#and then i sat and played the first game within like two weeks after that

[ilkkawhat]

7.21 Ending Happy

#csiedit #csi cbs #nick stokes #george eads #george eads thirst club #mk.op #mk.gifs #mk.edit #csi 7x21 #story time: #so as another in a long list of things i was exposed to long before becoming obsessed with #and after weeks of people telling me 'mk have you watched the last of us yet' #about three weeks ago i did finally sit and watch it #and then i sat and played the first game within like two weeks after that #and now here i am #completely satisfied and my face wet with tears from what i think is the best adaptation of anything converted to a tv show #and that first exposure came from me playing the game at this party i went to years ago at this place that's like a fun little arcade #but with console game systems #it was a work thing and i wasn't super social and so i started playing it but never picked it up after that #though i was told it was a great game #flash to now and lol it's funny cause i knew ashley johnson from her appearance in this episode of csi #so now that's two connections TLOU has to CSI given that pedro also guest starred lol #but anyway yeah. completely obsessed #been playing the second game all weekend #and spent the day rewatching the show up to the finale #it's nice to forget about the real problems i'm facing right now and just...immerse myself in something like this #as emotionally charged as it is lol

[theoreticslut]

「 jealousy, jealously 」

eddie munson x henderson!fem reader

summary: you were a part of hellfire long before your brother and his friends got to high school, yet they fit right into the club while you get pushed aside. 

requested: no

word count: 6.4k

warnings: light angst, jealousy, brief arguing/raised voices, lots of fluff, kissing, fake gagging, few curse words

a/n: i apparently can’t write short fics for eddie, but i don’t think anyone is complaining about it. plus, i think the fics are freaking adorable & i’m highkey kinda proud of them. so i hope you continue enjoying them, as i’ve got plenty of ideas for him with more coming daily. if you’ve got an idea you’d like done (for eddie or any other st character) feel free to send it my way & i’ll give it a go. also, i couldn’t think of a better title than this, but the actual fic has no purposeful inpsiration from the olivia rodrigo song. i hope you enjoy it regardless! Xx

Part 2 out now!

You groan as you see your brother and his friends make their way through the cafeteria towards you. Knowing it was their first day of high school, you had no doubt they’d try to sit with you. It’s not that you don’t want them to, but you’re terrified that they’ll embarrass you in front of your long-standing crush and dungeon master.

It had been a few months into your freshman year of high school when the small group of friends you’d found yourself in started ranting about how weird and creepy the Hellfire club - and their leader, Eddie Munson - was. You didn’t quite hold the same opinions, though, since you’d been playing the game for a few years by then. In fact, you had only recently given it up when the friend you played with moved towns.

It was during one of your free periods when their ranting became a bit annoying to you. You had started correcting and fact-checking them, forgetting that Eddie shared the study hall with you. You never even gave it a thought that he could hear the four of you talking until he stopped you at your locker after that period - the day, luckily, being over.

He wanted to know how you knew so much about the game which is when you admitted you had played. Of course that knowledge completely floored him. 

When he was able to pull himself back together, though, he offered for you to join them at lunch the following day to meet the group and see if you wanted to become their newest member. You agreed, and within the week found yourself a permanent part of hellfire with your own shirt and everything.

It’s been two and a half years since then and you were still a part of the group, happily devoting your Thursday evenings to play the game. Within these past couple years and all the Thursdays you’ve spent in his presence, though, you found yourself falling hard for Eddie.

It’s nearly impossible not to when he’s so charismatic and funny. Not to mention how kind, passionate, and beautiful he is. You’d swear he was a fucking angel, regardless of the image he tries to portray.

“Y/n! Can we sit here with you? Please?” You hear your brother almost beg, catching your attention as your heart starts to race.

You’ve never mentioned to the group that you have a younger brother, especially not a younger brother that also plays D&D. You knew they’d want to be introduced to him, and you fear that he'd slowly come to replace you in the group.

“Who’re these kids?” Eddie questions, hands clasped in front of his face as he looks between you and the three younger boys standing behind you.

“Uh, Dustin, here, is my brother.” You start, nodding towards him as he smiles.

“A-and these are his friends, Mike and Lucas.” 

“A young Henderson…hmm? Tell me, do you guys play?” Eddie asks the three boys, catching them off guard, their mouths opening and closing as they figure out how to answer.

“They do. They’ve been playing for a few years.” You answer for them, motioning for them to just sit down.

“Thank you.” Mike and Lucas mouth, having sat on the same side of the table as you with Dustin.

You sigh, smiling lightly as you nod to them. Of course you don’t want to upset Eddie, but you’re also not going to leave your brother and his friends to fend for themselves.

Wanting to move on, you take a bite of your lunch, hoping that Eddie leaves the topic of the boys joining you alone. Having known him for three years, though, you should know that he can’t.

“You’ve never mentioned having a brother, Henderson.” He comments, and you can practically feel his eyes on you as you stare at your food.

“The topic never really came up.” 

“Not even when I’ve mentioned wanting to find new members?” He lightly smirks, curious as to why you’d keep such a thing secret. 

Surely you realize how great having a brother that plays D&D is? Within the year most of you will be graduating, and he needs someone to pass the dungeon master title on to. Your younger brother and his friends just starting high school couldn’t be a better option.

“Figured you’d find him and his friends soon enough anyways.” you comment, still not looking up to the curly-haired adonis.

“Hmm, well they’ve saved me the work of searching them out by coming over here. Welcome to hellfire, boys.” 

“Wait, you’re just letting them join?” Gareth questions.

“Yeah. You’ve seen Henderson play. If they know her then they’ve got to be good.” Eddie smiles, making your cheeks flush.

“They’re good, but not on my account.” You mumble.

“Nonsense. Still can’t believe you wouldn’t tell us about them before now, though.” 

“How come you haven’t, y/n? I mean, you talk about them all the time.” Dustin asks, before taking a bite of his food. 

At his statement, the rest of the group seem to perk up, curious to know what you say about each of them. 

“I do not. I’ve only mentioned the club a few times.” You huff, feeling your cheeks heat up a bit more.

“Only a few times to mom and I, but I hear you on the phone with your friend talking about them every week.”

“First off, why’re you even listening to me on the phone? Secondly, the only reason I talk about the club is because I’m updating her on my life.” 

“Got a rather boring life then.” Dustin quips and you simply gawk at him, not believing him right now as a few surprised chuckles leave the rest of the boys.

“Shut up and eat, Dustin. No one asked for your input.” 

You watch him shrug before turning to Mike and Lucas while you stick to staring at your food, feeling the group's eyes on you. It’s bad enough you’re the only girl in the group, you didn’t need them to know you talk about them on a weekly basis.

Little do you realize that Eddie can’t help but find himself smiling at this new side of you. He’s been intrigued by you ever since he first heard you correcting your friends back in your freshman year. He couldn’t believe that such a beautiful girl would play the game he loved.

Of course, after watching you play and just spending time with you during lunch, he’s found himself crushing on you, even if you still remained a bit of a mystery to him. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you of his feelings, though. Not once in the three years he’s known you.

Hearing that you talk about the club, though, makes his heart race. You really enjoy their company so much that you’d talk about them to a friend? It’s insane to him, and yet it makes him feel giddy. He can’t help but wonder what you’ve said - about the club or about him.

~.~

“Lauren, I’m telling you! For as long as I’ve been a part of the club, my brother joins and suddenly that’s all they care about. They all like my brother and his friends better than me.” You sigh, turning onto your back as you stare at the ceiling.

“I highly doubt that, y/n. I’m sure it’s just that your brother and his friends are still new.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Laur. I mean, it’s not like I really bring anything to the group.”

“Y/n, you’re the only girl.”

“That doesn’t mean anything though.” You almost whine. 

You hate to admit it, but you’ve been feeling left out of the club ever since your brother and his friends joined a few months ago. You had the feeling that this would happen, even though you hoped it wouldn’t.

It’s not like you really bring anything to the group, though, now that you’ve introduced Dustin, Lucas, and Mike to the club. Your character isn’t super powerful or helpful or anything. You’re not the best roller. You’re just there...seemingly wasting space.

“Pretty sure it does. I mean, the way you’ve talked about…what’s his name, Eddie?”

“What about him?”

“The way you’ve talked about him, it sounds like he likes you.”

“No. No, he doesn’t. I’m sure of that. He barely talks to me.” You sigh, rolling over onto your stomach as you bury your head into the pillows.

“Y/n, hon, boys are terrible at talking to the girls they like!” Lauren laughs, and you know she’s shaking her head at you.

“Not Eddie. He usually can’t stop flirting, and yet he doesn’t flirt with me. I don’t even think he’s ever actually called me by my name, Laur. I’m just...Henderson to him.”

“Maybe you make him nervous.”

“Me? Make him nervous? Laur, you’ve lost your mind!” You scoff, knowing you could never make a guy nervous. 

Guys don’t even notice you, for crying out loud. How can you make them nervous?

“I don’t make guys nervous. Guys don’t even notice me, Laur. I’m not you.”

“Okay, now you’re just being down on yourself and I’m not going to have that. If this Eddie guy can’t see how fucking amazing you are, then he just doesn’t deserve you. Alright?”

“Not alright. I want him to like me. Like, a lot.” You pout.

“I’m telling you he does. If I’m wrong then I’ll drive myself down there and let you have free go at me. How’s that?”

“You know I’d never do that to you, but I’m telling you that you’re wrong.”

“Sure, I like him, but I know it’s never going to happen.” You sigh, twirling the cord as you stare at your bedspread, still laying on your stomach.

“What’s never going to happen?” You hear Dustin ask, making you jump and drop the phone.

“Dustin, get out of my room!”

“But it’s time to go! We’re going to be late if we don’t leave, y/n, and I don’t want to upset Eddie by being late.” He rambles, and all you can do is roll your eyes.

“Fine. Go get in the car. I’ll be right down.”

“Don’t forget that we’re picking up Mike and Lucas. And don’t forget your folder!”

“I won’t. Now go.” You groan, rolling back onto your stomach and grabbing the phone.

“I’m sorry, Laur. I’ve got to go.” 

“Time to go see your man, huh?” She teases and you roll your eyes, attempting to fight back a blush.

“He’s not my man. Never will be. I’ll call you later, though, okay?” 

“You better! Love you.”

With a ‘love you’ of your own you hang up the phone and roll off of your bed. Grabbing your backpack and a sweater, you slip your shoes on before grabbing your keys and leaving the room.

You really kind of hope tonight’s game goes by quickly, not wanting to be in Eddie’s presence longer than necessary.

~.~

Eddie can’t help but frown as he watches you tonight. He’s been noticing how you’ve been seeming more and more down, almost seeming to pull into yourself and away from the group this past month.

You’ve been quiet lately, which isn’t terribly out of character for you, but it seems different than normal. You don’t quite have that same brightness to you that Eddie’s come to look forward to each day.

“Henderson, is everything alright?”

At his voice you’re pulled from your thoughts, turning to look at the beautiful, curly-haired man that makes your heart race and palms sweat.

“Mhm. Fine.” You hum, nodding and sending a small smile in his direction.

“You’re sure?”

“Mhm.”

As you hum, you turn your attention back to your clasped hands on the table as you zone back out to Dustin and the rest of the group chattering around you.

“Little Henderson, is something up with your sister?” you hear Eddie question as he turns his attention to your brother. 

“Unbelievable.” You huff, shaking your head and crossing your arms as you slump back in your chair.

“Excuse me?” 

“Nothing. Never mind.” You mumble, staring at the table in front of you as you chew on the inside of your cheek.

All you did was zone out for a moment. You don’t understand why he’d have to ask Dustin what’s wrong when that’s all you did. It’s not like he’s ever actually taken notice of your emotions before to know that something is wrong.

“I think she’s upset about a guy.” Dustin speaks up after a moment and you can’t help but scowl at him, brows furrowed in shocked anger.

“A guy?” Eddie questions, almost seeming surprised.

“Yeah.” 

“It’s not about a guy, Dustin. Maybe try keeping your head out of my business.” You retort, jaw tensing in anger.

“But you were saying something about liking someone and how it’s not going to happen.”

“And I told you to stop listening in on me when I’m on the phone.” 

“Then what’s wrong?” Dustin questions, seeming like he genuinely wants to know which irritates you slightly. Why does he have to be so caring when you’re trying to be angry with him?

“Doesn’t matter.” you state, wanting the conversation to be over.

“Yes, it does.”

“If I wanted to tell you, Dustin, I would. Just leave it.” 

“G-guys, can we…can we get playing again?” You hear Mike stutter out and you let out a deep breath.

“Yeah. Sorry for getting off topic. Let’s play.”

“Are you going to be alright to play?” Eddie questions, looking you over, seemingly studying your body language.

He’s never seen you upset before, and he can’t help but wonder what’s going on. It’s not like you to be angry and short with others. Not when he’s always seen you as the happy, upbeat one of the group. 

Could it be a guy like Dustin suggested? Or is it just that you’re not feeling well? Either way he can’t help but want to know.

“I’ll be fine. Let’s just get this going again.” you answer, not bothering to look at anyone but rather as the table and your hands. 

“Henderson-“ Eddie starts, but you quickly cut him off, taking him by surprise at the sheer frustration coming from you.

“Do you not want me playing right now? I said I’ll be fine. Believe me, will you?” 

“Alright. Where were we?”

You let out a breath as you all slowly get back to the game, although you can feel the tenseness of the air still lingering. Attempting to ignore it, you force yourself to focus on what Eddie and everyone else is saying, hoping to god the campaign isn’t much longer.

~.~

Taking your seat at the lunch table, you feel Gareth and Jeff’s eyes on you. It’s like they’re not sure how to talk to you, almost afraid that you’re still as touchy as you were last night during the game.

“I’m not going to bite your heads off, you know.” You comment, not bothering to look up at them as you shove a forkful of food into your mouth.

“You’re sure?” Gareth questions, eyes wider than normal as he still seems cautious.

“Mhm. I just wasn’t feeling great last night.”

“Okay. You’ve just…never been like this.” He states and you know he’s not wrong. Ever since you first joined the club you’ve been quiet and almost demure, not wanting to create any issues. 

You shrug, acknowledging his statement, but leave it unanswered. There’s not really anything to say to that. Not when the entire reason for your irritation is kind of embarrassing and childish.

The two of them don’t seem to mind though, going back to talking amongst themselves as you eat in silence, waiting for everyone else to join the table.

It’s not like anything really changes once everyone is there. They all chat amongst themselves while you keep to yourself, only giving short replies when talked to. You simply eat in silence as you let yourself fall into your thoughts, not wanting to make the atmosphere tense like you had last night.

No one seems to mind, though. At least you don’t think they do. Not until Eddie slides into the empty desk next to yours in your shared study hall at the end of the day.

“Hey, Henderson.” He greets, voice lowered so as to not get yelled at by the teacher or to potentially get on your bad side.

“Hey.” 

“What’s…what’s going on lately?”

“What do y’mean?”

“You’ve been quieter than usual. Not as happy either.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about Eddie.” You mumble, not wanting to share what’s been going on.

“No? See, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Something’s bothering you.” 

“So what if there is? I’m not telling you unless I want to.” 

At your reply, Eddie simply sighs, and you can’t help but feel a little rude. It’s not like he’s done anything, it’s just your stupid thoughts and feelings getting in the way.

“Alright then. I’m not going to push for an answer. I just...I need to know that whatever it is won’t be interfering with the campaign.” 

“It won’t be. Not from here on out.”

“Here on out?”

“I’m quitting the club. Been thinking about it for a while now.” You admit, watching his face fall at your words.

“Henderson-“

“It’s y/n, Eddie.“

As the words leave your lips, the bell rings to signal that the day is finally over. Without hesitating a second, you’re up from your seat and walking away, leaving Eddie confused and scrambling to catch up to you.

“Y/n?” He calls, chasing you from the classroom and towards the doors, not caring that he needed to stop at his locker.

You see Dustin, Lucas, and Mike waiting by the trash can at the edge of the parking lot, and you sigh. You really can’t wait to get home.

“Y/n?! What’s brought this on? Why do you wanna leave the club?” Eddie calls as he continues to follow you towards the parking lot.

“You’re leaving hellfire?” Dustin questions, him and the other two boys having heard Eddie.

“Just get in the car, Dustin.”

“But you’re leaving hellfire?! You can’t just do that!” 

“Exactly! Why’re you trying to leave?” Eddie questions, panting lightly as he finally catches up to you at your car.

“I’m not trying to leave, Eddie. I am leaving. I don’t want to be a part of it anymore. Sorry.”

“No. You can’t just leave. We haven’t finished the campaign yet.”

“You’ll figure out how to continue it without me, I’m sure.”

Of course he’d just be upset about the game getting messed up and not about you actually leaving. Why would he care when he’s still got Little Henderson there? 

“I’ll return my shirt next week.” You state, moving to get into the car.

“Th-that’s not necessary. Hold onto the shirt. Keep it for memory’s sake, I mean.”

“If that’s what you want.” 

Eddie nods, watching you, seeming as if he wants to say something else but he can’t bring himself to.

“Is that everything?” You question, wanting nothing more than to leave.

“Yeah...Yeah, I guess. I’ll see you around?” 

“Yeah. See you around. Come on now, Dustin.”

“You two need rides?” You question Mike and Lucas, almost seeming to ignore Eddie as you get in the car. They shake their heads and you nod, closing your door as you wait for Dustin to do the same.

Soon as he does, you’re putting the car in reverse and backing out as you had already started it. You really didn’t want to be there any longer than you already had been.

As you pull out of the parking lot, though, you can feel Dustin wanting to ask questions, but he seems scared to anger you, so he stays quiet. His questions simply swirling around his head, instead.

~.~

“Wait, you did what now?!” Lauren questions, almost screaming into the receiver.

“I quit the club. I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.”

“But you enjoyed it.”

“I enjoyed it when I hadn’t been shoved to the background. I enjoyed it when I actually felt like a part of the club.” 

“So talk to them? You don’t just quit something because it stopped being fun.”

“I think that’s precisely what you do when a club stops being fun, Laur. Besides, it’s not like they miss me.” You huff, pulling your feet towards your body as you lay on your stomach, softly kicking them in the air.

It’s been just about a month since you quit the club, and while it saddens you a little, you’ve also felt the tiniest bit of relief. You don’t have to try so hard to keep your crush on Eddie hidden anymore. You don’t have to spend every lunch period listening to the guys talk about whatever it is they do while you sit to the side. You don’t have to feel like the outcast in the group of outcasts. 

Sure you miss playing the game, but it’s not the end of the world. You’ve found other things to keep yourself preoccupied. Mostly just listening to music and doing your homework, but you’ve found yourself picking up art as a hobby as the days dragged on, slowly starting to fill and old sketchbook you’ve had lying around.

~.~

“It’s still so weird that y/n isn’t here.” Gareth comments as the boys watch you sit at a different table once again. They don’t know why, but they keep hoping this has just been some kind of nightmare and that any day you’ll actually sit back down with them. It just doesn’t make sense why you’d leave them all so abruptly. 

“Yeah. It is.” Jeff agrees, sighing as they see a smile form on your face with a laugh falling out right after. It’s been way too long since any of them have seen you like this, and it kind of hurts.

“She still wears her shirt a lot.” Dustin informs, looking at the older boys - Eddie included - as they watch you.

“She does?” Eddie questions, the bit of knowledge somehow lifting him up a little.

He hated hearing you say you were quitting, and he hated it even more when Monday came around the week after and you didn’t sit with them. Nearly three years you had sat by his side and suddenly you weren’t there anymore. It felt beyond wrong, but he didn’t know what to do to fix it, if there even was anything that he could do.

“Yeah. She seems to wear it all the time now. I’m honestly not sure when the last time was that she didn’t wear it.”

Eddie nods, smiling lightly at the thought. He can’t help but wonder if there’s anything different he could have done to keep you from leaving. Was it something he had said? Or done? Was it just him?

“She’s been acting weird since she left. I heard her on the phone the other day-“

“You really should stop that, Dustin.” Eddie pipes up, but the younger boy doesn’t seem to hear.

“She said something about how she couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine after mentioning to her friend that she quit.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’ve never known her to pretend about anything. I don’t know what she was talking about.”

“Because then she said something about enjoying the club when she felt like a part of it? She’s always been a part of it though.” Dustin continues, frowning as he eats his food.

He may not understand what you were talking about, but Eddie has a sinking feeling that he does. He really hopes he’s wrong though. 

He doesn’t want to admit that he was giving your brother and his friends more attention than he’s ever really gave you. It’s not that they’re better than you in any way, honestly. It’s just that they’re boys. 

He’s always hesitated in giving you attention during meetings or at lunch, because he didn’t want anyone to catch onto the crush he has on you. He was afraid that if Gareth or Jeff knew he liked you, that it’d make the atmosphere awkward. 

Even by keeping you at a distance, though, the two guys picked up on Eddie’s crush. It’s not in his character to be quiet or reserved in the slightest, so when they noticed how he constrained himself in conversation with you, they knew something was up.

Still, Eddie could never allow himself to act the same way with you like he does with Gareth and Jeff, and now your brother and his friends. He wanted you to like him, so he kept himself from being sarcastic and outspoken with you. Hearing Dustin talk though, Eddie has the suspicion that his plan may have backfired.

“Your sister still picks you up from the meetings, doesn’t she?” Eddie questions, already planning out what he wants to say to you when he can get you aside for a moment.

“No. Nancy’s been dropping me off or I’ve just been riding my bike.” 

“I’ll be driving you home tonight then.” 

“O-okay?!”

Eddie chuckles lightly at Dustin’s excitement, but he never takes his eyes off of you across the cafeteria. He needs to talk to you, and he’s hoping that tonight he can do just that.

~.~

“You know it ain’t easy, running out of thrills. You know it ain’t easy when you don’t know what you want.” 

You hum, laying on your bed as you listen to the drums, guitar, and vocals of Europe fill your room.

“What do you want?” You question, mirroring the song, your foot tapping against your bedspread as you close your eyes.

“Woah-oh-oh, you want to rock now, rock the night, ‘til early in the morning light. Rock now, rock the night.”

“Woah-oh, woah-oh, yeah!” You sing, smiling lightly. 

It’s been awhile since you’ve been able to just relax and enjoy listening to your music without worrying about homework or being late to hellfire. One of the plus sides of quitting the club - you finally get time just for yourself.

Hearing a knock on your door, you hum loud enough to acknowledge whoever is at the door.

“y/n? You’ve got a visitor.” Dustin calls, gently opening your door.

“Who?” You question, sitting up on your bed, nodding as Eddie comes into view behind Dustin.

“Oh…hi.”

“Hi. I-is it alright if I come in?” He questions, pausing in your doorway.

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

As he makes his way inside, you situate yourself in your bed so you’re comfortably sitting up.

“Do you…” 

At Eddie’s voice, you look up to see him questioning you about your door, going to close it before swinging it open.

“You can close it if you want. I don’t care.” 

He nods, softly shoving the door to close it, not quite giving it enough force to close all the way so there’s a little crack left open.

“So what’re you doing here?” You question him, watching him as he looks around, seeming a bit out of place with your soft white walls and contradicting decor.

While he may fit into the plethora of rock band posters covering your walls and the many records and cassettes you’ve got laying around, he doesn’t fit in with the florals and stuffed animals you’ve got elsewhere in your room.

“I, uh, I was hoping we could talk.”

“About what?”

You can’t help but chuckle as he spots the bralette hanging out of your dresser, you having been too lazy to tuck it back in earlier, and seems to pale in horror. For seeming so confident and cocky, he sure doesn’t look it being in a girl’s room.

“You can sit, you know.” You offer, motioning to the chair you’ve got in the corner of your room.

“Yeah, okay.” He mumbles, taking a few steps over towards the chair before sitting on the edge of the seat.

You watch as he takes in your room, fidgeting with his hands and rings as he does so. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he was nervous to be here.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Uh, well, w-we really miss you being in the club. G-gareth, Jeff, and I. I mean, s-so do the younger ones, but…”

“But you three miss me more?” You question, eyebrow cocking in disbelief.

“Well, yeah…yeah.”

“Okay.” You deadpan, not sure what he wants in reply to that. It’s nice to hear that they miss you, but it doesn’t really change anything.

A brief moment passes where you watch Eddie, waiting for him to say something else. Taking in his mannerisms and body language, you can’t remember a time when Eddie’s ever looked so nervous and unsure of himself.

“D-dustin was saying you felt left out? Of the club?” Eddie clarifies, drawing up just enough courage to look at you.

“He was listening to me on the phone again, wasn’t he?” 

“Y-yeah. I tried telling him to stop, but I don’t think he heard me.” he sighs, chuckling lightly in nerves as you shake your head.

“I don’t think he’ll ever stop, if I’m honest. He’ll be traumatized one day or another I’m sure.” You laugh, shaking your head at the thought as you smile.

“It’s true though? You…you felt left out?”

“Yeah. It’s dumb, I know, but you guys took so easily to Dustin, Lucas, and Mike.”

“I get it, they’re great kids, and they play D&D…but it’s like they didn’t even have to try to fit into the group.” You sigh, knowing it’s about time you share at least part of the problem.

“No. No, it’s not dumb. I’m sorry we made you - I made you - feel that way.” Eddie sighs, catching your line of sight in his, wanting you to realize how sincere he’s being.

He never wanted to make you feel left out, it’s just his stupid feelings that got in the way.

“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter anymore, anyways.” 

“It does matter, though. We’d - I’d - really like you to join the group again. It’s not the same without you there, y/n.”

“I’m sorry. I just, I really don’t think joining again would be good, though.” You admit, knowing that if you joined again you’d still just be upset that nothing will ever come from your crush on him.

“How come? I-is there something else that’s been bothering you about the club? I want you to feel welcome.”

“No. No, It’s nothing about the club, Eddie. There’s just a lot of things going on personally that’d make it hard.”

“That guy issue?”

“What?”

“Is it anything to do with that guy issue Dustin mentioned?” Eddie questions, and you can’t help but gawk at him.

“Does he not like you playing or something?”

“What? No.” you answer, shaking your head incredulously, wondering how Eddie got it into his head that you’d ever be wanted by someone. Has he never actually watched how other guys interact with you?

“Then what is it? Why won’t you come back to the club?”

“It doesn’t matter. I just...can’t. It’s better if I let you guys enjoy it yourselves.”

“It’s not better, though. We all want you back, y/n.”

“I’m sorry.” You sigh, not knowing what else you can say. 

A moment passes where neither of you say anything and you start to think that maybe you’re done talking. Before you can say anything of the sort though, Eddie’s asking a question.

“Tell me, is there anything I can do? Anything that would make you want to come back?”

“No…no, there’s nothing you could do, eddie, I promise y-“

“There must be.” He argues, wanting nothing more than to find something he can do to get you to come back. 

He misses you more than he thought possible, and he just needs there to be something - anything - he can do.

“There’s not, though.”

“How come?”

“What?”

“How come there’s nothing I can do? Are you just that dead set on not coming back? Even though we all miss you?”

“If I could, trust me that I would join the group again. I just, I can’t right now, Eddie. I’m sor-“

“Why can’t you?”

“Because…because of you.” You sigh, fed up with him pushing for an answer.

“Me?”

“You, Eddie. I can’t come back because of you. Because if I did then I’d just get all upset again because my heart is dumb and doesn’t know how to listen.” 

“What do you mean?”

You sigh, taking a deep breath as you look at him. You can’t seriously be getting ready to tell him this, but you are. You don’t see any other option right now.

“I like you, Eddie.” You sigh, fidgeting with your fingers.

“I like you, but you don’t like me. I mean, it’s obvious between you never talking to me or looking at me and how you’ve always called me Hender-“

You gasp, moaning lightly as you get cut off by a pair of lips on yours. Eddie was kissing you to shut you up.

At the realization you can’t help but panic, not understanding why he’d do this when he doesn’t like you. 

“Eddie!” 

“Fuck! I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just, you were rambling and saying I didn’t like you but I do! I do. I like y-“

It’s his turn to gasp and groan into the kiss as you pull him to your lips, one hand tightly grasped in the front of his shirt while the other drapes around his shoulders, holding him close to you.

As he realizes what’s happening, he relaxes into the kiss, his one hand coming up to caress your cheek as the other holds himself up on the bed.

It’s not until you’re both out of breath and gasping for air do you actually pull away from each other, your hand relaxing against his chest as he lowers his from your cheek.

“Woah.” He sighs, trying to catch his breath as he chuckles lightly, studying your face.

“Yeah.” You murmur, ghosting your fingers over your lips as if trying to remember if that actually just happened.

“Uhm, so I like you. If-if that wasn’t obvious.” He stutters and you chuckle, smiling at the curly-haired dork.

“I like you too.”

“I’m sorry I pushed you away. Made you feel left out when I was just too nervous to admit I liked you.”

“I’m sorry I got all moody and quit the club because I was jealous of my brother instead of just telling you how I felt.”

“So…does this mean you’ll come back?” He asks, hopeful, as he kneels in front of you.

“You’ll stop treating me differently?”

“Mhm. Trust me when I say there’ll be no pushing you away after that.” 

“Mm. Don’t be treating me specially either just because we kissed.” you lightly chuckle, cocking a brow as you chew on your lip to hold back the smile wanting to light up your face.

“Can I treat you differently if I ask you to be my girlfriend?” he questions, a wide, goofy smile filling his face as he looks at you.

A smile grows on your face at his sheer happiness, drawing a light chuckle from you as you reply to his question.

“Not during game play. We don’t wanna be unfair to the guys, do we?”

“Mm, you’re right. If I promise to not treat you specially during gameplay then will you be my girlfriend?” he asks, really wanting to hear you say yes. He’s only liked you for nearly three years, frequently imagining you as his girlfriend the entire time.

“I would really love for you to be my girlfriend, and I your boyfriend. It just. It sounds really nice.” 

“You ramble a lot. You know that?” You giggle, tucking some hair behind his ear as a blush dusts over his cheeks.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Sometimes.” You smile, biting your lip to keep from kissing him again.

“So…?”

“If you promise not to treat me specially during the game, then I’d love to be your girlfriend, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” He questions, as if he doesn’t believe that you’d agree.

“Yeah.”

With the word out of your mouth, his lips find yours again, pulling a chuckle from your body as he slowly lowers himself on top of you, pinning you against your mattress as he kisses you, one hand cupping your cheek as the other rests on your waist.

“Did you-ew!” You hear Dustin call from your doorway, fake gagging as he sees Eddie on top of you, effectively startling the man back into kneeling at the end of your bed.

“Did we what, dustin?” You ask, leaning around Eddie’s body to look at your brother still standing at your doorway, one hand plastered over his eyes.

“I wanted to see if you two had figured things out, but it seems like you did.”

“Yeah, we did, little henderson. Your sister is coming back to the club.” Eddie shares, smiling at you as he situates himself on the bed beside you, Dustin uncovering his eyes in excitement at the exact same time.

“Can you please get off of my sister?” he begs, shielding his eyes again as eddie places a soft kiss to your lips in his own happiness of you coming back to the club.

“But I like being close to my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?! You’re dating my sister?!” Dustin exclaims, a look of pure shock and disgust on his face.

“Is there a problem with it, Dustin?” You question, watching your brother almost seeming to pout.

“I guess not. Just…don’t be gross when I’m around. Please?”

“We’ll try not to be.” Eddie states, smiling at you as Dustin nods, giving a small okay before leaving the two of you alone.

As the door closes, Eddie’s looking back at you, both of you chuckling.

“Guess you were right in saying he’d be traumatized one day.” He chuckles, leaning down to give you another kiss, never realizing just how amazing it’d feel to have your lips on his.

You can’t help but smile into it, enjoying the feel of his body on yours. You’ve only been imaging this moment for nearly four years. You’ve got to say that nothing you imagined could ever live up to the reality, though. Kissing Eddie is like a little slice of heaven, you swear.

It certainly took you long enough to get here, but now that you’re here, you don’t ever want to go back.

pls like & reblog the fic if you enjoyed it! 

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#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #st fanfic #stranger things angst #st angst #stranger things fluff #st fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff

[barcaatthemoon]

sunny || alexia putellas x reader ||

alexia thinks it's going to be a bad game until she spots you.

alexia's fists were balled up at her sides as she stood in the tunnel. she was desperately trying not to become overwhelmed with frustration. she had spoken with jona at great length about this being her first full 90 back. she felt good all week at practice, but during the warm ups, things took a bad turn.

nothing connected for alexia. her passes felt sloppy, and all the confirmation she needed was the look on her training partner's face. every move that alexia made felt awkward and uncomfortable. a part of her questioned whether she should start at all, but she had to. even if your work meeting ran over, you'd want to tune into the game and see her play. alexia wanted to do this for you.

the two of you had gotten together just after the world cup. you had seen alexia play before, but not really as her girlfriend. alexia wanted the chance to impress you, even if she thought that you couldn't actually come to today's game. she knew that you'd be watching her no matter what, so she absolutely had to play well for you.

"hey ale, isn't that your girl?" sandra teased as she pointed towards the stands. alexia's eyes followed the direction of sandra's finger until she saw you sitting next to her mother. alba sat on your other side, looking bored as the two of you chatted.

"that's her." alexia smiled as she watched the interaction. alba nudged you, interrupting your conversation to point out that alexia was staring. you looked over at her and waved excitedly, just like you always did. alexia waved back at you, hopeful that the heat she felt coming up to her cheeks wasn't visible.

it was silly, but alexia swore that she felt immediately better after you had smiled at her. she had been fully prepared to go into the game feeling awkward and a little uncomfortable, but now she didn't have to. alexia's movements were much more fluid, allowing for her to get a brace within the first half of the game.

barcelona was always a dominant team, and you had always seen alexia as their best player. today, she was proving everybody who had doubted her because of the injury wrong. you were standing and screaming in the stands cheering her on. by the end of the 90 minute game, you were absolutely exhausted as if you had played alongside your girlfriend.

"i think it is safe to say that la reina is back," patri teased as she slung her arm around alexia's shoulders. she glanced over at the stands where you were following alexia's mother as you and alba spoke to each other. alexia tried to shove patri away, but claudia and jana were right there to replace her.

"hmm, i seem to remember somebody very grumpy about today's game earlier." jana tapped her chin as she pretended to think about something. "i wonder what could have changed?"

"guys," alexia warned. her warning fell on deaf ears, but alexia couldn't bring herself to be genuinely mad with them. they were like her children, and you never did let alexia get too hard on them.

"i thought i saw a certain artist in the stands chatting with the better putellas," claudia teased. alexia did swat at the girl for the joke about alba being better. claudia winced and made a show of rubbing her arm, knowing that you were looking at her.

"stop being such a baby, it didn't hurt that badly," alexia grumbled. still, claudia held the pout until the group reached the barrier. alexia realized a second too late when she saw you dart towards claudia instead of her what had happened.

"ale, you can't just hit her. babe, i know you think you're being playful, but you are a lot stronger than you know," you scolded her lightly. alexia rolled her eyes as she shoved claudia away before she could get a hug from you. alexia put herself directly into your arms, squeezing you tight and lifting you into the air as she hugged you. "good game today, i've missed seeing you on the field."

"my little good luck charm," alexia mumbled. behind her, you caught claudia and patri mocking the two of you.

"behave, children," you warned. this time, they both jumped apart and stood still. alexia didn't understand how you could do that, but she was glad that you were around to do so. "go shower and get changed, i was thinking that we could go out to eat?"

"that sounds perfect," alexia hummed. you gave her a moment with her family as you gathered up your things. you waited inside for alexia, not wanting to risk getting a sunburn or heat sickness any more than you already had.

"does it hurt?" mapi asked as she slung her arm around alexia's shoulder. for a moment, alexia was genuinely touched that her friend was concerned about the wellbeing of her knee, but that only lasted a couple of seconds. "is the whip that (y/n) uses gentle?"

"shut up," alexia grumbled.

"no, come on. i saw you staring at her all game. i'm surprised you managed to get a touch on the ball with such a big distraction. you stare at her like an idiot stares at the sun." as if alexia needed an example, mapi turned and stared up at the lights with her mouth wide open.

"i was not staring like that, nor was i saring at all. if anything, i took brief pauses to admire (y/n) after i scored or got an assist. if she's willing to take time out of her busy schedue to support me, the least i can do is score for her," alexia reasoned. mapi thought it was all bullshit; sweet, sappy, romantic bullshit.

"whatever, just make sure she keeps coming if you're gonna play like that when she's here."

"trust me, i will," alexia promised. she wanted you at every single one of her games, club and international. if she made it to another world cup, she wanted you to be waiting for a kiss after they won it.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

[hoe4sports]

Caroline Graham Hansen | When an accident occurs

A/N: Enjoy this little treat of mine. Caroline Graham´s wife is injured during a match and won't wake up again.

Triggers: Medical trauma, birth, angstttt -Day 64-

“Mrs. Graham, what I’m trying to say is that talking to her might help. Holding her hand might help. Patients like her often recall hearing their loved ones talking to them. She’s gonna have to have the fight of her life, and she needs you to fight with her. The baby needs to hear someone’s voice and feel someone’s touch. ” The doctor said as he looked over at me. We were sitting in one of the uncomfortable meeting rooms that was in connection to the intensive care unit. The unit that I had previously not had any relations to. The unit that now had my two most important things within their walls. Leaving me to be able to do nothing but to trust the doctors and nurses. I didn’t even know what to do without her. It had already been two months since the incident. The incident were she was tackled mid game by Lauren James causing her to go head first into the pole of the goal leaving her body lifeless on the ground for several minutes while the medical staff evacuated her. She was only four months pregnant when this happened. It was one of her last games. I had begged her to not play, but she told me to trust her. That everything would be okay and over within 90 minutes. The only issue was that after 25 minutes had passed, my life changed forever. This wasn’t according to plan at all. We were supposed to be in Norway, on our honeymoon before going back to Barcelona to give birth. Instead we were here, stuck in the coldness of the intense care unit. “That’s everything for now Mrs.Graham.” The doctor finished as he closed his binder. “Thank you Doctor” I muttered as I got up from the chair while the tears was burning in my eyes. I walked across the hall, to the right and then to room 4114.

-Day 68-

I walked into the doors of the icu. The nurses giving me apologetic smiles. I didn’t smile back or say anything. I couldn’t. My life had changed forever, and for every day that passed it felt like she was disappearing more and more into her own brain. Room 4114. I knocked on the door as if I was expecting her to open the door for me and ask me to sit. Her nurse welcomed me in, and I sat down in my usual chair next to my wife. She looked so peaceful. As if nothing had ever happened. Like she had slept in like she usually would on Sunday mornings. I don’t know how she still looked so beautiful. The nurse looked at me and smiled. “Today marks the start of week 29.” I was confused as I couldn’t understand what she meant. I shot her a confused look. “Your wife is now 29 weeks pregnant. She’s well today. Her bloodwork came back clear and her vitals are textbook perfect.” The nurse said as she stroke my wife’s hair. Always so perfect. The perfect girlfriend, the perfect wife, the perfect teammate and somehow even perfect in coma. “I’ll leave you alone now, I’m right outside if anything were to happens. Don’t hesitate to push the call button if I can do anything for you mrs. Graham.” She said as she disappeared around the corner of the room. I looked back at my perfect wife, and scooted my chair closer to the bed. “Kjeks is missing you. He sleeps on your side of the bed every night. He meows in the mornings as he walks around confused.” I started as I had to shift my gaze to not have a breakdown. “God, baby, I miss you. I am so lost without you.” I said as I grabbed her hand. I was terrified to break her, and I was scared that she was hurt. But the doctor said that I needed to do this, and I would do whatever it took to get her back. I slipped my hand under her blanket as I rested my hand on her belly. I could feel the baby kick. The feeling leaving me broken inside. “You would’ve loved to feel her kicks. She’s active. She loves to kick. The nurses says she might be a footballer. But i just want her to be alive.” I said as I paused. “Because if she dosent live, and you won’t live. Then I’m not sure I wanna live either.” I whispered as a tear rolled down my cheek. 

-Day 80-

The doctor’s was sitting infront of me awaiting my decision. “If you need more time, mrs.Graham, we will respect your wishes and give you more time.” The doctor said with a Spanish like accent. The kind of accent I could recall her make when she made fun of Alexia’s terrible English. “Do it” I said sternly as I got up and walked out of the room. I made my way back the my wife’s room and sat down next to her. “I don’t know how to do this without you. But they need to get the baby out, and they say it’s to give you a better chance.” I swallowed. “But, I can’t help but wonder   If they are taking her out so that they can say that they atleast saved one of you. But I would rather have you than the baby.” I said as I trailed off feeling the familiar burning sensation in my eyes. I grabbed her hand and kissed where she had tan lines from her wedding ring. “And don’t worry, kjære. Im not giving up on you. I have your ring with me everywhere just in case you wake up.” I said as I rubbed her hand.  “I wish you could make this decision about the baby with me. I don’t know how to parent or how to be a mom. Please, please, please. Wake up kjære, wake up.» i said, but to no use. I was cut off as the doctors walked in ready to take our baby out. As if my wife was just some kind of incubator. Just a lifeline for the baby. But to me, she’s my wife. She’s everything. I can’t have this baby without her.

-Day 90-

I sat in the chair next to the doctors dissociating as they talked on about the usual stuff. How her night had been, how her body was handling and what they wanted to do moving forwards. They were going on about possible long term effects of the coma, but also talking about how her brain finally had gone down to normal size after being swollen for months. They were ramming about things like the baby, who was allowed to see my wife and that they was gonna try to wake her up today. They were also talking about how they had kept the baby next to her to give the baby time to feel her.

«Sorry, waking her up?” I asked as I snapped out of my own thoughts. “Like as in getting her out of the coma?” I repeated as I couldn’t believe my own two ears. “Yes, Mrs.Graham, we believe that we will be able to wake her up this time. Everything is coming back clear and the  scans of her brain shows no further injuries as it has come down to normal size.” The doctor said while smiling at me. I was confused. Waking her up? That would mean she would be in pain, confused or even have memory loss. I don’t know what scares me the most; the thought of her waking up to her memory being gone, or her never waking up. “We know this is a lot to handle, but we are feeling optimistic. You are encouraged to be in the room when she wakes up. That’s all for now, mrs.Graham.” He said as the team of doctors stood up. I couldn’t stand yet. I was just sitting in the chair I had sat in every morning from 9-9.15 for 90 days. 

I was ripped out of my chain of thoughts as a nurse tapped my shoulder with our baby in her hands. “She has been fed and changed. I think she might want her mom.” The nurse smiled as she cooed down towards the newborn, our newborn. She was surprisingly well for having been born so early. The oxygen was only needed for the first 48 hours after birth. I had a strained relationship with the baby. Benedicte had always wanted to be the first to hold her, and it tore me to pieces that she couldn’t. I had hold her a couple of times, but I didn’t wanna bond with her yet. I couldn’t, how could I when her mother, my wife was laying in a bed with tubes everywhere?

I was lead into her room again. 4114 as the nurse pushed me down in a chair, and put a pillow underneath my arm. She reached the baby towards me, and I reached my hands towards the baby. I carefully placed the baby in my lap. The nurse slipped out of the room, like she always would. “Hei lillevenn» i said as she grabbed my finger and cooed. Her little tiny hand was wrapped around my finger as if I was the only thing keeping her alive. I hadn’t really done anything to keep her alive. The nurses had been feeding her, changing her and bathing her. Soothing her when she needed soothing and giving her cuddles all day. «Mamma is gonna wake up soon, and then we can be a family like we were supposed to.” I said softly as I felt like an elephant had sat on my chest. “I’m sorry that I haven’t cared for you. Your mamma will be mad at me for it, but you see. I can’t live without your mamma. She is my everything.”‘I said as a tear escaped my eye. She started fussing which caused me to stress. I picked her up and put her towards my chest as I got up from the chair and reached towards the call button. I sighted as I stopped myself from letting the nurses have her.

“Shh, I don’t know how to do this lillevenn, but I’ll try my best” I said as I slowly started bouncing her carefully while I walked around the room while the machines monitoring Benedicte was beeping in a comforting matter. "Yea, that's it skatten min, you are safe, its okay, mom has got you" I said as she started to settle down. I looked down on Benedicte who was whining. She would makes sounds from time to time especially when the baby cried, so it wasn't abnormal. "I know baby, its okay, I'm taking care of her" I said as I tucked some of her hair behind her beautifully braided blonde hair while I kept rocking back and forward. The baby kept crying as a doctor and a nurse entered the room. "Just here to perform the usual checks" he said as he shot me an apologetic smile. "yea, go ahead" I said as if I had any right to decided what were to happen. I slipped outside of the room as she kept crying in a desperate attempt to calm her.

Her stroller stood just outside of her mothers room. I laid her down in the stroller which made her look even tinier. I then started slowly pushing the stroller, the stroller that my wife had picked out. It was a cyber e-praim. Benedicte had been eyeing the stroller for months, but had decided that it was too expensive. That's why I had left practice early one day blaming an injuring in my calf for needing physio. I had went straight to the shop were she had eyed the stroller down and purchased it before I brought it home and set it up for her. I remember how happy she was when she saw it when she got home before she had gasped thinking of the price. I didn't care about prices or money because no amount of money would ever repay the love and patience that she had given me. "Mrs.Graham" I voice said from the door of Benedicte´s room. I was down the hallway with the baby that had just fallen asleep in the stroller. "Yes, what's wrong?" I asked scared to death about what had happened. Last time they called me in like this, they had to have emergency surgery. The nurse smiled as I got closer to her as she nodded her head towards the inside of the room. "Your wife, she's awake" she said as I stopped in my tracks while feeling pure horror running wild in my veins. "Sorry?" I asked as I blinked hard to make sure that I wasn't dreaming. "Your wife is awake, and she's asking for you." she repeated as I looked between the blinds of the room. "Can I-" I started before I could hear my wife talking. "Is she here? Can I call her?" she said as she hadn't noticed me with a worried tone in her voice. God knows that I wasn't deserving of this woman. Even after being in a coma, she wasn't worried about her, but about me. "Yes mrs. Graham, you can see her"

"Skatt, i am so sorr-" she said as I walked towards her and cut her off. "Shh" I said as I sat down next to her legs on the mattress of the bed and pulled her head into my chest. "Everything is stable, so we will give you two a minute" the doctor said as I just nodded in response while my tears were streaming down my face. "Its not your fault, prinsesse. You couldn't have predicted this." I said as I held her tight and didn't wanna let her go ever again. I didn't know how I was supposed to ever let her out of my sight ever again. Her hand rested on my back as I could feel her left hand reaching for her previous baby bump. She pulled away with a look of horror on her face. "The baby" she whispered as tears were forming in her eyes. "Jenta mi, the baby is no-" I started as she cut me off. "no, god no, please don't say it, Caz. I don't wanna hear it." she said as she threw herself onto me. I rubbed her back and leaned down towards her ear. "The baby is in the stroller napping." Her head shoot up and her eyes widened. "She's here? She made it? She's okay? living?" she said as tears once against formed in her eyes. "Do you want me to get her?" I asked as she nodded rapidly with her hand on her belly while the other hand was over her mouth. 

I walked out and stopped the stroller from rocking back and forth. She was in a hospital body, which I instantly regretted as I wished I had brought her clothes to the hospital. The wheels of the stroller rolled soundlessly into the hospital room, and I stopped her next to her bed. Benedicte instantly tried to get up, but I stopped her. "Let me get her for you, prinsesse. Your body isn't strong enough yet." I mumbled as I reached down for our girl and placed her on my wife's chest. God, this was the first time I had realized just how beautiful our daughter was. She had Benedicte´s eyes, her lips was just like her mothers, a cute button nose and lots of blonde hair. Benedicte couldn't stop staring at the little bundle of joy as her tears were steaming down her face. My hand touched Benedicte´s hair, stroking it carefully as I admired the pair. I couldn't believe it, my wife was here. For a second, I was filled with horror: what if this was all a dream?

"Caz, she is perfect" Benedicte cooed as she changed the position of the baby from her chest to her arms. "She's so beautiful" she spoke, and I instantly felt sick. I hadn't paid any attention to the baby as I was worried sick about Benedicte. I should've formed a bond with her, protected her and held her everyday. The baby probably thought that she had nobody on her side. "Caz, baby, when was she born? How? What was her weight and length?" she asked, not removing her eyes from the precious angel. "Uhm, She was born 10 days ago by c section because she was making you weaker by the hour." I said as I rubbed my neck and got my phone up from my pocket. I went into notes, where I had written everything down. One file for Benedicte and one for the baby. "She was just shy of 1100 grams and about 14 inches" I said as I popped my phone back into my pocket. "Look at mommy, she's already taking notes about you, lillevenn. That's what she is like, she is always attentive to details. You couldn’t have gotten a better mom even if you wanted to." she said to the baby as she kissed her forehead. "Hello Mrs. Graham, its truly a joy to see you awake." the doctor said as he walked into the room. "Im gonna have to ask you to do some test, which requires that the baby has to stay with mrs. Graham." Benedicte frowned. "I know that its not the one thing you wish to be doing, but we need to do mapping of your brain function. " the doctor explained as Benedicte reluctantly nodded. "Here, go to mommy, she will take care of you and then mamma will be right back" she whispered into the baby's ear before handing me the baby.

-Day 97-

I was walking up to the hospital with a bag in my hand. This time, I was bringing both my girls home. The team had been supportive and granted me the week off to help my wife become comfortable, and settle us into the new daily life. In my bag I had brought the clothes that Benedicte had picked out from the hospital for the baby and for herself. She hadn't really worn anything besides hospital clothes for a long time, so I was nervous about how she would handle it. Before I could see her, I talked to her doctors who explained that she was cleared to go, but that she might be sensitive to feelings for the first few weeks because she had suffered severe trauma.

"Hei jenta mi, ready to go home?" I asked as I stood in the doorway watching her cuddle with our baby. She shot her head up when she heard me and smiled. "Caz, yes! Im so excited!" she squealed as she sat herself up in the bed. She seemed stronger every day, but she wouldn't be able to go back to work for 12 weeks. It didnt seem to bother her. I handed her the bag and she put the baby down in the stroller. "Im gonna go get changed and have a shower. Will you get Celine changed?" she asked as she pressed a kiss to my cheek while skipping to the bathroom. I gulped. My relationship with little Celine wasn't really strong yet and I was terrified to hurt her.

I took out the outfit Benedicte had planned. A long sleeve pink onesie with ruffles around the neck, white tights and a soft pink dress. It was warm outside so it made sense to not dress her up too much. I carefully took the clothes off the baby and she immediately started fussing when the cool air touched her skin. "Shh, Celine, I know, Mommy is gonna be quick, okay?" I said as I wrestled the clothes on her. She was tiny, but lord knows she was strong. After 10 mins of getting her dressed and 10 mins of putting all of their belongings into the nike bag, Benedicte came out. Her appearance knocked the air out of me. It felt like the first time I saw her. She was having her long blonde hair down, light makeup, she was wearing my Barca nike pants with my number on it and a white nike tshirt. "What? do I have a bug in my face or something?" she said as she giggled. "Baby, its so refreshing to hear you talk and giggle again. I have missed you so much. You are so beautiful, skatt." I said as I embraced her.

"Alright, and here is the papers. Bring them with you to the doctor for the 2 month check up. Everything has been sorted." the nurse said as we stood by our car with the baby carefully strapped into the carseat and Benedicte sitting at the front with the door open. "Thank you" I said "for everything, really." I finished as I grabbed the paper. The nurse hugged Benedicte before going to the back of the car and poking Celine´s cheeks. She closed the doors and waved goodbye. I jumped into the car, and turned the car on. The summer breeze was in the air and the Barcelona sun was settling down. "Let´s go home, skatt. Let´s start our new life." I said as I squeezed her hand. She smiled and looked at me. "Let´s go home, Caz" as she kissed my cheek.

#woso imagine #caroline graham hansen #caroline graham hansen imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics

[gwennybriggs]

After All This Time

Can’t keep my mind focused on the last chapter of Pick and Choose (surprise surprise lol) so enjoy this tidbit. :)

Wc: 1.6k

Melissa Schemmenti x fem reader

Summary: Many years after the first time she asked, you’re finally able to give Melissa the answer she’s waited her entire life for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Melissa sat at the breakfast table with a plate of toast, bacon, and eggs; she smiled up at you as you placed a hot cup of coffee in front of her and took your own seat. She looked out the window to your backyard to watch your adult children play soccer with your husband. You watched as the corners of her eyes crinkled with silent laughter, taking in every detail of her face like it was the last time you’d ever see her again.

Every year, Melissa spent a week of her summer break visiting you and your family in Maine. You were childhood best friends, you went to college together, she fell in love with you and you turned her down to be with your now husband. But even after you broke her heart, she stuck around. Melissa was a bridesmaid at your wedding, and earned the title of ‘aunt’ when your twins were born. She was there for every birthday and holiday, every cheer competition and weekend soccer game, she was even there to make soup and clean waste baskets when the whole family caught the flu one summer break. In turn, you were there for her marriage to Joe and their eventual divorce. You helped her get back into the dating world just to watch her give up and resign herself to a life alone, claiming that having your family to spend time with was enough for her.

“My God, when did they grow up?” The redhead let out a watery laugh as Melanie tackled Ethan to the ground and wiped a tear from her cheek.

“I ask myself that every day. It seems like just yesterday we were planning their baby shower, now they’ve graduated college and are spending their last summer at home before they move away for their big kid jobs,” you said with a wistful sigh.

Melissa glanced at you with sorrow in her eyes and drifted into her own thoughts. Silence filled the air again as you both nibbled at your breakfasts and stared out the window. She wanted so badly for this to be her reality: to wake up every day for breakfast with you, for those two knuckleheads of yours to be her own too, to experience all the little domestic moments in life with you. All of it.

As far as she knew, you never thought about the day she asked you to run away with her in college. You never spoke with her about it after you let her down (except for that one drunken time she asked again at your bachelorette party, but she forgot about that the next day), you just kept going through life as if it never happened. Really, you thought about it every day. Back then your parents controlled every aspect of your life: which college you went to, what you majored in, what you wore, who you were friends with, and even who you dated. They were strict and if they even had an inkling that you were into women they would have pulled back from your life completely, leaving you with nothing and no one. You were scared of losing everything you ever knew, so despite wanting nothing more than to take Melissa’s hand and be hers forever, you married the man they wanted you to and kept your true feelings bottled deep within.

Slowly, you reached for the hand she had wrapped around her mug and held it in yours. She tore her eyes away from the game outside to look at you in shock; you hadn’t held her hand since your wedding day. You leaned across the table and placed a gentle kiss to her lips.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, hand remaining in yours. “Y/N?”

“Ask me again.” You half whispered.

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“What you asked me all those years ago.” You squeezed her hand, your eyes glossy with unshed tears. “Ask. Me. Again.”

Her eyes fell to the napkin on her lap. “I can’t take that heartbreak again, hon. Plus, you have Mike and the kids, it wouldn’t be fair to them. You’ve got a happy family now, you don’t wanna lose that.”

“We’re not as happy as we seem, Red. Besides, Mike‘s always known. You’ve been the one for me since before I could put words to feelings.” You squeezed her hand again, a quiet plea for her to look at you. This time she squeezed back but she still couldn’t bring herself to look up.

She was silent for a moment before she spoke again. “Your mother would kill you.”

You chuckled, “I’m fifty somethin’ years old, it’s past time I cut those apron strings. What’s she gonna do? Take away my inheritance? She’s used most of it to spoil her grandkids anyway.” You lifted her chin to look at you. Your tone turned back to serious. “The kids know too. They won’t tell me they know, but they do. Ethan overheard me talking to Mike a few months ago about the divorce, I heard him run down the hall to tell Melanie. They’re adults now, I think they understand why and how things change.” Your voice caught in your throat, “We’ve known for many years that this marriage would end as soon as the kids were outta the house. Mike and I have talked about it a hundred times. We promised each other that we’d play ‘happy family’ until we knew the twins would be alright. This is our last ‘normal’ week before we sign the papers and our not-so-baby birds leave the nest.”

Mel wiped away the tears that spilled down your cheeks and you gave her a small smile. You’d loved her your whole life, and after everything you’d been through together you never thought you’d feel like you could lose her until that moment. You were so scared she’d walk away, that all those feelings from years ago had been washed away with time.

“Ask me, Mel. Please?”

She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the kitchen door swinging open and the twins bounding in to brag about their win against their dad. Mike made his way upstairs to shower without a word. Melanie hopped into Melissa’s lap, earning an ‘oof’ from her, and wrapped an arm around her neck. Melissa had always been her favorite person and you were okay with that, after all she was named after her.

“Aunt Mel, wanna go get ice cream with us to celebrate dad’s defeat?” Your daughter played with the bracelets on Melissa’s wrist, waiting for an answer.

“It’s like 10:30, isn’t it a little early for ice cream, Mini Mel,” the redhead laughed and your daughter’s nose scrunched.

“Damn, what happened to you being the cool mom,” Ethan asked as he stole the last slice of her bacon from her plate. “C’mon, I’m buying!”

Melissa’s smile faltered at the word ‘mom’ but she quickly fixed it, “Next time lead with that, kid. Go start the car, I’ll be there in a second.” She dug into her purse and tossed the keys to your son. Ethan beamed and Melanie raced him out the front door, fighting over who got to ride shotgun. Once everyone was out of the room, she directed her attention back to you.

“Just ask, I promise I won’t hurt you again. I wanna grow old with you and sit in recliners complaining about the price of eggs and milk. I want to spend the rest of my life in your arms. Please, baby.”

She sighed and screwed her eyes shut. You only called her baby when you were drunk. Hearing it come from your sober lips caused her heart to ache. She wanted it, a future with you, with her whole being. “You can’t drop everything for me, Y/N.”

“You’ve dropped everything for me our whole lives, it’s my turn. I’ll go anywhere, do anything, as long as it’s with you. I’m sorry it’s taken me thirty years to get here, but I’m here if you’ll have me. I’d get on my knees to beg, but I’m afraid I’d need you to pick me up.”

Melissa fought tears. “I’ll always pick you up when you’re down, hon, you know that.” She rubbed her eyes, fluffed her hair, and took a deep breath. “After Tweedle Dee and Dum eat their weight in ice cream we’ll talk. I want this, but there’s a lot of emotions that I don’t know how to deal with right this second.”

She began to walk away but you caught her elbow and turned her around. “We’ll talk later, but I still need you to ask.”

You looked deep into her eyes, love and longing swimming around in the pools of green. “Y/N, will you runaway with me and be mine for the rest of our days,” she choked out.

“Only if you promise to always be mine in return,” you teased.

“As if I’ve ever been anyone else’s.” She rolled her eyes and smiled gently.

You kissed her deeply, letting her know how much you truly loved her. Melissa’s hand tangled in your hair, holding you in place. Your whole body burned for her, just as hers did for you. She was the first to release from the kiss and you pouted at the loss of contact. She started walking backwards towards the door to join the twins, a grin on her face so wide you could see all of her pearly whites.

“Forever starts soon, better start packin’ doll.”

You bit your lip and waved as she turned around to leave, muttering an ‘I love you, be safe’ after you heard your kids yell for Melissa to hurry up. Before she was completely out the door she turned her head over her shoulder, “I love you, too. Always have, always will.”

#melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x reader #fluff #angst #Aunt Melissa

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for trying to play matchmaker? for context, this all happened months ago but is coming back now. about halfway through my (18F) senior year of high school, my friend L (also 18F) started crushing on a boy she sat with in math class (18M). she only admitted it to me and the rest of our friend group after we begged her to tell us who she liked for weeks, but in hindsight, it was sort of obvious she really likes him. i have a lot of candid pics on my phone of her glancing over at him during class when she wasn't paying attention but that's beside the point. she wasn't making any moves at all to let him know how she felt and start going out with him, so after a while, we decided to give her a little push. we encouraged her, made subtle hints towards him that someone in class had a crush on him, and when that still wasn't enough, i wrote a love letter for her to sign and give to him. it was easy. prom was a couple of months away by that point and if she was going to struggle so hard to find the words, it made sense for her to just give him a note telling him what she wanted to say. but still, L was stubborn and continued to claim that she wasn't interested in dating at all. apparently she didn't like him *that* much and she was happy just being friends with him (not very convincing when she was constantly making googly eyes at him). she's always been shy, though, and if she doesn't get out of her shell, she's never going to survive in college. for more motivation, i gave her a time limit: if she didn't sign her love letter and give it to him within two weeks, i was going to go up to him and tell him that she liked him. the time game and on the final day, she told me she did it. i trusted her even though she was acting suspicious (barely speaking to him, practically running out of the class they shared together that day, avoiding the friend group for most of the day) but i found out after talking to him later that she lied to me and actually threw the note away. when i confronted her the next day, she apologized and told me that she was terrified i would actually tell him about her crush (i was joking about that, and it hurt that she didn't trust me). out of spite, she ended up asking out one of her childhood friends to prom as her platonic date just so she could say "oh no, sorry, but i already have a date" whenever we tried to help her get with her crush in the future. prom and graduation passed, and the two of them haven't talked much since. i thought this whole situation was over with, but recently, L has been avoiding all of us and makes excuses to not hang out with us. we only have so much time together before she moves out of state for college, so i got a mutual friend to check on her and see what's up. apparently, L's still holding a grudge about how we tried to set her up with the boy. she claims that she was so stressed out for all of senior year that she started getting constant nightmares because of us, and she's upset we never respected her boundaries. however, i think that she's overexaggerating. if it was that serious, she knows that she can always just talk to us instead of keeping it all in so she can make me out to be the bad guy to other people. besides, we were doing what was best for her. he was the first guy she's ever had a crush on, and L has a history of letting her shyness get the better of her. i didn't want her to miss out on this opportunity to be happy, and if she just took our advice instead of acting childish, i'm sure she would have thanked us. i reached out to tell her i'm sorry if she thought i was being too pushy, but it's been days and she still hasn't replied to me. aita?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[mrsstarkey1]

dress - drew starkey

SUMMARY: requested by @willowpains - a fic with drew based on the song ‘dress’ by taylor swift

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

WARNINGS: none

You weren't sure when this thing between you and Drew even started. You couldn't even describe what it was.

All you knew was how you felt when you looked at him. What he could do to you with a simple glance. It was getting out of hand, you’d both admit that. You couldn't even be in the same room together anymore without giving each other the infamous "let's get out of here" look.

It was a miracle no one had noticed, especially your cast mates. It was almost comical actually, that they hadn't. You knew they were clueless simply because if they knew, they would never leave you two alone about it. Madeline in particular, would have a field day with the information.

Maybe it made sense that no one suspected it, because admittedly you and Drew were an unexpected pairing. You were as different as two people could be, at least from an outside perspective. You'd always appeared to the media as innocent, shy, reserved, in other words - completely opposite of Drew Starkey.

You never would have thought you could feel this way about him, about anyone, actually. The moment you saw him though, you realized just how insanely wrong you were. You were an added character for season three of Outer Banks, and Drew had been the first person you met on set. One singular look at him; dressed in a suit, hair buzzed, smile on his face, and you knew you were done for.

You became extremely fast friends, going out to eat after nearly every day of filming, sharing things with each other like you'd known each other your entire lives. Within weeks, you couldn't imagine your life without Drew, and you considered him your best friend. Until you quickly realized you were much more. The rest is history, really.

There was a small, teeny, tiny part of you that wanted to tell your cast mates, to tell everyone, but you just loved the excitement too much. The risk of getting caught was thrilling. The thrill fueled your relationship - physical relationship, that is - and God did you love it. The stolen glances and 'innocent' touches in crowded rooms, the everlasting feeling of anticipation, the perpetual desperation you felt to just be near him. There was nothing else like it.

But that small part of you had been coming out to play more often recently. You wanted him to be yours. I mean, technically he had been for awhile, but you two were the only ones aware of this. You found yourself wanting to make it known that you weren’t just best friends like everyone thought.

But for now, until you figured out what you really want, and what Drew wants, you were fine with the thrill of it. You even had a little game you liked to play - drive Drew as crazy as possible in the most public of places. You had your game in mind when you picked out the dress you were wearing now as you sat across from Drew. You sat in the limo with the rest of the cast outside the red carpet for the season three premiere, meeting his eyes every couple moments to see him already looking at you.

You glanced down at your red silk dress, innocently adjusting the V-line to display a little more. "Y/n, that dress is absolutely gorgeous!!!" Maddie said next to you as soon as she'd noticed your attire.

"Oh my god it's stunning!" Madison said from the spot next to Drew, leaning toward you to touch the fabric.

Chase, Rudy and JD agreed with a simple approving head nod and "you look good."

Everyone's heads turned to an uncharacteristically quiet Drew, who was oh-so not subtly staring at your neckline. He snapped out of it after a second too long, "yeah-um, you look great," he managed to get out, tearing his eyes from you and down at his phone. "Shouldn't we get out there?"

A couple looks were exchanged before everyone agreed, positioning themselves to get out of the limo and immediately onto the carpet. As soon as the door opened, you could instantly hear the screams of fans and the shutters of cameras. "Woogity-woogity baby," Rudy said to all of you quickly, before being the first one to step out of the car.

You chuckled to yourself, before pasting a camera ready smile on your face. You got out second to last, Drew right behind you as you walked closer to the chaos. Before you could make it to where the rest of your cast mates were, already posing for the photographers, you felt a familiar hand on your waist, followed by a low whisper in your ear, "what do you think you're doing?"

You turned your head just slightly, so you could see him out of the corner of your eye. "Walking toward the red carpet?" you said innocently, smile still plastered on your lips, only growing when you saw the fire in his eyes. Not an angry fire, a lustful fire. Exactly what you anticipated.

His grip tightened around your waist, and he flashed a smile and a small wave to the fans that had spotted you two. “Why did you pick that dress?” he practically whined in your ear.

You shifted your body around, leaning into him ever so slightly careful to not seem suspicious, craning your head up so your mouth was by his ear opposite of the fans. "So you could take it off,” you whispered so quietly you weren't sure he'd be able to hear it. Drew's eyes widened, his polite smile for the audience faltering as he let out a breath. You pulled yourself out of his grip, a proud smile on your face at the confirmation that he had definitely heard you.

You walked toward the middle of the red carpet with an excited wave of your hand toward the fans, leaving Drew to quickly compose himself in front of hundreds of people.

You didn’t see or speak to Drew for nearly the entire rest of the time on the carpet, and you just knew that wherever he was, he was losing his mind. There was a reason you’d picked tonight to wear this dress; it was the busiest night of the year for you and the rest of the cast. Meaning you and Drew would never be able to slip away unnoticed, and you knew that would drive him insane. And maybe, just maybe, it would put the idea in his mind that things would be better if the world knew about you.

Now, standing at the bar at the after party you couldn't help but search the room for Drew. You leaned against the bar, mindlessly downing the drinks the bartender gave you as you waited for Drew to make himself known. When you finally found him, he was already staring at you from across the room. You didn't know if it was the alcohol's effect on you, or just your desire to finally be with Drew in public that made you start walking toward where he stood talking to Chase. You were nearly within his reach, when someone stepped into your pathway.

"Hey y/n!" Madeline said excitedly, her loud voice indicating that she'd also found the bar.

Your eyes stayed fixed on Drew for a moment, who'd witnessed the interruption. You looked at Madeline with a smile, "hey Mads. Having fun?"

You fell into a drunken conversation with Madeline, and you'd be lying if you said you were aware of what you were talking about. When you saw Drew stifle a laugh after Madeline had made a joke, you realized he was within earshot, and a plan formed in your intoxicated head. You fiddled with the straps of your dress in an obvious way with an obnoxious groan. "This dress is so uncomfortable," you said to Madeline with a sigh, "I think I'm gonna go change."

Madeline nodded her head mindlessly, "yes, go change. I'll see you later!" she slurred, pointing at you with her index finger. You let out a laugh, and turned around to walk toward the bathroom.

You only made it about halfway to the hallway before being stopped by a hand on your shoulder. You smiled widely, immediately knowing that your plan had worked. He was like a damn dog on a leash.

You turned around quickly-maybe a little too quickly-because you practically crashed into him, a chuckle involuntarily leaving your lips. Drew steadied you quickly, placing his hands on your hips.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he said after a moment, only a slightly hushed tone.

You pointed behind you to the bathroom, “to change,” you said simply, a knowing smile on your face.

His eyebrow raised, “I remember you saying I would be the one to take your dress off,” he said with a smirk, leaning in closer to your face.

You kept your eyes on his, not even thinking about who could be watching this interaction. “What are we waiting for then?”

Drew smiled and wasted no time slipping his hand into yours, pulling you along with him toward the hallway. You leaned into his chest as you walked, unable to hold in your chuckle at his eagerness. As you walked, you caught a glimpse of a few people sending confused looks your way. “Drew, people are looking,” you whispered, looking up at him to check for a reaction.

Drew simply tightened his grip on you, turning his head to place a kiss on your cheek. “Let them,” he mumbled against your skin.

“It’s about time,” you said with an ear-to-ear smile.

As the two of you stepped into the bathroom, you heard the angelic sound of Drew’s hearty laugh and the click of a camera.

taglist: @rafes-bae @willowpains @maybankslover @addisbooks

REQUESTS OPEN!!

check out my obx masterlist || taylor swift song fics masterlist

if u follow me & reblog my posts i’ll do the same for u !!

#drew #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey icons #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey #drew starkey x you #drew starkey smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagines #rafe obx #rafe cameron fic #obx #obx x reader #obx fanfic #obx imagines #obx cast #outer banks cast #obx cast x reader #madeline cline #rudy pankow #taylor swift #taylornation #reputation #taylor swift lyrics #dress taylor swift #dress reputation #rep taylor swift #outer banks fluff #outer banks season 3 #outer banks

[boltupbitches]

Could you please do one where Joe Burrow takes his baby and his wife to his game?

Joe Burrow - #1 Fan

Jordan continued to wail loudly as he sat on his cooing grandmother's lap. His mom had stepped out to use the restroom and he was left in the suite with his doting grandparents.

"Oh, Jordy, don't cry my baby! Daddy's going to be playing soon." His grandma cooed.

Jordan continued crying until he heard his grandpa say, "look! Mama is back. There's mama!"

Within moments his crying stopped at the sight of his grinning mama. He reached up with grabby hands towards her, his baby blue eyes filled with tears as his lower lip stuck out with a pout.

"Oh, baby." His mom cooed at him as she lifted him. "I just went potty my silly boy." She tickled his belly which made him leave out a shrill giggle. At 10 months old, he was a pretty big baby. He had a head full of blonde hair that matched his dad's from childhood photos and the cutest chubby cheeks.

This was his first game this season, missing the few months last season due to COVID and Joe's fear of him getting sick.

The second Jordan Lee Burrow was brought into this world, his dad turned into a hawk, always having an eye on him when he was home, and when away, he checked in multiple times a day. It got to the point that his wife broke down and installed cameras throughout the house so Joe could access the live feed on his phone when hundreds of miles away.

At times he drove his wife crazy with his constant hovering, but she understood that it was out of love and fear of the unknown.

Funny how women are the ones painted as the over concern first-time parent, when that was Joe 1000% of the time.

While pregnant and taking her pregnancy one step at a time, Mama Burrow was enjoying her time in preparing for the delivery.

Joe? Started nesting the house within weeks of them finding out. He had a crib set up and was buying all sorts of things.

The amount of Bengals memorabilia had increased tenfold with Bengals-themed baby gear everywhere.

-- Earlier --

Finally, when Joe was preparing to come to the stadium today, he wrung his hands nervously and kept checking his watch. "So, we play at 4:30."

"I know, hun." His wife said.

"Maybe come at 3 to avoid the hecticness? I'll have someone meet you guys at the back gates where the players park."

"I know." His wife smiled at him as he went over to pick up Jordan. "I promise everything will be ok, hun. Just play your best and we'll be there cheering you on."

Joe pressed a kiss to his sons forehead. "Is that right, Jordy? You're going to come see dada play?" Joe lifted him in the air like an airplane before bringing him back down against his chest, his son giggling loudly. "I love you, buddy."

-- Now --

Jordan was well behaved throughout the game. He suckled on his pinky and cuddled into the blanky his mom had draped across the two of them. By the time his dad finished playing, he had finished his bottle and was sleeping soundly on his grandpa's lap, his blanky held tightly in his small hands.

After speaking to the media, Joe rushed his way up to the suite and felt a rush of emotion hit him. The love and happiness he felt at the sight of his parents with his wife and son was unimagineable.

He first approached his wife who greeted him with a kiss and a hug. "I'm so proud of you guys, baby. Good job."

Joe kissed her again, "Thanks babe. I love you." He gave her another squeeze before releasing her to give his mom a quick peck on the cheek and a hug.

Finally, he got to the one person he'd been waiting on hours to see. His son was napping peacefully on his dad's lap, his eyelashes fluttering as he continued to suckle on his binky peacefully.

"Hey bud." Joe whispered as he gently scooped his son up, careful to not wake him. "Hey dad." Joe said sheepishly at his dad, almost forgetting to greet him.

"Good game, son." His dad said in return with a smile.

"Thanks." Joe said as he turned towards his wife. "Ready to go home, babe?"

His wife smiled at him. "Yeah, let's go home."

#joe burrow imagines #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow one shot

[thehardy-boys]

The Platform Part 2 (Tommy Shelby x Reader)

Thank you all for your responses to my first part! You all are so lovely and supportive! Here's part 2 and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Nothing...not yet.

Part 2

For the rest of the week (y/n) worried that she might have offended him. Was she supposed to think he would remember her? Was it an insult to his memory to assume he didn’t? She racked her brains for hours in the dead of night only to feel foolish for even caring. It wasn’t like they had ever been close. They played together when they were kids but then she left. And yes…after the war that moment on the platform as she sifted through all those men, all those men with death in their eyes, for her brother. But that was it.

The Thomas she remembered was a quiet, thoughtful boy. He had a wild imagination and was always coming up with new games for all of them to play. (y/n) didn’t know who this man was now. Small Heath feared him. They feared the Peaky Blinders. And (y/n) was sad to admit she was fearful of him too.

Come Thursday afternoon she gritted her teeth before knocking on his office door.

In and out. That’s all. She repeated to herself.

“Come in.”

He looked up from his paperwork when she walked in. (y/n) did exactly as she had practiced numerous times in her head: she walked over and placed the drafted issue on his desk and said, “Is there anything you would like me to tell Mr. Beavers?”

Thomas stubbed out his cigarette bud and sat back with a sigh. He watched her as she stood like a statue in front of his authoritative desk. She could feel his eyes like a physical touch. She watched as the danced all over her face, her hair, her neck but no lower.

“Have a drink with me.” He got up and turned his back to pour two glasses of whiskey.

“No, thank you. I’m still working Mr. Shelby.” She shook her head as he held out the glass.

He set it down on the edge of the table and took sip from his own.

“How’s your mother?”

(y/n) was taken aback. She stood there for a minute processing his question.

“My mother? She’s sick.”

Thomas nodded, “And you’re looking after her? That’s why you came back?”

“Yes. One of the reasons.” She felt bewildered. What was this?

“What were the others?”

“I don’t understand Mr. Shelby. My reasons for returning are entirely my own.” Was this some kind of interrogation?

She watched him down the rest of the glass and clench his jaw at the sting. Thomas remained standing but slowly walked around to the other side of the desk. But as soon as he came within an arm length of her, she took a step back. It did not go unnoticed. She watched as his eyes flickered towards the distance she had created.

“I’ve heard things, that’s all.”

“Heard things? Gossip, you mean?”

He made a noncommittal noise.

“Well, it’s no one’s business. Keep believing the gossip, I don’t care if the people here spin tales.” (y/n) knew she was being a bit to hostile, but she came in hoping to just throw him the issue and leave and now he was putting her through a round house of questions.

He raised his eyebrows at her tone, “Polly’s just worried.”

She turned her head, so she didn’t have to look at him anymore, “That’s very kind of her but I’m fine. If that’s all, Mr. Shelby?”

“How about after your work?”

“I’m sorry?” Thomas had leaned back against the desk crossing his arms.

“After your work do you drink?”

(y/n) still was unsure of where this line of questions was heading.

“Come to the Garrison to have a drink,” he cleared his throat, “with me.”

Her heart betrayed her by missing a beat, but she ignored it stubbornly. No this wasn’t going to happen.

“No, I’m sorry Mr. Shelby. You’re technically my boss now. I don’t think it’s appropriate.” Before he could argue she left. Her heart jack rabbiting all the way back to the office. She was ashamed to admit she was scared he would run after her with his razors, spin her around, and threaten her, or force her to join him. No such thing happened. The day went on. She stopped by her mother’s on her way home. Nothing changed. The old woman was just one day closer to the end.

(y/n) spent the night thinking of the broadness of Thomas’s shoulders. Silly girl. She berated herself. Silly girl.

(y/n) was a loyal worker. If she was given a job, she would do it. And that’s why every week she dutiful went down to the Shelby Limited offices and dropped off the issue. Thomas never asked for another drink. He would sometimes give her a message for Mr. Beavers but that was it. No more questions. No more interrogations.

One Thursday he had pointed out a packet of papers on the coffee table he wanted her to bring to her boss. She walked over and leaned down to flip through the contents, trying to assess how much time it would take to process. As she straightened up, she flinched at his sudden proximity; he had been leaning over to have a look, as well.

“Sorry, Mr. Shelby. I didn’t hear you.” She admitted softly trying to regain control over her heart.

(y/n) took a small step back. He took a step forward. Her eyes widened and she glanced down at his feet then up to his face. But he never gave anything away. She took another step back and he followed with his step forward. His eyes fixated almost violently on her face. One step back and one step forwards.

“Mr. Shelby…” She began with a slight tremor that she hated herself for.

“Are you afraid of me, (y/n)?”

She watched him bite the inside of his cheek subtly. He was calculating. Analyzing. Waiting.

“Yes.” She admitted softly.

His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. He looked angry but he turned around and walked all the way back to his desk and fell into his chair.

She grabbed the packet and left. Not looking back. Never looking back.

The next Thursday she careful placed the issue on his desk and he hadn’t even bothered looking up.

She cleared her throat, “Mr. Shelby, I can give this responsibility over to someone else. Ms. Lowe would be more than willing to take over.”

His head shot up, “Are you that afraid?” His question was accusatory.

“No, no. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Thomas snorted placing his pen down, “Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby. I am. I just – over time I’ll become less afraid.” And she meant it. The truth was she wasn’t so afraid of what he had done, of his illegal dealings but more afraid of what she wanted him for. Afraid of how he haunted her mind at night and her day dreams.

“I don’t want Ms. Lowe.” He said while drowning her to death in his eyes. And that was that.

Life didn’t change much even with this new additional Shelby connection. Small Heath was still an unhappy place. (y/n) was still tired. Her mother still mumbled and hissed for her to leave and (y/n)’s head still hurt every day after leaving work.

Only because Evelyn had been pestering her non-stop did she bother to say anything.

“Ms. Lowe wanted to know when the next singing night would be at the Garrison.”

“Ms. Lowe?” Thomas furrowed his eyebrows. He always remained sitting at his desk when she dropped the issue off now, kept his distance and she was thankful. He was much less intimidating this way.

“Yes, Ms. Lowe. The woman you met before, blonde hair, red lips, single.”

He raised his eyebrows, “What about her?”

“What I just said.” (y/n) huffed a laugh at Thomas’s purposeful obtuseness. It was an annoyingly endearing trait that she remembered from when they were kids.

Thomas quirked his lips slightly and (y/n) was astonished to admit that she hadn’t seen him smile once seen she had met him all those weeks ago. Then again, the war changed everyone. He had that look in his eyes same as her brother, that all those men had. The look of absence. The missing piece. Something taken.

“You can tell her there’ll be one this Saturday.”

“Great, now she can finally leave me be.”

“She’s botherin’ you.” His cigarette case opened with a click. He offered her one, but she declined.

“She has quite the crush on you. She’s been asking me to drop hints. Although don’t tell her I point blank told you or she’d have my head.”

He took a long drag while watching her.

“A crush?”

(y/n) nodded.

“Why don’t you come with her on Saturday?”

(y/n) scrunched her nose, “I don’t really get along with her, but I’ll tell her the day. Can I tell her you’ll be there?”

He blew out the smoke, “No, no I won’t be there.”

It was the following week when (y/n) encountered another face from her past. She had entered Thomas’s office before realizing that he wasn’t alone. Another man was sitting in front of the desk.

“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Shelby. I can come back later.”

“No need. We just finished.”

The other man had turned around upon hearing her voice, “Bloody hell! (y/n) (l/n). I can’t believe it.”

John Shelby walked over and pulled her into a tight embrace. He was all muscle now. (y/n) remembered how soft and sweet he was as a kid, round face, and chubby cheeks. Always running after her and helping her climb up the trees out in the wild. His face still carried that mischievous twist.

“John, It’s so nice to see you, again.” He put her at arm’s length to have a good look at her.

“My god. You’re an absolute stunner, (y/n). Thomas was right.”

“John, remember what I said about the meeting this evening.” Thomas’ voice was close behind his younger brother and there was an edge to it, a warning.

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you ‘round (y/n). Don’t be a stranger, now.”

“Of course not, John.” She chuckled.

Then she was left with the other brother, “Here’s the issue, Mr. Shelby.”

He took it from her and tossed it on his desk without look at her, in fact he wasn’t meeting her eyes at all. Thomas methodically went about taking out and lighting a cigarette. His silence was beginning to unnerve (y/n).

“Is there something I can report to Mr. Beavers?”  

“I want to do a few pieces on horses.” He gestured vaguely, “I want a few articles on their nature, their training, their value.”

He blew out a puff of smoke and walked over to one of the sofas. He gestured to the opposite one. (y/n) followed his suggestion.

“Is that something people are interested in reading about?”

“I’ve frequented the race tracks for several years now. The more people ‘round here who feel like they have an understanding of horses will be more likely to make a bet. It develops a market.”

(y/n) shrugged, “Alright, I’ll take your word for it. I’ll tell Mr. Beavers to assign someone.”

“I want you to write it.” He pointed to her with the same hand that held his burning cigarette finally meeting her eyes. The shocking blue of them always caught her off guard.  

“Me?” She was in disbelief, “I don’t know anything about horses! Besides, I’m a general editor not a writer.”

Thomas scoffed, “I know that you write about half the articles in that paper already. Mr. Beavers told me.”

(y/n) averted her gaze to the beautiful oil painting of a horse on one of the office walls. She sighed.

“I still don’t know anything about horses.”

“I’ll arrange a time I can take you out to the stables. I’ll show you ‘round the horses.”

(y/n) sat there just staring at him. She just couldn’t understand. What was his angle? What did he want? She rubbed her forehead. It was just another chore.

“Alright, Mr. Shelby. If that’s what you think is best. I’ll tell Mr. Beavers.”

She got up to leave but he leaned forward and snagged her wrist. She stopped moving immediately and looked over at him. His hand was gentle around her arm. It was loose enough for her to shake him off. He was surprisingly warm. She saw him looking into her eyes, waiting for her fear, a flinch, a tremor, and she was certain if he saw it, he would let go immediately.

“What do you think of John?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You treat him differently. You’re not the same as you are with me.”

“I – well, he’s younger than me and he’s not my boss. I remember practically babysitting him when we were kids.” She shrugged, “It’s just different.”

His face remained a perfect mask of indifference.

“Maybe you don’t understand how you look, Mr. Shelby.” (y/n) tried again.

“How I look?” His eyebrows raised.

“Like you’d rather be anywhere else than here. You’re very serious, Mr. Shelby. It’s hard to feel at ease around someone like that.”  

His hand slipped off her wrist, “I’ll let you know when I can take you to the stables.”

(y/n) hesitated for only a moment. It wasn’t her responsibility to make Thomas Shelby feel good about himself.

Part 1 ---- Part 3

#cillian murphy thomas shelby #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy #tommy shelby #alfie solomons #film #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #oppenheimer #cillian x fem!reader #thomasshelbyedit #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby smut #peaky blinders smut #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader

[swimmingismywholelife]

Inspiration

Dedicated to the Puli girls who have given me inspo to start writing again! (Also this is my first bit of writing in literal years please be nice to me lmao) (Also also if I missed anyone in the tags sorry I’m lowkey running late for work so that’s my bad just let me know if you wanna be added!)

Summary: Even though the press conference is supposed to be about him, Christian can't help but look over at the one who he really owes the win to.

Warnings: Nothing this is just straight fluff lmao.

Word Count: 1004

You loved supporting your boyfriend. Truly Christian Pulisic was one of the most hardworking people you’d ever met, and you admired the passion he had everywhere he went. After all, it was one of the qualities that led to you falling for him in the first place. The past few weeks had been difficult for him, but he pushed through and never gave up (not that you would let him anyway). He deserved all the praise he received because he worked hard to better himself every single day, and you never turned down the opportunity to show the world just how proud you were of him.

Hence why you were seated off to the side, “Pulisic” being proudly displayed across your back while he finished up his press conference with Weston. He’d had so many setbacks within the past few months, and you knew he was frustrated with being away from the pitch for so long. Throughout the game were a few times you gritted your teeth, praying he wouldn’t aggravate his injury, but it was nothing Christian couldn’t handle. He’d just had two assists and a goal against Grenada, helping his team officially qualify for the Gold Cup in the summer. To top it all off, he’d done it with symbol of Captain wrapped around his bicep. You couldn’t have asked for a better game for him.

Yet despite this press conference meant to celebrate the team’s win, Christian insisted you be there throughout the entire interview. Christian was so proud of the way his team played, and he was pretty happy with his performance. But for him, the best part of his night didn’t come from any of his assists. It didn’t come from the comfortable lead the boys had throughout the entire game. Hell, it didn’t even come from the goal he didn’t think he’d end up getting. 

No, rather Christian was most happy that you were right there in the stands by his side, just like you always were. Ever since he got injured, he’d spent weeks frustrated that he couldn’t play like he wanted to. He knew what people had been saying about him online, and he wanted nothing more than to prove them wrong. But despite the negativity that suffocated him, you were the light that he needed to keep going. You centered him, helping him remember what he was doing and why he was doing it. You constantly inspired him to be the best version of himself that he could be. Even when he doubted himself, you always had enough belief in him for the both of you. 

Christian wanted the world to know just how much you meant to him, even if it was just you sitting off to the side as he answered questions. He snuck glances at you every so often, his eyes full of love. He adored how incredibly breathtaking you looked tonight. Christian always thought you were the most beautiful thing in this world, but he couldn’t help but admire you even more as you sat there, eyes twinkling with pride and his last name across your back.

“This question is for Christian,” one of the interviewers said.

His head snapped back in front of him, wanting to give the man his full attention.

“I noticed that throughout the night, you’ve kept peeking your head off to the side. Is there any particular reason as to why?”

Christian blushed ever so slightly, Weston slightly nudging his friend teasingly.

“Um yeah. Sorry this isn’t gonna be about football and I might go on a bit of a tangent, but it’s because my incredible girlfriend is sat over there. She’s actually part of the reason I played so well today.” 

He chuckled a bit, his eyes lighting up with excitement the more he spoke.

“She’s been so incredibly supportive throughout my entire career, and especially throughout these past few weeks. Getting injured was pretty rough for me, but she’s kept me pretty level headed. Even when I was at my lowest, her faith in me overpowered any negativity I had. She’s my good luck charm for sure, and I don’t think I ever would’ve made it this far if it wasn’t for her.”

He looked over at you once again. You were on the verge of tears, your heart feeling like it could burst at any moment. You were so in love with this man and truly you couldn’t believe how you managed to find someone like him.

“Every day I thank God for allowing me to be a part of her life because I can’t imagine anyone else really. Like honestly, I’m so much better because of her, both on and off the field. So yeah, I know tonight was a great game, but the best part for me was the fact that my girl was in the crowd wearing my jersey and cheering us on. And so yeah if you’ve seen me looking off to the side, it’s because I remind myself just how lucky I really am to have her.”

The crowd aw’ed at Christian’s proclamation. He’s right, his answer wasn’t really about football. But it was clear to everyone in that room that to him, you were just as important to the game as any practice Christian could’ve put in. Though he had won the game that night, he felt like every day he won because he had you by his side.

The interview continued on for a little while longer, but Christian continuing looking right at you. For now, your last name was only on in the form of his jersey. But he knew one day that it would be your last name too because there was no one else he would’ve wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And as the two of you smiled shyly at each other as though you were the only ones in the room, the genuine love you and Christian shared touched all who you were lucky enough to witness it.

Taglist: @neverinadream​ @pulisicsgirl​ @masonspulisic @lovelynikol16​ @chelseagirl98​ @bracedes​

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic fluff #swimmingismywholelife

[iguessigotta]

Eddie gluskin with a pregnant darling maybe

you know what's funny about Eddie Gluskin being one of my faves? i am terrified of pregnancy just headcanons for now - this ended up being more an exploration of the inherent horror of this situation than anything shippy, whoops. also kind of an au where Waylon does not survive his encounter with Eddie 18+ just in case CW: injuries, noncon, hostage, pregnancy, suicide mention cannibalism(?) probably more i missed. (no r*** - it is alluded to tho) i mean it's Eddie. the man is a walking billboard for "dead dove do not eat" ok lmao

being Eddie’s darling wife was a living nightmare

you’d been one of the few employees allowed near Eddie, and he’d developed a….thing…for you. well, not you, really, more the idea of you

and when the Mount Massive asylum fell into chaos, you were one of the unlucky people trapped inside

when Eddie found you he was quick to make his image of you your new reality

whether you wanted it or not

you’d initially fought him at every turn. unfortunately, Eddie had a temper, and was prone to snapping with no warning

you’d learned that lesson the hard way - your forearm was still in a makeshift splint, a dull ache where he’d fractured the bone in a fit of anger. or had he broken it? you weren’t sure. all you knew is it hurt like hell and made it nearly impossible for you to fight back

after that incident, you thought keeping your head down and quietly obeying him was the smart choice. that you’d be safe enough to ride out this mess until someone arrived to help

you had to believe that someone was coming. you told yourself you’d be rescued within the week, that there was no way a facility as large as Mount Massive could go down in flames like this without someone noticing

days turned into weeks, weeks into months (how many had it been? 3? 4?)

every night you sat, ankles bound to your chair at the end of some wobbly, bloodstained table, Eddie at the opposite end, a makeshift dinner spread between the two of you

occasionally there would be some sort of meat among the sawdust-flavored rations - Eddie was always vague when you asked him what kind of meat it was 

you resisted for the first month, but your resolve broke a week into the second, the hunger pains driving you to tears and forcing you to make a choice

so you ate. and you tried not to think about where he got it from

it was like the two of you playing some sick game of house

Eddie kept a close eye on you when he was around, restraining you when he wasn’t

you’d be tied to a chair. strapped down on your back atop some bloodstained hospital mattress. arms bound behind you, tied to a support beam and forced to sit on the cold concrete floor

all of it was miserable

Eddie said it was for your safety, but you knew better. especially after he’d found you with a knife you’d managed to get your hands on. he’d stopped you from trying to slash your own throat, spewing some bullshit about his darling preferring death over a blissful life as the proud mother of his many, many children 

 he wasn’t going to let you leave him in any way

some part of you thought about pleading with Eddie to “think of the baby” and untie you - but that only reminded you that you were, in fact, pregnant

and it was starting to show

whatever mental energy you could spare went to trying (and failing) to block that fact out of your mind

you felt like you were trapped in two horror stories simultaneously - one, enduring whatever Eddie decided to do to you on a daily basis, and two, the unwanted life growing inside you against your will

not to mention the mental anguish of what to do after the…birth. would you even survive that? would you want to? 

should  you try to raise and protect it? or would it be more merciful if you…

it was a horrifying decision to make, one that you flinched away from whenever you found yourself thinking about it

every day you wondered if it would be better to piss him off, have him kill you in a fit of rage. it wouldn't be hard to do, but for some reason the knowledge that you were pregnant stopped you

well, you told yourself, at least you got to skip Eddie’s “operation table”. all the men who came before you weren’t so lucky, if the video on that camera you found was to be believed….

#dead dove do not eat #reader beware #eddie gluskin x reader #yandere eddie gluskin x reader #this is straight up horror reader is having a bad time #in so many ways! #eddie gluskin headcanons #outlast x reader #kinda sorta tempted to write a short fic exploring this absolute nightmare but idk #we'll see idk #no beta we die like men #no kids allowed #sorry if this isn't what you were looking for anon i just had ✨ideas✨ and ✨thoughts✨ in my little head #anyway Eddie Gluskin is horrible and I love him everyone look at my nasty blorbo he's awful <3 #requests #inbox is open and I'm in the mood for horror so #eyes emoji

[forest-hashira]

Noble Blood - Chapter Two

hello everyone! i really didn't think i'd have chapter two of this finished & posted so quickly, but i was feeling motivated, apparently, so here you go! some dragon rider au to start off your new year. if you haven't read chapter one, you can find it right here.

cw: gender neutral reader, more little kid shenanigans (sneaking out of the house), here there be dragons!!! | wc: 2.4k | read on ao3 here

Things were normal at first after Satoru’s birthday celebration. You still spent your mornings in the one-room schoolhouse with Shoko, Utahime, and Kento, learning reading, writing, math, and history from Utahime’s mother, while Satoru attended his own lessons at home with private tutors. You spent your afternoons running around the settlement with your friends, getting into mischief if Satoru was with you, playing games or running errands if he wasn’t. 

After the night of the fireworks show, you often found yourself sneaking off to the peach orchard to stargaze on the observation deck. Most nights Satoru would be there already, staring up at the stars, acknowledging you only with a smile as you sat with him, pressed up together to share body heat as your breaths puffed out in white clouds before you. 

The two of you spent many nights together like that, at first just silently observing the stars, though eventually he began to point out constellations to you and tell you their names; his favorite was Draco, yours was Hydra. You loved that he decided to share that knowledge with you, but it made you wonder what else his tutors were teaching him that you weren’t learning in your own lessons. 

You quickly grew accustomed to this new routine – even found that you looked forward to the nights where you would be able to slip out of the house unnoticed – but the comfort you’d found in those stolen moments was shattered within a few short weeks. 

Word had begun to spread through the settlement that there was a clutch of dragon eggs on the Gojo estate, and it was expected it was only a matter of days before they hatched. You had heard the rumor from a shopkeeper in town – who no doubt had heard it from someone who worked for the Gojo clan – and decided to ask your friend if it was true. 

“It is,” he told you that night, his eyes sparkling with more than starlight. “It’s only two eggs this time, which is small even for our family’s dragons.” 

“Are your parents going to take you to see them once they hatch?” Children didn’t typically start meeting hatchling dragons until they turned ten, but you thought maybe things were different for prestigious families like Satoru’s. 

“No,” he sighed. “In fact, they’ve told me multiple times that I’m not to go anywhere near the roost.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not old enough.”

That seemed like a perfectly logical reason to you, but it was clear that Satoru wasn’t satisfied with it, and you knew him well enough to know he was most likely going to ignore his parents’ direct instructions.

“I’m going to sneak in to see them after they hatch.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “Of course you are.”

“You should come with me.”

That caught you off guard, and you stared at him dumbly. “...What?”

“You should come with me to see the hatchlings.” He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you, awaiting an actual response. “Don’t you want to see a baby dragon up close?”

“I-I mean, yeah, but wouldn’t we get in trouble?”

He just shrugged. “I’m not worried about it. They’ve never really punished me before.”

“But they might punish me if we get caught.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, and he frowned slightly. “Why would they do that?”

“Because I’d be breaking into their estate uninvited!”

“But I’m inviting you right now.” 

You stared at each other for a few long moments then, his blue eyes searching your face for something, but you weren’t sure what.

“I don’t think your parents would count this as an actual invitation to the estate,” you said eventually, uncertain how else to get the point across to him. “All they would care about is me being there when I’m not supposed to be.”

“...So you’re not going to come with me?” He looked so disappointed you felt like you might cry, but still you shook your head.

“No,” you agreed. “I’m sorry, Satoru.”

He said nothing in response, just looked away, his focus on the stars again, like it was every night before this one. You shuffled closer, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes; for a moment, you could pretend that this was any other night you’d spent stargazing with him, and that you didn’t feel a little sick knowing you’d upset one of your best friends.

You didn’t see Satoru at all the next day, and he wasn’t on the observation deck that night when you arrived; the idea of staying up there alone after how you’d left things with your friend the night before just made you sad, so you’d gone straight home.

The next day, however, the snowy haired boy was waiting outside the schoolhouse. He called your name as you stepped out of the building, reaching out and grabbing your arm, pulling you aside and looking down at you with wide eyes.

“They hatched,” he said, and you knew exactly what he was talking about. “It was early this morning. I’m going to see them tonight.”

His tone was hushed and secretive, the words tripping over each other as they tumbled past his lips. It was then that you noticed how flushed his face was, his cheeks and nose and even the tips of his ears a bright red, despite the coat and scarf he wore. 

After a moment, you realized he was trying one last time to get you to join him in sneaking off to see the hatchlings, without saying the words out loud. Your throat felt tight, suddenly, and you couldn’t bear the thought of letting him down again, so after a moment of hesitation, you nodded.

“I’ll meet you by the sakura tree in your courtyard,” you told him quietly. “If I’m not there by ten, my parents caught me, so just go without me.”

Satoru’s face lit up at your words, and he nodded, giving your arm a light squeeze. The gesture seemed to lift a weight from your heart, and you smiled at him. Even if this “plan” wasn’t well thought out and would likely spell nothing but trouble for the two of you, you couldn’t ignore the excitement already rushing through your veins; you were going to see hatchlings up close for the first time, and you were thrilled.

Unfortunately, that excitement was rather short-lived. Your parents, who usually turned in early at night, decided to stay up much later than you expected, sitting in the main room by the fireplace, sharing a warm drink and talking quietly to each other. You sat at your door the entire time, gaze flitting between your parents and the clock above the fireplace through the gap between the door and the doorframe, your hopes of sneaking out unnoticed dwindling with every passing minute.

Eventually, the clock struck ten, and you climbed into your bed. The deadline you’d set to meet Satoru had come, and you knew even if your parents went to bed now, there was no chance you’d be able to make it to the sakura tree to meet your friend before he left to see the hatchlings on his own.

Finding sleep was difficult after that, an uneasy feeling having settled in your gut, though you didn’t know why.

There was no sign of Satoru for days after the night he’d snuck in to see the hatchlings, and the uneasy feeling you’d developed grew into something sickening, your stomach churning every time you thought about what might’ve happened to him. Had he gotten caught sneaking out and gotten punished for once in his life? Had the mother dragon deemed him a threat and attacked him when he’d gotten too close to her brood? Had some even worse fate than punishment or injury befallen him?

The worry kept you up at night, tossing and turning, hoping you would see your friend again soon, and that he would complain about being grounded and confined to his chambers before telling you about the hatchlings. But none of that ever happened.

Instead, four days after your failed rendezvous, you received a summons to the Gojo estate.

A messenger from the family arrived at your house one morning, knocking on the door and telling your mother your presence was requested.

“They can go after school,” she said, and made to close the door before she was stopped. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid the young master is insisting on seeing them right away.”

Your mother glanced down at you where you’d begun to hover beside her, and after holding your gaze for a moment, she sighed. “We’ll be ready in a moment, just let us get our coats.”

The messenger looked a bit uncomfortable, a grimace on his face as he spoke. “Only your child has been invited. No one else is to accompany them, I’m afraid. Gojo-sama’s orders,” he rushed to add, when your mother seemed to grow indignant.

“I’ll be okay,” you told her, reaching up to take her hand for a moment. “I’ve been to see him before without anyone else.”

Your mother’s gaze was uncertain as she looked down at you once again, her features pinched together with worry, but eventually she nodded, dropping her shoulders and forcing herself to relax. “You’re right,” she sighed, giving a slight shake of her head as she turned away from the door, taking your coat from the hook it hung on and handing it to you. “Come straight home when you’re finished, alright?” 

You nodded, pulling on your coat and promising to return after your visit with Satoru. You stepped outside then, walking with the messenger as he led the way back to the Gojo estate. The whole time, your mind raced with possibilities about why you’d been summoned to the estate, rather than Satoru just coming to see you himself, which he’d always seemed to prefer in the past. You were so lost in your thoughts, in fact, that you failed to notice you had reached the estate until you were being ushered through the front gates.

“Do you know your way through the house?” the messenger asked.

You looked up at him dumbly for a moment, then nodded, once you’d processed his question.

He nodded back slightly. “Then I will let you continue on your own. The young master is refusing to see anyone but you.”

You nodded again, turning away and walking towards the main house, though all you could think was Why won’t he see anyone else? Removing your shoes in the genkan almost as an afterthought, you stepped fully into the house, heading down the hallway you knew led to Satoru’s chambers.

It didn’t take long to reach his door, and you knocked lightly on the wooden frame. “Satoru?” you called. “It’s me.”

“Come in!” he called back, and after a beat of hesitation, you turned the knob and pushed the door open.

“Close it behind you,” Satoru siad, his voice coming from the other side of the room, behind the privacy screen that separated his bed from the rest of the room. You did as you were asked, pushing the door shut until it clicked before crossing the room to reach your friend. 

“Satoru, I’ve been so worried about you! What happened with the hatch—”

The words died in your throat as you stepped around the privacy screen, only to be greeted by the sight of Satoru perched cross-legged in the middle of his bed, the smallest dragon you’d ever seen curled up in his lap, sound asleep.

A pure white dragon.

All you could do was stare for several long moments, trying to process what you were seeing: Satoru, with a dragon – a single color dragon, at that – but it just didn’t make sense. It was still at least two years before you or any of your friends would be old enough to start visiting hatchlings and eventually meet your destined dragons.

“Is it… is that your dragon?” you eventually managed to ask, tearing your eyes away from the creature to meet your friend’s gaze. 

Satoru nodded, unable to suppress his grin. “Yeah, he is. His name is Kenji.”

“How did this even happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“How did you bond with him? I didn’t even think we were old enough for that to happen.”

Your friend shrugged. “Guess I’m just special.” Though his words were smug, you caught the teasing lilt in his voice, and you laughed softly despite yourself.

“You’re certainly something,” you agreed, teasing him right back. “Is this why you haven’t left the estate in days?”

“Yeah. My parents keep telling me the first week is really important for bonding with him. But he just sleeps all the time.” His bottom lip stuck out slightly in a pout, and you shook your head slightly, stepping closer and settled on the edge of his bed.

“But you have your dragon now, and you might be the youngest person ever to bond with their dragon,” you pointed out. “That’s pretty cool.” 

That seemed to cheer him up some, his pout melting back into a smile.

“Does this mean you’ll start your training soon?”

“I think so,” he said. “But I’m pretty sure my parents are sending for a special trainer, so I don’t know when he’ll get here.”

The two of you sat and talked for a bit longer, and you felt as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders; the sickening, uneasy feeling disappeared, as well, eased by the knowledge that your friend was alright, just dealing with a big change.

After a while there was a lull in the conversation, and you knew it was probably time for you to return home. You weren’t sure how long you’d sat with Satoru, but you had a feeling it had been longer than you thought. 

“I’ll see you later, Satoru. Don’t stay locked up in here too much longer, okay?”

“As soon as my parents let me out I’ll see you every day,” Satoru promised, and you knew he meant it with his whole heart.

You smiled, feeling light with relief. “I can’t wait,” you said, then dropped your gaze back to the dragon in your friend’s lap; he was still sound asleep. “Bye, Kenji,” you added quietly, standing from the bed and waving to the pair before you left the room. 

Satoru had his dragon now. You weren’t entirely sure what that meant for you or the rest of your friends, but you were sure of one thing: your lives were all about to change.

i hope you guys are enjoying reading this as much as i'm enjoying writing it! as always, reblogs & likes are always appreciated!!! they keep my writer heart full and motivated to keep writing things for people to read 💜 ALSO HAPPY YEAR OF THE DRAGON EVERYBODY!!!

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if your URL is crossed out, it's because tumblr wouldn't let me tag you, i apologize!

#jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk au #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jjk reader insert #gojo satoru x reader #gojo jjk #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #geto x gojo x reader #satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto jjk #suguru geto #jjk geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #fallon's fics #noble blood #dragon rider au #divider credits to cafekitsune & saradika

[ceriisehart]

No need for words

Word count: 1 400

TW: The grammar is dead

Content: Hurt/comfort? | angst | spoilers

This piece was born thank to a silly little discussion I have with @janitorhutcherson about what type of sport Mike would have played in middle and high school. Eng isn't my first language so I apologize for the mistakes 💀

You were more than familiar with Michael Schmidt. Having both your parents acquainted and living in the same little suburb would do that to you. Playing in each other's garden, climbing trees and chasing imaginary treasure maps. Through the years you had seen him developing a liking to sport, baseball in particular. The way his hazel eyes had lit when both of your fathers had dragged you to a baseball game was still perfectly inked in your mind.

Then, out of nowhere, little Garrett disappeared. You learned it from your parents, who themselves learned from Mike's one. It shocked you. How could that have happened? Being twelve years old, you had been warned many times about the danger lingering and hiding outside. But never could you have thought this was ever going to happen to you. Or someone you knew. All the time you had passed with the Schmidt brothers flashing in front of your eyes. For weeks, you hadn't had news from your friend. Weeks that soon turned into a whole month. You were worried sick, and the back and forth of the police car to the Schmidts house wasn't helping.

And one day, your parents sat you in the living room, dumping the news that Garrett wasn't going to ever be found. You had cried a lot that night. You couldn't start to imagine how Mike was possibly feeling across the street. That was why, the day he officially came back to school you dropped your backpack to your friends feet, not caring one bit about your stuff, to go and hug the boy.

You had tightly gripped his shirt, not ready to let go. You never once asked him how he felt, knowing he was more than likely going to get harassed by classmates and other professors about it. You just made it clear to him that you weren't going anywhere. You assured him that you were always going to be here for him.

You had witnessed first hand the life seeping away from his body. Not even baseball was appealing to him anymore. It was clear that healing would take a while. You were aware of that. Yet you couldn't help but blame yourself for not finding a way to relieve him from his pain.

And the sudden arrival of a new Schmidt didn't help at all. The fear of losing a sibling again had struck Mike head on. He had failed Garrett before, why would it be different this time? He wasn't ready to be an older sibling again. In all his panic, you were grateful. You knew it wasn't how you were supposed to feel, but he had come to you. Just like you would have gone to him. Within all the reshaping Garrett's abduction had done, it had never affected your relationship with the older Schmidt's brother. He had closed himself up to people, except to his inner circle that you were a part of. And this piece of information was making your gloomy day better.

After a few years, you were now in your last year of high school. Thankfully, Mike was doing better. He was enjoying life a little bit more, even though you knew he wasn't healed hundred percent. There wasn't a world where he could forget and forgive himself for what happened. But him wanting to play baseball again was a start you were more than happy to witness. You couldn't wait to go and see him play like you used to.

Both of you were closer than ever. Even though you weren't seen often together at school, people just knew there was no separating you. Everybody knew it, to the point that they were whispering in corridors and back of classes if you and Mike were only just friends. Ambiguity was lying between the two of you making every last one of you friends and classmates doubt your relationship. And even though you had silently decided to not address the matter at hand by pretending you didn't know, you both knew.

Of course something was going on between you two. It wasn't new. Electricity had grown during all this time you had known each other. Both of you were just a little too blind to see it at the beginning. It all eventually made sense one summer night. You were off school, walking aimlessly in your neighborhood in a comfortable silence. The small breeze was brushing through your loose hair, while your hand was brushing against his. Linked pinky soon shaped into intertwined hands as he walked you back home. None of you said a word that night. You knew each other perfectly, both satisfied with what you had. There was no need for words to cross your lips.

So you let the whispers run free in your school. You let people say whatever they wanted. Mike let his teammates teased and taunted him every time they would spot you at their training or official games. You let the rumors slide. Because there was no need to tell the world how it was between you. You were both already aware.

And it all went crashing down when Mike's mother passed away, soon followed by his father. He was alone again with a kid in charge and an awful greedy aunt in his shadow. Still living across the street, having your parents moved away, you had tried to be there for him, like you had promised. But again it seemed like whatever you would do was never enough to ease his mind. Working in the local bookstore, you had offered taking care of Abby for him. Suggestions that Mike had strongly disagreed with, saying you already had enough on your plate. Statement you both knew was false.

He was so stressed out, tired. You worry was back on track in a flash when he came into the bookstore buying a book about dreams and memories. The explanation he gave you did nothing to reassure you. His parents dying had opened an old wound you thought was partially healed. You saw the pills, the debts, the anger rising without knowing how to help. That went on for months until you took the matter into your hands.

Waiting on the small set of stairs in front of the Schmidts door house, twirling your keys, you saw Mike parked his car getting out. Standing up you walked the distance separating you. “Don't worry about Abby, my parents are here, she's with them.” You answered before he got the time to ask. “You're coming with me.” Again you didn't let him have the time to protest, taking his hands in yours, crossing the street to your car shoving him in the passenger seat.

The drive was silent, just like most of your walk were. Nothing had changed you guessed. After an hour or so, you parked into a rather empty parking lot. Getting out of the car, Mike could read “batting cages” lightened in neon color above the entrance of a building.

When you started your journey to the edifice, he followed hot on your heels. Inside you were greeted by the familiar sound of baseball being hit. While you paid for the most far away cage, Mike took in his surroundings. Memories were flooding back in his mind, stopping when you called for him.

Putting on the rented gloves he got inside the cage, muscle memory kicking in as soon as the first ball was sent his way. After two others hit, he knew why you had dragged him here. He needed to get his anxiousness and anger out. So he indulged. And it lasted for two hours. Two hours you spent sitting on the bench watching your neighbor and friend never missing a hit.

Getting out of the cage, he discarded the gloves sitting down next to you, taking the bottle of water you offered him. He was more relaxed now as he took a swing of the water, back against the wall behind you.

“How did we get here.” He almost whispered, putting the bottle down, never looking at you.

Next to him, you examined his features; the sweat rolling down his neck, his hair sticking to his forehead, the sad look in his hazel eyes. Turning your gaze back in front of you, you mimicked Mike leaning your back against the wall.

“I don't know.” was all you answered.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x gn!reader #mike schmidt oneshot #fnaf movie oneshot #mike schmidt angst #🍒ˎˊ library

[cowboylament]

“Is this alright?” He asked.

I nodded. 

He placed his hand down, nothing but warm hot skin. He slid only low enough to grab the blanket, dragging it back up over my arms and hovering there a moment like he wasn’t sure what to do now. When he pulled away I didn’t stop him. I forgot what it was like to be young, inexperienced. How much weight everything had, the touch of a hand, the place beside you in bed. I’d once spent hours thinking about it, how it would feel to get to sleep beside someone forever. To reach through the dark and grab the person beside you and curl into their body, to find such tender relief whenever you wanted. To be so hungry so long you didn’t even recognize it as need, as want. Not until that first reach where no matter what you imagined, how small you’d convinced yourself it was, you found your hands shaking. 

Or

Lucien has been lying Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Five, Bonus, Ao3

“I have news.”

Rhys had called both Lucien and me into his office. Where he’d managed to find my mate I didn’t know. It had been nearly two weeks since we’d slept on my bathroom floor. The only thing that had changed between now and then as far as I could tell was that the bond had reopened between us and unlike the time before our argument, his emotions surged through the tether throughout the day. Intense and complex emotions, not often recognizable to me until they diminished and I could see with greater clarity their edges, pull them apart, find the individual threads. There was such a weight to them I had seen only rarely. They knocked my knees out from under me, my breath. I don’t know what had changed, but suddenly his feelings were far bigger than they’d been before. 

He could have fooled me, however, sitting to my left so stoic. Had I seen him in the past few days I like to think I’d have at least asked if we were okay, if he was. Maybe not at first, not when I really wanted to, but eventually. With such feeling, I didn’t want him to hold it all on his own but we’d somehow found ourselves back again in the things we did after our fight—doors closing late at night, things going unsaid, the memory of a body, the fear it’s leaving. 

Rhys looked tired, but he laid the news outright. 

“I’ve claimed you, officially.”

Before I could speak a swath of grief, like a cloud passing over the sun, twisted inside of me. Waves of it pushed away thoughts and breath, and between crests, regret, suspicion, something hesitating and withdrawing, only to surge forward like the leaving could be undone. My words were obliterated, the male was fluctuating and balancing a hundred new degrees of feeling every second and the only thing that had changed in his appearance was the slight opening of his mouth. Though he remained alert, his gaze forward. 

“And my father is aware?” Lucien asked. 

“Yes.” 

Out in the hall, a door closed idly. For Beron to be aware of his son, to know his location during accusations of treason was a delicate game. Rhys must have played it very carefully these weeks. Such a burden sat on his face rather plainly, dragging it down, as if it were still there. 

“It took dozens of negotiations, he’s informed the other courts you’re a traitor who can’t be trusted. But to be honest,” Rhys continued, breaking only now to rub at his eyes, “his word will mean very little to most of them as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“I am,” Lucien said. His voice steady, but within there was a stir. Regret, grief unending, but not new grief. It was old, so old, like it had been born with him. Beron the cruelest, the eldest of the High Lords. His youngest son still gentle despite. What had been endured and remains to be endured?

“Normally I’d wait to negotiate with your father but, your brother said that the longer he sits on that night the greedier he’d get.”

My attention shifted away from my mate. Greedier, negotiate, those were specific word choices. I took in a long breath, clearing away any lingering fog of foreign emotions and temporary blindness. This was something I myself had not considered, that Beron wouldn’t become greedy, he already was. The High Lord of Autumn was not rash, not rash enough to invade when he found out where his son was. What were the choices for Beron, truly? Wage a war, lose males, or gain leverage. A blind spot on my part, how foolish I’d been, to have labored under such illusions and fear for so long. War wasn’t imminent. Beron knew for some reason we wanted Lucien, and he’d work out something had to have happened for us to want to fight for him. He didn’t have to know what it was to have guessed it was dire, our need.

We’d given ourselves away.

What could he demand, what did he feel that he was allowed now that we’d given ourselves away? He was cunning, calculated. He’d always wanted power, specifically power over us. My stomach clenched. The least loved son, a perfect token in his game. Beron had nothing to lose. 

The blessing he’d called for that night would mean little in this exchange. I’m sure the only thing it allowed for Rhysand to negotiate was against a war Beron didn’t want to fight anyway. You don’t come here and I won’t go there. It was the way it went, crimes against Prythian were greater than those against its females. There was no use in pretending otherwise, in languishing too long. 

Lucien relaxed back in his chair, unaware of the sickness climbing through my bones, and asked, “What are the terms?”

“As you have known, you will lose your title and you cannot go back to Autumn court. If you do, Beron has sworn a blood duel.”

Lucien crossed his leg over the other, “I’ve no desire to ever see that place again.” 

My own growing grief at once enveloped me, reaching further than my body, reaching out. The strength broke Lucien’s composure. He glanced over at me and I at him. There was no need for either of us to say what we were thinking, he knew what I wanted to give. The irreplaceable thing he’d had almost two months ago, taken in the middle of the night like nothing. I knew that he had always wanted to leave his home, that the loss was always meant to come for him eventually. But I knew something about loss too, about the things we cannot have back. The family you make will never be the family you had, that is their blessing and their curse. So I grieved for him, for what he’d lost and what he’d never had to begin with. 

Rhysand remained wholly ignorant of the private feelings between us, but waited to speak until we turned away from one another.

“He also agreed not to declare war.” 

Whatever Lucien anticipated, this was better. His relief came light but demolishing, easy like a gust, as it moved through my body. I forced in place his feelings like a veil over my own, hiding my wound. It soothed what was rotting within me momentarily, but could not clear entirely the lingering scent. Lucien would never see his home and I could scarcely know it even if I went without him. If I were to go, it would be by force. 

I stilled. A panic ripped through me.

 Life for life. 

The veil was gone. 

Those were Lucien’s terms, but what of mine? I had broken the one rule I knew with Beron I could never break. 

A thin coat of sweat settled against my back. Beron had wanted one thing from me. He could still ask for it. The truly deplorable males, those weak worthless males he called sons, could be betrothed to me. I would not have Eris, I had lost any chance with Eris. I’d live in that house with him, the male who’d cut away at me, next to those woods blood had been shed in. And none of the terrible details would matter because I would go. They wouldn’t even have to ask twice, I would go. Not because of the bargain between some nameless God, but for my mate. He deserves it. He’d given his life, so I’d give mine. I’d hunger for an immortal lifetime.

I found at last the words I’d had before, “What are my conditions?”

Rhys was silent, Lucien too. The thing inside us both had gone still. Lucien wasn’t naive, but in a moment of such intensity, he’d made the mistake of thinking we were lucky. This world didn’t work that way. There was perhaps only one thing Beron hated more than his youngest son. Such despair, such blinding terror clawing its way up my legs, into my heart. I don’t know if I could see the world. I think the fear had reached my eyes by then.

“You are to go to Autumn as an emissary on all future endeavors. You will remain the point of contact and we are forbidden from sending anyone else with you.” Just hearing the first half of his sentence had turned my stomach to lead, made me flinch. I was waiting to hear the word bride, but then he said it, Emissary. I was the point of contact still. That meant I was still Night Court. I forced myself to be present, to listen to the whole of his words. 

“We also cannot prosecute him for the blessing,” even sat down my legs felt weak. I suspected this. I knew this. No war. Rhys opened his mouth with finality, “If we speak of the events to anyone who does not already know, the bargain is void. Lucien will die.”

I gripped the chair. It was like being born again, my relief. Whatever lingering fear had found itself between my ribs and my joints, was washed clean away. I could have wept, such profound relief it rubbed my insides raw. The price was silence. The price was denial. A scar wrapping around my waist like an unwanted hand, the delicate body, the flimsy memory—our only proof it had happened. And even that would vanish eventually into the dust seen only when it passed through sunlight. But we were free and for such a price. Such blind spots, what greater prize to Beron was there than a silenced female. 

“So he gets away with it?” Lucien barked. Rage flared between us to the point that it forced Lucien to his feet. I was not yet strong enough to manage, not yet in my body entirely. 

“We both do,” I said. This was a gift of many meanings. I got to stay here with my family, keep what I’d won. The power to choose, I could marry or not marry, I could stay or go. My mate, he was granted the same. Happiness came wrapped in sorrow. My bargain had been finished. He was no longer in danger. The price had been paid. Lucien could go as he’d always meant to, somewhere he truly loved, and I wasn’t afraid of him leaving anymore. Prythian had opened for him, thanks to Rhysand. My brother did what I would never have had the power to do. Though I had gotten Lucien to safety Rhys would be his savior. 

Lucien’s hand gestured out in front of him like the memory was before us plain to see, his exasperation in every word, “We acted in self-defense it’s hardly the same.”

I shook my head, “Not to Beron.”

Rhys nodded and gestured for my mate to sit. For the rest of the hour, he explained to us what had been happening these weeks of correspondence. How Beron was growing stricter, less malleable to any negotiation. He had asked for a life, but somehow he’d been persuaded to avoid more bloodshed. I did not push for details, it was a terrible business, having to delegate pain and suffering. I placed no blame on Rhys, what hands he had to play for this outcome. I could see it though, how Eris had been right. If we waited too long the price would only increase. Rhys was backed into a corner, he had to agree. No matter the justice he wanted for me he could see the alternative I had seen too, he could see what was so close to being asked. He did not have to say this, we looked at each other after all had been shared, all that could be shared, and we both were aware of what the other knew. Lucien opened his mouth, not doubt to argue our side, but I spoke first. 

“If you have yet to agree, agree to the terms. That night is over and with good reason.” 

I didn’t want to return to that court or its memory. Anyone who needed to know already did. We’d moved on from that place better than we had been before, no longer so hostile or cruel, needing always to have something over the other and trying to win. I was glad to move on, even if moving on meant losing Lucien. I didn’t want him to go, but I had already gotten so much of what I wanted. And regardless, some things were more important. There were fates I could stomach even less, like his being somewhere that made him unhappy. I would not cage him. He loved leaving and I loved staying. Now his life was safer than it had ever been, to do what he’d always wanted. That was something to live for.

Whatever lingering fear I’d been holding onto in all these weeks emptied out of me with such intensity I started to shake. A different kind of crumbling, happy but sad, grateful and grieving. Lucien, to his credit, swallowed his argument, even as a foreign anger clawed at my chest like it could feel the immense relief flooding through me and wanted to sink its teeth in.

My brother, I had no doubt, understood this would be my choice. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here. He’d be arguing to Lucien’s point with a male who would never bend. He’d just wanted to be sure. The grave look on the High Lord’s face was the realization I’d already had many weeks ago. That night was always going to be my burden to bear. 

“I’m sorry,” he offered. 

I stood, turning from Lucien. He had my brother’s protection now. My presence would be redundant. I fought the enormity of my sorrow and my ambivalence to his departure. I had to get away, let it out, or I would start to drown in it, lose air, and composure. But I had one thing left to do, I had to put Rhys at ease. I had to be at ease for that to happen. That was always my work, I had to go first.

“There is no apology needed. That male will succumb to the life he lived.”

Rhys began to fumble with his desk. There was nothing he could do and he would suffer for it. I could not help him, could not pull him from his mind, the what if, the hand he hadn’t been dealt. That was his burden. So instead I slunk into his mind and said: thank you.

I hoped he could feel how much I meant it. I wish he knew that this was also a gift.

When he pulled out his ink, wordlessly I made to leave. Lucien trailed behind just as silently. With each step it became clear the level of erosion that had happened these weeks. I hadn’t even known how much worry there really had been inside me until it was gone. It had weakened me. I didn’t know if I could stand, could support the weight of the reality that took its place. I slipped into the library across and stumbled forward, clutching onto the couch, and waited for that door to close, the front door, waited for the tightness in the chest of someone far away and stretched thin, but there.

Someone entered the library and I righted.

“Y/N” Lucien said.

I pressed my hand to the heat of my face, covering my eyes. The one time he thought to say goodbye.

“Will I see you at dinner?” I asked, keeping my back to him. “Or are you going now.”

“I can stay.”

I nodded, “But you don’t have to. Not anymore.”

“I want—” his sentence ceased. Whatever it was he wanted, whatever fell at the end of those words either he didn’t know or didn’t want to say. There was a long pause, a probing gaze, before his hand ghosted my shoulder, but I pulled away. If he was even a little kind to me I’d break. I’d beg him not to go and that was worse than saying nothing. He’d stay just because I asked, because he was loyal to people even when they didn’t deserve it, and then I’d never know if I deserved it. Not when I caged him in a different way. So that was it, this was it. I took two long breaths, caught air, steeled myself as I had before, and turned to face him. 

“I want you to go.”

I knew there was a chance saying that would lead him to lash out in his anger, as he had that night we’d fought. Where for some unknowable reason he’d felt unwanted by me when I was trying to convey the precise opposite. But I could feel something had changed between us now that he stood before me, its occurrence happening maybe over the last few days without our participation. We were no longer fighting each other. Not at least, how we’d always been fighting each other. He stared at me in thought, the sounds of a clock somewhere in the room ticking. Today he didn’t seem far away, he seemed so close.

“I can feel you,” he said simply. “And I have the sense if I go you’re going to fall apart.” 

“I don’t wish to keep you.”

“Nothing is keeping me here besides my desire. Now, please, explain to me what’s going on.”

I shook my head, “If you don’t know then maybe that’s the Mother’s will.”

“No.” He was commanding in his tone, but still gentle. So gentle that I looked up to meet his eye even as I felt my own go glassy, even though to do so would give me away. He studied me before he continued, looked in his way that really looks to consider the image before him entirely. “In your brother’s office, there was a moment of panic for you like that in the woods, and I want to understand why.” He paused then added somberly, “I was there that night too. I felt what you felt. So help me understand.”

I stared at my hands. Thin skin, over flexed muscle and bone, wrinkled where it seemed a long time ago, longer than a life, lips used to go. I blinked away any lingering moisture and dropped my gaze. I could not have it both ways, could not say he should have what he wanted but deny him the explanation he asked for. “Beron was going to ask that I be married to one of your brothers.”

“Okay.” He said calmly, still so gentle and attentive, “What do you know, what am I missing?”

“It's what he said that night. You remember?”

“Yes, but why would he, after everything, ask that?”

When I found his face again he wasn’t angry. Not even for what I’d implied earlier, as if the idea I wanted him away washed clean off of him. I think we’d stopped being angry when it came to matters of the heart. Honestly, it didn’t even feel like anger when we’d fought that night in the foyer, the way a kind animal will bite when injured. I think all along we’d only been scared, wounded. But there was no room, no time anymore, for something so self-indulgent. 

“Because there are rules that I have that you don’t, and I broke the one that with him I’m never allowed to break.”

“What?”

“I won,” I said plainly. “Not minorly or arbitrary, it was absolute. We got away and I had the last word.”

 There was something briefly there, on his face. A kind of denial I’d had those nights ago, where you realize you were so unknowingly close to danger. And it makes you sick, just the possibility of what might have happened if you behaved differently. How the alternative sits stark on your chest and you want to deny it all, give yourself a little distance, maybe find some reprieve, and remember what had really happened.

I explained, “A life for a life. He’d get the last say in mine, and then any power I had was free for him to command. You know this, you know why he wanted me for Eris.”

“I’d never let him.”

“I’d have accepted.” 

He was shielding from me again. I could tell. Nothing came through, not the thing that made him go pale or the force that seemed to send his body moving forward without the help of his legs. How he seemed to have been struck in the back. My shoulders slumped.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because you’re Lucien.”

He searched my face, but the answer wasn’t there. He was lost, the only thing that wasn’t adding up was why. Why any of it? In an attempt to hold myself upright, trying to seem sturdy and sure, I found everything caving inward. He could see that at least, my whole body his to understand, and he did. He stayed because he did, but right now he needed more. 

“It’s all the same. Why do you think I said those terrible things that night in the woods, blaming you, about ‘not letting you make commands?’ Or the lie about the wards. They couldn’t keep you here, I know you knew that, you’re not stupid.” I said throwing my hands up in irritation or maybe still fear. A fear that he hadn’t figured out what everything meant together, and he never would. So I said it outright, “I needed you to choose me. Just until today. Because I don’t have any power, Rhys does.”

“That's not true,” he said, voice slicing through the air with renewed command. 

“It’s true enough. Whatever power I have only works here. If Rhys didn’t like you, I knew my weight. I could persuade him to claim you. That is true nowhere else, I could protect you nowhere else if you left. How many High Lords could take on treason?”

Lucien, exasperated, stepped closer to me, “I had options.”

“I know,” I said, voice echoing. I could see the force with which my perspective met him. I watched each word strike like a fist. “I know that now. But you’re Lucien.” 

“So?” 

“So this was the only outcome that mattered to me, the one where you got out.”

“And what about you?”

“You’re not listening. I need you safe. I need you free. You’re my mate.” 

Then a real fist, my own, struck his chest, as if to show him who I was talking about, like he didn’t know. He grabbed my wrists, tight but not hard, and leaned down to meet me at eye level. His words were clear and desperate enough to straighten my spine.

“I’ve been out.”

“Not to me!” I said, meaning to be strong and clear like him, but what came out was broken and ridiculous. Like a wail. Whatever feelings were beginning to rise obliterated my forced composure, and revealed to him entirely the crumbling form I’d taken. All these weeks, the doors closing, the dread of the final door closing. The thought of him slaughtered, the thought of Beron killing my mate. It had eaten away at me, eaten my form and my fire, and any displeasure that could have been found in having to marry. Until at last the only thing that was left was the one thing that had always been true, even before I knew it: I needed him. 

Lucien’s face, finally, betrayed him. Pain, grief, soft eyes, sorrow carving out his fine beauty. Rough warm hands dropped mine to hold my face. He said, “Hey,” and it was so gentle, so sincere, that at last it broke me open. I cried. Cried for everything that had for weeks gone unsaid. For the pain of what could’ve been, for the relief that it wasn’t. I cried because he was safe and because for so long he wasn’t. We’d crossed a universe, I’d once thought. 

And now he would go and I would stay and whatever sorrow was there connected me to the world and its beauty. The fact that good things do happen here, and what we want is often difficult to predict, stranger up close, and hard to hold, but it’s there in our hands. As he was now in mine, clutching to his shirt as he tucked my head into the crook of his neck and moved me into him so I could fall apart. 

I don’t know how long he held me there, letting me cry into his fine shirt, but it felt like an age. I thought I’d cry until the new one came around, but suddenly I was empty of it all. I pulled away, and when I opened my eyes he was staring at me with such care if I had anything left I’d have cried more. The generosity he gave me. His hand moved the hair from my face like the night we’d come back, like the night in my room two weeks ago when he’d asked if I needed him and somehow I’d said yes. 

Curiosity drove me to do it, what I did next. He watched me, holding his breath. Two options seemed to present themselves to me as clearly as if they were spoken aloud. It would take one look—just one, and the distance which we existed now would feel too large where before it seemed so close. Though if I didn’t, we’d return from this closeness and go about our life as we always did. And I didn’t doubt that the moment would present itself again, but I didn’t know when. 

But I was curious, like I said. He’d chosen me when he walked through that library door and now finally, I got to choose him. So I let my eyes, in their peripheral, find his lips, and looked. 

To be so understood—Lucien’s hand slipped through my hair and rested against the back of my neck. My fists balled in his collar, and suddenly no one was going first, instead we went together.

Our lips met somewhere between need and the patience of wanting to know something. Lucien kissed with an urgency to feel everything, how I tasted, how I moved. Each opening and closing of his mouth seemed to be met in sync with my own like we knew each other but accidentally. He was precise where he kept himself, lingering in the firstness of it. A desire, despite our age, to keep it here, in this moment, until he knew me on purpose. 

And I knew with certainty unlike all the other softness, this was happening in our world and not the other I’d thought was close by. That it was never really another universe at all, but this one right here. The seam by which we slipped through had always been the old boundaries of us, where the tangibility of his kindness had been so potent it pushed me beyond myself and had made me brave. He made me want to be brave. 

Our knowing completed, the urgency changed. Our breaths picking up. I had curved into him, chest to chest, and maybe it was the fact I was on my tip toes, or his height, but our balance went as our need grew and we stumbled backward. He sacrificed one hand and gripped the bookshelf behind us, supporting us fully, the books rattling. Yet his other hold was unwavering, falling down my back, tucking our hips together for relief. If we fell, we fell together. There would no longer be any separation. 

His mouth didn’t trail away, didn’t meet my neck or press lingering kisses into my cheek. We moved like water: naturally and instinctual—anciently. So fluid, he was, his tongue slipping against my own. I almost didn’t notice, could’ve mistaken him for myself. 

When he pulled away I half expected the frenzy, but I found that the moment was complete. I wanted more and yet, not now, this was good and whole on its own. I might not have even known I had wanted if it weren’t for his grip on my body, the shelves pressing into my spine. We were panting like we’d been running to each other since the night we arrived. Perhaps in a way we had been, running and running and running but now we could finally rest. There was a premonition of wanting but for now, the satisfaction filled me, doubling in the presence of Lucien’s.

 I felt it then, the familiar moment his shield dropped. Our realization was mutual and simultaneous. He’s staying, and I need him. Our emotions intertwined seamlessly. Gratitude, longing, hope, happiness, grief, all of it tangled together—No. More woven than anything now. Both of our feelings, a seam down the middle like a choice, made like the space where one side of your body meets the other. 

I understood something now too, the feeling I’d had before, that bone that had been broken then set again. It was our power. His and mine meeting, no more fear, now we were together. There was only one place for it to go. 

“Where have you been?” I asked.

Lucien laughed and I understood how it sounded only after I said it. He didn’t immediately let go of me. His eyes just moved over my face, like it were the first time he was seeing it so close.

“I mean—I meant where do you go when you’re not here.”

The male stood up to his full height and I let go of him. He said simply, “You’ll know soon.”

Just then the house seemed to awaken around us and what had once seemed like a private moment between us became precariously full of others and their noise. I could feel the Cauldron and now the Mother, pulling me across Velaris. My answer inherently understood, just a little longer. The tension vanished, not without a final tug. They knew though, I was never so easily persuaded. 

Lucien backed away and gestured for the door. As I walked past I brushed my hand against his own. I let it hang there between us. He grabbed it, just the very tips of our fingers held to one another and kept in place the intimacy. I led him back, his chest pressing to my spine as we stood before the exit. I hesitated, turned the knob as slowly as I could. Metal ground against metal, his every breath pressing into me, each click prompting me to grip him tighter, become more aware of how it felt for him to be just there, to remember what it felt like to have the option not to leave at all. I took a breath, dropped his hand, and the door opened.

We slipped out into the hall and stood our normal distance. No one was there and I turned to my mate. It probably looked like our usual business, a standoff of wills and stubbornness. It probably was, still, in some kind of way. I crossed my arms and felt the tired and sadness of my eyes, even if I had cried and been kissed and had someone close who did understand what I meant.

Lucien stood, his arms at his side, face stoic but otherwise at ease. We were silent. I think everything had been said that, for now, needed to be said. Lucien reached up and brushed a lock of hair behind my shoulder. 

“I’m not going to visit Gawayn,” I admitted once the long beat of silence had passed.

“I know.”

The front door opened and I knew that whoever it was would see the redness of my eyes and know what had happened. I hoped though our scents had not mingled too much, or despite our separation, it could still be mistaken for living together. 

When Cassian stepped through the door it took him a minute to notice us. Though when he did, his brows creased with distress and understanding. It was obvious what I had done, what I had been told. I don’t doubt he was aware, if only because his silence was needed too. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” Lucien said. A new promise made with the understanding of the fear that had permeated the house in his absence. In any case, I appreciated the goodbye, even now knowing he’d no intention of leaving.

“Bye,” I said as he began to turn with more somberness than I meant. 

The male upon hearing the tone looked back. Slowly he leaned down and pressed a kiss on my cheek. I was stunned. Cassian too, seemed to be frozen with the moment. My mate though having all the tenderness in the world pulled away and only upon seeing my face, did he begin to smirk. It was one of genuine joy not because he’d bothered me or because he won anything by doing it. He’d wanted only to soothe that sadness he’d heard, and he had. So even if I wanted to be angry I couldn’t have.

“Cassian,” Lucien said, and passed the male before ducking out. 

The warrior and I remained locked into place, our mouths slightly agape as we stared. Heat reached my neck and face and I tried to find the answer, to say we’d never done that before or that it was all Lucien. Luckily, however, Cassian found the nerve. 

“Given the day you’re both having, we’ll let it slide.”

***

Azriel sat in the library, his back to the door and a knife in his hand. We were meant to convene at the house of wind for dinner. The reason unknown, but I suspected the deal with Beron had something to do with it. With the finery of his clothes, the weapon seemed to be the only thing out of place. I’d heard Lucien return as I was dressing and let myself believe he’d come home early for me more than the obligation. I liked thinking I was allowed such speculation now. Azriel didn’t turn at my entrance or pay much mind. He seemed, as usual, deep in an inner world to which I wondered if anyone but him had access. Even Rhysand, I suspect, was sometimes at a loss.

“Something planned for the evening or should I grab my own blade?” I asked.

“We made a pact did we not? If you don’t marry and I don’t marry then we would marry each other.”

His words recalled our night two weeks ago after the wine had truly taken its hold on us. A moment of somberness, the feeling that my mate was far away. Azriel had seen no one of interest, no one I could even attempt to talk him up to at the bar, so I’d offered the pact. In 500 years it would go into effect. 

I smiled, raising a brow, “So you need a blade?”

“I hear there’s some competition.”

Whistling from the hall could be heard, and I turned toward the male with a damning finger before he could show himself. Casual, cool, Cassian was unphased by the circumstances of his entrance to the room. His whistling didn’t falter and his gaze passed over me as if I were nothing more than a piece of furniture he’d seen a thousand times.

“You can’t keep a secret to save a life.”

Cassian shrugged, “I said I’d let it slide, not keep it secret. Azriel had a bet to collect and I’m a good friend.”

I crossed my arms, turning toward the shadow singer, “I thought you lost.”

But Cassian answered for him, “Just the one. We have to have a few going, otherwise, we’d have no cause to continue interfering.” He winked and made himself a drink, as unruffled as ever, and found a seat. 

I opened my mouth but three voices spoke in unison, “You’re wretched.” The males already knew what I was going to say. Proof, perhaps, that their bets were not badly or so arbitrarily placed. I remained silent thereafter.

We waited for Lucien. Rhysand had gone ahead earlier in the day. Something to do with Mor and Amren, matters in the library. I didn’t pay attention once the word Library had been uttered, but I did expect his guilt had made him want to get away for a while. If that were the case then we’d hear no more about it, not for a good hundred years if at all. Cassian and Azriel exchanged idle chatter and I tried to listen for the sounds of my mate down the hall, but the house yielded nothing to me. Just as it had that lunch I’d found him, the lingering anger of his morning a ward between us. I quirked a brow.

“Go get him,” Azriel pleaded, interrupting my thoughts. His head fell against the back of the couch with boredom. He was more aware than anyone ever of when we were too close to being late to arrive anywhere. 

“Why me?” 

“You’re his mate,” Cassian said. “If he’s undressed we have no desire to see.”

“I’m dressed,” Lucien said, appearing before us in the doorway, fixing a button on his sleeve. He looked at no one else. His gaze was already there against my face, knowing where I’d be somehow before turning the corner. It might have been the kissing, what I knew now, about how his body felt against mine, or that he too had chosen me, but warmth fell around me like a halo. My skin rose against it, like his very presence, just the sight of him, was power enough to pull me clear across the room. Life called to me in a thousand tiny ways. 

He looked happy. He felt happy, a surge of it constrained at my chest. It was so precise the feeling sunk itself into my being, marking it. An added layer of protection and memory, to recognize him in any life, once his happiness met mine. 

Cassian and Azriel must have noticed our staring, because without word between them, the two stood and loudly boasted about their going outside, about how noisy the city was, about what they wouldn’t be able to hear. When they wanted to they could be my best allies. Their footsteps trailed away and all it took was the sound of the door to snap us from our stupor. 

“I can help,” I said, nodding my head toward his hands, clumsily pulling at his sleeve.

“Please,” He raised his arm out, holding the pieces in place and I grabbed the weighty metal, hands shaking. I swallowed, Lucien’s smile in my peripheral, as I could see him watching my face, my neck. We shared a fondness it seemed for moments of gracelessness, the failure of all preternatural skill and reason. No longer a joy born of torment, but the revelation of each of our significance to the other. That we made each other nervous now, that we’d even reveal such a thing. How unwavering we’d once been. This a reminder that our lives were transforming, happening, and would continue to happen, with one another if we so chose.

“I’ll have to teach you to make the drop into the house of wind.”

He hummed, half paying attention. With a clearer voice he said once the words registered, “Mor taught me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Two weeks ago, after Rhys found us in the bathroom.”

“It took me two months to learn it properly. I’m surprised you didn’t come back with shattered ankles.”

“I’d have received no sympathy from you.”

I laughed and secured the button at last. No, he wouldn’t have. His hands reached for the sleeve, adjusting it, while his attention remained fixed on me. Our satisfaction of the afternoon was short-lived. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him just as soon as I saw him again, but unlike before I could tell from the way he was smiling that it would take great effort to pull away. The moment would last longer than I could manage and there were still things to be done. But the more I looked at him the more difficult it became, to convince myself to deny any wanting. I cared less and less about giving myself away to anyone, now that with Lucien I already had. I thought about how his hands would pull my hair from its pins, what it would mean if he ripped the seams of my dress, and when I tried to find embarrassment over who’d know what we’d done, I couldn’t find any care at all.

“We can be quick,” He lied.

“We could.”

We leaned in slow, a poor mimic to the juvenile delivery of before where now hiding was something in us that was enduring. His mouth moved against mine, flat, and for a moment I almost believed our lie. When his lips parted against mine, however, I realized there would never be enough lifetimes to answer the need I found waiting in his mouth. Thus, despite all consequences, I wanted for him to know everything immediately.

My body opened for him. His thigh pressed between my legs parting them with little effort.

He ran the length of my exposed spine, fingers grazing, feeling rolling over bone and pressing into the spaces between them. He settled himself dipping only the knuckle below the low hemmed back but reached no further. We’d barely any control before, but whatever was there that morning had ceased. I closed my legs around him. 

A hum of pleasure escaped him, rich but quiet. It vibrated in my throat and I knew unequivocally that it belonged to me. I held his pleasure in my mouth. His desperation didn’t waver any control he had in his movements. I let no noise escape, not as his thigh pressed further into me, or as my mouth fell open with the sudden relief. Stifling any proof of his effect on me only made Lucien more desperate to hear it. His lips trailed away to make space for my voice, his hands worked harder, moved to my breasts, and revealed his need. He wanted me to moan, but the advantage was mine, having had to be utterly silent so often in this house where ears lingered nearby. He, however, cared little for who heard. How precarious we’d become, how tightly we’d been wound. 

A different tug, one from another direction, began to snag on me. Its own need was familiar. The tension between myself and the rest of the world with its obligations was the only reason I had not fallen entirely into him. This way, take him. We had to go, had to eat. He took my earlobe in his mouth. I grabbed his wrists, holding him in place. 

He whispered, suddenly conscious of the volume with which we wanted each other, “Be good.”

“I can’t.” 

He shifted his leg, pressing his thigh into me again harder. I gasped and closed my legs against him tighter. “I know,” He said. 

My hold became flimsy, even the tiniest movement, the craning of his neck, the shift of his eyes, encased me and released me. As if the echo of my relief returned as, and reinforced, my desire. He watched, attentive as he learned just what he could do. He withdrew from my failing grip and grabbed my waist. Against his thigh, he guided me. His attention was acute and unbreakable, watching my mouth from which I revealed nothing.

He leaned in, placing a lazy kiss along my cheekbone, before he whispered, “You’re going to make me beg aren’t you.” 

It was the only game I could play for now. He knew this and he knew what he was doing to me. The heat pooling under the skin, between my legs—he knew what I felt and needed no sound to tell him so. The answer was so obvious everywhere else. I tried, then, to press harder into him, to find more release, but he held firm, withdrawing with a raised brow. 

In my desperation, where he was stern and commanding I was clumsier. My jaw slack, eyes half open, I knew though, he was desperate too. The need was too heavy to feign anything exceptionally well. We had to give it all away.

He dragged his eyes across my neck, landed on my pulse, and replaced his gaze with his mouth. He nudged my head upward for access, but I’d have given it to him anyway. He ran his tongue flat along the skin before he sucked harshly. One of his hands pressed me into him, moving me as he liked, moving me so he could have me as he wanted. It was an authority he wielded easily. The warmth of him, just the curve of his chest against mine relieved me of something I’d needed my whole life that even had I wanted him to stop, if I were afraid he’d leave a mark, I’d have said nothing. His every gesture answered a question I did not know I was asking. 

It had never been like this. The ease of movement, the knowledge of a body you’d never seen, never quite touched before. He knew where I wanted him. So when he pressed a light kiss where he’d left a purpling bruise no amount of practice silence could keep the whimper that fell from my mouth. 

His laugh, weighed with everything he desired, slid between us to the floor. His amusement heavy on my skin, “Pathetic.” 

It was the only thing that could pull him from his control, an insult, a tease. This dominance he felt to be his was too sure and unchallenged. I shifted his hips against mine and he moaned. I was surprised he let me, the wretch. He grabbed my wrists and pulled them behind my back and leaning with the momentum he gently placed a kiss on my shoulder where his lips landed. Before I found him in my bed I’d have what it was I needed to win this kind of game. I’d know how to make him beg. But for now, I’d play this hand. I had no other choice. Or more likely, I didn’t have the will to find the other choices with the length of him press against me through his pants.

“How can we stop?” I said aware it would not be so simple. Unlike this morning the Illyrians were outside waiting. We only had so much time.

Lucien’s fingers tensed but released. Trust was not the reason for his withdrawal, but I kept them behind my back anyway. If he thought I could behave it could be to my advantage later. Such fun it had once been, the new irritation we might inspire in each other. 

He turned his head, idly resting his cheek on my shoulder, thinking. I was not so easily fooled. With predatory slowness he crept forward, pulling me back toward his lips. There was a precision to the hold, I would not move unless he willed it. 

“I have an idea,” He bit at my ear. 

“What?”

“You’re not gonna like it.”

His voice was almost melodic like he was humming the words, taunting still. A ghost of a smile, twin to his own had just begun to move along my face when Lucien’s teeth sank into me. The thin skin below my ear gave way, easily, as if warped by the heat of him. Yet unlike the inclination of all other injury, my body relaxed into his hold—so aware of the safety, so sure he wouldn’t hurt me. My eyes closed, but by the time I smelled blood, felt his tongue lap at the skin, those instincts retreated in again. I pressed both hands at his chest and shoved. 

He fell easily back and stumbled into the low table behind him. The furniture loudly slid away, scraping across the floor. The world stilled, waiting. He recovered with ease, wiping at his mouth. Something wicked settled on his face. Yes, I’d need to learn to play this game expertly. Such pleasure on those features, waiting for a challenge, waiting to dole out punishment. Like he’d been planning this for far too long. He ran his tongue along his lips and arched a brow. Don’t you play anymore? A dare. He needed only a glance to say it. 

So I lunged for him. 

In a moment of brute rage and lack of thought, my arms wrapped around his waist and my head hit his stomach. His breath hitched as we launched backward onto the table he’d just managed to right himself from. Tight, warm, and familiar arms, grabbed for me and I was pressed securely against him as we fell. The perfected silence was broken first by the splintering of wood, the shattering of glass, and then a laugh. The loudest most joyous laugh I’d ever heard from him. Pure and mine, unwavering, even as we landed. Even as I lifted from his hold, gripped his hair in my hand, yanked his head to the side, and bit back.

Cassian and Azriel barreled in just as I’d withdrawn, “You’re a miserable pig.”

I could taste his blood in my mouth. Lucien didn’t move just kept that genuine joy, boyish even in his amusement at the chaos. Not miserable at all. His eyes brightened as he looked at my mouth. I could see on his face what wasn’t said. Good girl. I gripped his hair harder and he hissed before I was lifted off my mate. The both of us righting ourselves, I pulled from Azriel’s grip once we were standing. 

“I hope you keep your promises,” Lucien said coolly as if the two males weren’t even there.  

“You never fail to be insufferable,” I snapped.

“I learned from my mate.”

All words failed Cassian and Azriel as they looked between the two of us, to the table now in ruins. They did not at once notice the claim, but I’m sure they smelled blood. Their sharp gazes continued to assess, trying to piece together our tension, looking for a wound, yet missing it all the same. The pair exchanged glances, their mouths open in unsaid questions, unsure of what to do, of who to speak to. The room was silent aside from the heaved breathing coming from Lucien and my chest which thus became almost an oppressive sound. And just as it seemed they were about to ask, I saw it. A sharp inhale, they stood up straighter in near sync. Their eyes drew to our necks, knowing. 

The two blinked, wide-eyed. 

Behind the smell of blood, the claims had caused our scents to mix.

Azriel sucked in his cheeks and turned his back to us. His shoulders shook. Bastards, all of them. It was Cassian’s drawl, however, that lazy amusement that fell out of him with such speed and ease that bothered me most. I clenched my fists before the words had even registered. 

“Are you flying with me or does another male have claim over you?” 

“Fuck off,” I said pushing through the group and moving to the door, Cassian’s wide smile no doubt unfaltering. “And get to the house of wind!”

Rhys was waiting for us when we arrived. The fight had made us late. I’d let everyone go first, hoping both to delay the inevitable and to arrive at the house to find Lucien had shattered his ankles. I could slap him. I was not, at that point, prepared to give him credit, but it was true that his idea made going to dinner far more plausible. All need or want for him vanished. But I remembered how it felt, the weight of his hands, where there’d been everything, where there was absence. I remembered all of it. 

Cassian was waiting, and as I landed he walked toward me still as casual as ever. The three males displayed a united pride, endlessly and forever amused by their own worst behavior. Even Azriel, before he’d taken flight, had laughed loudly to the murmured gesture of Cassian. Lucien was waiting unruffled, not a scratch or tear in his clothes—he’d landed perfectly. Two weeks he’d said. I narrowed my eyes. Leaning against the railing he was separated from a long fall. I said nothing. 

“What took you so long?” Rhys asked.

Cassian mused casually, “Oh the usual, these two at each other’s necks.”

“Pathetic, all of you males,” I hissed. The words bounced back at us, even the echo had power. I didn’t even acknowledge Rhys as I passed him. A sharp crease formed in his brow at my sudden hostility. He’d see it eventually. I had no doubt dinner would be a riot to them all into the centuries to come. It would rival even that of the winter in the cabin. No one, though, would find it as funny as Cassian did tonight. 

Rhysand’s bewildered voice floated over to me just barely as I hit the stairs. “What did we do?”

Azriel laughed, “Oh, it’s not what we did, it's what Lucien did.”

***

At dawn the next morning I was awake. I probably didn’t need to be up that early, the village just a winnow away, but it was getting cold. I liked thinking that, for some, this morning would be warmer than the last. I rubbed at my eyes lying there, listening to see if Cassian had risen. Downstairs, the kitchen had movement, plates clinked, so he’d be leaving soon. He was probably already dressed, his own plans to attend. Despite last night, I was glad he was to accompany me, if only until the next morning. The company would be good. Then I’d have all that time to plan. 

The morning light had softened the dark of my room into a nice blue. I stared at the ceiling, not quite ready to move, and ran my fingers absently over the mark on my neck that ached. Last night we’d said our goodbyes, briefly and in secret, with very few words. I’d winnowed into his room, all smugness having vanished, and managed a chaste kiss goodnight. He asked after my plans and I reiterated them and then I was gone. There was no need to linger. There were more answers now than questions. 

I rubbed at my eyes, stretched my arms across the expanse of my bed, and rested my hand on something woolen. It startled me enough that I withdrew like I’d been burned. I sat up. No one else was here. I hadn’t woken, hadn’t heard the wraiths or Rhys or anyone come in to check I was ready and up. I peered into the bathroom but it held no life. The cold air bit at me through my clothes, the blankets falling away, but I reached for the folded wool again on the other side of my bed. I dragged it slowly into my lap, already beginning to understand what it was. 

It was deep green like an endless grassy hill or the leaves when light passes through them on the last days of summer. A scarf, a knit one had been carefully laid along my bed, folded with gentle care in wait. I squeezed the yarn in circles between my fingers, feeling the weight, the thickness of it, and found a hole. I paused, an easy mistake, anyone might make it. I had a thousand times. One finger slipped through it, stark against the green. I wiggled it back and forth, feeling the looseness, feeling for the nothing. The hole was slight, but the stitches around it warped and adjusted to fit the mistake. 

I held the thing up to look at all of it, to scan the rows. Beside me, a tag fell out against the blankets. Even through the dim, even not knowing it, I knew the script to whom the note had once belonged.

To cover the bite.

—Me 

I picked the scarf up, pressed it into my face, and inhaled. It smelled just as it looked, like sunlight over an autumn grass. It smelled like Egrette’s. The night classes. I smiled into the yarn, foolish. I almost wished to wake him, to say now, I know where you’ve been. All my suffering, only for him to be in Velaris, at the classes I’d suggested, learning to make with his hands.

A thread pulled inside of me and I let it move me down the stairs. I didn’t knock, didn’t even check if he was awake. I pushed open the door and there he was, sitting as if he expected me. He was already smiling, at ease with the world. I didn’t let him ask, I knew he wouldn’t. I cut through the quiet morning with a demand. 

“Change of plans.”

Rhysand’s smile grew. 

***

The cold was bitter up here. The inhabitants too. The females who’d I’d been in correspondence over the years were at least warm and welcoming. They were motherly in the way I had once imagined my own mother would be once I’d gotten to adulthood. Time had passed and I could say the things at one time I hadn’t always been able to say. I could complain about males with blanket statements and we would all roll our eyes, only for them to, in jest, try and set me up with their sons. They let an hour go by before they teased me about my scarf indoors. Somehow knowing, as mothers always tend to.

After a cup of tea and some food, I bid them farewell, promising to come the next month with more to give. Outside the village was rather quiet compared to the last visit I’d had at the end of summer. I’d not seen Cassian all morning, he apparently going first to a camp not far from here. Some snow has fallen, light flakes, barely enough to cover the ground, but a few caught on my eyelashes, their size growing. I was rubbing them away when my name cut through the weathered stillness.

Gawayn appeared from behind, hands in his pockets, wings tucked in tight, fighting against the wind and cold. He was a handsome male to be sure, tall and leaner than the others. He didn’t pack on the same muscles as everyone else which had made me like him.

“Rumors were going ‘round saying you were injured,” He said once he was close. “You alright?”

I wondered for a brief moment if it would matter that an Illyrian knew. Who could he tell? For so long he’d been a kind of savior for this reason. There was mutual confidentiality, a desire to keep things between us that some people kept only because they were afraid of Rhysand. I’d come to him and tell him what I felt I could, show him maybe something I was afraid of in myself, and he’d take it without word or echo. There was an old way of moving, of thinking, that leaned toward him. But that was over now, at least in some ways. 

“Terrible sword incident. Cut my side.” Beron wasn’t one to count Illyrians for anything, but a deal was a precarious deal and just the idea of risking anything made my heart strain, causing a panic to settle between my bones again. Even the shadows shuttered. I braved the cold air and moved my clothes to reveal the scar. He frowned then let out a low whistle. 

“If it didn’t heal it had to be bad.”

“Bad enough.” 

His face relaxed some despite the subject and he smiled slightly, all sweetness, “You should’ve come here I’d have taken good care of you.”

“I had good company.”

“How many times did they tell you the story of the 10,000 steps.”

“Less than a dozen but more than a handful.”

“I can venture to guess that it must have been an extraordinary wound rather than exceptional company that I didn’t see you.”

“I was bedridden, believe me, I’d have liked to get away. Not that you could do anything I hear you’re busy these days. Rhys sends his regards.”

He rolled his eyes, a slight break in the tension, “Your brother is having a riot I’m sure. I don’t suppose now would be the time to exercise your talent for persuasion.” 

“And how might I persuade him for your bedding me and lying about it?” I said crossing my arms.

“Well for one thing we bedded each other and we’ve been doing so for years without getting caught.”

“This is the angle you’re going to take, that you’ve been fucking his sister for a century in secret?”

“Rhys should be impressed by my stealth and quick thinking and use it to his advantage.”

“I don’t think he’ll see it that way.”

“I can’t do your job for you.”

I waved a hand, “Let me mull it over and perhaps I can be of some use. I have no desire to be a bother to you if you can believe it.”

“I don’t believe it and you can always bother me.”

I smiled, “I know.” 

That was it, what I’d once needed. This intimacy, the knowing, a weight that almost satisfied. There was a new need within me, but I wanted to appreciate what had once been enough. This friend of my own, this place to practice being. One more time I would feel it, our small intimacy, before anything had been said. How enormous it was in hindsight, what it made me able now to do.

“I’m guessing by your guilt you’re the reason we’ve been caught.”

I scrunched my nose and nodded, “They overheard me telling someone.”

“Figures, you’re a loud drunk,” He mused with a certain fondness. “Who’d you finally own up to, Mor?” 

My shoulders straightened but my mouth pulled into a smile, a rare bashfulness that made me think I’d have to turn away if my feelings got any larger. I knew though regardless the behavior said everything that for now could not be said. The words I had at my disposal were too narrow, friend wasn’t right, but mate seemed despite its rarity even less the word I’d use. The one that remained had to first go to Lucien before it was said aloud to anyone else. 

Gawayn noticed my silence and smiled slightly, arching a brow. His demeanor lifted with a little mischief. “So that’s where you’ve been.” 

I nodded, “Partially, yes.” 

“What’s his name?”

I blushed and had to turn away. He was everywhere, across the snowy peak, in the narrow between two trees. How he’d like it up here I think, among the leaves. Next fall I’d bring him. We could stay in the cabin and we wouldn’t have to see anyone else. It could be just us, as the nights went cold. We’d have to come early when it was still warm in Velaris. Yes, who knows what we’d become by then, but I should think I would be able to ask that of him. 

I turned back to see Gawayn still waiting, watching me intently. My every gesture revealed our fate at last had arrived. 

“Lucien.” 

“Will I meet him?”

“This one? Definitely.” 

His eyes brightened, “Is he nice.” 

I smiled.

“Is he handsome?”

“Stop it.”

A gust blew from behind. The scarf at my neck fell from its place on my shoulder opening it. I knew within an instant, as the cold touched the indents along my skin, pushing the new scent out to the world, that I’d been caught. The Illyrian’s brows lifted into his hairline.

“Any chance this is the same male that put a claim on you.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Yes.”

“Is he brave or stupid?” 

I shrugged.

Gawayn shook his head again, now halfway amused, “I can’t imagine anyone brave enough.”

“My mate might be, but it remains to be seen.”

He didn’t at first seem to process the words I’d said. The confusion came delayed in the wrinkle of his forehead, the downturn of his mouth. He looked me up and down like he could find some distinction he’d not noticed as he’d arrived, one that would reveal to him the truth of my circumstance.

“You’re mated?”

I smiled coolly, “More or less.”

“When did this happen?”

“50 years ago.” The male's eyes bulged and I laughed, “Circumstances have only recently changed.”

A small relief to him. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

I waved a hand, “Neither of us was particularly thrilled about the match.”

“And suddenly…”

“Yes.” 

Whatever he was holding back, if anything at all, at once peeled away. He let out a loud yell of joy, lunged for me, and launched us into the sky. I yelled over the roar of the wind but he didn’t hear, nor would he have cared. So I decided not to care either. I tucked my nose under the scarf, eyes watering from the force of the wind. He was screaming, cheering, for the Cauldron, and the Mother, for me. Below us, the inhabitants mulling about didn’t even flinch. The world got smaller as he arced upward and again something enormous revealed itself as we moved into that midday sun. This was my life. Good things had really happened. Someone was waiting for me to get home. For a small moment, I began to believe I’d earned it. So when Gawayn let out another howling cheer, I let out my own. 

We landed after ten minutes breathless, laughing, stumbling in the snow. He placed me down but the energy within him of truly earnest happiness scattered out of his very being and spilled into the space between us. Such feeling not just for me, but for who I’d become. And there it was, I could see it but couldn’t say where. Something had gone, and left behind in its wake, was my friend. 

“It’s well deserved,” He said, letting out a long sigh. “In case no one told you that. And I wasn’t just going to part with you for anyone you know.” 

“You’ve been looking out all this time?” I said mockingly.

Gawayn got suddenly a bit serious, “Of course. We’re friends aren’t we?”

“I like to think so.”

Someone called the Illyrain’s name and he looked over his shoulder and he waved them off for a moment before he turned back to me with a shrug. He had to go. 

“I’ll see you around. I’ve got stories you’d love to hear.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” I said.

“Don’t wait too long between visits next time, even if you’re injured,” He said walking away. “And don’t get me into any more trouble. Your brother is one thing but I’m too old and precious to be dealing with a mated male.”

“It keeps things interesting,” I yelled back and just before the wind was too loud for me to hear the laughter that came from his tilted head, he said,

“For you!”

I watched him until I could no longer see him. The sky held not a spec of red, nor the Illyrian it belonged. The cabin lay empty. I wrote a note to Cassian and walked outside. Snow was falling heavy now, enough to cover the grass. I did want to sit inside admittedly, curl up for the evening and watch the world go white, but something tugged. Things to do, as always. Just a winnow away, as always. I looked across the camp—no one in sight. Then I took one step through the crease in the universe and was gone. 

***

Even tucked into my scarf, the lashes of wind off the river proved bitter cold. Winter was imminent. I could feel its sting at my cheeks as I walked up the steps of the townhouse the morning I got home. If anyone was around, my arrival was well enough announced by the frantic shutting of the door in attempt to keep the cold out. From Rhysand’s office, the murmured voices of Amren and Azriel flitted through. Too muffled to make anything out, too boring for me to care anyway, I didn’t stop to say hello or snoop.

The wraiths were clearing the dining table, all chairs but my own were pulled out, plates dirty. They looked at each other, a small smile snagging between them before it vanished as easily as they could, as if it hadn’t been there at all. 

I understood then, what such knowing looked like. I tried to imagine how Lucien and I appeared to others, even before. Eyes narrowing, searching through a room and meeting, the pull of a mouth the nod of a head, so much said without a word. How no one guessed at the tether between us I will never know. Most people, I suppose, pay little attention. Up close, however, it becomes obvious the private moments constantly occurring between two people where only a silent look communicates an array of feelings. Even beyond the bond. 

The bets placed by our court produced a sudden and secret fondness then. There was something nice about it, the way they saw such a thing as proof of something good and sincere between us. The quickness, even playfully those years ago, that deemed our knowledge of each other to be born of some endearment. Who can resist such understanding? 

From this perspective, it would make you think such endings were inevitable. They knew what we’d do before we had, so they’d placed their bets. Let them win, I like knowing now that they were right. I watched the wraiths disappear. I liked also seeing such intimate knowledge on other people's faces, aware now we looked the same. 

I retreated to my room and stripped. The cold had reached my bones and being inside was not enough to remedy its settling. I ran a bath, letting my hand fall under the stream. Everything felt warm by comparison. When the water seemed just on the edge of scalding I plugged the drain, dumping contents in it at random. Something to relax, something to revive, something to brighten, any remedy went in. I waited for it to fill, the aroma already of some comfort, while standing before the mirror. The punctured skin at my neck had begun to inflame, just barely closed and healing. Surely something to do with magic, something to do with mates, to heal faster than my side but slower for fae. I ran my fingers over the ridges, recalling his tongue against my skin. My fingers grazed my ear—I turned, bent, and looked at the imprint of my spine.

My three days away had yielded nothing of my desire. I didn’t expect it to, not even when I’d originally planned to let my mind wander in the empty cabin. I’d thought about torturing Lucien, letting my emotions run rampant down the bond, but perhaps another time. It had not been totally worthless to give those three days up, in the end. 

Bargains are a precarious thing. 

My eyes dropped to the skin at my side where a burning had been and nodded at it, knowing no one was watching. 

I hissed as I sat down in the tub. The heat of the bath almost instantly subdued me. I’d be useless, if I were in danger I don’t think I’d have noticed. I draped my hair beyond the side and relinquished myself to the lethargy. There was so much to do, but there was time now to do it. Behind my eyelids, I could see it, that cold beneath my skin vanishing, running, as if chased away. The house settled and I listened to it, tried to find Lucien, stretched a hand down the bond, but didn’t tug.

A fern reached back, unfurling, wrapping around a table.

I saw the harvest. 

“Where’d you go?”

Lucien had appeared from nothing. I might have thought he’d just winnowed if the water's heat hadn’t cooled so substantially between one memory and the next. His smile, though slight, contained the amusement of having caught someone doing something. He’d been watching me a while then. Yes, I’d fallen asleep and he’d found me.

“Hm?” I fought the heaviness of my body, pulled from sleep. 

“You didn’t stay at the cabin.”

I shook my head.

“Where did you go?”

“Day court.”

“Why?” He asked.

I sighed, lifted my foot to turn the knob, and filled the end of the tub with a little more hot water, “To consult Helion’s library.”

“For Rhysand?”

“No, for myself.”

Lucien paused, surprised by my honesty. “Anything interesting?”

I shook my head again and rubbed the tired from my eyes. That had been a waste of time. I had not found what I wanted. The collection was too vast, I couldn’t narrow my search down well enough before I had to be back again. Even with the help of a few of the librarians there, we’d been fruitless. Helion was generous though, just for letting me in.

“Looking up Gods and folktales again?” My gaze snapped to his but he made no move. He let out a small huff of a laugh, “In the dining room you said your book wasn’t interesting.”

“It wasn’t.” I shut the water off. 

Lucien lifted from the door frame, “You say this topic is of little interest to you but you’ve read two other books on similar themes. It’s an easy guess.” He began to roll up his sleeves, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Observant, I thought, but didn’t say. I didn’t have the chance. His languid steps, the casual manner of his being, eradicated all sensible thought. My admiration of his usual beauty falling away into the homely devices he’d begun to reveal did not go unnoticed. His face didn’t show, but it passed between our ribs like a well-known secret. A sincerity threaded through some amusement which said despite his desire from how he’d found me he really did wish to help if he could. The sensation filled the emptiness of my chest. Yes, we were now doing things together. After a weekend of shielding, it was a fine feeling.

“It worked itself out.”

“Oh?” He grabbed the chair near the mirror and set it behind me. I didn’t look, skimming my hands over the top of the water watching it ripple. 

“At least until after solstice.”

“Why solstice?”

“We like to use that time to be together as a family. No distractions.”

“That's nice,” he said with a voice somewhat distant. I let our silence take the place of the grief between us. He pressed his warm fingers to my hairline and without a word instructed me to lean my head back. Warm water slipped through my hair and fell down my shoulders. I’d set some aside and I knew it was only still warm because Lucien willed it. I closed my eyes and focused on the feel of his hands, his fingers, running along my scalp. The hair beginning to weigh with its wetness, he grabbed a soap off the shelf nearby. When he stuck his hand in the bath to wet it I felt immediately the warmth increase as he took care of me, took care of everything. The soap lathered and the bath was so hot I thought I’d sleep again. 

“You’re tired,” he said.

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re being so compliant.”

His words, closer than before, tucked themselves along my neck. I could feel the smile he had and would have felt it had he said nothing. The quality of air, the shift of a draft, I knew when he was smiling the way you know your own mouth is. 

“I didn’t sleep well,” I said ignoring him.

“If you’re ever restless my door is open.”

“I might have accepted before.”

He laughed reminiscent of the teasing one he’d used before he’d made his claim. “Still mad are we? Think of the perks,” he took a sharp inhale, “you smell like me.”

“Like bastard?”

He tugged at the hair a little and my head angled back so I could see him fully, “Like me.”

“The scarf hid your stench. Somewhat counterproductive on your part.”

“Not in the slightest,” he cooed.

His words slid between us once more and I could no longer resist. I had enough slack from Lucien’s grip to turn my head slightly into him. Our noses nudged, his lips just barely apart from mine. One slight breath and I felt his exhale brush over my lips. Let's see, I thought. When he didn’t move to kiss me I leaned forward but the distance didn’t close. The ends of his mouth quirked up slightly when, on instinct, I leaned in further. His trick was revealed after our mouths didn’t meet again. He’d pulled away. He wasn’t going to let me kiss him, not unless I embarrassed myself first. I feigned a scowl and he sat back. 

“Egrette told me to tell you to visit again.”

“I take it her nephews are suddenly working fewer hours.”

I’d yet to have the chance to ask about the alliance they’d procured behind my back. It took little thought to put together the pieces, after the fact, of her lying about their coming to the shop to get me away. Lucien, no doubt, was in the backroom hiding in the event I came around. I’d been so concerned with the game Rhys was playing I hadn’t thought to look at the other boards. So it seemed we all had pieces we were moving both out in the open and in the wings. 

“She told me you didn’t like each other but who knew I had suitors to fight off. She spent half the weekend finally filling me in on that little history.”

I stilled momentarily, his fingers working through a tangle that had gathered at the base of my neck idly. “Is that what you did while I was away then? Spent your time with her laughing at my expense.”

A test.

“More or less.”

I smiled, the fool. “Well, if you’ve met them you can understand why I had no choice but to tell them you existed.”

“They seemed to think I was a real brute.”

“I’ve got stories.”

“Loudmouth.”

Lucien rinsed my hair again and wrung it in his fist. Water flooded his arms, dripping onto the floor, but he continued until it was damp before he let go. I flipped around and watched him, his sleeves clinging to him. I licked my lips and he noticed, content I suspected. No feeling revealed itself. 

I met his stare, narrowed my eyes. “I lied to you,” I said.

A test.

He didn’t flinch, “When.”

“I said I wasn’t going to visit Gawayn but I had a message to deliver from Rhys.”

“And?”

In my chest something rolled through, small and miniscule. Lucien’s mouth slightly agape. “He wants to meet you.”

“Good. I’d like to meet him too,” He said with the utmost sincerity before leaning in to place a kiss against my forehead. “I’ve just come to check on you. I’ve got to run.”

“Where?”

“Solstice gifts.”

I peered up at him where he now stood. From his place above me, the soap wouldn’t truly hide my figure. The water wasn’t opaque enough and he watched my eyes smiling like he knew this. He didn’t look away. He didn’t dare. 

“I’m glad you’re home,” he said.

“I’m glad you are too.”

After my bath, I found Mor in Rhysand’s office. My brother looked up only briefly.

“How was Helion?”

“Handsome, as usual. Mor,” I said turning to face my cousin. “When did you teach Lucien to do the drop into the house of wind?”

She thought a moment, “The morning after your fight.”

I tutted my tongue, kissed my teeth, “I’d have liked to see that.”

Yes, my mate was lying to me. 

***

The night before solstice I snuck into Lucien’s room. I continuously over the days offered up tests, opportunities for him to tell the truth, but he never did. Down the bond filtered small waves of emotion, endearment, amusement, joy, less grief than before, but still some. He was gone most days but so was I. He’d find me though, wherever I was, and before he left he’d kiss my cheek, tell me he’d see me that night and he always did. Even when he came home late he’d find me in my room, sit on my bed for a while, and talk, before disappearing again downstairs.

Meanwhile, Rhysand watched me with certain suspicion to which I could find no origin. He knew my plans had changed, knew why I’d gone to Day Court, and I suspect it left a certain impression on him. I couldn’t leave the house without coming home to an urgent string of questions at his hand. Something about where I’d been, something about solstice gifts, something about when I’d give him Lucien’s. 

“Here,” I’d finally said dropping the large parcel on his desk. 

“What's this?”

“Gift for Lucien.”

He peered up at me and let out a long breath. I could hear the disappointment but its cause was not revealed. “This is it?”

“It? It’s a rather big gift already no?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“What you discovered in Day Court.”

I tapped my fingers, “Nothing.”

“Will you go back?” He asked leaning in his chair. 

“I don’t need to.”

“Why?”

I didn’t reply. Those old folktales had offered only a shallow glance at the entities I was searching for, the answers I needed. Somewhere in the library I had no doubt that what I’d wanted would have been found, but everything visited and revealed itself with time, the right time. And the right time was not in Day Court. For Rhysand, there was a time for him to know what I’d learned too, but it wasn’t now. 

I smiled as we sat through the silence, letting him come to this same realization. That he would know what he needed to know when it was called for. His body slackened, his eyes dimming. I could guess his motivations.

I raised a brow, “What did you expect I was getting him for Solstice, Rhys? A ring?”

He scowled, looking away, damning himself and his cause. He’d placed his bet those weeks ago and I had little doubt of the answer he’d given. He believed I was going to be mated to Lucien by Solstice. When I told him of my reasons to visit Helion he must have suspected the library would yield an answer, or lack of one, that would be cause to bind Lucien and I to one another for the rest of our lives. It wasn’t a bad assumption I could admit. Everything had been going his way, he thought he was winning, but now, time was running out. 

“How much did you bet?”

If I would not answer, then he wouldn’t either. He stared at my neck and said with a grunt of disgust, “How long until that heals, you reek.”

So I left him in his office and climbed the stairs to my room slamming the door. It was good cover, I waited about half an hour until he retired for the evening before I winnowed to Lucien’s door. I was careful to move quietly, with Cassian sleeping across the way. I gave just one knock before I slipped in. I leaned against the wood, shutting the door silently behind me. Lucien sat on the bed, book in hand, his pants unbuttoned, his shirt discarded, The Forgotten Prythian read the spine. His face was laden with surprise.

“Didn’t expect I’d see you,” he said. 

“I can leave.” 

I  opened the door, but he was there, within one blink, pressing his palm flat overhead and shutting it silently again. Half caged in he peered down at me, mouth pulling into what, at another time, would’ve been an imperceptible smile.

“Don’t,” he teased. 

“I wouldn’t wish to impose.”

“Aren’t you precious.”

“You didn’t find me today so one is free to assume.”

He leaned forward, “Y/N, please.” His voice surprisingly desperate, as if he thought I really would leave. “I want you here.”

The thread between us was quiet. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar. My mind repeated, even as I turned my head and let him nuzzle into my neck. I ran my hands through his hair, stroking idle pattern. His tired seeped out of him, the weight of his body growing as he used me for support. It is a long game, keeping up such antics. Did he know, like I knew, that we couldn’t continue this way? What he wouldn’t say I would surely find. 

Over his shoulder, I took in his room. Had I come here earlier I might have been less inclined to believe he was on the verge of leaving Velaris. The closet was well-kept, clothes of all his best colors hung with care. Heavy sweaters in deep reds, light shirts made for summer. On the windowsill, the glass open ever so slightly, books were stacked somewhat haphazardly. They seemed to be borrowed, or else, he’d been recently flipping through them because a few others were set on his desk with greater care. 

He hooked his fingers in a strap, dragging it up my shoulder where I hadn’t noticed it had fallen off. He kissed the thin material and pulled back, holding me by my hips at a distance.

“It’s not as I pictured it.”

“What?”

“The dress.”

I looked down, it was the one I’d bought with Mor that afternoon Lucien threatened to claim me. My neck burned with the memory. I wore it with the intention of distraction. I wanted to use his maleness to my advantage. It was too cold otherwise, but I knew his skin was warm. I’d learned that more than once.

“Mor told you?”

“I asked.”

“Why not ask me?”

“Because I wanted to know what became of your little outing after I begged Mor to get you out of this damned house.”

I dropped my hands from him. I’d believed it to be Rhysand, or Mor alone, that had interrupted us that afternoon. Her questions then made sense, if Lucien was so curious about the books I was reading then I’m sure he caught my lie once she’d told it back to him. Another ally revealed, moves from the wings, while I was distracted by my sorrow. 

“You were brooding so terribly over our fight still and Egrette was occupied so I asked her to take you outside,” Lucien said. A smile began to form slightly, “I might have suggested too she buy you something that would tear away easily.”

“You’re vile.”

“I’m kidding,” he said. “I didn’t care where she took you. As long as it wasn’t here.”

So he was capable of telling the truth still, at least when he wanted to.

I crossed my arms, “Doubtful.”

“I have no intention of bedding you in a house full of Illyrians.”

“But you do wish to bed me?” 

He smiled, confirmation enough. He was right, not in a house of Illyrians and neither with the lies between us. 

I pulled from his hands, the topic a good distraction, and walked toward the desk. He’d blushed when the moon had passed through my pajamas before. What, by this light, would my body do to him? I felt with acute precision his watching me, but still, he didn’t stop me. Not even as I got close enough to see the scattered papers on his desk, with the same script as a gift tag I found in my bed. My hand slid along the fine wood. Names, names I didn’t know, were scratched haphazardly. 

I couldn’t look long enough. I didn’t want him to notice. He was smart, even distracted.  

He surprised me, however, when I turned around. I expected something heavy and needy, but his mouth had formed such a careful curve, his features softened, as he leaned against the door admiring. I’d seen him happy, joyful, but never like this and it made the emotion difficult to place. The bond revealed nothing. 

I would’ve teased him, but in the low light his skin looked golden and it occurred to me with greater clarity, beyond my ambition, how I’d found him. He was at ease with the world in a room that was his. His warm chest exposed, he was undressed. It was a different desire entirely, to notice him, to look. He was so beautiful, so mine. To think that I was in this bedroom, that I knew I’d lie in that bed beside him and sleep, it filled me with warmth, it made me soften back.

He yawned.

“You’re tired.”

He nodded.

“Let's sleep.”

“Just sleep?”

I smiled. I turned away. I needed more answers. If he wouldn’t tell the truth, then I would find it on my own. My eyes fell on a list of names, I didn’t have long enough to scan them all, just the first letters. I found E, the fourth name on the list began with E. I read. My stomach dropped, my heart picked up speed, but I turned still to face him again in the hopes the new voraciousness against my ribs would be mistaken for nervousness. He looked fondly. Had he always been so easy to fool?

I held my hand to him and said, “Yes.” 

He approached without question.

It was easy with him there to find my composure. He kissed the top of my hand. We separated only to find our side of the bed. In unison, the sheets were pulled back, but he did not immediately join me. The last of the lights needed to be put out, and only then did I see the shadowed outline of him pull his pants off the rest away. If he’d had asked me to close my eyes I would’ve. If he’d asked me to watch I would’ve. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, as he climbed into bed I sensed again the need to keep things in something innocent and first. He did not move toward me, but he laid on his side and we faced each other, hands tucked under our heads.

“Happy solstice,” Lucien said with a faint whisper.

The gesture reminded me of childhood. The excitement for gifts, the not wanting to sleep. 

“Happy solstice, Lucien.”

A breeze from the window filtered through and I tucked my shoulder away from its icy caress. Lucien’s eyes found the spot that had been struck and tentatively he reached across the bed. He hovered over the skin, the heat of his palm already kissing my shoulder without having to touch.

“Is this alright?” He asked.

I nodded. 

He placed his hand down, nothing but warm hot skin. He slid only low enough to grab the blanket, dragging it back up over my arms and hovering there a moment like he wasn’t sure what to do now. When he pulled away I didn’t stop him. I forgot what it was like to be young, inexperienced. How much weight everything had, the touch of a hand, the place beside you in bed. I’d once spent hours thinking about it, how it would feel to get to sleep beside someone forever. To reach through the dark and grab the person beside you and curl into their body, to find such tender relief whenever you wanted. To be so hungry so long you didn’t even recognize it as need, as want. Not until that first reach where no matter what you imagined, how small you’d convinced yourself it was, you found your hands shaking. 

“I went to the cabin.”

The words, though whispered, struck with strange weight. They pulled me from my thoughts abruptly. I asked, “When? Why?”

“Your weekend away. Mor brought me, but  you weren’t there.”

From the darkness I expected that dreamlike look on his face, something far away, but again he surprised me. He was visibly here, with me, in that moment. In fact, his stare seemed hardened, anchored to what he’d begun to unfold. I shook my head, confirming what we both knew. I wasn’t there.

He didn’t elaborate. I pressed a steady hand across the divide and rested it against his face.

“Are you alright?”

He smiled, placed his palm against the back of my hand, and said, “Why did you sit so far away?”

“I was waiting for you.”

He opened his arms and moved forward. It was invitation enough, I shoved across the bed and he enveloped me. The night in the bathroom had been too quick, too sickly, too delirious. We entangled ourselves like there was a risk in the night some invisible hand would pull us away. Perhaps there was. We said nothing more. I took in a long breath and closed my eyes. 

My mind drifted as I felt his hands splay across my back, a different kind of desperation. His heart beat slow beneath his skin. That name repeating with each pulse.

Erinyes

Erinyes

Erinyes

Dawn didn’t arrive quickly, but it came. I woke on my own. I stared at Lucien a long time, craning my neck to watch such peace sit on his face. I wanted to remember—just in case. I wanted to lean in, wanted to kiss him, but even softly I wasn’t sure if it would wake him. I couldn’t risk it. So I just stared for a long time, longer than I had time to do, and it was like a kiss but in a different way. Tonight, I’d ask my questions. We’d have our answers. 

Slipping from bed involved feigning sleep. I moved the way a lover pulls away once they are through with you. It was easy, I’d seen it for myself a thousand times. He let go. Not so reluctantly either, convinced I’d be here when he woke up. 

But I would not. 

At his desk, I stared at the name once more to be sure I’d seen it right. He’d circled it. I’d missed that somehow. Did he know what I knew? I looked back at him, a streak of sunlight through the window cut the reigning night away. He would not like it when he woke, that I’d left without word. He would soon understand. Whatever this was, was over. 

***

“You remembered!” Cassian yelled, holding up the sweater from his box. The one I’d made him years earlier snagged and left a gaping hole last winter. He’d felt so badly I tried to see if Egrette knew of any maneuver to save it but alas it had been ruined. “I’ll wear it tomorrow morning,” He smirked.

“What’s tomorrow?” Lucien asked. He’d not mentioned my slipping away. He seemed happy when he found me that morning in the library decorating with Mor. He’d even helped us hang garlands in the places we were too short to reach. 

“Their childish snowball fight,” Amren said looking at a fine stone Rhysand and I had picked out for her. I knew better than to knit her anything.

“You’re welcome to join us, Lucien,” Cassian said casually, turning to face the male beside me on the couch. I didn’t expect he would, but the nature of these things was precarious. The unexpected thing, what you didn’t plan for and couldn’t know, always makes its appearance. 

Lucien raised a brow at him in pure Autumn snobbery, “I’ll pass.”

“Well aren’t you precious,” Cassian drawled with a wide grin. I stilled at his words. Though I barely believed it, I hoped for a moment it was mere coincidence. That he had not heard us in Lucien’s room the night before, but when he sent me a wink it was clear he had.“Just as well, I suspect you’re tired after last night.”

“What was last night?” Mor asked with genuine innocence. 

Cassian turned toward Lucien waiting, and my mate didn’t even pause, like it were a lie he had been thinking about all day, “I fell asleep in the library and Cassian found me.”

“Precious indeed,” Mor said. 

Cassian’s attention waned from Lucien as he fixed on me, “You seem a bit tense.”

“Haven’t got much sleep these days.”

“So I hear,” Azriel muttered from the chair beside me. I shot him a glance, traitor. Rhysand was in conversation with Mor and Amren, his mind elsewhere but it would be foolish to pretend that he wasn’t at least half paying attention. 

“It seems none of us are getting any proper sleep,” Lucien mused as casually as Cassian.

“Not me,” Cassian replied. “I’ve been sleeping perfectly well.”

“We know,” Lucien said turning toward him with a half smile. “You’ve no reason not to.”

 Cassian’s jaw clenched but the thread of amusement was running through his face. The Illyrian sat back in his chair, “Next time I can’t sleep I’ll come find you.”

“I thought you didn’t wish to see?” I murmured into my drink and Cassian coughed as he took a sip of his, the contents splashing up into his face. It captured Rhysand’s attention well enough that he rolled his eyes and grabbed the last two gifts.

“These are for you two.”

I knew it was from Lucien. He was the only one left. I’d thought, maybe, the scarf had been a gift he’d given early. I’d brought it from my room and hung it carefully in the hall for when I needed to defend him, needed to reveal the kindness. But in my lap now, another gift. It was so finely wrapped I didn’t even wish to open it. I ran my fingers under the seam. Everyone’s eyes on us, and heat rose to my face. I’d never known opening a present to be so embarrassing, but tonight it felt like revealing something intimate that I wanted to be shared only between us.

The paper tore next to me. Lucien began to pull the box out, and so I too lifted the paper. We took the lids off in unison. 

Mittens. 

The same fine green. 

Lucien held up the sweater. I’d gone back to the tailor and found out what colors suited him. It was a rich olive color, even just holding it up drew the attention of the room. His skin was warm, glowing against it. I’d had to hide the project when Lucien came home and stationed himself in my room if it were late. I’d been up most nights rushing to finish in time. I’d been half asleep most days, but it was worth it, to see his face. I thought maybe he’d find it superfluous. I’d already given him one, but I wanted to make it with clearer intention. I wanted to make it for him on purpose. 

“So you’ve met Egrette,” Rhys said, and I realized how quiet we’d all gone. I huffed an awkward laugh as the room resumed its usual noise and splendor. The cover was just enough to give a reprieve, to offer a veil of privacy for which we could feel and speak freely. Lucien had the same soft smile he’d had the night before.

“I’m supposed to tell you, Egrette helped me with the cast-off.”

I laughed, “Did she help pick the color too? It’s my favorite yarn of hers.”

Lucien shook his head, “No. I saw it through the window that day you took me to get new clothes. It reminded me of the night we met.”

My brows furrowed, “In what way?”

He rested his head against the soft back of the couch, the memory just there for him. As easy to conjure as a smile. Pulled back into the past he spoke with an endearment I didn’t think he’d have reserved for that time, it contradicted everything, but I understood it nonetheless. To be at the beginning, to know how it ends, to hold those facts beside each other—it could wind you, such grief and gratitude together.

“When you arrived that night I was admiring the trees overhead. It was the Autumnal Equinox. I was sad to miss it for an eternal summer but just before you walked in I noticed the leaves were a deep green they tend to get just before they change and it made me think of home. When I looked away I saw you, talking with Mor.” His eyes looked around my face like a caress, half in memory. “That green was the color of the world the first time I saw you.”

I’d remembered wrong.

He had looked at me. I’d wanted for something that had already happened, something I’d missed. I was wrong. I doubt it would be the last time with him, but it was the first. We’d begun all wrong.

“I was afraid what my brother might do if he saw, if I looked too long.” He said absently like he knew what I’d been thinking. “So I looked at the leaves for a long time that night.”

If he saw me he’d said once of his father. Now too of his brother. Just to look at someone was a risk. The way you witnessed me, gave you power over me and for some reason you never used it, he’d said also. How brave he had to be in all those years just to let me be his witness. It’s any wonder what we might do with such bravery and power together, where we might go with it. 

“There’s a note,” He said pointing to one of the mittens.

I reached for it and a finger poked through a hole. A big one at that. More than just a mistake.

“That one was on purpose.”

I laughed, “Why?”

“So I could still satisfy your hunger.”

I turned away, hiding the deep red of my cheeks at those words. It had felt like an age between that first kiss and this moment. Standing alone in the hall after dinner at the house of wind. My fingers latched to the note and withdrew it.

For what I can’t chase away.

—Me

I smiled and the joy erased all notions of private feeling. It was obvious that anyone who looked, even those who didn’t know me at all, would know the intensity of the joy I was feeling. I peered around the room. They were watching Mor as she leaned into the dramatics of a story—all but Rhysand, who was watching me. If it were another time, the time of before, I might have turned away and hid that joy from him. But Lucien, it was Lucien who had made me feel I could be brave. So when my brother’s surprise eased into deep joy and esteem, I was glad I hadn’t missed it.

***

I winnowed directly into his room this time. I landed directly next to his bed where I’d found him the night before. Midnight was closing in, the boys were headed for their rooms, their voices carrying down the hall. Mor and Amren remained in the library. It was time.

Lucien went to speak and I rushed my palm against his mouth. We were close, my knee on the bed beside him, our noses nearly touching. Rhysand and Azriel’s conversation carried far away until their doors closed. But it was Cassian who I was worried about. He walked toward his room whistling. I needed to know what he could hear. I’d anticipated he’d heard the knock on the door but not much else. When I saw him this morning he looked between Lucien and me and I knew I’d had that much correct.

The door across the hall shut and I shifted my attention back to Lucien, one eyebrow raised at me as if I were being ridiculous, as if Cassian hadn’t revealed he’d heard everything. A stroke of dumb luck that the male couldn’t keep a joke to himself. Last night was practice, tonight was the real thing. I slid into his mind.

Come to apologize for leaving me this morning?

No. It was deserved. 

Really?

I narrowed my eyes at him. You’ve been lying to me Lucien. 

His mouth opened against my hand and before any noise, any confirmation or denial, could be pressed into the skin of my palm I wrapped my other arm around his neck and fell backward through the universe. 

It was a stumbling really, just as it had been through the wards, as it had all begun. A risk I knew, we could land flat on our faces, but after the table incident, I could better predict his instincts. So when we landed on the doorstep, Lucien’s hands shooting out to catch the brick, his other curved so tightly against my back, I smiled for having guessed correctly.

“By the Cauldron,” he swore getting his footing just barely to let me go. He glared at me before turning to see where we’d landed. I realized then he was wearing the sweater I’d made. The new one. I’d forgotten to tell him inside the collar I’d stitched the words less drab. If after all this was over I could tell him I would. He turned a few times as if he expected us to be somewhere else, the cabin maybe. I could’ve winnowed inside but I wanted him to know where we were, wanted really for him to see it. His eyes slid over the brick and looked to the right where Velaris lay in scattered excitement, the warm glow of Solstice settling behind the windows and seeping out into the world. His brows furrowed in confusion he looked toward the Sidra next to us, cutting through the lawn, curving out toward the sea. Not the cabin, not with the boys headed its way tomorrow. 

So began an immediate shift, where turning back it wasn’t that he didn’t trust me, it was something else entirely. Like he needed always, to find the margins of a place to know the boundary of access, where he felt allowed to go. Starting on the outskirts where nothing was, he seemed to believe he had to earn his way in. I wish I’d seen him that first night walk into his room, to compare it now to the way he looked at me. So unsure, a bit uneasy that a door was about to slam shut and he’d no longer have access to what he’d been shown. He didn’t seem to want to get comfortable, didn’t want to let his other place in the world out of his sight lest he lose them both at the same time.

I nodded my head toward the door. The warmth, once I opened it, was immediate and I let out a sigh of relief. Things were going unnervingly to plan. Lucien and I crowded inside the small entry. Even the cold that night had been a little much for him to bear. Though I felt him close, I knew his attention was nowhere near me. He was taking in everything he could see. The ornate, albeit old, carpets trailing the short hall. Jackets hung in the open, the somehow free and yet cramped space where rooms dueled for attention across from and beside each other. As we walked further in Lucien turned to each.

“Is this a family home?” He asked running his hands up the exposed wood, the cottage itself a little more rugged. If the townhouse wasn’t High Lord-like, then this was an even further cry.

“No. It’s my home.”

Lucien’s eyes slid over to mine. I nodded ghosting a smile with his surprise. It was not extravagant, it wasn’t even big. It had a small sunroom next to the garden that looked along the Sidra and that was about as luxurious as it got. It didn’t even have a library, but there were books, plenty. Along shelves where they fit and in stacks where they didn’t. Decorated with paintings and art collected at the rainbow, candles along the windows, ticket stubs and scrap papers in frames of the court’s most extravagant mischief, a kitchen I’d cooked just once in before I went home. Lived and not lived in, proof of having been alive but not really there in those rooms.

“When my mother and father died I bought a home. I needed a project, somewhere to go, somewhere alone, and mine. No one aside from Rhys knows it exists. Took about two years to quietly move in but I don’t stay here that often.” 

“Why?” Lucien said.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Once all the builders cleared out I remembered I was alone.”

We moved into the sitting room. Two couches sat opposite each other. Maybe he sensed it, that we should be apart for this, because he sat across from me even though we were alone. Or perhaps it was all manners, that's how he was. When I met his face again he had the look he always had from before Velaris, before all of it. A trace of softness still there, a touchstone to what we’d become—to what we might be. I didn’t know which way this would go, if he’d detest me, if I would detest him, but there were things to be said and we could no longer not say them.

“So,” he said, “you’ve brought me here to lay it all out then.”

I nodded, “It won’t entirely be unfair. I’ve been lying to you too. But nothing will make sense until you tell me yours first.”

He thought a moment. In the weeks leading up to this, the feeling of inevitability seemed real and present. Everything I did, every question, every moving piece had been effortless and unwavering. I’d imagined this conversation not to be simple but somewhat the same. Only as we arrived at it did I find there was a kind of impasse. We’d both need to reveal ourselves, to want the same thing. We’d need to do the things we’d only just recently learned to do. This was the very last test. 

He took in a long breath, tutted his tongue like a kind of tic while he thought. He held something before him, a hypothetical, whatever he believed he’d lose by going first. He didn’t want to. Not until he turned to me. The reluctance lifted as he fixed himself upon me, his mate, sat across from him, like he was placing a bet on me too.

“Where should I begin?”

He saw the breath I let out. He didn’t join in the relief. 

“The night we arrived when it was revealed that my emotions were running down the bond you said you’d lower your shields too. But you didn’t, not really. Why?”

I don’t know when I began to suspect it. I hadn’t wanted to believe it. But the moment his emotions were building in Rhysand’s office to which the only tell was the slight opening of his mouth I began to wonder. He’d given himself away in the bathroom. Gawayn’s name had struck deep in his chest the morning of our walk after I’d mentioned him. Only for him later, after our affections deepened, on the tale end of a lie, to hear his name and feel almost nothing. That primal thing seemingly vanished. 

“Do you know what your emotions feel like?” He said blinking slow. “They’re like notes, like music. Your feelings hum really, and they build into chords. I can tell when you’ve made sense of something because I can feel the harmony in my ribs. My emotions, they’re not like that.”

“I didn’t know what my emotions were like. How could you know yours?”

“I’ve watched you. In Rhysand’s office, I saw them wipe your thoughts clean away, like a wave. Or that night in the foyer, you winced. Moments where I wasn’t or couldn’t withhold from you the intensity of my feeling. Your words, they’re very important to you. I would hate to be the cause of your silence, even accidentally,” he said plainly. “But you can correct me if I’m wrong.”

“You could’ve let me try,” I said, by way of confirmation. His emotions often built rapidly, striking with full force, indeed like a wave. “I’m not so weak you know, I would’ve figured it out.”

His eyes became swallowed with pain. “I know,” he said.

“I’d assumed you were unhappy, that this place was not agreeable to you. Or worse, at times I thought you felt nothing.”

“No. No, it was the opposite,” He said. “I didn’t mean to shield entirely. I only wished to diminish everything enough for you to think.” 

That mutual vulnerability I believed us to have was a lie. Perhaps the most devastating realization, that it was all on the line for me, from the beginning. How much joy had I missed, intense complex and beautiful joy, for what he’d seen those first weeks? It was something I could never get back. My brows furrowed.

“But your end of the bond has been quiet since the beginning, before you saw what your emotions could do. I didn’t feel you fully until after our night in the bathroom.”

He huffed a laugh. It wasn’t malicious, in fact, I think he was almost impressed. A testing of our limitations, of my noticing continuity. There were things he didn’t want to say, things perhaps he wouldn’t offer up unless asked directly. I frowned.

“You seemed unsure of how things had changed between us that first night. After you asked me to hold your hand I hesitated because I was very sure of what had changed but I couldn’t tell if you desired it or not.”

“What was it then?”

“I wanted to stay,” he admitted, shoulders slumping. “I thought perhaps it was just Velaris, being rid of my father and brothers, but then Mor found me in your room, told me to leave, and I realized I actually just wanted to stay with you. But I didn’t know what was to come of me, Rhys didn’t want me there, you’d given no indication you were to have them claim me. I thought, eventually, I’d have to go. And for the first time, I had no desire to.” He said, breathless eyes focused, here with me. “But I couldn’t bear it if you knew my desire, so I diluted everything to you.”

“How?”

“It’s like setting a ward really.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want the bond to be laborious to you, for my emotions to weigh in your decision. If you decided to ask me to stay I needed to know it was what you wanted, not an obligation you felt bound to.”

“You believe me so easily persuaded?”

The corners of his mouth creased but if it were a smile or a frown I wasn’t at all sure. “You said once you acted as you did because I’m Lucien, well my reasoning is just the same. You’re you, you’re good and you want to do good. You are singularly motivated to ease suffering. You wanted to marry Eris to save my home, stepped between your brother to save me, even the hobbies you choose benefit other people. That Night Court business didn’t fool me. I’ve known for a while that though you are cunning, you are never cruel.”

“I’d let anyone stay if they wanted to, if they needed to.”

“Then you understand why I felt the need to hide from you,” He said. When I didn’t answer he shook his head, “You’re so good you don’t even notice it, not as I do. It’s simple, really, I wanted you to pick me. I needed you to do it not because you’re kind or for the same compulsion with which you act toward everyone, but because you wanted me there.”

“It isn’t for everyone.”

Lucien didn’t even reply, he just gave me a look and I conceded. 

“So you made me tell you I wanted to see you, you asked me to ask after you.”

“Yes. For you to reveal yourself to me a desire, a feeling, anything about me really, it would have to be something you really wanted. I believed though you’d do it and once you told me that you held your own hand at night and I began to see the weight of my being here, the threads which pulled at your feelings, I was less afraid,” he said. His eyes which had settled on my two clasped hands lifted to look at me, unsure. “But…”

“But what.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, “The morning after we had dinner at the house of wind I had to test you, just one last time.”

“Why, was it something I said? Did I do something to make you feel I didn’t want you?”

“No.”

In a way I had hoped it had been me who misbehaved. I didn’t want the alternative to be true, a remaining loose end with which I had not inquired further when I should’ve. That I had not been there to do anything was worse than being the very reason he’d felt the need to test my feelings again at all. At least then it would be another misunderstanding. At least if it were me it was something I hadn’t even meant to do in the first place.

“What did my brother say to you that morning at dawn?”

“That he’d been in your mind,” He said curtly.

“Lucien.”

He sighed, “That he’d been in your mind and there was something old there, a pattern of thought he recognized from years ago that had made a return. You’d been distracted, talking to other people, thinking about the court, but there was an underlying sense of powerlessness. But that was not how I knew you, not as I had ever known you, I was sure that he was wrong. So I waited for you to come get me, for you to assert yourself after our conversation as you always have, but the longer I waited the more convinced I became that there was some truth to it. So in the foyer after breakfast I baited you.”

And you wouldn’t let yourself be so powerless, would you? 

“When you told me to tell Rhysand that you could make your own decisions, what did you mean?”

Lucien sat back, waving a hand, “Rhys had tried to tell me things you liked, how I should go about talking to you, where in the city I should have you take me. He wanted me to act and do things in a specific way which, I’m sure, was well-meaning, but I knew how I wanted to court you.”

Court me

I sat up. My whole body heated, culminating in a sheen of sweat on my back. In the weeks that had passed had that been his motive? The walks, the going to Egrette’s, the lips pressed against the skin of my hand. How plainly he said it, that he wanted me, that he wanted me the way that he did. Even as it replayed in my mind it was hard to imagine him saying it, having really said it.

He smiled, his voice soft, “You’re surprised.”

“I just. I didn’t think—”

“Probably because I didn’t get to do what I had wanted, what I had planned after I left your room the night before. You’d know if I was romancing you I would hope.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” I murmured and he laughed.

“No, think better of me, of my efforts at least.”

I laughed then and the breaking of the tension relieved something in the room, added a little knowledge to what had seemed unknown to me before. Looking at Lucien I got the same sense that he got when he’d looked at me, it made me decide that, yes, I would tell him everything. It all seemed inevitable once more. 

“What happened then, that you couldn’t do what you wished?”

Lucien grew serious again, “Rhys said the feeling was old, but that it had returned. He believed I was responsible for it. Whether it was my distance from you or something that happened in the woods, he didn’t know. By the time you’d found me I was so annoyed that he’d been right about the first thing, I had to collect myself when it occurred to me there may be some truth in the other too—that it was I who had caused it.”

“It isn’t so simple, the origin of that feeling.”

“I know,” Lucien said. “After you told me of Gawayn and your brother I suspected that it was, indeed a very old feeling.”

Curious really, the more I thought about it. I have a terrible feeling I’m to blame in part for whatever’s going on between you two. One had to wonder if Rhys had not heard Lucien sling his insults, call me powerless, and felt the guilt of a century renewed. To have, at last, overstepped so overtly, so foolishly, that he’d realized too late what had so constantly happened.

“Due to the nature of our relationship before, I never told you really, how impressive you actually are. The way you use your words, the attention you pay to things, the balance you manage in the private and public duties is something to admire. Even my father knew it and respected your ability in whatever way he is capable of.”

“My words are a shield more than a weapon. I’m not often brave enough to hold real power, to let anyone really know me.”

“You’ve always been braver than me.”

“That’s not true.”

“It’s true enough,” Lucien said staring at me for a moment, thinking. His eyes narrowed, “The problem isn’t that you have no power, it's that we see what real power is very differently. Power to you has a ceiling that cannot be surpassed and as such fluctuates, moving in and out of hands but there will always be only the amount that you began with. Knowing the stakes, controlling them and what was revealed, seemed by your logic to nullify anything your opponent had,” He said sitting up, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“And what do you believe?” I asked.

“Real power has no finite amount. That, actually, there is more to gain when we meet someone else's power with our own. Then whatever leverage there was becomes obsolete. You use your position this way all the time.”

My brows furrowed, “When?”

“The night we got here when you called me handsome, revealing your thoughts to me, it opened something new to us both where we no longer needed the upper hand. Or with Cassian, as Madja stitched you up, when you asked him to try you were revealing a fondness that created a door for the court to meet you where you were. It’s why at breakfast I became more agreeable. You looked at me. I’d have never looked at you. If it had been me reading and you wanting my attention, before coming to Velaris I’d have never given in. That was better though, for your power to call to my own. It showed me what life could be if we came at things, bad moods and feelings, together. So, yes, you’re very powerful because you invite people into your power. You know how to play your cards even when you keep them close.”

I attempted to swallow the dryness in my mouth to no remedy. I understood and perhaps had known this definition before tonight, since that moment after our kiss, where it seemed something between us had met and suddenly we were together in ways I could not ignore. A meeting of power, a touching where I had never once been touched. I understood him, yes. 

 “After we spoke in the den I realized your brother was right in a way. It was me. My coming here obliterated our dynamic. Suddenly there was more power in play than ever. There was no way you could know how it had been divided between us at any time. For you to find me at all and say what you said, I imagined it had been hard, terrifying even. So after we almost kissed, after the lights went out, I wanted you to see yourself as I did and that became the motivation of everything.”

A serene silence came about the room. The both of us slumped against the back of the couches, the Sidra quiet behind windows I knew were thin enough for it to be heard. As if everyone was listening, the world holding its breath, the walls standing taller, waiting—all of it waiting for the moment we didn’t wish to address. I licked my lips and swallowed again with nothing to swallow. 

“So why then, did you use those words against me in the foyer?”

Lucien rubbed at his eye with the palm of his hand, blinking a few times. I could almost imagine him as a child, could see him young and laughing, full of life. He seemed to recede just a moment to a boy in trouble and afraid of what would happen. It tore me in two. I wanted to tear the whole world in two.

“I waited on you to ask for me for another reason which I haven’t said.”

“Lucien—”

“I must say this, it explains everything,” he began. “My father married my mother when she was very young. She had little say in the arrangement, in what she could become. I lived within the consequences of what she was not given and it made me determined, at all costs, to avoid becoming anything like my father. I was content to remain alone if I had to. I was the seventh son there was no urgency or attention placed on my duty. But even the last son must produce strong heirs.” 

That look of disgust when the bond snapped, it had never been for me. Mates, they are not always gifts. Yet sacred they are. I did not often like to think of it, how young my mother was when she was mated. All that life she hadn’t lived. What her life became. 

“Our fates became intertwined that evening in Day Court.”

“So you proposed we tell no one,” I said.

“Then you got your freedom as you wanted and I would never be the male who trapped an unwilling female. It was a convenience that our motives aligned, but I never deluded myself into seeing my decision as a noble choice. I acted entirely in my own self-interest and I went about my life enjoying it in silent rejection of the bond. I smothered all feeling, all possibility of feeling, until two months ago when my father cut into you. The first thing I felt from that tether after 50 years was unimaginable despair.”

I’d already told him what had hurt so badly, that he was there and Eris, that these males I believed could be better had, for a moment, appeared precisely the same as everyone else. To reiterate for him the origin of the despair would change nothing. It was the first thing he felt that was mine from what between us he believed to be a wretched link, proof that he could not outrun his long-feared fate. 

“That is how you saw me then. I stood for everything you resented,” I said quietly.

“You are not the bond,” He said with cool control. 

“You cannot sever the two. They are interwoven, it exists because I exist, it feels what I feel.”

Lucien shook his head. I gripped the cushions of the couch tight in my fist, his eyes drawn to the small movement in the otherwise still world. When he looked back at me there was nothing but pain and pity in his eyes. It turned my stomach, it helped nothing.

I said, “I don’t understand.”

Lucien’s eyes softened, “I wish that it was different, that it was more romantic, but it isn’t. I liked the life we had together, which was a life apart but unlike the bond, I could not rid myself of you. That, to me, is the difference. After I shielded, things reverted back to what they had always been. You still had what you had always had which I remain inexplicably compelled and annoyed by. You were still witty and charming and smart and irritating and when I’d see you at court I was glad as I’d always been to have someone to play the game. What happened in Day Court was confirmation of something I’d always known to be true, that you and I were equals, intellectually and emotionally, but that was it.”

I squeezed my hands once more into the cushion. This time he didn’t look but I knew he was aware of it. He retreated ever so slightly, and for a moment I wanted to stand, cross the room, take him very carefully into my arms, and forgive him for everything. But it was not time for such things. 

“I meant it on the terrace, I knew how I wanted things to be different,” he explained. “After dinner at the house of wind, I wanted to feel everything. You’d laughed for the first time, really laughed. Not the polite one you use at court and I felt it between my ribs. Those building notes of your joy…You misunderstood me, when you asked me how I wanted things to change. When I said ‘you’d laugh’ that wasn’t me worried that you’d laugh at me, I was asking you to.” He shifted uncomfortably, “That was what I wanted to be different, I wanted no more illusions. I began to understand something that I’d never understood, how precious it all was and I swore never again to waste it—to resent that inherent beauty and intimacy.”

I swallowed, “But I made you resent it again, in the foyer, didn’t I. When I shielded?”

Lucien’s jaw flexed. “You made me feel like I was my father.”

He could’ve said anything else—anything, and it would have been a more gentle demolition. It swept through me with a clean break. On one side a perfected before and on the other a new moment in which I had learned something I would forever have to know. That despite all intentions and lines drawn when we were two mates with no desire between us, I had done what I had sworn I would never do. No one in the whole of Prythian was unaware of the animosity between the High Lord of Autumn Court and his youngest son. It was not news to me that his motivations stemmed in part from his terrible father. His words tightened on my throat like a carefully pulled noose. I could not undo what I’d made him believe and what in consequence resulted after, all that suffering. 

Speechless still, Lucien continued quietly, “Mor reminded me, of the world you inhabit. She referred to your ‘private definitions,’ but you must understand something, when you said burden it devastated me, it was everything I had been trying not to be.”

My cheeks heated and I pressed my palm against my forehead, rubbing at it. Lucien’s gaze burned into me with such intensity that my palms began to sweat.

“It wasn’t what I meant,” I said looking up at him. “Burden, I meant something else.”

Lucien huffed a laugh with great effort, “You couldn’t have picked a more loaded word.”

“The one I wanted was even worse, but I was scared.” 

His throat bobbed, swallowing the question I knew he wanted to ask. I would tell him the other word, but he was not finished yet. So I asked mine, “She found you that night and she taught you how to make the drop.”

He nodded along in confirmation, “A few things happened before that, however.”

“What things?”

“She agreed to help me. I told her with much embarrassment what I’d originally planned to win you over and we conspired to get the court away from you so I might try again. I had already been going to Egrette’s classes and I had a small disadvantage in that I didn’t know anything of the city, so I used the time away from you to know it. Sometimes I spent all day with Egrette, listening to her talk about you, other times I went with Mor in search of places I thought you might like, tea shops I could take you, bookstores.”

“Sometimes you were with Cassian,” I said.

“I wanted to find an apartment. It was important to me that I have something to give you. I wanted to be ready, I wanted you to have as much privacy as possible and control over the pace of our relationship and if you ever desired to consummate it then we had somewhere to go.”

I raised a brow and turned my head to the side to reveal the very obvious bite at my neck which had still not entirely healed. Every conversation I’d begun since it happened started with eyes drawn to the curve of my neck. Even Rhys who dared mention nothing had finally acknowledged it that evening in his office.

“You really do believe I’m such a brute,” Lucien smiled a little, still smug about it, but he took on a more endearing quality. “Once we realized you were not, in fact, bluffing about going to the Illyrian village we met and made a plan. I asked Mor to take me to the cabin once Cassian left but we know how that worked out.” He shot me a glance, “This was also the night I made the plan for her to walk in on us fighting, under the guise of getting you out of the house and I asked too that she orchestrate Rhysand and Cassian so that we could be interrupted, so that all three of them would hear the threat I made against your neck. I didn’t want it to appear as anything more than a ploy to annoy you. Then if, with the time we had alone, something happened, our scents had already mixed. No one would know unless you told them.”

The clock in the hall began to chime. 12 bells rung out into the silent house before it even occurred to me that I might have something to say, that there was something to be said to the male who’d done everything, had thought of everything. 

Lucien sighed, “I’m not so territorial over you, and I know that it hasn’t always been so obvious, but you have me and have had me so all that was left to give you was the moment. I wanted to give you what you were denied the first time, I wanted it all to belong to you entirely. That's why I went to the cabin it's why I bit you it's why I’ve been lying.”

I cleared my throat, and despite how badly I wanted to I did not look away from the intensity of his stare as he admitted his feelings. It was not a mercy to anyone, no. I was being cruel.

“There's one more thing you need to tell me.”

Whatever he thought I’d say or do, that was not it. His whole being deflated. But we could do this no other way, it had to go as planned, as it had been. I could spare nothing, not even his feelings. 

“What's that?” He asked. 

“Why did you have Mor teach you to make the drop?”

Lucien sat back, his voice flat and uncaring, “In the woods when you overpowered me despite your injuries it felt as if something were going on that I didn’t know about. I suspected that you were reading about Gods because you believed something happened too so I went to the library to see if I could find anything. After our night drinking, when you told us you’d made a bargain, I narrowed my search some and started going more frequently.”

My eyes fell to the small table. A fern was laid across it—green and full of life, of new beginnings. There was no water. It had sat there two weeks, still alive. 

It was my turn now, to emerge from the wings.

I brought him to the kitchen and he waited by the counter. Dejected and yet curious all the same he stood before me with certain sternness. His even breaths were in contradiction to the waves of emotion that passed off him. He pushed his sleeves up, the kitchen warmer than the sitting room from use. I bent before the oven, its low fire just enough for the occasion, and from the dull heat, I pulled out braided bread. 

“One other person has a key to my house,” I explained as the bread slid into the light of the counter. “Egrette. She lives next door. I knew you were lying when you said you spent the weekend with her because she’d spent the weekend here, with me, helping clean the house so I could bring you and teaching me to make this.”

They made it in the Autumn Court on the equinox. Vegetables inlaid swirling toward one another, an image of an Autumn harvest. I’d been betting on Lucien, that it would all go as it should. Believing the worst of him was a habit I no longer had. If he was lying to me then I believed he had good reason. I just didn’t know how good it was. 

“I’ve been waiting, really, for everything to be done, for the circumstances to be right so that we could have time alone. That's why I left this morning so early, I had to prepare the bread. I asked Egrette to warm it in the oven for you.”

Lucien straightened at those last words. I could hear his heart, pounding furiously, as if in echo. For you for you for you for you. 

“Yes I suspected that my bargain in the woods was legitimate but unlike my court’s magic, there was no marking on me. I’d been reading to try and figure out who was there with us but once you gave me the scarf I felt more urgency. My own, yes, but there was also a thread being pulled but from a different direction, toward the house, like the Mother wanted me to come here. But I didn’t want to mate you without knowing the precise terms so I went to Helion who offered me his resources. Though I found nothing, when I got back to Velaris that night, our…audience made an appearance.”

“Erinyes.”

I nodded, “Just one, not all three.”

“Which?”

“Tisiphone,” the avenger. “She and I spoke for a long time, about that night, about what I’d done. The Gods, they do not mark bargains the way we do. Ours once they are finished disappear. We are no longer bound by their terms and circumstances. The oath I made in the woods, to protect you, it is a different standard,” I swallowed, “I am bound forever to the promise I made. Not just in this life, but the ones that follow too.”

Lucien stared blankly. I’m sure when I learned I’d looked the same. The counter between us became a chasm. I don’t know what I thought he would reveal, but I wanted something from him, anything. I did not wish to be cruel with my silence, with the direction I took or didn’t take the conversation, but he had a freedom I did not have and I don’t know if he was aware he wasn’t using it. I wanted him to, before this. Before the hardest part of all. I wanted what could be our last words to be different. I steeled myself, I refused to reveal the pain of it, the fear. He must again choose me on his own. 

“She met with me to tell me the terms, but specifically this last one. The nature of fae mating, it is a union of souls. If you eat, if you accept, it will result in you inheriting the same oath over me. You will protect me and I will protect you, we will forever be each other's keepers. We can never move fatally against each other. Our purpose will always be divided: The thing we were born that life to do, and then this, the oath I made.” I let out a breath, paused, and with conviction said it at last. “If you mate me I will always be your burden and you will always be mine.”

It was cruel really, as the Gods can be, that his fate was reduced eternally to be the thing he feared most. That he had to choose between having and not having. The weight with which we existed now would rest somewhere beyond this kitchen, in rooms I wouldn’t know as myself, where Lucien was not Lucien. He did not have to be bound because I was, however. I refused to cage him as he had not caged me.

“How can you be sure that this is true? That it was not a dream?”

I turned toward the living room, from the kitchen, the table could be seen. “She was holding that fern stem when I arrived. I watched her watch me sleep and she placed it on my chest. I woke to it, brought it downstairs, and it's been sitting there ever since.”

His eyes wandered from the living room over to the bread, then back to me, but he himself didn’t move. From the sunroom, a fine mist had gathered on the windows. Too early to be dew, but it seemed the outside world with which we’d been trying to hold back from us had at last ducked behind the curtain to give us privacy. No one was listening for his answer but me. His chest rose and fell with the breath that he took instead of giving me one. 

“I know this changes things,” I said eventually, when the silence stretched too long. “I won’t hold you to what you said or felt before this was revealed. But the food, it’s there, and the offer will always be there if you should change your mind.”

“It’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

“My resentment toward the bond, I don’t understand how you feel.”

I clapped my hands together to brush away some crumbs. They fell at the counter and seemed loud by comparison to the silence that had come in and out between us. 

“It's a nice idea, that the time before this was more agreeable to what we’ve come to realize, but it isn’t true and I don’t want that life anyway. I want this one where you are you and I am me. It’s been a long time since that dinner and I have no desire to let any more time pass us by. I want to end it, this thing we’re doing or not doing, for good. I need no romance and no convincing. I know you and have known you all this time.” I smiled, small, with all the hope I had left, “You said it once, knowledge like ours is a burden and that to know someone risks love, to me that night they became interchangeable. I didn’t mean burden. The word I was afraid to say was love.”

That careful rise on his chest ceased. I had been meaning to tell him. 

I shrugged, “So, you didn’t like the bond, well luckily for me I never desired your good opinion.” The words struck a familiar tune and I allowed myself a bigger hope, a different smile—the kind that broke the tension just as his laugh had before. An invitation, something that couldn’t be misunderstood. He’d known such looks since we’d met. “Besides, I can’t break my oaths now. I think it’s only fair that I see through my prayer to the Cauldron. If we have children they should have a chance at being more intelligent than us and the libraries here are very fine.”

His eyes didn’t leave mine, mouth slightly agape, bond silent, still shielded. I could see our life together so clearly it made my mouth water. The sudden weight of a mate more palpable than ever, the food before him waiting. In the pause before the decision was made, I was given one last moment to feel what it would mean if he ate. And it would be okay if he decided against it, but it would be nice if he did too. I’d begun to believe in such things, that I could be happy, that life would give you what you wanted. And what I wanted was Lucien, entirely and wholly. So eat, I thought, and let’s be done with this. The time we took, it was good, but let’s be rid of what fear and secrets keep us here. 

Lucien’s eyes which had remained fixed on the bread rose to my own. His breathing returned just before he gave his answer.

“You’re my burden.”

At last, he understood everything. 

Then Lucien stepped forward, cut the bread, and placed a single bite in his mouth. 

I saw it, the change. Familiar and unforgettable, the joy he’d had that night in the library after he bit me. The kind that had pulled laughter from his chest, truer and more pure than anything I’d ever heard, ever held. His mouth moving with a sensual slowness. Swallowing the present so it became forever. He stepped out from behind the counter between us, my body trailing his, turning like the shadow of a sundial. 

I do not know who lunged first, but suddenly the distance between us was not so large, the heat of two bodies too real, and the taut string of need that had been pulling us closer for a lifetime snapped and he had me in his arms. Where once there had been absence, there was everything. 

He walked aimlessly hands sliding the hem of my dress down my thighs. The bedroom upstairs, the world beyond his immediate body seemingly vanished. He did not ask and I did not tell him where to go. To do so would be too much space between us. Landing only as far as the sunroom he dropped to his knees. We were careless, yes, but with a sudden clarity of intention, he laid me against the ground with all the tenderness in the world. It was the only reason I could imagine the parting of our mouths.

He lowered his face, nudging along my waist, kissing me through the thin fabric, I wanted it to be easy, if he accepted, I wanted to feel him immediately even with clothes. His nose found my hips, the heat of his mouth pooled beneath the seam of the dress. His fingers found either side and pulled, tearing the stitching in two, exposing the skin beneath for his mouth to reach. He rose and met the place between my breasts with a moan, his voice deeper than I’d ever heard it, weighed and so needy it rattled between my ribs. 

The firmness of his kiss contradicted the laze of his tongue as it swirled along the slope of my breast. I arched into him, the whole world warmer. 

I couldn’t have had him any sooner, but I couldn’t fathom it, how long I’d been without. I’d become so hallow with need I no longer knew how to be just one person. My hands fumbled with the buttons of his clothes, and the clumsiness of our bodies, hip bones sliding along hip bones, the rough feel of his thigh, he turning and I following. 

If we could get closer I’d do it. 

If he could devour me then I’d devour him. 

I could no longer wait. There had never been so little between us. The veil had been lifted, there was no margin, just a layer of want beyond measure. 

His fingers splayed between my shoulder blades as his hips shifted. I felt him just there. His nose against mine, he paused and stared at me, questioning, like I could ever go back. 

I nodded.

Our mouths open, pressed together, first pressure, then 200 years of relief. 

#lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar #lucien acotar #lucien fanfic #night court #high lord rhysand #rhysand!sister #25K later #okay its not going to be fade to black I swear just the moment seemed to me good as it was and I don't know how to write smut very well yet #I didn't wanna ruin it #a court of thorns and roses

[im-just-a-mississippi-girl]

Tear in My Heart: The Meeting

Pairing: Single Dad!Matt Jackson x Teacher!reader

Category: Fluff

Word count: 1,192

Summary: A special place in your heart is reserved for Madeleine Jackson. At the end of the first day of school, she introduces you to her dad. Is the spark you feel when shaking his hand reciprocated or is this just a crush?

Warnings: None

Requested by: @mrsmatt

A/N: I don’t think the summary is that great but it’s the best I could come up with. Anyways, here’s part one @springgirlwaiting4fall ☺️🫶🏻

Part 2: The School Play

Masterlist

Taglist

Gif is not mine. Credit to the owner.

The start of a new school year has came back around yet again. You loved teaching the little minds of the children in your class each year, seeing their eyes light up when they got the hang of something or when they win a prize out of the treasure box. First graders were always so excited and full of questions.

You spent the whole week preparing and planning for a fun first day for your students, name cards on desks along with a little goodie bag. You decorated your classroom in fun colors with a variety of educational materials and items hanging on the wall within the children’s reach. You had came up with all kinds of fun games for the kids to play and help them learn in the process. There was a toy chest filled with numbered blocks for learning math, books to help them read, and other useful tools to prepare them for the future.

You stood out in the hallway beside your classroom door as the bell rang and students began flooding the halls in search of their classroom. You smiled brightly as you welcomed each student that entered your room and helped the children that couldn’t find their teacher.

Inside the classroom, you welcomed them as whole and introduced yourself. You went down each row asking them to introduce themselves to the class and tell everyone one thing they loved. The answers ranged from dinosaurs to Barbie to trucks to seashells. One little girl’s answer just melted your heart. When asked about what she loved, she beamed and answered with, “My daddy.”

As the day went on, you kept thinking about how sweet that one little girl’s answer was. My daddy. You looked at the rows of desks and your eyes landed on the sweet little girl. She had gorgeous brown hair that cascaded around her shoulders, adorable chocolate brown eyes that had such liveliness in them. She was dressed in a purple shirt with a yellow butterfly printed on the front and blue jeans paired with a cute pair of purple and white Jordans. You watched how all the children interacted with one another and noticed she was always helping others and partnering up with the one or two kids that seemed to be left out.

At lunch time, you guided your class to the cafeteria. Some children had brought their lunch so you led them to the table designated for your students. You sat down at the same table with your lunchbox, smiling and chatting with the students already there. You opted to make yourself a classic PB&J. Just because you’re a teacher doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a kid like lunch.

A plastic cafeteria tray was sat on the table next to you. You looked up from your lunchbox to see the sweet little brown haired and brown eyed girl, Madeleine Jackson was her name but she liked Maddie better. “Hi!” You smiled as the little girl sat down.

“Hi Miss Y/L/N!” She cheerfully greeted you. She gave you the cutest smile and started up a conversation about how your day was going, your favorite color, favorite food and really just whatever she thought of. You would answer her questions and ask her some in return. You could tell she was thrilled to talking with you and honestly, you were happy she was interested in getting to know you.

After lunch, you led your students back to the classroom and started teaching a math lesson. All the children learned at different speeds which is to be expected. You explained the math lesson once more and gave a few examples on the whiteboard and with the blocks from the toy chest. When you felt like they had a pretty good grasp on it, you passed out a work sheet and blocks for visual aids.

You sat at your desk and went over the worksheets from the spelling activity when you heard a little voice from the front of your desk. “Can you help me more?” You looked up and your eyes met the sweet little Jackson girl. She looked like she was getting upset.

“Don’t don’t get upset, Maddie. Can you bring me some blocks? Maybe you need to think about it in a different way.” You offered and watched Maddie collect the blocks. When she returned, you helped her until she finally got the hang of it. “Great job Maddie!” She beamed at your praise, clearly thrilled she figured it out.

“I can’t wait to show daddy.” She grinned. You could tell by the way she talked about her dad that he meant the world to her, a total daddy’s girl. Once Maddie went back to her desk, you resumed going over the spelling worksheets from earlier.

As the first day drew to a close, you helped your students collect their things and put away anything they were using. Once that was done, the bell rang signaling that school was finally over for the day. You helped direct your students to the buses and to the car rider line. You joined the other teachers in standing alongside the students from your class and others, asking them if they see their car and when they did you walked them to their car. As the number of students dwindled down to the final few, you noticed one of your students was left, sweet little Maddie Jackson. You made your way over to her and crouched down. “Do you want to sit over on the bench and talk to me while we wait?” You offered to which she happily agreed.

The pair of you chatted about Disney movies and your favorite princesses until a car stopped in front of you. Looking up the little Jackson girl’s face lit up as she squealed, “Daddy!” She jumped down and raced towards him as he exited the car, smiling wide as he scooped her up in hug.

You couldn’t help yourself from smiling at the sweet scene in front of you. The little girl’s dad was absolutely gorgeous, from his long brown hair to his gorgeous chocolate brown eyes and his contagious smile. Looking between the two, there was no mistaking them as father and daughter, she was the miniature version of him.

“Daddy! Daddy! You have to meet my teacher!” Maddie insisted, tugging on her dad’s hand once he sat her back down from the hug. He just shook his head laughing, letting her drag him over to you on the bench.

“Daddy, this is Miss Y/L/N. She’s the best teacher ever!” Maddie excitedly informed her dad. You were happy and surprised at Maddie’s statement. You always wanted to make an impression on your students, but you never realized it could be done that quickly.

Maddie’s dad chuckled at his daughter’s enthusiasm. “I’m Matt.” He introduced himself, a beautiful smile on his face. He reached out to shake your hand.

You instantly returned the smile. “Y/N.” You accepted his handshake. As you did so, you felt a sort of connection, an electric connection, a spark shooting through you. Did he feel the same?

General Taglist: @legit9thlunaticwarrior @plentyoffandoms @1dluver13xx @sunshinevirus @wwenhlimagines @crowleysqueenofhell @jackson-nickthedate13 @omg-im-such-a-masochist @kmc1989

Matt Jackson Taglist: @mrsmatt @morgan-bucks @rubyred1980 @breezyvk @writtingrose @jennifuz @writtingelite @katries @siriuslyblackonback

#matt jackson #matt jackson x reader #single dad!matt jackson #teacher!reader #matt jackson imagine #matt jackson fanfiction #aew #all elite wrestling #aew imagine #aew imagines #aew fic #aew fanfiction #tear in my heart #tear in my heart series

[kyufessions]

gaming

synopsis: your boyfriend wants your attention

pairings: boyfriend! jooyeon x gamer! afab reader

genre: smut, 18+

word count: 1.3k

request: 2 + 11 ; “you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid” + “get on your hands and knees, right now”

warnings: oral (f. receiving), hair pulling, lmk if i missed anything!

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana @soobin-chois @jungsusvillain

a/n: my first request ahh i’m so excited! i hope the anon who requested this likes it! i hope to get more requests soon (o^^o)

xdinary heroes masterlist

on your days off of work, you did your schooling. on your days off of school, you worked. having both off on the same day was merely impossible, but by the grace of God you were blessed with that today. you always were ahead in your school work so you had a completely free day, which made jooyeon overjoyed. only problem was you were also a gamer who hadn’t played a single game in over two weeks due to your busy schedule. sure, you wanted to spend time with your boyfriend as well but you wanted to play with your online friends and improve your skills as well for a few hours.

jooyeon understood this, giving you your space for the next two and a half hours until you went on your date later that evening. but after finishing the book he was reading, the reruns of his favorite show weren't keeping him as occupied as he had hoped. as he sat up against the headboard staring at the television, his eyes kept wandering over to you sitting at your desk chair. your hair was slightly messy as you wore nothing but an oversized band tee of his and lacey underwear he had never seen you wear before. the concentration on your face brought butterflies to his stomach, his love for you overflowing as you did nothing but focus on your video game. but he also couldn’t help the sexual desires growing within him as you bit down on your lower lip in concentration, your occasional groans of irritation causing him to shift in his position on the bed until he had had enough.

moving from his place on the bed, he sits in the unoccupied chair next to you and makes it obvious he’s admiring you upclose. head in his hand as he ogles you, your heart starts racing as you feel his stare. losing a game match, you let out a groan of frustration as you set down your headset on the desk. as you turn your head to meet the eyes of jooyeon, you notice the face he’s making along with his eyes.

you can’t help but giggle, bringing your hand to his cheek and rubbing against the apple of it. “you’re so cute, baby.” he raises a brow, placing a small kiss on your hand. upon seeing his confusion, you decide to elaborate. “you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

as his cheeks rise in heat from embarrassment, you giggle at his widening eyes. did he think he was hiding it well? “i-i’m sorry, 자기야. you just look really good and i miss how you taste.” your boyfriend sits up fully, taking your hand in his before smashing his lips onto yours hungrily. without hesitation, he nibbles on your bottom lip as his hand swivels your desk chair around so you’re fully facing him. you feel his hands roam your body, one hand sliding under your shirt to fondle your breast as the other plays with the lace of your underwear.

moaning against his lips at the feeling of your boyfriend missing you, you pull away and grin at the string of saliva that breaks as you detach from his kiss. “get on your hands and knees, right now.” jooyeon nods eagerly, hopping off his chair and doing as instructed. he watches you slide off your underwear and toss it to the side but not before noticing the small darkened spot on them.

when he looks back up to meet your gaze, he notices you start putting on your headset and cocks his head to the side in confusion. you notice this, bringing your hand to his face as you place a kiss to his forehead. “i’m going to play as you eat me out. once i cum, i’ll stop the game and we can wash up and go on our date, deal?” nodding in agreement, he starts to move under the desk and brings his hands to your thighs. you shake your head, taking his hands and setting them on the floor. “i said hands and knees on the floor, baby. keep them there.”

before he knew it, you started another game and he started getting to work. not being able to use his hands was going to be a struggle, but whatever his partner wanted his partner got. placing a few sloppy kisses to your thighs, he stares at your glistening folds for a few seconds before fully going in. gasping as you feel his tongue get to work between your folds, you fight every urge within you to not run your fingers through his long hair and ignore the game. but you were in a team match and didn’t want to let your teammates down, but oh Lord did having jooyeon’s head between your legs make your mind go fuzzy.

jooyeon moves from your folds to your empty hole, moving his tongue in and out of it as a replacement for the fingers he can’t use. hearing you let out a gasp at his actions gave him an ego boost, and the moan following shortly after with a whimpered ‘fuck’ just gave him all the confidence he needed to take it a step further. pulling out of your hole, he moves his lips to your sensitive clit.

as soon as your boyfriend starts sucking on your nub, you shut your eyes with a string of ‘oh my gosh’’s stumbling out of your mouth. “oh my gosh, right there baby.” you quickly look down at jooyeon, his eyes meeting yours as you feel his tongue start flicking at your sensitivity. at this point, the game doesn’t matter to you. nothing does but this moment and the feeling you were being provided with by your lover. you throw off your headphones, dropping them to the floor as you start grinding against his face with your hand in his hair guiding him. “yes, right there. you treat me so good.”

the pattern of your breathing was becoming irregular and moans higher in pitch, signaling you were coming close to your release. as you tug on his hair harder, he sticks his tongue in your hole one last time before moving back to your clot and sucking eagerly. before he knew it, your moans were bouncing off the wall and his face was being covered in your juice. jooyeon wasted no time licking you clean, savoring your taste as he smiled against your folds from finally being able to hear your sweet sounds again.

once your breathing starts to regulate and your grip on his hair loosens, jooyeon pulls away and gets out from under the desk. as your body relaxes in the chair after having a mindblowing orgasm for the first time in a long while, you hear jooyeon get up from the floor and sit back in the chair next to you. fluttering your eyes open, you notice how wet the lower half of his face is and giggle. pulling open a desk drawer, you pull out a small pack of tissues and start wiping away all of your release on his face.

“sorry about that, you just really know how to use your mouth.” you say before pecking his lips.

he pecks your lips back, his big smile seeming permanent on his face. “it’s okay, i like when you use me how you want.” his eyes trail from yours to the floor, noticing the newly broken headset and picking it up. “i’ll buy you a new headset at the mall today since this one broke.”

you pout, taking the headset from his hands and inspecting it. “are you sure? i would feel bad.”

#kyufessions xdh #xdh #xh #xdh smut #xh smut #xdinary heroes #xdinary heroes hard hours #xdinary heroes jooyeon #xh jooyeon #xdinary heroes smut #lee jooyeon #jooyeon smut #xdh jooyeon #🌙 completed requests