while Bradley offers unwavering support and understanding. Amidst the lingering echoes of their past, they find solace in the simple act of being present for each other, forging a bond that transcends time and distance.

Warnings: This chapter contains themes of emotional turmoil, past regrets, and unresolved feelings. Reader discretion is advised for those sensitive to discussions of relationship complications and separation anxiety.

The streets of San Diego were quiet under the moonlit sky as Y/N's car rolled into the familiar neighborhood. It had been fourteen long months since she last set foot in this city, leaving behind memories both bitter and sweet. But tonight, as she parked in front of Bradley's porch, she felt a mixture of nerves and relief flood her senses.

With a gentle sigh, Y/N unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to the backseat where little Jack lay asleep in his car seat. The soft rise and fall of his chest brought a small smile to her lips, a reminder of why she had returned. Jack, her precious six-month-old son, the living embodiment of her love for Jake.

Stepping out into the cool night air, Y/N carefully lifted Jack from his seat, cradling him close to her chest. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, her heart racing with anticipation and uncertainty. Would Bradley be awake at this hour? Would he welcome her back with open arms or turn her away?

Summoning her courage, Y/N made her way up the porch steps, each one creaking softly beneath her weight. She paused at the door, her hand trembling slightly as she reached out to knock. The sound echoed in the silence, resonating with the weight of her decision.

Seconds stretched into eternity before the door swung open, revealing Bradley's tired yet concerned expression. His eyes widened in surprise as they fell upon Y/N and the sleeping bundle in her arms.

"Y/N," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Is that...?"

Y/N nodded, her throat tightening with emotion. "It's me, Bradley. And... and this is Jack."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the air heavy with unspoken questions and unfinished conversations. But then, Bradley's expression softened, his gaze flickering with understanding and compassion.

"Come in," he said quietly, stepping aside to make way for Y/N and Jack. "You're home now."

With a grateful smile, Y/N crossed the threshold, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. Home. The word echoed in her mind, a promise of belonging and forgiveness.

As she settled into the familiar surroundings of Bradley's living room, Y/N couldn't help but wonder what the future held. But one thing was certain: she was back where she belonged, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, with Jack by her side and Bradley's unwavering support.

And somewhere in the depths of her heart, she hoped that Jake would find his way back to them too, completing the family they had always dreamed of.

Bradley led Y/N into the kitchen, leaving Jack to slumber peacefully in the dimly lit living room. The soft hum of the refrigerator filled the air, creating a cocoon of intimacy around them as they sat at the worn wooden table.

Pouring two mugs of steaming coffee, Bradley offered one to Y/N, his eyes filled with concern. "Tell me, Y/N," he began gently, "what happened in Poland? Why did you leave Jake here in San Diego before you went?"

Y/N took a sip of her coffee, the warmth spreading through her body like a lifeline. She knew she couldn't evade Bradley's questions any longer, not when he had opened his home to her and Jack with such kindness.

"It's... complicated," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "Jake and I, we were together here in San Diego. Everything seemed perfect, like a dream come true."

"But then..." Bradley prompted, sensing her hesitation.

Y/N's hands trembled as she traced the rim of her mug, the memories of that fateful day threatening to overwhelm her. "I was offered a new assignment in Poland. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up, but it meant leaving Jake behind."

Bradley listened in silence, his gaze unwavering as he waited for Y/N to continue.

"I thought we could make it work long-distance," Y/N admitted, her voice choked with emotion. "But as the days turned into weeks, the distance between us grew, and so did the doubts in my mind."

"And so you left," Bradley concluded softly, a note of understanding in his tone.

Y/N nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. "I thought it was for the best, that it would give us both the space we needed to figure things out. But looking back, I realize I was just running away from my feelings, from the fear of facing the truth."

Bradley reached across the table, squeezing Y/N's hand in a gesture of solidarity. "You don't have to face this alone, Y/N. Whatever happens, I'll be here for you, every step of the way."

With Bradley's unwavering support anchoring her, Y/N felt a flicker of hope ignite within her heart. Maybe, just maybe, she could find the courage to confront her past and embrace the uncertain future that lay ahead. And as the night wore on, she found solace in the simple act of sharing her story, knowing that she wasn't alone in her struggles.

The quiet of the kitchen enveloped them like a comforting embrace, punctuated only by the occasional soft clink of their coffee mugs. Y/N found solace in Bradley's presence, grateful for his understanding and support in this moment of vulnerability.

As they sat in silence, Bradley's question hung in the air like a delicate thread. "Have you at least kept in touch with Jake?"

Y/N nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the swirling patterns in her coffee. "I send him pictures of Jack every week," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's the least I can do, to let him be a part of our son's life."

Bradley reached out, placing a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulder. "That's... that's really good of you, Y/N. I'm sure Jake appreciates it more than you know."

A faint smile tugged at Y/N's lips, a glimmer of hope flickering within her heart. Maybe, despite everything that had happened between them, there was still a chance for them to find their way back to each other, if only for the sake of their son.

"And what about Jake?" Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued. "Is he still at Top Gun?"

Bradley nodded, his expression somber. "Yes, he is. He's been throwing himself into his work, trying to keep busy, I suppose."

Y/N's heart ached at the thought of Jake, alone at Top Gun, his thoughts consumed by memories of their time together. She couldn't shake the feeling that their story was far from over, that there were still words left unsaid between them, waiting to be spoken.

But for now, as she sat in the warmth of Bradley's kitchen, surrounded by the gentle hum of the night, Y/N found comfort in the simple act of being present, of sharing this moment with someone who understood her in ways she couldn't begin to explain. And as the night wore on, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was still hope for them yet.

The weight of Bradley's words lingered in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities of their intertwined pasts. Y/N couldn't help but wonder what Jake was thinking, what he felt when he looked at the pictures of Jack, their son, growing up from afar. Did he long to be a part of their lives as much as she wished he would?

"I wish things were different," Y/N murmured, her voice heavy with regret.

Bradley's gaze softened, his hand squeezing her shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. "I know, Y/N. But sometimes, life has a way of leading us down unexpected paths. All we can do is make the best of the hand we've been dealt."

Y/N nodded, a sense of resignation settling over her. She knew that she couldn't change the past, couldn't undo the choices she had made. But she could choose how to move forward, how to navigate the uncertain road ahead.

"And what about you, Bradley?" she asked, her curiosity breaking through the somber silence. "How have you been?"

A wistful smile graced Bradley's lips, a flicker of warmth in the depths of his eyes. "I've been holding up," he replied, his voice tinged with quiet determination. "Taking things one day at a time, you know?"

Y/N nodded in understanding, a sense of gratitude swelling within her. Despite the distance that had grown between them over the years, Bradley had always been a constant presence in her life, a beacon of light in the darkest of times.

"Thank you, Bradley," she said softly, her words laced with sincerity. "For everything."

Bradley's smile widened, a glimmer of hope dancing in his eyes. "Anytime, Y/N. You know I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

And as they sat in the stillness of the night, surrounded by the comforting embrace of Bradley's kitchen, Y/N felt a sense of peace wash over her. Whatever the future held, she knew that she wasn't alone, that she had someone by her side who would always have her back. And with that knowledge, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for them to find their way back to each other, to rewrite the story of their lives in a way that felt true and whole.

tagging:

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@ahh-chickens

#jake seresin #hangman x reader #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman imagine #hangman imagine #hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #hangman seresin x reader #hangman seresin x you #hangman x y/n #hangman x you

[amongemeraldclouds]

better than revenge | chapter six: twelve days of christmas

Summary: Flashback, spending your winter break with Mattheo Riddle.

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warning: smut, 18+ minors dni, fluff. Smut is just short and not detailed given the format of this chapter so lower your expectations haha.

Author's note: If you read this as part two of chapter three and discard the rest, Mattheo will continue to be your boyfriend. No heartbreak.

I wanted to try writing in a different format where I can showcase how your relationship with Mattheo developed over the course of winter break in just one chapter. It was fun writing this!

♡ main masterlist

series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

I just wish I could forget when it was magic.

Day 1: Brand new day

“Good morning sunshine,” Mattheo says in a sleepy voice. I blink, why is there a boy beside me in bed?  Memories of last night return - of broken bones, healing spells, and snarky comments. “How do you feel?” I ask, noting the absence of yesterday’s cuts and scrapes. “Never been better,” he smiles, rising from bed. “To thank you, my kind savior, I must take you out for tea and biscuits. Or hot chocolate, if you prefer.” I narrow my eyes in distrust, “why are you being nice to me?” “We got off on the wrong foot yesterday,” he explains, “on account of all the bleeding. But today is a new day. Let’s start over?”

Day 2: Stargazing

“Riddle, you’ll be the death of me! You can’t just apparate me everywhere!” “I wanted to show you the view from the roof,” he says, laying down the blanket he brought along.  I look around and gasp at the panoramic view of moonlit castles and bodies of water, flames flickering in the winter air. “It gets even better,” he smiles at my amazement, “look up.” I lay down beside him and marvel at the twinkling stars. He leans in, “if you stare long enough, you could pretend you’re floating among the stars.” I look at him then and at his quiet smile. He has no idea his eyes reflect the same beauty he tries to impress me with. 

Day 3: Chocolate vices

“Do you want one?” He asks, offering me a cigarette. “No thanks, I actually like my lungs.” He snickers, “hey, it helps me relax.” “It’s okay, I’m not judging you.” “So no vices at all?” He asks, “alcohol, drugs, whatever?” “Nope, I don’t like feeling out of control. But does chocolate count? I have a notoriously sweet tooth.”

Day 4: Snow bombs

“Take this!” I say, hurling a ball of snow at Mattheo. It catches him square at his shoulder. “Oh you’re going to regret that,” he says, picking up a pile of snow. I run away but he manages to catch my leg. I duck behind a statue, gathering the next snowball. 

Day 5: A quiet day

“This is all your fault,” he says, sniffling into the tissue. I sneeze in response. “We’ve already taken the potion, we’ll be fine by tomorrow.” I snuggle deeper into the blanket, fighting the fever chill in my bones. Mattheo tucks me in his arms. “Come here, we’ll keep each other warm.”

Day 6: Pillow thoughts

“Why do I keep waking in bed with you?” Mattheo asks. “Then stop sleeping beside me,” I wave him off, sleep clouding my mind. I don’t want to, he thinks.

Day 7: Cold hands, warm hearts

“Merry Christmas!” I beam brightly at Mattheo, placing a neatly wrapped present in his hand. “Um, it’s not yet Christmas?” He states, turning the package over in his hands. “Open it!” I urge. “It’s tradition with my mum to give presents early back when she was around. So you have more time to enjoy them.” “Um, thank you.” He tears the package open and wraps the emerald green scarf around him. “Nice and warm, did you make this?” I nod, “with magic!” I wave my wand around. “Do you like it?” He’s quiet for a few moments. “Yes! It’s just…it’s the first time I’ve received a Christmas present. The dark lord doesn’t really do Christmas, it’s why I’m here at winter break.” he waves his hands awkwardly. “We can make it a yearly tradition?” “I’d like that,” he smiles.

Day 8: For the love of eggs

She swore she would never fall in love. Not after seeing what it did to others. Love is all consuming, it takes everything and leaves you hollow when it’s gone. But sitting across him, eating eggs for breakfast, she didn’t think it would be so bad.

Day 9: Frigid hazards

He watched her skate across the pond, hair flying in the wind. She once said he would be the death of her. He thinks it’s the opposite.

Day 10: A flower blooms in winter

“Can I kiss you?” I ask Mattheo. His face lights up. “It would be my pleasure.” 

Day 11: Maybe it’s worth the risk

“Will you be my girlfriend?” “I thought you’d never ask.”

Day 12: Never have I ever before

“Mattheo, please,” I beg. “Please what, baby? Use your words,” he commands. “I need to feel you.” I gasp. “Breathe, angel. It’s okay, you can take it.” I nod, gripping the sheets and feel myself adjust to him. “Good girl, you’re doing so well.” He laces his fingers through mine and kisses my lips, moving into me again. “We’ll start slow, we’ve got all night.”

Christmas Day: On thin ice

“Matty, I’m scared.” “What’s wrong, love?” His brow furrows. “I want this, I want you. But so many things can go wrong,” I say, waving my hands around. “Don’t worry,” he says, brushing my hair from my face. “I won’t hurt you.” “Promise?” “Promise.”

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A/N: We're just three chapters away from the canon ending, then there will be a bonus alt ending. Stay tuned!

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[aziiori]

Random kiss with 5WIRL *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Characters:Venti, Xiao, Kazuha, Heizou, Wanderer (referred to as Scara) x gn reader

Word count:1.5k

Author's note:I do not have ownership of any of the characters mentioned. All rights are from Hoyoverse.

I'm back from the dead (⁠＾⁠∇⁠＾⁠)⁠ﾉ. Enjoy this fanfic I made for everyone!

❥Venti

The moon hung high over Mondstadt as Venti and you strolled through its quiet streets. Laughter echoed in the night as you shared stories and experiences.

Venti grinned mischievously, "You know, there's something special about this place at night. Care for a detour?"

Curiosity sparked in your eyes as you nodded, and he led you to a serene spot near the city square, the moon casting a soft glow on the scene.

Venti turned to you, his emerald eyes reflecting the moonlight. "You ever notice how the night brings out the magic in everything?"

You smiled, captivated by his words. "It does feel different, almost like anything could happen."

He chuckled, "Exactly! Now, let's add a bit more magic." Venti took your hand, guiding you to the edge of a fountain. The water's gentle melody accompanied your steps.

As you stood there, Venti's gaze softened. "You know, I've enjoyed every moment tonight."

You met his eyes, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Me too, Venti. It's been amazing."

The air between you crackled with an unspoken connection. Venti's hand cupped your cheek, and he whispered, "There's one more thing missing from this night."

Before you could respond, his lips met yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. Time seemed to freeze, and the world faded away, leaving only the gentle embrace of that magical moment under the moonlit sky.

❥Xiao

In the enchanting glow of Liyue's moonlit night, you and Xiao found solace on the tranquil terrace of Wangshu Inn. The celestial tapestry above seemed to mirror the ethereal connection between the both of you.

A soft breeze whispered through the bamboo leaves, and you couldn't resist the urge to playfully break the peaceful silence.

"You know," you began with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "legend has it that kissing under starlight grants eternal luck."

Xiao's expression remained stoic, but a faint spark of curiosity gleamed in his eyes. "Legends are mere tales," he replied, his usual detachment betraying a subtle curiosity.

Undeterred, you pointed to a particularly radiant star, its brilliance reflected in their eyes. "Humor me, Xiao. Close your eyes and make a wish. You might be surprised."

With a rare hint of compliance, Xiao closed his eyes. In that fleeting moment, you seized the opportunity and pressed a gentle kiss on Xiao's cheek. The world around both of them seemed to hold its breath, capturing the essence of a magical connection.

As Xiao opened his eyes, a fleeting warmth lingered in his gaze. "I didn't wish for that," he remarked, attempting to maintain his composure. However, a subtle curve at the corner of his lips betrayed a hint of amusement.

You grinned, reveling in the playful banter. "Well, perhaps your wish will still come true. Sometimes, fate works in mysterious ways."

Under the celestial dance of stars, you and Xiao shared a quiet laughter, the stolen kiss leaving a lingering magic in the Liyue night—a moment etched in the canvas of both of your shared adventures.

❥Kazuha

In the heart of Inazuma, where the city's vibrant energy met the tranquility of nature, you and Kazuha found refuge in a hidden garden adorned with blooming sakura trees. The soft glow of lanterns created a delicate play of shadows, casting an enchanting ambiance over the secluded space.

As you strolled through the garden, the distant sound of waves became a distant melody, blending seamlessly with the rustling leaves and the gentle murmur of the evening. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of sakura blossoms, invoking a sense of calm that surrounded both of you.

Kazuha, with his usual poetic charm, spoke, "Inazuma's night carries whispers of stories untold. Each petal, a chapter, and each moment, a verse."

Captivated by his words, you found yourselves beneath a particularly majestic sakura tree. The delicate blossoms seemed to bow in acknowledgment of the connection shared between you and Kazuha.

"In Inazuma, there's a belief that beneath the sakura, one can find moments of serenity," Kazuha confessed, his eyes reflecting the moon's soft glow.

As he gently took your hand, guiding you to a spot bathed in moonlight, the anticipation in the air grew. The subtle brush of his fingers against yours sent a shiver through you, and in that quiet corner of the garden, he leaned in.

Your lips met in a tender kiss, a shared breath beneath the sakura's embrace. Time seemed to stand still, as if the universe itself paused to appreciate the delicate dance of emotions. Sakura petals fluttered around you, creating a dreamlike spectacle, a symphony of nature applauding the blossoming connection between two souls in the heart of Inazuma's magical night.

❥Heizou

Beneath the enchanting moonlit canopy of Inazuma, you and Heizou found yourselves wandering through the serene forest, surrounded by the whispers of leaves and the ethereal dance of fireflies. The night air was filled with an irresistible mystique that seemed to draw you deeper into the heart of nature's embrace.

Heizou, with his quiet yet captivating demeanor, broke the tranquil silence with a thoughtful observation. "This night holds a certain charm, don't you think?" His words carried a subtle melody, echoing the serenity of the night around you. His amber eyes, reflecting the moon's gentle glow, invited you to share in the enchantment.

You nodded in agreement, feeling an unspoken connection that transcended mere words. Continuing through the forest, Heizou led you towards a secluded grove adorned with cherry blossoms. "A beautiful spot," he remarked, his gaze softening with appreciation for the natural beauty surrounding you.

You both found yourselves in a magical setting, the soft glow of cherry blossoms and the gentle rustle of leaves creating a timeless backdrop. "It's magical," you replied, the serenity of the grove enhancing the enchantment of the moment.

Turning to face you, Heizou's subtle smile deepened. "Sometimes, words are unnecessary," he said, his hand gently cupping your face. The warmth of his touch resonated with a silent understanding that transcended verbal communication.

In that quiet grove, beneath the moon's watchful gaze, the connection between you and Heizou deepened. The air crackled with anticipation as Heizou leaned in, and your lips met in a soft, lingering kiss. The moonlight painted a celestial portrait of your shared moment, capturing the delicate intimacy of the night.

As you parted, you found yourself lost in the depth of Heizou's olive eyes, a silent promise exchanged between you two. "A promise made in the moonlight," he whispered, his words lingering in the night air like a secret shared between kindred souls.

Hand in hand, you continued your journey through the grove, the night breeze carrying whispers of your shared moment. The cherry blossoms above, stirred by a gentle breeze, showered you both with delicate petals, a celestial celebration of the connection blossoming in the heart of Inazuma. And above it all, the moon smiled down, a silent witness to the beginning of a beautiful romance.

❥Wanderer (Scara)

In the vibrant city of Sumeru, where the pursuit of knowledge echoed through grand libraries and scholarly debates, you found yourself strolling through the market square with Scaramouche. Once a member of the Fatui, he now wandered the streets with a newfound sense of freedom.

"Quite the change of pace, isn't it?" Scaramouche remarked, observing the lively energy of Sumeru's diverse culture. His eyes, usually sharp and mischievous, reflected a hint of genuine curiosity.

You nodded in agreement, "Sumeru has a different charm, away from the problems and duties of the Fatui."

Finding a quiet alcove, away from the city's commotion, Scaramouche turned to you with a smirk. "You know, I never thought I'd enjoy wandering these streets without the weight of the Fatui's schemes on my shoulders."

A chuckle escaped your lips. "It's a relief to be free from all that, isn't it?"

Seated on a bench beneath the glow of lanterns, Scaramouche's hand found yours. The touch was unexpectedly tender, and he looked at you with a softness that contradicted his usual sharp demeanor.

"Strange, isn't it?" he mused, his gaze lingering on yours. "The quiet moments in the heart of the chaos."

Your smile mirrored his sentiment. "Sometimes, unexpected moments become the most cherished."

As the night unfolded its celestial canvas above, you and Scaramouche delved into deeper conversations, sharing stories of your pasts and dreams for the future. The air was filled with a sense of newfound connection, an unspoken understanding that transcended the barriers of faction and duty.

Under the celestial dance of stars, Scaramouche leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that spoke volumes of liberation and shared understanding. The ambient sounds of Sumeru transformed into a symphony of shared moments, and time seemed to linger in that space between heartbeats.

As he pulled back, Scaramouche's eyes held a mix of surprise and satisfaction. "Well, who would've thought? Sumeru's streets hold more than just ancient scrolls and dusty tomes," he teased, a genuine warmth softening his words.

And so, in the heart of Sumeru, amidst whispered knowledge and cultural wonders, you shared a quiet, liberated kiss with Scaramouche, weaving your narrative in the vibrant tapestry of the city. The night continued, a canvas of shared moments awaiting in the streets of Sumeru.

I had a blast writing this, and I guarantee that you can expect more captivating stories from me this week!

I worked hard on this and I do not allow any form of translation, copying, or plagiarism. Cooperation is appreciated.

©aziiori 02/03/24

#aziiori writings☂ #☁️aziiori fluff #genshin venti #genshin xiao #genshin kazuha #genshin heizou #genshin wanderer #genshin x reader #genshin impact

[umbralsound-xiv]

"Married... We are married.

I can scarcely describe the feeling in my chest. So what, if i forgot the paper with my vows in the end? It did not matter, i spoke from the heart, and now...?

An eternity together. Or at the very least, as long as the gods will let us have. Perhaps i should pray to them more. Perhaps they are listening?

We came home to congratulations and well-wishes, ready for our honeymoon ahead. The boat would take us the next sun, away to Thavnair...

It has been so long since i have been... But i cannot wait to show her. To make so many memories together...

...Starting with those."

#Muse: [Eir] #Duet: [Winter Moon] #Chapter: [Moonlit Moments] #FFXIV #IC #Screenshot #Writing #Musing

[bellofthemeadow]

Dawn Ends the Night - Interlude

Aemond Targaryen x FemReader (Dayne)

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Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 3.5K

Warning: All warnings on the Series Masterlist, will update if necessary (Re-iterating, no minors allowed! Thank you)

Chapter Summary: Every morning, at dawn, for the past fortnight you meet Aemond Targaryen. Will today change things for the better between you two?

Notes: Hello everyone!!! I am writing earlier because I had this scene in my head that I could not fit into a regular plot-driven chapter because it was so long. So instead I turned it into a little interlude between chapters 4 and 5. It focuses on our favourite couple and if you have a thing for the whole regency "OMG THEY GRAZE EACH OTHER!" You will like that one. Its a bit angsty but with loads of fluff at the end. Hope you like it and like always LMK what you all think!

Thank you again to all of you who take the time to comment, like and reblog, you are all so kind and I love you all so much!!! 💜💚💜

See you in the next one xxx

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At Dawn

In Starfall, you had been a ghost, haunting its ancient halls. You cherished the late hours, those quiet moments under the cover of darkness where the sky was a canvas of stars. To you, each star was not just a celestial spark but a guardian soul, a sentinel silently watching over the world from the heavens – you imagined they were looking after you when you needed them the most. This nightly ritual, however, came at a cost — mornings often found you rising late, the consequence of surrendering to the tranquil embrace of moonlit solitude. 

In King's Landing, the luxuries of being a ghost were behind you. Now, well before the first golden rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon, with the dawn barely painting the sky in hues of timid pink and soft orange, Prince Aemond would be at your door ready to eat his morning meal in your company.   

Yawning, you gathered your hair, weaving it into a simple yet elegant half-up, half-down style. It framed your face in a way you found particularly becoming. But these early hours beckoned for self-sufficiency as you didn’t wish to disturb your handmaiden at such a time. Thus, you had grown accustomed to readying yourself alone in the quiet of dawn, opting for dresses that required no assistance to don. Today, you chose one of your favorites, a dress perhaps a tad too short by King’s Landing standards, ending mid-calf. Its design was a mixture of airy fabrics and light silks that embraced your form in a flattering caress, and its deep blue hue complemented your complexion beautifully. 

Gently, you pressed your fingers to your cheeks, coaxing a rosy flush to the surface. Despite the early hour, it was important to you to look and feel your best. Right on schedule, the familiar, soft knocking at the door signaled his arrival, accompanied by a gentle, "My lady," floating through the wood. A smile spread across your face at the sound. Each dawn spent with Aemond only deepened your desire to spend more time in his company. To learn all you could about this dragonrider, this will-be husband. 

You gave yourself a final glance in the mirror before sauntering towards the door. With a playful lilt in your voice, you called out, "And who might be serenading my door at this ungodly hour?" 

From the other side came Aemond's mock-serious reply, "My lady, should there be another suitor at your door at this time, I fear I must step in to defend my betrothed honor. A fight to the death perhaps?" 

Your laughter rang out, rich and unrestrained, as you swung the door open. Leaning casually against the frame, hand perched on your hip, you greeted him teasingly, "Ah, what a sight – A fierce dragon graces my doorstep." 

Aemond rolled his eye, the man teetering between amusement and exasperation, before offering a polite bow of his head. Over his shoulder, you caught sight of Perros, his expression a perfect study in stoic disapproval. Ever since these dawn meetings with Aemond had become a routine, Perros had appointed himself your unofficial chaperone. Chaperoning had never been a tested custom of Dornish culture, but due to his protective nature, Perros had still not warmed up one bit to the idea of the betrothal, even after a fortnight under the Targaryen royal roof and he was looking for anything to hold against Aemond. 

You stepped aside, allowing room for Aemond and Perros to enter. Perros, ever the vigilant guardian, promptly made his way to his usual spot in the corner. There, he brooded, his gaze sharp and watchful, tracking every interaction between you and Aemond with hawk-like intensity. 

You recalled a morning some days ago when Aemond, in a rare moment of clumsiness, had spilled some jam on your sleeve. His instinctive move to dab it away had provoked an instantaneous reaction from Perros, who leapt to his feet, his voice laced with protective fervor as he reprimanded you both for the supposedly improper contact. The moment had ended with you and Aemond awkwardly distancing yourselves, while Perros took up a stern post at your table on the small balcony, arms crossed in silent disapproval. Aemond had sported a look of utter vexation, his face tinged with a hint of pink, huffing, while you couldn't help but shoot a glare at Perros for his overzealous protectiveness. 

You led Aemond to the quaint table on the balcony, its surface crowded with an assortment of dishes. Your taste buds, having grown accustomed to the vibrant spices and flavors of Dorne, found the typical Westerosi cuisine rather uninspiring. Consequently, you had developed a preference for simpler fare – delicate cakes accompanied by soft Vale cheese and a sweet red-berry jam from the Reach, as you could not stomach anything else. If you were to live here, you would need to have a cook brought from Sunspear, you thought. 

As you both settled into your seats, a serene quietude enveloped the balcony. The early morning light cast a soft glow on Aemond, accentuating his regal features and rendering him even more striking than usual. You caught yourself momentarily captivated by his appearance and quickly composed yourself. It wouldn't do to let on just how much your betrothed affected you. 

"I trust you had a restful night, Prince Aemond?" you inquired softly, putting some berries on your plate. 

"Fairly restful," Aemond replied, spreading cheese over a slice of bread. "However, I was somewhat vexed last night. I had intended to read 'The History of Dragon Anatomy' from the library, only to find it had already been taken out. The Maester there mentioned a young lady had taken it just after dinner. Curious, since I had expressed my interest in that very book earlier in the day, to that same lady." 

You glanced at him coyly. "How frustrating for you. Perhaps this lady simply wished to delve into subjects that intrigue you, my prince." 

Aemond let out a thoughtful hum, carefully layering jam on another slice of bread before placing it on your plate. "And..." he prompted. 

"And what, my prince?" you asked, feigning innocence. 

"Did you find the book to your liking?" Aemond's tone was casual, but his eye held a playful glint as he took a bite of his cheesy bread. 

Your gaze lingered on Aemond as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing quite attractively. The sight inexplicably left your own throat feeling parched. 

"The book was quite fascinating," you commented, "Particularly the chapter on dragon scales and their resistance to various metals. In Dorne, we don't have many resources on dragons, so it was a nice change of literature." 

Aemond let out a soft scoff. "I imagine not. It would not be wise to provide our enemies with knowledge about how to defeat our dragons. Some would probably say it would be insanity" 

Your eyebrows drew together in a frown. "Enemies?" 

Aemond paused, meeting your gaze with a hint of uncertainty. "Old enemies, perhaps. You must understand the strategic folly in sharing dragon lore with those who have historically sought to bring them down. Our betrothal itself hinges on the long-standing enmity between Dorne and Targaryen’s dragons." 

You bristled at his words. "Perhaps if dragons were not made to attack and lay claim to our lands, the sentiment towards them in Dorne would be different!" 

Aemond's eye narrowed, a defensive edge creeping into his voice. "House Targaryen united Westeros by right of conquest. We are neither thieves nor invaders." 

"Right of conquest?" you echoed incredulously. "Dorne was never conquered. Your ancestors never succeeded in bringing Dorne under their rule!" 

Breakfast now lay neglected as you both locked gazes, each unwilling to yield, to be the first to lower the proverbial banner. 

Aemond broke the silence with a measured tone, "Well, here you are now, in King's Landing. So, perhaps the past should remain just that." 

Your response was edged with a hint of bitterness. "There's no need to remind me of my place here, Prince Aemond. Your views on my people, and by extension on me, seem quite clear. It must be such a burden to align your esteemed dragon lineage with mine.” 

Aemond's eye flickered slightly, a shadow of discomfort crossing his face. "You exaggerate, my lady. I did not imply any such thing." 

"Of course, my apologies," you replied, the sharpness in your voice unmistakable. Gathering his plate, you stacked it atop yours, a clear signal of the meal's end. "I trust your breakfast was satisfactory, Prince Aemond. However, I need to prepare for the day. I promised your sister I would meet with her." 

Aemond seemed momentarily taken aback, his composed facade faltering. "But we've only just begun, and you've yet to enjoy your favorite jam. Why leave so abruptly?" 

"I wouldn't want to impose any longer," you said, your tone firm yet polite. "It might be best for you to leave now Prince Aemond." 

A thick silence enveloped the room, heavy with unvoiced sentiments. Prince Aemond, his jaw set in a firm line, rose abruptly from his seat. His movements were rigid, each step resonating with barely restrained anger as he made his way to the door. Upon reaching the threshold, he paused, turning to face you with a stiff, formal inclination of his head. "My lady," he uttered, his voice a strained whisper of formality. Then, with a swift motion, he opened the door and exited, the slam echoing with a finality that reverberated through the room. The resounding closure seemed loud enough to stir the entire wing, making you flinch. 

Seated alone at the table, you gazed out towards the horizon, where the sun had begun to cast a golden glow over the morning sky. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you leaned forward, resting your head on your crossed arms atop the table. A soft groan of frustration echoed the turmoil within. 

Had you overreacted? Aemond's words about Dorne's historical enmity with the Targaryens weren't unfounded, but his tone, dismissive and tinged with superiority, had struck a nerve. Your Dornish pride, a deep-rooted part of your identity, felt belittled in his presence. It was as if he had trampled upon the history and struggles of your people, reducing them to mere irritants in the grand Targaryen narrative. 

Perhaps your reaction had been too impulsive, or maybe your expectations of Aemond were too lofty. The romantic notions you’d harbored, fueled by the tales and books you’d devored in Starfall, seemed naive now in the harsh light of the morning. Yet, Aemond’s daily visits, those moments that had started to become a cherished routine, suggested that maybe there was something more. Had you misconstrued his intentions, read too much into what was merely a princely obligation? The very thought of it twisted in your chest. You were confused and could feel a strange feeling of longing coiling deep within your stomach.  

"My lady?" The concern in Perros's voice pulled you from your introspective reverie.  

"Mmm?" you hummed, your voice muffled against your arms, still not lifting your head.  

"Are you well, my lady?" He inquired gently, worry edging in his tone.  

"You must be feeling vindicated," you said, lifting your head to meet Perros's gaze, your laughter tinged with a hint of bitterness. "It seems Prince Aemond has made his views about me quite clear." 

Perros regarded you with a steady, thoughtful look. "I've never been fond of him, true. He's too princely, too arrogant. He's not worthy of you," he admitted, and you couldn't help but let out a small, teary chuckle. 

"I guess now is the perfect time for your 'I told you so,'" you remarked wryly. 

"But," Perros cut in, his tone shifting, "I can't ignore how he looks at you. From the very first day we arrived, he's been drawn to you like a moth to a flame. It's like you're the Maiden reborn in his eyes. And..” Perros took a breath for effect, "I suppose I might have judge the prince too harshly too... I was not to tell you, but Prince Aemond has been joining Davos and me during our training sessions in the yard.”  

"He has?" You exclaimed, turning to face Perros - The image of Aemond, a prince of the realm, spending his time with little davos was a stark contrast to the man you had argued with only moments ago. 

"Yes," Perros nodded. "He's been taking time to teach Davos the basics of swordplay. You should see the boy's face light up. The prince has a way with him, showing patience I didn't think possible. It's as if he sees something of himself in Davos. The lad's been boasting about it to anyone who'll listen, his chest puffed up with pride. Keep saying it’ll go to his head, but the lad is excited, the prince even said he’d show him that great beast of his. " 

A thoughtful frown creased your forehead. "But why keep it a secret? Why didn't Aemond mention it? Why didn't Davos?" 

Perros shrugged slightly, a faint smile touching his lips. "I suspect the prince isn't doing it for praise or recognition. Maybe he just wanted to help, to do something good without any fanfare. It's not something I expected from him, but with all my years, I’ve learned that people, even princes, can stil surprise us." 

As you pondered his words, Perros placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding. "Speak with him, my lady," Perros advised gently, his voice carrying a wisdom born of years. "Whether he's a princely dragon or not, it's always better to clear the air, especially with matters of the heart.” 

You offered a small, contemplative smile. "Perhaps you're right, Perros. I might just do that." 

Just then, a series of knocks echoed at the door, you released a weary sigh, wondering aloud, "Do you think that the noise might have woken up mother?" 

Perros straightened, ready to take action. "Shall I see who it is, my lady?" 

"No, no, it's alright," you quickly responded, waving a hand dismissively. "It's probably mother, or Gerris and Davos. They have this habit of barging into my room to start their day. They find it amusing, I suppose."  

But as you opened the door, it was neither your mother, nor Gerris, nor Davos – Standing before you was Aemond. His usually neatly styled hair was slightly disheveled, as if he had been anxiously running his fingers through it, and his solitary eye, usually so sharp and focused, now held a wild, almost frantic quality as he gazed at you 

Finally breaking the silence, you found your voice ; “Prince Aemond?”  

You were momentarily caught off guard as Aemond pulled you into his arms, his embrace firm yet cautious, tentative as though he was handling something precious and fragile. His body, usually so rigid and imposing, now enveloped you with a breath-stealing, protective warmth, contrasting sharply with the slightness of your own form.  

His face buried in your hair, Aemond seemed to be seeking a sort of solace, his breath slow and deep. You could feel the slight quiver in his chest and for a moment, you stood there, unsure, your body rigid in his embrace. But as he inhaled, as if drawing strength from your presence, you felt a surge of want wash over you. 

Tentatively, your arms wound around his back, your touch light, almost hesitant. The contours of his body under your fingers felt like the unyielding walls of a fortress, yet there was a tenderness in his hold that belied his outward appearance. The sensation of his breath warming the nape of your neck sent a shiver down your spine, and his voice, thick with emotion, resonated against your soft skin. "I am sorry for my words, my lady. They were careless and unkind," he murmured, his tone laced with a rare vulnerability. "Please, I am sorry. I ask for your forgiveness, but more than that, I beg you, do not shut me out. Not when I feel like I have only begun to know you." 

His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if fearing you might slip away, his voice a soft whisper against your hair. "You have every right to turn away from me, yet I find myself selfishly hoping you will not. In you, I've seen a kindness, a strength that I have longed for. Please, my lady, grant me the chance to prove that I am more than my harsh words and hasty judgments." 

Nestling closer into his hold, you felt a wave of understanding wash over you. "Perhaps I, too, was quick to judge," you admitted softly. "Your words, though harsh, weren't entirely unfounded. Our kingdoms have been locked in conflict for so long, and both have suffered greatly. It's just that..." You paused, taking a deep breath, grappling with the words that lay heavy on your heart. "I understand the reasons for our union – duty, family, the realm, the crown. But still..." Your voice trailed off, laden with unspoken hopes and fears. 

Aemond gently lifted his head from yours, their foreheads meeting in a tender, earnest touch. For the first time since your encounter, you were close, close enough to see the subtle hues in his remaining eye, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. "I too wish for more, my lady, more than you could possibly imagine," he confessed, his voice a soft echo of your own longing. 

A timid smile touched your lips, a flicker of the young woman who once dreamt under the stars, the girl who laughed freely. "Back in Starfall, they used to say I was like a ghost. After Gerris was announced as the future lord, I lost a part of myself. I never thought I'd find that girl again – the one who could marvel at the stars, who loved to read and laugh without care." Your smile grew, a hint of old joy resurfacing. "But with you, Aemond... when I'm with you, I feel as if... as if I'm finding her again." 

Aemond's smile, a rare and genuine thing, mirrored your own. "And I," he confessed, "feel something I feared was long lost in me too." 

Perros's conspicuous throat-clearing echoed in the room, startling both of you into stepping apart, faces flushed with the sudden intensity of the moment. You shot Perros a glare, one that he met with a raised eyebrow and a look that managed to be both unimpressed and protective. 

Aemond, regaining his composure with a soft cough, glanced toward the door. "I must take my leave, my lady. Ser Criston awaits me in the training yard, and I dare not keep my sister from you company as she probably awaits you for her early morning beetle hunt," he said. 

Your smile returned, a gentle curve of lips that hinted at the warmth you felt inside. "Of course, my prince. Dawn tomorrow then?" 

Aemond hesitated, an unusual shyness in his demeanor as he paused at the door. "Actually, I was wondering if I might join you in the afternoon? You spend time with your brother and Davos then, right?" 

"Oh, you needn't trouble yourself. Heleana usually takes the twins along, and we all enjoy the gardens together," you explained. 

He hummed thoughtfully. "Nevertheless, I would like to be there. To spend time with those you care about." 

A genuine smile graced your face. "Then after midday it is." 

As Aemond began to exit, he paused once more, turning slightly toward you. "And perhaps after dinner, I could meet you in the library? I could show you more books about dragons. I read them all as a child." 

Your smile deepened, warmth spreading through you at the thought. "I would be delighted to receive literary recommendations from the realm's most renowned dragon rider." 

Aemond's response was a shy smile, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. He nodded silently, a gesture that spoke volumes of his growing affection, before finally stepping out of the room. 

Left in the quiet room, you felt an unfamiliar sensation, a fluttering lightness in your chest, like a bird cautiously testing its wings after a long confinemen. With a dreamy smile lingered on your lips, you turned to face Perros, who stood near the small table, you caught the hint of a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes held a mix of amusement and something softer that you had trouble deciphering, perhaps a reluctant acceptance of the scene he had just witnessed. 

With a mock groan, you raised your hand, preempting any comments he might have. "Do not say anything, Perros." 

His smile broadened, but he raised his hands in mock surrender. "I wouldn't dream of it, my lady," he replied teasingly. 

Shaking your head with a mix of exasperation and fondness, you moved past Perros towards the door. "I have a busy day ahead," you remarked, "And it seems I now have plans for after dinner as well." 

Next chapter

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x fem!oc #aemond targaryen x ofc #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #fanfic #fanfiction #prince aemond #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond x oc #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x female reader #house of the dragon #house targaryen #hurt/comfort #house of the dragon aemond #hotd

[zapreportsblog]

Sukuna’s Godly Husband

➥ summary : Yumi (M/n) had originally been offered up to the King of Curses, Sukuna as a sacrificial bride for his people so that they may be spared. In other words he was a lamb waiting to be slaughtered but something unexpectedly happened the King of Curses Sukuna took the human in to his temple and under the engraved stone walls, Yumi (M/n) had been declared the bride of Sukuna, forced to bare his marking on his shoulder and stripped of his human name.

➥ chapter 3: The King of Curses' Divine Decree

In the depths of a moonlit night, within the shadowed halls of an ancient castle, a male sacrificial bride knelt before the throne of the King of Curses. The air was heavy with a foreboding energy, crackling with power as the king contemplated the fate of the young soul before him. The bride, with trepidation in his heart, awaited his destiny.

With a commanding presence, the King of Curses rose from his seat, his black robe billowing around him like an ethereal cloud. His piercing eyes glowed with an otherworldly light as he peered deep into the very essence of the sacrificial bride. The king's voice, rich and resonant, reverberated through the chamber as he spoke with a chilling authority.

"You, my chosen one," the king declared, his words sending shivers down the bride's spine, "from this moment forth, you shall relinquish your old name. A new identity shall be bestowed upon you, one that carries the weight of destiny and the mark of my curse."

The bride, trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation, nodded in humble obedience, preparing to leave his past behind and embrace the unknown future that awaited him. He had been prepared for sacrifice, but this unexpected twist seemed to offer a different path—one that sent both hope and apprehension coursing through his veins.

The king's gaze never wavered as he chanted an incantation, calling upon the ancient forces of darkness that lay dormant within the castle's walls. The air thickened, charged with an electric energy, as the nameless bride's destiny was woven into the tapestry of fate. It was a moment that would forever change the course of his life.

Finally, the King of Curses spoke the words that would seal the bride's new existence. "From now on, you shall go by the name," he paused for a moment, savoring the anticipation, "Yael."

Yael. The name echoed in the chamber, carrying with it an air of mystery and enigma. It was a name laden with power and significance, marking the bride's transformation from a mere mortal to a vessel of the king's divine will.

But the king's decree did not end there. With a wave of his hand, he summoned a shimmering mist that enveloped Yael, swirling and dancing around him like ethereal tendrils. As the mist cleared, a new feature adorned Yael's countenance—an intricate tattoo, a mark of the curse's blessing, in the shape of a serpent coiling around a sword.

"And as a symbol of your new identity," the king intoned, "you shall bear this mark upon your left shoulder. Let it serve as a reminder of your eternal connection to the world of curses and the power that courses through your veins."

Yael, now adorned with the mark of the curse, felt a surge of energy course through his body. The weight of his new name and the responsibilities it entailed settled upon him, mingling with the remnants of fear that still lingered within his heart. He knew that his life would never be the same again, that he was bound to a destiny far greater than he had ever imagined.

As Yael rose from his kneeling position, the King of Curses nodded, his approval evident in his inscrutable gaze. "Go forth, Yael," the king commanded, his voice commanding and final. "Embrace your new identity, for you are now forever intertwined with the realm of curses. Your path shall be one of trials and tribulations, but through it all, you shall wield a power that few can comprehend."

With those words lingering in the air, Yael took his first step into the unknown. The castle's doors swung open, revealing a world transformed by the king's curse—a world of shadows, magic, and untold secrets. Yael, the newly anointed bride of curses, would tread upon this path, bearing his new name and the mark of the king's divine decree, destined to confront the challenges that lay ahead.

And thus, as Yael ventured forth, the king's male sacrificial bride became a figure of both fear and fascination, a living embodiment of the King of Curses' power. The tale of Yael, forever etched in the annals of history, would echo through the ages, a testament to the enduring legacy of a name and a curse that defied all expectations.

#sukuna x male reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna #x reader #x reader series #x male reader #sukuna’s godly husband series #sukuna godly husband #Sukuna’s Godly Husband masterlist #jujutsu kaisen masterlist

[dreadheadmadi]

- I’M GONNA CLAW THOSE PRETTY LITTLE EYES OUT

Chapter 1

A/N: If you enjoyed this chapter, let me know by reblogging or just dm me! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I hope you have a wonderful day or night, bye angel!

BLACKWOOD MANOR loomed on the outskirts of New York like a gothic monolith, its sprawling grounds shrouded in mist and mystery; its imposing design was a testament to the wealth and power of its enigmatic owner, the elusive billionaire Alexander Blackwood. The grandeur of the mansion enveloped the night like a cloak of decadence, its opulence a stark contrast to the darkness that seeped through its polished corridors.

Usually, the manor would lay dormant and dark, with no sounds or persons going in or out. However, tonight was a special night, a masquerade-themed birthday, of whom it belonged to but none other than Alexander Blackwood's spouse. She was different from her loner husband - a city girl and an active member of New York's rich folk. Such a figure would earn as many friends and connections as possible - and she invited them all. Within the manor's walls, the wealthy elite danced and revealed, their laughter echoing against the marble floors as they indulged in the spoils of their privilege.

Among them, Alexander's favorite niece, Sofia Blackwood, navigated the sea of masked faces, her steps hesitant as she struggled to mask her discomfort beneath a façade of poise and grace. That night, she mustered the courage to ask her uncle to fund her college education, considering that her parents disapproved of her choice of study and promised to cut ties if she pursued it.

The air was heavy with the scent of expensive perfumes and the sickly sweetness of excess, but beneath it, a palpable tension lurked—a sense of impending doom that clung to the shadows like a vengeful specter. As the night wore on and inhibitions faded, Sofia was drawn to a secluded balcony overlooking the sprawling gardens below. She needed a moment to think, to gather herself before locating her uncle. Taking deep breaths, Sofia closed her eyes before looking at the scenery. A small smile appeared as she reminisced about when her uncle would play tag with her in the garden - tiny Sofia would run around the hedges, past the fountain, and up the staircase leading back to the manor as Alexander chased her. As her eyes followed the path, her smile quickly dropped as a cold chill shot through her blood.

There, amidst the ivy-covered trellises and moonlit fountains, she stumbled upon a sight that would forever haunt her nightmares. A figure lay sprawled across the cold stone tiles—a man, his once-immaculate tuxedo now stained with the crimson evidence of his demise. His eyes, wide with terror, stared unseeing into the night while multiple grotesque gashes marred his throat, the blood still warm and viscous against his pallid skin.

Sofia recoiled in horror, bile rising in her throat as she struggled to comprehend the brutality of the scene before her. The metallic tang of blood filled her nostrils, and she fought to suppress the urge to hurl as the reality of the situation washed over her in sickening waves. Instead of vomit coming out of her mouth, a guttural, heart-wrenching shriek replaced it. Multiple footsteps rush towards her before halting abruptly, filling the evening atmosphere with their wails. Around her, the party descended into chaos, the revelry shattered by the specter of death that now loomed over them all. Sofia was grabbed by her mother and father and ushered into an enclosed room where she finally regurgitated her evening meal onto the pristine marble floors.

Guests screamed and fled in panic, their masks slipping in their haste to escape the scene of the carnage unfolding before their eyes. All but one remained rooted to the spot, their gaze fixed on the lifeless form before them. Taking off their mask reveals a Black man with a scowl so deep in hatred that one would have thought he was the one who committed the murder. His dark brown eyes glower down at the body before being covered by the full face mask again. Quickly, he returned to the building, stomping down the velvet-covered stairs and pushing his way to the front of the small crowd around the crime scene.

As the crowd prayed, cried, and cursed the murderer to hell, the man's eyes focused on the wound on his neck. The gashes weren't a nice clean slice as if it were with a standard knife; they were thinner, deeper, and jagged with bits of flesh dangling and sticking out on the sides. No, a knife hadn't done this, but a set of claws-

"It was the Prowler!" a voice declared, "Look at the claw marks! That fucking bastard killed Alex!"

"I heard he's working with Fisk now. That fucking mammoth hated Alexander," another voice added, "He probably put a hit out."

"But on his wife's birthday? At a big event like this when we're all here?" A third chimed in. The second shook his head while pointing to Alexander's dead body.

"You don't know those men like I do; Alex was his number one enemy. When Fisk's family died, he asked Alex to help with some investments on some secret project; the hell if I know what it is. Alex said the fucker went batshit crazy when he lost his wife and was all over the news saying it too. It was supposed to be a wake-up call, but Fisk took that as disrespect and has been an enemy to the Blackwood family ever since. Dropping sponsorships, buying out companies, blocking his political power, I know that son of a bitch got something to do with this!"

The first voice suddenly reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a gun. "Fuck," he spat, "Fuck, fuck! To fucking hell with Fisk! I was THIS close to buying off those fucking votes! All that money gone to shit - where the FUCK is that purple bastard?! I'm putting a bullet through his head and then into Fisk's next!" With the sudden uproar, the first voice stormed back into the manor, which prompted others to do the same, all looking for the Prowler. He was already gone, however - he snuck out of the manor and into the thicket surrounding the manor, climbing onto his motorcycle and speeding off towards Brooklin. As he blares down the road, he tears off his mask again - brown eyes darkened as a single thought runs through his head.

That bitch stole my fucking kill.

Aaron swore to his momma that he’d never hit a girl, but this bitch was asking for it. It wasn’t the first time Black Cat had killed someone on his list; no, it’s been months since their first encounter. But for how long will this keep happening? The year is almost over, and he’s only been responsible for the deaths of four unlucky souls. Four, while she had six. Five of which were stolen right from his grasp. To say he was upset is an understatement. Annoyed? Oh, that’s long gone. Pissed? Maybe two months ago. Enraged? Closer, but not quite.

It’s gotten to the point where his work has become sloppy - disregarding his usual planned and strategic approach for a quicker and easier route just in case she was around. One time he even took a gunshot to his shoulder because of his blatant tunnel vision - Fisk gave him shit for it and benched him for a few weeks to heal before shoving him back into work. Aaron figures he’s going to be hooked on painkillers for a long while.

Speaking of the Kingpin, Aaron wasn’t sure how to explain what happened tonight, hell he doesn’t even know what happened tonight. All he knew was that he had only been at the party for around fifteen to twenty minutes before Sophia’s screams were heard. The party had only been going on for about ten minutes before he arrived, so within that thirty-minute window, Black Cat had arrived at the party, isolated Alexander, and killed him.

Based on his wounds, Aaron deduced that they weren’t deep enough to make a swift and easy kill. As he studied the evidence photos of Alexander after he hacked into the BPD police files, he zoomed in closely on the gashes. While it did look like claw marks, they were uneven and choppy. It wasn’t a clean strike either - it was slanted and angled more vertically than anything. A clear indication of a height difference, Aaron noted.

Alexander was six feet tall exactly; if Black Cat had struggled to get to his neck, she’d be closer to five feet in height, five feet and five inches at max. Aaron paused and wondered if she were wearing heels or platforms that night - it would make sense, considering she’d have to blend into a masquerade-styled party. That would put her shorter than five feet and five inches, the average height for women in Brooklyn. He wrote that down on a notepad and kept examining the photos.

The pieces of flesh that stuck out kept drawing his attention. It looked like the results of his prototype claw gauntlets. They were made of random and uncut metals that weren't accurately measured or maintained. The metal would often be too sharp or dull and get stuck underneath the victim’s skin due to the curvature of the claws. Once he drew back his hand, he would quite literally rip out the area of flesh he had made contact with. While it got the job done, it was a messy and loud kill, prompting him to update his weapon.

It was evident to Aaron that Black Cat’s weapon was similar to his prototype; however, one thing still bothered him - it was a silent kill. The initial contact had been on the side of his neck, still leaving enough airway to scream out for help or in pain. No one heard anything, and according to the witness statements, no one had noticed that Alexander was not present at the party. Aaron frowned at that detail - Alexander Blackwood wasn’t stupid. Someone, be it a guard or even his wife, had to have known he was separating himself from the partygoers. A man who has many enemies wouldn’t dare leave without alerting someone.

Another thing that bothered him was that Alexander wasn’t some snobby old rich guy. Blackwood was a black belt in his youth; he competed in and eventually founded various boxing matches and fight clubs across the United States. He was highly trained in artillery and probably would have been a military commander by now if he wasn’t in control of New York’s corrupt legal system. Simply put, Alexander Blackwood was a force to be reckoned with, just to be cut down by some female in a black leather jumpsuit. It just didn’t make sense.

All of Black Cat’s six kills before Alexander Blackwood had been young men and women of minor importance—quick money, as Aaron called it. The targets Fisk had assigned to the Prowler were gang leaders, drug dealers, and old henchmen whom Fisk no longer needed. This jump from stepping on an ant to straight-up maiming a lion was highly unusual for some uptown thief in a bodysuit. A whole year with little to no gains was starting to get to the mercenary; he needed to get to the bottom of this shit and quickly.

Aaron rubbed his hand across his face and turned towards another monitor, clicking on Google and searching up “Black Cat Brooklin.” He was hoping something new would pop up, but all he found were a few articles and stories he’d already researched.

There was a video that had gone viral a month ago; it was the CCTV footage of a jewelry store that the villainess had broken into. She wore her classic attire, mask, and a white straightened angled bob. Strolling around the store, she opened the displays and bagged all the merchandise, even trying on some and posing in a mirror hanging on the wall. Afterward, she shouldered the duffel bag, blew a kiss at the camera, and left out of the vent system she had used to get into the building. The uproar on memes and parodies of the event were all over Aaron’s feed for days. Women were gushing over her bad bitch aura, creating fan pages, and even going out and buying white wigs, dyes, and bundles just to look like her. And, of course, the men were practically fapping their dicks, saying how she was too delicate to go to prison, how they too would steal some shit in this economy; they were lowkey gassing her up more than the women did.

Aaron didn’t care enough to have an opinion; at that time, she was just some thief. But it’s different now, he thought, she’s more than a thief, she’s a killer. This year was the first year of her dipping her toes into homicide, and from Aaron’s knowledge, she hadn’t even been caught yet. Aaron wondered if those men and women would still support her after it’s exposed that she killed six people in over a year, but he figured they probably still would - the world is fucking crazy nowadays.

Right now at the moment, he was just mindlessly scrolling, clicking on the fan pages and profiles for any information he could gain on her. And then, after refreshing for the tenth time, a new video popped up titled “BLACK CAT HAS A NEW WEAPON (and it reminds me of someone 🤔) | New Look, New Tactics.” Aaron immediately clicked on the video and recognized the person in the commentary as an influencer who was one of the ones who made the robbing video famous by creating a whole trend based on it. The video started with random filler topics, which Aaron graciously skipped through before getting down to the central part of the video.

“Okay, guys, so let’s get to the tea; last night, Black Cat was seen scaling buildings and rooftops downtown with a new look, baby! Let’s look at what Miss Cat got going on for us,” the influencer starts, clicking on a Twitter thread showing a few off-guard pictures and videos of the thief.

“Oh, my God, you guys! Look at that fur, okay, hold on, I’m getting ahead of myself,” she laughed before viewing the first picture and zooming in. “Okay, first thing’s first, that hair, baby! Miss Cat said new hair, new me, and rocking this new do! Gone is her angled bob, replaced with these cute goddess passion twists; I love this! Of course, it’s colored in her signature platinum. Is it platinum? Platinum feels more yellow to me, maybe just plain white? Or maybe more like a frosty white, you know? Yeah, let’s go with that, haha! Edges are laid to perfection, makeup always looking fresh, ugh I’m telling all of you Miss Cat needs to open up shop cause I would pay-“

Aaron skipped ahead a little more; it’s nothing new that Black Cat constantly changed up her hairstyle and makeup looks. It's a smart move, considering how easy it is to track someone nowadays. Her indecisiveness is the sole reason no one has found out who she is; by the time they get comfortable with one look, it’s on to the next.

“Alright, so let’s talk about this new suit. So, I do get why most people say this isn’t a new suit. I mean, it is just the same suit with more fur, probably to keep warm since we are in winter, but I like to call it a new suit solely for these!” The influencer moves to the following picture, a close-up of Black Cat’s arms - which had two slender gauntlets with claw-like attachments. Aaron sat up and leaned towards the screen. Those looked familiar - real fucking familiar.

“That’s right, guys, Black Cat has a new weapon! This kitty has claws, and she is not afraid to use them! Many people say they love it; it’s on brand with the whole cat thing and a way better choice than the staff she used. I love the claws; they bring her a new, dangerous vibe. Like, before, she was just this common thief we all made jokes about, but now it’s like, damn, she's pretty serious about this. Miss Cat said to put some respect on her name; she isn’t any weak runt of the litter; she is THE Black Cat. Quit playing with her; this is serious business! Now, next, we have a quick little video of this new weapon in action, but before that, a quick word from our sponsor-“

Yeah, no, fuck that. Aaron skips again to where the video starts, and his leg bounces. There’s no way, there’s no fucking way, right? Right?

The video in the thread plays, and it shows Black Cat using the claws to climb up a brick wall, leaving significant scratch marks and puncture holes etched into the concrete. Then, once on top of the roof, she raises her hand and flexes it, which seems to trigger some mechanism as the claw part of the gauntlet shoots out and attaches itself to the edge of another roof two buildings across. Black Cat then runs and jumps off the roof she was currently on and uses the rope-like connection lodged between the claw part and the rest of the gauntlet. She swings towards the building, and on the video, the connection shortens, creating a grappling hook. The video shows her safely landing and repeating the action for another building before it ends.

The video cuts back to the influencer as she comments, “So, as we can see, it’s like a grappling hook, kind of? That’s cool; I wish I had a grappling hook. Then I could properly get to work on time when there’s traffic-“

Aaron exits the video before finding the Twitter thread and checking the comments. There are screenshots of the gauntlet from different angles and a few claims that it had sometimes glowed purple. After reading more and more comments about the description of the gauntlet, Aaron leans back in his chair and blinks.

That’s my gauntlet, he thinks; that’s my prototype.

Immediately, he calls Fisk - the one person Aaron trusted enough to leave the prototype with due to his high-security level warehouses and marked a sign of mutual trust between the two business partners. After quickly catching Fisk up to date, Fisk left to check the warehouse himself before confirming that the prototype was indeed missing - stating that they had numerous techs slowly disappear since the end of the previous year but couldn’t pin who it was or how they broke in.

The whole reason he wanted Alexander dead was because he was the only other person who knew where Fisk’s warehouses were, so the Kingpin thought he was the one who did it. Regardless, Fisk seemed intrigued that Aaron had made the connection to Black Cat, but Aaron was too busy breathing fire to even tune in on what the Kingpin was saying, causing him to drop the line altogether.

Aaron could feel the uncomfortable heat of anger creeping up his spine and seeping into his brain, as he returned to the thread and checked the new comments.

It didn't take long before the public started to bring up the Prowler’s weapon and their similarities. After rewatching the video five more times, Aaron noticed the prototype was tampered with. Every major flaw Aaron had trouble with had been fixed to a degree. Aaron closed his eyes and leaned back, his leg bouncing rapidly before suddenly stopping.

“It’s my prototype, he mumbles, “And she fixed it. She took my shit and made it better.” He slowly opens his eyes; green envy returns to his dark brown eyes. “First, she steals my kills, and now she steals my tech,” he chuckles before laughing and slamming his palm down onto his desk. “I am,” he laughs, “I am going to fucking end this bitch.”

Tag list: @mordeiswrld @arielpanda1 @young-dc @fossilizedbeetle @super-nova-2006 @chelsea-xxx2003 @fandom-multiamory @leahnicole1219

#black tumblr #x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales #x female reader #aaron davis #aaron davis x reader #the prowler x black cat #the prowler x reader #the prowler #black cat #x black reader #x black oc #into the spider verse #spiderverse x reader #madiwrites

[shinyfire-0]

In chapter 5 of The Phantom of the Opera - The Enchanted Violin - Raoul and Christine meet at Perros and spend some time together talking in the moonlight on the heath overlooking the sea. The text is from the de Mattos translation, available online.

‘Raoul walked away, dejectedly, to the graveyard in which the church stood and was indeed alone among the tombs, reading the inscriptions; but, when he turned behind the apse, he was suddenly struck by the dazzling note of the flowers that straggled over the white ground. They were marvelous red roses that had blossomed in the morning, in the snow, giving a glimpse of life among the dead, for death was all around him. It also, like the flowers, issued from the ground, which had flung back a number of its corpses. Skeletons and skulls by the hundred were heaped against the wall of the church, held in position by a wire that left the whole gruesome stack visible. Dead men's bones, arranged in rows, like bricks, to form the first course upon which the walls of the sacristy had been built. The door of the sacristy opened in the middle of that bony structure, as is often seen in old Breton churches.

Raoul said a prayer for Daae and then, painfully impressed by all those eternal smiles on the mouths of skulls, he climbed the slope and sat down on the edge of the heath overlooking the sea. The wind fell with the evening. Raoul was surrounded by icy darkness, but he did not feel the cold. It was here, he remembered, that he used to come with little Christine to see the Korrigans dance at the rising of the moon. He had never seen any, though his eyes were good, whereas Christine, who was a little shortsighted, pretended that she had seen many. He smiled at the thought and then suddenly gave a start. A voice behind him said:

"Do you think the Korrigans will come this evening?"

It was Christine. He tried to speak. She put her gloved hand on his mouth.

"Listen, Raoul. I have decided to tell you something serious, very serious ... Do you remember the legend of the Angel of Music?"’

(the photo shows heath and the pink granite rocks looking down to the sea at Perros-Guirec. But it was taken on a bright sunny day, not a moonlit night in winter)

Christine then tells Raoul all about the Angel of Music who visits her in her room, and who has been sent by her father. When Raoul is sceptical about this, Christine runs away into the night. Raoul follows her but instead of going back to her room at the Inn she goes to the church where, as Raoul tells M Milfroid, the commissary of police, a few weeks later:

‘“She knelt down by her father's grave, made the sign of the cross and began to pray. At that moment, it struck midnight. At the last stroke, I saw Mlle. Daae life{sic} her eyes to the sky and stretch out her arms as though in ecstasy. I was wondering what the reason could be, when I myself raised my head and everything within me seemed drawn toward the invisible, WHICH WAS PLAYING THE MOST PERFECT MUSIC! Christine and I knew that music; we had heard it as children. But it had never been executed with such divine art, even by M. Daae. I remembered all that Christine had told me of the Angel of Music. The air was The Resurrection of Lazarus, which old M. Daae used to play to us in his hours of melancholy and of faith. If Christine's Angel had existed, he could not have played better, that night, on the late musician's violin. When the music stopped, I seemed to hear a noise from the skulls in the heap of bones; it was as though they were chuckling and I could not help shuddering."’

I took these photos of the church at Perros-Guirec (Église Saint-Jacques) in a hurry. I was with some people who kept getting in the way! and I was trying to look calm and collected while I took in the atmosphere of the place. I think all the graves in the graveyard were removed many years ago.

Finally, did Leroux take inspiration from the noseless Saint Guirec, whose shrine can be found just around the headland?

(from Wikipedia!) 'L'Oratoire de Saint-Guirec stands in the bay at Ploumanac'h with a chapel on the facing beach. Female pilgrims have come for centuries to call upon the prayerful intercession of the monk saint for their seafaring husbands' safety. Young women also come to ask Guirec's prayers that they would soon find a husband. The tradition of putting a pin in the nose of the saint's statue is said to encourage Guirec to acquire the blessing of a marriage within one year for the young pilgrim.'

(thank you to @paperandsong who made me go and find him!)

There is a beautiful beach at St Guirec's shrine and I imagined Christine having a little swim there.

Here is a map to show you where all these places are in relation to each other

#phantom of the opera #poto #erik x christine #gaston leroux #le fantôme de l'opéra #scenes from poto #perros-guirec #the enchanted violin #perros

[bmtillerbabe]

A Beneficial Arrangement

inspired by BG3, and my crazy love for the fanged vampire spawn - I wrote original fanfic content (smut and sex galore)

I posted the full story on AO3, but here is the first chapter :)

Enjoy!

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The campfire crackled and popped in the night air as a charred log shifted within the ashes, sending sparks dancing up away into the night sky.

  Your camp was quiet. Calm. And for the first time in a while – peaceful.

  The road you had traversed in the last few weeks had more than taken its toll on you and your party members, and you could not only feel the physical exhaustion throughout your soul, but your mind and heart as well. Alone with your thoughts was a dangerous thing…. Albeit a good one.

  Your eyes shimmered, reflecting the warm, golden glow of the flames. You watched in admiration as the tender trills of fire danced and swayed, bending in the slightest breeze before righting itself once more. You adjusted your legs and shifted your weight to avoid any pins and needles forming, wrapping your arms around your knees as you pulled them up to your chest.

  This was nice.

  Gentle snoring and glowing coming from Karlach’s tent. Scratch breathing softly, pattering his legs every now and again. Halsin off in some corner, meditating to the moon.

  And then, a pale, moonlit figure making its way towards where you now sat, approaching from the underbrush nearby.

  Astarion.

  Your head turned to meet his blood-red eyes, the soft tendrils of silver hair that curled around his face, and the tiny trail of blood that dripped from the corner of his mouth when he grinned. His gaze met yours as he reached up to wipe his mouth clean, licking the side of his hand so as not to let anything go to waste.

  You found yourself ashamed to admit that you had watched his actions much more intently than you should.

  “Well,” he drawled, “someone’s up late.” Sauntering over, he plopped himself down on the ground next to you. “Can’t sleep?”

  You smirked. “I could say the same thing to you.”

  “Ah, but my dear, I am a vampire, after all. I have a reason to be out at this hour.” He rested his forearm on his own knee, eyeing his fingers again for any trace of leftover blood. You took this moment to let your eyes trail down his figure. His shining white hair, his sharp jawline, pointed ears….  Gods, he looked perfect. Looked delicious.

  You couldn’t deny that over the last several weeks, as well as fighting your way through numerous battles, there was a battle going on within your mind every day that you couldn’t seem to win. Astarion was a beautiful, beautiful being, and every day you spent with him, you felt yourself slipping away more and more; your heart aching to be near him, to touch him, to feel him….

  You shook your head to yourself, trying to shy away from the thoughts that threatened to consume you. Astarion was a person. A party member. A friend.

  Yes. A friend.

  And you’re not supposed to think about friends that way.

  But gods. When he sat like this, literally glowing in the moonlight, eyes shining like liquid rubies under thick, dark lashes…. 

  “I’m just trying to relax some before tomorrow comes along,” You half-answered his question of why you were awake so late at night. You sighed, painfully tearing your eyes away from him and back to the fire. “It’s been a long week, and we have an even longer one ahead of us. Not only do we have to make our way to Moonrise, but we also must find a way to accrue some gold along the way. We need a way to stay alive without draining our only cleric.” You attempted a laugh.

  Your heart skipped a beat at the chuckle that rumbled from the back of the pale elf’s throat. “That might not be such a terrible idea.” He agreed.

   Apparently finding a small speck of blood, Astarion lifted his finger to his mouth to further clean himself off.

  Your stomach did a little flip at the sound of his gentle suckle, and your mouth watered. You swallowed involuntarily.

  To distract yourself again, you let your mind wander to another topic.

  Why he still chose to go out hunting late at night. Although you appreciated the fact that he seemed to care enough about the party’s outlook on his vampirism, it never seemed to bother you that much. Even when you had found him standing over you, fangs bared, those nights ago. Not only was there some kind of morbid curiosity about the whole thing…. You couldn’t deny the fact that somehow, inexplicably, it turned you on.

  Drinking blood had never been something you actively had sought out before, but ever since this beautiful creature had come into your life, you had to admit – it was on your mind so much more now. There was just something so…. Intimate about it. Having to give oneself over so fully, so entirely, trusting the other person so much as to play with your life. It was thrilling.

  And sexy.

  Not to mention, the feeling you had gotten when his cool, firm lips planted on your neck, his sharp fangs grazing your pulse before sinking in with a soft pop, and feeling him drink from you and your life’s force that first time….

  Maybe it was the night air, maybe it was your own thoughts, but you shivered.

  Astarion was suddenly concerned, and a part of you mentally berated yourself for drawing more attention towards yourself. That was the exact opposite of what you wanted.

  He cocked his head to the side and eyed you. “Oh. I do seem to forget how easily you humans tend to react to the weather.” He chuckled, a pure, angelic sound to your ears, “I can’t even remember the last time I was cold.”

  You were thankful that he hadn’t probed further into your mind via tadpole to reveal the true nature of your gooseflesh. Or how his gaze alone seemed to ignite a new fire deep within you, warming you from the inside out.

  And before you had a chance to think better of it, the question blurted out.

  “Why do you still go hunting?”

  Astarion’s laugh was the audible version of a glistering gemstone. Your eyes caught his fangs. “Well, in case you haven’t noticed my dear, there’s hardly any real food for me around here. Lest I remind you that I can’t survive alone on whatever vegetables and wines we find.”

  But you were shaking your head before he finished, raising a hand. “No, no, no. That’s not what I meant. I mean….” You gulped, almost unable to speak directly to him.

  Gods, could you smell him?

  “I mean…” Your breath quickened as the question you had wanted so desperately to ask him for many, many nights now bubbled up in your throat. Perhaps you had drank too much wine this night, perhaps your inhibitions had gotten the better of you. Or perhaps, you just wanted to see what would happen. Either way, before you could talk yourself out of it, you heard your own voice before it had even registered that you had begun to talk again,

  “I mean, why waste so much energy and time when all of us need you at your peak during the day… You’re a very important member of our party… and it just makes more sense, and… I want to help everyone in any way I can…” You seemed to be talking to yourself now, more than to him, trailing off every few words and stumbling over yourself in an endless barrage of words.... 

  Nevertheless, his eyes were locked onto yours. You tried to get a reading from him in any way you could but found your insight lacking. He could be thinking of the temple of Shar for all you knew, and you’d never know any better.

  He waited for you to finish, eyeing you curiously.

  As pathetic an excuse as it may sound, you couldn’t help yourself. You just had to say it.

  “You.... can feed on me, instead." Hearing it sounded worse than thinking it, so you quickly added, "If you like.”

  Astarion seemed genuinely surprised at your words. His eyes widened, but he otherwise made no move.

 Shit, You thought to yourself. Shit, shit, shit, way to go Tav, now you've done it... 

  Stomach in knots when he didn’t say anything, you quickly began to back up, trying to fix what you just said, the longer it had time to sink in.

  “Well, it just…  I mean…  You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just figured that it would be so much easier than to try and hunt, and maybe find something to eat, maybe not. It would just be easier to…. Y’know….” You shrugged, cheeks flushing ever so slightly and a shiver threatening to break across your skin again, for a completely different reason this time, “I can help.”

  Yes, that was why you said it. Definitely. You just wanted to help. After all, he was a fellow party member, and you would hate for any of your party to feel alienated or alone, or punished for something that really wasn’t their choice to begin with.

  Yep. That’s exactly what it was.

  Astarion was quiet for a moment, contemplating. His crimson eyes danced between the fire and you before finally resting on your face. You found his expression still as unreadable as before, but…. You thought that maybe, just maybe, you could detect a hint of… warmth?

  “You…. you would do that?” His voice betrayed him for just a mere moment before it was concealed under his mask again. It was a sincere question, and he sounded…. Eager, almost. Perhaps you had been right. “Even after I almost…” He grimaced at the memory of the first time you had allowed him to drink from you, when he had nearly killed you caught in the bloodlust.

  You gulped, realizing the implications your words meant. But with the fire in your belly roaring into a flame, you nodded, pushing any fear to the back of your mind to sit behind the desire that was ever growing.

  “Of course.” You offered, resisiting the urge to reach out and touch his hand. “It just makes sense. Besides, think of all the energy you’ll save this way. You’ll have more time to rest, less exertion. Not to mention, I – we,” you quickly corrected yourself, “– don’t have to worry about a stray thief or wild animal catching you off guard. It’s the smart thing to do.” You concluded with a grimace, realizing it had gone from something kind to something akin to a sales pitch at the nearest Blacksmith’s Shop.

  He seemed to ponder this, almost as if in disbelief. This was definitely not the conversation he expected to have with you this night and you could tell.

  You awaited his answer, both eager for him to say both yes and no equally.

  Astarion looked back into the campfire again. It was quiet again between you once more – the nightsounds of the world seeming to be on full blast in the background. But slowly, he began to nod.

  “I think that would be a beneficial arrangement,” he concurred. “This.... This is not something to take lightly, you know. Offering blood is... well, not for just anyone. And I would hate for our friendship to come to an end simply because of a misunderstanding. So, I propose a counter-offer." He shifted his legs towards you - your stomach dropping - and looked directly into your eyes. 

  That damn shiver....

  "Alright. I will agree to allow you to share your blood with me, on one condition. We try it for two weeks, and revisit the notion to see how you're faring afterward. I won't need to feed from you every night, mind you, but..." His eyes squinted, and he... smirked?  "You may find the side effects to be more than you bargained for." He paused, looking you over, and the silence between you felt an eternity. 

  "Do we have a deal?" 

  Almost lost in his unrelenting gaze, you chided yourself mentally with a nod, releasing the breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. 

  "Yes," You cleared your throat, realizing that you had not only stopped breathing, but stopped swallowing as well, and your throat was now scratchy. You tried again, "Yes. Deal." 

  "Excellent." Astarion's eyes shone with something akin to malice, but it was quickly hidden behind his mask once again. With a much warmer smile, he thrust his hand out towards you, and you shook on it, sealing the deal. 

  You gasped softly when he yanked your grip to bring your face closer to his, and whispered - "This is a gift, you know. Thank you. I will not forget it.”

  You spent the next few minutes talking over the details and times of day when he could feed on you, coming to the agreement that he would only feed on you at night, whilst everyone else was asleep; they were to tell no one else of the arrangement; and it was to be done in your tent, while you were awake, on the off chance he would accidentally drank too much again, and you would be able to push him off. Or, at the very least, call for help.

  The finer details could be worked out along the way.

  Astarion grinned at her as the conversation came to a close. “Well, darling, this has been a surprisingly delightful conversation. As I am unfortunately sated at this moment, do expect me tomorrow night,” He paused and tilted his head. It made your stomach swoon. It was the eyes. It had to be the eyes.... 

  “And keep in mind, darling; I shall be quite hungry.”

  You managed to keep yourself from shivering this time.

  The two of you sat next to the fire in comfortable silence for a time after that, watching the fire slowly burn itself out.

  And maybe you had fallen asleep. Maybe the warmth of the fire had finally gotten to you, or maybe you just felt …. Safe. Maybe one of the goblins had hit you just a little too hard in the head with their clubs, and knocked a few braincells loose. 

  Either way, you stirred on the cool ground, only to wake and find your head resting on your bedroll and a blanket wrapped around your slender frame.

  Blinking away the sleep that threatened to pull you back under its dark tendrils, you slowly rose until you were laying on your elbows and lazily adjusted your vision to your new surroundings.

  You were in your tent.

  How…?

  The candle next to your roll flickered, casting little monsters in their shadows, and you yawned. Try as you may, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling sweetly to yourself, closing your eyes against the butterflies in your stomach.

  Perhaps you weren’t so crazy after all for offering yourself to him. Perhaps this would indeed help everyone in the party after all…. Perhaps this would help you not be so crazily obsessed with those crimson eyes, and those sharp fangs, or the way he smiled when he thought no one could see…

  Perhaps….

 You dozed back off before you could fully finish your thought.

Read the rest on AO3 now! 🥰

#astarion smut #Astarion #Fluff #Smut #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #Astarion sex #Fanfic #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #fic

[nevernonline]

✽ maybe this means something? ✽ | csc.

CHAPTER 00 - Introduction.

Choi Seungcheol used to be the bane of your existence, but through a year of seasonal rotations, something felt different. It has to be overwhelming realizing you could fall for the person you always thought you hated.

𐦍 paring: seungcheol x reader. (svt members mentioned)

𐦍 genre: frenemies (sort of), romance, a little angst, fluff.

𐦍 content: non-idol characters, food/drink, cursing, slightly- suggestive, pet names, fem! reader. bff! hao.

𐦍 word count: 1.4k

♥ notes: every time I listen to Means something by Lizzy McAlpine it makes me think of cheol so I wanted to write a little something with it as inspo, but pls ignore any typos or weird phrasing I'm super rusty when it comes to writing long fics. pls enjoy and give feedback. xo.

Intro - Fall - Winter - Spring - Summer

Intro:

Walking down a narrow alleyway trying to find the brown arched doorway in the photo from your friend's text, you suddenly felt a chill running up and down your back, was someone following behind you? If they were, was it smart for you to turn around and look or keep your head held high and continue to your front? 

Against your better judgment you continued down the moonlit coated pathway. Suddenly a firm grasp came up to your shoulder as you screamed only to be met with the smirking face and raven colored hair of your worst nightmare, no, not a murderer but worse, Choi Seungcheol. 

For all you made out of his features in the small amount of light you did have, that smirk plastered on his face could only be changed by your hand coming in contact harshly with his cheek. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” you spat in his direction, his hand still resting on the jacket that covered your bare shoulders underneath.  

Seungcheol, now stone cold as you’ve known him to be,, just shook his head and removed his hand only now to be pointing two doors down from where you had walked. “You missed the entrance.” 

You just squinted back in his direction and without a word pushed passed his broad shoulders to the door you had missed. When you finally reached the warmth of bodies grazing passed you in both directions the sound of the music made the fast paced beating of your chest seem calm. 

“Minghao!” you yelled finally spotting the reason you’re not in bed  watching your favorite movie. 

“I didn’t think you’d make it!” he smiled hugging you so tight your ribs felt like they could crack. 

It was a celebration for him after all, you’ve known him forever so you could miss a big moment like this. He was throwing a party for all of his closest friends to cheer the opening of his art gallery, most of them being featured artists he discovered somewhat like what you thought you’d be doing, but maybe in another life. 

Your right arm still draped around his waist as your left outstretched to him grabbing the one thing you really needed, alcohol. Taking a sip and letting it run down the back of your throat felt like a reward. 

“You know I could never turn down a chance to celebrate you, this is really amazing, Hao. I can –” a familiar voice interrupted yours offering another congrats to the friend on your side, of course it was his. 

Seungcheol looked at the closeness of you and Minghao and felt a rush to his cheeks, “Hi, sorry to interrupt you both, but I figured if I didn’t stop her now I could never get a word in.” 

Your mutual friend just laughed at the two of you. He's always been in the middle of the bubbling tension, “Cheol, thank you. Really you’re like 75% of this. You designed the entire layout; it wouldn't have been the same without you.” 

Hao’s hand left its comfortable position around you to now be wrapped around the shoulders you rudely brushed passed earlier. 

“Wait, you designed this?” your now hands gesturing to the architecture of Minghao’s gallery interior. 

Seungcheol looked confused as to why you were even entertaining a conversation between the two of you. He chose to let it go due to the night being special,, “Uhm, yep. I took over for my dad, he owns a lot of the historic buildings in this neighborhood so whoever owns the retail space has to come through our architecture firm for consultation.” 

Your eyes opened wide, almost not believing the words coming out of his mouth, pure shock was really all you had in you. “Oh, cool.” Was that all you could say? Cool? 

“I guess, it’s not really what I wanted to do forever, but designing for Hao was something I couldn’t say no to and my dad never would’ve let me if I didn’t stay to take over for him, but yeah it's cool.” His smile seemed forced now and for some reason you felt the need to get to the bottom of that. 

Something about him changed from the time you saw him teasing you outside, something like the air during this season. On the outside it was cold, but the inside was warm and comfortable. You’d have to find shelter first to find the beauty of the outside.

A groan from Hao took your now staring eyes off of the cherry lipped boy to focus back onto him. “I’m sorry I have to go say hello to some people, but if you guys want to sit and wait for me I’ll be back in like ten minutes tops, grab a drink and go into the lounge.” His eyes never left yours searching for the fear of being alone with someone you loathed, but he couldn’t find it so he felt safe to leave you. 

As you waited with him in line you pretended to look around the room more, but really you just wanted to size him up. He had an outfit on that brought out his now masculine shape, which as a departure from the slim boy you met years before. His eyes seemed softer, like he had calmed down from the teasing and prodding. You couldn't put your finger on it, but maybe he was always this beautiful but you were too blinded by the rage inside your gut to notice.

“Hi guys, what can I get for you?” The overly perky bartender spoke loudly knocking you out of your trance.

“Tequila Soda.” Seungcheol and you spoke in unison. 

A small smile curved onto your normally downturned mouth, “Good choice.” 

“Mmm, you too, thought you had no taste?” He teased and grabbed the two drinks gesturing over to the sherpa lined loveseat near the fireplace. 

“I’m surprised you ever thought anything about me other than I was a bitch.” You scoffed now placing your jacket over your stocking covered legs. 

He just laughed and placed the two drinks down in front of him, “Well, to be honest I think this is the most I’ve ever spoken to you without one of us getting upset.” 

“Yeah, I would say sorry for that, but I’m too sober to have that conversation with you.” You lifted the rim of your glass to your lips taking a sip. “Can I ask you something actually?” 

Seungcheol just nodded in your direction while adjusting his frame towards you further, “Sure, go ahead.” 

“Did it at least hurt when I slapped you earlier? Cause if it didn’t I caused my hand pain for no reason.” 

“Yeah, it really did.” He just smiled. 

┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄┄┄ ︰ ┄୨୧┄ ︰ ┄┄

Leaving the party after your first civil conversation with the same guy you hated since you met him five years ago had you on a weird high, but it was probably just the tequila right? 

You would have never imagined from that first day in college when Minghao introduced you to a friend of his that you’d ever get along with him. You always just viewed him as Choi Seungcheol, enemy number one. A womanizer, a rich brat who got everything in his life handed to him, someone that you’d never get along with and not because you didn’t try. 

Seungcheol teased you, he made you feel small. Told you basically for years that Minghao only had been keeping you around because you were his charity case, but not in so many words.

You had felt a deep loathing for him forever, so why is it changing? 

Passing down as leaves  crunched beneath your feet you notice something, a street sign, a mundane object that’s never stuck out to you before it read ‘Coups Avenue.’ 

His nickname was on a sign just a few blocks down from your apartment, a street you’ve probably seen many times and never paid any attention to, so why was it special now? 

Your pace picked up as the wind blew colder, you had to get to the bottom of it.

Finally reaching the end of your elevator ride into your apartment, your laptop was out before you could even change out of your clothes or wash off your makeup you started researching the small hub that was your neighborhood. 

“Coups Avenue, what could that even mean?” your head couldn’t wrap around the fact it was the first time you noticed it. 

“ Coups Avenue is a small lux dead end street, featuring boutique liquor stores, luxury apartment complexes, and coveted neighborhood restaurants, most famously Choi Bistro founded in 1995 after the birth of the Choi family's son.” You read aloud to your dog as she's cuddled to your side on the couch. 

“So… I saw his name on a street sign, literally named for him after he was born.” You rolled your eyes and laid your head back to stare at the ceiling. "

It had to mean something, right?

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