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admirxation · 3 days

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Delusional - Leon Kennedy

yandere!Leon Kennedy x afab!reader | 18+ mdni | oneshot

summary: the chief felt sympathy for you and let you have a job as a coffee girl, but along the way you start to do favours for your favourites in the department, only the label of the favourite brings unwanted attention from the new rookie.

warnings: DARK CONTENT, heavy smut 18+ mdni, dead dove do not eat, yandere, obsession, heavy smut fantasies, masturbation, stalking, watching porn, moments of misogynistic language, voyeurism (peeping tom), non-consensual picture taking, breaking in, thoughts of kidnapping, putting someone to sleep with chloroform, tit play, grinding, unprotected sex (p in v), non-con, and somno // please read the warnings carefully, and understand this fiction is made for 18+ only and if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable this fic is not for you; please remember this is just fiction where real people cannot get hurt, and no actions in this fic are condoned.

Stage one: noticing

Navigating the labyrinthine corridors of the job market proved to be an unexpected odyssey, a reality starkly different from the rose-tinted visions of post-college life. You harboured the naive notion that securing employment would be a mere formality, a recipe of time, persistence, and nothing more. However, the harsh truth unfolded before you, revealing a landscape that was desolate and unforgiving, where the promises within the market of ‘urgently hiring’ were nothing more than a lie that echoed hollowly against the deafening silence of unreturned emails and failed interviews where people couldn’t even be bothered to follow-up, just letting you wonder about your failure into obtaining your first real job.

In your frustration, you confided in your father, lamenting the arduousness of the job hunt, how this pursuit was draining you and how unfair it was. You told him it wasn’t what it was like when he first entered it, how he was given the chance to climb the ladder, and you weren’t even given the sight of it—it was just starting to feel tedious.

His empathy was palpable as he sought avenues to alleviate your plight. Despite his respectable standing within the professional sphere, his efforts to secure a foothold in your proved futile search were met with the obstinate resistance of corporate bureaucracy and entrenched biases; when he asked his boss for a simple job, perhaps in the mail room, he was only met with: “If I allow your daughter, I’ll have a whole mailroom of incompetent daughters.” This was met with your father feeling disheartened, unable to fabricate a response, and not wanting to go against his boss’ boundaries.

Yet, amidst the encroaching despair, a glimmer of hope emerged from connections through the benevolence of an old friend, the chief of the Raccoon City Police Department. Your father had met him back in high school, and despite the distance over the years, there was an inextricable bond where favours were allowed to continue being asked. A lifeline materialised in the form of a humble role at the department, as you were designated as a simple ‘coffee girl’ to make the coffee runs for his workers and help clean up the area; it all worked in the chief’s favour anyway, with him needed workers to stop being distracted and continue with their designated cases.

At first—when you started—everyone was curious as to who you were, wondering why the chief allowed a coffee girl when the department never had one; no one could think of any other department that allowed this; this practice was out of the ordinary as the usual practice was having someone nominated to take their turn and collect everyone’s order, but hey, they weren’t going to complain about having someone take care of them, people who were constantly nominated were even more thrilled about you working here.

Before starting, you had some thoughts before going to bed that maybe no one would be friendly or accepting of you, but this was all proven wrong; as the months continued, you were welcomed, becoming a favourite with how you remembered everyone’s usual order, but you also had your favourites. Everyone was kind to you, but you still had your favourites; being your favourite meant you would always sneak an extra sweet treat for them; the way someone knew to expect being a favourite was if you asked them what their favourite treat was. This started with Jill Valentine, then rippled to a man called Chris Redfield; some people even went out of their way to be marked as your favourite, but for a good while, it was only to them two until after a month or so, you found another to be labelled as your favourite; the newest recruit in the department who was the newest target to be picked on, the ‘rookie’ everyone liked to make jokes about, Leon S. Kennedy.

When you first met him, you noticed how reserved he was, how he stuttered in his speech and how shy his demeanour was; when he had a seat allocated for him, you wanted to be the first friendly face after a long time of being subjected to what the guys liked to call ‘harmless bullying’ a term they used to describe it as a state of teasing that ‘built character’, but all you could see was a group of guys that never grew up and stayed in the state that piqued in high school—you had encountered that all your life, and many others. You remembered tapping him on the shoulder and introducing yourself, waiting for him to fabricate his words to introduce himself to you; you told him you were the coffee girl around the department and gave him the times you would go out and get everyone what they wanted, giving him a piece of paper to put his order down. You remembered that shy, small smile as he wrote it down, thanking you for spending time with him.

That was the first stage of him noticing you.

Inescapably, he found himself ensnared by the genial ambience you provided, discerning the elegance of your smile and the picturesque framing of your countenance by your styled locks, reminiscent of an ethereal masterpiece. Yet, he refrained from delving deeper into such impressions, recognising that your amiable demeanour was intrinsic to your professional role. These cogitations united into a resolute acceptance as he seamlessly integrated himself into discussions concerning you, recognising such interactions he noticed were just the result of friendliness being a part of your job. With a nonchalant attitude of seeing the truth, he dimmed any personal inclinations, instead redirecting his focus to his duty as a law enforcement officer, immersing himself into the very reasons he chose this line of work when going through the academy.

As the weeks drew on, your reasonings of favouring started to manifest; the reasons resulted in a mix of his manners and sympathy for Leon. You heard how people talked about him in the breakroom or the reactions to being partnered with him. The titling of ‘rookie’ always left a bad taste in your mouth when you were watching full-grown men bullying him like they were back in the walls of the school—how pathetic it was, you thought to yourself, but you could tell it was doing a number on Leon’s mentality. You were never given slack for being new; at the very most, some people called you ‘cute’ but not in a complimentary way, more to describe your lack of experience within the chief’s sympathy towards you. Still, you were never subjected to what Leon was to. You decided to do something small, to make him feel better, asking him the next time you gave him his usual what his favourite treat was—you were aware how odd this was to him, you could tell with his facial expression, but you knew it would make sense the next day. You could tell the others knew what was happening when you noticed people waiting for that question, just looking at Leon and wondering why him. He quickly answered that he was simple and loved raspberry and white chocolate muffins; you greeted his answer with a quick nod and scurried away to put it in your notebook, ready to give it to him the next day.

When that day rolled along, you managed to collect everyone’s order and pick up the treats for Chris and Jill, later remembering the order you wanted to make for Leon; you looked at the glass dome surrounding the cakes and pointed to the one that you thought was perfect, hoping it would pick up his spirits, even if it were just a little bit. When it came to you walking back to the building and giving out everyone’s orders, you made sure Leon was left til last; you saw him look over to you with a tinge of sadness, perhaps thinking that he was forgotten, but after your little conversations with Chris and Jill you made your way over to Leon, being greeted with that shy smile that you couldn’t help but describe as cute.

“Hey, I’m sorry I took a while to get to you; please don’t think I was ignoring you,” you reassured him as you placed the coffee in front of him.

“It’s o-okay. I know you have loads of people to get to,” he wrapped his fingers around the warm cup, curiously watching as you remained a few moments longer around his desk and reached in your bag for something.

“Oh, don’t be silly, I couldn’t forget you.”

Couldn't forget me? Leon thought.

“Remember that question I asked you yesterday… Well, I hope this answers why I asked it,” you handed over his favourite treat, watching as his eyes widened with happiness, and a dust of blush appeared on his cheeks.

“T-Thank you so much… You didn’t have to go out of your way-”

“It’s my treat,” you said, grazing your hand on his, “Consider it a thank you for being so kind to me.”

He watched your lips curl and stretch into a warm and inviting smile—he couldn’t help but feel a connection from that smile.

That was when it all changed.

That was the day Leon felt connected to you, feeling a need to cling to the idea of you, thinking the more he clung to it, the more the fixation of connection would manifest into a physical connection, much more than just a graze on the hand, but physical intimacy—something he craved, and now only craved with you from now on. When you walked off, you didn’t notice how the blush intensified as he grazed his finger along the paper casing of the muffin you gave to him; one of the corners of Leon’s mouth turned up, his hand smoothed over the warm drink before lifting it to his lips, letting it glide down his throat, before clenching his jaw as he thought and looked to you across the room.

Your name would be on his mind for a long time now.

As he continued to watch you before going into the chief’s office, he made his way into the breakroom, ready to dispose of the paper casing surrounding your provided present; before putting it in the bin, he caught Chris' attention.

“Oh, I see someone else has joined the club,” he laughed lightly, adding to Leon's confusion.

“Club? I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know the coffee girl, yes?” Leon nodded, "She has her favourites, and you know you’re a favourite if she asks you what your favourite snack is and gives it to you; so far, you're the third person; you must have been very kind to her.”

Favourite. I am her favourite. He continued to think about being a favourite, a tinge of jealousy within his mind as he thought about being the ‘third’ favourite, but he was a favourite non the less, steps ahead of many of the guys in the department—and he loved that he was on your radar.

Stage two: obsession.

Leon always thought you looked pretty; he thought it was an objective fact that you were the most attractive girl in the precinct, but he never formed any true feelings about that. However, since that day, his behaviour and feelings towards you started to change; he couldn’t get the word 'favourite’ and the notion that he was your favourite out of his mind. He often thought that he wasn’t the only favourite, but he didn’t need to think of them; they weren’t a competition—the way Chris said it, it had a casual tone, not one of endearing description, granted whenever he heard you in the breakroom laughing with Chris, jealousy was often felt. However, he knew if Chris wanted you, he would have made a move already—but he was still one to watch. As more time drew, he constantly thought of you; no matter the time of day, you were fixed in his mind, a constant that would not change.

As the weeks drew on, he started to notice you more, noticing everything about you with just the simple act of watching; it wasn’t hard to collect this information, especially with how you were a creature of habit, a person who worked with continuous routine—a huge mistake from you. He knew the times you would go off for your coffee runs from the paper you gave him; he knew the order you would go around the room and how you left Leon for last and always had a longer conversation with him. He also noted when you would have your breaks and how long you would talk to Jill and Chris; he made sure to listen in to ensure Chris was never overstepping the boundary he placed ever since his obsession was created. He always felt a burning within his chest, a heavyweight hanging on his heart every time he heard you laugh from one of Chris’ jokes; he couldn’t help but curl his fists into a ball, feeling his head get warmer as the feeling of jealousy expanded further within him.

Calm down, Leon; he would have already asked her if he wanted her. He constantly told himself to calm down and stop thinking of how close you two were together, remembering that Jill was in the middle of you two. If he wanted to be closer, he would spend time with just you—that thought comforted him.

Your small conversations lasted a little longer when you gave him his coffee and muffin. It was Friday, and the easy conversation was on its way.

As you were about to turn around, you were greeted with an extended conversation with Leon, who asked, “Have you got anything plans for the weekend?” he fiddled with the paper casing as he tried to concentrate on the conversation you two were having.

You were taken aback at this imposed question, not shocked at the content, but curious about how he started to take interest: “Oh, nothing much; I’m thinking of just chilling at home and relaxing a bit; what about you?”

“Oh, I’m just working on some cases; see how much I can get done over the weekend.”

“Don’t overwork yourself; there’s a reason you have the time off.”

She cares about my well being, Leon thought, your kind nature only adding to his obsession growing.

“I’ll see you around; I need to do something for the chief,” you went off, leaving Leon in a pool of his thoughts that never stop being around you. You were kind to everyone, but it felt different to him; you cared for him more with how your words were strung together.

~~~~~

The weekend felt long; usually, Leon would enjoy the time off, using this time to be as lazy as possible and have a break from his other colleagues, but his weekends now consisted of longing and counting down the minutes until he went back to work until he could see you again and sneak a few minutes of conversation with you. He couldn’t help but think about what you were doing at your place; he wondered if you lived alone; he wished you lived alone as he fantasised about growing closer to you and spending time with you—if only he had the courage to initiate that.

Leon thought about where you lived; he knew it wouldn’t be too far from the police station, and he was even thinking of getting some information through a series of questions. But he could tell you were a smart girl and wouldn’t give that information out by mistake. You seemed overly cautious, but not too cautious, as you had a few mistakes let slip—like your continuous routine, which was easy to plan around.

But right now, all he could think was the idea of having you, not just in a romantic way where you could be his person for as long as he needed you, but thinking of an intimacy he so long desired.

He wasn’t exactly the rookie everyone described him as; he had a girlfriend before finishing the academy and joining the department. It wasn’t like he was oblivious to it all, but that ended a long time ago when the thought of her disappeared the moment she left his everyday life, and now you were the beautiful and endearing replacement that he couldn’t stop thinking about.

He was confined in the same four walls he had lived in for years. He felt the urge to pull his laptop and fix up a website everyone had at least wondered about, even if it was out of curiosity or plain desperation; he hadn’t touched this website in a while, but thinking about you wasn’t enough, his imagination needed stimulation, and watching porn was the only way he could settle that yearning that was bubbling inside of him for a long time now.

He slowly looked at the screen, looking at the most popular videos that were the most watched, but none of them was attracting him; he just wanted you, and everyone he looked at was just inferior to how he put the thought of you on a pedestal. So, he typed, looking through several pages, looking for girls that emulated your features, perhaps having similar hair colour or style, similar body type, and facial features; he kept scouring through the internet to find a video with someone that looked like you, of course, none of them even came close, leading him to have to settle. His mouse hovered over results that came close to what he needed before the window for settling decreased in chance with an overwhelming wave of uncontrollable desire wash over him, pressing against his pants as he continued to have you on his mind, the thought of you being the source of his mind and body running on adrenaline.

As soon as he watched, he jerked his hands away from the keyboard, pushing the laptop further down as he unbuttoned his trousers, palming the imprint of his clothed cock for a moment, watching as the girl in the video—an inferior doppelganger—undressed slowly for the camera, teasing her viewers with the perfect execution of timing and a smile that just enticed you further; of course, Leon wasn’t enticed by her, he was only watching for the similarity she had to you, but she was a good enough vessel for his imagination to run rampant.

He pulls out his cock, which is throbbing painfully, making him moan and whimper slightly as he wraps his calloused hand and lets it run along his prominent veins, smearing the dribbling of precum along his warm shaft, his cheeks flushing deep red as he continues to morph her face into the perfect imagination of you, imagining you opening your legs and biting your lip, running your fingers along your wet folds, imagining you begging and desperate eyes looking up to him to beg for his cock inside you—god he needed that more than ever right now. He was practically salivating, drooling as he watched the woman fit her fingers inside her wet cunt, continuously thinking about what you would look if he fit his cock inside your aching pussy; he just knew you would be a screamer. His cock continued to painfully throb as he pressed his fingers around his member, even harder with another squeeze, kicking his head back as he continued to think about how you would moan his name, thinking about what you would sound like; he imagined even further how much of a dirty girl you would be. She has an innocent facade, but I can bring it down, he continued to think as he was lost with an unbearable ache within his core, his heart racing as he leaned back and pumped his hand even harder, laying your name on his tongue.

His eyes closed, listening to the woman’s moans in placement for yours, fantasising about what you would look like naked, wet and squirming just for him and only him, his fantasies becoming vivid as he thought about watching your tits bounce with every thrust inside you wet core, pounding his hard cock inside you repeatedly, wanting to just fill you up to the brim with his cum.

That was it. That was the thought that sent him over the edge. The thought of making you his by pumping his hot seed inside you, fucking it further inside your cervix. His fingers were wrapped around his shaft tightly as he let out a whimper, a quiet ‘fuck’ with a release of your name like a blissful treat laced on his lips; his hips bucked as he refused to let that thought of you being his little cumslut be fixed in the lines of memories and fantasies—he needed to bridge the gap with you.

After reaching a sweet release, he looked at the woman in the video, hearing her talking and her high-pitched voice, looking at her with disgust. “Shut up… annoying bitch,” he hissed in a curse, closing down the tabs.

He couldn’t let this be in his imagination; Leon’s obsession would no longer live in his fantasies, and he needed to ask you out.

This was routine with Leon; he always found himself in the same pathways, no matter how much he denied that part of himself. He always noticed a girl, then went to know them a little more, continuously thinking and then… asking them out and letting everything he wanted manifest into a reality of physical connection. That’s all he needed to do. He planned the next time he would see you would be when he asked you on a date, perhaps dinner at his place. All he needed to do was wait for you to say yes and let it continue from there—you would be the most perfect, his favourite girl he laid his eyes on and continued the repetitive journey with, perhaps be the last one with him now finding perfection.

Stage three: rejection

In the dimly lit break room, Leon hesitated at the threshold, his heartbeat pounding against his ribs, his blood flow quickening through his veins with the tumult of his beating heart. Each breath felt laboured with anxiety, weighted with the burden of anticipation and trepidation. Adjusting his shirt—in a futile attempt to regain composure—Leon stepped himself for the task he provided himself the previous night: to summon the courage and ask you out, the enigmatic coffee girl he just couldn’t forget ever since he was exposed to your heart of gold.

As the door creaked open, Leon was exposed to you, immersed in preparing your coffee; you were in your world before you heard the click of the door close. Leon’s breath hitched in his throat, beads of sweat drawing along his brow as he tried to maintain calm and remain at the task at hand, subtly, well to what he thought was subtle, he rubbed his hands on his trousers from them heating up in fear, trying not to become distracted from what he had set out to do.

Summoning his courage, Leon cleared his throat, the sound echoing unnaturally in the space: “Morning… Hey… Um,” he paused for a moment, “The coffee girl making her coffee… heh,” he let out nervous laughter at a failed attempt at what he thought would come out as a joke… If you could call it that.

“Um, yeah… I get my breaks like you lot,” you let out a sympathetic, breathy laugh, but Leon could see through it, knowing it was a sympathy laugh. Nonetheless, he was still warm inside, knowing you were trying to make him comfortable; your smile continued to beacon a feeling of reassurance that made Leon’s heart flutter within its beats.

Embarking upon the precarious precipice of confession, Leon forged ahead, his words carefully fabricating into what he had rehearsed the night before: “So um, I’m glad to find you here… Alone… Since I- there’s something I want to ask you.. For a while now,” he rubbed the back of his neck as you raised an eyebrow out of interest.

“Oh, do you want to change your regular order? I’m happy to do that for you,” you naively reached for your notebook.

“No, no, that isn’t what I wanted to talk about,” he couldn’t help but find your naivety cute; how you were always ready to please was captivating to him; you continued to watch as he was trying to find the words. “So I’ve wanted to ask you this… For a while now…You’re a very kind and pretty girl, and I find… I find…I-I think about you often, wondering if you want to… Go out with me. You’re a really nice girl, and well, I’m a really nice guy; we already have that in common and, yeah, what do you think?”

A flicker of confusion danced along your features, your brow furrowing into gentle bewilderment as he kept blabbing on; you watched how he rubbed the back of his neck, how he couldn’t keep up eye contact longer than a few seconds, and how his foot kept grazing along the wooden floor as he kept gently kicking it back and forth. “Oh,” you said as you tried to figure out what to say, tapping the ceramic layer of your cup as you tried to piece it all together.

Oh… fucking oh, that’s all you got, Leon thought to himself.

“Look, I think you’re lovely, but I’m not ready to go on dates; it’s only nearly been a year after finishing college; I’m not ready to start dating again.”

Again? Who else has got their hands on her? Leon felt a sting of jealousy.

Rejection pierced Leon’s hopes, feeling like the jagged rocks of reality came crumbling down on him; with a nod of resignation, he acquiesced to the painful truth. “I-I understand,” his fists were bawling up and his teeth grinding, “I’m sorry I asked,” he walked off slowly, hoping that you would stop him and tell him you changed your mind.

But you didn’t.

You had a boyfriend in college. Nothing serious happened with him, but you were close to that man; you even thought you loved him at one point until he betrayed you with another woman. You weren’t ready to start going out on dates, especially in a new job where you barely knew anyone.

Just as you were planning to exit, your friends came through the door, noticing how shaken up you were.

“Are you okay? you look like you just saw a ghost,” Jill said with concern, coming over to you and placing her hand on your shoulder for reassurance.

“I-I had a weird encounter with… Leon.”

“The rookie? what’s the little weirdo up to now?” Chris asked while folding his arms, coming closer to you so you wouldn’t have to raise your voice.

“He… He asked me out.”

Both of them widened their eyes, looking at one another and gesturing you to sit down; while the topic of asking someone out was an innocent one, you looked shaken up by Leon’s advances.

“I was here making myself a coffee, and I think he was trying to make a joke. I don’t know; he wanted to ask me something. I thought maybe he wanted to change that coffee order because we all know it’s gross. Who orders that?” Chris cut you off your emerging tangent.

“Back to the topic, you said Leon asked you out?”

“He said he had been thinking about me for a while and was saying that we’re both nice. He asked, and I rejected him, but… I don’t know; I feel weird. Was I leading him on? What’s it that muffin I gave him? I didn’t want to give that idea.”

“Look, I’m not going to defend him, but-“

“Then don’t finish that sentence,” Jill cut Chris off, “Look… It was just a case of a man misreading friendless for attraction; it happens a lot; men are stupid,” Chris looked offended, “especially the one opposite me.”

You both laughed.

“I just… I just find that it’s delusional to start liking someone because they did their job. I gave him a muffin, nothing else,” you told them.

“Giving muffins isn’t in your job; you do that extra. I’m not blaming you, but he might not be that used to women, and before you come back talking, we’ve all thought it; look at the guy,” Both you and Jill agreed, “Also, I did tell him you give muffins to favourites, to people you find kind, he must have taken it as favourite equals attraction. You’ve turned him down anyway. Just forget it happened; I’m sure he’ll forget about it.”

But he didn’t.

He was nestled in the corner, a blind spot for people in the break room, and heard every word. The moment you uttered “delusional”, it pricked a spike right into his chest, feeling like you just couldn’t help yourself but injure him and twist the blade for a bit of enjoyment; he curled his lips into a line as he heard Chris insult him, wondering what it would be like to drive him away from you, to hurt him back like he verbally hurt him. A darkened fog casted over his mind of clarity, putting him back in that dark space he worked hard to get himself out of.

No, no, no, don’t think like that. You wouldn’t want to hurt Chris. You can’t be messy. It leaves tracks. Remember your ex… All you need to do is be persuasive. Leon’s internal monologue kept feeding his delusional nature.

~~~~~

The next day approached, and Leon patiently awaited your coffee run. He watched the reflection of the glass and continued to look at you, hobbling into the building with numerous coffee orders, all with post-it notes and that brown bag for your favourites. He waited patiently, keeping his back turned to not make him seem too desperate as he awaited.

Just as routine kept providing, you went around the room in exact order, starting from left to right, then sneaking a conversation with Chris and Jill, and then to him; Leon’s heart quickened in beat as he heard your deep breaths become clearer as you got closer to him, but to his surprise, all you did was plant his coffee and muffin in front of him—no greeting, no few sentenced conversation, not even the usual grace with care as you just basically threw his order in front of him like a waitress getting awful tips. There was a strange feeling within him, one of anger for ignoring him and one of sadness as you went straight to the chief’s office—you had never quickened your pace like that before.

Probably just in a rush, chief overworking you, he thought as he let the scalding hot coffee pass through his throat, not wincing or reacting to its temperature as he kept replaying your distance in his mind, over and over again. He looked at the muffin you gave him, which was still his favourite, and it looked to be the best quality from that coffee shop with its raised top and good ratio of white chocolate and raspberry. As he analysed every aspect, he concluded that you still cared to treat him.

She’s just teasing me. I can tell. She wants me to work for it. Of course, women don’t want to accept it, and it makes them look desperate; they love it when a man works for them; it’s only an act of chivalry that those women crave. Yes. Yes. If she didn’t care about you, she would have ignored you. She wants you. She does. Leon was trapped in his thoughts as he bit into the fluffy muffin, biting into a sour and sweet raspberry-rich quadrant that fueled his delusions even more. He watched the chief’s door intently, knowing that he just needed to be more persistent with you; the next time he saw you in the break room, you would say yes. Leon had it all planned in his mind.

~~~~~

You were overly cautious now. You knew Leon didn’t do anything wrong, per say, but it made you uncomfortable; something about his demeanour threw you off. It wasn’t even the fact you weren’t attracted to him; you felt an unnerving aura on him. Your eyes darted around you before you entered the break room, watching the coffee machine and tapping your fingers on the counter, blinking every time a second went past and wanting time to hurry up.

Come on, come on, come on, you kept saying like the machine would obey and go quicker.

You heard footsteps linger around the room.

Oh god, not now.

Of course, who else would it be? Leon peered through the corner, watching you, already glued to the door, with an unwelcoming gaze piercing him.

“Hey… Can I talk to you?” he was back in that shy demeanour again.

“If you must,” you coldly replied.

“I’m sorry if I came onto strong… I didn’t mean to creep you out; I’m just not used to this sort of thing,” your brow relaxed for a moment as you waited for a real apology, “but I do really like you and-“

“You don’t know me, Leon,” your arms were folded, knowing he would try his chances again.

“I mean… We can get to know each other… that’s kinda what dating is about, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes.

Look at her, acting rude and nonchalant. It’s all part of her act, Leon. You’re just wearing her down, he continued to tell himself.

“I’m going to say this once and only one more time, Leon,” you said, stepping closer to him. “I’m not interested. It has nothing to do with you. I’m not interested in dating anybody now; I’m just here to do my job for the remaining time. Please understand I’m not looking for anything at the moment. I’m flattered, but I don’t want this.”

When you exited, your fleeting touch upon his shoulder sent shockwaves of longing coursing through Leon’s veins. In that fleeting moment, he entertained the notion that you liked the long game. Perhaps, just perhaps, your gesture or touch harboured a silent encouragement to persevere.

Once you left and went out of sight, you left Leon with another bitter taste of rejection upon his lips. he designated himself to the harsh truth: some desires are destined to remain unrequited, lost in the labyrinth of unspoken longing and unfilled yearning. Yet, in the depths of his despair, a glimmer of resolve ignited within him—a need to persevere despite the spectre of rejection that loomed over your conversations. His heart had fervent whispers that hoped you would stop this chase and let it just happen.

Leon’s darkened thoughts continued, standing still as he let those thoughts unfold; he wanted to keep trying to keep wearing you down, but he needed to satisfy a hunger to get it all out, to get his yearning and built-up frustrations out before he continued his chivalrous courting—a description he kept providing to make him feel better, in all reality anyone would just call this creepy. Still, Leon thought he was just playing the game.

Stage four: stalking

His fingers kept tapping as he waited in his car, tapping on the steering wheel at night for you to come out of the building.

You rejected him. Two times. But the second wasn’t the last, to Leon’s thought process; he was willing to play the long game with you, to wear you down; it wouldn’t take that long. However, there was one problem with all these build-up frustrations within him. He just wanted a taste. Just to see what you look like, but you weren’t so willing at the moment; no, you were holding back, and this led to darker thoughts bubbling and festering inside his mind, thoughts he needed to let out before it became overwhelming. He just wanted something to keep him going, to stop relying on bitches who couldn’t compare to you, to take his pictures, perhaps to let his motivations keep running.

He wanted you. Just you. No other girl.

His car was parked at the back, watching your car and waiting for you to enter. He saw you give one final wave and a comforting smile to a group of his colleagues—a smile only he wanted to be directed at him. You didn’t notice how he stared at you. The darkened atmosphere made it difficult to see anything that far, and as you stepped in, Leon started his engine, ready to follow you at a distance and find out where you dwelled.

He followed the road, making sure not to get too close, watching you from the back window to make sure you weren’t looking back in suspicion; when you finally stopped at your destination, he made a loop around the corner to make it look like he was just taking a similar path and went on if you noticed his car. In all honesty, you did notice that car, but you couldn’t make out who was in there. but after he had driven past, your piqued anxiety levels went down, telling yourself that it was just some person taking a similar route, feeling silly for overthinking.

After Leon had done his little tangent driving, he found a place right in front of the building, watching as the window lit up.

That’s got to be hers.

You always had your curtains open to get some sunlight in during the day at work. Still, your innocent affairs managed to make Leon’s job easier as he watched you from the distance of his car—he was parked in the perfect spot, a place you couldn’t see when looking down from the top floor, but somewhere that gave a clear view of what you were doing by the window.

He watched as you unpacked everything, feeling emotional responses and inpatient anger when you strayed away from his sights.

Unknowingly, you started to undress, taking your blouse off and revealing your lacy bra; this was it; this was the moment Leon pulled his phone and pressed that button to take dozens and dozens of pictures of you, watching you stand in front of the window without a care in the world. Watching as your hand slithered to the back of your hooks, his eyes widening as he moved closer to the window of his car, ready to take pictures of your beautiful body, he felt his cock hardening against his trousers as he waited for you to expose yourself.

You winced as you unhooked your bra, feeling where the underwire pressed into your skin all day, exposing yourself to Leon as he zoomed his camera in to take pictures; he cursed at his phone for blurring and not taking better quality, wanting to see your bare chest. As he was practically salivating, your head darted to the window, recognising you had forgotten to draw the curtains, placing your blouse back under your arms before hurriedly covering Leon’s shot, looking around and thankful that no one was in the streets to see you—oh if only you knew.

“Fuck,” he let out a low curse as his cock started to no longer press against his tight trousers watching your windows be nothing but a dark-covered void now.

But he wasn’t all that disappointed. He managed to get some decent pictures to settle him for a bit longer.

~~~~~

He drove back to his apartment. To his glee, it wasn’t too far from his, perhaps a fifteen-minute drive from yours to his. He hurriedly fumbled with the keys of his place, kicking his shoes off and stripping naked in a matter of seconds as he lunged for his bed, wanting to indulge in those pictures before he lost his high.

He lay on the soft covers, naked, looking at each photo of your unknowing face, how blissfully ignorant you were; he couldn’t help but smirk as he zoomed into your face of shock when you realised the curtains were open.

“Such a tease. You wanted someone to notice you… You wanted me to notice you,” he whispered.

He kept swiping and zooming into your bare chest, circling his thumb around your exposed nipples, wondering what it would be like to suck on them, to pinch them until you squirmed with delight, to press his cock in between your tits; all these thoughts continued to make him harder. Before you covered yourself up, the last photo was perfect; your hair was messy, forwardly in front of Leon’s view as he kept zooming in to look. He imagined a scenario where you were a complete whore for him. Imagining you looking down and pressing your hardened nipples against the window, perhaps leaving a kiss mark on the window while looking at him with those beautiful eyes and leaving a lipstick mark on the glass; that was it, that was the imagined scenario that got him going. His phone was leaving indents on his fingers from his tight grip; he could feel his balls tighten as a dribble of precum started to ooze out the tip, his fingers tightening their grip around his large and thick shaft as he followed the flow of his thick veins, smearing the precum along the direction of his hand pumping along his length. He bit his lip as he whimpered out your name, his core tightening as he continued to look at your unknowing face. He started to think what your face would look like if he pushed his hard cock inside your wet cunt; he could just tell you were a screamer, and he wanted to hear that pretty mouth scream out his name. He imagined how you would feel as your tight hole would wrap against him.

He could barely breathe, and his breathing patterns became laboured, and his chest continued to rise and fall at a rapid pace, a groan released as he kept moaning your name. “Fuck I need you,” he moaned as his head was thrown back into the pillow, cum spurting all along his torso, slowly rubbing himself before letting go and being left to think about what his next course of action was.

Stage five: possession.

What was the point of asking you out again? Leon tricked himself into believing you set out a game for him to play, believing that you wanted him just to try a little harder for you; no matter how much distance you placed between him, he kept thinking you were just making the test harder—to him this was just another challenge he wasn’t going to put down. But this game, Leon forced himself to believe, was difficult; this game of yours would be over if he got fired; if he asked you out again, he knew you would go telling the chief, and every single person knew how much a soft spot the chief had for you. He hated how other people held that spot for you, hated how people noticed the good in you; that was something only he should notice; a burning rage within his chest flowered every time he thought about people experiencing the kindness only he wanted to experience and witness.

He wasn’t going to lose interest until he got you. Hence, he felt drawn to execute his plan for a little treat.

Leon needed to ease his frustrations and pent-up desires just to get a taste of you, to obtain further motivation to keep seeking you out, to keep wearing you down until you realised you were made for him.

For the past week, Leon kept going to your place but could only snap pictures with you fully clothed; how boring, he thought every time he pointed the camera to your window and waited for another good shot like that first night. Every time he left without seeing more of your bare chest, he still smirked behind the screen every time he saw your unknowing face, oblivious to how close he was to you—but he needed more.

To execute his plans, he needed to do some research. He planned to stop having the building be a physical obstacle against his needs, looking up your apartment complex and looking at the rooms ready to be rented out, focusing on the ones on the top floor—your floor—and looking at the floor plans. With just a few clicks on the internet and a few drives, the type of information you can get was amazing; we all know the saying, if there’s a will, there’s a way. He found those floor plans with the available pictures, seeing that all of them were similar, the only difference being the placement of the bedroom and bathrooms—the only thing in his way now was getting inside.

When your lights turned off, he was ready for his plan to continue; he marched up to the doors, running through the rain and making his way to the doors, waiting for someone, making a show of forgetting his keys—it came easy to him to lie and perform.

“Oh god, not again,” he started patting down his pockets, looking around until an older woman came along, giving him a gentle smile that signalled how his acting was believable.

“Have you forgotten the key to the front door?”

“Yeah… I always forget the key to this door; I moved in only a week ago; I need to get used to it.” In another email, making a whole other identity, Leon managed to send a few questions to the landlord, knowing that there were two keys given to the occupant, a front door key and an apartment key—as said, he did his research before coming to your place.

“Oh dear, here you go,” she let him in without a second thought. His innocent facade took her in as he thanked her: “Don’t worry about it, sweety. Forgetting is an easy thing. You have a great night.”

She waved him off as he pressed the elevator button, thinking to himself I will have a great night, clutching onto the straps of his backpack, waiting for the elevator to ascend to your floor; every time the number of the level changed, a jump in his chest was felt, excitement and anticipation running through his emotions as he thought how much closer he was getting to you, to be with you outside of work—finally.

It was almost too easy to find where you were; he knew what side you were on and only needed to count the windows he saw on the inside until he made his way to yours; it was just two windows away from the very edge of the end; he pressed his ear against the door, hearing no sounds of your consciousness still roaming around. As he made sure his coast was clear, he collected a lock pick from the smallest pocket in his bag; he was a cop, after all, he knew his way around and learned how people did this; they ought to be careful who they let in this field of work.

The silence within your place made the room feel empty; he was hit with your signature scent that sent a blush rushing to his cheeks, his heart beating at a constant quickened rhythm as he processed how close he was to you, how close he was to your private realm that he snuck into, everything about you could be learnt just within these walls—but he needed to stay at the task he provided himself. He made his way into your room, padding silently down the hall; he breathes in deeply as he reaches for your white-painted bedroom door, thankful it wouldn’t make a sound as you had left it a crack open.

She’s practically asking for it; Leon’s delusional monologue kept running rampant in his thoughts.

You were fast asleep, as planned, curled up in the countless pillows and blankets you had surrounding you; Leon couldn’t help but find you adorable how you were cuddled up, but he couldn’t let his admiration of you stop his tracks. His backpack hit the floor, making you jolt in movement, but only shifting your legs into a more comfortable position; you were out cold, giving Leon the perfect opportunity to continue with his plan. He retrieved a cloth, draining every last drop of chloroform on it, it dripping all over the floor; with a few searches, he knew it wasn’t going to be a quick breath in like the movies presented; he knew he had to press this on your nose and mouth for at least a few minutes, the fact you were a heavy sleeper made it very easy for this to happen. While you were away in dreamland, he gently pressed the wet rag on your nose and mouth, pressing just enough for you to inhale deeply but not enough to force you awake; you felt almost a tickle sensation on your nose, just thinking it was your fan pushing air on your face and causing an itch; oh how your naivety just made it ten times easier for Leon to indulge a little.

He watched your digital clock to wait for the appropriate amount of time to pass, listening to your breathing becoming shallower with every minute that past; just as the recommended time has been completed, he presses his ear to your chest, your heartbeat and breathing patterns being a murmur now; he couldn’t mess up now, he was in your room and ready to complete everything his fantasies were forcing him to do, he grabbed your face, his fingers pressing into the plush of your cheeks to give more evidence that you were asleep, but you would awake within due course.

It was time.

In a matter of seconds, he stripped off his shirt and jeans, throwing all the layers you put on yourself, his fingers tightening around the bands of your sleep clothes and peeling them off, exposing your naked and bare body right in front of him; his pupils dilated, his blush deepening, and his cock hardening as he processed how close he was to your naked form, your naked helpless form that was ready for the taking, ready for his taking.

As his eyes widen to encapture your whole form, he pressed a desperate kiss on your limp lips, pressing his hands on your chest, grabbing and squeezing them the more he placed wet and rough kisses on your soft lips; he couldn’t believe how you were just there, ready to fulfil everything he had been thinking of—this was the kick he needed, the little taste of motivation to keep going before you would be all over him, he kept thinking about the day you would help him get undressed and let him fuck deep inside you, but he had to settle for this time with you now before that happened. He released whimpers as he grinds his hips into yours, his hands underneath your thighs as he makes them go around his waist, kissing you like you were a hungry couple experiencing their first night together. He couldn’t help but be amused as he pinched your nipples, shocked as they sprung into hardened buds; lapping his tongue around them and letting them be covered in his saliva as he slid his tongue around them and placed gentle nibbles; there was just so much to do; and so little time; he wanted to feel and experience every inch of you, but time was limited, and this was just a taste for him before he wore you down.

He gulped as his fingers collected around his waistband, freeing his throbbing erection from his boxers, adjusting your panties to the side so he could slip his length inside you; his fingers started following the line of your folds, a spurt of precum forming around his tip as he watched your glistening cunt ready for him, pushing his hips closer to you and sliding his tip to push along your slit and hit your clit now and again, he felt his breath hitch as he stared at your wet pussy, biting his lip and letting out quiet and whispered whimpers as he pushed himself inside you, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he placed his hands on your hips before bucking his hips and watching your motionless frame bounce with every thrust he forced onto you.

“Fuck, you feel amazing, baby,” he cooed like you could hear and feel everything he was doing, pushing his hard cock further into your sopping wet cunt that dribbled all over him, making it easier to slide and feel your walls grasp around him, making it hard to last long and savour this blissfully moment, to him, with feeling his dick be placed in something he wanted to own and possess.

He focuses on grinding the head of his cock, pumping it further and letting it continuously hit and bruise your delicate cervix. As he watched your tits bounce, your closed eyes in a tranquil state, he pictured what it would be like to hear you moaning his name, to feel you roam your hands over his biceps and chest as you begged him to cum inside you. He bent down to the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet and addictive scent with a sigh; as much as he wanted to fill you with his seed, to fuck it further inside you and take ownership, he didn’t want to make such a mess; most importantly, he didn’t want to make a mess that could be tracked.

As he felt a deep gruntle moan erupt out of him, he pulled out and let it spurt all over your soft skin, watching how much of messy darling you looked underneath him.

He thought how easy it would be to drag your helpless body somewhere where you could realise your love with him, somewhere where Leon could fulfil every fantasy he wanted to on your gorgeous frame.

“You’re mine, sweetheart. Forever mine.”

Being delusional is a dangerous thing for the obsessive.

star divider is from @/inklore

please note the best way of supporting your writers is by liking and reblogging, i send so much love to everyone that took the time to read this and hope everyone has a lovely day/evening.

#dead dove do not eat #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy x afab reader #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagine smut

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allur1ngs · 5 months

Note

funny thought I had: hyo asking reader for dating advice and reader being like “lose the sunglasses” yk cause hyo has pretty eyes and her being like “but I can’t they’re basically a part of me” and “they make me look cool” “dont girls like that sort of thing??”💀 imagine bada overhearing and telling hyo not to get any funny ideas and to focus on her work 😭 — @aericrys

AERI. THIS IS GOLD!! 🕶️

“What, in your opinion, makes a woman attractive?” Hyo asks you.

You pause. You're currently standing on a ladder, about to reach for another book to read from the Lee mansion’s private and extensive library. “Where’s this coming from?”

Hyo sighs, moving to lean against the ceiling-tall bookshelf behind her. “Promise you won’t make fun of me?”

“Oh come on Hyo, do I seem like the type of friend to do that?”

Hyo cranes her neck up so she makes eye contact with you, quirking her eyebrow with an unamused expression.

“Okay, maybe I am…” you laugh lightheartedly. “But I promise I won’t this time.”

“And you won’t tell the girls or the Boss either,” Hyo adds.

“I won’t, I promise.”

Your bodyguard lets out a dramatic sigh. “I was thinking about getting back into dating–”

“No, way! Really?” You say excitedly, while grabbing the book you wanted.

“Yeah,” Hyo nods. “So I downloaded this dating app–”

“Oh Hyo…” you wince, closing your eyes and shaking your head. “A dating app?”

“What? I thought that’s what people normally do these days,” she says.

“A lot of young people do use dating apps, yes, but mostly for hookups,” you climb up the ladder more, locating another book from your list. “It’s kind of a mixed bag if you want a serious relationship to come from it.”

“Well, I already downloaded it and made a profile,” Hyo huffs. “But all the women I keep matching with suddenly stop messaging me back.”

“Can I see the pictures you have on your profile?” You look down to see Hyo nod, then slowly climb down from the tall ladder, multiple books still cradled in the crook of your arm.

Hyo pulls out her phone, opens the dating app, then shows you her profile.

The pictures aren’t terrible, but they aren’t great either. Although Hyo’s very good at taking photos for other people, it’s clear she hasn’t figured out her angles very well. She has a few taken at slightly awkward angles, but she also looks pretty good in them. You suppose it’s the advantage of being a more masculine woman–you can look good without even trying. And with Hyo already having naturally attractive features, she has a leg up.

“Okay, I already see a massive problem Hyo.” You look over at her, a frown settling on your lips. “You look like you’re scared of the camera in all your pictures.”

“What?” Hyo takes back her phone, squinting at her screen. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” You point at a picture where she’s half smiling, half deadpanning, making an odd combination for an expression. “You look terrified.”

“I’m not–”

“But honestly, you could have gotten away with it if you just did one thing.” You cut her off.

“Wha–”

“Take off your sunglasses!” You exclaim, pointing at the black-tinted shades placed on top of her nose bridge.

“What? No!” Hyo says back, her pitch rising. “I can’t, they’re a part of my look.”

“Your look,” you gesture to her figure, “screams ‘I work for a mafia boss, and you should be scared of me!’”

“No, the sunglasses make me look cool,” Hyo argues back, shaking her head. “Wait… they make me look cool, right?”

“Yes Hyo, they can make you look cool, but coupled with the way you dress and your deadpan attitude, it makes you seem cold through text,” you state. “Taking off your sunglasses will show a more human part of you. Besides, you have nice eyes, you shouldn’t hide them.”

“I don’t know…” Hyo trails off, touching the frames of her sunglasses. She shakes her head, “Okay, then tell me what else I can do to make myself more attractive to women.”

“Quite the interesting question to be asking my fiancée, Hyo.” Bada’s voice suddenly echoes through the library, her tall frame standing right next to the door. She has her arms crossed over her chest, and one eyebrow raised upward as she stares your bodyguard down.

“Bada!” You smile widely at her.

“Hello,” she says, a natural and soft smile finding her lips easily as she approaches you. “I took a break and wanted to see you.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” You glance over at Hyo, who’s frozen still in her spot. “We were just talking about–”

“It’s alright, I heard everything.” Bada interrupts you.

“Oh…” You trail off, then nudge Hyo in an attempt at breaking her out of her stupor.

“All I can say is that women like it when you show them a more vulnerable side of yourself.” Your fiancée stops right in front of you and takes the heavy books you’re carrying out of your arms, holding them like their combined weight is nothing.

You shake your arms, having not even realized that they had begun to ache under the weight of the multiple books you’d been carrying. “Thank you.” You say, latching onto Bada’s unoccupied arm.

“You’re welcome, honey,” she says softly, before glancing at Hyo (who is still rooted in her spot), with mild annoyance. “Next time, instead of asking my fiancée for dating advice, do your job and help her carry her books, Hyo.”

Your bodyguard finally springs to life, nodding rapidly. “Yes, Boss.”

#౨ৎ melody's mafia au #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #bada lee #bada #street woman fighter 2 x reader #swf2 x reader #not including the taglist because it's more like a hyo and reader bonding moment w a bit of bada on the side

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ivesambrose · 8 months

Text

Rest of 2023 Forecast 🎐

1. 2. 3.

Just like that, it's already autumn 🍁

How was everyone's year so far?

Mine was rather eventful towards the later half.

But let's take a look into what the closing messages of 2023 are for you 🩵

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at [email protected]

Personal Readings

Masterpost

Thank you for the tip

Picture 1

Realizing that you want to do and achieve certain things for yourself and not because someone expects way too much from you and you have to somehow gain their validation. However, you'll also come across people who inspire creativity in you and encourage you to step into your power, be more assertive without the fear of standing out.

Whatever labour you put in around this time will have it's turn out by next year. Stay patient, it will be rewarded.

You'll slowly see fortune turn in your favor, there might be sudden changes that push you to walk away from a certain place or situation but you'll be happy to do so. It's likely you were waiting for it for the most part of thr year and it's happening now.

Some of you might also hit the lottery, win a jackpot, receive unexpected money through your business, work or just randomly have it come to you.

You'll be making plans for the next year to venture out, manifest important connections, make travel plans etc you'll be looking forward to having fun and admist all the fun you'll see situations that earlier were out of control or stagnant, fall into place for you.

Be wary of certain manipulative people who seem all talk no show, they're just trying to dupe you into something. Trust your intuition here.

If you have a business or working on launching one, you'll find the right people and see a lot of growth. Have faith in your abilities.

Picture 2

Initially I see you being conflicted with something, being unable to decide with the number of options in front of you. You might also be picturing the possible ways certain things can or will play out in your life and trying to stick to the best case scenario. Eventually, you'll be able to focus. You just require some discipline.

You may also be unable to see the progress you've made so far or are making but it'll suddenly occur to you that you've indeed climbed to the top of the ladder and overcame a lot of obstacles, you're almost there, so it's best to simply enjoy the process and the journey since success is imminent if you don't stop.

There's a possible union with someone special or even celebration with your friends. Gifts being exchanged and a lot of financial prosperity coming your way.

I see by the end of this year you'll be feeling lavish and happy since something significant came through somehow.

I heard the words, "seems I'm lucky after all!"

Picture 3

It may have been a tumultuous year so far, good news is thar youre finally finding your center. Body and mind in sync, slowing down and offering a better perspective of things.

For a lot of you, I see that you had been struggling with your health a lot both physical and mental, you'll be seeing considerable progress. You might start getting into exercise again, likely lower intensity ones, it will give you better benefits as well as put you in a meditative state.

Your true glow up starts now. Instead of pushing yourself to break and grind in order get something you'll simply allow yourself to receive. You might feel creative and want to get back to the arts be in sketching, keeping an art book, makeup, even cooking or fashion/fashion design. You'll be feeling more beautiful inside and out.

You'll be excited to welcome the new year, a new chapter of your life is beginning. You'll be feeling more energised and hopeful. Attend more events, celebrate with friends, make new ones, travel etc

You have a lot of intellect and wisdom, there's a power in your words as well as your voice, you'll be influencing the right people who'd want to be around you or know you personally. Have discernment when letting anyone in, eitherway the right ones will stay and add value to your life.

#free readings #tarot community #divination community #pick a card #PAC #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a photo #2023 forecast #spiritual community

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angelrari · 2 months

Text

gossip girl · pt. xvii

based on the tv series gossip girl

max verstappen / charles leclerc x socialité!reader

fc: elsa hosk (y/n) · taylor hill (léa) · barbara palvin (jolie)

a/n: hi! i'm so, so happy for the responses and the interactions the last chapter had!!! also i've hit +800 followers!!! it's insane to think so many people are reading this story. thank you so, so much!! here's a new part for you, hope you like it!🤍

prev | next

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gossip girl here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of monaco's elite.

joliedebelle

liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc and 102.223 others

joliedebelle karma is a cat purring in my lap cause it loves me.

view all 812 comments

yourusername ily

username the quote, the caption, y/n in the third picture... this confirms it's over i'm SCREAMING

username jolie please breathe if y/n and max are done

joliedebelle liked this comment

username oh mY GOD

· · · · ·

"what a fucking idiot". jolie said, rolling her eyes as you explained to her and lily how your relationship with max ended.

"jolie". you stopped her. "it's my fault".

"i am not saying otherwise, i am saying he's a fucking idiot and i stand by that". she replied. "also, seeing another girl the right after you break up? that's suspicious".

"yeah, i agree, you just don't happen to meet somebody else right after you break up with your partner...". lily said. "do you have the picture that gossip girl posted?". she asked to jolie and she nodded, quickly searching it on her phone.

"here it is!".

"let me see". lily said as she grabbed jolie's phone. "wait... i know her, i met her a few months ago. she's léa's friend. if i remember correctly her name is zoe".

"wait". jolie said as she starred at the picture. her eyes widened as memories came to her mind. "oh my god, now i remember it! i thought her face was familiar because i thought i had seen her somewhere around here, but no, she was in abu dhabi, i saw her at the club! she came with léa".

"now that's suspicious". lily declared. "do you think they met that night?".

"nah". jolie replied. "max was with the drivers all night, he must've known her from before".

"girls". you stopped them. "let's not do this. i don't care when they met or what's he doing with her. i'm the one to blame here, whatever he does afterwards it's none of my business".

· · · · ·

yourusername

liked by joliedebelle, charles_leclerc and 124.254 others

yourusername had to get my apartment ready for christmas, so here's a photo dump of how it went! 🎅🎄❤️

baked christmas cookies with my favorite girls @/joliedebelle and @/lilyfleury 🤍

"helper" 1 (@/joliedebelle did not buy one single christmas decoration or gift in the whole morning, just things for herself because "she deserved it").

"helper" 2 (@/charles_leclerc only came to eat the cookies and then had the worst idea ever - see number 4).

short trip to find a christmas tree (pro tip: don't let you friend with a ferrari tell you it's a good idea to drive there. we had to carry the tree all the way back home and then come back for the ferrari).

friendly reminder to also buy a ladder. "helper" 2 wasn't tall enough and i almost died (real).

the results!! (still decorating, but i'm so happy how the tree turned out!).

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charles_leclerc i definitely deserve more cookies after the effort i've put in decorating your apartment

lilyfleury wdym more???????????? you and y/n ate them all

yourusername we burnt the calories when we had to carry the damn tree all the way home i agree with him we need more cookies

charles_leclerc that's why you're my favorite

lilyfleury i hate you two😒

joliedebelle stop exposing me like that! (ily)

yourusername i literally lost a whole morning because you didn't find some sneakers you wanted (ily2)

joliedebelle it's called investing time, not losing!

username please her and charles in the fifth picture it's SO cute

username it's giving couple behavior

username it took her a week to move on max sweetie i am so sorry

username max literally went on a date with somebody else and you're blaming this girl for hanging out with her friends joliedebelle liked this comment

· · · · ·

the chatter coming from the living room could be heard from the kitchen. spending the evening with your friends had filled your heart with joy, but a few minutes ago you started to sense an anxious feeling creeping in. it had been like this for the past week, the guiltiness haunted you since the day you kissed charles, making you feel regret every single time you thought about your relationship with max. so, when the anxiety had started invading your body, you had excused yourself, telling everyone you were going to load the dishwasher quickly before it got too late. charles, who had known immediately what was going on, helped you carry all the plates to the kitchen.

"are you okay?". charles asked after he brought the last plates, placing his chin on your shoulder and his arms around your waist. the familiar perfume and his body always brought some sense of comfort.

"it's fine, it will pass". you replied, taking a deep breath as you kept rinsing some of the plates. "i just needed a couple minutes to clear my head".

"i hate seeing you like this". he muttered before placing a soft kiss on the side of your head.

"i'm sorry".

"don't apologize". charles said as his hand reached to turn off the tap.

"what's wrong?". you asked as you dried your hands with a dish towel, turning around afterwards to face him.

"you don't have to go through this alone". he said starring at your eyes and you nodded. "you know this, right?".

"i know, i know". you replied as you lifted your arms to place them around his neck, pulling him a bit closer. "i'm sorry i've been distant these past days, i have a very short social battery lately".

"it's okay". he said. "i'm just worried because i haven't heard much from you this week. i know you tend to overthink and i know how you tend to push people away when you're sad, so i keep thinking about you non-stop".

"i'm sorry i-".

"stop apologizing".

"sorry". you repeated and both of you chuckled. his hands, that were still resting on your back, pulled you closer and you rested your forehead on his. you took a deep breath with your eyes closed. somehow charles always made you feel at peace when he was around you. "i needed some time alone to sort out my thoughts, but i promise i'm not pushing you away".

"good, because i don't plan on leaving anytime soon".

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lilyfleury posted a story!

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see-arcane · 1 year

Text

Lucy and Jonathan

“We met some time ago a man that would just do for you, if you were not already engaged to Jonathan.”

I’ll admit, while it probably wasn’t anything more than an airy throw-in without any real barbs behind it, the inflection on Lucy’s comment followed by the idle advertisement of upcoming character, Dr. John ‘Jack’ Seward, as a higher-up-the-ladder ‘what-if’ prospect, still kind of stung to hear. I know it’ll get sanded back in later chapters because—minor spoilers—context clues will show that Mina, Lucy, and Jonathan have known/been friendly with each other since they were kids, and comments from future letters will show a more mutual regard. So it makes me wonder what the reason for the implied derision was.*

*(Beyond her possibly trying to push Jack in a way that says ‘Nope, No, I Choose Not to See the Crush, No Thank You, Hot Potato.’)

My guess? It’s a bit.

Specifically, a holdover from hers, Mina’s, and Jonathan’s earlier days when all of them had grown into adolescence, social mores started getting hammered in in earnest, and Mina and Jonathan were just starting on their official courtship.

Suddenly, they’re no longer a trio of kids enjoying each other’s company. Now it’s two young ladies—one rich, one poor—and a charming young man—also from a lower class. Considering the period, it would be only too easy for whispers to start flying behind fans and cigars that the young Mr. Harker might consider leveling up his prospects, or that the lovely Miss Westenra, a veritable Victorian Helen of Troy, might idly snatch her low-born friend’s man out from under her nose on a whim. And aren’t they such a pretty picture? Quoting their Shakespeare at each other, so intriguingly close compared to most men and their ladies’ friends…unless there are certain extra friendly circumstances involved, ha ha.

A ribald comment too many from coworkers at Hawkins’ firm and a backhanded compliment or three at the latest spring ball probably shocked Jonathan and Lucy respectively into action. Bonus points if one of the inciting remarks came from some tittering debutante, “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You two are so alike! Such sweet bonny things, parroting the Bard at each other, prattling merrily about the latest little outing without stopping for breath. Really, Lucy, he would just do for you.”**

**(Some have wondered if Lucy was nudging Jack toward Mina due to certain similar traits they shared. Some morose aspects, intensely focused, interests in modern technology. You’ll see when you meet him. Either way, it’s another parallel to ponder here.)

Cue Mina having to endure her loved ones defending her honor from being dubbed a victim of romantic betrayal in the most vaudeville manner possible. Though she should expect no less from Theatre Nerds 1 and 2.

When they go out, Mina is permanently sandwiched between them as if they’re ducking behind a red-faced shield. Lucy brandishes a parasol to ensure they’re at least the shaft’s length apart; sometimes she’ll even open it to make sure they’re not swayed by looking upon each other, may Heaven forbid such scandalous temptation! Jonathan sits on the bench with them with his hat pulled down over his eyes for safety’s sake. At least a quarter of an hour at the start of each outing is dedicated to a back-and-forth of:

Lucy, nose up so high she’s looking more at the ceiling than him: Mr. Harker.

Jonathan, checking his pocket watch to see how long he must endure this most arduous company: Miss Westenra.

Mina, head in her hands: It’s been months.

Lucy, scoffing: Months of torment in his presence.

Jonathan, scoffing harder: Agony in hers.

Lucy, on a fainting couch: However can you stand him, Mina?

Mina, about to pull her hair out of its pins: You helped him pick out the ring, Lucy.

Jonathan, picture of woe: Tormentedly, of course.

Lucy, nodding: Agonizingly.

In short, Jonathan 🤝 Lucy:

#they think they're so funny #and they are #lucy westenra #re: dracula #dracula daily #dracula #jonathan harker #mina murray #mina harker

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haunted-moon · 4 months

Text

Long Way Home [Part VIII]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 1 here. Read Part 7 here.

Read Part 2 here.

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here.

Read Part 5 here.

Read Part 6 here.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part VIII

Since winter was settling in, there wasn't much work to do outside. My father had cast a powerful spell on the surrounding grounds to keep the water pipes from freezing, and the dead branches to always find their way to our wood stores.

There was no work to do outside in the gardens, except harvest the fruit(if any) of the already existing plants and trees.

It was the season of oranges and strawberries, though, and they had grown abundantly. I kept what I needed for myself, then windowed the rest to my father to sell in the market or make wine. He sent me the wine bottles which I stored in the basement underneath the villa. Father had dug it out for storing wine and made a cold storage partition for other items.

When I was working outside, Azriel remained at a respectful distance and watched me. I had become used to it by now, and there were a couple of times where I had left some of the oranges and strawberries by the front door for him.

It was my third round of harvesting oranges and I had put up a ladder against a tree, balancing on the rungs with a basket in one hand. I carefully plucked each fruit and deposited them in the basket. There was one fruit just out of my reach, and I leaned a bit further to try and grab it. Before I knew it, I had slipped off the rung and was tumbling on my way to ground. I didn't even have the time to scream, but Azriel intercepted just in time and scooped me up, gently landing on the ground. The ladder had fallen on its side with the basket, the fruits spilling out of it.

"Careful," he breathed in my ear, and let me stand.

In Cassian's arms, I had felt excitement rush through me and made my heart race. Like I was standing on a cliff and about to jump.

Azriel's arms held me like they wanted my body to understand that I was safe, and my body responded by making me feel like I was in a tranquil bliss.

I quickly gathered the fruits, not acknowledging his presence. Leaving the ladder on its side, I entered the villa and closed the door shut.

That night, as I sank into the hot bath, I laid my head on my forearms and watched him through the window. It was almost a month now, since he started hovering around. I didn't understand it. Why did he run away like that when we discovered we were mates, and why did he come now?

I wanted to let him in and hear the answers from him, but not yet. I wasn't yet healed from the helplessness and humiliation I felt during the last meal we had together.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Two days later, I was harvesting the remaining oranges from the first bloom. Winter rains were frequent around these parts, and I could see storm clouds gathering in the horizon. They predicted a thunderstorm later on. Azriel hadn't arrived yet, and I didn't want him to get caught in the storm.

It began that night as I settled into bed. Azriel hadn't come at all, and it was good. The heavy rain lashed mercilessly against the windowpanes, and I fell asleep to the sound of it.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Tags:

@kalulakunundrum @thelov3lybookworm @hnyclover @impossibelle @sourapplex @brujitafantomatico @venuseuripedis @darling006

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 9 here.

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

[I am overwhelmed with the amount of responses I've received for this fanfic. Thank you very much. This will be my last post of this year, as I have exams in my midst until January 7th, 2024. That's why I double posted today. A very happy new year y'all, and see you soon!]

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stuckinthesun · 11 months

Text

Rick Grimes x Reader // 6x11 angst

Warnings: heavy angst, cheating, mention of a panic attack

Don’t actually yell at me if you get upset I warned you

You were on wall duty the night Rick and Daryl brought back some guy they called ‘Jesus’. You had signaled for the gate to be opened and watched as they drove the car in, parking it.

Rick climbed out of the drivers seat just as you finished descending down the ladder, and you quickly jogged up to him giving him a quick peck, “Hey, glad to see you’re back okay.”

“Yeah,” He sighed, clearly tired and frustrated. He gave you a half smile before helping Daryl lug the unconscious man away.

That was the last time you saw your long term boyfriend till very early the next morning. You were on your way home from finishing your shift to find many of your group rushing into your house, weapons drawn.

Alarmed, you instantly took off into a sprint, entering the house right after Maggie and try pushing your way up the stairs.

“Wait Y/N,” Abraham says as you try to move past him, he has his back to you, gun trained on something, and your heart sinks.

“Abe, move.” You easily duck under his arm, and when you stand up you’re instantly confused.

The man from last night is sitting on the stairs, holding a picture and looking extremely confused. Carl, Daryl, and Glenn all have their guns out and pointed at him, but look extremely pissed.

You notice movement behind Carl and that’s when you see it, that’s when you understand.

Rick, standing there, pants undone and struggling to get his shirt on, with Michonne standing behind him in almost the same state. In the doorway of your bedroom.

You just stand there, probably looking stupid, staring at the man you love very obviously come out of bed with another woman.

Rick stares right back at you, his eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, until eventually, “Y/N-“

“Daryl, move Jesus to the dining room.” You cut him off, not even thinking just acting. Just going on instinct, remembering that there is a crowd of your family here and that you can’t, you won’t, do this now.

Daryl does as you say without question, grabbing Jesus by the back of his coat and hauling him down the stairs. The rest slowly follow him, sparing glances at the three of you as they go.

Once everyone is out of the general vicinity Rick tries again, “Y/N-“

“No.” You say calmly, looking at the dust on your shoes. It’s more appealing than their guilt and shame, “I want my things out of there at the earliest convenience.”

You turn around and start walking down the stairs, but a hand grabbing your arm stops you, “W-wait, Y/N we can-“

“Don’t!” You yell, the barely held back tears finally forming, and you yank your arm back, “Don’t you touch me! Don’t you ever touch me again!”

You don’t really remember much after that, the panic attack that took over completely removing your memory.

But somehow, you ended up outside, curled up in Maggie’s arms, crying your heart out.

Men are assholes even in the apocalypse🙄

#rick twd #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #twd rick #rick grimes x you #rick grimes angst #twd x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #twd #rick grimes fanfiction

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mosaickiwi · 5 months

Note

Hi hi, if your requests are still open, could you do [REDACTED] becoming self aware and finding out that the player is super obsessed with him? From his pov cuz I wanna see the internal dialogue. Been meaning to write this myself, but alas, writer’s block 😞

obsessed angel is best angel hehehe >:3c

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~Super Obsessed Angel~

The library was often slow in the morning, so you always put some extra time into helping whoever came in. You were getting a few books off the higher shelves for an elderly visitor. As you climbed down the ladder, a stack of novels held to your chest, you were completely unaware of the other visitor who’d been sneaking through the aisles since they arrived. [REDACTED]’s gaze was glued to you, lost in thought as he watched you go about your day.

Something about you had changed since he did away with the Ren persona, as if a certain switch had been flipped on in your brain. It was easy to connect the dots for them—you'd been so obvious about it. Or maybe years of watching you just made every little change easy to spot: you were utterly obsessed with them.

The first clue was a genuine shock for once. He'd dropped you off at your apartment after a date as he always did. You were well past nervous and shy the whole time, but it was to be expected since he wasn't “Ren” anymore. Under the dark mess of hair, black outfit, piercings and tattoos, he was a nervous wreck, too. Far more than normal to pick up the hints of what came next.

As soon as your door closed the dark-haired man pulled out their phone to admire you through the cameras placed in your home. He thought you'd surely wind down on your couch before bed like usual. Maybe even chat up a friend while catching up on your favorite anime.

Instead they were greeted with the sight of you still standing in the entry and typing away on your own phone. He quickly switched to watch your screen, eyes widening at the rapid barrage of texts you were sending to Moth. All gushing with joy about your date.

Of course he committed them all to memory immediately—and his eyes had widened at some of the more interesting things you'd typed before hastily erasing it for a slightly less unhinged message. But one in particular stood out.

“I don't think I can be normal about them.”

That was months ago, and each new thing you did only reminded him of it. He noticed everything and he loved it.

Your bright smiles as you leaned into their touch, their side, their embrace at any chance you got—they had his heart soaring. If only they had let you convince them to do away with “Ren” sooner.

You even accepted the ring once thrown away all those years ago. Still on the necklace he’d worn to keep it close to his heart, but now a favored offering he would catch you playing with throughout the day while distracted by something or another.

It was everything he ever dreamed of. Of course, the quirks you picked up when you thought they weren’t looking were just as fascinating.

The way you always hastily tucked your phone away when he came back into a room was precious. As if they hadn't seen the photo of them you used as a wallpaper, least of all the dozens of other pictures you thought were safely hidden in the depths of your phone gallery. He had a picture to match each of yours in the thousands that filled his own devices.

Innocent calls in the middle of the night where you’d say you couldn't sleep just to hear their voice. He thought about teasing you and saying you could just record it, but then you wouldn't have an excuse—a blatant lie, he knew—to call. They always wanted to hear you just as much anyways, if not more. And even if you did figure out how to record it, he'd make sure the audio file somehow mysteriously disappeared.

He was almost certain of your obsession once you started taking clothes. Hoodies and jackets were obvious, especially since he intentionally left them out for you. That was more than enough to have him practically ecstatic.

Until one morning after you spent the night he realized a few things were missing from his wash pile. A cursory glance through their security system’s recordings confirmed it. The items in question had been purposefully stolen from the middle of the basket so as not to arouse immediate suspicion, and squirreled away in your bag without their notice. He’d only left your side for a moment that day to pick up the takeout order at the door. You were starting to get careful. It made him all the more desperate in seeing what else you’d do.

The sound of a scanner beeping in the silence of the library brought him back to the present as you finished up with the elderly visitor. You politely bid them farewell before sitting back in your chair with a huff.

They couldn’t help but notice the hopeful glance you threw towards a spot on your desk that was obscured from their vision. No doubt the place where you always kept your phone during work. Your hand reached out of habit for the golden ring—his ring—dangling from your neck.

Were you thinking of him? It was only fair that he indulged you. He was thinking of you just the same. One text hurriedly tapped out on his cracked screen, and he was intoxicated by the love struck way your face lit up at the buzz of your phone mere seconds later.

Eventually he knew he'd have to come clean about spying on you. But he had a feeling you wouldn't complain too much. The obsession was finally mutual, after all.

#14 days with you #14dwy redacted #momo reqs #now they're BOTH silly lil guys yippee!!!#[redacted] is still worse tho c:

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chronicrabbit · 1 year

Text

A Very Steddie Christmas

Listen. I had an idea.

It’s post-Vecna. Steve and Eddie are friends. Eddie has had a hopeless little crush on Steve for years, yada yada yada. The usual shit. You get the picture.

It’s mid December and Steve Harrington is hyped up for Christmas.

Steve had always been a Christmas fan. He lives for it; the tacky decorations, the twinkling lights strung up on every tree and house on the block, the joyous atmosphere, the warmth of a good cup of cocoa on a snowy Hawkins night.

Everything.

Steve loves Christmas, even more so now that he has a Family™️ to share it with!

So when he overhears Eddie talking to Gareth about how he’s:

“Never had an actual Christmas”

he knows his services are needed.

He makes it his mission to give Eddie Munson the best Christmas ever, despite Robin’s teasing looks and Dustin’s frown of confusion.

He starts it all off with inviting him over to decorate inside and out, mostly because he doesn’t particularly want to do it himself and Robin point blank refuses when he asks her.

It’s not the funnest holiday activity, but the end goal is worth it; that’s what Steve’d always thought, anyway.

The Harrington’s were not terribly festive people, but they were deeply prideful and competitive, so naturally there were about five shelves in their sizable garage packed full of lights, tinsel, baubles, and other more expensive pieces of decor purchased by a fuming and wine-drunk Claire Harrington after a single and very passive aggressive conversation with Mrs. Thompson across the street.

Steve and Eddie work for hours, ending in tinsel littering every available surface, a bent gutter from a very close call with the ladder, and a declaration of hatred for string lights, but the huge grin on Eddie’s face is undeniable as they stand side by side, clinking together their hideous holiday mugs of eggnog and rum as they survey the impressive product of their hard work.

It looks amazing.

Mrs. Thompson, eat your heart out.

His next step is to bake his Nonna’s red-hot cinnamon snickerdoodles, the ones she’d sneak him every Christmas when he was a kid before his parents decided visiting was too much effort, and to watch a few Christmas Classics.

The cookies were meant to be a surprise, but Eddie shows up an hour and a half earlier than he’d said he would with the movies Robin had set aside for him and finds Steve in the kitchen, hair pinned back, glasses on, and red knit sweater covered in flour despite the apron tied around his waist.

He finds he doesn’t so much mind the change of plans as he and Eddie dance around the kitchen to George Michael, Eddie grabbing the batter covered wire whisk for a compelling performance of “Last Christmas”, a song he very clearly knows none of the words to.

Once the cookies are safely tucked away in the oven, they make their way to the couch, sitting nice and close for extra warmth as “It’s a Wonderful Life” begins to play.

Eddie talks through the entire first part of the movie, and when they return from the short break they take to retrieve the cookies from the oven and divvy them out between the two of them along with two cups of steaming hot cocoa, he talks through the rest through his mouthful of cookie.

Steve’s never enjoyed that movie more.

The third step is a bit more of an impromptu thing, because when Steve wakes up to see a fresh layer of beautiful powdery snow on the ground, he basically has no choice but to round up the party for the worlds most epic snowball fight.

Eddie complains at first, but quickly changes his tune the moment Mike manages to nail him directly in the face with a snowball.

He leaps into action with a declaration of:

“Oh it’s on, Wheeler!”

No matter how much Dustin swears you can’t win a snowball fight, Steve and Nancy definitely take the victory that day between her killer aim and his brutal throwing arm.

They split up into groups after the fact for some more snowy day activities.

El, Max, Nancy, and Steve build a little snow family together, Mike, Lucas, Will, and Robin work exceptionally hard to craft a nice sturdy fort with packed snow and ice (they write out actual equations and dimensions that make Steve’s head spin), and Erica, Dustin, Eddie, Jonathan, and Argyle make a serious of increasingly more ridiculous snow angels, ending in the five of them just tackling each other over to see what shape it makes.

Everyone stays out until their fingertips and noses are bright red and numb, finally giving in and heading inside once the sun starts to set and fresh snow starts to fall.

They clamber into Steve’s house, bundling up in blankets and huddling in front of the fireplace together to watch, much to Steve’s chagrin, the He-Man Christmas Special from the year before that Dustin had recorded over an episode of Night Court (Claudia was still upset with him over it).

And he couldn’t lie to himself and pretend he didn’t know how close he was sitting beside Eddie on the couch; close enough that their shoulders were bumping together with each breath.

He also couldn’t pretend he wasn’t enjoying every single time Eddie would turn to face him, to share in the excitement of whatever was happening on the screen.

Steve hadn’t watched a single second of the movie, far too focused on the dimples that appeared whenever Eddie smiled that big sunny smile, or the crinkles that appeared likewise around his big brown eyes, or the small freckle just over his lip…

Oh.

Well…

He’d have to adjust his plan just a little.

With that new information tucked safely away in his mind, his next step became very clear. Thankfully, he didn’t need a different gift idea than the one he’d already come up with, perhaps just a different method of delivery.

………

It’s the afternoon of Christmas Eve when he knocks on the door of Eddie Munson’s trailer, the only one in the park with a complete absence of Christmas decorations or, at the very least, a wreath or something.

Eddie answers with that heart stopping smile, dressed in a blue sweater Steve is 90% certain he snatched from Robin who stole it from him some time last year.

He doesn’t give Eddie much time to greet him, holding out a small green bag with a red bow.

“What’s this, Steve?”

Eddie’s eyebrows pinch together, his smile not quite dropped, more slanting into a look of gentle confusion.

“It’s a present. I couldn’t wait until tomorrow, so…”

Steve does a ‘here we are’ motion with his hands, pushing the present towards Eddie once again.

The movement seems to reactivate Eddie, who pulls Steve into the warmth of his living room with a shiver.

“You got me a present?” Eddie inquires the moment the door was closed behind them, protecting them from the bitingly cold air.

“Of course. Can’t have Christmas without the gifts, can you?” Steve laughs.

“Christmas,” Eddie repeats after him a bit dubiously.

“Yeah, I suppose you can’t,” he shrugs, as if he doesn’t know.

“Exactly, so!” Steve extends the bag towards Eddie once again, shaking it enticingly.

Eddie’s nose scrunches in that way it does when he’s very carefully considering something.

“Steve. As much as I appreciate the constant stream of hot cocoa and holiday cheer you’ve been bombarding me with for the past week, I gotta ask. What gives? Why are you doing all this?”

Steve sighs.

“Well, I…” he starts, licking his lips as he tries to sort out his jumbled thoughts before continuing.

“To tell the truth, I overheard you telling Gareth that you’ve never had a real Christmas before. I… I’ve always loved Christmas. It’s the only holiday my parents would stay home for- well, up until I turned 16, that is. So, I guess I just… wanted to give you one. A real Christmas, that is.”

Eddie presses his lips together into a thin line, his usually open expression strangely unreadable as he considers Steve closely.

He nods when he seems to come to a conclusion, reaching his hands out towards the little bag and clenching and unclenching his fingers as if to say:

“Gimme.”

Steve smiles and hands over the gift bag, his stomach turning somersaults like an Olympic gymnast.

Eddie tears through the tissue paper, sending it flying to litter across the carpet, until his fingers find the occupant of the bag; a single Polaroid.

He fixes Steve with a raised eyebrow before letting his eyes fall back down to take in the picture.

“Alright,” Eddie nods as if he’s trying to understand a joke, mirth-filled gaze landing back on Steve over the Polaroid.

“Ok, Stevie. Very funny.”

Steve can’t help the smirk that overtakes his own face.

“And it’s all yours,” he assures him, playing into the playful tone as he watches Eddie survey the snapshot of the guitar; a BC Rich Warbeast with a glossy black body and a cherry red flame motif.

“I’ll cherish it, Big Boy,” Eddie snorts good naturally, pressing the image to his chest with a dramatic little sigh.

“I sure hope you will,” Steve nods.

“It cost me most of my savings up front, and I still have payments to make on it for the next few months.”

Eddie eyebrows scrunch together at that, that puzzled look from before returning to his face as he pulls the picture back up to take a closer look.

“Steve, wha- this… is this in your living room in this pic- Did you…”

Steve watches as several emotions crossed Eddie’s face; confusion, bewilderment, disbelief, and then, finally, understanding.

“Steve…” he says in what’s barely a whisper, Steve leaning in a bit closer to hear him.

“Did you… did you actually…”

He can’t seem to finish the sentence, so Steve takes it upon himself to answer him.

“I know you’ve been missing your old one. It’s not the same, but it’s the closet I could find and it’s waiting for you under the tree at my place. I had to drive all the way to Indy for it, and it’s not new, but I checked it out and it’s only lightly used. The scratches were easy enough to buff out, and Jeff helped to make sure it was-“

Steve grunts at the sudden impact of a body against his, warmth flooding through him as Eddie wraps him up in the tightest hug he’s even been given in his life.

He can’t help the surprised laugh that escapes him, sputtering as some of Eddie’s hair gets in his mouth. He winds his own arms around Eddie’s waist, pulling him somehow closer and simply breathing him in.

“You are unbelievable,” Eddie breathes as he gives him a solid squeeze before pulling back, though he doesn’t relinquish his hold on Steve’s shoulders.

“So, I’m guessing you like it?” Steve asks through his smile.

“Like it? Stevie, I… I could honestly kiss you right now! You’re damn lucky there’s no mistletoe here, or else-“

Eddie’s words die out as Steve digs in his pocket, pulling out and raising up high above their heads a little sprig of mistletoe with the most charming smile he can muster.

He prays his nerves don’t show through as Eddie’s eyes meet his, wide with shock as they flicker back and forth between them and the mistletoe.

“Damn lucky,” Steve says, his tone steady with resolve even as his hand shakes.

In the next second Eddie’s lips meet his and it’s everything he could’ve ever dreamed of.

It’s everything every single cheesy little Christmas RomCom promises.

Magic.

When they finally part, both breathless and dazed and smiling like complete idiots, Steve tugs Eddie in close by his pilfered sweater.

“So? Was this a good first Christmas?”

Eddie’s eyebrows raise up and he honest to god giggles.

“Considering Christmas is tomorrow, I’d say it’s a pretty solid start.”

Steve allows himself a very John Bender-like fist pump, much to Eddie’s amusement as he pulls him into another kiss.

“As sweet as this is, Sweetheart,” Eddie whispers against his lips, hands fisting in the fabric of his sweater to hold him nice and close, which is lucky considering how hard Steve swoons at the word “sweetheart”.

“I feel the need to ask.”

“Anything,” Steve promises, nudging Eddie’s nose with his own as he presses a couple more gentle kisses against his grinning mouth.

“You know I’m Jewish, right?”

………

I might turn this into an actual multi chapter fic. Let me know if that’s something y’all would want!

#no Steve did not know that #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #Steddie #jewish eddie munson #I’m so glad that’s a tag #steve harrington/eddie munson

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lilac--sugar · 7 months

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The Epitome of Spring

Summary: It was more of a joke than anything when Astarion suggested a bathhouse. Even more so when Karlach tacked on a nice meal and a large round of beer at a nearby tavern. Yet, after a long and rough few days it was all the gang wanted. (Late act 3. Spoilers in general but specifically: Spoilers for Astarion's Quest, Gale's Quest, and Wyll's Quest.) Pairing: Unascended Astarion/Tav!Reader (gn!Tav) (Tav race with a shorter lifespan in mind) I also wrote it with my Tav, Kieran, in mind (pictured above). If there are any mentions that contradict this being gender-neutral please point it out and I will gladly adjust it! 💜 Rating: E (18+ Minors Do Not Interact!) Content Warnings: (In order of appearance) Cussing Throughout, Near Death Experience Trauma, Heavy Angst (that gets solved rather quickly), Smut (starts halfway through 2.4k mark), Blood (Astarion feeding from Tav) (not a warning but it does end in fluff). (If I missed any please let me know!) Word Count: 4.8k Author's Note: Not betaed. I did my best to comb it over. If you see any mistakes please feel free to point it out! But do so kindly, please.💜 Also, there is some dialogue used that came from the game (iykyk). (Also this was posted last night but I just woke up and checked and it wasn't on the feeds I tagged it in. If the post does exsist please let me know and I'll fix it!)

The last few days had been incredibly harrowing. You’d thought that once you’d entered Baldur’s Gate things would have settled down some. Of course, there were loose ends that needed to be tied but the stakes kept getting higher. Almost impossibly high. Just about literally knocking on Death’s door. You can still hear the loud clanking, hand grasped tight to the metal rung of the ladder, body numb from adrenaline. All wrapped up in the fear that this was it, that you’d be snuffed out of existence, topped with the bow of worry about one man and what might become of him should you not make it.

“Darling?” Astarion’s hand waves in front of your face and you blink back to reality, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just,” you take in a deep breath, your lungs aching for air and you didn’t even realize, “zoned out.”

His brow knits together in concern, but you don’t bother to look up at him. Can’t stand it. Don’t want to think of that face he made, still just a few hours fresh in your memory.

It all seems rather silly now, being stood in the middle of Baldur’s Gate’s finest bathhouse all awash in melancholy. It was more of a joke than anything when Astarion suggested a bathhouse. Even more so when Karlach tacked on a nice meal and a large round of beer at a nearby tavern.

Yet here you were in a building the size of a palace. The House of Relaxation. Every last inch of it was gilded in luxury. Built with warm sandstone polished to perfection, flex of copper glittering throughout. Etched into the stone were runes of all kind. Upon closer inspection you’d realized they were invocations of relaxation and healing. There were pamphlets left on the counter explaining all of their services. From massages to solitary baths down to more extravagant options that included happier endings. Not one for too much pomp, you opt for something more humble, something that sounded a bit enchanting.

“Uh,” Astarion was there at your shoulder as you paid the attendant and gathered your bathing token, robe, and towel, “Which one did you go for?” he asks, trying to catch a glimpse of your token.

“Something basic,” you say, tucking it between the folds of the towel.

“I rather hoped we could do something together,” his voice is soft, cracking just slightly with something. Disappointment? Sadness? Your heart sinks but you don’t turn around, don’t know what to say really. Frozen in place, mouth suddenly dry.

You can see from the corner of your eye Gale eyeballing the two of you as he often does. With him and Astarion sharing a little corner at camp it made things too easy for him to eavesdrop, feigning like he was lost in thought.

“Oh, go on Fangs!” Karlach lands a rather impactful slap across Astarion’s back, “we all know you don’t do basic! Go ahead and get one of those fancy package deals!” She plops a pamphlet in his hands, “There ya go!” She points down to it, “The Goodberry trio! Facial, massage, and luxury honey bath! Sounds like your deal!”

“Uh, yes, I suppose it does,” he still sounds rather dejected, another pang to your heart.

“When we’re all done we’ll go to the tavern down the street, get something cheap and cheerful!” She ruffles at his hair, “You’ll see your sweet Tav there! And we can head to camp all refreshed and our bellies full!” She smiles wide at him, “Besides! Me and them got the same thing so I’ll keep an eye on them. No worries, Fangs!” As she says the last part she moves to you, tossing her arm over your shoulder.

“Right,” he turns to the counter with a deep sigh. You turn to dare a glance. He looks dejected just like you thought. You feel ill at the sight. Karlach hastily herds you away.

“Karlach,” you say in a hushed tone, “I don’t-“

“I know, doll,” She winks at you, pressing a finger to the side of her nose, “We all need our time alone. I don’t blame Astarion for wanting to be with you after what happened last night. But I also understand that you need your time to process it. I just wanted to help in some way,” she pulls away once the two of you enter the public showers, “If ya need someone, I’ll be in the,” She pulls her token out to read it, “Drunken beer bath falls!” She gives you a warm smile before disappearing into a section of the showers.

Public as the showers were, they were still individual stalls, marble walls and black silken curtains for privacy. You slide into one and turn the water on. The shower hisses to life, coming out shockingly cold. The noise, the feeling of the cold water against your skin- you gasp and press back against the cool marble wall.

A flash of The Iron Throne flitters behind your eyelids. You press a hand to your chest. You and your party had decided to split up. Wyll would get his father, Astarion would get Omeluum. You’d get some prisoners down another corridor and Karlach stayed in the main chamber to take down Sahuagin warriors as much as she could. In your stupidity you’d gone back to help a cell you’d mistakenly walked away from. Determined to help them it cost you so much time. You’d barely made it out. The hatch to the submersible was closing on you. Survivors shouting to go. Astarion, Wyll, and Karlach screaming to wait just a second longer.

That’s when you knocked on the hatch with all your might. Hand holding onto the rung with some strength you can’t even fathom now. Your body goes weak thinking about that moment.

Astarion was the one that pulled you up, looked as though he had been ready to dive back down in there after you. His wide eyes full of tears, the fear. The fear in those eyes.

You’d launched yourself up with your legs at the same time he pulled you. The two of you becoming a mess on the floor of the ship. Silence fell over everyone as Astarion held you against his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head. He’d shushed you, told you to let it out as you sobbed into him. You weren’t one to cry but that moment made you realize something about you and your relationship with him. An undeniable truth that couldn’t be ignored forever. Forever. The word hurts.

You seem to phase back into yourself. Pressed back against the wall, the water has gone scalding. How long had you let it run? How long had it been burning your feet? You’re quick to turn the temperature down, wincing as your feet burn. You press a hand to one of the healing runes and little to your surprise the burning goes away. Healed. Feet normal again.

With a sigh you carry on with your shower, using the milk and honey toiletries they’d provided.

You slip out of the showers, realizing they’d only given you one towel.

Knowing you were moments from getting wet again anyway, you slip on your silk robe. The smooth fabric clinging to your wet form. You shrug as you grab up your towel and head down to the ‘Nymph Forest’ room. There had been many themed rooms but that one sounded the most whimsical to you.

You turn the corner into the room, body instantly welcomed with the gentle caress of damped leaves. A small pathway into the room opens up into a clearing. Golden sunlight shines down from a lush canopy above, casts the room in shadows and sunbeams. You can’t help but notice dew drops on the leaves act like prisms, a dance of rainbows swirl around you as you walk through. The ground beneath your feet is a soft lush moss, smooth stepping stones placed here and there. Bakers fern brushes at your ankles, sprinkled through them are different wild flowers in an array of colors. Purple foxglove, lily of the valley, pink bleeding-hearts. There are magnolia trees framing the edge of the crystal clear water. The bed of the faux pond is smooth stone like the rest of the building but the copper dances and glitters as the water ripples above.

How this was one of the more basic options you really weren’t sure.

You place your towel to the side over a rather conveniently placed overgrown root, designed to look natural but definitely a bench. No one else is around. Perhaps not many people prefer an overgrown forest like yourself. With a satisfied sigh you dip a toe into the water. Perfect if not just the tiniest bit too warm.

You undo the tie of your robe, let it fall down your shoulders.

“Tav?” Astarion’s voice is soft, tapering off in a wavering sense of unsurety.

You nearly jump out of your skin, quick to pull your robe up, doing the tie once again. You glance over your shoulder but there’s no one to be found.

“I’m sorry. I feel like you wanted some time alone, and trust me I plan to give you that,” he says. You turn your eyes away, focusing on the way the sunlight glitters off the water, “I just want to make sure you’re alright. Ever since last night you’ve been distant. It was horrible, the whole situation, but I’m worried that you’re not so much,” there’s a pause, he’s swallowing a lump in his throat, “in need of alone time but more pushing m- us- away.”

The sound of water lapping at marble fills the air in the wake of conversation.

“I know I’m just being insecure and darling, please, take all the time that you need, but, know that I’m here and as long as you’ll have me, I’m not going anywhere.”

You turn back again, look around the corner and can see him pressed back against the wall of the hallway, facing away from you.

“Astarion,” you can’t help how tenderly his name falls from your lips. You’re scared you’re giving false hope as he blinks, surprised. He turns himself to look at you, you’ve never seen him look more like a lost puppy.

“How did you know which room I’d be in?”

“Well,” he twirls a hand through the air, “I might have taken a peek at the attendant’s ledger when he turned away,” he shrugs trying to hide his sheepishness, “But, uh- I don’t want to intrude, darling, I just wanted to let you know.”

“I know. And I want you here. Please.”

He doesn’t hesitate to cross over to you. Adorned in his own silken robe, towel clutched in his hands. You gently take it from him, toss it onto the bench next to yours.

“We’ve always been honest with each other,” you start, “well, at least since you confessed to me back in the Shadow Cursed Lands anyway,” you follow up, causing him to purse his lips. It was something he still felt the faintest amount of guilt over.

You reach out and take his hands in your own.

“I think,” you take a deep breath, look up at the canopy of leaves, trying to gather yourself, “we should end this,” you say, finally looking back at him, knowing you owe him at least that.

“Oh shit,“ heartbreak and shock spread across his face and your heart cracks in half. Your words, his face, you feel like you’re going to be violently ill, “I- Did I do something wrong? Why? What’s changed?”

“I’m just scared of hurting you. I’m scared that one day I’ll die and leave you alone. I saw the look on your face when you pulled me up on the submersible. I can’t stand the thought…” Your eyes start to water. You close them in an attempt to stop from crying but it’s all feeble as the tears fall down your cheeks. With a thick swallow you nod your head, “It’s easier now when you don’t love me too much, while you aren’t so attached.”

You hear him let out a small laugh, open your eyes to find him with a sad smile, “Too late for that, my love. This little adventure of ours has taught me that we can’t let our lives be ruled by fear or else we never really live. I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid of our future. When I said I wanted you, I knew what I was getting into. And when I said I didn’t want to lose that, I meant it. Now, if you have an issue with committing to an immortal,” pain spreads over his face, “I understand that and I won’t hold you back from what you truly want.”

“I have no issue in the slightest,” you say, stepping closer to him, wrapping your arms around him in a hug.

“Good, darling, besides, there’s plenty of things that can be done,” he rests his chin on your shoulder, melting into the embrace, “we can try to find me a cure and you can learn Timeless Body at some point. That’d put us on level playing fields. Or perhaps make you immortal somehow? If that’s something you want?”

“Anything,” you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, “anything. I don’t care. As long as I’m with you.”

The two of you rest in easy silence, just enjoying the closeness of the other. After a moment he hesitantly pulls back from you.

“Are you ok aside from that? I know how terrifying it is, standing on the brink, looking out and seeing nothing but the dark void of death,” He cups your face, kisses you softly over your eyes. His thumb swiping away the tears that rolled down your cheeks, “Are you going to be ok?”

“In time,” you say, pressing a kiss to his lips, “Doesn’t help my fear of krakens much,” you’re trying to lighten the mood.

“Well, there were hardly any there,” he grins at you.

“No, but it’s just another layer to it all. Didn’t care much for the sea because of it before and now, kraken, being swept into the sea and drowning,” you shrug, “I think I’ll just carry a general fear of it from now on.”

“Fair enough, reminder, no dates out on a boat. Though, yachts are so nice,” he sees you shake your head, smile on your face, “oh well, Siilen's faen*. There’s plenty of other things I can treat you to. Right now, though, my sweet, I’ll leave you to it. I don’t want to impose.”

“Impose, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Deadly.”

“Well, then,” his grin grows.

“Astarion,” you pull away from him. He tilts his head, watching your form as you walk backwards from him, “If I’m going to try living again. I’d like to do so with everything life has to offer.”

“Are you sure? Are you in the right headspace?” he asks, following you like a moth to flame.

“Oh yes. If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded,” you say, being coy with his own words. You lean back against the tree, tilting your head to expose your neck.

“Darling,” he comes to you, presses his index finger under your jaw, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip, “let me see what I can do,” his fingertip traces down the expanse of your neck, circling down and over your collar bone, pushing your robe open just a bit.

You sigh softly, watching him through heavily lidded eyes. His fingers slide under the lapel of your robe, cool knuckles brushing over your chest, over sensitive skin that prickles under his touch.

He leans over you, his other arm resting next to your head against the tree. With his nose he nudges your cheek, causing you to tilt your head the other way.

You lean into him, go to kiss him but he pulls back slightly with a ‘tut’, shaking his head. With a soft, nearly frustrated, sigh you press your head back against the tree again.

Pleased, he leans back in, running his tongue over your bottom lip, then the top. Your lips part in anticipation for his but he remains a hairsbreadth away. His knuckles brush lower, leaving your chest and going lower, and lower. Your stomach flutters and a choked noise escapes you. He breathes it in, cool air flowing over your wet lips.

“Astarion,“ you say his name as a whispered prayer, sacred worship.

“Tav? Oh! I’-” your own name but not from Astarion’s lips. You don’t care, as you open your eyes, you only look to Astarion. You keep eye contact with him. His hand drops from you, eyebrows twitching in annoyance.

“Gale,” He pulls back just enough to press a kiss to the tip of your nose, “hold on, darling,” he whispers to you. His eyes fall on Gale, aiming a glare at him so finely honed from years of brooding it could level a small village, “My friend, my pal, my,” he grimaces just slightly, “buddy,” for what it was worth, Astarion, and you for that matter, did rather like Gale. It was just his persistency in the face of the two of you being an item that really got Astarion’s metaphorical blood, boiling.

“As you can see, sweet Tav here is rather occupied at the moment. With me. Their partner. Darling?” He turns to you and it takes you a second to pull your eyes from him, transfixed by him still.

“I’m sorry Gale,” you say, finally managing to look over at him, “I’ve tried to tell you so many times.”

“No, it’s me. I just, sorry, I just wanted someone to talk to. I’m seeing Mystra tomorrow-“ he sighs deeply, “I had hoped.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. Gale only waves you off, shaking his head, “Karlach is in the,” you pause trying to remember, “Drunken falls? She’s a great ear.”

“Right, I’ll go do that. Thank you,” awkwardly he slips out of the room.

You look back to Astarion who has a mix of adoration and contemplation on his face.

“What?” you ask softly.

“You’ve got a tender heart,” he says finally.

“Do not,” you protest, scoffing out a laugh.

“You do. I can feel it when we kiss,” his fingers move, come up to press under your jaw, right at your pulse, “I can feel it fluttering under my hand. Delicate like a little bird. You’re so sweet to everyone, even when they deserve to be told off.”

“He’s lonely, confused, hurt.”

“He’s bullheaded and taking advantage. He saw how you went off without me earlier,” he shakes his head, “an opportunist. I don’t blame him for trying but I do wish he’d stop. We’re together and everyone has recognized that but him.”

“I don’t want to think about Gale right now,” you say, taking hold of his arm, moving his hand up to cup your cheek, “kiss me, for Gods sakes, kiss me.”

He does. Softly at first, but you reach out, curl your fingers into his robe, pull him closer to you. Pleasure. One of the greatest highlights of life. Pleasure with the one you love, even more so. Hands move with expert precision, robes pushed off forms, bodies exposed.

The contrast of his cool body against your warm one causes you to hiss. He reaches under you, scoops you up under your ass and wraps your legs around him. You push back against the tree and cause the two of you to fall back into the open bath.

He gasps. You laugh. As if on cue the magnolia trees that line the bath release themselves of their flowers. Hundreds of pink and white petals falling all around you.

“You wild thing,” he says, coming up for air, “give a man a warning next time,” he scolds, and you grin across the water at him.

“Come here,” you say, taking perch on the smooth steps of the bath. Your body open for him, legs parted, arms resting back against the edge, “let me kiss you better.”

“Brat,” he mumbles. However, he can’t stay mad, not when there are petals adorning your hair and shoulders. His sweet, tender Tav. You look like the epitome of Spring. He knows you are with how you‘ve blossomed life back into the Winter of his own. He thinks Spring used to be his favorite, in a life long ago, knows it will be again.

“Takes one to know one,” you tease as he crosses over to you. He brushes petals off your shoulder and kisses you once more, tongue swiping across your bottom lip, asking permission. You tilt your head and grant it.

You press up against him, hips grinding. He moves a hand down, working it against you, his thumb swirling softly. You moan against his lips.

“Taste me,” you breathe out. Astarion nudges your head with his own, causes you to expose your neck for him once more. He presses his lips to the delicate expanse, “please,” you just about beg and he licks up the side of it, the cool air of his breath causes you to shiver under him. His thumb applies more pressure, wrist twisting just right, and shivers turn to writhing, “fuck!”

“That’s it, darling, I do love your little trembles of pleasure,” he coaxes. His other hand comes down, the pads of his finger pressing against your entrance.

“Fuck, yes, please,” you manage to say through a moan and he slips a finger in, eases in and out, rocking ever so slightly, down right teasing. You push back against his hand, your fingers going into his hair, you curl them, gently tug.

“No foreplay tonight?” he teases and you honestly adore it any other time but right now you need him. You need to feel this connection, to feel alive with him.

Gently, he eases his other finger in, rocks them in and out of you. His lips are at your neck and you tug again.

“Ask nicely, nibblet,” he murmurs, gliding his lips across the delicate skin there, dotting it with the slightest graze of his teeth.

“Please,” you whimper and he obliges, fangs sinking deep into your neck. Ice cold and yet the edge of pain mixed into your pleasure is delicious. You let out a cry, his name is a song from your lips. He curls his fingers up and hits that spot deep inside of you. His hands now working in unison. He goes to pull away from your neck, not wanting to be too greedy, “No, don’t stop. Oh Gods, fuck me, please,” you beg but he knows his limits with this. Just when he’s about to stop, the water around you charges up in a golden glow, and a rush runs through you. You’ve been restored and fresh blood comes pooling out of you, running down your neck, your chest, twisting through the water and white petals like smoke.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps and you press down against his hand again. He removes his fingers, realizing just how ok you are going to be. Limits be damned here. His free hand goes to your hip, his cock pushing lightly at your entrance. You meet him half way, surprising him a bit. He groans against your neck as he sinks deep inside you. Hotter than the bath and ten times more pleasurable. You are his favorite thing to sink into.

With free reign he drinks more deeply than he’s ever done before. The two of you rock your hips in unison, him hitting that spot inside you so perfectly. His other hand working you, never ceasing, thumb switching up in pressure here and there but still swirling perfectly over you.

You are brought to the precipice of darkness, warm numbness spreading over you before the water glows and restores you again. It’s on the third time that you feel the insurmountable heat pool up in the pit of your stomach. You’ve become a mess under him. Moaning and crying out his name. Damn the Gods his was the only name you need remember. The only name you needed to pray to. Your body trembles, the waves of hot pleasure building higher and higher until they crash down over you. You finish under him. You feel him pull back to look at you. You open your eyes, knowing he wants to see you, all of you, see your soul as you reach your release. He wants to see you blossom under him, finds you absolutely gorgeous as you do. It takes a minute later, before he tenses up over you, finding his own release in you. His head falls, forehead pressing to yours. Your breath mingles and you kiss softly, coming down off both your highs.

“Astarion,” your voice is almost weak as if all of this has made you lose it. He pulls back from you, softly licks your neck and down your chest. He doesn’t want to waste a drop of your precious life that you’ve given to fill his. He’s fuller than he’s ever been, the happiest too, he’s sure. It takes the two of you another moment before he slips away from you completely, the two of you wanting to keep that connection for as long as you could. Not willing to leave the other’s touch he turns around in your arms. His back to your front. You wrap your legs around his waist.

The water shimmers silver now and all traces of blood and whatever else have been cleaned from the water. The petals and flowers remain, drifting in the gentle current of the water around you.

“Do you think it’ll be a shock to you?” you ask after a moment.

“What?” he asks in turn, resting his head back over your shoulder.

“When you see your face again. You know, if we find a cure,” You rest your own head against his shoulder. The two of you becoming an amorphous blob, “And I know we’ve gotten you a statue from Stoney and Oskar painted you. But I suspect it’s not the same.”

“Ah,” he watches the sunbeams shimmer through the canopy of leaves above, “No, not quite. They’re great, don’t get me wrong. But they still feel a little separated. Not quite… me.”

“I’ve been thinking,” you say.

He hums in response.

“The courthouse.”

“What about it?”

“Well, they must have paintings of previous magistrates hanging up, no?”

“I-“ He turns his head, attempts to look at you, “I suppose.”

“You think maybe they have one of you? Would that feel less surreal or maybe more so?”

“I don’t know,” he looks off in thought now, certain that what you suggested might just be right.

“You could be in the library’s archives, too.”

“Gods, you really are something, aren’t you?” he sounds astounded and you duck your head into his shoulder, feel your cheeks burn at his praise.

“I wonder what color your eyes were,” you try to change the subject, can’t stand being complimented for long, even from him like you so adore.

“Perhaps a vibrant green. Something distinguished,” he turns his head, kissing the top of yours from your hiding spot.

“Nah, Astarion,” you lift your head, kissing the corner of his lips, “your parents probably named you for how you looked but also what they’d hoped you’d be. Hair like starlight, eyes strikingly blue, perhaps with flex of gold. All together they thought you’d be a beacon to bring hope and guide those who are lost.”

He huffs out a laugh, “A beacon of hope? Guiding those who are lost?”

He’s laughing in your arms, finding it absurd. Still, the thought causes trembles of happiness to spill out from him and you smile, pressing it against the crook of his neck.

“You could be. Maybe we’ll help the spawn once this is all over? You could be just that for them.”

He’s still giggling, wiping at his eyes as tears had started to fill in them, all happy you’re assured, “We could do that. Those pour souls need a leader. All of them are so tragic without one.”

“I take it back.”

“What? That I’m a beautiful beacon of hope?”

“I didn’t say beautiful.”

“Oh, it was heavily implied. We both know you meant to say it anyway.”

“Ok, yes, you’re beautiful. Gorgeous. No, the most divine thing to walk this planet.”

“Good, glad we agree,” He nestles back into you, content smile across his lips, “but really, what do you take back?”

“I think your eyes were brown. Deep and warm like rich dark honey in sunlight,” you press kisses over his shoulder and up his neck, just behind his ear.

“Mmm, that does sound alluring, tell me more.”

You press your lips to the shell of his ear, whisper, “How about, I love you? Is that good for more?”

“That’ll do,” he smiles.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he turns in your arms, kisses you softly once again. The two of you lost to one another. The rest of the gang long gone to the tavern before the two of you emerge.

You spend the night delighting in one another. Making the other laugh, giving a gentle touch, and kissing. So many kisses. You forget your fears of the future. For you know, without a doubt, he will be there and there will be love.

(* Elvish Translation: C'est la vie or That's life. I used a Common to Elvish translator so I'm not even sure it's accurate 😂 Hopefully it is though!) Last little note here! Gale is portrayed the way he is here because, personally, in my playthroughs he's been VERY persistent. I know he's just bugged and he's a darling really, but I just found it funny how often he tries to shoot his shot with my Tav.

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