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anadiasmount · 4 months

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a taste of something sweet - ruben dias x reader.

quick sum: fiance! ruben coming home after the cwc final, and not being able to spend a single second away from reader. seeing her with family has him confessing more than he originally proposed for. insta au included at end! tiny smut, so minors dni! 🤍🎄

wc: 1.7k | masterlist | ruben’s masterlist

psa🗣️: hi angels!🤍 miss you all! it’s been a MINUTE since i posted for ruben, but here’s something for us ruben girlies for christmas time! hope you enjoy! 🤍🎄

“ruben!” you squealed, waiting for him to fully come in before throwing your arms over his shoulders. ruben let out a deep chuckle, and picked you up behind your thighs, sighing in content at being with you again. you had the biggest fear he wouldn't be back before christmas eve, and that your plan to have both families over would be ruined. expect that wasn't it, and here stood your world champion.

“i missed you so much princesa,” ruben set you down and kissed you deeply, grunting in delight at tasting your cherry lips again. “me too you have no idea, but you're back and that is all that matters to me,” your foreheads leaned into each other, as you ran your hand through his hair.

“i passed by to get the last minute stuff so we could pack into the coolers, and i got you these as well,” ruben walked to where his luggage stood, locking the door first and then pulled out a bouquet of white and red roses, smirking at your awe reaction. “they’re are gorgeous ruben,” your finger traced the petal, bring the bouquet to your nose and smelling the flowers. “thank you belo.”

ruben blushed at acknowledgment, wrinkled crinkling in his eyes. he kissed your forehead before dragging you into the kitchen. “i know i called you earlier, but i want you to know how proud i am of you handsome. a treble winner, supercup, and now a world champion? you have no idea the immense feeling i have for you, and to see you smiling after these past weeks? my heart is just full of joy.”

ruben had been quiet these past week, from training, to recovery, to the games and unexpected results, it was taking a toll on him. he didn’t show much emotion, let alone tell anyone how he truly felt, but you could read him from the back of your hand. if he needed you there he was, you vowed to that after he proposed after the unforgettable night in istanbul.

if he needed space you would respect that, waiting as much as much time he need to process and then come find you fully. if he wanted to talk and express how he felt, he would pull you into his chest, whispering and not fully saying too much out loud, just enough for him to get into a stable mindset. if there was anything ruben looked forward too or longed for, it would always be you.

“my heart is complete with you, always princesa, eu te amo,” ruben said with a deep and groggy voice, enlightening a spark inside you hearing the three words you would never get tired of hearing. it didn't feel real, to have a man like him make you feel this way, to be head over heals, to finally find that stability and security with a man who never has taken you for granted and appreciated you through the good and bad.

ruben and you spent the whole night finishing last-minute gift wrapping, and he went on to teach you his favorite portuguese cookies, opting to also make some for his family and yours. you hadn't seen your parents or sibling in weeks, and this time was perfect, being all together in a cabin, and spending your favorite holiday all together.

ruben couldn't go to sleep for some reason, continuing to talk about the season they were having, and also about the final they had just won. he also made some wedding talk, surprising you since he usually wasn't one to give an opinion unless it was about a venue, food, or invites. part of him was also nervous to see your families all together, unsure how it would play out.

he eventually fell asleep, feeling slightly guilty since he knew you were tired, and stayed up specifically to wait for him to come home. he kissed your nose and whispered a small goodnight, eventually falling asleep on top of you, finally getting the earned sleep since he could only do that when you lay with him.

ruben ensure your luggage and coolers were safely secured in the car, making the trip up north to meet your families together. the two of you were the first to arrive, having time to go buy some groceries, and unpack. although that became hard as ruben couldn't keep his hands off of you, whispering dirty words into your ear that finally made you cave in.

he longed for this. craved for this. he took his time with you, relishing every single second before your families came. groaning at the sounds you made, his name falling from your swollen kissen lips, the scratches you were leaving all over as the pleasure became to much. he was utterly obsessed with you, hitting every spot till you crumbled beneath him, ruben not far behind.

maybe it was your hormones, but you shed a tear or two when seeing you parents all over again, especially your brother who brought his wife and newborn baby up to the cabin. it was not different with ruben’s family, giving them a hug and kiss on a cheek, asking how their drive up went. catching up with his mom, and cousins.while making dinner for a whole.

it was a great idea you had gone shopping prior or else you'd be stuck, as the snow immediately came down after 4 pm. that night was spent with pure laughters, sharing old memories, drinks being poured every other few 30 minutes, and proposing goals for the new year to come.

the day of christmas eve, everyone was up to go skiing, the tour guide showed the spots you could go and safely succeed skiing. you were more than grateful it was a private part of the cabin, no cameras or fans coming up to you, you knew it came with a footballer boyfriend, now fiance, but you would never quite get used to it.

ruben was attached you, some could say maybe had separation anxiety as he always looked around to ensure you were okay, like a lost puppy. he would plaster a huge grin when he met your eyes, sending you a glance to check in if you were okay, you would nod and send him a wink.

after coming back from skiing, everyone either took a nap or began to get ready for the evening. the tree was filled with gifts, the kitchen smelt like homemade ingredients and scents, and every corner you turned was decorated with lights. you turned on a few candles and set the table, ensuring everyone had a glass and utensils.

ruben and you snuck in a shower together, avoiding his hands as he clearly desired more, but it felt too risky. you wouldn't have been able to look at anyone the same if you did had done something, or even heard you in the smallest way possible.

“gatinha, you look so beautiful,” ruben whispered, as he came up behind you, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and placing a small kiss on your neck. his nosed traced all the way way to your shoulder, not being able to get enough of how you looked and smelled, it was driving him crazy. you wore an emerald-colored silk dress, with small white kitten heels, and your hair down.

“I know we have been together all day, but it feels like i havent been able to see let alone hold you,” ruben sighed, sounding slightly upset about it. you swiftly turned around and kissed his lips, feeling as he suddenly pulled you closer, releasing a small giggle from you. “i know me too, but i promise, once everyone is asleep we can make good use of the fireplace okay?”

ruben reluctantly agreed, walking out hand to hand out to see everyone either playing a game of poker, cooking, or watching tv. you insisted on helping in the kitchen, even if it meant washing dishes or almost slightly burning yourself. your mom and his mother conversation flew, as they talked about their teenage/ adult years, and apparently a romance show the two couldn't stop gushing about.

later on, so your sister-in-law could get a break, you offered to help her watch the baby. to ruben’s surprise, he found himself glancing from time to time, a part of him wanting that with you one day. the way you cradled the baby, swayed side to side, kissed their cheek, and adjusted their beanie and blanket to make sure they weren't cold. right then and there ruben knew you were forever for him.

“come here, i know your still cold,” ruben said, bringing you to his lap, the weighted blanket covering both your bodies as you watched the fire grow slowly. it was late, too late, but the two of you couldn't sleep. ruben rubbed your back, constantly placing kisses on your head and the bridge of your nose.

you held onto the mug filled with hot chocolate, ruben dipping the cookies he made into the drink and eating them from time to time as you discussed your futures. he loved the sound of your voice, just like you did as well, it was a common thing shared among you. “i hope you know one day you'll be the mother of my kids one day y/n…” he randomly rambled.

“What?”

“you’re gonna be such a great mom one day, and i can’t wait for us to finally have mini us in the house. you mean so much to me i never want to be apart from you, i want to share everything with you,” ruben confessed, watching as your eyes went crazy to search for a tint of lies or regret. but with ruben? everything was always honest and serious, which you loved, as you valued communication.

“thank you for staying through my best and worst. for keeping my head up high and never letting me down. for me to able to come home to the woman of my dream waiting for me. to have an inspirational and loving person along my side anywhere i go,” ruben continued.

“we made that promise no? when you proposed to me? nothing will ever separate us, and i hope you know that you won't get rid of me that easily. you’re it for me ruben, have been since the first day i met you. and i can’t wait for what's to come for us,” you said smiling, kissing the red tip of his nose and then lips, where he immediately closed his eyes and snuck in. “i love you querida.” just like the fire grew in the fire place, the fire inside your chest did as well. “merry christmas, ruben.”

“merry christmas, y/n.”

———————————

rubendias posted on their feed!

rubendias

liked by: johnstones, bernandosilva, cancelo, yourusername, joaofelix, nathanake, pepteam, and 534,274 others.

rubendias: lovely way to spend christmas after being a world champion! merry christmas cityzens! 🩵🤍

tagged: @yourusername

comments:

username6000: handsy aren’t we now ruben…

johnstones: sure that picture wasn’t meant to be left in your photos?

↪️ rubendias: nope ☺️

bernandosilva: love you two! merry christmas 🩵

↪️ yourusername: thank you benny 🤍 tell isa we send our hello’s 🤍

user19: HE IS SO BEAUTIFUL WTF?

username3928: y/n why are you allowing him to post these selfies? 🙄🙄

↪️ yourusername: i haven’t. he knows he can’t post stuff like this knowing i’ll go 😵‍💫😵‍💫

joaofelix: tu mano ruben 😂🤣

username1087: y/n my gf 😣

↪️ rubendias: she’s actually my fiance ☺️

mateokovacic: 🩵

#ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias fic #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias blurb #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias insta au #footballer #football x y/n #football x reader #football imagine #football one shot

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avoxrising · 5 months

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The Feral One • Ch 18

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

Ahhh I love the wedding part

Content Warnings - None :)

You wake up to find yourself in the extra bed in Finnick’s room, your memories continue to flood back in. Why did you think asking Peeta would be a good idea? Why didn’t you listen to Finnick when he said you shouldn’t ask?

He notices you are awake and brings you a glass of water.

“Is that why you don’t want to sleep with me?” you ask him. He looks back at you with sad eyes.

“I didn’t want to trigger you,” he replied. “Once I realized you didn’t remember it felt wrong to. I couldn’t do that with you knowing you were in the dark about what had previously happened, but at the same time I knew that not reminding you was the better option.”

“I don’t know if it would trigger me,” you admit. “I don’t want it to but I’m scared it might. And what if I trigger your memories too?”

Finnick sighs as he sits down next to you. “Then we will just have to work through them together.”

“Together,” you smile.

The day of your fake wedding quickly arrives. You had been staying in Finnick’s room since your breakdown because your doctor agreed it was best for you. Finnick still had to carry sedative but he hasn’t had to use it.

You are quickly whisked off to Katniss’ room to get ready. Your fear of touch is somewhat back but having the prep team verbally explain to you what they’re doing before they touch you made it bearable.

They worked quickly, keeping your makeup simple and leaving your hair down and in its natural texture. The look was so different than a traditional capital look. You loved it. They even covered up the scar on your face, giving you a gentler look.

When you finished putting on your dress, you exit the bathroom to find Mags standing there with tears in her eyes.

“Mags!” you gasp, running to the woman and pulling her into a hug. Last you had heard she was in hiding in District 4.

“The rebels were able to fly her out last night,” Effie explains as she watches your reunion. “She wanted to be here for your fake special day.”

“Beautiful,” Mags mumbles as she touches your face. Thank goodness your makeup was waterproof.

You clutched her arm tightly as if she may disappear at any moment. You hadn’t hugged her since before the incident nor had you really spoken to her since. Despite your recent setback, you were making progress.

“Will you walk me down the aisle?” you ask her and she eagerly nods her head. The prep team hands you your shoes to put on and you finish getting ready, eager for the practice run of something you hope to do for real in the future.

Walking down the aisle felt surreal. Why were you so nervous for a fake wedding? You told yourself it was because of the cameras and let Mags continue to walk you towards Finnick.

Finnick looked stunning in Peeta’s old suit. His hair was also kept in its natural texture and his face was makeup free. Mags gave him a kiss on the hand as she handed you to him.

The ceremony was a traditional District 13 one. Plutarch had asked if you wanted to incorporate any District 4 traditions but you both said no, wanting to save them for a real wedding.

District 13 does not do vows. For them, marriage is more of a formality than a romantic occasion. Finnick and you stand there facing each other as the officiant reads off District 13’s proclamation of marriage. When the reading is done, you lean in for a kiss.

Your first public kiss with Finnick garnered cheers and cries from the crowd. Never in a million years did you ever think you would be able to love so publicly, not with Snow’s threats looming over your heads. Something about this felt so right, and you promised yourself that after the war you would marry Finnick; for real.

The reception was beautiful. Effie had picked a colorful array of flowers to decorate the hall with and Peeta had made you a wonderful cake. You spent the evening dancing with Finnick and chatting with the attendees. Eventually the event winded down and Plutarch thanked you for the footage.

The deal was done. You could now officially live with Finnick.

Taglist:

@randomgurl2326 @mystargirl-interlude @uther-pendragon-is-an-ass @yourdailymemedelivery @americanprometheuss @l3xi3luv @noisyalmonddreamer @nordicvxid @teaganthemorningstar @samatokisunfinishedcigarette @justtrying2getby @lvsticm @notplutos @innercreationflower @nexxus13 @kachelleee @helluvafire @haymitchabernathyslover @memeorydotcom @frostsword @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @giverosespls @honethatty12 @just-levyy @dd122004dd @nekee-lilac02 @impeterporker @nox-the-gay-nerd @redsakura101 @hopefulatrocity @eddiemunson4ever @fangirlvibez @kittimbo @zucchinimalfoy @sleepy-roman @secretsicanthideanymore @writerofadream @vsnrly @mayonesavegana @lilifl0wer @finnickodaddy @abbersreads @fox-bee926 @ginger-swag-rapunzel @isasalom @yizhoutv

*if the tag didn’t work please check your settings to make sure other blogs can tag you

#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick angst #finnick #mockingjay #the feral one

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sophswritingthings · 5 months

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hiiiiii! i’m not sure if requests are open but if they are, here’s an idea that i’d love to see come to fruition!

okay so: after maybe 5 or so years, mizu finally kills skeffington, roughtly (rowley?? i literally cannot remember his name 😭) and fowler, and maybe along the way she met and grew close with a woman that lived in england at the time she got there with fowler.

like, REALLY close, the most human connection either of them have ever had. but, mizu eventually has to go home, and during their goodbyes, they both try to play it cool with the whole “you were a wonderful experience” but in reality they’re both like “you were everything” and once mizu gets on the boat back to japan, they lose it. ending is up to you! ty for your time <3

pairing: mizu x fem!english!reader

warning(s): none

a/n: ya'll. I’m combining these becauseeeee they were similar enough for me to do so! hope you guys don’t mind <3

summary: after spending her time in england, mizu grows close with you. and you do the same with her. you feel an attachment, to the samurai—it’s the closest you’ve ever felt to anyone. and you never wanted her to leave; but you knew she must.

word count: 746 words / 3,948 characters

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

you knew this day was coming.

mizu had told you all about her vow; how she had sworn herself to kill the white men in japan, at the time of her birth. the men who had made her the way that she was.

and you couldn’t help but want to thank those men—because you loved the woman you had met.

mizu had finished her quest. her vow had be fulfilled.

now—it was time for her to return back to japan. one day—one night, you had together, until the boat that had gotten her here came to take her back to japan.

the day you dreaded so much.

you were sitting together, nestled onto a plush rose covered sofa.. her arm draped around your shoulder—your hand coming up to wrap around her rough hands.

it was silent. neither of you wanted to talk about it.

“okay,” you said in that british accent that you held, getting your feet. mizu gazed at you; wondering what you were doing. and what were you about to lecture her about? “neither of us want to talk about you leaving; I can see that, mizu, but.. we have to.”

she sighed, adverting her blue gaze, “what is there to talk about, (y/n)? I am leaving. I won’t see you again.”

you almost whimper at her words.

“I..” you whisper, recoiling a bit, “I-I cannot just come with you?”

mizu shook her head, “no. not in the slightest,” she hissed, her eyes narrowed. “they want to kill me for simply having the blue eyes of a white man.. what do you think they will do to you?”

you sigh, folding your arms across your chest. you knew she was right; but you couldn’t help but hold onto hope of the idea.

“than.. what shall we do?” you posed the question. what were you to do?

“we will spend what little time we have together,” she grabbed your hand, yanking you back onto the couch beside her.

despite the grim conversation; you couldn’t help but giggle at her action.

“I love you, mizu.. I truly do. I have never felt closer to anyone than you,” you rest your chin against her chest, looking up at her with wide, loving eyes.

she kissed your forehead, “I love you too, (y/n). I feel the same as you. never before have I been able to get close to anyone; yet you welcomed me with open arms. I love you.”

you were standing on the dock to the large ship, holding a small case for mizu. yes, she hadn’t come with anything but the clothes on her back and her sword.

yet you had packed away things you wanted her to have. you wanted her to have something to remind her of you, even if it was a sad idea.

you lean over to kiss her cheek, handing her the case tenderly. tears were rolling down your cheeks, smiling softly despite it all.

“.. I will miss you,” you whisper. “you.. we’re a great experience, mizu.”

she smiles, grabbing your hand and kissing—like the first time you’d met her.

“you—were everything.” she says softly, allowing her lips to linger on your hand for just a second—before the contact faded.

you watched as she boarded the boat, that case bouncing at her side..

you couldn’t bare to see her go. tears followed down your cheeks like a raging river.

no. you weren’t letting her leave; it wasn’t happening.

“mizu!” your feet were suddenly rushing you toward the boat, your heel’s clacking against the creaking wood as you ran up the boats ramp, “I-I’m not allowing you to leave. not without me.”

her eyes narrowed to slits. she wanted that; she wanted that so bad. but she couldn’t bare to put your safety at risk for her own selfish wants.

“no—you cannot—I—“

you stopped her before she could finish speaking.

“mizu, I don’t care—I will hide, if I have to—hide in the mountains where no-one will ever find me. but I wish to be with you. I need to be with you.” you hissed, your hands resting on either side of her face.

she seemed to melt at your touch; sighing.

“alright,” she conceded.

an idiot; that’s what she was. sneaking a white woman into japan; under her protection and care.

but here she was—doing it anyway.

you needn’t worry, though, you were under her protection now. and she wasn’t going to let anyone ruffle a hair on your head.

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tag(s): @the-crustation-sensation tagging even though you’ll probably see this lol <3

#mizu x you #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #blue eyed samurai #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #ask #asked and answered #x reader #request #fic request

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lfghughes · 10 months

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I need more dad Trevor with twin daughters 😭 can I please get something where he takes them out on separate daddy/daughter dates? He totally seems like the type of dad who would do whatever his babies asked of him

a/n: i had way too much fun planning this out. thank you so much for requesting it

One of the first promises that Trevor had done when he found out his girlfriend was pregnant with twins was that he would give all of them his individual attention. He wanted his daughters to know and feel that they were their own individual humans because he knew most of the people in their lives would treat them as one. He also vowed to his girlfriend that they would always find time for each other in the middle of all the chaos. This meant a lot of date nights with all three of his favorite girls.

His twins were definitely very different from each other. Since birth their personalities had been very different but as they grew up those personalities shown through more and more every day. This meant he had to get pretty creative on what to do on those solo dates with them because he wanted to pick the right activity.

Date #1 - Adeline

Adeline or Addybug as Trevor liked to call her had always been the calm sensitive baby. She thrived when it came to sitting down and reading a book or all the quieter activities. Out of the twins she was the one Trevor had to think more out of the box for because it was usually opposite of the activities he would do. But he always went above and beyond for things she liked to do. Right now both Trevor and Adeline had finished up getting their nails done at the nail salon, completely Addys idea but Trevor went along with every second of it.

Now it was his turn for her big surprise. “Remember when you told daddy you wanted to go to the butterfly garden?” Trevor asked and immediately her eyes got wide because she knew what this meant. “Are we really going?” She asked and Trevor nodded his head. As soon as she had mentioned it last week he made a mental note to see if there were any places around where she could go see butterflies up close. Eventually he had landed on this place and decided it would be fun for her.

Turns out he was right because the minute she stepped in she was amazed by everything in the garden and not just the butterflies although that was her favorite part. “I have one more surprise for you.” He told her as they walked out from the butterfly garden after she got to see everything. “Me and mommy ordered a little caterpillar kit for you and once they turn into butterflies we’ll let them out into the garden.” This was everything she wanted to hear and more. Date one was the success he had hoped for.

Date #2 - Charlotte aka Charlie

Charlotte was the fierce one of the two. It was her way or no way and even at a young age she had demanded that she get called Charlie and not Charlotte simply because she liked it better. For Trevor though she was always his Charlie Bear. Funny enough she was the easier of the pair to find an activity for because whatever meant getting her energy out was what she wanted. He could as easily take her to a trampoline place or go karting and she loved it regardless.

Typically she chose the place though because she was always very vocal about what she wanted to do and surprises were not her thing. Today she had made it clear she wanted to go horseback riding and Trevor wasn’t going to tell her no. Luckily for this one he didn’t have to research a whole lot because she had been on a horses kick lately and had already picked this activity a couple of times before. “Do you think one day I can get my own horse?” She asked once she was all done riding, her eyes looking up at her horse and he could tell by that look that this love for horses was here to stay.

“I think it’s something me and mommy will have to talk about but maybe one day.” That was a good enough answer for her, a smile immediately growing on her face. “Alright, well it’s pretty warm out so what do you say about getting some ice cream?” Trevor asked and she immediately nodded her head. “Can we call Uncle Jamie to go too?” That was going to be another yes and once again another successful daughter date.

Date #3 - The Wife

“Wow look at you.” Trevor whistled as his wife stepped out of the closet all dressed up for their dinner date. Her cheeks burning a bright pink because even after all this time Trevor managed to make her heart skip a beat with his compliments. She walked over, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Both girls told me all about their daddy daughter dates this week. Addy has been watching those caterpillars since they got here.” His wife smiled as she talked about her girls. “And Charlie said you wanted to talk to me about getting a horse?”

Okay, not his exact words but his daughter did get him there. “I told her we would think about getting her a horse.” He shrugged sheepishly before holding his hand out. “But that’s a conversation for another night because right now I have a date with my favorite girl in the whole world.”

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras blurb

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neuroprincess · 4 months

Text

Under The Skin - Rebecca Welton/Reader

Rebecca Welton/Female Reader

Summary: It's secret, away from everyone's eyes and just between them, a simple gesture that symbolically changes Y/N and Rebecca's lives.

Classification: Fluff

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, tattoos

Word count: +1000

Unrevised

Maybe it's the alcohol coursing through the veins or the gentle smile that is directed at her, but it seems so right that Y/N doesn't care about the pain and even less about tomorrow. The needle begins a little uncertainly on the skin until the woman learns to handle it with real dexterity and without trembling, both of them a little nervous. The first scratch is outlined and marked forever, halfway there. With care, Rebecca traces the half circle in the same way she saw the boys do and feels proud to see it taking shape on the forearm, small and simple, but cute and full of meaning.

"I'm almost there, darling." she whispers and hums in anticipation, looking a little petty at how excited and proud she is.

"It's crazy, isn't it?!" the younger stares at her, a moment of sobriety hitting for a second and the weight of the act weighing in the balance "Are we really doing this?"

In response, Rebecca leans in and brings their lips together in a gentle kiss, taking time to leave them, there's nothing so sweet and addictive as her girlfriend. She could stay like this forever, feeling and loving her in every way, from the soft words to the burning touches.

"God, better stop or we're not going to finish this any time soon." she laughs, reluctantly separating, and brings eyes together to analyze the next step, just one to complete "And..." turns the pen back on, drawing the last curve, this time a bit of blood comes out of the line "Done!"

"How did it look?"

"Beautiful, just like you, sugar." a kiss is placed on the girl's forehead and elegant hands stroke her hair "My good girl, you did great."

Y/N sighs and smiles happily, the sparkle in the blonde's eye making the slight burning and eventual post-drinking pain worthwhile. She'd never imagined herself doing anything like that and is sure the other one hadn't either, nevertheless after two years here they are hiding in the dark at Jamie's party with the tattoo equipment borrowed, in fact temporarily stolen, exchanging secret wedding vows, marking their rings eternally under skin and exposed to the world.

"Your turn, sweetheart."

They change the needles and following instructions from the internet the moisturizer is applied to the arm, Y/N's fingers spreading the cream along strong and delineated muscles, memorizing again every part she knows by heart, the sensitive points she caresses in cuddles on the sofa and squeezes when they're almost reaching an apex. The couple stare at each other for a millisecond in a silent request for permission, to be sure that it's really wanted.

"Go ahead." Welton encourages, trying to sound confident "I can handle the pain."

"You will not regret it?" the question is fraught with concern, fear that her partner will regret the folly of a somewhat youthful nature.

"Never, darling! Loving you is the most certain thing I have in my life." they smile complicitly and Y/N nods, continuing with the mission "We need to go to the pharmacy for ointments, which reminds me that we're also out of cotton and saline solution."

"You're really drunk."

"Drunk with love for you..."

It's not exactly pain, maybe discomfort or something, but totally bearable... if it weren't for Rebecca's hidden fear of needles. She tries to disguise it by looking away, convincing herself that it's only to be surprised. Quickly and with calculated movements, a small initial in a fine line forms on the place, she still can't turn around, half paralyzed in disbelief, having her own moment of sobriety caused by shock.

"You don't have to hide, it's okay to be afraid." the younger whispers, trying to confront her in some way, the worst part is over and the woman insists on keeping up her brave mask "Sweetheart..."

"Is it over?"

"Yes, it's over." she smiles and stretches up to place a kiss on the flushed cheeks "My good girl."

"Hey, that's my phrase!"

"That doesn't mean you're not a good girl, and totally mine."

Finally gathering courage, Rebecca looks down and almost chokes as she realizes that something really is there, engraved on her forever. The initial of Y/N's name on her and hers on Y/N. Eternally marked in a symbolic gesture, the union of their souls with homemade tattoos, sounded almost silly when the idea came up on the bar counter, but is the promise of their love for each other.

"So we..."

"We're married. My goodness, we're married!"

"It's symbolic, but..." the blonde rambles, settling on the floor so that they're face to face "Soon I'm going to put a ring on your finger, give you my surname."

"Try to imagine, Mrs. & Mrs. Welton."

"I like the sound of that, I can't wait for this moment."

"Me too, I'm really looking forward to it." Y/N whispers and closes the space between them with a passionate kiss, full of emotions that come through in every touch, barely able to contain the enthusiasm. She has married the person she most admires and as much as it was just between them, it's priceless, kind of magical "I love you! So much that I almost cry just thinking that we're wives now." manages to say when the air is needed.

"I love you more! More than anything, I don't think there are enough words to describe how deeply and passionately. And I stole a champagne to celebrate."

A bottle is taken from the handbag, chilled to the point of sweat. It's impossible not to be touched by the businesswoman's cheeky smile, who has had a lot of fun searching for the necessary items around the mansion, committing innocent little crimes for the sake of love and getting her first tattoo. All this with and for her girlfriend, engaged for half an hour and now wife.

"We've probably got about 15 minutes before someone comes looking for us, what do you think?" Rebecca nods suggestively towards the immaculate king-size bed.

"Oh, you want to go straight to the nuptials? Tempting."

"No more tempting than the things I'm thinking of doing with you when we get back home, lovely wife."

And that's another promise.

taglist: @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @unexpected-character @spenc-is-bi @imaginesmultifandoms @dvrkhcld @lovelyy-moonlight @peggy082023 @willowshadenox @storiesofsvu

Join my taglist here ^^

#rebecca welton x reader #rebecca welton #ted lasso #female reader #imagine #fanfiction

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itskindofidontknow · 9 months

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What dreams know about love?

Dream of The Endless/Morpheus x Love!OFC

Summary: The Queen of Love has grown used to the absence of her husband, the Dream King. After banning her from the Dreaming, they only saw each other when Morpheus summoned her for social or marital duties. He would go decades without calling for her, enamorated by a variety of mistresses. It broke Love's heart. Not that her husband cared. However, after being imprisioned for a century, The Dream King wants to regain his Queen's love. She doesn't believe him, not after centuries of neglect. The question is: Can dreams repair a broken heart?

Tag: Established relationship, arranged marriage, regency romance, eventual happy ending, angst, morpheus is a dick prepare to hate, love is eoster from west germanic mythology, typos are to be expected

A/N: First time bringing my work here. I posted this on my A03 it has multiple chapters, that I'll probably post it here, if you guys like. I am heavily inspired in Pride and Prejudice, Bridgertons, Marriage Story, Scenes from a Marriage, and every primetime drama of rich white people that has a stepford smiler broken bird with an impecable taste in clothes. Comments, questions are all welcome!

"He is back" A shiver runs through the silk-like skin of the Queen of Love, as her ladies and lords in waiting stare at her. It's been years since her lord husband summoned her. But she could never forget his calling.

The sacred vow they shared make it impossible to ignore or forget. A mortal silence takes over the music room where a few seconds ago, you could hear young maidens from all the different realms , daughters from different gods, suns and stars in flower crowns laughing, while dancing to the elegant harp concerto, young lords trying to find words to finish sonnets, the older ones sitting in comfortable chairs around their Queen, keeping pleasant and polite conversations or moving lazily their handfans, more from habit than from heat. Since the climate is always perfect adequate at the Garden of Lovers. The light atmosphere changed the minute Lady Love mentioned her husband. The whole court felt the cold wind whoosing through the white curtains and the sudden change of the pink and orange skies to a blue grayish color. They knew it would rain later.

As it did, since their Queen got married to before the king of dreams vanished.

"I must make haste. Alone." She announces while her maidens got up. They exchange worried looks hesitating before bowing and staying still. She knows her husband well enough to know he is not going to be in his best mood. And her maidens do not deserve to deal with him. He never was in the best mood with Love. 'Oh no, only his lovers get to see that' The Queen bitterly thought exiting the music room, almost running through the salmon marble floors that decorate the whole palace.

"My Lady". She heard Elijah running to reach her. Elijah was her most trustworthy cupid, her husband once called him ‘The Queen's Lucienne’ "My Lady Eostre, if I may speak freely, you don't have to…" She raises a hand, stopping him before he could finish and most likely commit treason. Love knew exactly what he was going to say. How she had grounds to ignore his calling, to never come to his aid ever again. After the abuse and disrespect of over a milennium. She knew it. She thought of it for years. But no matter what she thought, they were still husband and wife, king and queen, and although marriage may not be of any importance to her husband, to Love it was the most sacred institution

" Yes, I have. I must. He is still my lord husband as I am his lady wife, we made a sacred vow" The Queen looked sternly to her cupid, warning him " My good cupid, be careful, Dream is still your king, and one could take your words for treason" It was well-known that it is not wise to commit treason against an Endless, and to even suggest that a Endless' wife shouldn't come to his request was a dangerous territory. He lowered his head in respect "Apologies my Queen. It is a joyful occasion if our King is back." A mechanic polite answer. She nods in agreement, even if his face was heavy with worry for Eostre and not at all showing any joy in Morpheus return.

The lovefolk was not fond of the Dream King. They saw how their Queen's spirit got crushed with a loveless marriage over the centuries. How careless, and neglectful her husband was. Everytime Love would come back from the Dreaming, the entire Garden flooded with rain, mirroring the Queen 's tears, as she would lock herself in the bedroom and cry for days. She could never tell which was worse: Her husband ignoring her, without even a single kind word or a glance or when he impatiently acknowledged her, treating her as she was a burden to bear, a constant annoyance he needed to deal with.

The Queen of Love, however, believed in love, she believed that if she just tried hard enough, Morpheus would see her devotion, and they could actually have a happy fulfilling marriage. Love, better than anyone else, knew that most arranged marriages were a disaster. However as anthropomorphic manifestations of love and dreams, they weren't so different.

Mortals either dreamed of love or loved to dream for as long as they were created. Their marriage made sense. They even inspired the same mortal in two different occasions. He inspired a play called Midsummer Night's Dream, and she inspired Romeo and Juliet. They could be happy. She strongly believed in it.

How naive she was.

Dream didn't agree with their union from the beginning. A trick from his dear sibling, Desire, that became a political marriage. When Dream realize his sibling’s trap, it was already too late. Lady Love was infatuated by the love letters she received from her fiance (who, she later discovered, never wrote her any letter. Desire did. Misleading Love to elope). A few mischievous squemes made their union impossible not to happen.

As a Queen, Eoster tried for years everything a good monarch could: She tried to learn everything about the Dreaming, followed Lucienne around, asking for help to understand the dreamfolk, the laws of the Dreaming. Everything in her power to best fulfill her duties and help her husband with the burdens of a realm. She learnt how to love the dreamfolk, to care for them, to even bring peace of mind to distressed nightmares, to explain and defend her husband's harsh ways, to ease heavy hearts. It was easy for the dreamfolk to adore and become devoted to The Queen of Love.

As a wife, Love was by Morpheus' side at every official event and Endless reunion. She wanted to be more than just a lady wife, she wanted to be his partner. So eager to be a part of his life, although he didn't seem interested to be a part of hers.

Never even bothering to visit the Garden of Lovers, his wife's realm. Even with the king neglect and coldness, the Queen kept loyal and faithful. Dream could scan her sleep and never find any sinnful thought about a secret lover. She never wished for anyone besides him. Even with plenty of opportunities and suitors, her doves bringing letters of poems and sonnets from devoted mortals to sun-gods, praising her beauty, eager for her kisses, suffering from her loyalty, even then, Love never took a lover or indulged in immoral activities.

Eoster was ever obedient and submissive. An Endless outranked her, so due to her status. and to tradition, she never spoke out of turn or raised her voice. She always abide by his commands and attended to his every need. Even in private, she was dutiful. Never denying her husband, opening her legs to welcome him, whenever and wherever he saw fit. She would let him rip off beautiful long nightgowns, designed especially for nuptials, gladly taking him for as long as he wanted. Most times, she didn't take great pleasure in it. and Morpheus always seemed to be performing a duty. He didn't whisper sweet nothings, was gentle or cared for her after.

That was the first piece of her heart to be broken by her husband. To realize she was nothing but a quick-release for him. Only useful to scratch an itch he happened to have. As a goddess of love, purity, marriage and fertility, she knew how intimacy between lovers could be of burning passion, beautiful, caring, a true lovers' dance. How cruel her husband was to deny her, of all entities, even this pleasure. But he did. And the worst part was that Love knew he didn't even know he was causing pain, he just didn't care enough.

Another thing she didn't expect was that they almost never shared his bed for the night. Most of the times, after fulfilling the Dream King's needs in bed. She would be dismissed to her private chambers. ‘Like a common whore’ she often thought. If Morpheus ever thought of her, embarrassed, half-naked, wrapped in sheets, tip toeing crossing the corridor to her room, he never said anything. Love would especially be ashamed when bumping into Lucienne. The librarian always offered a respectful bow, looking over her glasses. Professionalism wouldn't let her say a thing, but the Queen could see the pity in the librarian's eyes, as Lucienne could see the Queen’s cheeks wet of tears.

As she savoryly remembers the nights of being used and discarded, she squeezes Elijah hand in reassurance "My sweet love child, worry not. I'll be back before you know it".

And just like that, the Queen of Love returned to her husband.

#the sandman fanfic #dream of the endless fanfic #the sandman #morpheus x reader #morpheus x wife #morpheus x ofc #dream of the endless x reader #lord morpheus #eoster #queen of love #sandman netflix

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aisclosed · 1 year

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Match Found ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - 8. night night

Synopsis: Jungwon is sick of his friends' constant teasing over his lack of gaming skills. Determined to secretly improve and prove enha wrong, Jungwon sets out to learn to play, except he has no clue where to begin. Luckily for him, y/n is a girl with too much time on her hands, a desperate need for distraction and is more than happy to indulge him. Only, things are never that simple and Jungwon soon finds it difficult to explain exactly what the pair have become.

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smau + (3.3k) written work (srry lol i have no excuse )

warnings: mentions of death and parental neglect. mentions of injury and blood. cursing.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I gotta go,” Jungwon curses to himself as he hops around the room, pulling on his sneakers and grabbing his hoodie off of his chair. Running his fingers through his hair, Jungwon spins aimlessly in the middle of his room, eyes darting around frantically for a glimpse of his keys and wallet.

Fucking hell. I don't have time for this. I'll just text someone to let me in tomorrow. Jungwon abandons the seemingly impossible task and bursts out of his room, startling Heeseung who looks up at him through a mouthful of ramen.

“Hyung, I need your car. I'll bring it back sometime tomorrow. Where are your keys? Jungwon asks, feet tapping impatiently against the floor.

Heeseung only stares back in wide eyed confusion, swallowing harshly. "Woah Jungwon, you good? Where are you even heading out this late?"

Jungwon groans in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look hyung, I need to get to Y/N's right now. It's important and I'm worried. Can we please save the story time for later? Either give me your keys or I'm just gonna run there."

Heeseung' stare softens at Jungwon's anxious demeanor and he pushes away from the table, standing up. "I'll drive you, it's not safe for you to be on the road when you're this worked up. Come on, let's go"

Jungwon doesn't wait for Heeseung to finish his sentence, walking briskly out the door without a second glance. Heeseung gives his half eaten bowl of ramen one last doleful look "I'll be back for you baby girl,” sighing as he follows Jungwon out.

The car ride is tense to say the least. Any attempts of making jokes or small talk are quickly shut down by a sharp glare from the passenger seat. Jungwon knows he's being irrational, that Heeseung is doing him a favor and he should be grateful and much nicer. But the hammering of his heart against his ribs won’t allow him to act rationally and he knows that Heeseung understands, he always does. So Jungwon vows to thank him and apologize properly later but for now, he allows his mind to be consumed by thoughts of you.

As the car finally turns down the familiar street of your place, Jungwon's fingers drum insistently against his bouncing thigh. His energy begging to be expended as he resists the urge to just jump out of the car and run up all 42 flights to your side. A gentle pat on his shoulder brings him back to reality, and Jungwon turns to meet his friend's warm gaze.

"Don't worry Jungwon. Y/N seems like a strong girl. I'm sure she’s fine. And even if she's not, she will be eventually." Heeseung says softly.

Jungwon nods stiffly, willing himself to believe Heeseung's words.You were fine. You had to be. "You can pull over here hyung, it's that building. Thanks for taking me" he mutters quietly, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Alright Jungwon, do you want me to wait for you out here? Or go up with you?" Heeseung asks as the car rolls to a stop.

"No. Go home hyung. I'll see you tomorrow." Jungwon says firmly and takes off in a brisk jog.

Knowing he was almost at his destination did nothing to calm the jitters that ran down his spine. If anything, it just spurred him to run even faster, ignoring the curious looks he got as he moved through the familiar lobby, dashing into the waiting elevator.

Come on, come on, come on. Y/N why the fuck do you have to live all the way at the top. The numbers on the elevator ascend at a tortuous pace and Jungwon feels as if he might just lose his mind. The chime of the doors opening finally puts him out of his misery and Jungwon sends up a silent prayer that Chenle was right about your code as he punches it into the keypad.

A green flash assures Jungwon that his luck hadn’t run out completely and he walks in, blinking as his eyes adjust to the darkness. Your house is eerily silent, only illuminated by the lights of the metropolis outside your windows.

"Y/N?" Jungwon calls out anxiously, moving towards your room, receiving no answer in return. Jungwon’s ears prick at the faint sobs coming from the opposite direction and he goes to your living room to find you sitting on the floor staring out the large windows. He approaches you cautiously, there's a crunch under the boot of his shoe and Jungwon looks down in confusion to find the marble covered in shards of glass and swirls of red fluid. For a moment, Jungwon’s heart drops to his stomach but he breathes a sigh of relief as the astringent smell hits his nose and he realizes the culprit is wine.

Your head turns away from the cityscape at the sound of crushed glass, brows knitting in confusion when you find Jungwon staring back at you.

"Jungwon? What are you doing here?" You ask breathily, eyes dilating as you take in his appearance.

He rakes his eyes over your figure, scanning for any trace of injury and for a second Jungwon is at a loss for words. Your eyes are rimmed red, cheeks still streaked with the remnants of tears and yet Jungwon can’t help the way his breath hitches at the sight of you under the moonlight. It’s almost hauntingly beautiful and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to forget how you look up at him that night.

"Chenle told me what happened. ,” Jungwon starts carefully, “Your friends said that you weren't answering their calls. I was- We were worried about you,"Jungwon amends.

Your eyes prick at the reminder of what exactly had gotten you into your current state. You wipe furiously at your eyes, glaring out the window. "He shouldn't have bothered you with this shit. I'm sorry you had to come all this way Jungwon, I was just being stupid and dramatic."

A mix of shame and anger swirls at the pit of your chest at the realization that once again you had troubled and burdened your friends. You know better, you silently reprimand yourself, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

You push yourself up to your feet, ignoring Jungwon's warnings in your haste to get up. "I'll message them. You can go home I'm fine-" you wince, your words halting at the feeling of a sharp sting against your palm.

In a flash, Jungwon is by your side, firmly grabbing your wrist. "I told you to be careful. You are not fine. And I am not going to go home." He says firmly, staring into your eyes with a steely gaze.

Dumbly, you nod back at him and he huffs, looking down and examining the beads of blood that have begun to pool in the crevices of your palm. "It doesn't look that deep but we should still disinfect it and wrap it. Do you have a first aid kit?"

"In my room," you mutter . And Jungwon hums, promptly picking you up bridal style ignoring the startled gasp that escapes your lips. “There's glass on the floor," Jungwon cuts you off before you can protest, carrying you over to your room.

He pushes the door open deftly with his shoulder, setting you down on your bed. You look at him with slight amusement, entertained by how seriously Jungwon was taking his job as your caretaker.

He looks at you expectantly and you smile, “The kit’s in my bedside table, second drawer,” you offer helpfully, to which he nods and begins rummaging through your cabinet.

Unable to resist teasing any longer, you clear your throat and speak up, “You know you could've just gotten me my slippers or something instead of carrying me Jungwon,” you smirk.

You laugh as he visibly pauses mid search, mumbling a "shut up", his ears glowing a faint red. Jungwon brings the first aid kit over to you, batting your hand away as you try to take it from him.

"I can do it," you offer, pursing your lips as Jungwon deadpans at you, pulling your injured hand into his lap. "Your dominant hand is literally cut and bleeding Y/N. How are you going to disinfect and bandage this big ass gash with only one hand?"

"I’ve seen people do it all the time in movies, it can’t possibly be that hard. I’ll be fine,” you whine, trying to yank your hand away from his grasp.

Jungwon scoffs, flicking your forehead, "Stop being stubborn and just let me take care of you."

"I don't know if I can trust you to take care of me if you're assaulting your patients like this," you pout, rubbing your forehead. "At least put on a sexy nurse costume or something, it’ll make you look more reliable.”

Jungwon doesn't dignify your joke with a response, focusing instead on your wound. He carefully wipes away the blood, checking for any stray pieces of glass. With a warning, he gently presses the antiseptic to your cut, whispering an apology when you wince. He diligently bandages your hand, turning it over and tracing the bandage gingerly to make sure it's entirely secure. You watch wordlessly as Jungwon’s fingers graze the curves of your hands and fingers, his touch feather light.

Looking up at your uncharacteristic silence, Jungwon’s not quite sure what to make of the emotions that pool in your eyes. There’s a foreign intensity behind them and his eyes can't help but flicker down to your lips. The air is stifling and Jungwon wants nothing more than to close the distance, to draw the air he so desperately needs from your lips.

Instead, he opts to look away, coughing awkwardly. "All done. You should probably change" he gestures to your wine stained dress. You look at him in contemplation, noting the slight flush on the back of his neck, watching as his Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows, eyes trained on your wall.

Taking pity on him, you walk towards your dresser, letting the tension dissipate into the stale air. You rifle through your clothes, pulling out a pair of shorts and an oversized tee that either Chenle or Haechan had left behind during your group sleepovers.

“Turn around, I’m gonna change,” you warn half-heartedly, waiting for a beat before starting to tug your dress over your head. Jungwon immediately turns, busying himself with his phone. He shoots both Chenle and Heeseung a text, assuring both of them that everything was alright, desperately trying to block out the sounds of rustling fabric behind him.

Jungwon keeps his head bowed, eyes glued to his screen until he feels the bed dip next to him and a slight tug on the hem of his shirt. “You texted Chenle?” you ask casually, humming when he nods in confirmation.

You try to feign nonchalance but struggle to meet Jungwon’s eyes as you prepare yourself for the conversation ahead. “So, he told you?”

"Yeah." Jungwon admits quietly.

"About what happened today? Or everything.”

"Everything."

"Hm, I see.” you fiddle absentmindedly with Jungwon’s shirt, pulling at the stray threads in the frayed ends.

“I'm sorry that he told me. And I'm sure Chenle's sorry he had to tell me as well. He was just worried about you,” Jungwon prods tentatively, unsure of your reaction.

“No, I know. I get it. It’s my fault for not responding and putting him in that position in the first place.” you let out a puff of frustration. “ I just wish I could've told you everything on my terms, explained properly. This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

Jungwon tucks your hair behind your ear, nudging you encouragingly, “Then do it. Explain it to me how you would’ve if today didn’t happen.”

You take a deep breath, instinctively reaching out to play with Jungwon’s fingers for a sense of comfort and give him a wobbly smile.

“So, like Chenle told you, my mom passed away a few days after giving birth to me. There were some complications during the procedure and she never recovered.

I know that my dad resents me for her death. That if he had the choice he would've chosen her over me. And I can't really blame him. The woman he fell in love with and built a whole life around, gone, and just for a baby he didn't have any attachment to yet.

At first I didn’t really understand the situation, so I did everything I could just to get even a speck of his attention. But as I grew older, I pieced together the truth from the whispers from my nannies and my dad’s staff. And then it became more than just looking for his attention, I felt like I had to prove my worth somehow. I had to prove that I wasn't just useless, that my mom hadn't given up her life for me just to amount to nothing.

I wanted to make him believe that her choice was justified. I don't think I'll ever be able to get my dad to think so. I’ve known that for a long time.” You draw a shaky breath, tears streaming down your cheeks slowly. Jungwon’s heart clenches at the sight and he pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back soothingly as you try to continue.

“But then something like this happens, he gives me the slightest indication that something might change. And it's like I'm 7 years old all over again. On that stage holding a stupid trophy that's bigger than me. Flashing lights and photographers, searching in a sea of faces for the one person that will never be there.”

“And I'm so, so, tired of being disappointed,” your voice cracks with emotion, “Tired of even having any expectations. It happens every time.”

“ He left. He knew that I was waiting for him and he just left. With nothing but a stupid bottle of wine as a gift. Not a note that said happy birthday, or even goodbye.” you mutter bitterly.

Your vision blurs with hot, angry tears, “He's never once wished me happy birthday. That's all I ever wanted from him. But he can’t give me that, he thinks spending money will help us both ignore the reality that he can’t stand to be around me. So I’m left with a bottle of wine that's as old as me and probably costs more than someone’s yearly salary. Another reminder of everything he's given me and everything I will never amount to in his eyes.”

“And I was just so mad, I picked it up and threw it against the wall. I only ended up making a huge mess and getting hurt so I guess my plan backfired,” you laugh sardonically.

“I probably should've sold it or given it to Chenle, so that was stupid of me but I just couldn't look at it anymore,” your voice dies into a soft whisper.

Jungwon tilts your face up to meet his gaze, brushing away the stray tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Happy Birthday Y/N . I'm so glad that you're here and that I’m able to be by your side. Even if that means running across the city in the middle of the night" He says, knocking his forehead against yours affectionately.

You give a watery laugh, eyes welling up at the sincerity in his tone. You lean your forehead onto Jungwon's shoulder "Thanks Yang Jungwon, it means a lot. I'm sorry for getting tears and snot all over your hoodie"

Jungwon snorts in response, smoothing over your hair, “Occupational hazard of being your best friend I guess.”

Best friend. You laugh to yourself at the absurdity of the situation. It was insane how in such a short amount of time Jungwon has carved out a space for himself in your heart. Your smile fades, your mood sobering slightly as doubts begin to creep back into the corners of your mind.

"Hey Jungwon?" you ask hesitantly.

"Yeah Y/N?"

You’re unable to meet Jungwon’s questioning gaze, resolving to play with the strings of his hoodie instead. “You’ll tell me right if I'm being too much? Before you’re sick of me?” you ask softly.

Jungwon leans back to look at your face with furrowed brows, “What the fuck are you on about Y/N, I’m not gonna get sick of you.”

You swat at Jungwon’s arm lightly, “You can't say that for sure. Everyone has limits and boundaries and unfortunately I have a tendency of finding those limits and pushing them unknowingly.”

You gesture to yourself with a wave of your hand. “This whole parental trauma, daddy issues thing, it can be a lot. And I have a bad habit of being overly attached and clingy to people. It's suffocating, I know. So just tell me okay? I’d rather know and dial it back than push you away and lose you entirely.”

Jungwon sighs and pulls you closer, placing a chaste kiss on your temple. “You're being ridiculous Y/N that's not gonna happen. I could never get sick of you. If anything you'll be sick of me.”

“Just promise me? Please?”

He rolls his eyes in exasperation, “Fine. If I wake up one day and decide that I’m suddenly sick of you, I promise you’ll be the first to know”.

“Thanks Wonnie”, you smile in satisfaction, stifling a yawn behind the back of your hand.

"Aww, is my birthday girl tired?” he teases gently, glancing at your clock. 2:14 A.M.

“You should go to sleep now Y/N" Jungwon shifts you so that you’re laying on the bed and you quickly situate yourself under the blankets. Once he’s tucked you into your bed sufficiently, Jungwon stands with a slight stretch, ignoring the way his muscles protest at the movement.

You cock your head in confusion, tugging him back by the sleeve of his hoodie "You're not staying?”

Jungwon blinks at you blankly, “I am, I'll just take the floor. Or the couch.”

You smile sleepily up at him, "Don't be stupid Jungwon." You scoot over, lifting the blanket and patting the empty space next to you in invitation.

Jungwon merely gapes at you in response and you snicker at his vacant expression.

“Jungwon, we literally cuddle in bed all the time, it's no different just because it's nighttime. Look, I'll even stay on my side of the bed okay?” You scoot back further to the edge of your bed, looking at him expectantly.

Wordlessly Jungwon huffs, kicking off his shoes and shedding his hoodie. He clambers into your bed, exhaling lowly as he turns to face you.

From the gap across the bed Jungwon watches as you give him a pleased smile, cheek squishing into the pillow and your hair splaying out behind you. He can't look away from the way your eyes shine in moonlight, staring back at him with a fondness that makes his heart stutter.

“Night night, Wonnie," you whisper playfully, reaching out to lightly pinch at Jungwon's cheek.

His eyes flutter close at the feeling of the pads of your fingers against his cheek and he groans internally.

Fuck it. Jungwon rolls his eyes in surrender, and pulls you closer to him, tucking you into the crook of his neck, a position that's way too familiar to him at this point.

And maybe Jungwon really should reevaluate where he's at because the way his hand slides to rest at the small of your back is all too natural. And the feeling of your breath against his neck should really be unsettling but it’s not.

He really should think about it, but right now it's nearly 3 AM and he doesn't have the energy to question how perfectly you fit against him. How you feel a bit too much like home.

“What happened to me staying on my side of the bed,” you ask slyly in the most innocent tone you can muster. Jungwon can feel your barely concealed smile against his collarbone and punishes your taunt with a swift tug at your hair, enticing a snicker from your lips.

"Shut up and go to sleep" he grumbles, and you laugh freely, burrowing comfortably into his arms. Jungwon can’t help but let his lips lift at the sound, and tightens his hold around you, waiting until he hears the faint puffs of your slumber before letting himself succumb to his dreams.

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a/n: chenle rlly is jungwon's biggest supporter asjks carrying the y/nwon ship.

my longest chapter yet hhh i hope y'all enjoyed . I kinda cringed but :) lmk ur thoughts n feelings . Jett voice: night night!

taglist: open! send me an ask to be added! <3

@woncloudie @itsactuallylina @ifearjwn @fadedluvv @mangowonyo @xiaoderrrr @shinsou-rii @aki1e @makiswrld @jaehaki @criyiy @ilovewonyo @zeraaax @climbingmandevillas @pkjay @flower-lise @koudnd @beomgyusonlywife

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lendeah · 4 months

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After the Weave 3.

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Summary: Elara and Astarion go to the ball with the aim of securing support, but navigating high society comes with its own set of perils.

Pairing: Astarion x OFC!Tav, past Gale x OFC!Tav

Tags: Angst, Drinking to Cope, References to Depression, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Emotional Baggage, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Post-Break Up, Tav finds herself again with Astarion, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD.

Word count: 4.3k

Also on AO3

"Godlike power, perhaps I can live without, but you?

You're everything"

The memory tugs at my mind, that moment beneath the rich purple sky, when everything felt within my grasp beside him. I can still see it clearly - the way his eyes gazed at me, filled with adoration and vows of forever. But now, as I finish tightening the corset with a sharp pull, the long red ball gown hugging my curves perfectly, I realize that those were just empty promises. Lies upon lies.

The crimson silk hugs my curves beautifully, though as I walk the long halls, each step becomes a battle against the uncomfortable fabric that makes me trip repeatedly. A beautiful dress indeed, but one that brings discomfort and pain with every move. Just like Gale's love.

Astarion is waiting by the entrance, looking as disinterested as ever, his face a mask of boredom. He is dressed in a crimson and black suit that hugs his form in all the right places. I can't help but admire how the fabric accentuates his lithe frame, the way it compliments his pale skin and emphasizes the white of his curls.

As his eyes finally land on me, something changes in them. There's a flicker of surprise and admiration before he quickly masks it with his usual sneer.

"That is a nice dress, I wonder who made it. They sure are talented, for making you of all people look regal."

I roll my eyes, "I don't even know how they got all my measures right. I mean, I don't think anyone has ever measured me, to begin with."

Astarion smirks, his eyes roaming over my form with a hint of amusement."Ah, well, I do recall taking your measurements once. However, that was quite some time ago, my dear, so you may have forgotten it."

I frown, and then a flicker of a memory flashes through my mind, and I can see Astarion's skilled fingers and his concentrated expression as he took my measurements with meticulous precision.

"You shared my measurements with a seamstress to make this dress?" I ask, surprised that he went to such great lengths for our work at the grand ball.

Astarion's eyes become unreadable for a second, and then he nods. "Yes, of course. It wouldn't do for you to arrive at the ball looking anything less than perfect." His tone is laced with sarcasm, but I can sense a hint of sincerity behind his words.

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. "You never cease to surprise me, bloodsucker." I say, approaching him slowly. "Thank you for your help."

His smirk softens into a small smile and he bows slightly in response. "It was my pleasure, Lady Elara."

His voice is dripping with mock formality, and I can't help but chuckle at his antics. I gesture towards the door. "Shall we, Sir. Ancunín?"

Astarion extends his arm to me like a gentleman, and I take it gratefully, feeling strangely comforted by his touch.

Just as we are about to step into the grand carriage, he stops and turns to face me once again. "Are you absolutely certain about this? We can stay here if you'd like, especially after... the missive."

I wince to myself. I knew he would want to talk about the letter sooner or later, but I thought I had done a pretty good job avoiding the subject for the past few days. Aparently, it hadn't been enough.

"Yes, I'm sure. The sooner we get this over with, the better." I say dismissively.

He looks at me intently, his eyes searching for any signs of hesitation or doubt. Then, his expression softens as he nods in understanding. "Very well then, shall we go?"

We climb into the grand carriage, and make our way towards the palace where the ball is being held. The ride is a quiet one, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I steal subtle glances at the man in front of me. He looks mesmerizing, as always, with his white, tousled hair falling just so over his forehead, accentuating the sharp angles of his face. His crimson eyes, usually filled with mischief, now hold a hint of worry that he's trying to conceal, and I have to fight the urge to smooth the lines that have formed in his forehead.

I catch myself staring and quickly avert my gaze, focusing on the passing scenery outside the carriage window. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a silvery glow on the city. Lately I feel like I'm constantly living in the night, between the walls of the Palace. I guess that is how Astarion's life has felt in the last few months, back in the shadows without the tadpole giving him immunity to the sunlight. I can't help but pity him, as the memories of his pale body basking in the morning light flash through my mind.

As we near the palace, Astarion finally breaks the silence between us. His voice is softer than before, almost hesitant.

"When was the last time you practiced the art of sorcery?" he asks, with his eyes still fixed on the window.

I feel myself freeze up at the question. It's been months since Gale left, and with him went my motivation to even touch a spellbook or scroll. Every hint of magic reminded me of him, and I couldn't bring myself to face that pain again.

"It's been a while," I admit reluctantly. "Since Gale left."

Astarion nods in understanding, but there is a hint of dissatisfaction in his expression. "That's a shame. You were good," he says firmly, finally looking at me.

I meet his gaze, feeling a mixture of gratitude and irritation. Astarion always had a way of cutting through the chaos in my mind and speaking truths that I didn't want to confront. He was right, of course. I had allowed Gale's departure to shatter not only my heart but also my connection to magic. A wave of regret washes over me as I realize how easily I had let go of something I loved so much, how easily I had forgotten myself.

"I know," I reply, my tone softer than I anticipated. "It's just... difficult. Every time I try to conjure a spell or tap into that part of myself, I can't help but think of him."

"Ah, I understand the pain of reminders all too well," he murmurs with a wry smile. "But Elara, you cannot let him, or anyone for that matter, define who you are or what you're capable of. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for."

His words stir something within me, an ember of determination that has been smoldering beneath the ashes of heartbreak. Perhaps he's right. Perhaps it's time to reclaim my magic. But not now, I tell myself, there would be time for that after we finish doing what we came here to do.

As we step out of the carriage and into the entrance of the castle, my mouth falls open. I didn't even know such extensive grounds could fit in Baldur's Gate's narrow streets. The palace, lit up by hundreds of lanterns and torches, looks like something out of a fairytale. The gardens are filled with colorful flowers and fountains, and the marble steps leading to the entrance are lined with statues of ancient gods.

Astarion catches me staring in awe and smirks. "Remarkable, isn't it? A chance to join the illustrious Duke at his grand ball is a rare privilege indeed."

"Wait, Duke? As in Duke Ravengaard? As in, Wyll's dad?"

Astarion nods, "Yes, the very same. I'm surprised you didn't know, it must've slipped my mind to tell you." But the mischief in his eyes tells me he most definitely didn't.

As we make our way into the grand ballroom, I find out the grand hall is just as breathtaking as the exterior. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a warm golden glow on everything below. People dressed in extravagant gowns and suits dance to music played by musicians in one corner of the room. As Astarion and I enter the room, all eyes turn towards us with a flurry of emotion. Some gaze at us with curious intrigue, while others openly display their desire. But the dominant reaction is one of pure fear, evident in the way they shrink back and avoid eye contact.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that have resurfaced at the sight of so many eyes on us. Astarion must sense this, because he takes my hand on his cold one and squeezes it reassuringly.

"Relax," he whispers with a smile. "Just be your usual 'Savior of Baldur's Gate' self and you will be more than fine."

As we reach the ballroom, I can see it is filled with high-ranking officials, nobles and other powerful figures, all dressed in their finest attire. I try to remember the individuals Astarion had taught me about, but there are too many and the names and occupations are mixing in my brain. In a sea of unfamiliar faces, one stands out amongst the rest. Duke Ravengard approaches us, with a welcoming smile dancing on his lips. He reminds me so much of Wyll that a wave of emotions hit me like a punch to the gut.

Before I can even say anything, Astarion steps forward and greets the man with a respectful bow. "Your Grace," he says smoothly, "allow me to introduce the Savior of Baldur's Gate. Rumor has it, she once saved you from certain death in the not-so-distant past."

I feel my cheeks heat up at the remark. The Duke's eyes widen in recognition before a warm smile forms on his lips.

"Ah, Elara. What an honor to see you again," he says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "I've heard tales of your brave deeds for our city, and we are all in your debt."

I manage to give him a small smile and a nod.

"It was a pleasure, sir."

He chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Modesty becomes you, my dear." He says with a smile. A flicker of sadness appeared in his eyes as he asked "Have you happened upon any news of my son? I recall that the two of you were once close friends."

My heart sinks at the mention of Wyll. I haven't heard from him since he left for the Avernus with Karlac, but seeing how important Duke Ravengard is to him, I decide to be honest.

"I'm afraid I haven't heard from Wyll in quite some time."

The Duke's expression falls slightly but he nods understandingly. "I see. Well, if you do happen to come across him in your travels, please let him know that his father misses him dearly."

"I will," I promise solemnly.

He pauses for a second, and then adds "But let us not dwell on the past tonight. This is a night of celebration and joy!"

As the Duke leads us further into the ballroom, Astarion walks beside me, his eyes flickering with a mix of amusement and mischief. "Well, well, Lady Elara," he whispers. "How greedy you are, relishing in all the glory"

I roll my eyes at his teasing remark but can't help but feel a sense of pride bubbling within me. Standing in the midst of power and privilege, I can't help but feel that maybe I do deserve this recognition.

As we continue to mingle among the crowd, a smooth voice catches my attention. I turn to see a blonde elf woman approaching us, drink in hand.

"Ah, Astarion, dearest," she says with a charming smile as she reaches us. "What a pleasure to meet you again."

Astarion smiles back at her and gives her a slight bow. "The pleasure is all mine, Lady Shaphyra."

I remember now. Her name is Lady Shaphyra Boldsong, daughter of one of the most influential elven families in Baldur's Gate. And she and Astarion seem to know each other quite well, by the looks of it.

"I see you have brought a lovely companion with you," she says, turning her gaze towards me. "The Savior of Baldur's Gate, no less. And she is a half-elf! What a delightful surprise."

I feel my cheeks flush once again as I am introduced for the second time tonight. But Lady Saphyra doesn't seem to mind as she bows towards me.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she says warmly.

I bow back. "Likewise, Lady Saphyra."

She turns back to Astarion, with a sly smile on her lips. "I couldn't have imagined you keeping such remarkable company. Is she also lending a hand in funding the hospital?"

I tilt my head and raise a questioning eyebrow in Astarion's direction, but he remains unfazed. As if sensing that it's now my turn to take the lead, I clear my throat and confidently interject into the conversation, "Actually, Lady Saphyra, I have been heavily involved in the fundraising efforts for the hospital. It's a cause close to my heart, after the catastrophe we lived."

Lady Saphyra's expression changes, her eyes widening in surprise. "How wonderful! I must say, you are quite the impressive lady, Elara."

Astarion gives me a small nod of approval before turning back to Lady Saphyra. "Indubitably, my dear, she is a remarkable creature indeed. I daresay, any assistance we can offer in tending to these unfortunate young ones is most welcome. Even more if the help comes from someone as bewitching as yourself."

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes at Astarion's practiced flattery, his smooth words and charming smile all too familiar to me by now. However, Lady Saphyra appears taken with his act, as she giggles and sips her drink before responding, "You are quite the charmer, Astarion. But I am glad to hear that you both are involved in such a noble cause. I may consider helping myself, if you treat me to a dance."

He takes her delicate hand in his and guides her gracefully towards the dance floor, their movements fluid and elegant as they join the other couples swaying to the music.

I watch them go with a mixture of amusement and relief that everything is going as intended. The rest of the night unfolds with a whirlwind of introductions and conversations. Astarion seems to know every person in the place, with most of them regarding Astarion with respect. I find myself seamlessly switching between engaging in political discussions with influential figures and gracefully gliding across the ballroom floor in elegant dances, all of this while convincing the nobles to join our very worthy cause. Just as Astarion had predicted, my presence was enough to sway many into following through with his plans.

At some point during the evening, we are approached by a group of people. Among them is who I recognize as Sir. Paddock, a human man in his sixties with silver hair and piercing green eyes. He is one of the most influential magistrates in the city, and also someone Astarion explicitly told me to beware of.

"Sir. Ancunín," he greets us with a bow before turning to me with a charming smile. "And Lady Ella, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

I give him a polite smile despite him getting my name wrong.

"You know, I didn't imagine the Savior of Baldur's Gate to be so appealing to the eye," he says with a raised eyebrow and lowers his eyes down my chest just enough to make me uncomfortable.

"Thank you for your compliment, Sir Paddock," I say stiffly.

He chuckles as if he's amused by my reaction before turning back to Astarion.

"So tell me," he says in a lowered voice, "what brings such extraordinary person here tonight in the arm of a man of the night, of all people?"

My jaw tightens at his words and I feel Astarion tense beside me. I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself.

Astarion flashes his signature smirk, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Ah, Sir Paddock, always the observant one," he says with a playful tone.

"Actually, Mr. Ancunín is doing a lot of important work for the betterment of this city," I say firmly.

The man just raises an eyebrow skeptically. "And do these 'important' labors involve the draining of a certain vital liquid?" he asks with a sly smile.

The people around us shift uncomfortably at his words, although I can hear some chuckles.

I stand my ground, not allowing his insinuation to rattle me. "No, they do not".

Astarion leans in, his smile never wavering."Ah, Sir Paddock, you wound me with your choice of words," he replies smoothly. "But as for Lady Elara's presence here tonight, she graces us with her company as both a hero and a benefactor to the hospital fund. We are fortunate to have her support."

Sir Paddock's smile falters, but he quickly regains his composure."A hero and a benefactor? Impressive indeed." He glances between us, a glint of suspicion in his eyes."Well then, I apologize for my bluntness. It's just that Astarion here has quite a reputation in the city."

"I assure you, Sir Paddock, that Astarion is a changed man now," I say confidently, placing a hand on Astarion's arm for emphasis.

Sir Paddock studies us for a moment.

"You seem like an accomplished and respectable young woman," the man continues, ignoring my previous statement. "You don't need to waste your potential with... this thing."

His words strike a nerve within me and before I know it, I am speaking without thinking. "Mr. Ancunín may have a past that some frown upon, but he has proven himself time and time again as a valuable asset to this city," I retort "he is the most caring, ambitious, hard working and loyal person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. And none of you would be here if it wasn't for his labors." I finish, my voice quivering with rage.

The surrounding crowd falls into a heavy silence, their eyes darting between the three of us. Astarion himself wears a stunned expression, his typically composed demeanor momentarily cracked.

But the man just chuckles condescendingly. "Oh dear, it seems like you have quite the temper on you," he says with amusement. "But mark my words, Miss Ella. Associating yourself with someone like that will only bring you down in the eyes of this society."

My fists clench at my sides as fury courses through me. How dare he speak about him like this? Despite all of Astarion's faults and past mistakes, he has been nothing but good to me and the city. Hells, he is keeping 7000 spawn alive as we are talking!

Before I can respond, Astarion steps forward "Ah, Sir Paddock, always one to jump to the most scandalous conclusions. I assure you, Lady Elara and I are engaged in far more noble pursuits than you could ever dream of."

I shoot Astarion a grateful smile. Sir Paddock's eyes narrow as he studies Astarion. "Well, well, the rogue with a heart of gold. You've certainly managed to charm your way into the hearts of Baldur's Gate's elite, haven't you?"

Astarion smirks and bows slightly. "Charm is my specialty, dear sir. It seems even the most discerning individuals can recognize true talent when they see it."

Suppressing a laugh, I instead give his arm a tight squeeze in appreciation for his backhanded compliment.

"And now, as lovely as it has been talking with you, I believe I owe this beautiful woman a dance, so if you'll excuse us" Astarion says smoothly, extending his hand towards me.

Sir Paddock studies us for a moment "Oh, of course," he says with a forced grin. "I wouldn't want to keep you from your dance."

I glance at Sir Paddock, a smug smile gracing my lips, before placing my hand in Astarion's. With a bow, the vampire leads me away from the group, towards the dance floor. As we glide across the dance floor, the tension from our encounter with Sir Paddock slowly dissipates. The music envelops us, its melodic notes weaving through the air as if casting a spell of tranquility upon the room. I can feel his eyes on me while we dance, his hand resting gently on the small of my back, guiding me with effortless grace. I try to push the earlier confrontation out of my mind and focus on our mission, but I can't help but feel guilty for losing my temper.

"I'm sorry," I say sincerely, breaking the silence between us. "I overstepped and almost blew our plan."

"You handled Sir Paddock admirably," Astarion whispers in my ear, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and mischief. "You have quite the fiery spirit, my lady."

I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks at his words, my heart swelling with a warmth that I hadn't anticipated, "Thank you, Sir Ancunín."

For a moment, I forget about the tensions of the evening and lose myself in the rhythm of the dance.

As we sway together amidst the sea of elegant couples, Astarion leans in closer, his voice barely audible over the music. My back shivers at the closeness to his body, the feeling of his cold fingers grazing my open back.

"My dear Elara," he begins, his breath tickling my ear, "Your strength and resilience have always been a source of envy for me. But there is something I find ever more admirable from you."

"And what is it that you find so admirable?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

Astarion pulls back slightly, his gaze fixed on mine. "It is your unwavering belief in the goodness of others, even in the face of their doubts and prejudices."

A small smile tugs at my lips as I listen to Astarion's words. His observation warms my heart.

"I'm not sure if that is entirely true," I say. "I have made plenty of mistakes believing others in my life."

A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he tightens his grip on my waist."Don't we all?" Astarion replies. "But I've seen you in action, Elara. You have a way of bringing out the best in people, even when they don't see it themselves."

I swallow hard, his words resonating deeply within me. Astarion's observations of my character always manage to surprise me, as if he can see into the depths of my soul. For so long after Gale left, I had felt lost and disconnected from the world, but his presence back in my life had brought about a newfound clarity, a sense of purpose.

"Thank you," I say softly.

As the music begins to fade into another song, Astarion pulls me closer, his grip on my waist firm yet gentle. The room around us seems to blur into insignificance as our eyes lock, a silent understanding passing between us.

"Can I ask what Gale's letter said?" He says, breaking the comfortable silence between us.

I tense visibly at the mention of the piece of parchment, tripping on my own feet. But Astarion quickly catches me before I fall.

"I-I don't know," I stutter, trying to regain my composure.

Astarion's eyes narrow slightly. "You don't know? Did you not read it?"

I take a deep breath and try to calm my racing heart. How much should I tell him? In the short time we've been living together, Astarion has already opened himself to me in more ways than one. Yet, I can't shake the feeling of shame that washes over me at the reminder of the words written in ink.

"He said that he has started crafting Karsus' Crown" I blurt out.

Astarion raises an eyebrow, clearly picking up on my discomfort. "And that's it?"

I give a slow, resigned shake of my head. "He also said that it's over, that I should forget him and move on with my life." I say, my voice heavy with disappointment, "Oh, and of course, he made sure to mention that he's not coming back, which I guess was to be expected at this point." I laugh bitterly.

Astarion's expression turns serious at my words. "I'm sorry, Elara," he says quietly. "I know how much Gale meant to you."

"It's fine," I say with a shrug, trying to brush off the sadness that threatens to consume me. "I've had plenty of time to come to terms with it."

Astarion studies me for a moment before speaking again. "How do you feel about it?"

His question lingered in my mind. How did I feel about it?

"I...I don't know," I finally answer truthfully. "Part of me is sad, of course. But another part of me is relieved."

Astarion looks at me curiously, and I can tell he wants me to elaborate. So I take a deep breath and continue.

"I've been holding onto this hope that maybe one day we would get back together. For so many months, I really hoped he would give up his power for me," I say, feeling slightly embarrassed at my admission. "But now I can finally let go of that hope and move on with my life."

A small smile appears on Astarion's face and he nods in understanding. "I think that's for the best," he says softly.

I nod in agreement, grateful for his support and understanding. We continue dancing in silence for a few moments before Astarion speaks up again.

"You know, dear," he begins hesitantly. "He on no account ever deserved you."

I glance up at Astarion, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. I'm about to ask him what he means by that, but before I can even part my lips, a blood-curdling scream shatters the stillness of the room. In an instant, Astarion's hand is clasped around mine and he is pulling me towards the source of the cry. The corner is filled with a sea of nobles, their faces contorted with fear and shock. We push our way through the crowd, struggling against the tide until we finally reach the head of the gathering. And there, lying on the floor in a pool of crimson, is Duke Ravengard. And his lifeless body bears two deep puncture wounds decorating his neck.

#astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic

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wrecklessbench · 10 months

Text

Sorrow

Gibbs x reader (kinda)

A/N: I wrote this when I was feelin a little depresso <3 idk if I will continue it. Kinda want to but depends on how I wanna finish it.

As I stood on the stairs, staring down at the man I had fallen in love with sanding down his 3rd boat, I realised that this was the end. I had made a vow to myself just moments before entering his unlocked house, that whatever transpired in this basement will be the conclusion of a tragic 3 year longing. But as I silently and slowly made my way down those steps, I froze.

I took a moment to look over the scene in front of me. He was wearing the red USMC hoodie that I adored, sleeves rolled up to his elbows with forearms on show, and a pair of denim jeans that hugged him in all the right places. The small radio placed on his work bench playing soft music only he would listen to. The smell of sandalwood and bourbon made me smile in memory of past late nights in this very basement, tipsy and ruining his boat with my inexperience of woodwork.

“You gonna stare all night, or join me?” The huskiness in his voice cutting through my internal flashbacks.

I stayed still. Watching as he placed his sander down and turning towards my position on the stairs, eyebrows raised with a silent invitation. Yet, my feet would not move. The overwhelming noise of my heartbeat in my ears, breathing becoming shallower as his silent invitation became a silent question.

“Well?” He asks, stepping forward.

I say nothing, only sink into a sitting position on the stairs. My false confidence I had at his front door only moments before had vanished, and all I’m left with is the feeling of loneliness and sorrow. Head in my hands, hair falling in front of my face as if to hide the inevitable tears.

This feeling of dread overtaking me completely. Tears now freely flowing down my reddened cheeks, I let out a short sob, unable to stop myself. As I feel myself start to shake uncontrollably, I sense a warmth over me.

I remove my hands from my now soaked face, and raise my head slightly to see a red hoodie staring back at me. Raising my head higher, I’m met with these ocean blue eyes I’ve had continuous dreams about, filled with questions and worry. The corner of my mouth raises in an attempt to smile. He gives a shake of his head, motions his hand for me to move to the left, stepping forward and situating himself next to me on the stairs.

As soon as I feel his arm around my shoulders, the last bit of self preservation disappeared from my body and my eyes became a broken faucet, unable to stop the tears from flowing. All I could do was cry into him as he held me and whispered into my hair.

“I got ya. You’re okay. Right here. Not going anywhere. It’s okay.” His whispers bringing more despair into my heart.

I don’t know how long we sat there. Seemed like a life time. Eventually the tears ran dry and the sobbing became whimpers, the shaking stopping all together. His arms still wrapped around me, one around my shoulders, hand caressing my hair, and the other found itself holding onto my legs as they were semi-draped over his.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asks quietly into the side of my head, just above my ear.

I take a deep breath in, and then exhale until I can’t anymore. Another breath in. My voice corse and weak as I speak the only words I can.

“I’m leaving, Gibbs.”

#leroy jethro gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #ncis #ncis x reader #me #Gibbs

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ao719 · 1 year

Text

Best Kept Secrets

Best Kept Secrets - Let Me See Inside Your Heart (Chapter 8)

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

Summary: An unforeseen encounter with the past proves that even the best-kept secrets eventually make their way into the light.

Title inspiration: Hunger - Ross Copperman

Pairing: Liam x F!OC

A/N: Thank you to @burnsoslow for prereading. Please excuse any errors.

Rating: M • Warning: This series will contain NSFW material. If you read, you acknowledge you are 18+

Catch up here

Sitting on the floor inside the penthouse suite of the hotel, Amara flipped through the pages of a book, trying to clear her mind of its muddled thoughts.

It wasn’t working.

Liam showing up at the hotel a few nights prior and asking her to attend the festival in Valtoria had left her a little more than just on edge. She’d taken the following day after his impromptu visit to herself, leaving her phone behind and getting out of the hotel for much-needed quality time; it didn’t help steady her wandering mind. The next day, she’d gotten her ass chewed out by Bradshaw for completely spacing out during a virtual meeting with the King of Auvernal. Not that she cared about pissing him off; she didn’t. She did care that one little invitation could have her so out of sorts that she couldn’t focus.

Amara never gave Liam a definitive answer about whether or not she would attend; she told him she would think about it and left it at that. Truthfully, she was worried about going and what it would do to her already crumbling resolve pertaining to her and Liam’s situation. She was barely holding onto what little self-restraint she had left and she knew what going there would more than likely do to her mindset. He knew, too, and she knew exactly what he was trying to do by extending the invitation.

Two years ago, that very same invitation was the thing that changed everything between them.

Amara glanced up from where she sat inside Liam’s study; the two had been working on plans for a charity gala for one of the foundations he had chosen. He was speaking to his assistant, running through a list of things he had to do tomorrow before he left for the night.

“And I still need your brief statement for the lantern festival next weekend.”

“I’ll get it written up,” Liam replied. “It shouldn’t take me long.” As the two men finished their conversation, Amara’s brows furrowed, curious about the mentioned festival. Liam bid goodnight to the man as he walked him to the door; he shut it behind him and turned back to her with a rueful smile. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries,” Amara smiled.

Liam sat back next to her on the small sofa. “Where were we?”

“What’s the lantern festival?” Amara questioned, earning a curious look from him. “I heard James mention needing your statement to give …”

“It’s a festival held in Valtoria.”

“Another duchy?”

“Yes,” Liam nodded. “An unclaimed one, however. There hasn’t been a Duke or Duchess in years. Luckily, the people of Valtoria are pretty self-sufficient. They hold a festival every year; there are vendors and whatnot throughout the day showcasing local goods, then at night, they take floating lanterns, make a wish, and vow to let go of something in return as they set them off.”

“Sounds magical,” Amara smiled.

“It is,” Liam nodded. “I haven’t been since I was a teenager, but from what I remember …” He stared at her, seeing that familiar sparkle in her eye, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re going to tell me that you think I should go, aren’t you?”

“You’re finally catching on,” Amara teased with a good-natured grin as she nudged his arm with hers. “But really … I think it would mean a lot for the people there if you showed up, especially knowing you haven’t been up there since you were a teenager. I can only assume your father hasn’t been there in quite some time …?” He nodded in response. “It’s a new era … with a new monarch.”

Liam smiled. “I might be able to pull some strings with some of the others from court to get them to show up.”

“Host a ball. They seem to love those,” Amara chuckled.

Liam snorted. “You aren’t kidding. But … that’s actually not a bad idea. It would be pretty last minute, but I think we could pull it off … and we can host it at the Valtorian estate.”

“I thought it was unclaimed?”

“It is,” Liam said. “But the estate itself has been maintained all of this time by the staff of the previous Duchess.” He smiled. “I’ll make the arrangements … but I think you should come, too.”

“I don’t think you need me there to pull it off.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Liam shook his head. “I want you there, though …”

Amara stared at him, her lips curling into a small smile. “Ok.”

Amara had no idea back then where accepting an innocent offer to attend a festival would have led her. She thought nothing of it at the time when she agreed to go; she knew for certain Liam had no idea either, not then and certainly not now.

Valtoria changed things between them for good, however, setting a myriad of things into motion. It sent her down a path she never expected, one she never would have seen herself on … and one that she was still navigating the consequences of to that day.

Amara knew that going back there would more than likely force her to acknowledge things she had been purposely trying to avoid; she hadn’t been doing a very good job as it was. She hadn’t been fighting, as Liam said in Lythikos, for the reasons he believed. He thought she just didn’t want to venture down that road with him again, but that wasn’t the case.

Amara still loved Liam; she missed him and what they once shared. And knowing how he still felt and that the obstacles that were in the way last time were no longer there left her questioning so many things. With the way things were now, however, and everything she still needed to say, it was just easier for both of them, in the long run, to remain emotionally distant.

An alert on her phone pulled her from her thoughts; she let out a soft breath as she looked at the screen before rising from the floor.

****

The backdoor of the SUV opened, and Liam slipped out of the vehicle, squinting against the bright morning sun. He smiled and nodded in acknowledgment to the staff that was waiting to greet him upon his arrival.

Liam glanced up at the massive estate in front of him as staff retrieved his bags and carried them inside; he slowly trailed behind them a moment later. He’d been to Valtoria in the two years since that first festival he attended as the new King, and both times he drowned under the wave of nostalgia that he couldn’t escape, the same wave he was feeling crash over him now.

Both years he attended the festival, his wish when releasing his lantern was the same: Bring her back to me.

As Liam stepped inside the master suite of the estate, he nodded in thanks to the staff that had brought up his bags before they exited the room. He stood in the center as he glanced around; this visit brought those same memories back as the ones before, but they were more vivid this time, feeling himself reliving them in extensive detail. He knew it was more than likely due to Amara’s return.

His wish had finally come true … sort of.

Inside the master suite of the estate, Liam finished unpacking his bag. He and Amara had ridden to Valtoria together that late afternoon, a day ahead of the festival; Madeleine had a scheduled engagement in Portavira that day and planned to head up and meet them once she finished there. He and Amara had spent the time after their arrival going over exactly what his focus was going to be at the festival when speaking to the people of Valtoria and also discussing preparations for the ball that would follow. Now, he was biding his time until Madeleine’s arrival and dinner.

All he wanted to do was spend more time with Amara, however.

Ever since that small kiss they shared in Lythikos — one they had acted like didn’t happen — his restraint around her had been shredding at the seams, now to a point where he was barely hanging on by a thread. His curiosity was getting the best of him, and while he was tired of fighting so damn hard against something he wanted so badly, he knew it was probably for the best … for both their sakes.

As he hung his suit for tomorrow evening’s ball in the closet, Liam’s phone rang; he pulled it from his pocket, glancing at the screen before raising it to his ear. “Hey,” he answered.

“Hello,” Madeleine replied. “I know this is last minute, and I’m so sorry, but would you mind terribly if I just came up in the morning?”

“No, not at all,” Liam answered. “Is everything ok?”

“Yes, everything is fine. I just got caught up in Portavira longer than I was expecting today, and I’m running behind, so I just want to take this evening for myself instead of rushing up there.” Liam knew what that meant. “But I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

“That’s fine,” Liam said. “I’ll see you then.”

Liam ended the call with Madeleine before slipping his phone back into his pocket just as a knock came on his door. He answered it to see the majordomo on the other side; she curtsied before meeting his gaze. “I just wanted to let you know that dinner for you and Her Majesty will be ready in about 10 minutes, sir,” she smiled.

Shit, Liam thought. “Uh …” He paused, glancing over his shoulder as an idea came to mind; he knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. He looked back at her. “Could you have it brought up here and set up on the balcony?”

“Of course,” she smiled.

“Thank you, Gladys. And once that’s set, you and the others are all dismissed for the evening.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

“Absolutely,” Liam nodded with a smile.

Shaking himself from his reverie, Liam turned toward the bed where his bag was and started to unpack. He wasn’t sure if Amara was going to take him up on his offer to come to Valtoria, knowing it was a long shot when he extended the invitation, but he hoped she would.

Liam knew that he was slowly chipping away at whatever this wall was that she had put up in his presence; he had been since her arrival. Despite her best efforts to hide it, he knew Amara was waging some kind of internal battle with herself. It was against what he didn’t know. He was aware there were things she wanted to tell him, so it was possible that the battle she was having pertained to those secrets she still kept. However, if any part of that battle was her fighting any feelings for him that remained, he wanted to know, and he was determined to figure it out. And her accepting his invitation was his best chance to do that.

Valtoria held the memory of one of the most pivotal moments of their past. It was the place where their relationship took on a life of its own. Sure, in the weeks leading up to the trip there, things between them had already been put into motion, but this is where they truly started.

Liam could see the way the memories of their past affected her, and he was hoping that if Amara chose to come, the nostalgia of being there would be just the thing he needed to knock down the rest of that wall she was hiding behind.

****

Later that afternoon, Amara looked around when she slipped out of the vehicle, taking in the scene. Various vendors had been stationed on the grounds away from the estate as festival-goers gathered with security stationed along a perimeter.

Amara then glanced up at the opulent Valtorian estate in front of her; she was immediately flooded with memories of two years ago, but quickly shook them away. She was already feeling uncertain about being there and the last thing she needed her mind to focus on was the past; she needed to focus on getting herself through that evening. She wasn’t sure exactly why she had come, but despite knowing the thoughts and feelings it would more than likely dredge up inside her — thoughts and feelings she had already been fighting against since her arrival weeks ago — she came anyway. It was as if she couldn’t help herself, like a part of her just had to know what would come of it, if anything at all.

“I’ll show you inside, ma’am,” a voice pulled her attention.

“Thank you,” Amara nodded with a forced smile.

Following the staff member inside, Amara glanced around when they stepped through the front doors; other guests that had already arrived were mingling between the two great rooms on either side of the foyer while staff bustled around the estate ensuring everything was prepped and ready for the ball taking place that evening.

Amara turned her head, looking into one of the great rooms; at the same moment, Liam’s eyes shifted in her direction and their gazes met. Keeping his focus on her, he excused himself from the conversation he was in with the Duke of Portavira before heading toward her.

Liam smiled as he approached. “You came.”

“Uh … yeah,” Amara nodded. “I did.”

Without hesitation, Liam leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek; he missed the way she subtly tensed at the gesture. “I’m really glad,” he whispered before drawing back to look at her. Amara let out a soft breath, shifting her eyes away from him. “How was the ride up?”

“Not too bad,” Amara answered. Looking at the other guests that mingled around them, she tried not to seem as on edge as she felt. “Looks like most everyone on your guest list has arrived.”

“Most, yes,” Liam nodded. “Still waiting on a few more.”

“And the festival seems to be going well outside.”

“Yeah,” Liam smiled. “I’ve been stuck in here going over last-minute preparations for tonight, but I’ll be making my way out there shortly.” He looked at her, studying her; he could tell she seemed a little … nervous, evident by her demeanor. “Are you ok?”

Amara glanced up, staring at him for a long moment before nodding. “Yeah,” she lied as she dropped his gaze. “I’m fine.”

Before he could call her bluff, knowing it wasn’t the truth, a throat clearing behind him pulled Liam’s attention. He turned to see Gladys. “I apologize for the interruption, Your Majesty, but you’re needed in the study to take a call.”

“Thank you, Gladys.” Liam turned back to look at Amara, meeting her eyes again. She could see the yearning in his gaze, finding it hard to hold it. “I’m sorry to have to cut this short. But I’ll see you this evening?”

“The ball,” Amara replied. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

Liam nodded. “I really am glad that you decided to come.” Amara could do nothing but nod as she stared up at him. She couldn’t say she felt the same; that was yet to be determined. “I’ll see you later,” he smiled.

As Liam walked away, Amara turned toward the staircase where the staff member was still lingering, waiting to show her to her room. She offered an apologetic smile before following him up the stairs. When they reached the top of the landing, they took a right towards the east wing of the estate, and Amara let out an unsteady breath as she walked the familiar corridor. When the staff member gestured to the open door of her assigned room, she nodded in thanks before he walked away. She lingered just outside the room and turned her head, staring at the closed ornate door at the end of the long hallway.

Sitting on the sofa in the great room with her laptop open in front of her, Amara caught up on emails to pass the time. Liam had already bid her goodnight and left her to her own devices while he prepared for the Queen’s arrival.

“What are you up to?”

Upon hearing him, Amara looked over and smiled at Liam, who was leaning against the entranceway. “Nothing, just catching up on some stuff. What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Liam smiled. “I, um, I was wondering — well, I wanted to ask … have you eaten yet?”

“No,” Amara shook her head. “I told Gladys when she asked that I could raid the kitchen and find something for myself later,” she chuckled.

“Well … Madeleine just called and she decided to come up in the morning instead … but the staff was already in the midst of preparing dinner for us both. So … for the sake of the food not going to waste, I thought that maybe …” Liam let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was wondering if perhaps you’d like to join me …?”

Amara stared at him for a moment; there was uncertainty in both their gazes, but despite knowing better, also a longing to just spend more time together. She hesitated only a moment longer before she nodded. “Sure,” she smiled.

Liam perked up at her answer, standing straight. “Great, uh … if you’ll follow me …”

Amara nodded, closing her laptop before rising from the sofa. She fell into step beside Liam, walking with him as they made their way up the stairs and down the long hall; she was a bit confused as to why they weren’t headed in the direction of the dining room, but she didn’t question it.

When Liam entered the room at the end of the hall, Amara paused, clasping her hands in front of her as she lingered just outside of the white and gold ornate door. Her eyes darted around the inside of the master suite, feeling her heart start to race before she caught his gaze when he turned to face her.

“Uh …” Liam cleared his throat, seeing the trepidation in her eyes. “I had them bring the food out to the balcony,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder to the open set of French doors. “If … if you’re comfortable with it, that is.”

“Oh,” Amara smiled nervously, feeling a tad foolish for her minor internal panic. “Sure,” she nodded. “The balcony is fine.” She held his gaze while remaining in the hall, however.

Liam couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped him. “You’re going to have to come in here to get out there …”

“Right,” Amara chuckled with a nod before taking a step over the threshold.

Liam stepped out onto the balcony, and Amara followed; he heard a soft gasp escape her and turned with a smile. “This is why I asked them to serve it out here.”

Amara walked to the balustrade, looking across the gorge at the waterfall. “Liam … this is incredible.”

“It’s the best view in the whole estate,” Liam smiled. She turned, offering him a smile in return. “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing toward the table set for two; the wine had already been poured and there were two covered dishes set in place.

Amara nodded and turned to take a step; Liam reached out, pulling her chair out for her. “Thank you.”

Liam took his seat across from her and they both lifted the silver lids from the plates. “It’s nothing fancy. Just a simple homemade tomato pasta,” he grinned sheepishly.

“It’s perfect,” Amara glanced up at him with a smile. “It actually reminds me of home.”

“Oh?”

“Us New Yorkers love our pasta,” Amara chuckled.

Liam grinned with relief before grabbing his wine glass and resting his elbow on the table as he leaned it toward her in a salute. “Here’s to … tonight.”

Amara held his gaze for a moment before lifting her glass, gently clinking it against his. Their eyes remained locked over the rims of the glasses as they each took a sip of wine.

Letting out a breath, Amara walked into her room, quickly shutting the door behind her before leaning against it.

You need to pull your damn self together.

Amara could have said no, but she made this decision to come and needed to deal with her choice. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out before pushing herself off the door and running her fingers through her hair. She planned to take the rest of the time from now until the ball to hopefully clear her head and rid it — somehow — of any thoughts of the past.

****

That evening, as the festival continued outside of the estate, soft music and chatter filled the ballroom inside. Liam stood beside Madeleine and Regina in the receiving line, greeting the members of his court as they entered. He smiled and shook hands and entertained polite yet short conversations, but he couldn’t help his wandering eyes that kept shifting toward the door, looking for her.

Finally, Liam caught a glimpse of her, and she instantly had his undivided attention. Standing at the very end of the line beside Drake and Riley, who had also accepted his offer to attend the festivities, Amara’s hands were clasped together in front of her, holding her clutch. Her hair was loosely pulled back with a few strands falling to frame her face, and she wore a simple dark blue chiffon gown with a deep V neckline and a cinched embellished waist; when she turned to speak to Maxwell, who stood just behind her, Liam saw the same deep V neckline at her back. When she turned back, her eyes met his.

They both subtly smiled.

Liam held her gaze until they made it up to the receiving line; he greeted Drake then Riley, followed by Maxwell, knowing Amara purposely let him go ahead of her. As the others moved to Madeleine and Regina, Amara stepped in front of him. Per public decorum and protocol, she dipped into a curtsy before looking up at him again. “Your Majesty.”

“You look beautiful,” Liam smiled.

“Thank you.” Amara continued to stare up at him, and as Liam surveyed her, he swore he could see some sort of shift in her from earlier. Before he could be too certain or figure out precisely what that shift was, however, she dropped his gaze. “I should …” She trailed off, gesturing as a gap started to form in the line. She moved to Madeleine, dipping into a curtsy before the two women briefly spoke.

Liam then watched Amara approach Regina; it was the first time the Queen Mother had seen her face-to-face since her return. “I heard you were back,” Regina smiled. “It’s lovely to see you, dear.”

“You as well,” Amara nodded. “I was so sorry to hear about the King Father.”

“Thank you,” Regina smiled sadly.

When Madeleine excused herself, Liam turned toward the other two, hoping to steal a moment with Amara so they could actually talk. Regina thwarted those plans, however. She placed a hand on Amara’s elbow, guiding her away. “So, about this work you’re doing with Auvernal, I’d be more than happy to give a few opinions on the matter …”

Liam bowed his head and tensed his jaw as their voices faded. He couldn’t seem to get her in front of him long enough to truly gauge her. They were interrupted earlier when she first arrived, he was too sidetracked and preoccupied with duty at the festival, and now, the first time he felt like he could have a moment with her, she was the one who was pulled away.

With a soft sigh, Liam started toward the bar, in need of a drink. The mere thought that he might possibly be able to finally figure out what exactly Amara was thinking and feeling was putting him on edge, but he knew he needed to calm his eagerness for answers and bide his time. He needed to wait for the right moment … if it were to even come.

****

Midway through the ball, Amara slipped out onto the balcony for some fresh air. The night hadn’t been going all too terribly so far.

After giving herself a little pep talk following her first encounter with Liam upon her arrival, and having a chat with Riley after she and Drake arrived, Amara managed to recenter herself … to an extent. She was still struggling with the flood of memories but managed to shake them away before she became too consumed.

It also helped that Liam had been kept fairly distracted by other guests throughout the evening so far, giving her mentality the space it needed. He was the one thing that would break that dam open that she was fighting to keep sealed.

“How are you enjoying the evening?”

Hearing his voice, Amara closed her eyes, opening them back up just before he came next to her at the balustrade. She glanced up at him, offering a halfhearted smile. “It’s been fine,” she replied as casually as she could. “How about you?”

“Can’t complain,” Liam shrugged with a smile. “At least now I can’t, now that I’m finally getting a moment for myself,” he quipped. “Regina seemed happy to see you. I assume she had plenty of advice on the alliance options to give?”

“Yeah,” Amara smiled with a nod, thinking back on her conversation with the Queen Mother. “She made her thoughts about Bradshaw and Auvernal very clear.”

“In case you couldn’t tell, she’s not really a fan,” Liam chuckled.

“I gathered.”

As they fell into a momentary silence, a flicker of light against the night sky caught both of their attention; they glanced to the right, seeing the first lanterns being lit by the festival goers across the grounds, and one by one, they were being lifted into the sky.

“We’ll have to get ours sometime soon …”

“What are you going to wish for and let go of?” Amara asked.

“Not sure,” Liam shrugged.

“What have you wished for in the past?”

Liam looked at her, softly smiling; she had no idea that he was staring at the very thing he’d wished for the past two years. Just then, a soft melody of a slow waltz carried out through the balcony doors; he glanced toward the ballroom, watching others file onto the dance floor before looking back at her. “Dance with me?”

Amara let out a breath, subtly shaking her head, not in answer but in hesitation. “Liam …”

“Please?” Liam pleaded quietly as she stared at him, extending his hand in an offer. “It’s just one dance.”

Amara continued to stare at him. And despite knowing one dance was all it was going to take to completely obliterate all of her efforts that night, she placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her inside. As they made their way to the dance floor, they bypassed Drake and Riley, who shared a look before turning their attention back to their friends.

Liam curled his hand around Amara’s as his other arm wrapped around her waist; he rested their intertwined hands against his chest and pulled her close as they fell into the steps of a slow waltz. He looked down at her as her eyes lifted to meet his, and thinking back to her question just moments before, he smiled. “This. You.”

Amara’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“On the balcony, you asked me what I’ve wished for in the past. I wished for this … for you to come back …”

Hearing the sincerity in his tone and knowing he was telling the truth, Amara dropped his gaze, not wanting him to see the tears that started to fill her eyes. As he guided her around the floor, leading the steps of the dance, she felt him gently press his cheek to her temple, and she closed her eyes, relishing in his embrace and that moment.

And she felt her heart race as that floodgate that she’d been trying to contain burst wide open.

Amara took in the view of the waterfall after dinner; the sun that was starting to set cast shades of amber hues against her bronze skin as a light breeze rustled her hair. “This really is beautiful,” she said before turning to see him looking at her.

“It is,” Liam nodded, but his eyes never left her.

Amara let out a soft breath as she looked down at the wine glass in her hand. “So, what will this ball be like?” she asked, attempting to shift things back to casual.

“Just like any other,” Liam chuckled. “Dinner, waltzing, mingling.”

“Well, I don’t know how to waltz, but the dinner and mingling I’ll be fine with,” Amara smiled before taking a sip of her wine.

Liam stood from his chair with a playful glint in his eyes; he gave an exaggerated bow before holding his hand out to her in an offer. “Let me show you.”

“I don’t think I’ll be doing much dancing at this thing, so I’m not sure that is entirely necessary, Your Majesty,” Amara quipped.

“Well, simply humor me, then,” Liam chuckled. Amara smiled as she set her wine glass down and placed her hand in his offered one. He pulled her to stand and wrapped an arm around her waist; one of her hands rested on his shoulder while he took the other in his. “We’ll do a slow waltz. It’s easy. Just follow my lead.” He guided them in a musicless waltz around the balcony, and she looked down, following his lead while watching her footwork. “You’re doing great, but eyes up here,” he said. She glanced up, meeting his gaze.

Slowly, Liam’s expression softened, and he was staring at her with that familiar look, the one that caused her heart to flutter, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his. Amara had forgotten about the dance entirely, too lost in his eyes and the way he was looking at her. Liam began to slow their steps little by little until they were at a standstill inside an extended alcove of the balcony. He searched her brilliant blue eyes before his flickered down to her lips for a brief moment.

Amara closed her eyes when he raised his hand, brushing it across her cheek. “Liam …” she whispered.

“Look at me.”

When she opened her eyes and met his gaze again, Liam could see the desire in them, knowing they mirrored his own. His thumb shifted, brushing across her lips, those lips he’d been aching to kiss again, but really kiss; their first was merely a tease. He wanted to lose himself in her lips. He wanted to feel her tongue against his. He wanted to kiss her until they were breathless. But he didn’t think he’d be able to stop at just a kiss.

When she slightly parted her lips in response to his touch, Liam felt any last bit of resolve he was clinging to begin to crumble. Whatever was about to happen between them seemed almost inevitable at that point.

Amara watched him start to lean in, and that voice of reason that had been a constant in the back of her mind was silenced as weeks’ worth of longing and tension finally reached its peak and she tilted her head towards him.

Liam captured her lips, and when she opened to him, he inhaled a deep breath at the first real taste of her. He felt her hand curl around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as he backed her body against the wall of the alcove. Despite the tension they had been bottling inside and the way both of their bodies were thrumming, the kiss was slow, all-consuming, dragging them both into an oblivion they knew they wouldn’t recover from.

Amara breathed in his scent while he continued to guide them across the dance floor as the memory from two years ago came flooding back. When she let out a shuddered breath, Liam slightly tilted his head, bringing his lips near her ear. “Are you alright?” he whispered.

Amara brought their dancing to a stop and drew back, looking up at him, parting her lips to respond, but she couldn’t speak. She searched his eyes before she shook her head. “I … I need … excuse me.”

Without another word, Amara turned and walked off the dance floor, headed for the door. Liam carefully moved through the crowd as he followed her; he was stopped by Bertrand but told him he would find him later before continuing toward the exit, surreptitiously slipping from the room. When he stepped into the anteroom, Amara was already near the door leading into the hall. “Amara,” he called out to her, but she didn’t stop.

Amara took in a few breaths as she walked blindly through the estate corridors; she couldn’t get the images of their first time together to stop playing in her head.

Liam kissed Amara so deep, she swore she was drowning. Everything about him — about that kiss, about the way his tongue felt against hers, the way his hands curled possessively around her waist — overwhelmed every part of her. He was utterly intoxicating.

Without breaking their kiss, Liam lifted her, hoisting her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist before he turned and carried her inside. He laid her back on the bed, bending his body over top of hers. When he breathlessly drew back from her lips, they were both breathing heavily, searching one another’s eyes. Amara knew if she didn’t stop whatever was about to happen at that exact moment, she wasn’t going to be able to stop at all.

But she didn’t want to stop.

The truth was, Amara couldn't stand to let such a moment pass; she wanted to see what was behind this closed door because it was there, because leaving it unopened was driving her mad. She needed to see what was inside.

Still holding his gaze, Amara reached up, tenderly cupping his neck in her hands as she raised her head off the bed; Liam took the cue and leaned down, meeting her lips with renewed fervor.

Liam continued to follow Amara. The chiffon skirt of her gown billowed behind her and her heels clicked against the marble floor as she walked with purpose down the corridor. “Amara,” he called out again, but she still didn’t stop.

Amara could feel the sting in her eyes and her heart thundering as she made her way through the estate, unsure of where exactly she was or where she was even headed. Everything she had been bottling up — every unspoken word, all of her harbored feelings, every lingering secret she was keeping — was pushing its way to the surface as the memory continued to drown her. And that mixed with the tension that had already brewed between her and Liam since her return was doing her no favors.

Being there in the place where everything started two years ago was not easy. This was where they flouted any and all boundaries between them. This was where they chose to stop fighting their feelings. Every moment they shared, good and bad, all led back to this place.

“Amara!”

Still ignoring him, Amara turned the corner into the first set of random open doors she came across; she stepped inside the library, bringing her hand to her forehead as she took in a few shuddered breaths, trying to compose herself. It wasn’t working. She couldn’t understand how one person could have such a chokehold on her mind and heart.

Just as Amara turned, Liam stepped inside, shutting the double doors behind him; his brows were furrowed in both concern and confusion as they met gazes. As he took a few tentative steps toward her, in the dim library lighting he could see the expression on her face. He took notice of the way her chest was rising and falling rapidly. And he saw that look in her eyes as she stared back at him.

It was the first time since her return that he had not a single doubt that she was feeling everything that he was; she missed him the same way he missed her, she longed for him the way he did her. And then, Amara started toward him, steadily holding his gaze.

They collided, their lips crashing together, kissing as if to consume one another.

Liam drew back from another deep kiss to look at Amara, now laying bare before him. His eyes slowly drank in every part of her as he slid his hand along the contour of her body as if to commit every detail of it to memory. He swallowed thickly as he met her gaze again. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.”

Amara smiled, her eyes unabashedly roaming his bare muscled physique before she reached up, drawing his mouth back to hers; she couldn’t get enough. Their tongues languidly curled together before his lips shifted. He trailed open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck to her collarbone down to her chest as his hands explored the rest of her.

Every touch and every brush of his lips and tongue was gentle and tender as though he was savoring every moment.

As Liam began to shift lower, Amara watched him intently. His large hands gently gripped her waist as he shifted and his lips and tongue trailed down her concave stomach until he was settled between her legs. He hooked his arms around her and ran his lips along the inside of her thigh, earning a whisper of a moan from her. He glanced up, his eyes turning obsidian with need at hearing that first delicate sound she made before he dipped his head down.

Amara’s moan mingled with a gasp as her back slammed against a bookshelf, causing books to fall as Liam’s lips and teeth pulled at her neck; he felt something ignite inside him that he thought had been snuffed out. Her legs were wrapped around him and her hand fisted his hair; she tugged, tilting his face back to hers to capture his lips again. His hands impatiently pushed the fabric of her gown up until he could feel the bare skin of her thighs against his palms, digging his fingers possessively into her supple skin. She arched into him, trying to quell her ache for some sort of friction. Then, she heard the rip of her lace thong as Liam tore it away from her body.

Nothing about this was like their first time. That was tender, slow, and sensual, fueled by desire and intrigue.

This was rough and torrid, fueled by aching desperation, longing, and need.

Amara drew back breathlessly and glanced down as her usually nimble fingers fumbled against the top half of the buttons of his shirt; once semi-exposed, she leaned forward, grazing her lips down his neck and across the taut muscles of his chest as her hands impatiently tugged at his belt and pants until they were loose enough to free him.

Liam let out a guttural growl when he felt her hand reach down and wrap around him. He grabbed her chin, guiding her mouth back to his before he slipped his hand between them; his groan from how wet she was mixed with her moan as he stroked her.

“Liam, please,” Amara pleaded through a hitched breath.

Amara was still trembling in aftershocks as Liam moved from between her legs and slowly kissed his way up her body before capturing her lips in his again. After a moment, he drew back just enough to meet her gaze, and a soft gasp escaped her when she felt him press against her.

“Please, Liam,” Amara whispered in a plea.

Liam stared at her for a moment. He wasn’t going to stop now; he didn’t want to and they were already past a point of no return. He sat up, gripping her waist as he lined himself up to her entrance. He watched her expression intently as he began to push into her; her mouth fell open with a moan, her face twisting with pleasure as he slowly filled her inch by inch. Once buried inside her, he stilled with a groan at the way she felt.

After a moment of letting her adjust, he slowly pulled out before pushing back into her. “God, Amara,” Liam groaned. “You feel incredible.”

Amara pulled him to her, silencing him with another kiss.

With his hands on her hips with a bruising grip beneath the skirt of her gown, Liam took her right there against the bookshelf; he drove into her with a powerful, uncontrolled thrust, causing a few more books to topple to the floor from the force. Amara’s mouth fell open as a moan ripped from her throat from a mixture of a little pain and a lot of pleasure.

Liam groaned at the feeling of being inside her again after so long. He kissed her again as his hands shifted and pulled at the fabric at the top of her dress, slipping it off her shoulders and letting it pool at her waist, leaving her upper half completely bare. As he drove into her, he dipped his head, circling her pebbled nipple with his tongue before pulling it between his lips.

Amara dug her heels into his lower back as moans and whimpers fell from her lips, each frenzied thrust making her delirious with pleasure. When Liam lifted his head, she kissed him again, clinging to him like an anchor.

Liam and Amara were completely consumed in one another; their trembling bodies were layered in a sheen of sweat, twisting and turning into different positions until he was sitting back on his haunches with her straddling him. His one hand was tangled in her hair as his tongue curled against hers. His other hand slid down, splaying against the small of her back as she rocked her hips against him.

Liam groaned, feeling himself start to throb inside her as she clenched around him, knowing she was teetering on that same edge of release that he was. “I want you to come for me, Amara,” he breathed against her ear before kissing the spot just below it. “I want you to let go.”

With each rock of her hips, Liam pushed deeper inside her, and Amara could feel that coil being wound tighter until it finally snapped. He felt her body quiver uncontrollably against him as her moans became louder. His hands shifted, curling around her shoulders and pressing her down against him as he bucked his hips, letting her ride out her release as he chased his own. A moment later, his body went taut as he let out a gravelly moan and dropped his head onto her shoulder as his grip around her tightened.

After a few moments, Liam lifted his head to look at her. Their bodies still trembled and their breaths were staggered as their eyes met; he reached up, pushing her hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear before drawing her mouth back to his. He kissed her softly, their breaths mingling as they tried to catch them.

When he pulled back again and searched her blue eyes, Liam felt something he never had before. What happened just now wasn’t simply out of curiosity, it didn’t happen only because of the tension that had built between them.

It wasn’t meaningless.

It was so much more than that.

Rules were broken and it was wrong. He knew it was wrong because he knew this wasn’t going to be something he would ever be able to come back from. Liam had already fallen for Amara; he’d been falling for weeks now. Yes, perhaps it was wrong, but it felt more right than anything else he had done in his entire life.

And it only solidified and strengthened those feelings he already had, feelings he was done trying to ignore and contain.

Liam was on the cusp of release, and he could tell Amara was too, feeling her clench around him as his name fell from her lips in a mantra of breathless pleas. Her one hand was gripped around the back of his neck while she slipped the other beneath the opening of his shirt, clinging to the bare skin of his shoulder; her nails dug into him hard enough to break the skin as his movements became more frantic.

“Come for me, Amara,” Liam spoke gruffly in her ear, his tone a mixture between a command and a plea.

When she came undone, Amara’s body arched and trembled in his arms as her moans echoed off the walls of the library. He thrust his hips once, twice, and with one last powerful drive, he followed her over the edge. His entire body tensed and he buried his head into the crook of her neck with a drawn-out throaty moan; he pressed her more firmly against the bookshelf as his nails scraped hard against the skin of her hips when his hands clenched into fists.

The sound of their shuddered pants mingled as they tried to catch their breath. Amara rested her head against Liam’s, both damp with sweat; her elbows were on his chest, cradling his face between her arms as he continued to pulsate inside her. After a moment, Liam tilted his head, forcing hers back, and they met gazes. His eyes were filled with questions, and he searched hers as if he were trying to discover all of her secrets that lay buried just beneath the surface. He was unsure of what exactly this meant to her.

To him … it meant everything.

As Amara stared back at him, still sobering from the high he just gave her, she could feel the emotions start to come back, and a lump formed in her throat. Every part of her was silently screaming; screaming to tell him how she still felt … how much she still loved him; screaming to tell him everything he didn’t know but needed to. But she didn’t say a word. Instead, she leaned forward, capturing his lips in a deep kiss, pouring her whole heart and everything she wasn’t saying into it.

And he kissed her back just the same.

When they drew back, Liam looked at her again, and his brows slightly knitted when he saw a tear slip from the inner corner of her eye.

That’s when he knew for certain how she felt.

Liam knew Amara, and her love language was different than most; silent emotions and intellect. And in those moments when her veil was dropped like it was now, you could see what she wasn’t saying out loud.

Lifting his hand, Liam gently brushed away the tear before he leaned in, placing a tender, lingering kiss on her lips, letting her know he got the message. “I’ve missed you, Amara,” he whispered against her lips when they parted. “So damn much.”

Amara closed her eyes, letting his words linger for a moment before releasing a sigh. “I missed you too, Liam.”

Upon hearing the admission he’d been waiting for, Liam kissed her again, sliding his hand back to tangle in her tresses. He drew back before slowly lowering her feet back to the floor; Amara still held onto him, and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he closed his eyes.

After a moment, he looked at her, holding a silent conversation. Amara let out a soft breath as they started to fix their clothing back into place; her mind was racing about what had just happened as she slipped her arms back through the chiffon straps of her gown and tried smoothing out any wrinkles on the skirt. Her eyes flickered up, spotting a mirror above a fireplace and she moved toward it; she stared at her reflection as she tried fixing her tousled hair, her heart beating frantically.

Despite what just took place not being the best thing to have happened considering the circumstances she was already in … Amara didn’t regret it. She couldn’t. It did complicate things even more, however. She didn’t need to ask what this meant to Liam; she knew. How she was going to navigate this now with feelings very much out in the open she didn’t know.

Amara’s eyes shifted up, looking at Liam in the mirror’s reflection as he came up behind her; she closed her eyes when she felt his hands curl around her waist, not even trying to fight her instinct to lean back against his chest. She slightly turned her head toward him when she felt his lips press gently against her temple. “Come on,” he whispered.

Liam slipped his hand into hers before they started toward the doors; he dropped down, picking up the torn lace from the ground and shoving it into the pocket of his suit jacket before they exited the room.

They remained silent as they slowly walked the corridor, and after a few moments, Amara realized they weren’t headed in the same direction they came from. Liam turned a few corners before they found themselves in the east wing. As they started down the hall, she thought they were stopping by her room so she could grab an untorn undergarment before returning to the ball, but when she looked up and met Liam’s gaze, it offered her something else instead. She let out a breath as they bypassed her room and walked to the white and gold ornate door at the end of the hall. He had no intention of returning to the ball or festival.

Liam opened the door, meeting her gaze once more with a soft smile; Amara slipped inside his room, and he followed, shutting and locking the door behind him.

***************************************

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karmic-vibes · 2 years

Text

If I Can Dream

10 - Strong Winds of Promise

art credit: @lazylittledragon on tumblr and lazyjunebug on twitter

cw: gender dysphoria, self-loathing, domestic [verbal] dispute

Year: 1988

“God, I swear, this fit me just last week!” Eddie whined, trying to button his pants. “Stupid kid, making me huge.”

“Don’t call my niece stupid,” Robin warned.

“I’ll call her whatever I want. Messing up my stupid male body.”

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Just find new pants to wear.”

“Have you met me, Robin? Do I look like I own more than one pair of nice pants?”

“Ask Wayne.”

“Does he look like he owns any nice pants?”

“What size is Steve?”

“Too small.”

“Okay, we’ll make them fit, don’t worry. Does your shirt still fit?”

“Yeah, but barely. The buttons bow a bit, but I can hide that with my jacket.”

“We’ll get your pants on, everything will be great, and you’re gonna have a lovely wedding. Sound good?”

“Mhmm, come on.”

When both boys were ready, they met up at the courthouse. Even though it was informal, they each still felt the need to dress up and not get a first look until they were in the same room with the officiant. Robin and Wayne were the legal witnesses while the rest of the kids were there just for show. Steve’s parents, yet again, couldn’t be bothered to show up and support their son. He couldn’t say he was surprised anymore—if anything, he would be more shocked if they actually showed up.

As soon as the two saw each other, they collapsed into a hug, crying tears of joy. Steve held onto Eddie’s face, praising him for how gorgeous he looked (and of course teasing him about how nice he cleaned up).

They exchanged their vows, finished the necessary paperwork, including Eddie’s name change, and it was official. Mister and Missus Mister Harrington (yes, they did cross it out and write in the proper prefix on the official document).

They threw a reception back at their apartment. It may have been a bit cramped, but to them, it was perfect. It was low-key, cheap, and had their closest and most favorite people there—what’s not to love? When the time came to cut the cake, the newly weds had a trick up their sleeve to surprise everyone, but mostly the teens.

At Eddie’s most recent doctor appointment, they were given the choice to know the sex of the baby. At first, they wanted it to be a surprise, but figured it would be more fun to find out with everyone. So, they had the doctor put the sex in an envelope, and when they boys placed the order for their wedding cake, they requested either pink or blue for the cake itself—whichever the gender ended up being.

The two looked to each other, slyly smirking, as they cut into the cake. When they pulled the slice out, they started giggled and tearing up, confusing the rest of the group. Robin and Wayne eventually put it together and started cheering and chanting “I knew it!”—the teens, on the other hand, were lost.

“Uh, what’s going on? Why is everyone crying?” Dustin asked.

“It’s a girl,” Robin chirped.

“What’s a girl?”

“Surprise…” Eddie smirked, unbuttoning the front of his suit jacket, proudly displaying his baby bump.

“Oh my god!” Everyone cheered before smothering them in hugs.

“How long have you known?” Dustin asked.

“Since April,” Steve smiled.

“And you’re just telling us now‽”

“Hey, it’s only July. We could’ve waiting to tell you until after she was here, which we were initially going to do. But someone talked me out of it.”

“You’re welcome.” Eddie winked.

“Do you guys have a name yet?”

“I think so,” Steve said. “I picked the first name and Eddie picked the middle.”

“Why? Shouldn’t Eddie get first dibs on names?” Robin asked.

“Because, Rob, whenever Ed suggests a name it’s something completely inappropriate for a child.”

“Judas is a nice name!” Eddie defended.

“Not for an infant!”

“Whatever, I like it.”

“Lord help your daughter.”

“Ugh, daughter,” Steve gushed. “A little baby girl. We’re gonna put her in the cutest little outfits and learn how to take care of her hair and how to do the styles she wants, and–“

“Steve, she barely has lungs. Calm down. One thing at a time.”

“Who’s hair do you think she’ll have?”

“Both, Steven, my lord. It’s almost like we both made her.”

“Do you think she’ll look like one of us, but maybe the next one will look like the other?”

“Whoa…” Eddie panicked. “Next one‽ This one’s not even out of me yet.”

“Just thinking ahead.” He shrugged.

“Steve, can I have a word?”

Despite it being a question, Eddie wasn’t really asking. He latched onto Steve’s collar and dragged him to their bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

“What was that about?” Eddie hissed.

“What was what about?”

“Announcing all these kids we’re gonna have.”

“Well… I want like five or six kids, so–“

“Oh, will you be carrying them?”

“Ed–“

“Because, Steven, I will not be doing this again. Are we clear? I cannot go through this again.”

“Eddie–“

“I have been miserable, Steve. I fucking hate myself. I can’t look myself in the mirror. Do you know what that’s like? To hate yourself so fucking much when you don’t want to? I know our baby girl is growing in me. I know all I’m doing for her, but Jesus Christ, I hate myself. I wasn’t meant to do this, Steve, I really wasn’t. I’m a guy… guys aren’t meant to be pregnant and have kids. I’m doing this for you and for our baby girl, but if you think I’m ever doing this again, then you must be dumber than I fucking thought.”

“Did you, of all fucking people, just call me dumb?”

“Why me of all people, Steve?”

“You were held back twice and graduated high school at twenty! Nobody fucking does that, Ed! It was always you who said I could finish in you or that I didn’t need protection—it’s like you were fucking asking for this! So I don’t want to hear it. This is your fault just as much as it is mine!”

“I’m not the one that wanted the stupid kid! If I had my way we wouldn’t be here right now!”

Steve’s face fell as tears were brought to his eyes. He took a few steps away from his husband, in complete disbelief that he would even suggest that he didn’t want their child.

“You don’t mean that…” Steve whispered.

“No, I don’t.” Eddie sighed, aggressively rubbing is face, forcing his tears to stay in. “I’m sorry, Stevie… I really am. It’s just… this is getting to me so much. I barely know who I am anymore. I feel like I’m back in high school… living someone else’s life for the sake of others. I hate it.” Steve sniffed and wiped his eyes, refusing to even look at Eddie. “I’m sorry I called you dumb… I didn’t mean it. I’m just upset. Kids are a huge thing… you can’t just go and assume we’re gonna have this gaggle without consulting me.”

“I guess I am a little ditzy,” Steve scoffed.

“Yeah, but it’s part of your charm.” Eddie moved closer, smiling fondly at his husband, brushing bits of hair out of his face.

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled. “We never talked about kids before you got pregnant with Bonnie–“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Time out. Bonnie? Is that the name you picked?” Eddie softly smiled.

“Yeah… you like it?”

“I love it… little baby bon-bon…” Eddie’s eyes were softer now, filled with peace after the storm. He wiped a few of Steve’s tears from his cheeks, resting his hand on his jaw. “I’m sorry, I cut you off. I got distracted by Bonnie… what were you saying?”

“Just, it was wrong for me to assume you’d do this over and over again. I should’ve known better, Eds… I know how much you’re struggling. It was selfish of me and I’m sorry.”

“You’re a man with too much love in your heart, Steve Harrington. You just want to give it to as many people as possible. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

“I love you too.” He gave Eddie a quick kiss.

“On the bright side, we got our first fight as a married couple out of the way.”

“Yeah, I guess we did…” The two shrugged and high fived. Steve held onto Eddie’s hand and pulled him in for a proper kiss, dipping him slightly for dramatic effect.

“God, you’re something else, Harrington,” Eddie giggled.

“Yeah, you’re not one to talk, Harrington.”

“You can use that as a playful insult towards me all you want. I’ll never get sick of hearing it.”

“Oh yeah, Harrington?”

“Yeah.” Eddie winked and chewed at his bottom lip. He played with Steve’s jacket a bit, pulling him in so their lips were mere centimeters away. “You wanna have a quick round of make-up sex before we go back out there?”

“Do you really need to ask? Pants off, Harrington, let’s go.”

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sweetpascal · 8 days

Text

: : chapter one : :

series masterlist

summary: bill and frank come to a decision that will ultimately change their lives forever.

warnings: sad frank breaks my heart, bill is lowkey a very reassuring partner, process of adoption

word count: 3k

MAY 2001

Bill noticed a change in the atmosphere that he couldn't ignore. As soon as he woke up and discovered Frank, his companion, wasn't by his side, he felt it. This was by no means an uncommon instance. The latter usually got up before the sun came up to run a few laps around the neighborhood in order to stay in shape. After doing it once, Bill vowed never to do it again. He would want to work out by performing all of the heavy lifting both inside and outside the home. He knew long before Frank came along that the older he grew, the less important appearance was to him. He is content as long as he eats somewhat healthily. Though Frank pleaded otherwise, he was still alive, so that counts.

Bill did not detect the aroma of breakfast. Usually, Frank would make a delicious breakfast to surprise the older man after finishing his laps around the neighborhood. Bill would always complain about the ingredients being wasted, yet his little smile belied that. And so, with a tired huff, he pulled himself out of bed and gave a big stretch that made his bones crack. Stifling a yawn, he finally left the comfort of his shared bedroom and curiously began peeking in the upstairs rooms.

Frank's art room was empty; an easel faced the window and a few incomplete works of art leaned against the wall. Bill's office was vacant; bookcases lined the walls from left to right, piled high with books, and a tiny oak desk sat in the center of the space. As usual, the guest bedroom was also vacant; a twin-sized bed was nestled into a corner, accompanied by a dresser painted in a chestnut hue and an empty bookshelf that rested just below Bill's chest. There were a few ideas on what both men wanted to turn the spare room into, but Bill had just decided to keep it as a guest bedroom. "For any future friends we might have?" Frank had asked him with a teasing smile. Bill had grumbled under his breath and retorted with, "For when I get tired of your cold feet pressing against my damn legs every night." He didn't bother hiding his smile back then.

He thinks fondly of the memory and makes his way down the carpeted stairs. God, he hates these stairs. They’re so easy to get filthy. He contemplates on stripping away the carpet and leaving the original wood, but Frank says that’ll be too much work, time, and money all for nothing. As he rounds the corner into the foyer, he comes to a halt when he finally sees his person. Curled up on a loveseat tilted towards the window, Frank sits silently with his eyes fixated on all the kids waiting at the bus stop. He knew Bill was there, but couldn’t say anything. And that definitely worried the latter.

“You’re up early,” Bill announced gruffly, sleep still traced in his voice and puffy eyes. He spots the empty cup of coffee on the small side table by Frank’s nice. He notices that the stained mug was already dried up, revealing to Bill that his partner must’ve been down here for quite some time. “Hey... are you... alright?”

Frank eventually looks up at the love of his life after emerging from his quiet daze. Thick tears welled up in his once-dazzling green eyes, which are now clouded with an unfathomable despair. A tear trickled down his beloved's cheek and vanished into his beard, causing Bill to experience a sharp anguish in his chest. Frank has always had a delicate spirit. He cares so much and feels so profoundly. Once, Bill got in trouble for trampling on some flowers that had sprouted up in their lawn. Frank had chastised him for hours. And now since he appeared to be so devoid of the life that he typically possesses, Bill was undoubtedly concerned.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Bill mutters softly and sits in the chair beside his lover. “What’s with the tears, Frank? I need you to talk to me.” He lays a hand gentle on top of Frank’s folded ones. “Was it... Was it what I said last night? About the mashed potatoes being too salty?”

A watery laugh escaped Frank’s lips before he could stop it. Tears or not, that sound had Bill’s heart skipping a beat. A smile perked at his lips, making his beard move with them. Frank sniffled and dapped at his eyes with a balled up tissue paper he pulled from his robe pocket. Bill moved his hand down to rest on his lover’s knee, squeezing gently and rubbing with his thumb. He let him have a few moments to compose himself.

“I just...” Frank’s voice cracked and he swallowed thickly. He glanced outside to see all the children finally getting on the bus with a transporter making sure they got on safely. “We’ve been together for, what, going on almost 15 years now?” Bill nods in agreement. “We’re not getting any younger, honey. And... I’ve just... I see these kids and I see these families and I get hit with the realization that we may never get that - I may never get that.” Bill knows where this conversation is going, and so he slowly removes his hand from Frank’s knee and leans back into his seat with his eyes casted down. “What I’m saying is... I want us to have a child, Bill. I want us to start a family.”

He was silent. Bill was always silent, but this was unusually silent. Frank sniffles again and puts his trembling hands on his partner’s knees, his lip shaking when he exhales a shuddering breath.

“I... I’m not asking for an answer right now, Bill.” He hates how unsure Frank sounds, almost nervous and scared. To be completely honest, Bill was also nervous and scared. He’s petrified. The possibilities of what this could entail are endless. Two men with a child? They’ve never had any problems when it came to them being together from their neighbors (from what Frank has told him), but what happens if a child will change all of that? “I-I know with our lifestyle, it-it may cause some questioning thoughts and-and I understand why you’d wanna disagree, but I think-”

“Okay.”

Frank’s throat tightened and the words died on his lips. The expression on Bill’s face was unreadable, but his eyes said everything he needed to know. Oh, his eyes; they carry the words that Bill could not speak.

“O-Okay...?” Frank shakily whispered as he got down on his knees by Bill’s feet, both hands now gripping his partner’s tightly as if he’ll float away at this moment if he lets go. “‘Okay’ as in okay, stop talking or ‘okay’ as in okay, let’s do it?”

Bill feels a tickle in his right nostril and a lump in his throat as he sees the familiar sparkle in Frank’s eyes that made him fall for him over a decade ago. It took a long time for him to let the walls down and for him to accept who he is. It was Frank that gently coaxed him out of this protective shell. Everything has been Frank’s doing. And now, looking down at the love of his life, hearing the hopeful tone in his voice, he knew he already made his decision.

He leans in closer and cups Frank’s face in his hands, thumbs stroking away the tears that slip down and into his beard. “My life would not be complete if it weren’t for your happiness. Everything I do, I do for you and for us.” His eyes dart back and forth between Frank’s eyes. Nothing else mattered to them at this moment. Bill continues, “My purpose is you, Frank. And if having a family will make you happy, then... I’ll make sure it happens.”

Frank lets out a shuddering breath and laughs, his eyes crinkling at the sides; Bill could feel his dimples under his thumbs through his thick beard. They lock eyes for a split second before Frank is leaning up on his knees to pull him into a wet kiss filled with delighted cries, laughter, and tears. When they pull away, Frank is looking up at him like he hung the moon, and he might as well have if it means he’ll look at him like that for eternity.

“It-It’s not just what I want, Bill,” Frank sniffles and shakes his head, tucking a lock of hair behind Bill’s ear and lovingly playing with his earlobe. “I want you to want this too.”

There was a long beat of silence. The birds chirp chirp chirp outside amongst the trees and the occasional car drivers down the street. But right now, both men can only hear each other’s heartbeats. Then, Bill spoke softly and tenderly.

“I want to have a family with you, Frank.”

JULY 2001

Getting accepted for an appointment at an agency had taken several months. A few streets away from Bill and Frank's residence were two women named Lilith and Vivian. They relocated from Florida all the way. They have been married for five years and have been together for over 20. A friend of Vivian’s works at an adoption agency that helps cases like Bill and Frank, to better their chances in getting accepted for adoption. Bill was primarily worried about the two of them being rejected and ostracized for being two male life partners who merely want to start a family and provide happiness for a child.

But then, Frank had gotten the call from one of the workers, Janine or Janie. Bill had heard his hollering and whooping from inside the basement. He ran upstairs as fast as he could, almost breaking the door down as he shoved it open with his shoulder. When he rounded the corner and into the foyer, the bright smile that adorned Frank’s face nearly blinded him.

“We got in!”

The hug that they shared was one that even the strongest beasts can’t break apart. Frank is openly sobbing in Bill’s neck while the latter chokes back tears. What used to be fear and anxiety was now replaced with readiness.

Frank and Bill sat in the too-bright, too-small agency office later that week. Both of them are dressed comfortably–not in a flashy way, but also not in a raggedy way. They had the same appearance as every other middle-aged man who lived in a suburban area. They glance at one other and exchange anxious smiles as the papers rustle. Even though they were anxious, this was the section that really alarmed them.

“Well,” the woman behind the desk clears her throat and adjusts her cat-eye reading glasses, “Seems as though both of your applications have no issues. Your credit history is outstanding, your background checks have both come back clean, and your references say nothing but good things about you gentlemen.” She gives them both a reassuring smile that eases their nerves.

The breath of relief they both release makes the woman laugh heartily. Frank squeezes Bill’s hand and taps his thumb three times. Bill repeats the same gesture and tries not to give a big smile, reserved only for his partner. The woman hands them both a stack of stapled papers in a manilla folder with their names written in the corner.

“These papers basically give you detailed next steps through your adoption process. I’m going to appoint you both a social worker during whichever availability you both agree upon. It’s to ensure that your home is stable enough to bring in one of our kids and to also see your day-to-day life, how you act with each other, and so on.”

Frank hangs onto every word while Bill takes it upon himself to read and reread the papers multiple times to take in every bit of information he can get.

“This can also be known as a ‘home study.’ A lot of the parents that come in here don’t exactly... live up to their appearances, if you know what I mean,” the woman speaks in a somber tone and offers them a sad smile. “And... a lot of the kids that we send off after we complete the home study almost always come back here. I just... I really need you both to be committed to this as I am with you. I’ve known Vivian for a long time and she speaks so highly of you both. I never get personal with my clients, but God, I really don’t want to regret this.”

Frank glances at Bill and leans forward in his seat. “I’m not going to speak for the people who have sat in these very chairs. Bill and I... well, we’ve come a long way. It’s not easy for two men like us to live their lives like heterosexual couples. But the easy part is raising a family and... and making sure our child lives in a home where there is no animosity and hostility.”

The woman looks over at Bill and realizes that his eyes have never left the man sitting beside him. If she knew any better, she’d say that there were hearts in his deep blue eyes. Frank speaks from his heart and soul, all the while Bill is his silent supporter. She’s never seen a pure love like this, not even with Vivian and Lilith.

Bill clears his throat and shifts in his uncomfortable plastic chair. “Ma’am, I love my... Frank. And I’m going to be honest with you, I’ve never been more scared in my entire life.” Frank stifles a soft laugh. “But... we will give this child a happy home, and that’s a promise I would never break.”

All three sit in a few seconds of heavy silence. Then, she gives them a heartwarming smile, and Frank almost swears he sees tears in her eyes.

NOVEMBER 2001

A girl. They were getting a little girl.

The last few months of the adoption process had been grueling and agonizing, but they held hope. And then, they had gotten a call from the agency, along with a fax of some minimal information on their child. Both parents deceased, grandparents unfortunately had to sign their rights away so the system could care for her due to their old age. From what the social worker has told the men over the phone, she’s a quiet one; loves to read her little stories and softly talk about fantasy worlds and escapism. No medical history other than acute asthma. Frank had nearly cried a river knowing that they’re gonna become a family so soon.

Bill had transformed the guest bedroom. Powder white bed sheets with tiny flowers littered all over adorned the twin-sized mattress. Pastel colored shelves lined the walls. Frank had repainted the small bookshelf and included some books and small stuffed animals that their adopted daughter might enjoy. Bill had surprised his lover with a thrifted dresser covered in midnight blue paint and small stars and moons in gold were slapped on as well. It had only taken less than a week to fix up the room.

Normally around this month, they would decorate the inside and outside of the house for Christmas. It had barely begun to snow. Frank wanted to wait before they had their girl to decorate with. Who knew how long it must’ve been before she had a family to spend Christmas with? Bill only watched from afar as his partner fussed. But deep down inside, seeing him so happy was everything he could ask for.

Three weeks later, it was time.

That same morning, Frank looked at himself in the mirror and anxiously tugged at the collar of his forest green flannel and coat. His palms were sweaty; he had to constantly wipe them on his dark jeans. His heart hammered rapidly in his chest like a butterfly flapping its wings or a woodpecker pecking into a tree. His hair was nicely combed and his beard was trimmed down. He swallowed thickly and nodded to himself. Bill grinned smally underneath his own trimmed beard at the sight of his love fussing at himself once again. When Frank finally turned, he nearly jumped at the sight of his partner. There was a silent dialogue that both men could only understand. It was the subtlety at Bill’s nod and the way his eyes smiled.

“Let’s go get our girl,” Bill told him so softly, his voice thick and gruff with emotion that Frank rarely hears.

Now, standing in the same office months prior, they were ready. Standing side by side with Bill’s right hand being tightly held with Frank’s left hand, they give each other one last look of adoration before the sound of the doorknob twisting broke them out of it.

There she stands, peering up at both men curiously while the social worker gently coaxes her into the room. As Bill makes eye contact, suddenly the world seems more bright and colorful. He hears Frank let out a shuddering breath, but nothing else around him mattered. As he gets down on one knee, even though they crack and shoot pain up his lower back, he still doesn’t care. Frank follows next to him, one hand tenderly holding onto his shoulder as the other lands on his knee.

“Frank, Bill,” the social worker begins. “I want you to meet Y/N.” The woman glances at both men and feels her heart soar as she gets to witness the moment of two people falling in love with their child. “Y/N, these are going to be your daddies.”

The little girl doesn’t even utter a single word before she goes barrelling into Bill’s chest, tiny arms wrapping around his neck while her head finds its home on his shoulder. Frank lets out a watery laugh and wipes at his tears while he rubs her little back. Bill shuts his own eyes as a lonesome tear slides down his warm cheek. He can hear Frank and the social worker discussing the next step, but all he can focus on is his girl’s soft breathing and happy humming.

They finally have their girl.

next chapter

#bill x frank #bill tlou #frank tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader

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