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#love to look back on your life and realize you have a concerning amount of lost time
motherjoel · 1 year
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arms tonite (joel miller/reader)
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summary: basically its YOU who gets stabbed by the baseball bat. joel isnt good with feelings. david does not exist david cant hurt anybody. a bit of angst and a bit of fluff. also LOOSELY based on arms tonite by mother mother
a/n: yawlllllll it has been a MINUTE but i am back for some tlou cause i just really wanted to write for these characters i love so very much. i apologize if the timing of their travel is fucked, i truly have no concept of geography so we can ignore that.
wc: 3.5k
warnings: just general tlou gore, nothin too bad
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You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Joel Miller. But as you lay here, Joel's hands soaked in your blood as he attempted to stop it from pulsating out of your abdomen, you knew it was love that you were feeling. It was supposed to be simple. After your brief stay in Jackson, the two of you were supposed to take Ellie to the fireflies. Yet, nothing seemed to be simple these days, especially not around this girl.
In the amount of time the three of you had spent together, you developed an unbreakable bond. Ellie became a sort of surrogate sister to you- you’d lost your family when you were just a kid during the outbreak and you never had the chance to become a big sister. At least not for long. And then there was Joel. You weren’t quite sure what he meant to you yet, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t die for him. For both of them, really- a life without them wasn’t worth living. Of course, you never planned on telling them that.
The day started fairly nice- with Joel allowing Ellie to make her own decision about who would be taking her to the fireflies. Sure, you and Ellie would be fine with Tommy, but Joel had failed to consider the bond the three of you shared when making this decision. He was thinking of only himself and his fear- this is what you had told him last night after his fight with Ellie.
“What the hell was that?” you asked him after he stormed out of Ellie’s temporary room. 
“It was nothin’. Doesn’t concern you,” he replied, brushing past you as he made his way to the couch where he decided to set up camp for the night. 
“Um, it sure as hell does concern me, Joel. Are you seriously going to abandon us? After everything we’ve been through, after how much that girl trusts you, Joel!” you raised your voice a bit, trying to keep yourself from alerting Ellie upstairs. Those words stung him a bit. He didn’t see it as abandonment- he saw it as protection. After everything you went through together, he never once put himself first.
“She doesn’t know a thing about what this means,” Joel turned to you. “She- she’s just a kid, she-” he stopped himself, trying to gather himself. “I can’t bring her. I’m not capable, I’m slowin’ down and I just can’t. Do. It,” he exhaled, dropping himself onto the couch. 
“Wow,” you replied, softly sitting next to him. “You’re really underestimating yourself,” you sighed, Joel, lifting his face to look at you. “I mean, not only yourself but me, Joel. In case you’d forgotten, I’ve gotten myself through some tough shit. And Ellie? Man, she's the toughest kid I’ve ever met. Hell, she's one of the toughest people I’ve ever met,” you said, observing Joel’s worn face. “I mean… don't you think she at least deserves a choice?” you asked, hoping to convince Joel to come to his senses and realize who he was.
“I’ll take the couch. Bedrooms down the hall,” he grumbled before turning his back to you and lying down. There was nothing left you could say at this point, so you decided to spare yourself and make your way to the bedroom. The bed was pretty big. It could’ve fit two people.
The moment you saw Joel in the stables the next morning, you could feel your heart soar. Before he said a word, you knew he had made the right decision. The three of you squeezed onto the horse, Ellie sandwiched in the middle, and you were off. You and Joel sat in peaceful silence for a while, occasionally responding to Ellie’s rambling to show you were listening. Before you knew it, you were arriving at the so-called firefly base. 
“What the fu-” you started.
“Holy shit! Are those monkeys?” Ellie exclaimed, pointing at the crowd of animals before you.
“Must be from the old labs,” Joel muttered, a hint of interest in his voice
“Look at them go!” you giggled.
“First time seein’ a monkey?” Joel asked the two of you. 
“First time seein' a monkey,” you replied in unison, both awestruck. A smile crept onto Joel's face at this- the togetherness he felt in rare moments like this is what kept him going. 
You soon came across the fireflies symbol painted on a couple of signs, but no guards appeared nearby. You all dismounted the horse before making your way inside, guns drawn. You in the back, Joel in the front, and Ellie sandwiched between yet again. The building you came across was abandoned from the looks of it, with papers scattered about. 
“They just left,” Joel said, coming across a packing list among the scattered supplies. You suddenly heard a clang from another room, drawing your attention.
“Maybe not all of them,” you replied as the three of you carefully moved towards the sound. Your heart picked up its pace- whatever was in that room couldn’t be a firefly. Maybe a raider, you thought, which didn’t help your anxieties. Joel put a finger to his lips before opening the door, signaling for your silence. Relief rushed through you as you saw the source of the noise was just a few stray monkeys. It was only moments later that you heard voices- voices that certainly didn’t come from an animal. Peering out the window, the three of you saw a group of men, presumably raiders.
“Shit,” you murmured, instinctively grabbing Ellie’s arm.
“Out the back,” said Joel, leading the way for the three of you to make your escape. You ducked behind some sandbags for a moment before making your break to the horse. As Joel untied the horse, you heard footsteps quickly making their way over to you.
“Joel!” Ellie screamed as the man swung his bat at his head, hitting it on a tree and breaking it in two. While Joel dodged his attack you jumped on the man and banged him into the tree behind him before he knocked you back on your ass, banging your head on the ground. You’ve had your fair share of concussions, and you knew that's exactly what just happened to you. Joel quickly recovered from the first attack before grabbing the man, a wave of anger in his eyes as you’ve never seen before. His arm tightened around the man's throat, unrelenting in its strength. Struggle as he may, it wasn’t long before his neck was snapped. You remain on the ground, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you look at Ellie, shakily holding her gun. Her eyes darken as they shift down to your stomach. Your eyes follow hers and you finally see what she’s looking at. When the man hit the bat into the tree, it must've snapped in half. One half was on the ground a few feet away from you, while, unfortunately, the other half was buried in your stomach.
“Shit,” Ellie said, lowering her gun and walking over to you. Your hand reached down, adrenaline still pumping through your body, and you instinctively pulled the wooden piece out of your abdomen. You barely even felt it. Joel was silent the entire time, and you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. You threw it aside before noticing three more men coming your way. As fast as possible, Joel hiked himself up onto the horse and grabbed you while Ellie pushed from the ground before pulling herself up, you now sitting between the two. Joel didn’t let himself focus on the anxiety in his chest that blurred his vision- he needed to get you both to safety.
“Fuck,” you sighed, adrenaline wearing off a bit and pain seeping in. 
“Go!” Ellie yelled to Joel as you began to move. She grabbed her gun and shot backward at the men- she didn’t have the best aim, but it certainly deterred them from advancing anymore. Ellie kept peering over her shoulder, on high alert. If you weren’t putting all of your focus on staying conscious, you’d have noticed her slight tremble. You would have noticed Joel's body tense when your breathing slowed, his occasional glance over his shoulder. His erratic heartbeat as he tried to keep you talking.
“We’re gonna get back to Jackson and we’re gonna get some help,” Joel said over his shoulder. There wasn’t a hint of emotion in his voice- he was excellent at hiding how he truly feels. 
“No,” you uttered, using all of your strength.
“Sorry, no?” Joel questioned.
“Get her to the fireflies,” you whispered before your vision began to blur. Your lifeless body crumpled off the horse, Ellie attempted to hold on but it all happened too fast. The cold snow was stained red, the warm blood leaving your body melting the snow directly beneath you. Joel and Ellie quickly hopped down, one on each side of you. 
“Fuck fuck fuck,” Ellie panicked, hands shakily reaching towards your abdomen. 
“Ellie,” Joel said, voice laced with panic. He motioned for her to grab his pack while he placed his hands onto the wound, blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers. He had never felt so helpless in his life- at least, not since Sarah. That same shuddered breathing coming from a person he loves- he couldn’t bear it.
“Joel, what the fuck do we do,” she asked. Joel continued to silently work on packing your wound with an extra flannel he had in his bag.
“It’s ok,” you croaked. They immediately turned to you on the ground, almost stopping in their tracks. “Just help me to that house,” you said, motioning towards a house about 50 yards away. You were struggling to breathe under the pressure of Joel’s hands on your wound- it almost seemed useless, you were still losing blood like crazy. Joel tied the flannel around your waist to try to keep the blood from seeping out. Once he decided you were situated, he picked you up bridal style and led you to the house. When you arrived, they gently placed you at the entrance, Ellie staying with you while Joel made sure the house was clear. He returned to help you inside, lying you on an old mattress. You let out a small laugh as you got situated.
“What?” Joel asked, a hint of irritation in his voice. How could you be laughing right now?
“Don’tcha think it's kinda cute?” you asked as he fussed with your bandages.
“What’s that?” he asked gruffly, not exactly in the mood for your attitude.
“Oh, just that I might be dying in your arms tonight. I dunno, feels like a movie,” you said, your pale lips curling into a smile. He gave you a look, pausing briefly to peer into your eyes. You wordlessly pleaded with him to lighten the mood a bit, for Ellie’s sake. He didn't say a word.
“Joel, what the fuck do we do?” Ellie repeated herself in her panic.
“It’s ok. You guys go. Now,” you said. Joel's eyebrows furrowed at this. “You leave, go north. Go to Tommy.”
“Um, the fuck?” Ellie asked. “I don’t know what you think this is but we're not leaving,” Ellie said, frustration creeping into her voice. She looked hurt by this, and it broke your heart. Were you doing the same thing Joel had done just last night?
“The kids right,” Joel said as you turned to look at him. “You’re either comin' with us or we're all campin’ here for the night. No in-between” Joel finished. You pleaded to him with your eyes again, begging him to just give up on you. The two of them would be fine, you knew it. But you didn’t know the emotional toll it would have taken on the stubborn man in front of you. He was stubborn, but so were you. Only you didn’t get a chance to prove just how stubborn you could be before you couldn’t fight the darkness that crept into your vision. 
-
You woke with a start the next morning. You often woke in a panic these days, but the feeling was only further cemented when you realized you didn’t quite recognize your surroundings. The only thing you could recognize was Joel’s eyes on you, which brought you some semblance of comfort. When he noticed you awake, he rushed to your side. As much as you could imagine Joel to “rush.”
“Hey, you uh, awake. You’re awake,” he said softly, trying not to wake Ellie asleep in the corner of the same dilapidated room you’d been in for a while now. 
“It would appear so,” you replied, attempting to sit up a bit.
“Hey, hey, relax,” he put his hand on your shoulder, urging you to lay back down. “Your infections bad. We managed to trade for some penicillin but it's not gonna be enough. We gotta figure out how to get you back to Jackson,” Joel said, lightly lifting your shirt to look at the wound.
 You cursed the heat rising to your face as Joel's fingers brushed your bare skin. You’d never been intimate like this before, though this was barely intimacy. He hadn’t ever touched your skin like this- with such delicacy. You were fragile to him at this moment, and you needed to be handled with care. You hated being a burden, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel nice to be taken care of for once.
You were too busy focusing on your own reaction to this gesture to notice Joels. His hands shook as he cared for your wound, wincing as he saw that it really wasn’t getting any better. He didn’t know what this meant- he wasn’t a doctor by any means, but he knew this wasn’t good. 
You were in and out of sleep throughout the next day or two, letting the dull, throbbing pain lull you into sleep. It hurt to watch Joel and Ellie worry about you, especially because there was nothing you could do to help. Your days felt numbered- the amount of penicillin was scarce and you weren’t feeling any better. You barely had the strength to keep your eyes open, much less speak. 
“Joel,” you managed to croak- you couldn’t even spare the energy to seethe at the pain pulsating throughout your body.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” he replied, kneeling next to you. He only called you sweetheart when he needed something- what did he need from you now? To live? “Whatcha need?”
“You’re special, you know that?” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.
“And why is that?” he asked, wiping the tear.
“You really know how to make a girl fall in love,” you smiled- this isn’t something you ever planned on telling him, but as you lie there, vision blurring around the edges as the darkness caved in on you, there was nothing else you wanted to say.
Joel felt panic consume him when your eyes closed.
“Hey, hey darlin’, wake up for me, okay?” he pleaded. Ellie stalked over, panic heating her chest. “Ellie, grab her legs,” Joel said. It was like he was kicked into a new gear- he was going to do whatever it took to keep you with him.
-
You didn’t know where you were. The walls were unfamiliar and white- stark and sterile. The first thing you noticed was the couch in the corner of the room, occupied by your two favorite people. Joel sat upright, arms crossed and eyes closed. His brows were furrowed like he was having some sort of nightmare. Ellie’s expression mirrored his, as she lay on her side with her head resting on his leg, arms curled into her chest. Your heart warmed at the sight- he was becoming a father figure to her, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. You tried to sit up, failing immediately as pain shot through your body. You winced, perhaps a little too loud, as Joel’s eyes shot open. Ellie remained in a deep sleep on his lap.
“You’re up,” he acknowledged, almost like it was too good to be true. He carefully shifted his body so he could move Ellie from his lap and onto the couch before he stood to walk towards you. “She hasn’t gotten much sleep, be best not to wake her,” he said, leaning down to brush a hair from her face. Seeing him be this gentle with her melted your heart. 
“How, um, how long was I out?” you asked, lifting the sheets to see your wound. It was covered and clean, but you knew it was there from the way it throbbed.
“About a week. Scared the shit out of… the kid,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. He bit back what he truly wanted to say- you scared the shit out of him. But he wasn’t going to admit that you had that much of an impact on him. The second he lets others affect his life is the second he gets weak. There wasn’t a place for vulnerability in this world. “It was, a, uh, miracle that you lived.”
“Oh yeah?” your eyebrows raised. “Shit. I’m sorry for worrying… her,” you glanced at Ellie again as she snuggled into the couch. “How did I, um how did you guys get me here?” you asked. Your voice was hoarse from lack of use, but you tried to remain strong.
“We, uh, we gotcha back on the horse. Ellie led the way, I made sure you were safe, I mean, I just made sure you didn’t fall,” he replied, looking at his feet. “Took us awhile to get back, I… I didn't think you were gonna make it,” he replied, coughing to cover up the break in his voice. He was still in disbelief that you even woke up.
“Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me,” you laughed weakly. Then it was silent for a few moments, the two of you stewing in your thoughts. “You know, I think if it had been anybody else with me, I would’ve just died,” you remarked. Joel shook his head.
“Well, that’s not true. You’re strong” he said quietly.
“Well, yeah, sure I’m strong. But I can choose not to be. I honestly would’ve been fine to die if it was in your arms. But I couldn’t do that to you. Not… not again,” you paused, gathering your thoughts. “It’s just… you’re it for me, Joel. You and Ellie- you guys are it. And if I can’t have you guys, well, let's just say I wouldn’t mind staying asleep,” you confessed, avoiding eye contact.
“Ahem…” you heard Ellie clear her throat from her position on the couch. “Sorry, I have a habit of snooping, but holy shit you’re awake!” she squealed, bouncing over to you and plopping herself onto you in a hug. She knocked the wind out of you, and you may have cared if you weren’t so happy to see her.
“Hey, hey, easy on her now,” Joel said, pulling Ellie back from you a bit. He was still quiet, processing what you had just said to him.
“Ahhh, my sweet Ellie girl, how I missed you so,” you smiled, pinching her cheeks.
“Bullshit, you were definitely just dreaming about Joel the whole time. Must’ve been nice, sleeping that long,” she laughed. You ignore the first part of her sentence.
“Yeah, I guess I’m pretty well rested,” you smiled, ruffling her hair and pulling her into another hug.
“I’m gonna go get someone, a nurse,” Ellie excused herself from the room, leaving you with Joel yet again.
“I’m sorry if that was too mu-” you started before Joel cut you off.
“No, no, don’t apologize, sweetheart,” he said softly. It wasn’t a whisper- it was just soft. He’d been so soft with you. “I… I can’t say I don’t feel the same,” he looked down at his shoes.
“Oh, uh, you do?” you blushed. You felt so childish, like you were admitting you had a crush on him, but it was more than that. It was a partnership, a dependency- a loyalty to one another that didn’t need a label. Only, you couldn’t hide the way you felt anymore.
“Gosh, I can’t even tell you how it felt to see you like that. It should’ve been me, you know,” he said, disappointment evident on his features.
“Um, no, it shouldn’t have. Besides, how would we have gotten your big ass back to Jackson?” you giggled, grabbing his hand. His expression changed then as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “Joel, what does this mean?” you asked.
He chose not to respond with words- they were never his strong suit. Without a word, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. It was soft and it was sweet and it was like nothing you had ever experienced before- not from someone you loved. You reciprocated, weaving a hand into his hair to pull him closer.
“Yeah, they’re just in here-woahhhhhhh!” Ellie yelled, giggling and running out of the room. Joel quickly pulled back and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
“That little shit,” he sighed.
“Well, she was gonna have to find out somehow,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his bruised knuckles.
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novalpha · 9 months
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𝘑𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘶𝘢 𝐹𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠
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♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Virgin killer ♡★ -> @wonusite Part 2
Synopsis: You can’t stand the clear line the cute nerd in your calculus class always draws between you two. However, you’re determined to show him that there’s a fine line between love and hate. And if you happen to get him to cross that line, even better.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Anonymously Yours ♡୨୧✹ -> @joonsytip
Synopsis: After an accidental text message turns into a digital friendship, you and Joshua start crushing on each other without realizing you both see each other frequently in real life. Notable Mention: You both hate each other's guts....
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Pretty when you cry ★ -> @cheolhub
summary. joshua just loves how pretty you look when you’re in tears.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Say it back ♡ -> @diamondyjh
Synopsis: A tipsy Joshua is a clingy Joshua.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Vanilla ★♡ -> @milfgyuu
Summary: Joshua has a secret but perhaps it’s not really a secret at all. Maybe you’ve just refused to see it in an effort to keep your feelings at bay.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Wildest dreams ♡✹ -> @viastro
synopsis: it’s your last year of school forever, and you’re about to meet the most horrifying chapter of life: the real world. now worrying about your life’s lack of spontaneity, you decide to get married to your best friend in vegas for 24 hours.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Beautiful day Sunday morning ★♡ -> @sluttywoozi
Summary: Joshua’s tried everything, but he just can’t stop being in love with his best friend
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Steamy ★ -> @duhnova
next door neighbor!joshua - unfortunately in the middle of your shower your hot water breaks so you have to go next door and ask your unnaturally hot neighbor if you can use his
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Domino ♡✹★ -> @universecorp
Summary: After a one night stand on your birthday, you never expected to meet the stranger again. You also never expected him to enter your life permanently.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Under the rose ♡★ -> @just-come-baek
Summary: You’ve known Joshua your entire life, and it has always irked you when he got praised for the same things you were scolded for. You hate these societal double standards thrown upon you almost as much as people who judge you for it. Thankfully, you have Joshua, who just gets you.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Late to the party ★ -> @sluttywoozi Part 2 , Sundress Szn
Summary: You try to convince Joshua to go to Cheol's birthday party. Joshua tries to convince you to have a party for two | husband!joshua, husband joshua is horny and in love with you
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Your gentleman ★ -> @wonwussy
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Leaning on the everlasting arms ♡୨୧★ -> @onlyhuis
synopsis | as kids growing up in the same church, you and joshua were inseperable, until you got to an age where it was considered immoral for girls and boys to be friends. when you find him again just before graduation, he's different than you remember; but so are you.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Best friend's brother ♡୨୧★ -> @chocosvt
synopsis: joshua happens to be your best friend's older brother. he's pretty, and he's got a lot of cool details about him that you pay a concerning amount of attention to, but he’s just a friend (if you could even call it that). still, what does he think of you, anyway? that is—if he thinks of you.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ To you ♡୨୧★ -> @onlymingyus
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Fine line ♡୨୧★ -> @heartkyeom
synopsis: as a joshua fangirl, getting the chance to interview him as a teenager was an absolute dream. 10 years later with a flourishing career as a writer and a strained relationship with him, he wants to do a 10 year reunion interview about his path to the upcoming Olympics. there’s only one problem: you’re staying at his house and trying not to address your old feelings for him.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Untitled ♡୨୧ -> @gyu-effect
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Paint by numbers ♡୨୧ -> @chocosvt
synopsis: somebody new just moved into the upstairs apartment. they’re loud, irritatingly sweet, and unfortunately, very pretty. but you’re not looking for a new relationship, even if it comes in the form of joshua hong. 
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Golden Hour ♡ -> @dkfile
summer ends in less than a month, leaving you with a limited amount of time to build up the courage to profess your undying love for your best friend before he leaves again for college. alternatively the summer of pining, featuring a group of annoyed bystanders.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Cranberry concoctions ♡୨୧★ -> @onlyhuis
synopsis | you came to the infamous diamond glass looking for a good cocktail. instead, you found love in a hot bartender who also makes the best cosmos you’ve ever had.
[ More joshua recs will be updated ]
Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here
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spiderwcd · 3 months
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Stalked | s.g. 
pairing: Sam Golbach x influencer ! f ! reader 
summary: They knew something was off, but they never imagined it to be this bad.
Warning(s): angst! stalkers, breaking in, fear, profanity, mentions of a weapon
A/N: honestly first time writing angst, so forgive me if it's really bad, ALSO, please read the last note, I need your guys opinion on something.
images from pinterest ! 
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Sam loved y/n, so much so that Sam let her finally move in. Well rather, they made it official. She had practically lived with Sam for a year now, always sleeping over and leaving all her things around his house. 
It was great, she loved waking up to Sam every morning and making him breakfast. She adored how he'd show up for some of her streams and talk to her fans. Sam was the love of her life, there's no doubt behind that. 
But recently something was off. 
It started off with a few overly creepy dm's, saying perverted things to her. She would block them but they seemed to never go away, assuming as they made multiple accounts to send the horrid messages. 
But then she felt like she was being watched, going out in public became sketchy for her. She noticed a hooded man in the coffee shop she frequented or around the corner in the supermarket. 
Then, it was getting really out of hand. She would receive random packages from fans all the time, opening them on her live stream and laughing at gag gifts. But it was odd to receive gifts on her front porch, when she regularly received gifts via a P.O. Box. She had opened one, regretting it to this day. 
In the box were various pictures of her around town, heart shapes surrounding her face. On top was a letter, long story short, she realized it was a stalker. 
Sam and y/n tried to figure out a way to put a restraining order, but couldn't due to the fact that they didn't know this said man's identity. 
Unfortunately, enough was enough. All she could do was go on another live stream tonight, explaining reasons why she wouldn't be streaming anymore. She propped up the camera, Sam in the back for moral support. 
"Are you ready?" She weakly smiled. 
Sam nodded, reaching for her hand as she sat back down as many fans joined in. 
She tried to put on her bubbly personality, attempting to welcome many of the fans. 
"Hey guys," she waved to the camera. "How are you guys?" She asked, placing her other hand on her chin as she looked at the various comments. 
Her fans knew her all too well, quickly recognizing that something was wrong. 
'oh no, y/n you okay? you look sad :(' 
'woah, mom and dad look so serious!? Are we in trouble?!' 
Y/n smiled at the concern, "yeah, guys you have all been bad," she sternly pointed to the camera. "Right sam? We gotta take away their Xboxes." She turned over to Sam, causing him to chuckle. 
"Yeah guys, who shit in the kitty litter? The cat's shit is not that big!" He joked trying to lighten up the mood. 
Y/n smiled, squeezing Sam's hand a little stronger as she looked back at the camera.
"Alright guys, Imma wait a little longer for more people to get in just so they don't miss anything." She announced, continuing to read the comments. 
'mother is mothering' 
'y/n, ask sam when the next video is coming out?!' 
'y/n is so pretty guys :)' 
She turned to Sam, "they're asking about your next video, babe." She pointed out. "I don't know, I've been put under a contract not to discuss any future videos guys." She put her hands up in defeat. 
Sam grinned at her before looking up at the camera, "Well, Colby will kill me for saying anything, but we're working on something to record tomorrow actually." He raised his brows, pursing his lips a bit. 
"You heard it here folks, Sam is not retiring." She joked. 
As they were goofing off and joking around, the viewer count went up to nearly 50k. She was impressed by the amount, amazed by her followers. 
"Wow guys, there's 50 thousand of you here!" She cheered, raising her hands up into the air. "So now that we have a lot of your attention, don't get too distracted by this beautiful face." She pointed towards Sam. 
Sam dramatically covered his face, pretending to be flustered. "Oh, stop it guys!" He responded with a high pitched voice. 
Y/n playfully smacked his thigh as she giggled, "Well, so this is sorta sad news guys," she began, trying not to look at the comments. "But this will be my last stream for a little bit, just there's been stuff that came up and it's no longer safe for me to stream. I would go more in depth but again, for our safety I can't really say why." 
She held back tears as she glanced over to her comments, fans practically panicking. 
'what?! noooo :(' 
'omg what happened?!' 
'nauuur! I look forward to your streams :,('
Y/n gulped, holding back tears as she read the comments. "Yeah guys, it's only temporary," she sighed, Sam holding her hand as he laced his fingers with hers. "But it's just to ensure safety for me and my loved ones, it's only until this problem goes away guys. I just gotta say, I love you guys, you guys give me purpose and I'm so thankful for that, so I hope you guys understand."
She weakly smiled, reading the many comments of support and touched by their kindness. 
"Well with that guys, I'm just gonna end it here," she sighed, leaning towards her computer. "See you guys, hopefully soon." She blew a kiss into the camera before cutting the stream off. 
She let out a sigh as she sat back down in her chair, a creak emitting from it. Y/n looked over to Sam, who offered her a smile as he rubbed his free hand on top of hers. 
"You okay?" he asked her, furrowing his brows as worry coated his voice. 
She nodded weakly, "I will be," she replied. "I just hate to stop streaming, I really want this stupid stalker to like chill the fuck out." She groaned as she rubbed her face. 
"I'm sure it won't be long," Sam tried to comfort her. "I mean he hasn't been around for a while." Sam shrugged. 
Y/n couldn't help but stare off into the ceiling, taking Sam's words sink in, "That's true," she mumbled. "I've had stalkers before, but they were never this bad." She emphasized. 
Sam understood her frustration, he knew streaming was everything to her. She worked hard to please her fans, streaming every other night practically. He loved that about her, how caring she was and worked for her fans even when days weren't as good to her. 
"Well let's get some sleep, okay?" Sam patted her thigh, standing up from his seat. 
Y/n groaned, throwing her head back, "This feels so weird," She grumbled, mimicking Sam's movements and walking towards their bedroom. "Are you still going to that haunted hospital or whatever?" She asked him, removing her sweatpants and sweatshirt. 
"Yeah, but I can always stay here with you if you want," Sam answered, watching her movements. "I can always reschedule it." He offered. 
Y/n threw on one of Sam's t-shirts, jumping into bed next to him, "No, no, I'll be okay," She declined, stabilizing her head onto her hand. "I don't want you to disappoint your fans, plus the cameras you installed really give me a lot more comfort." She smiled, her heart warmed by his gesture. 
"Are you sure? I-I just don't know how I feel about leaving you here all alone." Sam sighed, pulling her close to his chest. 
"Yes, I'm sure sam." She laughed a bit, laying her head onto his chest. She listened to his heart beat against her ear, she breathed in deeply before looking up at sam. "I love you, you know that?" She whispered to him. 
Sam smiled down at her, placing his finger under her chin as he pulled her into a kiss. "I love you more." He whispered back, pecking her on her forehead. 
The next day, she watched as Sam packed various equipment into his bags. But he wouldn't stop pestering her about his offer, her refusing it every time. 
"Okay, baby I will call you when I land, i'll check the cameras often, oh, and update me every like hour," Sam commanded, his suitcase in hand as his backpack strapped to his back. "I don't care if you think it's annoying, I just need to make sure you're okay." 
Y/n laughed at his demands, kissing him on the cheek, "I promise, but youre gonna have to worry about Colby in about two seconds cause it looks like he's gonna drag you away." She joked, pointing at Colby in the car. 
Sam sighed, "He’ll be fine," He rolled his eyes playfully. "Okay, I love you like a million, please be careful, okay? Lock all the doors and keep the windows locked, I'll call Celina or someone to come and keep you company." He suggested, landing a quick peck on her lips. 
"Alright, love you too," She chuckled, embracing him into a long hug. "Okay, okay, now you have a safe trip okay? And make sure Colby brings you back in one piece." She joked. 
She watched as Sam ran towards the car, looking back every few steps as he blew her kisses. She noticed Colby rolling his eyes, impatient as is. 
Y/n sighed as she locked the door, making her way to the living room. She dropped down onto the couch as she exhaled a breath. She looked down on her phone, deciding to check up on her socials. 
She was surprised by the sheer amount of support she received, fans encouraging her. She smiled at the many comments, her smile soon fading away as she looked at the random drama article of hers. 
Streamer Y/N L/N, goes on break cause of STALKER?! 
She rolled her eyes, of course they're trying to profit on her vulnerability. She threw her phone down onto the pillows, standing up onto her feet as she made her way towards the kitchen. She figured she could distract herself and make something to eat. Usually when she was bored she would stream, but for obvious reasons she couldn't cure her boredom at that moment. 
After she had made some dinner, she turned on one of her favorite shows. She decided a few episodes wouldn't hurt to catch up on, resting her head onto a few pillows as stared at the screen. 
A season and a half in, she heard her phone ding. She picked it up, letting the phone turn on and the message displayed on her screen. 
sam: 
just landed! How are things over there?
Y/n started typing out her answer, trying not to make it sound depressing as it felt. 
y/n:
great, i'm just watching some of my shows right now :)
It didn't take long for the phone to ding again, Sam's response delivered onto her phone screen yet again. 
sam:
sounds good
Do you want some company? I could send Jake or even Celina over
y/n:
I think i'll be okay for now
I prolly will be up for a while anyway so i'll let you know
sam:
okay, be safe babe 
I love you 300 million tons baby!!!
Y/n smiled at the text, seeming to miss her boyfriend even more now. 
y/n:
well I love you 300.01 million tons!
She shut off her phone, tossing it back to where it last was. She blankly stared into the TV screen as she tried to focus on the show. Her eyes began to grow heavy, slowly beginning to grow more tired. 
It didn't take long before she found herself sleeping on the couch, the random show adding as a background noise.
She awoke from her sleep, hearing her phone buzzing next to her. She fluttered her eyes, looking outside at the now dark night that had overtaken the evening sun as she slept. 
She groaned as she picked up her phone, Sam's name displaying on her screen with his photo on it. She mentally cursed herself for falling asleep, forgetting to update Sam. Y/n slid the answer button, bringing the phone up to her ear. 
"Hey, sorry I fell asl-." But before she could answer, Sam cut her off with panic in his voice. 
"Babe, Babe?! Are you okay?" Sam frantically asked. "Where are you right now?" He added, panic rising in his voice. 
Y/n furrowed her brows, confused on why he had begun panicking over not updating him on her whereabouts. 
"I'm just home, in the living room right now." She sighed, rubbing her eyes out of her tired state. 
"Okay, okay, please tell me you locked all the doors and windows," Sam sternly replied. 
Y/n stood up, noticing the TV had still been blaring. "Yeah, I locked the front door when you left and the backdoor had been locked, what's going on sam, you're really freaking me out." She grumbled. 
"Y/n, please listen to me very carefully," Sam began, shaking in his voice. She heard him talk to another person in the back, something about a ride to the airport. "Go to our bathroom, and lock the door, please baby." He panted, hearing a car door shut in the background as he began to run. 
Y/n just was more confused, but complied with his instructions. She began walking towards their bedroom, but froze when she heard a sound from downstairs. The sound of glass shattering echoed from the home. 
She sprinted towards the bedroom, locking the door and entering the bathroom connected to it. She swiftly locked the bathroom door, backing away as she tried to cover her heavy breathing. 
She forgot she was on a call with Sam, faintly hearing his loud shouts for her. She brought the phone back to her ear, barely stabilized in her shaking hand. 
"Y/n!? y/n!? What happened?! Y/n, please answer me!" Sam shouted, calling out for her. "Was that glass breaking?!" He called out. 
"Y-Yeah, I just heard someone fucking break a window or something downstairs," Y/n whispered into the phone. "Sam, I-I'm scared." Her voice cracked as tears began to spill onto her cheeks. 
Sam cursed a bit in the background, "Fuck, it’s gonna be okay baby, I promise." His voice shook, distressed as he felt hopeless in this situation. "Colby called the police so they should be over there any moment, just stay there and don't make a sound, okay?" He informed her. 
Before y/n could respond, she heard faint heavy footsteps make their way up towards the stairs. It seemed as if he had stopped at the end of the staircase, in front of the living room.
"Sam, I-I think he's upstairs," Y/n sobbed softly. "I’m so fucking scared, Sam." She whimpered out.
Sam cursed yet again on the other side, clearly frustrated and worried. "It's gonna be okay, Colby's still on the line with the cops, they said 5 more minutes, okay? Just don't say anything, it's g-gonna be okay." She heard Sam's frustrated sniffs as his voice cracked. 
Slowly, the footsteps became louder. They thudded with each step, slowly making their way towards the locked bedroom. Y/n felt hot tears stream down her hot cheeks, her heart pumping as if she ran a marathon. 
But then the footsteps stopped at the door to the bedroom. She listened carefully, her ears perking up to every sound. 5 minutes will feel like eternity. She listened as the door handle started jiggling to their bedroom, with a frustrated man's voice as he kicked the door once, then twice and with a loud crack as it swung and hit the wall.
She let out a scared squeal, Sam still shouting for her on the other side. She didn't dare to move, still intently listening as the man rustled around the room, trying to find something or someone. 
She could practically feel her heart beating out of her chest, feeling nothing but pure fear as the man began stepping closer to the bathroom door. 
Y/n found it odd when the man knocked. She didn't answer, letting yet another tear slip out of her eye. But she found it even more odd that he slipped a piece of paper under the door, seemingly blank. 
Y/n prayed that the police would arrive any moment, rescue her from this nightmare. But mostly wanting Sam to be there for her, to protect her. 
She shut her eyes, bringing the phone to her ear again. Sam kept calling out for her, freaking out. "Sam, If something happens, I-I love y-you okay?" She sniffed softly as she whispered softly into the phone. 
"Y/n, don't say that! You're gonna make it just a little long-" as Sam was about to finish his sentence, the door cracked just like the one in the bedroom. 
She jumped, tears spilling as she let out a sob. Just as quickly as he opened the bedroom door, the door ricocheted against the wall. She felt herself shake like a leaf as her back pressed up against the bathtub, watching intently as everything moved very slowly. 
The background noise of Sam's voice and everything else drowned as she heard her heart beating, eyes glued to the broken door. The man slowly stepped closer inside the bathroom, turning his head very menacingly.
The masked man creeped into the bathroom, the glimmer of a blade in his hand. She let out a sob as she turned her head away, shutting her eyes shut as she prayed it was a nightmare she woke awake from.
She could practically feel his breath on her face, now kneeling in front of her. His hand at first moved to her face, tracing his fingers on her wet skin but then moving his attention to the phone clutched in her hand. He scoffed as he snatched the phone out of her hand, bringing it to his ear. 
"Y/n? Y/n?! answer me, please." Sam begged on the other line. 
"She's unavailable at the moment." The man's deep voice rang out in the bathroom. 
"Dont you dare fucking touch her," Sam spat through the phone, gripping onto his phone with anger. "I swear to God, I will fucking kill you." He growled. 
The man chuckled a bit, amused by his threats, "Well, I don't see you anywhere." He laughed. 
Before Sam could give an answer, the man hung up the phone and set it down onto the counter. He turned back ever so slowly to her, staring down at the floor to avoid eye contact with her stalker. 
He kneeled back down, looking at her as she cried. 
"You're much prettier than I expected," He laughed, running his finger on a strand of her hair. "Don't be scared, only brought this if your little boyfriend would get in the way." He smirked under his mask, tilting the knife. 
As y/n froze up, tensing under his touch, she heard the loud sirens pulling closer to her house. The red and blue lights filling up the room, causing the man to jolt up and look at her one last time. 
"This isn't over." He mumbled, running out of the bathroom. 
With him gone, she let out a sob as it rang throughout her body. She covered her face, trying to calm down and reassure herself it was all over. 
Y/n heard the shouts of a police officer, warning the man to get down. She heard frantic footsteps run down the hall, afraid it was the man again. 
But instead it was a female officer, her gun drawn out and a flashlight shining onto y/n's face. She lowered her weapon, turning to her shoulder as she spoke through the walkie. 
"Are you y/n?" She kneeled down to her level. 
Y/n nodded, "Y-Yes." she let out.
The officer reached for her hand, helping her up. Y/n's legs shook as she stumbled forward slightly, apologizing as she straightened herself up. 
"It's okay, you have no need to apologize." She reassured, beginning to walk her out of the bathroom. 
"T-That paper, he slid it under the door when I was locked in h-here." She pointed with trembling hands. 
The officer nodded, kneeling as she lifted the paper. Y/n couldn't help but peek at the paper, curiosity eating at her. 
From what it looked like, it was a love note as he declared his love for her. The officer's face retorted into a one with disgust, hiding it quickly from y/n. 
"This will be put into evidence, my other officer will take you down to question you," She informed y/n, letting one of the other officers grab her arm and lead her down the hall. 
Y/n's eyes wandered to the broken bits of wood that was flown across the room, their bedroom in complete disarray. She noticed that the same knife he had carried was now lodged into the broken door that hung loosely on the hinges, on the door was a picture of her and sam. Sam's face was scribbled on, with a few profanities scratched around. 
Y/n felt sick to her stomach, unable to hold back tears as she trembled down the hall. The street was filled with cop cars, neighbors coming out to investigate the commotion. She spaced out, deep into thought as the police officer's informed her about the break in. 
Y/n simply nodded, still in shock. Then she noticed a figure run up to her, Sam. She felt tears spilling out again and a wave of relief washed over her as she watched him sprint towards her, hugging her as he panted and sobbed into her hair. 
"Thank fucking god," Sam cried, rubbing her hair as she trembled in his arms. "I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. I should've never left you alone." He cried, stroking her hair as he comforted her. 
She peaked over his shoulder, the flashes of blue and red covered the streets. She watched as the officers handcuffed the now revealed man as his mask had been removed, pushing him into the back of the cop car. Y/n quickly looked away, determined not to be afraid of him any longer. As long as she had Sam, she was safe. 
She didn't say anything, soaking his sweatshirt with her tears. He didn't let go of her, talking to the police as they interrogated him to find the story.
"Hey, can we do this another time?" Sam snapped, holding y/n as she rested her head onto his chest. "I would love to answer your questions, but she's been through a lot and I need her to rest." He sighed, stroking her hair softly. 
The officer understood, handing him a card. They thanked them for their time, getting into the car as they sped away. Y/n sniffled, gripped onto Sam's arms tightly, as if he would leave again. 
"You guys can stay at my place for the meantime," Colby offered. "I know your house is sort of a crime scene right now, and your doors are completely wrecked. I have the space." He added. 
Sam nodded, thanking his best friend. Y/n hasn't said anything to Sam, still traumatized from her experience. She sat silent in the car, holding onto Sam's hand tightly as they drove. Sam couldn’t help but glance at her, guilt building up inside him. 
When they had finally reached Colby's house, Sam followed y/n around. He was so afraid to leave her side again, y/n was comforted by his presence but she knew he had blamed himself for it. 
Y/n laid on the bed, glancing at her phone as she looked at the many articles about her. She frowned at the media article, turning off her phone when she noticed Sam enter the room. Sam jumped into the bed, letting out a deep breath as he stared up for a moment. 
"It's not your fault sam," Y/n began, causing Sam to avert his gaze to her. "If anything, I'm glad you weren't there, you didn't see what I saw." She added, looking over to him. 
"Y/n-" Sam started, but was ultimately cut off by y/n.
"No Sam, don't blame yourself, I told you to go," her voice cracked, fighting back tears that threatened to spill. "He would've hurt you, o-or killed you." She let out a sob. 
Sam didn't say anything, pulling her into his chest as she let out tears. He whispered to her that everything's gonna be okay, kissing her head as he petted her hair.
"T-There wasn't much you could do, Sam," She whispered, sniffing. "He came there to hurt you, you did the right thing to call the cops." She commented, looking up at her boyfriend. 
Sam half smiled down at her, "I know, just I wish I was there to protect you, I'm sorry." He mumbled, sniffing back tears. 
She smiled, placing her palm onto his face. "It's okay Sam, I'm okay," She reassured. "I have you around me to protect me now." She shushed softly. 
Sam nodded, reaching for her hand off his face. "It's all over," He sighed. "That's all that matters, you're safe." 
Sam wrapped his arms around her, her head pressed against his chest as she listened to his heart beat gently against her ear. It didn't take long for her to finally rest, his scent and gentle heartbeat to soothe her to sleep. 
"I'm never leaving you ever again." Sam whispered to her, kissing her head. 
˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖
hey guys, thanks for reading!
so now for my question, I want to know if you guys would like smut from me. I have a few works saved, but I'm so nervous that you guys wouldn't like it so please please PLEASE let me know if its something you'd like :)
thanks for your attention!
468 notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months
Text
t-ball
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words: 1k
warnings: dad!rafe, other moms being haters, mention of plastic surgery
“i want mommy.” poppy says for the tenth time in the past minute, crossing her arms with a pout on her face, contrasting the cuteness of the bright pink jersey and pigtails in her hair.
“i told you, she’ll be here before your next game starts.” rafe says, pulling his daughter onto his lap, adjusting the baseball cap on her head. poppy is 4 years old and just started t-ball, having her first double header this weekend. thankfully, they’re given a enough time in between the games to have some lunch and unwind, not the the games are anything more than most of the other 4-year olds playing in the grass or throwing rocks at each other.
“aww, she misses her mommy?” one of the moms sitting nearby rafe asks, obviously eavesdropping on the conversation.
“yeah.” rafe says, chuckling as poppy buries her face into his chest in shyness. “she had an appointment this morning, but she will be here soon.”
rafe is uncomfortable with the amount of attention the other moms give him. it’s probably because he always takes poppy to practice, leaving you home to cook dinner and give a quick tidy up or relax while he watches her adorable attempts to swing the heavy baseball bat high enough to hit the ball. he loves being involved in his daughter's life, making a real effort to parent and do as much for her as you do, and one of his responsibilities is taking her to t-ball practice, just like how you always bathe her, or he always makes her breakfast in the mornings.
“will this be her first game of the season?”
rafe is confused by the question, considering it’s only the third weekend of games, and he’s never seen a couple of the girl’s dads, so why is this lady trying to call you out?
“it will.” he says curtly. 
“mommy isn’t around much, huh?” the mom still pries, this time directing her question to poppy.
poppy sniffles, trying to hold back her cries for a moment, before letting them out, “leave me alone, i want my mommy!” 
“i know, poppy.” rafe says, shushing her, giving the mom a stern glare. “poppy’s mom, and my wife, is a wonderful mother who is very much invested in her daughter’s life. she is just also a busy woman, who runs her own business. just because i bring poppy to practice and games, doesn’t give you any right to speculate. i haven’t seen your husband at all. is he not around much?”
the woman frowns and finally turns away, which does make poppy stop crying, but doesn’t cheer her up enough to do anything but stay leaned against rafe in his lawn chair, looking sad.
“you better not be pouting over me, little miss.”
poppy instantly perks up at your voice. “mommy, mommy, mommy!” she launches herself at you, and you catch her in a hug.
“hi baby.” you hold her close, letting her bury her head into your neck.
“hello, beautiful.” rafe says as you lean down to give him a kiss. he deepens it with a hand on the back of your neck, hoping that all those other women trying (and failing embarrassingly) to flirt with him when he’s alone with poppy realize how head over heels he is in love with you.
“how was your first game?” you ask poppy, sliding onto rafe’s lap, ignoring the empty lawn chair next to him. you thank yourself in that moment for buying the heavier duty expensive chairs, as you’re not concerned about them taking the weight of all three of you at all.
“good! i hit the ball three times!” poppy holds up three fingers, looking proud. “and i even got one girl out on first base!”
“no way!” you say, giving poppy a kiss, having missed your daughter desperately, but you have exciting news that means you’re gonna be taking some time off work soon. you run a small chain of local boutiques, and have finally built up a good staff that means you can trust them while you take some time away.
“it’s almost time for your next game, poppy.” rafe says, noticing the coach starting to get ready. 
“okay, daddy!” poppy hops up off your lap, grabbing her comically big baseball bag and heading off with a wave to the dugout. 
“i’m so glad i could make it.” you say, running your hand through rafe’s hair and giving him another kiss as you watch poppy take the field for warmups.
“me too. she’s so excited for you to watch. doesn’t even care about her dad.” he squeezes your side to show that he was joking. “how was your appointment?”
you’re about to answer when you hear a scoff. you look up, unbeknownst to you it’s the close friend of the woman flirting with rafe earlier. “is there a problem?” you were never one to back down from confrontation.
“appointment? what was this one for? getting your butt done just like your boobs?”
your mouth drops open in shock. you’ve never gotten any cosmetic surgery, but even if you had, it is not this womans business who you’ve never even seen before to comment on it.
“you know, i’m glad you think my natural boobs are so good that they’re fake. it’s a real compliment to me.”
“that’s not-” the woman goes to reply, but you cut her off.
“i bet you’re one of those weird moms who my husband has told me has been attempting to flirt with him. i’ll let you know to back off right now because the appointment i went to was a pregnancy check up. he’s very happy with me. he’s not interested in you.”
rafe doesn’t even bother to hold back his laugh as she gets up and storms off, taking her chair with her to sit further down the field.
“she’s got a shit view now.” you laugh, turning your attention back to poppy, completely unbothered by the interaction.
“i love you.” rafe says.
“oh, i know.” you smile.
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takenbypeter · 2 months
Note
Can I make a request for Willy Wonka I know in the movie he can't read and the situation could be where reader has a letter from a family member and is busy and asks Willy to read it out to her but he embarrassingly admits he can't read and reader is understanding and comforts him plz
Letters From A to Z
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Willy Wonka x reader
Words: 960
I feel like you wanted more angst and this wasn’t really angsty 🫣 I hope you still enjoy reading it!
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Oh how the months fly.
One moment you’re with your mother, living your regular routine day to day life as the weeks pass you by. And the next you’re living independently, making something of yourself in a unique and lovely town.
Along with this new environment came a new job of course, new friends, and an unexpected new beau.
But after some time spent away from your origins you have to admit you were growing slightly homesick. Which is why you’ve decided to write your mother.
You wrote a quick note, telling her about the good and bad parts of your current job along with Willy Wonka, your sudden suitor.
Two weeks went by and although initially eager to get a response, your mind completely forgot about the letter once you returned to your weekly dues.
That was until one day, when Willy stopped by after retrieving your mail for you.
Hands currently occupied with a frying pan, you instructed him to place the letters on the counter.
But as Willy did so, he noticed an envelope that looked different than the rest.
Its font was not as professionally done and it was a beautiful pastel color. “What about this one?” He asked, picking it up.
Instantly recognizing the color your face lit up. “That’s from my mother! Open it, open it,” you ushered.
“Your mother?”
“Yes, I sent her a letter earlier this month, you know about how things are going, about you…”
The chocolatier raised a brow at this, prompting you to add, “all good things, I promise. But go on,” you repeated.
He looked quizzically at the envelope then back at you, “I don’t know it seems very personal to do that.”
“Are you kidding? I want you to read it, go on now.”
You waited patiently, eyes glued to your food while you heard him breathe out a quiet, “…alright.”
You hear the crinkle of the envelope as he breaks it open with his finger.
He holds out a, “hmm,” for an unusual amount of time causing you to turn to him. His eyes were squinted and his eyebrows were forced down with the crease in the center deepening as he held the paper in both of his hands.
You mirrored his expression confused by what was going on?
Does it say something weird? Is it bad news?
“What? What is it?” You ask, growing anxious by the moment. Finally he closes the letter, placing it back on the counter.
“There’s something I should probably tell you. Or maybe something I should’ve told you about before. Well frankly it’s not that important,” he brushed off, “although others tell me otherwise,” he runs on, beginning to converse with himself near the end.
“Willy,” you turn the stove handle on low for a moment, leaving your food and focusing your attention and your body on the boy, now concerned, “what’s going on?”
You watched him press his lips together with an embarrassed smile creeping onto his face. This was unlike him, he rarely gets bashful at least not in front of you.
But then he spat it out, “Actually I…don’t know how to read.”
Your eyebrow muscles pull down while your nose scrunches, “you don’t know how to read?”
“No…” you looked at him waiting for him to explain more and he seemed to understand your lack of words, “I devoted all of my education to chocolate.”
“But reading is sort of important.”
“I’m beginning to notice that around here, yes.”
You stand, face still expressing shock, and you can tell he’s ready to move further. “I don’t know how to read, okay.”
You suck in a breath before releasing it realizing that maybe your reaction was not the most rational.
“I’m sorry Willy. I’ll admit that wasn’t the best response, I was just surprised that’s all.”
You two mull in silence for a moment as you try to formulate your next thoughts but he seems to have thoughts of his own.
“Does it feel strange for you to be with a man who can’t read?”
You shake your head in a second, “of course not! It doesn’t feel strange at all. Although it can be rare, there are some people, even older, who never learned how to read. I’m actually impressed by how much success you’ve gained without the skill.”
Willy’s ears perked up as you expressed admiration.
But still you knew how important the skill was around here.
“It’s fine if the answer is no, but I’m curious, have you ever considered learning?”
“Initially no,” he explains, “but as I found out how unusual it is, I’m starting to believe that I should.”
“Hm. Well If you truly wanted to learn, I could always teach you.”
Finishing your meal up, you split it, placing it on two plates nearby before bringing it over to him and setting one plate in front of him then placing the other in your spot.
One side of his lip tugged slightly, “wouldn’t that be odd?”
“Odd? Maybe. But I think it could be fun!”
He grins at your optimism that he usually displayed. “I guess, we could give it a go.”
You clasp your hands together in contentment. “Terrific! We can start tomorrow,” you beam at him and his expression finally mirrors your enthusiasm before it turns to remembering.
“Oh here,” he hands you the letter that started this whole discussion, “read it.”
You take the letter and instead of reading it you position yourself beside him, “here how about I read it and you follow along with where my finger is so you can see where I’m reading.”
He nods l in agreement while you begin and he follows along as you delve into the writings from your mother.
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justauthoring · 4 months
Text
what now?
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sometimes, you just needed to be reminded of why.
a/n: my baby ;( i love him so much so i felt it was only right i wrote for postwar!levi BE AWARE of spoilers :)
pairing: postwar!levi ackerman x f!reader
Sometimes, it still felt like you were at war.
Fighting, putting your life at risk–all for the sake of humanity.
You’d fought for so long, for as long as you can remember, that this peace and serenity was foreign, unknown and far more scary than fighting ever had been. You still weren’t sure what was expected of you, how you were supposed to just… settle down and live your life. An ironic circumstance given that you remember the amount of times you’d thought and hoped and prayed to yourself that one day soon you’d be able to stop fighting, that you’d be able to settle down and live a peaceful life somewhere.
And now that you had it? You didn’t know what to do with it.
“Do you ever miss it?”
The question is whispered through the silence of the night, a time where you were meant to be asleep and Levi, next to you, should be as well. But you knew without having to look that he was awake–he always was.
The question hangs in the silence for a moment longer before you hear Levi shift next to you, sheets ruffling beneath him as he turns his head to face you. With your back pressed against the bed, you let your head fall to the right, meeting his eyes.
He’s frowning.
But yet, he nods; “yes.”
You let out a sigh; “we spent so long wishing for peace, though.”
“Too long.”
Biting your lip, you turn your whole body to face Levi, leaning in so that you’re only inches away from him. You can feel his breath on your face, your noses are practically touching but you’ve long since grown out of feeling uncomfortable being so close to your Captain. In fact, you spent most of your time glued to his side now as did he with you–you found solace in his familiarity, in the warmth you felt near him and the love you felt for him.
You also found comfort in the fact that you knew exactly how you felt.
“You think that’s why?”
Levi doesn’t reply, not right away. His face twists, as if thinking, lips pursed and brows furrowed before his eyes fall back on you, concern clear in his gaze. “Do you remember that night?” He says instead, electing to ignore your question in favour of asking his own. And your brows furrow for a second in response, before the realization sinks in because of course you remember the night he’s speaking of.
-
You can feel his hand splayed against your back, at the base of your spin, holding you close as the both of you breath heavily, chests rising and falling with exhaustion. Your skin is sweaty and warm, sticking to his own which is similarly clammy, chest pressed against the side of his, head tilted so you can stare up at him through your lashes, catching the underside of his jaw with the way his head is tilted upward, staring at the ceiling of his room.
You’re still foggy in the mind, the actions of being that intimately close with Levi had been something you’d once dreamed about on your own and never thought would ever come true. Because who would’ve ever thought your Captain, Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, would return the affections of his cadet? Placed on his team all those years ago and the sole survivor of what had been the massacre of the rest of your team from the Female Titan, promoted to Vice Captain once the protection of Eren Jaeger was assigned to him; you were the one constant Levi had yet to lose.
You’d admired him as a cadet, placed on his team with naive bliss, and had grown to love him as you worked under him, trained under him and fought alongside him. 
It seemed his own affections for you had grown just the same, all leading to this night.
“Quit staring.”
You smile lightly, eyes blinking lazily as you rest your chin on top of your hands, but still, of course, keeping your eyes trained on him.
A moment later, Levi’s head tilts slightly and his eyes meet yours. He scoffs; “brat.”
“Can’t help it,” you laugh lightly, “you’re beautiful.”
His brows furrow and he looks annoyed but you see the way his cheeks warm, the compliment shocking him as his fingers twitch on your back and his grip tightens ever so slightly.
“Yeah, yeah,” and then, in not-typical-Levi-fashion, he smirks down at you; “but not as beautiful as you.”
And you’re still so unused to–the vulnerability and the teasing and the way Levi seems completely relaxed. He’s long since learned to trust you and you’ve known that for a while, but around others, Levi is constantly guarded; body tense and eyes peel for anything that might happen. In this moment right now, though, his shoulders are sagged with relaxation and he’s actually smiling at you (albeit a smirk, but still) and you relish in the fact that he knows he can be wholly himself with you.
Even if your cheeks burn red at the tease, feeling yourself grow embarrassed as you press your palms to your cheeks and attempt to pull away.
“Shut up.”
Levi doesn’t let you. He shifts, moving to sit up and pulls you with him, grip never relenting, until he’s propped against the back of the headboard and you’re pulled onto his lap, his bed sheets slipping down your back and leaving you bare on top. You barely notice, hands splayed against his bare chest as you stare back at him, lips parting.
“It’s true,” he whispers, letting his hand drift across your cheek faintly, touch light and feathery. “You’re beautiful. I’ve always thought that.”
Heart swarming, you’re speechless; “Levi…”
He settles his hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing soft circles into the skin of your stomach as he leans into you, pressing his forehead against your chest. 
“One day,” he whispers, “one day I’ll make a world where you’ll never have to fight again.”
Eyes widening, you stare down at the top of his head. His voice is so quiet that if it wasn’t completely silent otherwise you probably wouldn’t have heard it but of course, you do, and of course you find yourself stunned by the affection bleeding in his voice. Stunned by his promise.
“Where you can be safe.”
Letting your head fall on his own, you let your eyes shut, wrapping your arms around him.
“Only if you’re with me.”
-
“Yes,” you whisper, “of course.”
Levi reaches out, his hand falling on your cheek–the hand that he’d lost his index and middle fingers to, and you frown at the sight. The scars Levi had retained in the final battle could never and would never change the way you felt about it, but it broke your heart nonetheless; seeing such a strong man battered by the strains of war. You knew it hurt him, knew it made him feel self-conscious, and you tried in whatever ways you could to soothe any of those insecurities.
You never knew if it was enough.
“I did it,” he mumbles back, pulling you from your thoughts. “And I know it’s hard. But I want you to be happy.”
Setting your hand over his own, you shake your head; “I want us to be happy.”
“I am,” he says with ease, “if I’m with you.”
Meeting his gaze, your lips part but there isn’t an ounce of doubt in Levi’s eyes as he stares back at you. Despite everything, despite the fight you see him endure everyday, forced to be restricted to the movements of a wheelchair, faced with his injuries everyday, never able to reach what he once was–there is only certainty as Levi stares back at you. He truly means the words he says with every ounce of his soul.
“As long as I have you, I have everything I could ever want.”
It still stuns you that such a man could love you so much. Love you with his whole being. He showers you in affection everyday, in his own way, in a way you’d never trade for anything. He makes you feel cherished and loved and adored and cared for and despite the pain in your heart and the uncertainty of what you’re meant to do–everything feels even just a little better with Levi there.
“I know,” you nod, “I feel the same.”
“It’ll get better,” he says, pressing his forehead against your own. “I don’t know when but I know it will.”
You squeeze his hand, letting your eyes fall shut.
“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips, “thank you.”
And he just presses his lips against yours in response. Levi is a man of action and he’s already said enough–anything else is clear at the feeling of his lips against your own, reminding you of why you fought, of who you fought for and what you wanted as a result.
To be with Levi.
622 notes · View notes
wutheringcaterpillar · 3 months
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To Have and To Hold
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Requested by @furrypaintermiracle
warnings: noncon, dark!cillian, financial/emotional abuse, grooming kind of (reader is inexperienced and 20, Cillian is 47), gaslighting, forced pregnancy, somewhat slow build, Cillian is single with no kids
Summary: Cillian catches the eye of a woman that seems to be much younger than him and he is determined to build the perfect love story even if that means isolating you from your family and friends and convincing you he is the perfect man.
Author’s note: I’d like to reiterate everyone is of age, there is no pedophilia and I don’t condone writing it. Nor is this story in association with Cillian’s real life.
To Have and To Hold 
It was a cold wintery night in the small town you lived in, people were roaming the streets holding their hot chocolates and coffees, some wrapped around with their lovers, some with friends. It seemed like the only time family could potentially come together. 
“Y/N look!” You friend Makayla pointed up at the shooting star in the sky.
“Make a wish!” You closed your eyes gently, yet playfully as you inhaled and exhaled as if that would make the wish become any more true.
You excused yourself to the near coffee booth that caught your eye and senses, not being able to resist the sweet smell of caramel any longer.
Snow began to fall delicately from the soft, hazy clouds on top of your hat, intertwining with strands of your hair. 
Once you exchanged the money, the kind lady whom was very soft spoken handed you your coffee, insisting that she’d hope you’d have a great night. 
You thanked her kindly before turning and bumping into a stranger, knocking some napkins out of his hand.
“Oh, so sorry! Always seem to be a cluts around this time of year, I like to blame it on the ice.” You laughed nervously, sliding a strand of hair behind your ear while your cheeks heated red from embarrassment.
“Oh don’t be concerned, we all have accidents here and there, nothing to keep you awake at night I hope.” The man spoke rather calmly, his voice deep with a hint of sincerity.
His hand reached out, insisting on helping you up from your state.
“Oh, thank you.” You smiled softly, but once you looked up to see this mysterious man, his baby blue eyes drew you in, and the way his lips looked plush, and inviting as they formed a warm smile. 
It was very apparent this man was older than you by the small yet visible age lines, and the way he spoke in a decent, charming manner.
He too couldn’t help but notice your kindness and how soft your voice sounded, almost angelic to his ears.
You hummed awkwardly, breaking your eye contact and looking around, spotting your friends sitting at a bench staring and giggling at the scene unfolding before them.
“I’m Cillian.” His voice had you spinning back around to him instantly. His hand was held out in a welcoming matter, to which you obliged.
“Y/N, my name’s Y/N.” 
“Well Y/N, what are you doing saturday night? If you don’t mind me asking that is?” You couldn’t stop yourself from blushing, all words seeming to run from your mind at the realization, the possibility this older, yet attractive man could be asking you on a date.
“Ugh, n-nothing. Why do you ask?” 
“I’d like to take you on a date, well multiple dates. Can’t have a beautiful girl like you get lost in the water now can I?” It didn’t take you long to respond with an answer.
“Yes! I mean um- sure.” You were so bad at this, not having much experience. He handed you his phone and you typed your number in creating a new contact. You couldn’t help but notice the amount of contacts with womens names but you brushed it aside. He was older so clearly he knew more people than you.
“5 o’clock work? At the chaplin park?” You nodded with a contained excitement.
“I will see you then, after all your friends can’t stop staring at us. I have an idea.” Before you could ask what, his arm slid behind your shoulders respectfully, as he walked you back to your friends across the street.
The faces they were making were priceless, mouths open in astonishment.
“Hello, sorry for keeping Y/N from you. I couldn’t help but take an interest in your fascinating friend and I couldn’t have her crossing the street alone, you never know what type of men are out on the streets. Enjoy the rest of your night, I will see you saturday.” He placed a gentle kiss on the top of your hand that almost had your eyes fluttering to the back of your head.
His lips felt warm, and soft when they touched you skin just how you imagined.
Butterflies formed in your stomach as the man abid you a do, fading in the distance of the crowd of people.
You were in disbelief that such a handsome, well dressed man asked you out on a date, the very first. 
You and your friends stayed chatting the rest of the night wanting the full details and you attempted to explain in a collected way but you had your moments of excitement.
~
When saturday rolled around, your stomach felt like it was in knots, your nerves building more and more until you pulled into the park.
You were about to text him what kind of car he was driving and to your surprise you glanced up and noticed him stepping out of a car that was clearly brand new, as it shined with luxurious features.
Your jaw wanted to drop but instead you checked yourself once more in the mirror, still not being able to see what he could possibly want with a lower class woman like yourself.
The wind blew threw his hair as he walked toward your car, his hair flowing ever so slightly from the small breeze, the sun shining straight into his crystal blue eyes, it was like a scene out of a movie.
Internally you felt like you were going to combust inside when he reached your door opening it for you.
“Hi, how’ve you been?” He asked as if you hadn’t been texting constantly leading up to this very moment.
He extended his hand like the first day he met you, assisting you out of your old piece of junk car, to which he seemed not to care or notice.
“I’ve been good, dealing with school and bills, y’know?” You laughed anxiously, and concern seemed to etch it’s way through his face slightly. Not from how you were acting but the possibility of your financial woes being terrible. It wasn’t safe.
“So how old are you? I know you must be over eighteen if you’re in college.” You nodded as the two of you began walking toward a trail.
“Oh I’ve just turned twenty about a month ago, you?” Cillian couldn’t stop himself from whole heartedly laughing, holding his stomach.
“My dear I’m forty-seven, nonetheless that doesn’t change my interest in you. Tell me about yourself, please.” 
“Well I’ve just begun college, I’m very close with my family and I know you may not believe it but I’ve never had a boyfriend, yet alone been asked out.” Cillian stopped you mid stride, acting like he was in disbelief when in reality he could tell from the awkwardness, and the way you seemed embarrassed to be yourself, that’s where he had an advantage. He wasn’t attracted to you solely based off looks, it was your mannerisms the way you still seemed so new to adulthood he’d be your first relationship and he was getting to that age where he was looking to settle down.
“If I may, those bloats who didn’t ask you on a date are quite idiotic but I suppose that’s a grand thing or else I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to meet such a smart, young woman.” He knew how to charm, smirking to himself when he watched your rosy cheeks blush.
The two of you walked, chatting about where you were from, your family life, difference in childhoods and upbringing, hobbies. All of the starter conversations to get to know somebody. 
Much to your surprise he lived in Dublin and he was in the states because of work which you hadn’t asked about quite yet, but it obviously paid him well.
The thought that he could be gone tomorrow though worried you, were you already going to experience heartbreak so soon? Why did he ask you on a date, and hint at multiple dates.
You stopped near a fenced off area right above a cliff, the two of you alone together taking in the scenery, listening to the humming of birds and the wind. 
Beyond the cliff displayed a different part of the forest, a pond in the center of it fulfilled with ducks swimming peacefully whilst deer lay contently a few meters away from the pond. The clear blue sky and the sun shining down on the animals painted a beautiful picture that took your breath away, and brought you both a sense of peace as you enjoyed a moment of silence
His hand brushed against your arm, causing you to turn to him in your giddy state.
His arms opened unexpectedly and awaited for the motion to be corespondent.
When you had leaned into his touch he was warm, smelling of ivory and teakwood as he held you innocently from behind, warming your body with that butterfly feeling, the knots slowly dissipating.
His arms curled around your stomach contently and for some reason it almost felt right.
After the few moments of silence you broke away, ready to walk again.
“Well what about you? What do you do for a living?” You began walking once more through the dirt trail inbetween the trees.
He inhaled deeply feeling refreshed that a woman he was interested in knew nothing of his existence.
“I know you may not believe it and I urge you not to run to the internet and research but I’m an actor. I make decent money and I enjoy my job very much just not the public part.” Your eyebrows furrowed together in disbelief but your parents always raised you not to judge a book by it’s cover, not to make assumptions and really get to know a person first.
“Do you have to travel a lot?” 
“I do but I’ve really been wanting to settle down and here you are. You really caught my eye Y/N. The first glance I was at a loss for words and had to grow the strength in me to ask you on a date. I hope my career doesn’t steer you away, I may travel but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t bring you. Of course there would be circumstances where I can’t.” Sure, you completely understood that. A part of you couldn’t help but want to be indulged in his world, and have a partner to travel the world with.
“Well, I have always wanted to see the world, and I really want to say I wouldn’t rush to the internet. That wouldn’t be me getting to know you it would be others telling me what they think about a person they’ve never met.” He nodded gracefully, his dimples appearing softly on his delicate cheeks as a small smile crept onto his face.
The rest of the walk the minutes turned into hours where you both discussed insecurities, fears, hopes and dreams and the conversation seemed to lead itself which was a good sign to you that made you feel hopeful that maybe this would go somewhere as did he.
~
The next few months you had found yourself living with Cillian in his house in Dublin that probably was worth more than your college tuition combined with everything you’ve ever owned in life.
Maybe you should’ve put more thought into it before making such a drastic life decision but any reason you came up with not to move out of the country Cillian seemed to have a better response and solution to your worries, giving you no reason to decline.
The first month he bought you a car, and insisted on paying for your insurance and college tuition. He was patient, driving you around town and the outstanding areas to help you get to know the area. As much as you tried to decline his financial help he wouldn’t take no for an answer. You were beyond grateful and he held up to his word that he would take you traveling when he could.
The biggest problem you seemed to face together so far was your parents, who did not approve of this relationship whatsoever.
Your mom was overly concerned you were falling for Cillian too quickly, and made comments here and there about how a man in his line of work wanted one thing and that was a playmate for when they were bored.
Your father hadn’t liked him for some of the same reasons and he pointed out your finances worried him. Allowing Cillian to take over your bills, and transfer them to his name was beyond stupid he thought because what if you guys got into a disagreement? What if he decided to stop paying them. He also did not want his celebrity status to change your thoughts or the way you acted, he didn’t want you to feel like you had to pretend to be somebody you weren’t.
The only one thing that your parents seemed to agree with was when they met Cillian he was very polite, didn’t disclose any form of pda. He even shook your father’s hand, and went on calling them both maam and sir and offered to pay the bill for dinner but when they declined he didn’t push any further as he didn’t want to offend them.
It was a small stepping stone that you’d cross and bare through together.
His parents were actually quite lovely, and adored you and your American accent.
They wanted to know all about you, and kept asking Cillian where he had been hiding you. To them age was just a number and love was love, you couldn’t put a price on that.
The days he was away filming he would facetime you at the end of the day, answering any questions or concerns you might have and offer any help he could to ensure your safety, happiness, and peace.
He even helped you in school where he could, he was quite intelligent.
He truly was the man of your dreams and would surprise you when he’s away with lavish gifts and respected your wishes to wait until marriage to have sex.
He never brought it up after that, and as far as your worries about the women in his contacts he had introduced you to each and every one as they were all either family members or directors and producers, some co-stars that he worked with and nothing seemed inappropriate or bothered you.
It was almost like you were living in a fairytale.
~
It had only been three months into the relationship when Cillian decided to take the next step and now here he was at dinner with you and your family once more, awaiting for the right moment to talk to your parents privately.
When he was filming in Birmingham, he had took the time to look for a ring, a twenty four karat ring at that, it was silver and had an almost blush pink diamond heart in the center of it. How much he’d spent he’d keep to himself.
When you excused yourself to the restroom Cillian took this as the opportunity to do so.
“I um- I have a topic of conversation I’ve been wanting to discuss with the both of you and I think now would be a great time.” Your mother cut into her steak, prodding him to go on while your dad was pouring himself a glass of wine and raised his eyebrows.
“I want to ask Y/N to marry me, with your blessing of course.” Your mother nearly choked on her food and your father set the bottle down rather aggressively before answering almost instantly.
“No. You absolutely do not have our blessing.” Cillian’s tongue roamed to the side of his cheek as he looked between the both of them slightly irritated but hiding it.
“I don’t understand you won’t allow me to take your daughter’s hand in marriage. Why is that? If you don’t mind me asking?” Cillian was at a crossroads, his thumb dragging across his bottom lip in confusion of where he could have possibly went wrong that your parents would not like him.
“You’re nearly thirty years older than my daughter. This is just a phase, she has a career, a whole life to live and you think I’m going to allow her to throw it away for some actor who moved her across the world?” Ah, so that’s what this was, it had nothing to do with how well he treated you, but it had to do with the components that shouldn’t matter. 
“Sir, with all do respect. I’m paying for her college tuition now. Am I not?” Your father went silent, taking a sip from his glass of wine while your mother was holding her tongue.
“I have a roof over her head, I bought her a reliable, safe car and I love her very much. She’s an adult she could have said no to moving in with me. Our age and my career should have nothing to do with the fact that I’m in love with your daughter and she’s in love with me much to your dismay.” Your father went to speak but stopped when they heard the bathroom door open.
When you approached the table it was clear something was said, and you assumed it to be your dad. “Is everything alright?” You took your seat next to Cillian once more and he settled his hand on top of yours in front of your parents tracing your fingers delicately.
“Everything’s great love, your father was just saying how proud of you he is. You know going to school, focusing on your career, finding a man who cares and supports you.”
The night went on swimmingly to your knowledge and you finally felt as if there was some peace between your relationship and family. All you’d ever wanted was for your parents to be proud of you and see you for your accomplishments. Though there may had been a rough patch once Cillian came into the picture it seemed like the pieces were finally starting to come together as a whole.
~
Becoming more impatient by the minute with your parents, as much as he wanted their approval he’d realized he wasn’t going to obtain it anytime in the near future. So he took matters into his own hands.
“You all packed love?” You nodded excitedly, rushing over to him, pulling him into a death grip of a hug, trying your best not to break him.
“I can’t believe we’re going to Bali, I’ve been wanting to go my whole life! And now I can go with a person I love very much. I just feel bad I couldn’t really pitch in with the funds.” You mumbled against his chest those last few words.
Cillian rolled his eyes, gently tearing you off of him forcing you to lock eyes with him.
“Darling, I love you. I want you to focus on your school so you can get the degree in the field you love. I have more than enough money for the both of us so please, let me spoil my princess as I adore to.” You leaned up kissing him softly on the lips in a deep passionate kiss, but pulled away as your standards for yourself still remained, not until marriage.
“Now let’s go before we miss our private flight.” You followed his lead and he insisted on carrying your suitcases.
The flight was rather long and Cillian couldn’t help but notice the position you had fallen asleep in on the love seat. 
Your legs were spread open, breasts flowing freely almost slipping from your tanktop. He didn’t know how much longer he’d last not having sex.
He need to have sex, he needed to be inside you. He groaned and readjusted himself when you shifted in your sleep, worried that you’d wake up and see his hardened member forming a wet spot on his pants.
The perks of being a celebrity was he could get anyone he wanted, and though he liked the hard to get act, it was getting old for him.
The sun was setting when you finally arrived, Cillian waking you up sweetly with a kiss to your temple.
After he gave you a moment to wake up he guided you to your destination.
Unlocking the door, if eyes could drool yours would be at this very moment.
There was a skylight in the ceiling, a coy pond directly in the center of your private living space, the water reflecting off the moonlight that was making it’s way in.
The sounds of nature was all you could hear, there was no television or phones, just you and Cillian in a complete, fairytale like oasis. 
The house he had rented was say directly at the top of a hill, with a view of the ocean, the sounds of the waves suddenly making you feel tired once more.
“Oh my gosh, this is lovely! This is beautiful Cilly!” As long as you were happy that was all that matters, that was all he needed for his proposal to work in his favor.
~
The following morning you had awoke to smell of bacon and eggs, the fresh summer breeze blowing in gently through the opened doorway.
When you walked toward the smell that lead you to the kitchen, was dressed with an almost too elegant tablecloth. All of your favorite fruits and foods on display while he was finishing the rest of breakfast. “Good morning sweetheart, I hope the mimosas are to your liking.” You tiptoed toward him, wrapping your arms around his torso from behind, placing a sweet chaste kiss on his warm neck.
“How did I get so lucky?”
“Come.” He walked you out toward the balcony and you found yourself unable to stop smiling, one thing Cillian was very good at was surprises, he had never gotten you something you hadn’t loved or talked about.
“Don’t open them yet.” He released you, watching your shielded eyes carefully, making sure you don’t sneak a peak.
Checking his attire, he patted down his shirt before getting down on one knee, retrieving the expensive ring from within his pocket.
He took a deep breath, putting on his charm as he decided in his head on what act would be best to get you to say yes, though he really believed there was no chance of you turning him down in the little amount of time it took for him to have you wrapped around his finger.
“Open your eyes love.” 
You gasped in surprise, your hand coming up to cover your lips in disbelief as your eyes glistened in the sunshine, purely lovestruck.
“Y/N L/N, would you do me the honour of taking my last name and becoming my beautiful, beloved wife?” Tears of happiness crept through your eyes, spilling down your cheeks as you stared into his ocean eyes, glancing back down at the silver, magnanimous diamond ring.
“Yes! Yes a million times yes!” He smiled widely as his arm moved, his fingers curling around the ring carefully taking the expensive ring out of it’s snug place in the box before placing it delicately onto your finger.
His hands lay gently on your hips as he stood up, caressing your tear stained cheeks
~
Your parents never responded to the wedding invitation and Cillian could tell it was breaking your heart. Scooping you up from where you sat on the sofa, he pulled you into his loving arms, caressing your back gently as you cried into his shoulder.
“Darling, they’ll come around. They will.” In his mind, he didn’t understand how your parents could be so cruel, and block your number, not even willing to support you on one of the biggest moments in your life, the number one thing most women looked forward to and he was going to use that to his advantage.
Your tears began to form a small puddle in the crook of his neck, dampening the shirt he was wearing but he didn’t mind.
“Hey.” He spoke with sincerity, pushing you softly away from him so you were still sitting on his lap, but facing him.
“Oh, my love.” His eyebrows furrowed together with a pained expression as his thumb glided over you teary cheeks once he saw your face.
“Don’t let them ruin this okay? They will realize how much they’re hurting you, we just have to be patient, alright?” You nodded, attempting to stop from crying.
He watched you with endearing eyes, hands still placed on your cheeks.
Your chest was beginning to fall back to a normal pace as his touch and loving words were beginning to calm you down immensely.
“And if they don’t come around, well fuck them. If they don’t want you to be happy and can’t put our differences aside, maybe it’d be better off to not have them in your life sweetheart. You’ll always have my parents who love you very much.” Maybe he was right, maybe you did have terrible parents. How could a father not want to walk his daughter down the aisle on the most important day of her life and how could your mother not be excited for you, surely she was excited and had help and support when she married your father.
Regardless you knew Cillian’s parents would always be there and maybe this was for the best.
~
Within the following weeks Cillian hired an assistant to help you plan out the wedding that was set for June so everything would be to your standards.
He needed you to have the perfect day, for everything to be exactly how you visioned.
Walking in the door he noticed you were seated comfortably at the kitchen island, three boards layed out in front of you with different color schemes and a notebook.
“I’m home love.” He approached you from behind, smelling of mint and cashmere as he settled a kiss on top of your head.
“How is the wedding planning going?” Cillian himself couldn’t deny your creativity, all three boards looked amazing and it wasn’t difficult to see the amount of time you spent on them.
“Well, everything is about settled, I can’t believe how fast we planned all of this, it almost seemed to easy but maybe it’s just because I know what I want and love, just like how I feel for you.” He hummed adoringly against your head.
“Well if you’re struggling I like the third one, seems more subtle.” Even though you were leaning more toward the second you followed his word. Aside from the fact he was older he probably knew more about planning and such big events more than you did.
~
When June rolled around, you stared in the mirror, waiting for your cue to walk down the aisle.
Nerves were getting the best of you and your emotions seemed to be scattered. It was hard to imagine you were about to marry the love of your life and no one you knew other than Cillian’s family and friends were attending.
Yes, they loved you deeply but a part of you still had wished your family at least would have set their differences aside to be here for you on your big day.
Instead they’d be sitting at home probably renovating your room, or out with friends anything to take their mind off of their disappointment of a daughter.
“Y/N, they’re ready.” 
When you walked out, the sight of Cillian stood at the altar nearly took your breath away as he stood, watching you in awe but kept his emotions in tact.
His hands stayed folded in front of him while a soft smile spread across his lips.
Your bridesmaids ended up being a few of his cousins who also didn’t know you very well but they had been very supportive and you couldn’t have been more grateful.
~
Every morning since you stared at your ring in awe but it seemed like Cillian had become distant. It had now been a month since you were married and anytime you brought it up to him it was dismissed that you were overthinking.
What had you done wrong? Why wasn’t he as loving anymore? Was it something you said? Were you too immature? 
It was all to much and was tiring you out having this constant anxiety around him, thinking you’d done something terrible or he was going to ask for a divorce.
He went as far too sleep in the spare room now, every once in awhile asking for sex but you still hadn’t felt comfortable just yet and that annoyed Cillian very much. How was he supposed to get off, expect to be loyal to you when you won’t make love with him. That was his problem he wasn’t patient anymore and always seems to be in a bad mood, especially when you wore revealing clothing on vacation or just around the house.
He still stayed paying all of your bills but he insisted that college wasn’t necessary anymore, why did you need it when you had him? Why did you need a social life when you had him?
The topic wasn’t up for debate in your eyes so he let it go.
Awaking from your nap, you didn’t hear the television anymore, had he left you alone there?
Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you reached to the bedside table for your phone to call him but your hand grasped nothing but air. 
Stepping down from the bed, your feet patted on the floor, your fuzzy socks keeping them warm from the hardwood floor.
Stumbling into the living room you spotted Cillian seated on the sofa, reading a book while your phone lay unlocked and open besides him.
“Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know you tell me.” When he spoke his tone was low to the point that you could tell something was wrong, he was upset with you.
“Cillian, what’s wrong?” As you sat down on the comforting cushion, reaching for your phone he pulled it away from you, holding it away almost as if it were a toy.
“Who’s Christian, and why do you have plans with him tonight? You didn’t even bother to ask me.” Ask him? Why would you need to have his approval to make plans with your friends. You could see why he’d be bothered he’s a male friend of yours that he hadn’t met yet, closer to your age, and you couldn’t introduce him tonight since he had a press conference to attend.
“He’s in my forensics class, he’s really kind and I was planning on introducing you to him and-“
“When? Because you’ve been chatting for weeks, never heard you bring up this man’s name once.” He stood up from the couch, tossing his book on the table as he strode annoyed to the kitchen.
You were at a loss for words but still found yourself following him like a lost puppy, worried for your marriage.
“Cillian I-“
“You’re not going. I hope you can realize how inappropriate this is. Did you even think about me and the way I would feel. I’m a high profiled person Y/N, far more older than you and my career loves to prod at our marriage. You being out with him alone in public, while I’m at a conference, what do you think that’s going to do to my reputation. Or did your mindless twenty year old brain not think that far.” You crossed your arms defeatedly. Maybe he had a point, you didn’t stop to think about the career or the press, you’d forgotten that you were married to a celebrity, one that does not like his personal life being involved with the public.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, I guess I’m still learning how to adjust to publicity, and just being married in general. You know you are my first relationship Cillian.” His mood changed, his shoulders unstiffening as he slid your phone back to you over the countertop.
“I think it’d be best to delete your social media.” You nodded in agreement but your brain was telling you not to abide by his rules or feelings. You were still young but maybe he had a point that this was just some young, silly phase that you needed to grow out of. 
If you were old enough for marriage you surely didn’t need social media, but were you ready to delete everything you knew?
Glancing up at him, he watched you intently, his arms crossed while he leaned back against the refrigerator.
You tapped on your phone deleting the applications,  showing Cillian the screen once you were done.
“Satisfied?” He smiled gracefully, his demeanor now seemed calm as he came up behind you, wrapping his arms almost too tightly around your waist.
“I am, now how about we go to the wardrobe and see what gown we can find for you tonight eh? Does that sound good?” He snuggled his nose into the crook of your neck, one of your many tickle spots causing you to giggle and nuzzle back against him, completely ignoring what had just happened.
~
Taking a seat at your table as the questions went by for the new season of Peaky Blinders, your phone vibrated on the table. While Tom was answering a question Cillian’s eyes glanced down at the notification, his jaw tightening when he saw it was Christian once more, asking for an answer on a time.
Noticing his reaction anxiety filled your chest and you tried your best to act like nothing was happening just as he was.
Folding his hands underneath his chin, he settled his attention back on the people, smiling respectfully as if he saw nothing like the flick of a switch.
The tension was clear that there would be an argument when you arrived home. 
The rest of the night Cillian charmed his way through, acting calm and collected, talking with such charisma you were starting to wander in your mind of what the argument was even about.
There were a few questions here and there about your marriage to which Cillian would simply respond with, “She’s always been my number one supporter and we look forward to our future together. That’s all I have to say.” He politely disregarded the age difference questions, or any questions that involved anything other than the show at hand.
He kept his pda to a minimum not going any further than his arms behind your shoulder or settled innocently on your side.
He really was a private man and would go to any extent to keep it that way.
~
The ride home his demeanor had changed, he didn’t talk to you once, nor did he even take one singular glance your way. Even when you attempted conversation you got nothing in return. You felt at a disadvantage, like you were messing up your marriage.
Maybe you weren’t mature enough just yet, maybe you did jump in too fast, you still hadn’t given in to your word about sex yet and it had been a month you’ve been officially married. What if he found it elsewhere? What if he thinks you’re finding it elsewhere, possibly with Christian. Anxiety fulfilled you entirely, the fear of losing Cillian worried you, how were you supposed to live without him in your life? How would you pay your bills when you hadn’t been working? Was he going to ask for a divorce?
Putting the car in park, he stepped out of the car, walking rather hurriedly to your side, opening the door and grasping your forearm forcing you out and inside the house. He was beginning to frighten you as he had never handled you with such violence before.
Once the door closed behind you couldn’t stop the tears from brimming at your eyelids.
“Why is he still texting you? Hm? I thought we were past this?” You sucked up your tears and tried your best to hold them back as you tossed your purse onto the sofa.
“Cillian I told you he’s just a friend! I want you to meet him please! I haven’t talked to my friends from home since we began dating and he’s the only friend I have made out here! I-“ He silenced you by putting his hand, before approaching you slowly, determination and anger filling his eyes. 
“No, no. Listen to me, when guys have friends that are girls, they want them to believe that they’d never fuck them when in reality they’re only friends with you so they can be the first one to swoop you up and spread your legs to make you fell better when a relationship falls a part. This isn’t a relationship this is a marriage and I’ll be damned if this little fucker thinks that he has a chance with you when you won’t even give in to me when I’ve given you absolutely everything!” His words struck a nerve and you hated that when you were mad or angry you’d begin to cry.
You turned your back on him, heading toward the bedroom to where he followed you instantly.
“May I need not remind you it is my name on that car, it is my bank account connected to your college funding, you are on my health insurance and you wouldn’t be able to afford any of it without me. Block his number and get rid of him, it’s the least you can do when I have done so much more for you!” When you didn’t budge you stared at him blankly, not recognizing who he was anymore.
This wasn’t the Cillian you had fallen in love with, this wasn’t the kind, respectable man who claimed to love you.
His eyebrows raised expectantly glancing down at the phone in your hand. When you didn’t do anything but stand there like a child who had just gotten yelled at and told no, he decided that enough was enough.
Walking forward, each step contained an enormous amount of fury as he snatched the phone from your hands. When you attempted to reach for it he grabbed your wrist, gripping the skin tightly to where you knew not to fight him.
Opening the conversation, he paid close attention to the emojis and noting the sentences this man has said to you.
“Hope you’ve had a great day🥰”
“Just checking in on you.”
“I assume we need to reschedule our study date for another time then.” 
Then the final one that really made him upset, the one he sent at the conference.
“Please check in with me so I know you’re doing well, I want to make sure you do great on this test😊” 
He scoffed and laughed darkly in disbelief before his eyes reverted back to you. 
“Well why don’t we get rid of your little boy toy here for good, shall we?” Before you had time to react he turned you around, forcefully bending you over the bed onto the satin sheets.
“I-I’m not ready, please, Cillian don’t do this!” His mind was too far gone. He had resisted temptation for too long, the way you dressed and talked like nothing you did affected him.
He knew you wouldn’t tell anyone, who could you tell? Your friends were convinced you left them in the dust as you hadn’t talked to them in almost a year, your parents wanted nothing to do with you once you married him and went to the lengths of blocking your number. He had you solely isolated and reliant on him, emotionally, financially, and now sexually. You just didn’t know that last part quite yet.
He slid your dress up harshly revealing the tight, nearly see through black panties you were wearing, that hugged your ass cheeks tightly, holding your pussy snuggly in the fabric. 
The phone was tossed to the side, you could hear the screen shattering on the floor as he stepped on it with hatred.
“I did my waiting. I’ve given you anything and everything you’ve ever wanted and it is my turn to receive some pleasure from this marriage.” His knee came up, pushing your legs a part, resting against your heat. As one of his hands held your small wrists in a grip that you knew you wouldn’t be able to wiggle out of.
His free hand undid his belt, the sound forcing tears to escape your tired eyes.
“What kind of a wife do you think you are? Because it’s not what one should be. Hiding other men from me, galloping around like you don’t owe me any pleasure or respect.” His armed swayed back, and down again the harsh leather slapping loudly against  your sensitive, delicate skin, forcing a cry to escape from your lips.
Another painful bow after another one and it brought him enjoyment to see you suffering beneath him, crying relentlessly as your ass cheeks turned a deep shade of red. 
The endless lashing as he spewed venom above had your chest rising and falling dramatically from the harsh reality this is whom you chose to marry. Your parents were right, you weren’t mature enough for marriage you weren’t ready for such a commitment and now you had no way out.
Flipping you over onto your back, his hand gripped your side, pulling your body aggressively toward him.
His member released from underneath the smooth fabric if his pants, popping up against his chest effortlessly. 
He was big, surely that wouldn’t fit in you would it?
Grasping at the sheets, attempting to get away from him his nails dug into your hips.
“I thought you’d like this Y/N, you crave attention from other men, anyone who would give you the time of the day. You’re nothing but a tease, a slut. Thinking you could disrespect me eh?” His hair hung over his forehead as his animalistic nature took over his entire being.
The sight of your young, beautiful, unflawed body sent thrills up his spine, his adrenaline pumping through his veins knowing that he’d be the only man able to take your virginity. 
The one whom claimed your innocence the day he layed his frigid eyes on yours.
He groaned in pleasure while you screamed as he pulled you down onto his rather large length forcefully, taking the breath from your lungs as your eyes widened.
Your eyes never left him, gazing at the man you know longer knew in a pained expression.
“My, my Mrs. Murphy, what a delicacy you are.” He pumped slowly in and out of you as you lay frozen, your stomach in knots.
“Why- why are you doing this to me?” If you had ever questioned if he was taking advantage of your age and the pure ignorance to all of the signs, you were sure now.
His tongue swiped over his bottom lip before biting agonizingly slow on his bottom lip, watching your not so innocent pussy suck his length in and slide back out, the tightness warming his cock.
He didn’t respond to you as he fucked into you raw, and mercilessly watching your tits bounce aggressively up and down, he knew he wouldn’t last long with an untouched, young body like yours.
His hands gripped your hips vigorously as you cried knowing you’d be unable to stop this from happening.
“I won’t have my wife being a fucking whore, the only thing you can be a whore for is my cock. If I find you talking to that little friend of yours again I’ll just have to try that back entrance I suppose.”
Your hands curled in the sheets as he towered over you, he could feel your slick start to warm up his cock even more, your walls tightening around his length involuntarily.
His thighs started to twitch and you knew what was about to happen.
“Cil-Cillian don’t!” But it was too late, his moans filled the bedroom as he shot his load up into your tight tunnel of ecstacy, his cock popping out of you.
You curled in on yourself completely petrified of the abusive nature Cillian contained.
When his hands settled on your hip, your body flinched away from his touch but he didn’t care.
“Pretty soon we’ll have our own little Murphy won’t we darling?” He exited the room and you heard the shower click on, you stared at the bathroom not daring to get up, the pain he inflicted in your most private area never going away, you were a battered wife.
The following month you had missed your period just as Cillian had planned.
He knew your weakness was the chance of being a mother, and you found yourself staying with him in hopes he’d change.
You never told a single soul about what he had done in fear of his high society status and the powerful people he knew that would turn your truth into lies to the public, making everyone hate you. No fan of Cillian’s would believe you, nor would his family and friends.
He’d leave you with absolutely nothing and for you to find your own way home, but what was home anymore? Your friends hated you, your family disapproved of your life you had nobody back in the states and Cillian surely would not claim to be the father of this child, giving you no support.
The first love you experienced, the first man who showed you attention was now your keeper.
To the public he was an innocent, charming, respectful, charismatic man, he would never do such awful acts to a woman.
Walking into the room pulling you away from the worrisome, intrusive though, Cillian came up behind you dressed in a suit and tie ready to head to the Oppenheimer premiere.
“You look dazzling my darling.” His hand cupped your now very visible bump, as he kissed your neck lovingly, softly. Something you had missed.
Tonight would be the first night you’d be in public since finding out you’re pregnant which you thought rather odd Cillian even invited you to go, due to the fact that this is his private life.
Escorting you out of the room, he opened the car door for you gracefully and when he settled his hand atop of yours you couldn’t help but shutter, still not being completely over what he did.
Once in front of the cameras you stuck on your happy face as Cillian played the devoted, caring husband part by assisting you out of the car, not once letting go of your hand.
His lips closed in, leaning ever so closely to your ear just barely touching your skin as he spoke forebodingly in your ear.
“Smile my darling, smile for the cameras.” 
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hintsofhoney · 1 year
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Radio and the Rain
Pairing(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Summary: When a bad storm forces you and Dean apart on a hunt, he realizes just how much you mean to him.
Tags: 18+, smut, making love, p in v, all that jazz... nothing too crazy
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: Hello, I'm back after almost 6 months. Moving across the country (again) among other big life events (all good ones!) gave me the worst writer's block of all time, but thanks to my friends (@soaringeag1e & @emoryhemsworth), writing this fic per their suggestion (based off Radio and the Rain by Chris Young) is what finally pulled me out of it! Beta'd by my angels @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean. Alright, hope you all enjoy, and I promise I'll be back again with more things soon!
You can also read me on Ao3!
DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
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“Y/N!” Dean calls out, doubtful that you can hear him over the sound of the rain coming down as he tries to ignore the panic building inside him. His hair is stuck to his forehead from the downpour, water droplets streaming down his face as he tries to shield himself from the weather. It’s no use. He’s soaked to the bone – he’s not sure he could have worn enough layers to keep him dry, not in this storm – and the darkness of the forest seems to go on forever. He could have sworn there was a town nearby – some light pollution would be really helpful right about now – but he seems to be shit out of luck. Thunder booms above him, almost deafening, and he keeps on what he hopes is the right path, his heart rate steadily increasing. He needs to find you. 
“Y/N!” he yells again after another minute passes. If he’s soaked, he can’t imagine what you must be. He remembers what you’re wearing; skinny jeans, a thin green t-shirt, a black faux leather jacket, hunting boots. Normally, he doesn’t complain about your refusal to wear more layers, but right now, ‘I told you so’ is on the tip of his tongue. He would need a large amount of hands to count how many times he’s told you to prepare for anything , and that a flimsy t-shirt and jacket weren’t gonna cut it, but in your defense, this storm came out of nowhere. He had to give you that, at least. 
“Dean!” he whips his head around at the faint sound of his name making its way through the rain, and yells yours out once more before making his way towards your voice. His eyes are adjusted enough to the dark to where he can make out silhouettes of fallen trees ahead of him, stepping over them with little caution as you call out to him again. He has to make sure you’re okay. He has to get to you. 
“I’m here, Y/N!” he yells, “Where are you!?” 
“Dean!” 
He hears it, clear as day from behind him. He turns around in time to see the outline of your soaked body appearing from behind the trees.
“Y/N!” He rushes to you, taking your cold hand in his, and you can’t tell if he’s relieved or angry to see you – or a little bit of both. You should have listened to him when he told you splitting up was a bad idea, but completing the hunt had been the only thing on your mind, Dean’s lectures about safety be damned. “Jesus, you’re freezing,” he comments, like he isn’t an icicle himself. He wants to say, ‘I told you splitting up was a bad idea’, but he holds his tongue. He can lecture you later. 
He grabs you firmly by the shoulders, looking you up and down. “Are you okay?” 
With the rain pouring down, he sounds like he’s whispering, even though you can tell he’s only a decibel away from full-on screaming. Lightning strikes in the distance, and you’re able to get a clear view of his face for a brief moment. Water streaming down his clenched jaw, hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, worried green eyes searching yours. They land on your cheek, which you think is bleeding thanks to the branch that smacked you in the face a few minutes ago, and you roll your eyes at his over-concern.
“I’m fine, Dean. It’s just a scratch.” 
“C’mon,” he replies gruffly, pulling you into his coat in an attempt to shield you from the rain. “Baby’s got a first aid kit in the back.” 
Ten minutes of walking later and you can make out Baby’s silhouette parked on the road on the other side of some trees. The rain seems to have gotten even worse – if that’s even possible – and the thought of being underneath some type of roof (Baby’s was just as good as any) where you’d have an opportunity to get dry was getting your tired legs through the last bit of your trek out of the muddy woods. 
Your first step onto the dirt road comes with more rain as you come out from under the umbrella of trees. Dean opens the back door for you, ushering you inside and telling you not to worry about your shoes (something that he was usually a stickler about; he liked a clean car). To your surprise, he gets in behind you, quickly closing the door before the backseat can get even more wet. He leans over the front bench, fishing his keys out of his pocket, before starting the ignition and turning on the heat. The radio comes on as Baby starts up, and he lets it play as he opens the glove box and pulls out a flashlight, before sitting back and reaching underneath the driver’s seat for the first aid kit. 
“Hold this,” he orders, turning on the light and handing it to you, the brightness of the bulb causing you both to squint as your eyes adjust. 
“Dean, I told you, I’m fine,” you reiterate with an exhausted sigh, watching as he opens the white box in his lap. 
“Shine it on your face, I need to get a better look.”
You roll your eyes, pointing the flashlight on your cheek, allowing Dean to grab the underside of your chin as he moves your head to the side and examines the damage. 
“Needs to be cleaned,” he announces, letting you go and pulling out a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and gauze from the kit. You watch as he unscrews the cap and flips the bottle over, letting the cloth absorb some of the liquid before flipping it back and closing it. “This is gonna sting.”
He says that every time, and you chuckle softly in response. “Yeah, not my first time.” 
He doesn’t even crack a smile. He grabs underneath your chin again, dabbing your wound with the cloth, and you’re too focused on his mood to even notice the sting. A minute passes by, and you’re sure it’s clean by now, but he seems to be on autopilot, jaw clenched and eyes both focused in on what he’s doing and glazed over at the same time. 
“Dean,” you say gently, placing your free hand on top of his, stilling his movements and pulling him out of his trance. “I think it’s clean.”
Silence, except for the rain and the radio, which is quietly playing Is This Love by Whitesnake (not usually what this station plays, but it’s 2 a.m. and you figure they probably save the sappy 80s songs for this time of night). 
And then, “You can’t do that.” His voice is barely above a whisper. 
You furrow your eyebrows and tilt your head. “Do what?”
“Scare me like that. I didn’t – I thought –” he shakes his head, dropping his hand and placing the gauze back in the kit, along with the rubbing alcohol, before closing it and shoving it back under the seat. “Just – you can’t do that.”
“Dean, the storm came out of nowhere. We’ve split up on hunts so many –”
“And it’s never my idea!” he interrupts. 
“What do you want me to say, Dean!? ‘I’m sorry that God decided to flood the earth again while we were out hunting werewolves’!? I am fine , okay? I can handle –”
He cups your face in his cold hands, careful to avoid the fresh cut on your cheek. “I don’t doubt that you can handle yourself. But I can’t lose you, do you get that?” His face is inches away from yours, and the flashlight slips out of your hands and onto the floor as your breath catches in your throat. The radio starts playing the all-too familiar beginning chords of Night Moves , and you can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod. Dean tucks a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “I can’t lose you,” he whispers.
“I know,” you reply breathily. You place your hand over his again. “You won’t, De.” 
The corner of his mouth lifts up into a brief half smile – one that you would have missed had you not been watching his every move. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip with a feather-light touch, and all you can hear is the radio and the rain. 
“Your lips are freezing,” he comments, not-so-subtly (in true Dean fashion). 
“Shame there’s no way to warm them,” you whisper back, biting back a smile. 
“Hm,” he smirks, leaning in. “I can think of a way.”
You close your eyes as his lips meet yours, instantly sending warmth back into your body. Night Moves is still playing, and you ignore the irony as you kiss him back like not freezing to death depends on it. It’s not your first kiss with Dean, but it’s the first one that feels like it really means something, like you could be more than just friends who hook up occasionally. His hands move from your face to your jacket, unzipping it before he helps peel it off your body, your wet skin making everything a thousand times harder. He carelessly throws it into the front seat before his lips move to your neck and he works on getting his own top layer off. He finds your sweet spot right under your ear, one that sends warm shivers down your spine, and then his hands are back on your body, finding their way underneath your soaked shirt, trailing up your sides. His palms feel warm against your skin, and you don’t know if it’s the heat blasting through the vents or the adrenaline pumping through your veins, but you’ve never been hotter. 
The two of you separate for a few seconds and tug off the remainder of your clothes, everything landing in a nice pile on the front seat — muddy boots included. The cleanliness of his car is the last thing Dean is concerned about right now. 
You feel a lot more comfortable naked — meaning, you’re only wet where you want to be now — and you lean back in the seat, your head resting against the door, as Dean hovers over you, taking you in. The flashlight on the ground was your only source of light with the moonlight blocked out by the storm still raging outside. 
“You’re beautiful,” he states, not like an opinion, but like it’s an undeniable fact. Like if you were to look up ‘beautiful’ in the dictionary right now you’d find a picture of your face. 
You smile. “Thank you.”
His finger traces your jaw bone, his thumb gently outlines the scrape on your cheek. “I don’t think it’s gonna scar,” he says. You love it when he’s like this: pure and unfiltered, saying exactly what he’s thinking when he’s thinking it.
You chuckle softly. “Good. Be real ugly if it did.” 
His expression turns serious. “No it wouldn’t.” He states that like it’s a fact too, and you have no choice but to accept it. 
“Okay. It would be pretty badass, I guess,” you concede.
He smiles and nods, leaning down to kiss you softly, quickly, before pulling back and whispering, “Yeah, it would.”
He trails his kisses down your jaw, neck, collarbone, and you catch the next song on the radio — Feels Like the First Time — and roll your eyes and try not to laugh because of course . You’re brought back to the present when Dean’s mouth wraps around your nipple, his tongue flicking over the hardened bud as your hands instantly come to grip his wet hair. 
“Fuck,” you breathe, back arching off the leather seat, and he chuckles softly before releasing you with a ‘pop’. 
“That’s the plan, sweetheart.”
You roll your eyes again, but they quickly close as he moves to give your right nipple some attention, gently pinching the other between his thumb and pointer finger. Your moans cause his cock to twitch, and you feel it against your inner thigh, imagining what it must look like right now. 
“Please,” you beg, and you both know exactly what for. He gladly returns his lips to yours, before nestling himself comfortably (or as comfortable as one can get in the backseat of a ‘67 Chevy) between your legs, still damp and sticky from the rain. He kisses you hard as he enters you slowly, and you moan into his mouth as you adjust to his size. Nothing’s ever felt so good. 
“Jesus,” he breathes, pulling away momentarily and bracing himself with one hand on the fogged up window as he bottoms out and stays there, looking down at you like you’re the only thing that matters to him, and right now, you are. “Mm, fuck .” He starts to move, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck, his hot breath and soft groans doing nothing to help stall the tightening coil in your abdomen. “‘m never letting you out of my sight again,” he whispers.
All you can do is nod; he feels so good, you never want him to stop.
“Can’t fuckin’ lose you,” he mumbles, his face coming to hover above yours as he cups your unscathed cheek with his free hand. “You hearin’ me?” He shakes his head. “I can’t.”
You nod again, a little more aggressively this time. “I know, Dean. You won’t,” you reassure him through unsteady breaths. It’s your turn to shake your head. “You won’t.”
You hadn’t noticed his thrusts speeding up, too lost in your emotions until he hits a spot that you didn’t even know you had.
“Oh, fuck ,” you hiss, arching your back. “Fuck, right there.”
He listens, picking up the pace ever so slightly, his lips on your neck again, his heavy pants in your ear. “Shit, sweetheart, you feel so good.” He’s breathing so hard it’s barely audible, but you hear it clear as day, and it’s what brings you to the edge. 
“Fuck, Dean, I’m gonna —”
“Me too, me too.”
And then you’re tensing underneath him as a wave of pleasure washes over you, his cock twitching inside you as he fills you up, and he’s holding himself up on trembling forearms, desperately trying not to collapse on top of you as the exhaustion from the day finally hits you both like a tidal wave. Through heavy breathing you notice that it’s still pouring outside — probably deeming you stuck here on this no name road until it lets up — and that You Shook Me All Night Long is playing on the radio, and you can’t help but giggle softly and shake your head. 
“What?” he questions, confused.
“I think both the weather and the radio are demanding that we go again.”
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TAGLIST(S)
If you signed up for my taglist but don’t see your name below, it’s because Tumblr won’t let me tag you!
FOREVERS: @writercole // @makeadealwithdean // @slamminmine // @impala1967dwinchester // @wayward-dreamer // @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan // @deandreamernp // @kitkatd7 // @thewritersaddictions // @foxyjwls007 // @kyjey // @boeshaneboy // @besas-stuff // @babypink224221 // @stoneyggirl2 // @440mxs-wife // @sexyvixen7 // @samsgirl93 // @alwayssnivellus // @simpfoegeorge // @ajordan2020
SUPERNATURAL: @deans-baby-momma // @cookiechipdough // @roonyxx // @jassackles // @roseblue373 // @redbarn1995
DEAN WINCHESTER: @perpetualabsurdity // @lyarr24 // @solarrexplosion // @rach5ive // @akshi8278 // @pink-sparkly-witch // @emoryhemsworth // @whore4romance // @themerc-with-a-mouth
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Butterfly I
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a/n I'm clawing my way into this fandom since salt and pepper god took over my brain! Be gentle with me since it's my first time writing for this man! Happy reading! 🤍
summery: When Joel thinks that his life is over his little butterfly sends him a new reason to stay alive. The only problem is that he doesn't know how to love but when you are the meaning of love itself how can he not fall.
Part II can be found on my blog
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World had ended twenty years ago for Joel. Even more so, he was sure that he had died alongside Sarah. If he had a chance, he would have gladly been buried by his little girl. He didn't have a reason to be alive. Well, there was Tommy, but at that moment even that didn't seem like enough to keep him going. The moment Joel failed to do his first and most important job—protect the ones he loved—changed him without a chance of going back.
The morals had to die soon as well, and Joel had learned it the hard way. He tried to fight and protect the innocent at first. To stupidly ensure that everyone had been taken care of in the same amounts. Well, that resulted in him getting beaten multiple times. He didn't fight it at first. The physical pain numbed the emotional scars. But then something snapped in him, and he longed for the first blow. Then the second. Third. With a realization that this was how his sorry life was going be for the rest of his pointless existence. To fear less, Joel needed to become someone people feared, and he did just that.
Until, after one of his deals, he ended up running into you. Completely by accident as he tried to get away from the people he just had business with. Joel bumped into you, knocking you to the ground and causing you to hit your head on the pavement. "Shit, fuck", the male kneeled beside you cursing. You just laid there, and for a split second, Joel was convinced that you had died, until you let out a growl as you moved your hand to gently touch your pounding head. He debated whether he should just leave you there or take you back to his place. The first option was less complicated and demanded fewer efforts from him, but when he saw your eyes as you tried to look around, seeking to find who had caused such a collision, that's when he knew he couldn't just walk away like that.
Then a smile crept onto your face, followed by a light chuckle, and something inside Joel twisted again. He hadn't heard the sound of laughter in years. "Dang, for a moment I saw white horses running around", you laughed out loud, covering your eyes with your hands. Even more, concern washed over Joel. Had you hit your head that hard? He couldn't afford to get you medication or even a doctor for that. So he did the next best thing - assisted you in getting up and walking you to his place.
Everything after that was made up of Joel trying to hurt you so you would leave him and go your way. He desperately wanted to push you out of his life because he was afraid to admit that Sarah would have loved you. That she would have been nagging him constantly to bring you around. Imagining how life would have been with you before the outbreak. How would it have felt to come home to you making dinner? Hearing you and Sarah laughing together. Joel knew—he knew without even needing to think about it much—that his daughter would have loved you. He wished she had had the opportunity to experience your motherly love. The effortless, endless love that poured from within you. And finally, have a truly normal family built on love.
After all, Joel was convinced that Sarah had sent you to him herself. As if it was her way of making sure, even from heaven, which Joel barely believed in, that her father lived. Not just used up air and wasted his days away but found something to live for. You angrily bandaged Joel's arm one evening after yet another deal had ended poorly, leaving the man with a nasty cut on his forearm. Well, if he could even call that anger. Joel doubted you had that emotion implanted in your brain. You had pushed up your sleeves, not wanting the ends of them to get damp as you moved back and forth between a bowl of warm water and a cloth to clean the blood off his skin. That was the first time Joel saw the ink on your body. A butterfly, and then another one just above the first one.
Joel thought he imagined it at first. He knew he must have looked like a lunatic to you when he gripped your left hand firmly before pushing the material of your sleeve even further up. Three butterflies. All inching further up and up. Butterflies. Sarah loved them; she was Joel's little butterfly. The butterfly that got crushed by the brutality of this world.
"Joel," you carefully mumbled as his fingers traced the tattoos. A flicker of what was behind the mask flashed in his eyes. You knew that he was a broken man. People talked, and even if half of what they were saying was true, it was a lot to go through. Especially alone. Especially after losing the main purpose of your world. "This… when did you get this?", his words came out harsh, as if you should have felt guilty, "Not long before the outbreak. It just…", you giggled to yourself, "Feels silly now that they symbolize growth, a new beginning, and shit". However, it didn't seem stupid to Joel even if he had yanked the cloth out of your hand, pushing you out of the bathroom. Emotions took control of him. He couldn't love you. Couldn't stand you. But the way you kept knocking at the door, concern in your voice as you pleaded with him to let you in, only proved what he already knew. You two had found someone to hold onto. As scary as it may sound.
When Ellie first met you, she couldn't believe that you two were even here and had somehow mutually agreed on something. It seemed impossible to her. You were the polar opposite in her eyes. From the moment in the hallway when Joel had yanked her against the wall, you had warned the male as you leaned over to the girl. Ellie backed away at first, but it's like you had a magical touch, and not even a blink later, she was clinging to you as if you were the last straw for her survival. Joel had only grumbled more at the sight of that. "Get your hands off her," he said, motioning with the gun for the girl to move away, but all you did was tilt your head to the side, giving him one of those looks. "Joel…" you warned him, before turning your attention to the girl, "I'm Y/N, and that's Joel. He's always grumpy. It comes with age, so don't pay too much attention to him." For a moment, Ellie got scared that the gun might now end up being pointed at you, but the male only tightened his jaw before lowering the weapon. And that didn't change when you crossed the wall. You were there talking with her, making sure that she was okay, ensuring that Ellie's desire to communicate was satisfied, while Joel just frowned.
"Here you are", Joel's voice brought you out of your thoughts, and you smiled at him softly. You had just made your way to the safe house. Days of traveling rubbed off on all of you, so you were more than happy to indulge in some peace. "Was wondering where you crept away", even if Joel was 99 percent sure that he was going to find you here once he didn't find you in the dining room. It only took one look outside to know you'd be on the patio. Curled up on the bench watching the sunset. Any time you came by Bill's and Frank's, you always spent your evenings there.
"Missed the view," you mumble, resting your chin on your knees, "Or maybe the fact that there is nothing to fear here." Joel moved to sit next to you. His own eyes admired the view. He stopped doing stuff like this. Before the outbreak, it was work, work, work to keep a roof over everyone's heads, bring food, and give Sarah the best life that she deserved. After… well, moments like this felt almost forbidden. Not to mention that letting your guard down could get you killed. "Come here," Joel said, nudging your shoulder and wrapping his arm around you. Interactions like that between the two of you were rear but not completely foreign. You two had shared the bed numerous times. Joel had offered you a warm embrace when he saw that the world was close to crushing you. But you had never talked about who you two were or if you were anything more than a bed warmer for one another. "You do know that I would do anything to protect you?", Joel spoke out under his breath, bringing you even closer to him. Your heart skipped a beat as you moved your palm to cup his jaw, leaving a couple of kisses there as you nodded.
"Do you think they were happy when they…", you couldn't bring yourself to finish your sentence as the lump in your throat grew bigger. Joel hummed, "They had each other. That's all Bill and Frank needed". You moved to rest your head on Joel's shoulder. Breathing in both the scent of him and the brisk evening breeze. "Do you ever dream about finding the love they had?", the question was silly, truly, and you knew it. You and your existential questions had pissed Joel off more than once, but for some reason, you never stopped asking them. And for some reason, even through gritted teeth, Joel always answered them. The silence fell between you two for a moment. Joel hesitated to give you an answer. The truth was that the ten years you'd spent by his side had been surreal for him. Even if he constantly pushed you away, no matter the arguments you two would have, he always came back to you. Always. And you never walked away. You were always there waiting for him, even when he quite literally told you to get lost. When you were apart, all Joel could think of, was you. Nothing else mattered. He didn't matter. It was you who swirled around his mind. "Well," the male trailed off, "I've already…" But the door on the patio shot open as Ellie walked out, still looking down at the drawing on the shirt you had found for her.
"Hey, did you know that wild berry soup smells like strawberries?", she beamed till her eyes fell on the two of you. Her face instantly shifted since she had never seen you two this close. Well, she assumed that you might be together, but since she didn't see any grown-up interactions being exchanged, she just pushed that thought to the side. "Shit man, you are together. I was talking shit about him to you," Ellie practically cried out as she raised her hands above her head, making you let out a laugh against Joel's shoulder. "We're not dating, bug", "She talked shite about me?" you and Joel said at the same time. The fact that he had gotten visibly offended by it made you let out another chuckle before you tapped his chest a couple of times.
"Girls have to stick together," you shrugged, and Ellie quickly gave Joel the middle finger. "Okay, enough, you two. Go insane, pick something for dinner, and I'll be right behind you," you said, throwing the blanket you had with at the girl, as ushered Ellie inside. You brushed your hand over Joel's chest as you walked towards the door. Joel's brain screamed at him to catch your hand. To make you stop so he could tell you the words he was meaning to say before Ellie walked in, but he didn't. Only tightening his jaw as his lips thinned into a tight line. He was a fool. A true fool who never truly learned to express himself. If only he could, maybe he would be able to call you his.
Joel's gaze immediately shifted to the window that peaked into the inside of the house once the sound of something falling echoed through the air. You and Ellie were on different sides of the island. The girl had one of those smirks that usually led nowhere good on her face. Then the sound of laughter shot through the space as you took off running to grab hold of whatever Ellie was holding in her hands. The girl squealed as you both ran in circles. "Give me the spaghetti hoops, you little thief!", you yelled, but that only made Ellie laugh more. "I'll tell Joel", you tried to threaten her, but she only let out a huff, "You wouldn't snitch", Ellie narrowed her eyes at you. You quickly hopped onto the island and slid to the other side, taking hold of both of Ellie's hands but losing your balance as you two tumbled to the ground. Joel practically ran inside at the sight of that, the worst scenarios already running wild. He couldn't let you get hurt. Neither of you could get hurt.
Joel rounded the corner, his heart already beating fast. And here you were. Ellie was nearly on top of you as you, as you two stared at each other, both still confused at what had just happened. And then there it was again. The laughter. The whole-hearted laughter drenched Joel's heart dry. Your arms wrapped around Ellie as she giggled away, pressing her cheek against your chest. Joel picked up the can of spaghetti hoops that had rolled off and were long forgotten. "Oh no, daddy is here, and he is mad," Ellie shrieked playfully, not lifting her head away from you. "Don't call me that shit," Joel warned her before slamming the can against the counter. He quickly turned around, running a hand over his face. Your expression clouded as well. Carefully, you helped Ellie stand up. Her eyes were looking at you as if she were silently asking if she had overstepped a boundary, but you just gave her a quick wink before pointing to the pot. In a couple of steps, you reached Joel as your hands ran down his back. His muscles tensed under your touch, but the moment you pressed a kiss in between his shoulder blades, Joel let out a sigh. "How about you take a shower while we heat up the food? Clear your mind and all that?", you continued to draw patterns on his skin. Joel didn't say anything as he stepped away from you and over to the stairs.
"Is he mad with me?", Ellie's voice made you turn to her. Her big eyes watched you as you shook your head. "He… well, Joel struggles with his emotions. He cares a lot, but that ends up overwhelming him, and then this happens," you said softly, Ellie nodded her head as if agreeing with you. You nudged her shoulder gently and asked, "Want to make the whole feast tonight? Get the canned sausages out." The shower was indeed all that Joel needed. The hot water took that extra weight of tension off his shoulders, and the fresh set of clothes made him feel like a new man. He was excellent at ignoring his basic needs, but with you, there was no need to worry about that because you always reminded him about all the little things. Things to made him feel better.
Ellie was delivering joke after joke while you all ate. Her energy was surprisingly high, considering that the last couple of days had been rough. "I'm telling you, he just knows all the jokes", she grumbled when Joel hit the right answer to her fifth joke, defeating the purpose of her performance. Joel's hand had slipped under the table, casually resting on your thigh, and you occasionally gave it a little squeeze as if to ensure him that you were here with him. "Okay, can I try?", you weren't much of a jokester, but everyone knew a joke or two. Ellie nodded her head eagerly. You cleared your throat, "What do you call a fish with a bow tie?" You questioned the two of them, trying not to break into a smile. Ellie shrugged her shoulders. "SoFISHticated," Ellie just gaped at you, but Joel snorted under his breath. Your eyes fall on him in an instant. He shook his head, trying to keep the smile off his face. "You laughed, you fucker," Ellie said, pointing her fork at Joel. "I didn't," Joel argued back, "Yes, you fucking did. Y/N tell him", "Yeah, Joel, I consider that a laugh", you moved your hand to gently rub the back of his neck, and his eyes met yours. He got lost in the depths of them just a bit before another laugh escaped his lips. You bit your lip as you watched him, realizing how much you had missed the sound of that. Since the only time you heard it was when the two of you got shitface drunk, and he fell while trying to take his pants off.
"You can fucking laugh. Dude, you're normal," Ellie beamed, watching Joel chuckle. "Eat your noodles before I take them away," Joel warned, reaching over and scooping some of the spaghetti hoops from Ellie's plate, making her protest straight away. She leaned across the table to do the same, but Joel brushes her spoon away easily. "No playing with the food, you two," you gently warn them, even though you enjoyed watching them interact, especially Joel letting her in. They instantly settle back down, even if they continue to watch one another from the corner of their eyes.
Yeah, this was the closest to home that Joel had gotten in over twenty years. Now all he needed to do was own up to his feelings. Admit to himself that the scary feelings won't disappear. But he was going to be equally scared with you or without your officially being a part of his life. And he had promised Sarah, his little butterfly, that he wasn't going to let this go to waste. And that the three butterflies on your hand were possibly you, Joel, and Ellie; that you were all fated to meet. Maybe you two were sent here to change his life. Teach Joel how to fly again.
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hanafubukki · 2 months
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Concerning the Idia & proposing by pomegranate thing- what if he gives you the seeds slowly as he becomes more and more sure he wants to marry you? The first one he gives you is while he's at NRC. Just a single seed doesn't say anything, what's the harm in feeding you one just as a symbol of appreciation for what you are to him? Cue to a year or two later- he's no longer in school while you're still there (free housing, ya know?), but you're facetiming and doing everything you can to stay in contact/have a long distance relationship. He sends Ortho to visit you along with a gift basket, making sure Ortho has video proof that you ate the single pomegranate seed nestled among the fruit. Another year or two pass and you now live relatively close to each other. He's at your place, snuggled up to you on the couch as you're nodding off. He gets caught up in his feelings for you, of how much he loves you and would never want to live without you. His gaze never leaves you as he presses a seed into your mouth and you sleepily eat it. The fourth one is somewhat forced onto you- he had gotten jealous. You corner him into talking about his feelings, which leads to an emotional outburst. He corners you up against a wall, grimly speaking down to you. A pomegranate seed appears between his fingers and presses it into your lips, but you don't open your mouth. The rage he was displaying started to radiate away as you held strong until all his face showed was sadness. You know what he was feeling- what he was thinking. You were waiting for him to cool off. You take his hand in both of yours. He flinches. You can tell he wants to back up- to not be near you now- but he doesn't move away. Your lips part and mouth opens as you take the seed from him, looking into his eyes as you eat it (you don't know what's up with him and these occasional pomegranate seeds, but you know they mean something special to him). He hands are trembling now as his face starts shifting- he's gonna cry. You let go of his hands to cup his face instead and kiss his tears away as they start rolling down.
He's done for the night and laying in bed, ready to actually get some sleep. And what better way to fall asleep than to daydream of you. What naturally comes to mind first is embarrassing- your wedding. Nobody's watching so he let's himself indulge in his simping pleasures. Until he remembers (more like realizes). The seeds. He- He never thought your relationship would amount to anything- to continue this long. He figured you'd realize he was a loser, that you could do better, and one day leave him forever. That's why he never thought much about giving them to you- they were just symbols of his feelings for you that would never reach a critical number because you'd have left by then. He shivers. He's at 4. Not much more than half, but only 2 to go. What if he hadn't realized it in time? What if he'd given you the last two in another willy-nilly moment and unintentionally bound you to him for life? He knows what his options are. He knows, if he really wants to, he could leave you. Ghost you and never have you enter his life again. Never have another opportunity to feed you another seed. But he also knows- deep down he doesn't want to. Even disregarding the hope his heart cannot help but have, he wants to spend every single moment he can with you- up until the very last second. He's selfish like that. So he decides- he'll just ignore it. There's 2 left- that means he has 1 as a buffer before things get dangerous. It'll be fine. He won't feed you one again.
It happened again. He's at home, sitting on his bed as he reflects on his actions. He'd spent another day with you, as usual, and as the day was winding down... he was so in love with you. The idea popped into his head, "Feed her one. Give her a seed. You have to, you love her so much you can't bear it, so just press one more into her mouth- let it alleviate this positive pressure on your heart. Who cares if this will be the fith? It's the buffer seed. It'll be fine as long as you never give her another. It's fine, just do it!" And he had. And he was happy.
He hated his feelings ever since he'd fed you the fith seed. Day by day his desire to give you the fate-bounding sixth seed grew stronger and stronger. Again and again, he felt the compulsion to feed you another. But he had more willpower this time around, knowing what the consequences of his actions would be. It was difficult, but he'd held fast despite his tug-of-war of feelings- of loving you so much but having to not act on it. His suffering would be eased soon, however. You'd come to visit him but you were acting slightly off. Nervous maybe? No...flustered. You sat on his couch and gestured him to sit next to you, your knees angled so you'd also be facing each other. You were nervous, heat rising to your face, but you wanted to do this. Now you just had to start talking. "You know...Ortho told me." "??? T-Told you...what?" "What the pomegranate seeds mean." His heart dropped to his stomach as you continued talking, "He also let me know how many I've eaten so far. I feel like it's been way more than 5, but maybe that's because it's been over so many years." This is it, he thinks. It's gonna be over. "Have you... do you... would you want...? To... give me the last one?" He can't answer. The moment he does, you'll be gone (his appearance doesn't match his inner turmoil- with his blazing pink hair, blushing face, and dilated eyes). You can do this. You have to take the plunge. You take a breath to steel your nerves and raise your open palm. A single pomegranate seed sits in it. "I-I would like it. If you'd.... give it to me." He hasn't moved a single muscle. Is this rejection? "I-Idia?" You have unconsciously leaned closer to him, gravitating your face closer to his. The room is silent. You can't take anymore. You're about to pull back when you feel something tickle your hand. It's his slim, pale fingers, just barely grazing your palm. Now he's leaning closer as well, and he picks up the seed. He's yet to say anything- he's only staring at you. He lifts the seed. His pointer finger places it on the seam of your lips before his thumb gently holds it there, waiting for your permission to push it in.
(Extra: you move his hand away and pull him in for a kiss- your tongues pushing the seed around. You make sure it's in your mouth when you pull away, and you make sure to exaggerated your swallow so he knows it went down)
[in reference to this ask]
Hello Fake Date Sebek Anonke 🌸🌺💙
*grips you by the shoulders* Anonie, Anonie, the way I just gaped at this?? Wow??
It’s so cute?!! I adored reading it. 💞💞💙💙
@werewolfnamedraven, Raven you need to read this!!
Idia slowly coming into his feelings as time goes on is just -chef kiss-
The symbolism of courting you secretly but in his own way, you don’t know what it means, but you do it for him. 🥹💙
And then!! The sixth seed!! He could end his misery and make you his, but he doesn’t! Doesn’t allow that one last selfishness move his hand. Instead, you find out and make your choice. You ask him to give it to you.
It was your choice.
You chose to be with him ahhhhh 💞💞
And that kiss!!! That kiss!!
The kiss sealed the deal.
You are together now, not even death can seperate you two.
Fake Date Sebek Anonie, you’ve done beautifully!! I thank you in not leaving me in angst this time 💙🥰🌺
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daytaker · 3 months
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Hello! I’ve viewed your blog a few times and i really really like the way that you write, so when I learned that asks were i couldn’t help but make a request. Can we get some headcaons of the brothers meeting MC’s family for the first time and already Mama MC doesn’t like any of them because “they took away her baby.” Sorry if this is a little cringe.
But of course!
(Part 2: The Dateables + Luke)
"Mom, Dad, meet seven of my boyfriends."
...is what you want to say, but you know better than to panic your parents and fluster your totally platonic demon friends at a time like this.
And what a time it is. Here you are, surrounded by your parents, an aunt, your grandpa, and your sister, trying to calm your mother down from yet another diatribe about how you can't just get up and leave for a year---I mean, God, the police were looking for you! The police! You realize we thought they'd find your body in the woods somewhere? How could you do this to us?!---when suddenly:
Knock, knock. Knock knock knock knock knock knock. Thud. Thud. Thud.
"MC! Hey MC!"
"Mammon, if they hear you, you'll ruin the surprise!"
You and your relatives stare at the door. Then they all look at you. You give an awkward smile.
"Just give me a minute... I think those are some friends of mine..."
You really wish you lived somewhere besides a one bedroom apartment, but honestly, impossible in this economy. So you don't have anywhere remotely private to tell the brothers to scatter until the dust clears. In fact, the instant you open the door, Asmodeus flings his arms around you and kisses you on the cheek---in full view of your family, mind you!---and Beel shoves a box of half-eaten chocolates into your hand. Then seven voices are all clamoring for your attention at once on one end, and another five behind you. There are thirteen individuals in this tiny apartment, you realize, and you don't even have enough seats for your family to all sit. Your sister's seated on the floor.
"Heyyyyy guys, now's....not a great time...." A smile is plastered to your face as you tip your head in the direction of your extremely concerned parents. "And...seriously? It hasn't been two weeks yet."
Mammon looks confused, then indignant. "What? ...Hey, what the hell? You're already makin' new friends?! We really that replaceable?!"
Lucifer, who stands in the back holding a balloon bouquet with a jarringly serious expression on his face, speaks up. "I believe those are MC's relatives, Mammon. It seems we came at an inopportune time after all."
"Relatives?!" Asmo and Mammon hurry on over to give them all a good look-over, the others curiously observing.
"You're MC's mom, aren't you! Oh, MC! I see where you get your cheekbones!" Asmo gushes as your mother stares at him like he's from another planet. Which he sort of is, in a sense.
"MC? Who are these people?" your grandpa asks with bewilderment and not a small amount of concern.
"They're, um..."
"They're hot." Your sister waves her fingers at the group, and you wish you had perma-died in that attic.
You need to explain yourself quickly. On the spot. You'd already told your family you'd had a bit of a quarter-life crisis and gone backpacking across the country for the year, working through the mental collapse that living in the 21st century inevitably caused, so you ride off of that. These are a ragtag bunch you met on the road, you explain. You'd spent the better part of last year roughing it from the hills of Kentucky to the forests of Washington with these guys, and you'd become incredibly close as a result. You'd lived together, laughed together, loved together, and some of them even tried to kill you on a few occasions.
("'Tried'?" mutters Satan, and Belphie gives him a death glare.)
Under the leadership of the charismatic eldest brother, Lucifer, you'd become so close that it felt as if your very souls were somehow tethered---
"I'm sorry, 'Lucifer'?" Your mom has had just about enough of this. She approaches you with a look of heartbreaking concern in her eyes and cups your face. "....Baby, did you join a cult?"
"Who does she think she is, callin' 'em that?" seethes Mammon under his breath.
"Mammon, she's my MOM."
"Alright, I think I've seen enough." Dad gets up and eyes the boys sternly. "I dunno what you've been doing with my child, but it's gonna stop, you understand? I've got a homicide detective on speed dial because of you clowns."
"Is this where they get their assertiveness from?" speculated Levi to Beel, who simply shrugged.
"Listen, I think you're all just...misunderstanding each other!" Son of Gardonus, where are you even supposed to start? You grab the nearest demon---
(Individual brothers are below the cut!)
Lucifer
"This is Lucifer."
He gives you a look that says 'you really are as stupid as I've sometimes feared'. Why didn't you come up with a fake name?
"That was a joke."
Good, things are still salvageable.
"Because following his instructions is a lot like being in Hell."
He hates you.
"If that's the devil, then call me a sinner," your aunt says, sipping her third glass of wine.
"His real name is Boris."
He hates you so much.
"Pretty well-dressed for a man who spent a year on the road," observes your Mom with undisguised distrust. "Let me guess: while you were out gathering food and panhandling to survive, he stayed indoors doing whatever the hell he felt like doing, and at the end of the day, you'd take everything you'd earned and hand it over to him, and he'd toss you some pittance in return."
"How does she know that?!" Mammon gasps.
You try explaining to your mom that there was no cult, but she hushes you remorselessly.
You beg Lucifer with your eyes not to kill your entire family please. It seems to work.
Mammon
"Mammon, these are my parents. Mom, Dad, this is Mammon. Mammon, say hello."
"Hello. Agh! Dammit! You're really gonna use that now?!"
Oops. Pact magic. It can be a little unpredictable at times. You ruffle his hair apologetically.
The two of you were pretty much inseparable over the last year, you explain. "Best buds, pretty much." He was the first of the group you got close with. Mammon seems extremely proud of this.
"Please tell me 'best bud' isn't a euphemism, MC." Your dad gives you a pleading look. "I don't know how many more surprises I can take today." You two seem far too affectionate and touchy-feely for his liking.
Your sister grins at him from her seat on the floor, which seems to embarrass and confuse him tremendously. He's refusing to look at her. Poor guy. The two of you do look a lot alike...
Levi
"This is Levi."
"Ah, that almost sounds like a normal name. Why Leh-vee, though? Why don't you pronounce it LEE-vie?
"It's short for Leviathan," he says before you can stop him.
Your sister starts cackling and Levi is very embarrassed and indignant but mostly confused.
"Is this like a cult thing?" your aunt asks. "Naming everyone after biblical demons?" She nods and raises her eyebrows, impressed, and lifts her glass in Lucifer's direction.
"And you've been out roughing it in the great outdoors?" your grandpa asks.
"Errrr..."
"Yes, he has."
"Hmm...." Grandpa stares at Levi without a word, and your sister cackles again, and Levi looks like he'll either start bawling or go full demon and kill everybody in a sort of panicked rage. You return him to his brothers.
Satan
"This is---"
"I'm Derek. Nice to meet you."
You side-eye Satan. Apparently he was not taking any risks of you straight up calling him 'Satan' in front of everyone.
Your sister and aunt both look disappointed by this name, which seems to please Satan a whole lot.
"So," your mom says, thinking this little introduction has gotten off to way too friendly a start, "you're another one of MC's... 'friends', are you?"
"Yep," you say, refusing to acknowledge that there was any innuendo to read into.
"How the hell did you get wrapped up in a cult, Derek?" your aunt asks incredulously. "You look like you came straight from a prep school... Or the Ivies, or something. Kid, let me tell you what." She points a finger at Satan without giving him an opportunity to respond. "Let me tell you, you're gonna kick yourself when you're old and ugly and you realize you wasted your time in a cult looking like you were headed to a game of polo."
"You should've given yourself a cool name like those other guys," your sister throws in.
"Guys, please."
"What? At least the other guys had character. Lucifer, the sexy vampire prince, or something. Mammon, the... Is he a himbo or a bad boy?" ("A himbo," you confirm.) "Mammon, the hellish himbo! Leviathan, a literal fish out of water! But him? This guy's just Derek from IT." Your sister blows a raspberry and gives a thumb down. "Next."
Behind you, you hear Lucifer mutter, "Mammon. Levi. Hold Satan back."
Asmo
"This is Asmo. Please don't tear him a new one, he's---"
Your sister shakes her head. "I would NEVER. This guy looks like so much fun. Like, I'm getting shopping all day, clubbing all night vibes, am I right?"
Asmo winks at your sister, and she blushes. She blushes. You're in awe.
"Hellooooo~! I'm Asmodeus, and it's wonderful to meet you all!"
"You're the one that kissed my grandchild," Grandpa recalls, raising an accusatory finger at him.
"But MC loves when I give them kisses! Surely you all understand, right?"
....
"Right..."
....
Motherfucker, Asmo just charmed your family.
Beel
"This is Beel. Beel, this is...everyone."
"Hi. Good to meet you." Beel is very polite, if a bit uncomfortable.
"Well aren't you a drink of water and a half." You hate your aunt so much sometimes.
Beel frowns. "I'd rather have something a little more filling than water."
You see a look in your aunt's eyes and you jump before she has the chance to strike.
"If you say you're on the menu, Aunt Gina, I swear--"
"What's 'Beel' short for?" your mom asks sternly.
"Beelzebub," Beel answers with an adorable but also infuriating level of innocence.
Your sister is cackling again.
Belphie
Hey, where'd Belphie go?
You look around, confused.
Oh. He wandered to your room while everyone was distracted.
He's sleeping on your bed, hugging your pillow. And drooling on it.
Your relatives stand behind you, observing the scene somberly.
"What's he on?" asks your sister in a whisper. "Like... he's definitely on something, right?"
"Freeloader. That goes for the whole lot of 'em. At least this one is honest about it. Just walks in and treats the place like it's his." Your dad is very annoyed.
"He's got narcolepsy," you insist. You don't know enough about narcolepsy to be sure if that seems like a reasonable excuse, but you're counting on your family not knowing either.
"How the hell did you all get around with a narcoleptic?" your aunt asks, elbowing Lucifer in the ribs. "Hah! Oh, MC, sweetie, I need a refill."
When you manage to get the brothers out of your apartment, you turn around and face your family. They're staring at you.
Your sister breaks the silence. "So like... how many of them have you--?"
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junityy · 9 months
Text
love letters
pairing. bf!jay x gn!reader
synopsis. in which jay reads your first, unfinished attempt at writing a love letter for him by accident.
genre. fluff
wc. 1k
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"I'm back!" you exclaim as you close the door behind you with your foot; unable to use either one of your hands since they're both carrying the grocery bag in your arms, which you didn't even think would be this heavy. Well, you might've gone a little overboard when trying to decide what snacks would be best for tonight; so that'd explain it, at least.
Finally putting the bag on the kitchen counter after the way back here felt like seven years, - when in reality, it was barely ten minutes - you sigh loudly in pure relief.
"Jay?" your voice's tainted with a little confusion; you didn't get any response like you thought you would. Leaving the keys right beside the bag on the counter, you make your way to your bedroom to see what he's up to.
"Hey, I got all the snacks for our-" you pause, and your jaw even drops the tiniest bit when you see Jay sitting on the bed while holding a single piece of paper and, what looks like, reading it. ".. movie night." finishing your sentence, - way quieter than you had started it - Jay finally looks up and meets your eyes.
"Oh I didn't hear you, love." he briefly explains, eyes big as he realizes he didn't hear you coming through the door, nor that you were talking to him just about thirty seconds ago.
"What are you reading?" you ask in a small voice with a slightly nervous undertone, since the paper seems to look a little too familiar for it to be in Jay's hands.. yet. Even from afar.
"Oh- this. Yeah, I found this on the desk earlier. I almost threw it away, but then I saw that it was addressed to me. Y/N is this a love letter?" Jay explains and asks with a tiny smile on his face, sounding only a tad bit confused about the paper in his hands.
And when your eyes widen, his eyes flicker between you and the paper in even bigger confusion and his yet so tiny smile fades. "What?" he asks innocently, eyes big as your reaction makes him feel slightly concerned.
"You weren't supposed to read that." you frown a bit, ready to drown yourself in embarrassment any second now. ".. yet." you almost forgot, but this only made his curiosity grow.
"Oh, this is embarrassing." you mumble to yourself as you walk up to the bed, sitting down in front of him, while his eyes are basically glued to you the whole time.
"I, uhm, couldn't really sleep last night, and then I remembered that you briefly mentioned how you adore love letters a few hours prior." you begin to explain, not even realizing how you're actively avoiding looking at him. "And then I realized that I never wrote you one, like, ever. During all the time we've been together." you add, still a bit saddened by the fact that he never received one from you.
"And so- I got up and.. tried to write one. It's not finished, though. And I thought I put it away, but apparently not.." you continue to explain, shrugging towards the end when you realize you clearly didn't put it away. Writing it at about four in the morning must have made you so tired, you went straight back to bed without noticing it was still on the desk - open for anyone to see and read.
Finally, you look up and meet Jay's eyes. And well, he looks rather surprised, a little shocked even - in a good way, so you assume. His jaw might have dropped just the tiniest bit, and his eyes have not left you still, but now they look even bigger instead.
"I've never written one, like.. in my life." is the last thing you add - as a way to defend yourself in case it was somehow bad by any means; since, well, you barely remember what you even wrote last night.
"I love you." Jay simply scoffs in disbelief, clearly realizing by your change of expression that this is not quite the reaction you were expecting. But still, you're not complaining - hearing him say those three words makes your heartbeat increase an embarrassing amount, like when you first met him and could barely say a word.
And even now, after over two years, you're left speechless again. And so of course, Jay can't help but chuckle; softly grabbing you by the chin to pull you in closer for a short kiss just a second later.
God. You really do feel like when you first met with the way you still get butterflies around him - more and more each day.
"Your letter was beautiful, my love." is the very first thing he says in a low tone after the kiss, your faces still dangerously close and his hand still touching your chin. "I loved it." he adds with a smile, trying to justify just how much he fell in love with those words you wrote. But saying 'he loved it' doesn't seem to be nearly enough.
"I love you." you return, the big smile forming on your face almost impossible to overhear in your voice. Immediately pressing your lips onto his yet again, Jay can't help but smile into the kiss when he can feel you doing so.
"Wait." he suddenly says, breaking the kiss after not too long; your smile fades and confusion overtakes you instead, while Jay's smile only grows bigger by the second.
Sitting straight again, you watch Jay reach down to one of the drawers in the bedside desk, looking for something. When he finds it, he sits straight again and closes the drawer again.
And when your eyes go down to see what's in his hands, you see that it's a bunch of papers just like yours. Except they have much more written on every single one of them; beginning to end of the page, they're full with texts.
Compared to yours, though, every single one of them has a date written at the top.
And instead of being addressed to Jay, they're all addressed to you. Every last one of them.
Your jaw actually drops at the sudden realization, and immediately your head shoots back up - only to find an even bigger smile on Jay's face now. He chuckles at your reaction as it's adorable to him. And also at the fact that he just pulled all these out at once.
"I wrote you a bunch over the years."
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note. JUNITYYS FIRST EVER WORK AFTER NOVEMBER 2021 and ofc its jay 😭😭😭 so hello again! not sure just How back i am again but i wanna try and write more again!! (just keep in mind that i WILL 99% still be inconsistent as hell and just post much Much random stuff please, thank you 😸🙏🏻) - also i hope this drabble layout is somewhat fine LMFAO i forgot how you do all this and also tumblr is acting up </3
taglist @tyunni @geombyu @jaeyunverse
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koishua · 1 year
Text
not—𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐔𝐕 [ 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 ]
what they would never, ever tell you!!
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fluff. gn!reader. no warnings. like, reblog, feedback!
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✧ heeseung has never told you this, but he'd actually tried sixteen times to muster up the courage to ask for your number and a date. it had taken him an entire year, sixteen tries, and five meltdowns to finally approach you and not instantly turn back around in a moment of weakness. he would never tell you that, however, because he thinks that you believe him to be a suave man. what you don't have the heart to tell heeseung is that jay had snitched on him and his various failures. you think it's adorable, so when you first teased him with this information, he'd gone pink as the cotton candies in your hands.
✧ jay will take this secret to his grave and not for reasons you may think. it had been two years into your relationship with him preparing sweet little lunch boxes for you to enjoy during your days of working and it had just occurred to you that he must have payed an honestly concerning amount of money on your groceries. when you had asked him about it, he'd laughed, shaken his head and brushed it off. this was the one thing in life he would want to do without a single payment back. he simply loves you to the moon and back, unconditionally. let him keep at least this to himself.
✧ jake was the person who'd bring stacks of well-taken and organized copies of his notes and put it under your desk back when you were at school. the mysterious, generous note giver had never revealed themselves to you for years. the writings on the papers were the biggest reason why you were so successful those years and it had crushed you not being able to thank the person properly other than stick-it notes you'd past under your desk for them to see whenever they came by. four years later when you'd reunited with jake and started a relationship with him, you realize how awfully familiar the handwriting looks.
✧ sunghoon would rather dive off a cliff than to explain what the clanging sounds in the kitchen for the past two weeks has been all about. you weren't allowed to enter it to help him with whatever he was doing, too. it would be your birthday soon and he'd fought tooth and nail to get every ingredient he'd ever need in order to make you the world's best birthday cake yet. the issue was the fact that he didn't know how to bake— not a single clue under the roof. so, he's taken it upon himself to practice making cakes every day until he could get it right. so far, every attempt has been a total failure. he still has a few days, so until then, he swears you off the kitchen.
✧ sunoo had written a few lengthy love letters to you as a child, not that he would ever tell you. he was eight years old and a hopeless romantic. he would spend hours coming up with rhymes for his poems about you and include them in the letters confessing his love for you. he was utterly smitten and charmed by your cute littles smiles (still is now). he'd never sent them to you, though, in fear of rejection, so he'd hid the notes in a box under his bedroom. ten years later, you were hanging out in the very same childhood bedroom and your feet hit a plastic box in the corner of his room. once sunoo sees the box and remembers about the contents in it, he feels absolutely mortified.
✧ jungwon was popular all throughout his childhood and teen years with many admirers, boys and girls alike. he was, however, thought to be uninterested in any romance, because he would instantly reject anyone that approached him. the small detail that no one knows about is how he'd walk the same route home a few times a day in hopes of one day catching your eyes from behind window as he'd pass by. no matter which clothes he wore or how he'd styled his hair, his subtle attempts would never work. months of hard work and the only thing that had worked was just going up to the counter with a box of juice and a small paper with a series of digits written on it.
✧ riki is a prideful boy and it would destroy his fragile ego if you knew how he'd stayed up a few nights and searched for tips on how to make someone like you on google's incognito mode. he was clueless and desperate to get you to like him as much as he liked you, so he'd scrolled through many wiki hows and blog articles. he even took a compatibility test to see how you matched and he prayed that you wouldn't ask why he was asking for your time of birth and star sign. you didn't ask, thankfully, and you did end up reciprocating his feelings in the end, but only because he'd charmed his way to your heart on his own— not because of wikihow's tips.
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fettuccinealfred0 · 2 months
Text
Til Death Do Us Part | Part 6
Series Masterlist
Astarion x f!reader, Arranged Marriage AU
Word Count: 14.5k
(CW: SMUT 18+, vampire biting/blood drinking, unprotected p in v sex)
Summary:
“Fine, you want honesty?” Astarion's voice takes on a desperate, forlorn quality. “I ache for you down to my very soul. I feel as if my heart is clawing its way out of my chest and I’m powerless to stop it. Love is a sickness and you have infected me and for that, I despise you and I despise myself for ever being so weak.”
He sounds half like he’s accusing you and half like he’s exalting you. 
“I have experienced the worst forms of torture and yet, this past week without you has made me wish my suffering had a tangible wound,” he continues. “My heart does not beat and yet I feel it flutter in my chest when you are near. I do not need to breathe and yet I feel as if I am suffocating when we are apart. You are stubborn and impudent and reckless. You are lovely and clever and kind, beneath it all. I fear I will spend the rest of my life trying to fall out of love with you.”
Trying to fall... out of love with you. Which means... he's currently in love with you.
Read on ao3 here.
You hardly ever see Astarion anymore. It feels as if you’re simply going through the motions of your life, trapped in a haze. 
Obviously I haven’t been thinking clearly from the blood loss or I would have never let you touch me! 
You shouldn’t have spoken to him like that. It wasn’t even true. 
In reality, you greedily took every scrap of affection that Astarion was willing to offer you. But he had been cutting at your heart so painfully and the only way you knew how to make it stop was to make him hurt, too. 
You miss him. 
You hadn’t noticed how Astarion had managed to become such a fixture in your life in such a short amount of time. You hadn’t realized how accustomed you had become to his presence until you were forced to feel its absence. It seems every corner of the manor is tainted by Astarion’s ghost. 
You sit by yourself at meals, eating but not tasting. You stare at books in the library without really reading. You take yourself on walks in the garden that are meant to cheer you up but end up making you cry when you see how the moonflowers had been trimmed back for winter. The bush was almost unrecognizable. It felt like some disgusting metaphor for the state of your marriage, which Astarion had cut and brutalized into something hideous.
Halsin finds you that afternoon- crumpled in a heap on the ground, hands caked in dirt from where you had been digging the plant out by the root. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls you into his warm arms and lets you sob into his shoulder, dampening his shirt until you run out of tears.
The comforting embrace of sleep does not offer any reprieve from your anguish, either. Without Astarion, sleep eludes you and you spend your time twisting and turning in the sheets, craving Astarion’s cool touch. 
Even the bed in your room feels foreign to you. After spending so many nights together in Astarion’s, your room feels empty and lifeless. It’s yet another reminder of how suddenly Astarion had cast you aside. Another reminder that he didn’t need you- that he had found someone better, someone who wasn’t so desperate.
The days and nights blur together, endless and unrelenting. Time is determined to sweep you along in her current even if you’d rather drown. 
Shadowheart forces you to at least rise out of bed and get dressed every day. You can tell she’s growing concerned about how little sleep you seem to be getting. The circles under your eyes are growing darker with every passing day. 
About a week after your fight with Astarion, you find one of his shirts folded in between your chemises. When you look at Shadowheart inquisitively, she just shrugs her shoulders. You know this is her way of acknowledging that she has done this for you, that she has slipped you one of his shirts from the wash in an attempt to help you feel better. 
When you’re alone that night, you lift the white muslin material to your nose and the sweet, familiar smell of bergamot and rosemary sends you into a tailspin. He has forever ruined those scents for you, they will forever be tied to him. 
You clutch onto the fabric like a lifeline, holding it against your chest as if that will miraculously ease the aching in your heart. As you rub the soft material between your fingers, your thumb catches on a patch of raised thread at the hem of the shirt and you find small, evenly stitched letters lining the bottom of the shirt in pale red thread. It’s masterful work. Had Astarion embroidered this into his shirt himself? 
You recall your wedding dress, with the shimmery gold embroidered flowers and how Astarion had seemed so concerned whether you liked it or not. Had that been his work, too?
It all terrifies you- to think you were in love with someone and to realize that you hardly knew them at all. And how well you thought you knew him, too... All your careful studying was for naught. 
You finally focus on the words sewn into the shirt. Clearly, they must be important to him if he felt the need to sew them into his innermost layer of clothing. 
Lamentable is the autumn picker content with plums.
The words are beautiful and fill you with a deep melancholy.
Oh. Is that how Astarion saw you? A late season plum with no taste, the unwanted scraps given to the poor. 
He had cast you aside because he felt he deserved better than some foolish girl with romantic dreams and clumsy hands. You were bland. You were desperate. He wanted someone experienced, someone with taste- a ripe, juicy pear that would satisfy any autumn picker. 
Lamentable is poor Astarion, you sneer to yourself, for being content with a boring, easy wife who dared to love him.
The words are a second gaping wound to your already damaged heart. It feels as if they had cut down to your very bones. And still, you curl helplessly around the shirt in bed, desperate for sleep to claim you so that you could have a momentary reprieve from this suffering. 
The more Astarion avoids you, the more your sadness begins to turn into a familiar anger. 
Does he truly respect you so little that he would so callously remove himself from your life? Who is he to pretend these past few months meant nothing to him? 
For when you were wrapped together at night, did he not caress you so softly like you always imagined a lover would? Did he not kiss you with the reverence of a man worshiping his deity? 
Even Astarion is not that good of an actor. 
“I’m not sure how much longer I can continue like this,” you whisper to Shadowheart one morning, when you hardly recognize your haggard, pained reflection in the mirror. It had not even been a fortnight since your fight and the prospect of living with this heartbreak much longer seems exhausting. 
“You still haven’t even told me what the two of you are fighting about,” Shadowheart says, rolling her eyes. “Who can stay away from each other the longest? Which one of you loves the other more? There are never any winners in those types of games.”
“Astarion isn’t capable of love.” You repeat the words to her that have become your mantra, “You have to have a heart to be able to love.”
Shadowheart huffs out a laugh, “Please. I’m not stupid. Anyone with half a brain can tell he loves y-”
“Stop,” you interrupt. 
You must remind yourself that she doesn’t know what he has said. Although Astarion’s words seem to repeat in a vicious loop in your mind, you didn’t dare speak them aloud. You were still too embarrassed by how cruelly he had thrown you aside, too ashamed of how desperately you still needed him. 
She doesn’t know that her words are yet another reminder that even if at some point Astarion did hold some scrap of affection for you, he had grown tired of you since then. 
“The Lord’s been miserable, too,” Shadowheart says, attempting to comfort you. 
“He doesn’t get to be miserable. Not when he-” you cut yourself off. Not when he was the one who ripped the beating heart out of my chest and crushed it into dust. Not when he was the one to replace you. 
“Well, Gale said the wine cellar has been decimated,” Shadowheart offers you a friendly smile, as if she’s just offered you up a salacious bit of gossip. 
It just makes your skin crawl to know they’ve been talking about you behind your back- that her and Gale have been comparing notes about your and Astarion’s misery.
“Glad to know he’s been drinking himself stupid while I’ve been miserable,” you scoff.
“That’s not what I meant.” Shadowheart sighs in frustration. “Gods, you two are perfect for each other. You’re both prideful idiots.”
—------------
You nearly run over Astarion a couple days later as he trudges down the hallway with his shoulders hunched and a haunted look on his face. Other than Shadowheart’s report from Gale that Astarion had been drinking through his collection of expensive wines, you’re not sure what he’s been up to since your fight. He spends nearly all his time locked away in his study.
And admittedly, Astarion looks as bad as you feel when you see him. It’s a rather stark transformation for someone who normally takes so much pride in their appearance. 
When was the last time he bathed? His beautiful curls are all askew, greasy and unwashed. And he’s obviously starving. His skin is pale and ashen, the dark circles under his eyes are too prominent. That lovely pink undertone to his skin that appears after he’s fed is missing. Gone are the days of pretty flushed cheeks as he looks up at you from between your thighs.
He told you that he didn’t want to drink from you anymore. Had yelled at you that he had found someone else, someone better, as he nearly chased you out of the room. 
So then why did he look this miserable?
You’re unsure what to do, torn between reaching out to pull him into a hug and that anger burning in you that’s a little bit satisfied at his suffering.
You know Astarion can see the shock on your face. And after so long of dedicated study, you know his mind almost as well as your own and so you know that he’s probably interpreting your surprise as pity. 
He growls at you, baring his fangs in warning as he shoves past you. The sound of his study door being slammed hangs heavy in the air while you stand frozen, skin still tingling where his shoulder had brushed against yours. 
Your body still calls out to him, even now.
Your feet move seemingly of their own accord, taking you to the study. You try the doorknob, but it’s predictably locked, so you raise your hand to knock at the door. When Astarion doesn’t answer, you pull a pin out of your hair and wiggle it into the lock. Desperate times call for desperate measures. 
“Get out!” He growls at you when the door swings open. 
You think he might throw the book he’s holding at you. It makes you waver- this man who is so similar to you, who lashes out when he’s scared and feels small. It’s the same response you had that first morning after you were imprisoned, when Shadowheart had entered your room. 
You wilt a bit under his gaze, his fiery red eyes looking at you with something akin to… hatred. 
Ignoring the way your heart feels as if it is freezing inside your chest, you square your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intensity of his stare. 
“No. You don’t get to tell me what to do!” You say and Astarion rolls his eyes in disgust.
“Oh, don’t act like a child,” he sneers back at you.
You cross your arms in the most unchildlike way you can manage and resist from stomping your foot on the ground in frustration. 
“I am not the one who has been acting like a child here.”
“Gods, what do you want from me?” Astarion yells. 
His response nearly makes you laugh. Since when has he ever cared what you wanted? He didn’t care when he forced you to marry him. He didn’t care when he rejected you right after you had opened up to him. Even now, as he asks you directly, you doubt he will truly listen to you. 
No, Astarion is only capable of caring for himself. It doesn’t matter how many people he has to hurt to get what he wants.
But you watch as he deflates almost immediately, his anger turning into fatigue as his hands come up to massage at his temples like he’s got the worst headache in the world. When he speaks again, he just sounds like a broken man, “I told you that whatever was between us is done.” 
“I want you to stop pretending like I don’t exist! I want you to be honest with me for once! I want-” You cut yourself off, chest heaving. 
I want you. 
The truth that you cannot ignore, the truth that doesn’t dissipate even in your darkest moments.
“You want honesty?” Astarion scoffs. “I’ve been honest with you!”
You bristle. 
“You lied to me when we first met! You chased me down and threatened me and then didn't kill me. You run around all the time whispering in the shadows with strange people that don’t work here. You go on weird business trips and come back on the brink of death. You tell me you hate me and want me gone from your life and then mope around like I’m the one who broke your heart. Everything you do is a lie!”
“I never said that I hate you,” is all Astarion says in response. 
“That’s the only thing you got out of everything I just said? That was like the least important detail!” You shout back at him, incredulous. 
Of course, he continues to evade all the very real issues you have just mentioned. You decide that you will offer him one last chance to be honest.
“Tell me the truth,” you spit out through gritted teeth. “Or at least tell me to my face that you never want to see me again and I’ll be gone by morning.”
Please, you think, say the words. Then, you can be gone from this place and can somehow try to salvage a life without Astarion. But you cannot stay here any longer and suffer. You cannot bear to continue to live as a ghost. You cannot watch as he gives his happiness to another. 
But you know Astarion. You know when you’ve caught him. There’s that momentary shock in his face before his jaw locks in frustration. 
“You’re a nuisance,” he says, but his words don’t hold the usual fervor. 
“I am,” you agree. “So why didn’t you just kill me the night we met? You could’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble.”
“It would have been a crime to take your beauty away from the world,” Astarion says, but the answer seems too rehearsed. You doubt you’re the first person to hear this line. 
“No, I want a real reason!” You demand.
“What do you want me to say?” He cries out, palms slamming loudly against the desk. He’s nearly frantic as his red eyes bore into you- desperate, pleading. “That perhaps you reminded me of myself? That perhaps I am indeed very lonely and you’re the first interesting person I’ve met in years? And here I was, presented with this opportunity to have you. Only a fool would say no to that.”
“I’m a person, Astarion. I am not something that can be kept.”
“And you never let me forget it,” he says, chuckling darkly. 
“Fine, you want honesty?” His voice takes on a desperate, forlorn quality. “I ache for you down to my very soul. I feel as if my heart is clawing its way out of my chest and I’m powerless to stop it. Love is a sickness and you have infected me and for that, I despise you and I despise myself for ever being so weak.”
He sounds half like he’s accusing you and half like he’s exalting you. 
“I have experienced the worst forms of torture and yet, this past week without you has made me wish my suffering had a tangible wound,” he continues. “My heart does not beat and yet I feel it flutter in my chest when you are near. I do not need to breathe and yet I feel as if I am suffocating when we are apart. You are stubborn and impudent and reckless. You are lovely and clever and kind, beneath it all. I fear I will spend the rest of my life trying to fall out of love with you.”
Trying to fall… out of love with you. Which means… he’s currently in love with you.
“You love me?” You ask in disbelief.
Although your heart is singing in your chest, chirping and trilling how it always does when Astarion grants you any affection, your mind is clouded by anger. You can tell by the shock on Astarion’s own face that he half-expected you to be placated by his words and did not anticipate that you would turn on him.
“Then what the fuck was the other night about?” You shout. “Because, remember, it was you who pushed me away. It was you who told me that you had found someone new and cast me aside like I was no better than the dirt under your boot. It was you who called me easy and shamed me for my desires.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Astarion crumples in on himself, head hanging in his hands. “And then there were all the times I took advantage of you in your compromised state. I’m sorry. There will never be enough words to tell you how sorry I am. You should hate me for what I’ve done to you.”
He’s practically on the verge of tears. And although Astarion deserves to suffer your wrath far longer, you rush to wrap him in your arms because you are weak and cannot bear to see him in pain. He sags into your embrace immediately. 
“I should have never said that. I’m sorry, Astarion. I assure you, I was a very conscious, very willing participant in all our evenings together. You just- you vex me.” You huff out a frustrated breath. “You’re like a puzzle with pieces missing. And every time I think I’m starting to see the picture, someone comes along and messes it all up again. I feel as though I’m being driven to the point of madness.”
With your hands on his cheeks, you move his head from where it is tucked against your chest, forcing him to look into your eyes. You need him to hear what you are saying, to feel the words down to his very bones. “You must know I never meant it when I said that I wasn’t clear headed.” 
“I just…” you take a deep breath, attempting to collect your thoughts. Astarion’s eyes are desperately searching your face. You cannot tell if he is more scared at the prospect that you are telling the truth or that you are lying. 
You speak, gently tracing your thumb down Astarion’s sharp cheekbone. “It felt as if you had frozen my heart inside my chest and I needed you to stop talking, to stop reminding me that I don’t mean as much to you as you do to me. The only way I knew to do that was to make you hurt, too. But you must know I treasure every moment we spend together, every book we read, every night we share. Whenever you…” you trail off, a bit shy. “Touched me, I was painfully, blissfully aware of every moment. I asked for you to share yourself with me because I wanted you. I will always want you.”
“If anything, the blood loss just made it all the more exciting,” you place Astarion’s hand over your chest so he can feel the beating of your heart. “Had my heart racing nearly as fast as it is right now.”
Astarion breathes out a breathy, astonished laugh and you’re sure he can feel the way your heart stutters in response.
“You are my north star, Astarion,” you say with a soft smile on your face. “You are the gentle light that guides me home, that helps me remember myself in the dark.”
“You really mean that?” Astarion asks, looking up at you with adoration.
“I love you. Every beat of my heart is for you.” 
And, in fact, perhaps you had loved him since the moment you first danced with him. Love and hate are very similar emotions, indeed. 
Astarion’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, a wide smile on his lips. He’s radiant, like the stars in the night sky- something whose beauty could never be captured by something so mundane as oil on canvas, something who’s beauty could only ever be experienced. 
“Are you going to be insufferable now that I’ve admitted that?” you ask and Astarion tips his head back to let out a loud laugh. It’s perhaps the hardest you’ve ever seen him laugh.
“Absolutely, my love,” he murmurs, leaning up to press a soft kiss to the side of your mouth. He continues peppering your face with kisses between each word as he says, “Completely and utterly insufferable.”
“I need you to promise me something.” You catch his face between your palms again so he is looking into your eyes. “If- if you still want this to work, if you still want me, I need you to promise that you’re going to be honest with me from now on. About everything.”
He frowns for a moment and you can see him thinking. Apparently, you had found the dealbreaker in his love.
“I swear on my life,” he finally says with a little smile.
You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re not technically alive.” 
“It’s a figure of speech, darling.” He rolls his eyes, but you can tell he’s a bit disappointed he didn’t get away with it. Damned lawyer. “I swear, full honesty from this point forward.”
“Thank you.”
“But I need you to promise me something in return,” Astarion says, turning serious. 
“Anything,” you promise.
One of Astarion’s hands comes up to cup your own cheek and his cool skin sends a little shiver down your spine. “In the future, if you ever do decide you want us to be intimate again, we save my feeding until after. It’s important to me that you’re able to think clearly. That you’re able to say no.”
Okay, well, you hate that idea. Apparently he had also managed to find the one condition you were unwilling to agree to. 
“I don’t want to agree to that because I like it when you drink from me. It’s… exhilarating.” There’s nothing quite so electrifying as the feeling of your lifeblood being pulled from your veins, knowing that it will be used to nourish Astarion’s own body. You attempt to negotiate, though you are sure Astarion will be unimpressed with your skills, “So, I propose an amendment- we check in with each other before we do anything? Just so I can assure you that I am a level-headed, very willing participant.”
“Those are terms I can agree to.”
Astarion’s finally pulls you down into a kiss. Your lips slide against each other’s and it tastes faintly salty, though you’re unsure if the tears belonged to you or Astarion. 
“I love you,” you murmur against his mouth and he’s descending again, hungrier. Your hands move up to curl in his hair and Astarion has wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to straddle him on the chair. 
It’s one of those toe-curling kisses that has you feel like your very soul is leaving your body, that has you feel like the very essence of your beings are singing together in harmony. 
“Say it again,” he commands in a low rumble. And, oh, you like that low, commanding voice he gives you. You can feel your thighs tighten around Astarion, feel the way his hand claws at the fabric of your dress.
“I love you,” you say before your lips press against each other again. You let your tongue trace along one of his fangs, snagging just enough so that you can taste the bitter, metallic tang of blood. Astarion becomes ravenous as he licks into your mouth. 
You kiss, over and over again, until you are satisfied that Astarion is assured just how willing and enthusiastic of a participant you truly are. 
“I love you, too,” he breathes and you can feel how his lips curl up into a smile. 
When you finally part from him long enough to see his face, he looks all wrong as you push his greasy curls off his forehead.
“You need a bath.” You wrinkle your nose and Astarion chuckles.
“You’ll join me?” He asks in a rich, deep voice as he gives you a devilish smile.
You stand up and hold out your hand to him, “Come, pretty boy, let me take care of you.”
“Oh, I have no doubt you will,” he says and his arm wraps around you from behind so he can catch you, playfully nipping at your neck. You laugh as you detangle yourself from his arms.
The servants swarm to set up a bath in Astarion’s room and you watch in the corner with him, a bit embarrassed that all the servants know you will be bathing together.
When you are finally alone, you help Astarion out of his clothes first. He doesn’t really need help, but it’s nice to take care of him for once. A little shiver runs up his spine when your fingers ghost against his stomach as you help him pull off his shirt. 
When he turns around to check the water, you see the huge scar on his back. It’s massive, spanning the entirety of his back. How have you never noticed this before? You had seen Astarion naked. Evidently, he had taken great care so far as to not let you see the scar. You can’t help but wonder why he had been hiding it from you and why he suddenly was allowing you to see it?
Your hands reach out to trace the patterns and Astarion jumps, but lets you continue. You’ve seen this pattern before, on the drawing you found in his study the day you broke in. And because Astarion cannot see his own reflection in a mirror, that must be the only way he knows what his scar looks like. 
“How did you get this?” you ask, horrified by the pain he has suffered. You try to keep your fingers light against the jagged tissue, unsure of how sensitive the skin is. 
You can see the wheels turning in his head and you know a lie is about to spew out of his mouth.
“Honest,” you make him promise. 
He swallows hard and nods. “The man who turned me was cruel. This is a relic of that past. I don’t like to talk about it.”
And because you are trying to trust him, you respect him enough to not ask about the past he had just told you was too painful to bring up. Though, if he’s answering questions, you might as well try to get at least some new information out of him. 
“And the trips?”
His words are careful when he speaks. Like he’s being honest, but not giving you the full truth. “Just business. Sometimes we go to dangerous areas. I take Karlach, Lae’zel, or Wyll with me for protection.”
You’re satisfied enough with that answer and thoroughly distracted when Astarion’s fingers begin to slowly undo the buttons down the back of your dress. Unfortunately, you still haven't been able to master those slippery little devils. Astarion seems content with taking his time on the task- letting his fingers trail teasingly along your spine and occasionally dropping soft kisses along your shoulder. It’s maddening. 
Your corset somehow manages to take twice as long as the buttons on the dress. Astarion seems perfectly happy to let the bath water grow cold as he runs his fingers over every inch of the satiny ribbon that ties the garment to your body. 
When you’re finally undressed, Astarion steps into the tub and settles back in the hot water, resting his head on the edge of the tub with a sigh. 
It’s awkward- you aren’t sure how you’re supposed to position yourself in the large bathtub. Sitting in his lap seems too direct. But you need to make up your mind quickly. Even with the warm fire burning in the room and the steam rising from the hot water of the tub, your bare skin is growing cold the longer you take to decide. 
After you step into the tub, you sit on the opposite side, facing Astarion. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you chew on your lip. You’re nervous- partially because you’re a bit new to showing so much skin around a man and partially because you aren’t sure how much you’re allowed to touch Astarion. You aren’t used to this level of physical intimacy. You had only seen Astarion’s body once before and you had been so caught up in the haze of how silky soft the skin of his cock had felt against your hand and how his eyes were screwed so tightly shut with pleasure that you hadn’t really gotten that good of a peak at what said cock actually looked like. 
And that night had ended… poorly, to say the least. 
“Gone shy, pet? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Astarion says with a cheeky smile. 
You love him, your heart sings. He’s reverting back to that easy banter, trying to help make you more comfortable. Gently, Astarion tugs on your arm and guides you into his lap.
“See,” he leans his forehead against yours, “much better.”
“Much,” you agree, knocking your nose against his before you remind him, “you need blood.”
“Are you offering?”
“Always,” you tease. Astarion’s eyes are hungry as he watches you tilt your neck to the side for him. 
“Devilish woman.” His eyes crackle dangerously, all crimson and fire. It’s a total contradiction to how softly his hand cradles the back of your head as he leans down to your neck.
He presses a long kiss to your skin. The simple act nearly brings tears to your eyes. For weeks, you had let Astarion drink from you. For weeks, he would kiss you so gently before he dug his teeth into your skin- an act of apology, an act of worship. An act of love. 
So much had changed this evening. Your worldview completely shifted, yet again, as you grew accustomed to the idea that Astarion loved you. With every heartbeat, you are reminded- he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. And yet, that one little habit remained the same. 
The soft cold of Astarion’s lips gives way to that familiar sting, to that chill that seeps down to your very bones. You fight to orient yourself for a moment, inhaling deeply to focus. The coldness fades. The familiar lick of desire burns bright within you. 
Astarion’s cool tongue swirling against your skin does nothing to tamper the heat growing within you and the arm he has wrapped around your waist tightens, dragging you in even closer. You feel him everywhere and still, you need more- it’s not enough.
Too quickly, always too quickly, Astarion parts from the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving one last kiss on the hollow of your throat. 
When you look at him, he’s got that gooey, drunk look in his eyes like he always does after he’s fed. The pinkish tint has returned to his cheeks and the tips of his ears now that he’s got some blood in his system and you feel a sense of pride bloom within you.
I did that, you think, that was me.
Astarion reaches his thumb out to swipe up a stripe of blood that must have been leftover from the bite mark on your neck, runny like blood always is when mixed with water. His pretty pink lips close around his thumb as he lewdly sucks it into his mouth. Your mind goes blank as you watch him, entranced. 
“Delicious,” Astarion says with a wicked grin. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you.
“I’m not too bland for you?” You ask, repeating his words from the fight back at him. You’re teasing him, mostly, but that jealous, insecure part of you deep down is looking for his reassurance. “I’m not the late autumn plum that you lament picking?”
“What are you talking about?” Astarion looks at you, brow furrowed in confusion. It takes him a moment before his expression clears and he laughs. He has the audacity to laugh at you. “That’s not what that poem’s about at all, darling. How did you even know about that? Is that why my shirt went missing?”
“That’s not… important… right now…” you say, feeling your face heat up. Astarion’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, tracing his thumb gently over your cheek bone. 
“Do you want to know what that poem means?” He asks, in perhaps the quietest, shyest voice you’ve ever heard Astarion speak with. “For many years, I had nothing except my hunger. My own body didn’t even belong to me. What’s lamentable is someone who is content with that life, with living on scraps of rats and insects. The poem is a reminder to me that I had to keep fighting, a reminder that I refuse to be broken.”
Astarion leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. “You remind me so much of myself, little flower. Your will and your determination, even in a losing fight. That’s what drew me to you that night we first met. In the face of certain death, you couldn’t resist telling me I was wrong.”
You laugh. He’s right, of course- you do love telling people when they are wrong. 
“In truth, your blood is the best I’ve ever had. I fear I have tasted perfection,” he says, letting his nose dip down to trace along your neck. You shiver, keenly aware of how your cunt is resting tantalizingly against one of Astarion’s thighs. All it would take is a little roll of your hips to provide some sweet relief.
But Astarion still needs a bath and your neck still stings a bit. You know from experience the stinging of the twin bites on your skin will last a while longer, so you distract yourself by wetting a hard bar of soap in your hands. You run the soap over Astarion, working it into a lather on his skin.
It’s an excuse to touch him. You know this. He knows this. Neither of you are complaining. 
You take a moment to stroke along the muscles that run from his neck to his shoulders, chasing away some of the knots and sore spots that had developed after so many days hunched over a desk. Astarion lets out content little hums as you work, his eyes slowly falling shut. 
You move to his arms, which he’s draped elegantly over the side of the tub as if in preparation for your work. Moving the soap, you trace along those beautiful, pale blue veins all the way down to the inside of his wrist. Bringing his hand to your mouth, you press a soft kiss to each of his fingertips before repeating the same pattern on his other arm.
When you wash his hair, Astarion practically melts into your hands. It reminds you of Tara how he purrs when you let your nails scratch gently against his scalp.
“Tilt your head back,” you instruct him. You let the water run through his white curls and wash the soap away.
When he comes back up, the two of you just stare at each other for a moment before you’re falling together. It’s one of those hungry kisses that leave you wanting more. All teeth and tongue crashing against one another. One of Astarion’s hands palms at your ass, pulling you closer to him. You tug on Astarion’s lower lip with your teeth and you feel the growl reverberating in his chest. 
Astarion’s length is hard where it presses against your stomach. You move your hand under the water, aching to touch that satiny soft skin again. Astarion deftly catches your hand, intertwining your fingers with his own. 
You huff, frustrated. He always did this. It was as if he thought he didn’t deserve pleasure, too. Or thought you were inexperienced and incapable of giving it to him. You wanted to learn how to please him, desperately, but he was always batting your hands away. 
“Are you truly so cruel you would deny your wife this simple pleasure?” You ask, trying your best to pout in that way that always makes Astarion cave and give you what you want. 
“You’re dramatic,” Astarion brings your entwined fingers up to kiss the back of your hand. “And I’m not cruel. I just refuse to let the first time I have you be in a lukewarm bath. I intend to savor every moment and for that, I will need much more space.”
Astarion speaks in that husky, arrogant voice that sends a shock of electricity straight to your cunt and has you clenching around nothing. 
You try to move a bit and end up banging one of your elbows painfully into the side of the tub. Okay, maybe he has a point. More space would be good. Even if you ache to feel him inside and don’t want to wait.
He helps you out of the tub and your legs are a bit shaky, which puts a self-satisfied smirk on Astarion’s face. He finishes towel drying his hair, curls messy and beautiful as the wet locks lay flat against his skin. His towel drapes around his shoulders and you use it to pull him down for a kiss, your tongues sliding against one another. You feel Astarion’s hands against the back of your thighs and he’s lifting you off your feet so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You’re keenly aware of how your cunt rubs against the thatch of hair at the end of his navel as he walks you over to the bed and gently sets you down on it. 
Astarion kisses down your stomach and you know where he’s going. You cup your hand around his cheek, guiding his face up to look at you.
“Need you,” you practically whine. It’s annoying, how Astarion is able to turn you into this needy little child, how your very being is addicted to him.
“I know just what you need,” he gives you another kiss above your hip bone and you whine again.
“No.” You’re trying to pull him back up now, hands grabbing at his shoulders and arms, trying to settle his weight on top of you again. “Need you to fuck me.”
“Oh? How can I refuse when you beg so sweetly?” He has that sinful look on his face that makes you ravenous for him. “But you’ll have to wait,” Astarion says, moving to settle between your thighs. “You need to be ready so it won’t hurt. And besides, I’ve missed your taste. You won’t deny your husband that, will you?”
He probably has a point. You had barely been able to fully wrap your hand around his cock when you had touched him. And the most you had ever taken inside yourself was, what? Two of Astarion’s beautiful, dexterous fingers? And those already had you feeling stretched to a point where you thought you might shatter.
Astarion’s tongue swirls on your inner thigh, tracing over the faint bruise left from the last time he bit you. He blows cool air over your cunt that has you nearly jumping out of your skin. It forces you to be painfully aware of how wet you are. But Astarion quickly takes pity on you and his cool mouth presses a soft kiss against your cunt before his tongue is darting out, licking so wonderfully. 
Gods, the miracles he can perform with his tongue are sacrilegious. 
Astarion eats you out like his very life depends on it. And when he slowly slips one, and then two, and then three fingers into you, your worldview shrinks to red eyes looking up at you hungrily from between your thighs. 
There’s that familiar warmth rising in your stomach as your trembling hands clutch onto Astarion’s damp hair like a lifeline. A distant part of you laughs about how his normally perfect curls will be a mess when his hair dries. 
With Astarion’s lovely fingers curling inside you and his tongue dancing against your clit, you settle into the warmth that seeps into your bones.
"So good," you manage to pant out when his tongue moves in a particularly delicious way. You feel the coil tightening in your belly before it snaps, waves of pleasure rolling over you as you climax.
When you’ve finally started breathing normally again, Astarion crawls up your body like a fucking predator and you’re practically drooling over him. As he moves, his leg catches yours and he hooks your knee over his thigh, draaaging your leg up with his own.
You’ve never been this aroused in your life. You feel like putty in Astarion’s hands- his to mold and move and control how he wants you. And you know Astarion’s noticed the effect it’s had on you, too. You see that arrogant gleam in his eye that lets you know you are dangerously feeding into his already inflated ego.
And he knows what he’s doing. In this position, he’s opened up your cunt that much further and his own hard cock is pressed against your center. It’s wet- gods, it’s almost obscene how wet it is. And the way Astarion’s cool skin rubs against your most sensitive spots sends a delightful shiver down your spine.
“Astarion-” you manage to choke out. “If you don’t fuck me soon, I think I’m going to die.”
“Perish the thought, dearest, I’d never let that happen.” He says in that cocky, teasing tone that lets you know he’s enjoying this too much.
He stops moving and grips your chin with his hand. You mewl, letting him force you to look at him. His eyes have softened and his face is so open and loving that you think your heart might very well flutter out of your chest and settle inside Astarion’s own rib cage.
“You’re good?” He asks, voice gone soft with concern. 
“So good,” you try to roll your hips against his, ignoring your confusion at his complete change in tone. But at this point, if you don’t have him inside you in the next minute, you think you might spontaneously combust.
“Not what I meant,” Astarion chuckles darkly, his grip on your chin tightening just a bit. “You’re clear headed? You promised me we’d check in.”
Oh, that’s right, the promise. 
“All clear,” you say, tapping the side of your head, trying to ease his concerns with a bit of humor. It seems to work based on the gentle grin that tilts up one corner of his mouth. You focus on committing this moment to memory. “How are you?”
A look of shock passes over Astarion’s face for a moment, so quickly that a lesser trained eye might have missed it completely. It makes you wonder if you’re the first person that has ever bothered to ask Astarion if he’s okay. 
“I’m going to remember this forever,” Astarion reassures, like he’s reading your mind. He gives you one more serious look. “Any point you want to stop, tell me and I will. No questions asked.”
How could this man exist? He seems unreal. Your guardian angel perched above you. 
“Same goes for you,” you tell him, turning your head a bit. Astarion loosens his grip on your chin to allow for the motion and you press a kiss to the inside of his palm. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he leans down and kisses your lips, soft and sweet. “You ready?”
You nod and he shifts his weight onto one forearm so he can grab his cock with his hand. He runs the tip along the length of your cunt teasingly and oh, it feels wonderful against your wet folds. Slowly, he starts pushing into you.
You hiss at the initial sting and Astarion pauses immediately, just sitting with the tip of his cock inside you. He’s kissing all over your face, whispering about how ‘you’re doing so well,’ ‘you feel so good I can hardly stand it,’ and ‘think about how good we’re going to make each other feel, my love’ that has the part of you that feeds on Astarion’s praise soaring. When you start to get used to the stretch, you nod again and Astarion presses in a bit further.
It takes what feels like a small eternity before he’s fully inside you. And oh, the stretch, the fullness has you feeling like you’re ready to shatter at any moment.
“Gods, your cunt is perfect. Like you were made for me,” Astarion says, through gritted teeth. It causes liquid fire to shoot through your veins and your cunt clenches around him. You think you actually manage to catch his brain short-circuiting as he lets out a strangled noise that’s a cross between a growl and a moan. 
“Tight… s-so tight. And wet,” Astarion groans, his mouth nearly hanging open. 
You feel a spark of pleasure deep within yourself over seeing this man- who acts so confident and above everyone- nearly disintegrate into a babbling mess from just the feel of your cunt around him. 
And then, Astarion begins to move and it’s you who becomes a babbling mess. The pressure stings a bit at first, but it doesn’t take long for the sweet feeling of pleasure to overwhelm you completely.
His pace feels torturously slow, as if he’s determined to make you feel every wonderful inch moving in and out of you. 
“More,” you plead, trying to move your own hips to speed up the rhythm. “Faster, please.”
Even when he picks up speed, it feels like he’s holding back.
“I won’t break,” you tell him, hooking one of your legs around his hips to urge him that much deeper inside you. 
Astarion listens to you then, finally, and begins thrusting into you at a rhythm that has your mind spinning. His hand snakes down between your bodies, moving to trace tight circles over your clit.
You feel as if you are ascending to the heavens. It should be impossible to feel this good.
And you’re so close to the edge, so close to that precipice of pure bliss.
“So close, Star,” you manage to gasp out. “So good.”
“Let go, little flower,” he says. “Want to feel you.”
Your second orgasm is earth-shattering. The kind of orgasm that makes it feel as if your soul itself is fracturing like beautiful glass inside you. The kind that has you arching your back and digging your nails into Astarion’s skin as you desperately try to tether yourself to reality. 
Astarion fucks you through it, rocking his hips into yours with a clinical precision that has stars dotting at the edges of your vision. 
He slows for a moment and then stops, hard cock still nestled firmly inside you. You let out a pathetic whine that makes Astarion give an involuntary little buck of his hips. You chase after him with your own, but he rests more of his weight on top of you, effectively trapping you underneath him. 
“Fuck, you’re so tight when you come. I need- I need a minute,” Astarion says, eyes screwed shut.
“Why?” you ask, pushing a lock of messy hair out of his face. It’s a good thing he can’t see himself in a mirror, he’d be distraught at the state of his hair.  “What are you waiting for?”
“Need to- fuck, need this to last. Never want this to end.”
It sends your heart soaring- the fact that Astarion is so determined to try to make this moment last as long as possible. Perhaps, beneath all his layers of pretend smiles and barbed wire guarding his heart, he’s secretly a romantic.
“Doesn’t have to end,” you murmur, nails scratching lightly at his scalp in the way you know he likes. “We can do this forever.”
And then, the most glorious thing happens. Astarion whimpers.
It’s one of those involuntary sounds that worked its way up from the back of his throat. You think you could grow used to the surge of power you feel inside you at forcing Astarion to lose his carefully practiced control. You want him to whimper again.
You use your grip on his hair to move his face towards yours to kiss him and you speak against his mouth, “Let me take care of you for once.”
You feel his nose rub against yours as he nods and you grin wickedly in triumph, gently pushing him off you so he’s laying back on the bed. Astarion looks confused for a moment before you settle on his lap, moving to guide him back inside you. You’re still so sensitive after your last orgasm, you feel every wonderful ridge and vein of his cock inside you. 
You lean down, biting his ear before you whisper, “You deserve to not have to do all the work for once.”
And then you move, rising and lowering yourself against his cock. This new angle has him hitting impossibly deeper, has him pressing against some secret, sponge-y spot that makes your toes curl every time he’s fully inside you.
So, this was what all the fuss was about. Why men waged wars and forsook religion. For what gods can compete with the way that Astarion moved inside you? And what cruel gods indeed if they forbade this act of your salvation. You felt as if you had been born anew atop Astarion’s cock. 
You bite your lip, trying to dampen the barrage of noises that threaten to spill out of you.
“No,” Astarion nearly cries out, his thumb coming up to pull your lower lip out from between your teeth. “Need to- fuck, need to hear you.”
Oh, he’s desperate in the best way possible. You stop holding back- let out every gasp and moan and curse. Astarion’s hands come up to your breasts- kneading and squeezing them and pinching your nipples and he’s looking at you with such awe that you think you could tell him you were an angel sent from the heavens and he would believe you. 
Your thighs are starting to burn when Astarion’s hand moves from your breasts to curl around your throat and you mewl at how perfectly his hand fits around your neck. His thumb traces gently over his bite mark from earlier, his eyes getting even more desperate and hungry, all fiery red like he’s going to consume you alive. 
Astarion is not subtle about his obsession with the marks and bruises he leaves on your skin. 
You think that animalistic, instinctual part of him is proud of the idea that everyone knows he was the one to give you those marks. And you have never tried to hide them, even if particularly nasty marks on the column of your throat sent Gale’s eyes skittering to look anywhere but you and caused Shadowheart to make snide comments about them as she helped you dress. 
You toss your hair over your shoulder, displaying the bite even more proudly, still rolling your hips against his own. 
Astarion uses his grip around your neck to pull you down against him and press his mouth to yours in a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. One of his fangs must catch on something because there’s that wonderful metallic taste of blood being shared between you two.
“Where?” He pants out against your lips.
And because you’re a little dizzy with the influx of new sensations, your brain can’t quite decipher what Astarion means. “Where what?” 
“Where can I come, darling?”
Oh. Oh.
Although Astarion could have told you simply that the sky was blue in that husky voice and it would have caused your eyes to roll back in your head, those deliciously racy words out of his mouth have you practically turning into mush. 
“Gods,” you breathe out. “Anywhere you want. Inside?”
Because the idea of being separated from him for even a moment seems unbearable. And that was the right answer based on the way Astarion’s hips start to buck into you with wild abandon. 
You continue to move together, two inseparable bodies- unable to tell where one ends and the other begins. His cock pulses inside you before he lets out a strangled moan and you feel him come inside you.
Tired and spent, with aching thighs, you settle yourself on top of Astarion. You have laid your head on his chest many times and his lack of heartbeat will never get less foreign. Though, you do feel a sense of satisfaction that he’s also exhausted- panting beneath you and trying to catch his breath. Astarion’s cool chest feels wonderful against your flushed, sweaty skin. 
“Where did an innocent thing like you even learn about this position?” Astarion asks and you can hear the delighted little teasing tone in his voice. “Here I was thinking I’d have all sorts of fun things to teach you.”
Despite the fact that Astarion cannot see your face, you roll your eyes. You know he thinks you naive and bashful because you are inexperienced. 
“Married women whisper rather loudly if you know how to eavesdrop,” you tell him. “You can find out all sorts of salacious secrets- whose husband has a mistress or whose child might have been born a bit too early after the wedding. More interestingly, you learn all about what scandalous things happen in the bedroom between married couples. ‘Riding Saint George’ caused quite the uproar a few seasons ago.”
“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?” Astarion laughs and you feel his chest rumbling underneath your cheek. 
“And I know all sorts of things,” you defend yourself to Astarion. “Most other ‘prim’ and ‘proper’ ladies would have balked the moment your head went between their thighs.”
“Well, I can’t wait to see the extent of your knowledge. And fill in any gaps that might arise,” he says in a low, seductive voice that makes you keenly aware of the fact that his cock is still inside you. 
Propping your head up on Astarion’s chest, you look at him, giggling a bit at the way his dark, sultry eyes contradict rather comedically with the mess that had become his hair. He’d need a small fortune’s worth of pomade to tame it.
“We probably should have saved the bath for after that, huh?” you grin, reaching up to brush some of the loose curls away from his forehead. 
When Astarion laughs, you use that as the opportunity to slip off of him, hissing at the dull ache between your thighs and the feeling of how desperately you already miss him inside you. 
Astarion gets up to find the towel that had somehow ended up thrown over the folding screen in the corner of the room as the two of you had desperately clawed at one another and stumbled over to the bed. Astarion wets the towel and returns, gently wiping it in between your legs.
You hiss. Astarion looks at you worried, like he just committed the greatest crime in the world by hurting you. 
“Sensitive, s’all,” you explain and he returns to carefully wiping away any residue of your coupling. 
Astarion’s arm wraps around your waist as he settles next to you on the bed. He has a book on his bedside table that you grab and read aloud. It’s wonderful how easily the two of you settle back into your old patterns. You read until your eyes start to grow heavy and you instead shift your focus your attention to studying Astarion’s beautiful face. His eyes close and he relaxes as you gently trace your fingers over his strong brow, down his lovely nose, over the curve of his jaw.
“Can you turn into a bat?” You ask, half on your way to sleep. 
“Why would you possibly be wondering that after I’ve just given you the most memorable night of pleasure you’ve ever known?” Astarion asks, eyes opening to look at you as if you’ve grown a second head.
You giggle and poke him on the tip of his nose. He playfully catches your finger in his mouth and gives it a gentle bite. 
“I don’t know. I always thought they were cute when I was a girl. And I think you’re cute now. And you’re a vampire. My mind just connected some dots.”
Astarion rolls his eyes, “I’m not cute, darling. Dashingly handsome or devilishly good-looking, maybe, but not cute.”
“I think it would be weirder if I called a bat dashingly handsome than if I called you cute,” you say, scrunching up your nose. 
You had missed this- the easy back and forth that you always managed to find with Astarion. You had been so lonely without him, your best friend. Yet another reason why you love him is because he understands you innately, because the two of you have managed to dig your way so far under each other’s skins and find a home there. 
“I’d rather you didn’t compare me to a bat at all,” Astarion says, still acting as if you have gravely offended him by daring to call him cute and like he doesn’t require your compliments as a basic necessity to survive. He lets out a sigh, as if you are greatly annoying him (you both know you are not) and finally answers your question. “And no, I can’t turn into one. As a general rule, I try to stay as far away from rodents as possible.”
Weird rule, you think. 
“Pity, I’d bet you’d be cute. You’d probably be white, like one of those albino ones,” you tease, bringing your hand up to tug on his mess of white curls. 
“I worry for your sanity, darling.”
You gasp, a big dramatic one that Astarion himself would be proud of. “Don’t tell me you just passed up an opportunity to make a joke about how you ‘fucked me stupid’ or something obscene like that.”
“I would never debase myself with such vulgarity.” He says in mock offense at your words before his lips twist up in a lecherous grin that you know means trouble. “Besides, it sounds so much better from your lips, my love.”
Astarion leans forward and kisses you on your vulgar mouth.
The two of you resume holding each other, wrapped in your little cocoon of love. But your mind is still elsewhere.
“I found one when I was younger, you know,” you break the silence.
Astarion hums. “One what?” 
“A bat,” you remind him. “It was right after my mother died. The poor thing was injured. It had a broken wing and was just crawling helplessly on the ground. I brought it home with me, foolishly thinking I could heal it. When my father found it in my room that night, he made me watch while a servant killed it. He told me I shouldn’t be messing around with nature, that I was lucky it didn’t give me rabies.”
You shiver a bit at the memory of the bat’s tiny head caved in where your father had ordered a servant to take a shovel to the animal. You think of that poor man’s distraught face, how he had been unable to disobey if he wanted to keep his job, if he wished to be able to feed his family.
You continue speaking, “It felt like my father was telling me that caring about something doesn’t matter. But I disagree with that- I think we should try to help the things we love no matter what. Even if it is a stupid bat that might give you rabies.”
“I’d still love you. Foaming mouth and all,” Astarion smiles at you.
“Liar,” you say, poking his cheek.
Astarion frowns, but doesn’t say anything for a long time. You see him chewing on something in his mind but you give him time- you try to trust him to tell you when he is ready. 
“You’re going to die some day,” his voice is grim when he speaks. “Unless…”
Well, that’s a bummer. 
“Unless I’m a vampire,” you complete his train of thought.
And you can’t say the idea had never occurred to you. Especially as you had sat at Astarion’s bedside when he was injured. 
At times, he had been thrashing and screaming so violently that he would reopen the wound on his abdomen. You had been frantic watching him like that. Shadowheart had to practically pry you away from him so that he didn’t accidentally injure you in his flailing.
You never speak of those memories with Astarion, no matter how deeply they haunt you. You know they would only serve to embarrass him, that he would only interpret your care as pity. You know this because you would think the same.
But as you sat and watched him, useless except for your blood, you had a long, long time to think about what would have happened if you were the one that was injured. Would Astarion have cared? Would he have sat at your bedside in anguish as you recovered? 
No, you had realized. Because a wound like his would have left you dead. 
“When I asked you if you’d ever want to be a vampire, you said you didn’t know if you would. That it would depend on the circumstances. Is that still true?” Astarion asks, searching your face for an answer you’re unsure you’re able to give. 
Because it’s not that you don’t ever want to be a vampire. It’s just all too soon. You and Astarion had only been married for six months and you had just gotten back on solid ground after a very rocky two weeks. 
And you know that you do want Astarion forever, but you also want to settle into this new life with him for a while longer. There was still so much he was hiding from you and you don’t want the memory of your turning to be tainted by doubts or hesitation. It should be a joyous occasion- the true union of your souls that you didn’t get at your wedding.
“I don’t know…” you trail off, a bit unsure of how to put your thoughts into words that will not hurt Astarion’s feelings. Instead, you choose to deflect, “Do you want to turn me? Is that why you’re asking this?”
“I can’t stand the thought of you being harmed. Of you dying.” Astarion laments, his eyes all blood red, reminding you of that monstrous gash in his side. “What a miserable existence that would be, not after I have known the ecstasy of being with you. Everything else just seems dull in comparison.”
And he’s right, the idea of a life without him seems hollow. Survivably, certainly, but lackluster. It reminds you of how Astarion can only see the gardens at night- still beautiful, still worth experiencing, but not nearly as vibrant or wonderful as you knew it could be. 
“I know I want to be a vampire someday,” you say. “I dread the thought of growing older while you remain unchanged. I hate the idea of becoming a burden to you in my old age.”
“You could never be a burden. And that’s a long way off,” Astarion tries to reassure you. 
Because for him, time isn’t running out. For him, time stretches and flows lazily like a river into the sea. And he had been like this for so long, had been a vampire many lifetimes longer than he had been alive. You can’t even begin to help him conceptualize what you mean, but you try anyway. 
“A long way off for me, but that’s nothing for you, Astarion. It will pass before you even notice.” You take a deep breath and try to communicate the thoughts that you yourself are not sure you fully understand. Interlacing your fingers with Astarion’s, you guide his hand to your mouth so you can press a kiss to the back of it. “I do want this, I want a life with you. Forever. I’m just- I’m not ready yet. Let me enjoy being alive a while longer. Let me choose when and how it happens.”
With a gentle smile, Astarion says, “Of course, my love. Just say when.”
—----------
Astarion hardly even lets you leave his bed the next few days. Not that you’re complaining about it. He separates himself only long enough to tell Gale to bring your meals to his room for the foreseeable future. Astarion’s very specific about how Gale is only supposed to knock and how under no circumstances are you to open that door. 
From your spot in the bed, linen sheets pulled up over your chest in an attempt to protect your modesty, you think you overhear Gale saying, “Under no circumstances would I want to,” before he leaves.
The next couple of months are a blur of sitting in front of warm fireplaces and reading and you and Astarion wrapped together, his cool skin only intensifying the burning desire within you. With the warmth in your heart, you wouldn’t even be able to tell it’s the dead of winter. The weather outside is dreary and miserable and you don’t even notice because you and Astarion are too consumed in one another. 
And touching. Always touching. Astarion seems unable to ever let you be out of his grasp, even if it was as simple as your feet being pressed against one another underneath the table at meals. 
The best part about winter is the long nights which allow you to keep the curtains open that much longer without fear for Astarion’s safety. He relaxes in the darkness, comes alive like those silly moonflowers you planted for him. In the dark, he’s less restrained, more confident (if it was possible to describe Astarion as more confident). 
You come to realize that Astarion doesn’t like the cold based on how he’s unable to resist warming his hands when he sees a fire and the pile of quilts he stacks on top of the two of you in bed before you sleep. You would wake up stifling if not for Astarion’s cool touch beneath the sheets. 
It’s wonderful how easily the two of you balance each other- hot and cold, alive and dead, sun and moon. 
And although Astarion hates winter, with enough carefully timed pouting, you do force him to humor you one evening when there’s a particularly beautiful snow. He bundles himself up in about ten layers and grumbles the whole time he’s pulling on his thick woolen greatcoat.
“Enough layers,” you laugh, tugging on his hands to pull him outside. 
“I’m freezing,” he says, stopping completely and tugging you backward by your interlaced hands when you’ve only made it about three steps out the door.
The sky is cloudy and there’s no silvery moonlight to highlight Astarion’s beauty tonight. You have to be content with the way the torches that line the entrance to the manor make his face all shadows and sharp angles. 
“Poor star,” you say in a mocking tone. You step back toward him, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek as you promise in a low voice, “I’ll warm you up later.”
“I’d much prefer if you would warm me up now.”
“Patience is a virtue, my love,” you tell him and drag him out further into the snow.
He catches you around the waist, pulling you against him to whisper in your ear, “I’m not a virtuous man.”
And for a second, you do consider the merits of letting him drag you back inside. But it’s been so long since you’ve seen a snow this pretty and it’s getting late in the season and you aren’t going to let your lust-addled mind win out. Astarion could wait- you would have a lifetime with him. You need to appreciate fleeting moments as they come. 
“Help me build a snowman,” you say, attempting to distract yourself from the flames of desire burning hot within you. 
Astarion looks incredulous, “What do you take me for? A child?”
“I take you for a man who loves his wife very much and would make her very happy if he listened to her,” you say, looking up at him and trying to bat your lashes in that way he can’t resist.
He sighs, one of those big dramatic ones that is meant to make you feel like you’re the biggest inconvenience he’s ever encountered. Always an actor, your husband. You have grown to appreciate it now that you can understand the man beneath the performance. 
“The last thing I want is to ruin my beautiful nails,” he says with a frown.
“You’re wearing gloves,” you point out, laughing at his theatrics. 
“It’s the principle of the thing, darling,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I’ll supervise. That suits my talents far better.”
And so, Astarion sets to work micromanaging you like his life depends on it. Over a stupid snowman that he called childish. 
You can hardly even pack a bit of snow into a ball before Astarion is complaining about it being lopsided or that the ratio between the different snowballs is off and making the thing look ugly. It takes entirely too long to complete. 
You wouldn’t have it any other way. 
You look at the completed snowman for a second, feeling a sense of accomplishment in your work. And then, you reach out to kick it over. 
“See,” you grin up at Astarion. “That’s the fun part.”
“Gods, you’re ridiculous,” Astarion says, leaning down to kiss you. 
But you also know he’s secretly disappointed he didn’t get to kick down a snowman. 
“C’mon, I’ll build another one for you,” you tell him.
When he isn’t looking, you roll a ball of snow in your hands and throw it at his back. He stiffens and turns, shooting you an angry glare over his shoulder. Trying to hold back your laughter, you reach down to collect another bunch of snow in your hands.
“Don’t you dare-” Astarion starts to say, but is interrupted by the snowball that strikes him directly in the center of his chest. “Oh, you’ll pay for that, you insolent little-”
You let out a little shriek as he starts to chase after you. With your feet sinking into the snow, you aren’t able to run very fast and Astarion somehow manages to move so deftly and sneakily, as if the snow itself was helping to hold him aloft. He gains on you quickly. It feels so different than that first night in the garden, when you had been running for your very life. This time, you sneak peaks over your shoulder, admiring Astarion’s beauty and eagerly awaiting for him to catch up to you. 
You’re a bit off-balance when his hands finally wrap around your waist. The two of you end up tumbling into the snow and you land on top of Astarion with a loud ‘oof.’
And although Astarion hates the cold, he settles into snow beneath him, wrapping his arms around you tighter and pressing your foreheads together as you both shake in laughter. He looks beautiful like this, underneath you. The tip of his nose is red from the cold air. He looks alive. 
After your laughing fit subsides, Astarion says with exasperation, “Well, if I’m already down here.”
He starts moving his arms up and down in the snow and it’s a bit jarring considering you’re still laying on top of him.
Oh, you realize. He’s trying to make snow angels. 
With a delighted giggle, you roll off him into the snow to join him, moving your arms and legs in time. With every stroke of your arms, you make sure to reach out so that your gloved fingers brush against his.
Eventually, you pull yourself up out of the snow, carefully brushing the snow out of the fur lining your coat and thinking about how Shadowheart is going to scold you tomorrow for getting the beautiful fur all wet. Astarion stays on the ground, elegantly sprawled and content to watch you. His pale skin and white hair would almost blend in if not for the rosy pink on his cheeks and nose. You feel a sense of pride simmering within you that it was your blood which gave him that lovely coloring. 
“Help me up?” Astarion asks, holding his hands out for you to grab.
“No! You’re just going to pull me down again! You’re not nearly as clever as you think you are.”
Astarion pouts. You hate to admit that you are just as susceptible to giving him what he wants as he is to you. 
“Spoiled little rich boy,” you huff, grabbing his hands to pull him up. You can tell he’s pulling back against you, trying to be difficult. “Come on, you’re making this hard on purpose!”
Astarion laughs and finally stands up, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight against him. The wool collar of his coat is soft and a bit fuzzy where it brushes against your cheek. 
“Thank you, my love.” Astarion says in a quiet voice, dropping a kiss along your hairline. “I haven’t laughed that hard in years. You help me remember what it’s like to feel young again.”
Oh, there goes your little heart. Thumping away like a racehorse. 
“You are still young. Or at least, you still look young,” you tease.
“Not everyone can age as gracefully as me,” Astarion says wistfully, as if his beauty is some great curse that he is forced to live with. 
“Like a fine wine,” you agree, playing into his ego. 
“I do recall that you promised to warm me up,” Astarion murmurs huskily in your ear. It has your head spinning and your cunt aching. “I’d like to take you up on that offer now.”
You nod, breathless, and let him lead you back inside. The two of you strip out of your wet clothes, spreading out on a blanket in front of the fire and you thoroughly warm Astarion by sinking to your knees and using your mouth on him. 
You curl around one another after, Astarion’s head against your chest as you cuddle together underneath a blanket. 
“I have to leave tomorrow,” Astarion says, interrupting the comfortable silence.
“Have to?” you challenge him, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “And let me guess- I can’t come. That’s why you humored me tonight.”
“You know I worry too much about your safety. So no, you cannot come. Not while you’re still human.”
“I don’t appreciate you using my humanity as a bargaining chip,” you hiss back at him. 
You know he doesn’t mean to make you mad. You know that deeply, down to his core, Astarion is terrified of losing you and that fear will always be present until you ascend past the confines of mortality.
Astarion takes a deep breath, shifting his weight onto his arm so he can hover over you and see your face. His voice softens as he looks down at your angry, furrowed brow, “I apologize, little flower, that’s not my intent. I just- I would be too worried about you, it would jeopardize everyone else’s safety and they don’t deserve that.”
He’s right, of course. And you appreciate him listening to you and reframing his words in a better way. That is what love is- challenging the other person to do better. 
But you can’t help feeling that you could be of use if Astarion would just tell you what’s going on. You have your own anxieties. You worry greatly for his safety, too. And it just feels a bit like he’s prioritizing himself over you. It doesn’t feel equal. 
When you’re still silent, Astarion drags his thumb gently across cheek, “We can take another trip when I get back. Just the two of us, anywhere you want to go.”
You smile at him. You really do see and appreciate him trying. 
You do not know Astarion’s romantic history, but you are sure he must have had many, many lovers based partly on how skilled he is at sex, but based mostly on how wonderful he is. Who wouldn’t want to be around him? Who wouldn’t fall in love with this man immediately? He was snarky and funny and somehow still managed to be impossibly sweet and gentle. 
But you also had a feeling that Astarion was not very experienced at being in love. There were times where he seemed so unsure, times where he seemed almost clumsy with his love, and many times like this where it felt like the two of you were speaking different languages. You were both still learning how to work together and how to compromise after so long of only looking out for yourselves. 
“Where are you going?” You ask.
“To the Underdark,” Astarion says. And he must expect your displeased response because he rolls to lie next to you, so that he is looking at the ceiling instead of your upset face. 
“Why on earth would you be going to a place like that?” You ask, surprised. The Underdark was a lawless, dangerous place. It was where criminals and lowlives congregated and festered. You can see the wheels in Astarion’s head turning, trying to come up with some lawyer-y answer that doesn’t answer your question at all so you use the promise. “Honest.”
And so far, he has respected that promise. Usually, his answers were purposefully vague. But sometimes he gave you answers that were actually useful. You had finally learned who the strange people he was always whispering with were. Astarion had even introduced you to them over dinner the next time they had visited. 
Karlach you had met previously, when Astarion was injured. You didn’t like to think about that time. It was much easier to pretend you first met Karlach over dinner, where she was all big smiles and boisterous laughter. You got along with her easily, but she seemed like the type of person that everyone got along with.
Lae’zel was the mean-looking lady and she was from very far away, Astarion had explained. Her homeland didn’t have the same restrictions for women, so she was raised and trained to be a warrior before they met in Baldur’s Gate. She didn’t say much at dinner, just chewed her meat angrily. 
And Wyll was the man with the two differently-colored eyes. He was very polite and very cordial- the perfect gentleman. He promised to dance with you at the next ball after Astarion had made a mocking comment about his fancy feet. 
But tonight, Astarion’s voice is measured when he speaks, each word carefully chosen. “I’m looking for something. And I just got some new information that leads me to believe I’ll find what I’m looking for there.”
Humming in acknowledgement, you choose not to pry further, no matter how desperately you want to. You respected Astarion enough to use the promise of honesty sparingly. He deserves the opportunity to tell you things of his own free will. 
But really, you could have guessed he was looking for something. At least now you have confirmation. Now, you just need to figure out what he’s looking for. And why.
“How long do you expect to be gone?” You ask instead, turning your head to study his profile.
“A few days. A week at most. I’m going to take both Lae’zel and Karlach with me. The only thing I want to repeat about my last trip is to see you welcoming me home, full of blood for me to drink.” Astarion turns his head to give a mischievous little grin. 
You know he is trying to deflect, trying to lighten the mood with playful banter. But you can’t help but feel your heart stutter in your chest as you picture him, bloody and wounded, bleeding out in front of you. You tear your gaze away from Astarion, back to the ceiling so you can close your eyes, willing away those horrible images. 
“I’ll miss you,” you tell him and you feel his pinky finger brush against your own. It makes you smile. Touching. Always touching. You sigh, “I get bored when you’re gone. And it’s winter, so I can’t even work in the garden to keep me busy.”
“I fear what happens when you grow bored,” Astarion teases. He’s probably right to fear considering the last time you were too bored you had broken into his study. 
Astarion presses himself up again to lean over you again, eyes hungry and redder than blood. “You’ve given me such a lovely memory tonight to think of when my time on the road grows dull. Perhaps I need to give you one, as well.”
He leans down to give you a lingering kiss. You savor the way his lips glide against yours, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Astarion’s hand begins to trail up from your hip slowly, over the curve of your waist, heading toward where your hardened nipples press against his own chest. 
“Not tonight, too tired,” you yawn and Astarion’s hand dances back down over your ribs, instead, his thumb moving in little circles over your skin. You give him your own imitation of one of his signature sinful smiles as you say, “And I have plenty of those memories already, but they’re a poor substitute to actually being with you. My hands just aren’t as adept as yours. Makes me miss you worse.”
“It’s true, I do have wonderful hands.” Astarion lifts one of his hands up between the two of you to admire it. You bring your own hand up to meet his, pressing your palms together and appreciating how his hand compares to yours. 
Astarion twines your fingers together. The fire crackles and glints against his gold wedding ring.
His wedding ring.
Which had been noticeably missing from his ring finger since the night of your wedding. 
“You’re wearing your ring,” you point out, a thrill of pleasure running through your veins. You continue moving his hand, watching how the firelight twists and shines off the gold. 
Good, you think, let the world know that this perfectly imperfect man is mine. 
“Have been for weeks, pet. I thought you noticed it already and just didn’t say anything.” Astarion says with that soft voice reserved especially for you. 
You detangle your hand from his, sliding the ring off his finger as you go.
“What are you doing?” Astarion asks, trying to pull it back out of your grasp so he can put it back on his finger. 
You push Astarion off you and sit up and Astarion looks utterly lost about what’s going on. You’re content to let him sweat for a little bit because you feel he didn’t make a big enough deal about the fact that he had started to wear his ring again. 
Pulling your hair over your shoulder, you turn to look at Astarion. “Help me.”
Astarion- dutiful, devoted husband that he is- sits up to help you unclasp the necklace chain which holds your own ring. You slide the delicate gold band off the chain for the first time since you had put it there and press the ring into his palm while you hold onto his own. 
“Let’s try this again. Do you, Astarion Ancunin, take me to be your lawfully wedded wife?” You ask in a low voice, trying to be serious in what feels like a childish, silly moment. 
You are worried that Astarion will laugh at you for being foolishly sentimental but when you look at him, Astarion is gazing back at you with a matching goofy grin on his face, like you had just hung the sun and stars in the sky for him. 
“I do,” he says and his lovely, beautiful voice lilts through the air and dances its way into your heart. You slip the ring back over his finger, cherishing the way the gold looks nearly incandescent against his pale skin.
Mine, you think, now and forever.
You motion with your hand for him to go next.
Astarion clears his throat. “Do you take me to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do,” you choke out in a whisper and Astarion slips the ring onto your finger, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. You think you might have seen tears welling up in his eyes and your own vision is starting to go a bit blurry. It feels like the wedding you never really got. 
“Where’s Gale to tell you to ‘kiss the bride’ when you need him?” You ask with a watery laugh.
“I think I can manage that perfectly well by myself,” Astarion huffs. “And knowing Gale, we’d be here all day before he got around to saying the important part.”
“Who’s the one being wordy now? Just kiss me already,” you tease.
And he does. Over and over and over again until your lips are swollen and your head is spinning.
“I’ll miss you,” Astarion murmurs against your lips. 
His words tear you back to reality, force you to remember a world outside of this perfect moment, which has wrapped around the two of you like a warm blanket. 
“You don’t have to miss me if you take me with you,” you point out, nudging your nose against his. 
“Cute,” Astarion says. “But not going to work.”
You pout in that way that always makes Astarion give you what you want.
Astarion kisses the tip of your nose. “That won’t work either.”
Alas, that’s all the dirty tricks you have left in your metaphorical pocket. 
“You better bring me back something really good, then,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him. 
Astarion laughs- all golden and shimmery and filling the room with the warmth of the sun. 
—-------
Astarion wakes you up with a gentle kiss the next evening, when the sun is just about to slip past the horizon into night. He’s kneeling beside the bed, dressed in what can only be described as armor. It’s concerning, to say the least. The Underdark is dangerous, certainly, but the implication that whatever he’s doing is dangerous enough warrant armor has you even more worried. 
“Goodbye, my love. I’ll be back in a few days,” Astarion’s voice is soft and his fingers run gently through your hair. It would be the perfect way to wake up if he wasn’t leaving.
“Be safe. I love you” you tell him, feeling hopeless at your lack of control over whether he will return home safely. 
“I love you, too. Go back to sleep,” he urges you, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. 
There’s something gnawing at you as you watch him slip silently out of the bedroom door. It still feels like he’s not telling you the truth. 
------------------------
Notes:
Yay! Everyone is happy (for now…)
Not going to lie, I had a whole blowjob scene written for this chapter and decided to cut it because this thing is already monstrously long without it and I honestly didn't feel like it was contributing anything new to the story. So I'll probably repurpose it for a later chapter or I might post it as a separate little side fic because it did have some dialogue that I thought was funny that wouldn't work later. We'll see…
Fun fact, the 'lamentable is the autumn picker' poem is something that Astarion did have sewn into his shirt in early access and as a poetry lover, I think it is one of the loveliest lines I've ever read. He's also got a funny little line sewn into his underwear in the game that makes me laugh: 'If you're reading this, you managed to bed or behead me. Either way, you got lucky.'
Another fun fact, 'Riding Saint George' was actually a regency era slang term for riding a guy. It comes from the story of Saint Georgy and the Dragon, where the dragon looms over St. George. So the phrase essentially means that the woman (like the dragon) is on top during 'amorous congress.' I heard about this term in a different regency era fic I read forever ago and I thought it was so funny and I'm so happy I finally got the chance to use it somewhere.
I'm going to try to have chapter 7 out at around the same time as normal next Sunday but I am in grad school and going to a conference out of town next weekend so it depends a bit on when I can sneak away to post. Fair warning, the next two chapters are going to be very plot heavy and then we will be back to more fluffy, smutty goodness for the final two chapters.
I love you guys so much!!! I wish I could give all of you little kisses on the foreheads! It makes my day every time I read a new comment and I felt like an evil overlord all week feasting on your suffering from last chapter lol. Thanks for sharing this crazy journey with me- it makes it all the more fun!
As always, hugest thank you to my beta-writer AliensNSuch on ao3.
Taglist: @ayselluna @idkbrodontaskme @maruichio @fanfic-share @the-littlest-bruja @asterordinary
Feel free to let me know if you would liked to be added/removed from the taglist for future chapters!
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vapidwritersblog · 3 months
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LEVI X EX READER (PART TWO)
Description: You and Levi broke up over a year ago, but you haven’t been able to let each other go. In Part One, you both reached a crossroads.
CW: smut, soft levi, angst, jealous levi, emotional sex, oral sex fem receiving… i promise there’s a hefty amount of smut here u just have to wade through some drama :)
**MDNI**
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made a little angsty Revisiting You playlist if you’re interested
Levi hadn’t even walked through the door of the bar where Hange had insisted they meet, and he was already regretting his decision. If Hange noticed he’d put up less of a fight than he usually did when they tried to get him to join them for a drink they hadn’t mentioned it, and he was grateful.
Truthfully, he needed to get his mind off of the monumental bomb you’d dropped. You’d been seeing someone. He knew he didn’t have the right to be upset. After all, he’d broken up with you after ascending to captain, hoping for this. He knew then that there was no way out for him, but it wasn’t the same for you. You’d never left the walls before. You could still settle down, have a family, have a life. And he knew you wanted that, even if you’d been willing to give it all up for him.
When you’d first broken up, he really hadn’t meant to sleep with you again. He ended things, broken his own heart in the process, and expected to move on with his life. He didn’t think he’d ever be with another person again. He didn’t think he could.
Things had been going about as well as they could’ve in the weeks that had followed the impossible conversation and the ensuing fight in his office that led to the end of your relationship. On the rare occasions that he slept, Levi woke up alone and lonely. The tea you’d bought him sat collecting dust on a shelf, subtly sweet notes gone bitter. He ignored Hange and Erwin’s fruitless attempts at getting him to open up.
He never looked at the stars again.
It was horrible, but things were fine, and he knew, without a doubt, that it was for the best.
But then he’d seen you. He hadn’t expected it, having been summoned by Erwin to talk about an expedition. You’d just been stopping by, Erwin had told him once you’d rushed off, stumbling away with wide eyes. Levi knew it was bullshit, but he accepted the explanation with a grunt, not wanting to speak further on the matter with his meddling friend.
He spent the next few days in an absolute daze. You’d look tired. He wondered if you were sleeping. As a doctor, you used to always pester him about how essential sleep is. He wondered if sleep was another thing he’d stolen from you. He felt guilty enough having harbored so much of your time. Like most things concerning you, Levi did his best to push the thoughts from his mind. And, like most things concerning you, the thoughts never left him.
It wasn’t a special night when it first happened. Nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Levi had spent the day training, cleaning, and thinking of you. That day had been just like all the others until, without realizing it, his feet had begun carrying him towards your office, and all of a sudden he was knocking on the rarely closed door. The sound of his own fist sobered him up a little, and he meant to turn and leave then, but then he decided he could at least check in. You could be friends, right? He would just say hi, see you were doing well and bid you a goodnight.
But then you opened the door, and he saw you. You looked tired, but you looked gorgeous too. All the words he’d wanted to say but knew he shouldn’t overloaded his mind. He wanted to tell you he missed you. He wanted you to know he’d never love again. Instead, like a child so blinded by the shiny toy in front of him that he could think of nothing but the immediate urge to touch, he kissed you. And then, you kissed him back. And at that moment, Levi felt better than he had in weeks.
So he did it again. And again. And again. Thoughts of you plagued his mind, but he kept them at bay… until he saw you treating Petra, or laughing in the mess hall, or walking down to the training grounds. Every time Levi saw you, he was overcome with the desire to be seen by you.
He always left right after. Before he could say something stupid. He fucked you instead of loving you. He teased you instead of begging you to take him back. He made you tell him you belonged to him, even though he knew it was cruel. But you were willing each time, eager for him. Sometimes he thought he saw hope in your eyes, but it always passed quickly. You seemed to be doing fine. You didn’t look as tired after a couple of months, and he wondered if it meant you’d moved on in a way he’d accepted he never would.
He fucked you, he felt better, then he felt like shit. The cycle repeated until he was so depleted he couldn’t believe his hair hadn’t begun falling out. And then you were seeing someone.
Levi hardly ever drank, but if Hange or Erwin were surprised by how quickly he finished his first glass of whiskey, they kept the thought to themselves. There’d been a lot of restraint like that lately, Levi thought to himself, before wondering if Hange might burst at the seams from all the effort it surely took.
Levi unceremoniously waved down a tall man he assumed to be a server as soon as he’d downed his first drink. The employee practically ran towards Levi’s table, and he hoped it meant he’d be getting his refill quickly.
Unfortunately, once he’d reached them, the man looked at him with wide, awe-struck eyes and Levi had to stifle the groan building in his throat. He despised the fan fare on a good day, and today had been a horrible one.
“Are you Captain Levi?” The man asked, child-like excitement clear in his voice.
Hange chuckled, earning a glare from the raven haired man. Thankfully, Erwin answered for him.
“Yes, he is!” Erwin said as he slapped his hand on Levi’s back, causing him to jerk forward a bit.
The man’s shining eyes grew even wider as he sputtered, and it took all Levi’s remaining strength not to tell him to shut his mouth unless he wanted flies to make the cavern their new home.
Hange and Erwin did the talking for him, thankfully. He watched as the man somehow grew even more animated at the mention of the Survey Corps.
“You all might know my girlfriend! Well she’s not quite my girlfriend yet, but it’s headed towards that direction, I hope,” the man beamed.
He had a bright smile on his face, and had Levi been a sentimental man, he might have found it endearing. But Levi was nursing a broken heart, and he’d never been particularly sentimental, so he found himself glaring instead.
Eventually, the aggravating man, apparently named Mark, left the table alone and sent for someone else to refill their cups. Levi decided to down his second drink as well, earning a chuckle from Hange and a look of concern from Erwin.
“Levi,” he said gently. “The past couple of weeks, you’ve seemed a bit more… abrasive than usual. Is everything alright?”
Levi was about to roll his eyes until he saw how fucking earnest Erwin looked. Hange, despite their childish demeanor, had been looking at him the same way lately. Levi would blame the alcohol, but he did find himself yearning to talk to someone about how awful everything had been lately. The idea of venting about something as trivial as his love life made his stomach twist, but you had always told him that the people who cared for him deserved the chance to be there for him when they were needed.
Levi shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he thought it over, feeling Hange and Erwin’s gazes piercing his skin. Just when he’d decided to eat shit and talk to his friends, the three of them looked towards the door as it rattled open. His breath caught in his throat, and he wondered if his tolerance was so low that he was hallucinating.
You were dressed in a gorgeous white sundress, and you looked like an angel. Without his permission, his hands braced themselves against the table, and he found himself ready to stand. He wasn’t sure what would come next, all he knew was that he’d been feeling worse today than he had in a while, and now you were here.
Just before Levi could act on his thoughts, their rambling waiter ran towards you, nearly tripping over his absurdly long legs in the process. Levi’s body felt hot, and he felt even more conviction now, because who the fuck did this guy think he was?
“Ease up, you’re already splintering the wood,” Erwin murmured.
Levi scoffed, but when he looked down, he realized that Erwin hadn’t been exaggerating. His knuckles were shock white. He released the table quickly and noted that his palms were reddening from how hard he’d been gripping.
“That guy is harassing her,” Levi spat out as he started to stand, but Hange grabbed onto his wrist. He was about to threaten to break their hand, but they looked surprisingly serious.
“Levi, I don’t think they’re strangers,” Hange said. Their tone was firm and hesitant all at once. It was as if they were preparing to field a child’s tantrum.
Now that puzzled Levi, who was sitting back down. He knew all of your friends. You’d had the same ones forever. Had you gotten an entirely new friend group in his absence? It’s not as if you’d spent much time actually talking to each other lately.
He waited and watched. Determined to step in to save you from the overly jubilant man child at a moment’s notice. When Mark kissed you on the cheek. Levi expected you to shove him off, but you smiled.
Oh.
Oh. So this was the guy. The someone that you were seeing was the oaf hanging onto you like a leech. A man raised above ground who’d probably never experienced loss or hardship. Levi watched as you smiled at Mark, who Levi was now outright glaring at, and felt sick.
Well, he didn’t have to fucking be here. Levi shot up from the table so quickly it nearly toppled over, only saved by Erwin’s quick hands. He’d been determined to exit the bar as quickly and quietly as possible, but your almost boyfriend remained oblivious to the tension swirling around him.
“Oh, babe. Captain Levi’s here! You know him, right?” Mark called out just as Levi was about to walk out of the building.
For a brief moment, it felt as if the entire bar had gone still. Now aware of his presence, your nervous eyes bore into Levi’s all the while Mark grinned stupidly between you both.
Levi should’ve acted his age. He should’ve smiled at you and said hello like he wanted to. He should’ve appeased Mark, who was no worse than an overzealous fan. If he couldn’t manage that, he should’ve nodded and made his way out the door.
Instead, Levi scoffed. “This place is shit,” he sneered in a crestfallen Mark’s direction before he walked out the door of the dimly lit bar, ignoring you altogether.
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A week had passed since you’d seen Levi at Mark’s bar. It had been humiliating, how rude he’d been. Luckily, it didn’t take much convincing for Mark to chalk up the behavior to whatever stress Levi must be under, as he’d put it. Hange and Erwin had served as dutiful distractions once Levi had left. Greeting you kindly and assuring Mark that they’d be back.
Though it was just a lone comment, you’d found yourself mortified by the brief half interaction you’d shared with Levi that night. The first and only since you’d ended whatever there had been left to end. When he’d walked away from you so easily, effectively dampening any last fragments of hope your heart had foolishly clung to.
He hadn’t even looked at you. He hadn’t bothered to look at you, and you felt so pathetic, so cast aside. It was heartbreak all over again, even though you were older and wiser this time. You were nothing to him, except he’d acted jealous and rude the second he’d seen you with Mark. You knew better than to find it romantic. It wasn’t even possessive or territorial. At best, it was the kind of behavior born out of boredom. Levi would have to work harder not to be bored now that you were out of the picture. That’s the kind of man he was.
Then why, you wondered, had you done nothing more than smile at Mark and redirect the conversation later that night when it was clear he hoped to officially make you yours?
Thankfully, you didn’t have the time to ponder the answer to that question now that your thoughts were broken by a knock on your door. Though, any relief you’d felt was gone the instant your doorway revealed Levi himself.
You’d never seen him look so conflicted. He’d bounded into your office as soon as you’d opened the door and begun pacing around the tight quarters as he ran his hand through his raven locks. You opened your mouth to speak, to ease his nerves, but then you remembered your last two interactions with him, and you felt your fury return. You didn’t know why he was here, and it was no longer your job to make him comfortable, so you waited.
Finally, Levi took a deep breath and stopped his pacing a few feet away from you. He didn’t look less frantic, but there was conviction in his gaze.
“I’m sorry for what I said to your boyfriend,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean it.”
Right, you should be defending Mark’s honor right now. Levi had been rude to him for no good reason, and Mark was kind.
Instead, you said, “He’s not my boyfriend.”
You thought you saw something hopeful flash across Levi’s features, but you forced yourself to push your own hopefulness down.
“Why are you here, Levi?” You asked. “You know where to find Mark should you choose to apologize to him.”
Levi scoffed, seemingly disliking the sound of the man’s name on your lips.
“I don’t really give a shit about Mark,” he supplied, rudely. “Why isn’t he your boyfriend? He wouldn’t shut up about you, and you were all over him.”
Heat rose to your face at the accusation. “You have no right to be upset with me. And you have no right to be rude to men I may be seeing,” you said through gritted teeth, determined to walk away from Levi for the final time. Months of practice had taught you that no matter how upset you felt now, a conversation with Levi could only result in fucking or crying. Your lack of self-control brought you shame, and you were done letting it rule your life. You were not Levi’s, and he was not yours. If you forgot that as soon as you breathed the same air as the man, you’d commit to avoiding him forever. When he remained silent, you decided that you’d worked hard enough tonight.
“I’m going home,” you said as you began collecting your things. “Lock up behind me if you plan to stick around glaring into space as you are now.”
You’d only just begun walking away when you heard him release a shaky breath, and you felt your heart drop at the sight that greeted you when you turned to face him again, against your better judgment.
Levi was crying. Even when he recounted watching his mother and his best friends die, he hadn’t cried. If you hadn’t been so heartbroken at the sight, you might’ve found humor in the fact that even his tears were stubborn. They flowed slowly, as if they were hesitant. His beautiful eyes which had been angry and stormy just a moment ago were now wide and pleading for you, but you had to hold strong. As heartbreaking as the sight was, you knew you deserved better than this. Levi had had countless chances to return to you over the past year, and he hadn’t bothered to treat you as anything more than something to warm his cock until he’d seen you with someone else. You wouldn’t run back to him because he’d cried for you now. Not after you’d spent so many nights sobbing alone in your bed.
But then, his shoulders began to shake, the tears flowed freely and you melted. You ran to him, all your conviction forgotten, and took him into your arms.
You both stood like that for a few minutes. Captain Levi fell apart in your arms as you reminded yourself repeatedly that he still didn’t love you. Because he didn’t. Whatever this was, it wasn’t love. You’d help him tonight as a friend would, but then you had to free yourself. You released him slowly when his breathing normalized and the tears that had fallen onto your skin begun drying.
“I’m sorry,” he said it much softer this time, and you closed your eyes as the words washed over you. You let those two words said in his softest tone atone for the many months you’d spent doing this wretched dance. You let yourself take a deep breath, only for it to catch in your throat once you heard his next words. “I love you.”
You jolted as agony gripped your heart. “You don’t,” you choked out, eyes staring passively at the wall behind his head, just willing this moment to end.
“I do,” he said, confusion evident in his voice. “You must know that. Of course I do. I’ve always felt like it was obvious.”
“You left me, Levi,” you said, shaking your head as you propelled yourself away from him. Seeking comfort in whatever distance this small office could provide.
“Angel,” you tensed at the pet name. “We broke up because I can’t give you what you want. You know that,” he pleaded with you.
Still refusing to look at him, you shook your head. “You decided to leave me because you thought it was best. And then, you fucked me at your whim. And you left me over and over again.” You felt the tears cascading down your face, but couldn’t bring yourself to wipe them away. There really wasn’t a point in arguing about your break-up. The break-up itself had been an argument. Levi was insistent that you settle down with someone not fated for death and push out babies and live a long, happy life. It had been an archaic notion. Sure, you’d dreamt of a life like that once, but then you’d found Levi. He made you feel whole, and you didn’t care about anything but being by his side and assisting in his cause. Humanity’s cause. He’d refused to listen to reason, and walked away from your relationship. You’d expected him to come to his senses in a few days time.
“You ended our relationship needlessly, and then you forgot I existed until I was right in front of you,” you continued, finally looking at him now.
“Is that what you think?” He asked, his voice sounding scratched and broken. “That my dick jumped every time I saw you treating someone and I had to hump you like a dog?”
You swallowed, at a loss for words. That had been it, hadn’t it?
“Did you never consider that perhaps I think about you constantly? That not a day passes by without thoughts of you plaguing my mind, and that every time I see you I lose the last bit of restraint I have left?” He asked, the hopeful lilt back in his voice as he began creeping closer to you until you were just a foot apart.
“I thought of you every single day. I debated begging for you back once I realized how foolish I’d been, but eventually you seemed happier without me,” he said, breath close enough to mingle with yours.
“Never,” you denied. He released a deep exhale, and took one more step. Close enough to kiss you now.
His hands hesitated, and you could tell he desperately wanted to reach for you, but wasn’t sure if you’d bat him away.
“You love me?” You asked.
“Always,” he promised.
“I love you too,” you whispered, letting your eyes wander to his parted lips.
His hands jumped to cup your cheeks, and he kissed you with a desperation you’d longed for.
“Missed you so much,” he murmured as he pulled away briefly. “I had to leave fast every time because I was terrified I’d tell you.” He kissed you harder this time, and you melted at the confession. You felt his fingers swiping away tears you hadn’t even realize you’d begun shedding. He pulled back again and rested his forehead against yours.
“I will never run away like that again,” he promised as sincerity rolled off him in waves. “I was just so afraid of not being what you deserved. It was cowardice. I’m so sorry, Angel.”
The weight that had settled in your chest for over a year now finally began to lift, and though you knew you’d be having a much longer conversation about your time away and what the future promised, tonight you wanted to give Levi all you’d been holding back.
“Make me yours again, Levi,” you whispered as you situated yourself on top of your desk, pulling him along until he was settled between your outstretched legs.
The way he looked at you now was sinful, and you couldn’t wait to be taken by him.
“You’re still my girl?” He asked, licking a stripe across your jaw.
“Yes, fuck yes,” you mewled, bucking your hips into him. Ready and willing to be spread across the desk and devoured.
“Prove it. Wait for me.”
The pathetic whine that escaped you made him chuckle.
“I know you can, and I know you want to be my good girl,” he taunted you as he nipped your shoulder.
Fuck him and fuck you too, because you did want to be his good girl.
“I can do it,” you whimpered, desperate for him now. “I’ll be good.”
He pulled away from you then, and the face you made must have been absolutely pathetic. He smiled and rubbed soothing circles on your arms as he kissed you gently.
“I’m not done with you, Angel. But we have to go to one of our quarters,” he said.
You looked at him with confusion written all over your features. After all, you’d had sex in this office countless times.
“I want to worship you.” he said after kissing your forehead sweetly, head touching yours, giving you an unobstructed view of gray-blue. “I can’t do that properly here,” he explained.
Over the past year and a half, Levi had devoured you. Within the four walls of your office, he had tasted you, made you fall apart on his fingers, and fucked you without abandon against every surface available. Now, back in your bedroom, which still had a box of his clothes packed away, you felt more exposed than you ever had.
He removed your shirt painfully slow. Taking his time with each button, beautiful blue-grey eyes never breaking away from yours. You wanted to shy away from his gaze, but a larger part of you felt frozen underneath the stare of the man you loved. His eyes conveyed so much as he worked his way down your shirt. Desire, reverence, love.
“I have so much to make up for,” he said as he stroked your hair and placed the lightest kiss on your temple. He laid you down gently before cupping your cheeks with his hands and kissing your lips softer than he ever had.
“I love you,” he whispered into your mouth. “Let me show you how much I’ve missed you, angel.”
You looked up at the man who had you panting beneath him with the lightest of touches, and saw the undeniably soft gaze in his eyes. A side of Captain Levi reserved just for you.
When he finally had your shirt off, he kissed his way down your chest slowly, only pausing to remove your bra. You gasped when he gently sucked your nipples, and shivered as he swirled his tongue across your buds. Your clit was tingling, and you needed him so badly.
“Please,” you begged him when he finally began pulling down your skirt.
“Patience, Angel,” he shushed you as he lowered himself to his knees.
You felt your face heat up as he stared at your exposed pussy after he’d slowly removed your underwear. He kissed the inside of your left thigh, then your right. And then he finally, placed a delicate kiss on the tip of your clit. You were so worked up that you moaned at the light touch.
“Don’t look away from me once,” he instructed, and you nodded your head dumbly.
You had to fight the urge to toss your head back when he finally flicked your clit with his tongue, eyes on yours the entire time. He looked gorgeous beneath your thighs. He played with you, swirling his tongue around your tingling bud until you were panting above him, pussy fluttering uselessly. He had to grip your thighs to keep them open when he started sucking in earnest, his tongue continuing to swirl around your clit. His eyes were lidded and clouded with lust as he tasted you. With just a few more practiced movements you were gushing into his mouth, whining out his name as he moaned at the sensation, tongue moving down to swipe across your folds.
“You taste so fucking good, Angel,” he said as he licked his lips, eyes still locked on yours. You used your remaining strength to grip him by his hair and pull him into a kiss. You forgot where you ended and where he began as your eyes slipped shut and your tongue danced with his. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue.
“More, please,” you begged him.
When Levi finally entered you, he shuddered as your walls wrapped perfectly around his length, and you felt whole again. It wasn’t like the quick fucks in your office you’d relished in when you believed it was the closest you’d ever get to feeling loved again. You felt like he was coming home to you now. Part of you realized he’d never really left.
“You feel so amazing,” he said as he kissed your forehead again. “Fuck,” he groaned as he pulled out just enough to rock back into you. “I love you so much.”
You felt tears building in your eyes, and tried to hide the quivering of your lips by kissing his neck, but he caught your actions and kissed your lips instead.
“I love you. I won’t ever leave you again,” he promised. You nodded into his chest, and wrapped your legs around him. He used his right hand to gently pull your head away from his chest so that he could kiss you, and took a moment to look into your eyes as he continued fucking you gently.
“You’re everything to me,” he whispered as he started playing with your clit, and you were struck by the sincerity in his eyes. You whined underneath him, and at that moment you forgot how much time had passed since you’d felt this loved by him. You forgot about all the tears you’d cried. All you could think about was how much your love for this man consumed you. The sensation was overwhelming.
“I’m gonna cum for you,” you whined out as you met his movements with your hips, your legs still wrapped firmly around his torso. His fingers moved faster on your clit, and when his hard length rubbed against your g-spot again, you came hard with a sharp cry of his name.
Levi continued fucking you through your second orgasm. He swallowed your whines and then he kissed the tears that had fallen on your cheeks. Blessing the liquid proof of the ecstasy and love only he could provide for you.
“I love you, Levi,” you told him once your breathing had evened out. He pulled you into him as he continued fucking you, so much softer than you’d ever thought him capable of. It was a stark contrast from the strong grip he had on you now. He held you as if he was scared you’d run away. Your clit tingled, and your body felt like mush as he pumped himself inside of you. You were so oversensitive but lacked the energy to do anything but let the sensation wash over you. And it felt like heaven, being loved like this.
“I love you so much, Angel.”
He’d never sounded so raw before, and you felt yourself clenching around him again, pussy fluttering and somehow aching for more.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Can I cum inside? I missed you so much.”
“Please,” you begged him. “Please cum inside me, Levi. I need you.”
Levi started fucking you harder now, and you felt his nails digging into your skin as he pulled you even tighter into his chest. His dick felt impossibly hard, and you felt your pussy spasming around his cock as he continued hitting your g-spot.
You felt so good, so full. You didn’t ever want him to stop fucking you. You never wanted to be empty again. Just the thought of it made you throw your arms around him with a cry.
You gasped when you felt pleasure coursing through you, arching your back as much as you could within your tight hold on each other.
“Oh, fuck.” You heard Levi mutter, and had you been able to see his face, you would’ve noted how beautiful he looked with parted lips and surprised awe in his eyes as he watched you cum from his cock alone. Your last spasm was his undoing, and he filled you with his cum.
He collapsed on top of you, and you welcomed the weight, still holding onto him tightly as you came down from your overwhelming third orgasm.
You were only brought out of the haze when you heard him chuckle.
“I’m not going to disappear if you let go, Love. Let me hold you, please?” Levi offered.
You released him slowly with regret, but true to his word, he pulled you into his chest as soon as he situated himself on the bed beside you.
“Did you just cum again?” He asked as he stroked your hair.
You nodded, burying your head further into his chest as you relished in the smell of him. You’d missed the smell of tea leaves and his favorite soap.
“Has that ever happened before?”
You shook your head as you responded. “No, I’ve never been able to cum like that before.”
“Oh yeah?” He taunted you in stark contrast to the soft way he was caressing you now.
You rolled your eyes and huffed out a laugh.
“I’d tell you not to let it get to your head,” you said, raising your head so you could see the smug look on his face. “But I can see it’s already too late for that.”
He chuckled, bending down to capture your lips with his. “I’m just glad I could make you feel good.”
Your fingers traced the faint scars littering his chest as you hummed, exhaustion beginning to overtake you. Your eyes threatened to close, but you weren’t ready to let this moment slip through your fingers yet.
“It’s okay, Angel. You can go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up,” Levi promised, sensing your struggle.
You couldn’t help it when your eyes drooped to a close. Before you drifted off into darkness, you swore you heard him whisper, “I couldn’t bear waking up without you again.”
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fivestar-outlaw · 4 months
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New Horizons (Park Seonghwa) (Epilogue)
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Epilogue
Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Fem!Reader
Words: 7.0k+
Warning(s): Mentions of reader being anxious/having anxiety, some swears, drinking, i think thats it.
SMUT (18+) WARNINGS: Multiple orgasms, oral (F receiving)/ face sitting, slight cockwarming, birthcontrol used, No condom use, PiV penetration, cowgirl yeehaw
A/N: Fucking- Finally finished the epilog. Grad school is slowly but surely killing me rn. I only had time to write this during the undergrad class im taking for credits iubgouoren. I hope yall enjoy.
Reader is implied to be living in the US bc uh TIMEZONES ARE FUCKY and i didnt realize how reliant i was on mine (PST) when looking up KST
English dialogue is italicized, Korean dialogue is not
Summary: Attempting an all-nighter while playing Animal Crossing alongside your bias, you didn't expect your turnip prices to be such a high amount... nor did you expect Park Seonghwa to actually accept your offer to sell his turnips on your island.
Series Masterlist | Navigation
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You sat at your desk, phone set up for a video call with Seonghwa. You felt nervous. Tomorrow is your graduation, where you'll finally be done with this aspect of your life and will be moving onto the next step. Despite the distance, you and Seonghwa were as close as ever. You both missed each other dearly but talked as frequently as possible. 
You were a little sad that he and the rest of Ateez couldn't make it to your graduation, but you understood why. You didn't have much hope when you told Hongjoong the date and he told you he'd ask if they could. You tried to tell him not to ask since you knew they would be busy with an upcoming comeback, but he insisted he'd try. He talked to you the next night saying they had a packed schedule for that week and couldn't. You figured as much but it still made you a little sad.
You hear the tone for the video call and you quickly answer it with a smile. You see Hwa sitting there, but not in his room. You couldn't quite figure out where he was. He seemed to be wearing a loose sweater and a pair of glasses frames.
"Hello, jagiya." Seonghwa smiled sweetly, he seemed tired.
"Hello, love." You respond. "How are you? You seem a little tired."
"The week has been busy."
"Aw, I'm sorry. Are you currently at a schedule?" You tilt your head. You see him look off to the side. You can see that he seems to be hiding something, but you figure it was because he couldn't talk about anything specific related to any of the filmed comeback videos.
"Yeah, we are staying at a hotel. We are going to start filming soon." He sighs. "It was a last minute decision since filming took longer than expected yesterday. I wish I could tell you everything that went wrong but I can't."
"I'm sure it'll go better today, love."
 "Thank you, jagiya. But enough about me, jagiya, how are you? Are you excited for tomorrow?"
"A mix of excited and nervous. Excited to have my degree... nervous for whatever comes next. Nervous about walking across that stage to get that empty diploma case and not having a solid next thing waiting for me." You press your lips together and glance over to your cap and gown hanging in your open closet. The whole ordeal almost seems daunting now. "I've applied for jobs in my field but I haven't heard anything back... I doubt any will get back to me when I am fresh out of university."
"I wish I was there with you, (Y/N)." He looked into the camera with a concerned expression. "You'll exceed at whatever you do. I know you will. You are smart and very determined."
"It's probably just all the nerves." You chuckle weakly.
"Just know myself and the others are cheering for you, even if we can't be there. Which, we are still sorry for by the way."
"Don't worry about it. I'll have my family film my walk across the stage and we will take lots of pictures to send to you all."
"We look forward to it." He smiles. You hear a door opening and what you believe to be Hongjoong's voice. You couldn't make out what he said but you saw Seonghwa nod before hearing the door close. "Sorry, (Y/N), I have to go. We need to get ready for filming today."
"Don't apologize, love. You got this. I'm sure you will do great." You smile and you can just tell some of the stress he was feeling dissipate. 
"I love you, jagiya." He says softly.
"I love you too." There is some hesitancy to hang up but you bit the bullet and pressed the little red button on the call. You sigh, but feel lighter. It was like talking to Hwa helped calm your worries.
---
You stood with your family for a moment before you needed to join the rest of the graduating students. You stood with them in your cap and gown and a nice outfit underneath. You couldn't help but wring your hands together. You weren't necessarily nervous, but you did feel a little anxious from the excitement now. You felt you childhood best friend place their hand on your shoulder and they give you a calm smile.
"It's going to be fine, (Y/N)." They gently squeezed your shoulder. "I doubt you'll trip, so don't worry."
"Well I wasn't worried about tripping until now." You groan. "I'm not nervous. I just... can't stay still."
"Oh (Y/N), it's okay to be nervous." Your mother coos, rubbing small circles into your upper back. "Just think about the surprise we have planned for you."
"Surprise?"
"Hun, you weren't suppose to mention that." Your father chuckles. 
"I thought I told you all I needed was just a nice dinner at my favorite restaurant." You say softly. "I hope you didn't spend too much-"
"Don't worry about it. We wanted to get you something for such a big day." Your father grinned. You were going to argue back but heard the call for graduating students to start getting in place for the ceremony.
"Make sure to film my walk please!" You said and they nodded. Your family and your best friend gives you one last hug before you go to where you were supposed to, while they went off to grab seats.
You take a deep breath as you find your spot in line with the rest of your majors getting the same degree level as you and your roommate, who also was graduating alongside you. You smiled at some of your classmates you were friendly with and chatted with them. You were given a slip of paper with your name on it by one of your professors and you were left to wait for the ceremony to start. 
You felt your phone buzz under your gown. You were glad you picked something to wear underneath with pockets. You manage to get your phone out and you smile. All of Ateez were wishing you well and saying their congrats. San even sent a selfie of them all together, which they said was taken after they finished filming. You were glad they messaged you and made sure to tell them to get some rest since it was around 6am for them.
The line you were in started moving so you quickly put your phone away and started walking with your line. You can hear lots of chatter from other graduating students and could hear the chatter from people in the stands. You and the others stood still until you heard one of the deans call you guys to enter. You hear the crowd cheer as the graduating class enters the area. You tried to pinpoint your family and your best friend but had no luck finding them in the sea of people. You take your seat and wait for the rest of the graduate students to also take their seats as the stereotypical graduation march song plays.
The song ended when everyone was finished sitting down. Next were speeches by the college president, a provosts, and a dean whom you never personally interacted with, and then two professors spoke; one is the chair of your major which made you smile. Next were student speeches, neither person you recognized.
You gulp, watching as the rows ahead of you go up one by one as they were instructed by a professor to do so. There was the constant noise of clapping with each name, followed by a few people loudly cheering for whoever just got called. You clapped along as well, watching each person receive their diploma case from the college president and walk to the side to get their picture taken professionally.
Next thing you knew the people in your row started to stand. You quickly got to your feet and follow along to the stage. You wait, taking small steps as person by person hands over their name slip and walk the stage. You were getting closer and closer to the speakers stand.
Then, it's your turn.
You made conscious steps to the speaker, not wanting to trip. You hand them your name card and wait as the person ahead finished crossing the stage. The speaker smiled and read your name into the microphone. You start walking across stage to the president as the crowd clapped.
You hear loud cheers coming from the stand on the other side of the stage, more than what you were expecting from the three people there seeing you graduate. You finally see your parents and your best friend up on their feet, your dad and friend shouting loudly. But in the row in front of them, you see eight figures also on their feet shouting as loud as they can. Immediately you can tell it is Ateez. Even with face masks, different hats, and inconspicuous clothes, you could tell they were your boys. Plus, you can easily tell Wooyoung and Mingi's voices as they were the loudest and most distinct.
A large smile broke out on your face as you kept your tears at bay. You walked the stage with your head held high. You shook hands with the college president and took hold of the diploma case. You walked to the end of the stage and carefully took the steps down. You got your picture taken and you started walking back to your seat.
You look up at the stand when you heard your name shouted repeatedly by Wooyoung, San, and Seonghwa. Each member of Ateez waved as you walked by and you made sure to wave back. You felt pure happiness in the moment.
---
When the ceremony ended and all the graduates exited the way they walked in, you immediately started making your way outside. Your parents texted saying they were waiting for you by the large oak tree. You weave your way through the sea of students and their families as fast as you could. You could see the top of the tree but you knew the trunk was still some distance away from where the ceremony was held. 
You finally breach the crowd and see your parents, your best friend, and Ateez, along with their manager. They spotted you and called your name. You immediately quickened your pace.
Wooyoung held out his arms for a hug but you passed him and immediately clung to Seonghwa. The tears you held back immediately fell as you hugged him.
"Y-You're here! I can't believe you're here! Hongjoong said you guys were busy. You said you-" You rapidly spoke.
"Slow down, jagiya." Seonghwa chuckles. He held you tightly and rubbed your back. 
"Sorry, my love." You sniffle and look to his face. Despite the black mask covering his nose down to his jaw, you can tell he has a big grin on his face. He moves a step back from you, resting his hands on your jaw. The pads of his thumbs swipe away your tears gently. "I'm so happy to see you in person again."
"I'm happy too." He carefully guided you to turn around so he could move back in front of you, his back to the crowd. He pulls down his mask and leans in, his soft lips meet yours in a loving kiss. You couldn't help but smile against his lips as it felt like world around each of you melted away. You both slowly pulled away but kept your faces close. "Congratulations. I am so proud of you, (Y/N)." He whispers and kisses each cheek, making you giggled. 
"Congratulations, (Y/N)!" Wooyoung broke the moment of peace between you both as he pulled you into a big hug. You tilt your head back and laugh, all while there rest of Ateez swarmed you for their own hugs. Your face ached from how much you were smiling.
"Seonghwa contacted us a week after you had us do that video call with him." Your mother started to explain. You remember that day well, feeling nervous for your parents to meet your long distance, idol boyfriend. But they immediately loved him and exchanged contact information; mostly just in case you got in an emergency so they could inform him. Subsequently, of course, your parents met the rest of Ateez. "They wanted to surprise you and here they are."
"Sorry I lied to you, (Y/N)." Hongjoong laughed, his smile telling you he was anything but apologetic. "Yuhno suggested the idea of it being a surprise when I ran into him before I talked it over with our company. So really, blame him."
"Hey, you could of said no, Joong-hyung." Yuhno playfully glared then set his sights on Seonghwa. "Didn't you initiate the call with her parents?"
"Yes, but Sannie and Woo also sat in on the call too." Seonghwa shot back. The group delved into a big, non-serious argument of who is to blame for the lies. You shook your head with a chuckle and went to your parents.
"Thank you for arranging this." You hug them both tightly.
"Of course, (Y/N). We could see how happy you were when we met him and how yourself you were with the rest of the group, so we knew we had to put this together for you somehow." Your father had a big smile on his face, you could see tears in his eyes. "Oh, my child is all grown up..."
"I've been grown up, dad. Don't cry, you're going to make me cry again." You chuckle, feeling that sting of tears again in your eyes. You feel arms wrap around you from behind and you knew immediately it is Seonghwa. "Did you guys settle who's fault it is, love?"
"No, but it seems everyone puts the blame back on Hongjoong." He laughs. He smiles at your parents and gives them a polite bow of his head. The rest of Ateez joined back up with your parents and your best friend. They started discussing dinner plans, you jumping in when needed for translation help.
Your smile doesn't leave your face as you lean back into Seonghwa. You could have just cheap take out with everyone and you'd be happy.
---
You said goodbye to your parents and best friend when everyone arrived back at your apartment after dinner. They wanted to let you have some time alone with Ateez. Your parents managed to reserve a private space at a great restaurant ran by a friend of your mother's. The manager went to buy snacks and drinks for the rest of you guys for tonight at a near by convenience store.
"Wow you have a nice place, (Y/N)." Yeosang compliments as he looks at the various decorations and how you and your roommate placed the minimal furniture.
"Thanks, it was a collaborative effort with my roomie. Which, be as loud as you guys want. She won't be in for a few nights since she'll be staying with her family." You smile and turn go to put leftovers from dinner in the fridge, missing the way everyone looked towards Seonghwa. "How long are you here for?"
"Just the rest of tonight. We fly back early in the morning tomorrow. We may have pulled this off but we still have busy schedules coming up." Jongho answers.
"Sorry we can't stay longer." San sighs with an apologetic smile.
"No worries, I'm happy you guys made it for today." You grin and move to sit next to Hwa on the couch, immediately leaning against him. "So I take it you guys flew in last night? Is that why you were actually in a hotel, love?"
He chuckles and nods, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. His fingers gently traced patterns on your arm. "I'm glad we got to witness this."
"Of course, I'd do the same for you guys."
"Well, if you would..." Mingi smiles as he walks in front of you, holding out several small pieces of paper for you. You gingerly take them, and look at everyone with confusion and curiosity as they surrounded the couch. Wooyoung took his spot next to you and rested his chin on your shoulder, aka, on Seonghwa's hand.
"Oh my God." You gasp as you look at each paper. They chuckled at your shock. There were several plane tickets; one to South Korea, a round trip ticket to Japan and then back to Korea, and then one back home. The next paper was a pass for the waterbomb festival coming up.
"We will email you the actual virtual tickets soon." Wooyoung said with a big grin.
"A graduation present from us and our manager." Seonghwa kissed your temple.
"This had to be so expensive..."
"Don't worry about it at all. We didn't have to pay for the waterbomb ticket and we all chipped in for the flights." Yuhno said softly from behind the couch. You felt his hand pat the top of your head a few times. There was a knock at the door and the tallest went to open the door for their manager,  who came in with two, black plastic bags and one backpack. You quickly got up to your feet and approached him with a smile.
"Thank you for all you have done."
"I should thank you for helping me keep them in line." He chuckles and hands you the plastic bags. He walks over to the couch and sets the backpack at Seonghwa's feet. "Remember, we have a flight back to Korea tomorrow. Don't drink too much. (Y/N), drink all you want."
Some time passed and everyone was lounging around in the living room of your apartment. Mingi, San, and Wooyoung took over the couch. Jongho, Yuhno, Yeosang, and their manager sat in chairs from the small kitchen table. You, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong were sitting on the floor, all while everyone watched a trashy, American reality show. You were sitting between Hwa's legs with your back against his chest while he rested against San's legs.
You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You fish it out and unlock it, seeing it was an email notification. You tapped the notification, though you didn't read what it was for, figuring it was a promotional thing or something. You looked up at the tv screen for a moment before taking a moment to read over the contents of the email.
Your eyes slowly widened with each line you read. You felt your heart flutter as you sit up straight. You felt Seonghwa's hands on your hips and he had a curious look on his face.
"(Y/N)? What's wrong?" He asks softly, trying not to draw everyones attention. He leans forward and you can feel his chest on your back again, his chin on your shoulder. You raise your phone screen up so he can have an easier time reading the email. You turn your head just enough to see his expression turn to one of shock. You felt him wrap his arms around your waist and hold you tight as a big smile broke out on his face. "Does... Does this mean...?"
"What's happening?" Sannie asked from the couch. He leaned forward as well and you pass him your phone. You can practically feel the excitement oozing from Seonghwa. San suddenly stood up, knocking into the eldest's back. He had a huge grin, his dimple prominent on his face. 
Wooyoung snatched your phone from San and you watched as his eyes scan over the screen. He then looks up at you with a big smile. "No way!"
"Care to share with the rest of us?" Mingi asked while Yeosang muted the channel. 
"Well-" San started to speak but then clasps his own hand over his mouth for a moment. He hands you back your phone and sits back down. He eagerly gestures for you to speak. You feel Hwa's hands gently squeeze your hips.
"A job I applied for contacted me and told me they were looking for fresh faces and say they see potential with my resume, my CV, and from my letters of recommendation." You beamed and everyone looked excited for you. A sea of congratulations soon followed. You kept your beaming expression and you see Hongjoong look at you.
"There is more, isn't there?" He asked, a smile growing on his face.
"The job is located in Seoul. And they are allowing me to start towards the end of the year to give me time to get my legal documents situated and to move." 
There was a moment of silence.
Then, your apartment became chaos with pure excitement. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and San already pledged themselves to help you find a place in your upcoming visit. Mingi and Yuhno express excitement for the prospect of staying over at your new place. Yeosang, Jongho, and Hongjoong already start to make plans for when you start living there. Everyone decides to have one more drink to celebrate, their manager unable to say no to such an occasion.
---
You give each member a hug as they are about to leave for the night, saying your goodbyes. You move to hug Seonghwa but he sidesteps you and moves to stand behind you. You give him a confused look while the others chuckle.
"I'm staying with you tonight, jagiya." He pecked your cheek. The others say goodnight, their manager telling him to be read by 7am, and they all quickly leave. Now, it's just you and Seonghwa. 
"That's why he brought a backpack for you." You laugh and turn to face him. You place your hands on the back of his neck and raise a brow. "You've been nothing but surprises today. I really do appreciate it." 
"Of course. I'd do just about anything for you." He smiles sweetly and leans in to kiss you. Unlike the other kisses you two shared today, this one was longer and more passionate. You can feel his lips move against yours as he swipes his tongue along your bottom lip. You smile against the kiss. Before you could part your lips, he pulls away with a flirtatious look. 
"I love you, love." He smiles at your words. He lifts his hand up and gently traces his fingers down the side of your face, sending shivers down your spine. His arms wrap around your body and he keeps you pressed against him.
"I love you too, jagiya." He brings you into another intense kiss, his tongue invading your mouth this time. You feel his fingers curl in against your back, all while your hands find themselves in his hair. He breaks the kiss once more but rests his forehead against yours. "Would you like to celebrate a little more? We don't have to go further than this-"
"I would love to." You grin. You move from Seonghwa's grasp and take his hand, pulling him to your bedroom.
The second you closed the door, Hwa is already guiding you to your bed. He lays you down on your back while he crawls over you, his lips pressed against yours. His hands grip your hips before he starts to slide them under your shirt. He shifts his leg, placing it between your thighs. His knee is just barely brushes against your core. His hands start to gently kneed your breasts over your bra.
Seonghwa starts to trail tender kisses down from your mouth to your neck. You smile at the affection and you place a kiss of your own on the top of his head. He smirked against your neck as he gently bites your skin. You feel him shift his leg that was between your legs, applying a small amount of pressure against your cunt. You let out a soft noise from the sensation and you can feel yourself growing wetter and wetter.
You move one your hands down to the growing bulge in his pants. Seonghwa chuckled and sat up, taking your hand off him.
"Tonight is all about you, jagiya." He smiled softly. He took hold of both your wrists in his hand and held them above your head. "Let me worship you."
You felt a pleasant shiver down your spine again and you nod. Hwa let go of your hands and began kissing your neck again. This time his kisses and bites to your neck were more intense. You knew for sure you would have a couple of marks there. He released his hold on your wrists but you kept your arms about head. Your body is completely at his mercy and that had you excited.
You felt him press his leg against your aching core again and this time you rolled your hips to seek pleasure, causing yourself to moan.
"Good, jagiya." Seonghwa chuckles as he moves his face by your ear. You feel his lips brush against your ear before he gently nips it. He sat up and helped you up as well.
He hums softly, tracing his nose along your face before he kisses you again. He gently nibbles your bottom lip and stares deeply into your eyes. Hwa licks his lips as he leans down and scans your body with his eyes. You feel his hand take hold of your shirt and slowly lift it up and off your body. His fingers nimbly unclasps your bra and he tosses it off your body. 
Seonghwa's hands caress and gently squeeze your breasts, the pads of his thumbs were on your nipples as he rubbed small circles with them.  He hummed with a smile. "I missed these."
You chuckle softly. "You missed my boobs?"
"Yes." He moves himself so his face his close to them. "I missed all off you, (Y/N). I missed your face, your touch, your taste... I missed seeing your smile in person, I missed hearing your laugh right beside me. I miss you."
"I miss you too Hwa." You give his cheek a tender peck. You bite your bottom lip as his hands still kneaded your breasts and his thumbs applied some pressure. "Luckily I got that job. I'll be a lot closer to you by next year."
"Still feels so far away." He whispers and starts kissing your chest. He bites the skin and sucks, doing this until he reached your nipples. His mouth encompasses the pebbled skin. You bring one of your hands up to his head and combed your fingers through his hair. He sucks and gently nibbles, his tongue rolling over your perked bud. He does this to both nipples for a few moments before pulling away, a line of saliva briefly hangs between his lips and your skin. "I want to try something, jagiya." 
"What do you want to try, love?"
"Would you want to sit on my face and let me pleasure you?" His question makes your face flush with heat. 
"You'd want to do that? Are-Are you sure you want me to sit on your face?" You can feel yourself getting more wet by the second.
"Of course." He smiles sweetly. He sits up straight so he can meet your eyes easily, his hands slide down and gently hold onto your hips. "Like I said, jagiya, I missed your taste and I think you will look breathtaking doing so... Do you want to try this out with me?"
"Then... I would like to." You bite your bottom lip and smile. His face broke out in a grin and he helped you off your lap. He moves to lay down as you slip off your pants and underwear. You move yourself up the bed near his head and carefully placed your leg on the other side of his head. His hands slid up from behind your thighs and your ass to hold your hips. You hovered over his face, looking down at him between your legs. You were a bit hesitant to lower yourself down though. "Are you sure-"
You didn't even get to finish your question when you felt Seonghwa pull you down to his mouth. Immediately his tongue went to work against you clit. You moan, one hand bracing yourself against the wall while you bury the fingers of the other in his dark hair. A vibrator certainly worked wonders, but there is something else about his tongue. He moved his up and down against your clit before moving it in circles clockwise.
"Hwa..." You say, almost sounding breathless. He simply hums and continues his ministrations with his tongue. He nuzzles his faces against your cunt and adjust his mouth so he could lap you up. Seonghwa's tongue briefly pushes against your clit and then you feel his lips wrap around your sensitive bud, gently sucking on it. Instinctively you bite your lip to hold back your moan, making him lightly slap your ass, not enough to hurt but to get a point across. He lifts you just enough to free his mouth so he could speak.
"You said your roommate is gone for the night?" He asks and you give him a quick 'yes.' You felt his lips curl into a smile. "Then don't hold back, jagiya. It's just us."
You feel his tongue move against you again in all the right ways, making you moan again. You didn't hold it back this time and you could tell Hwa is pleased with that. He shifted underneath you and he buries his face into your cunt, he continued to gently suck and swirl his tongue around your clit. His ministrations had you squirming, slowly rocking your hips against him, and you were making all sorts of noises. 
"Seonghwa..." You whimper. You speaking his name in such a manner had him groan in pleasure. You feel him shift yet again, his grip on your hips firm. His tongue is off your clit and you feel his tongue swirl around your entrance. He penetrates you and thrusts with his tongue while his nose brushed against your swollen bud. His mouth is working wonders on your and you can feel yourself getting closer to an orgasm. Hwa doesn't relent, keeping the pleasure going and keeping you relatively still with his hands holding onto your hips. "Fuck... Hwa I'm-!"
Your walls fluttered around his tongue. You feel your thigh muscles tighten and they press against his head. A loud noise of pleasure leaves your lips as you throw your head back. Hwa squeezes and lightly massages your hips as you climax, his tongue slowly slides out from your hole and gently licks your cunt. He waits a few moments before gently guiding you off his face. You lift a leg and sit next to his head, your back against your headboard. 
Seonghwa quickly got up, licking his lips clean of your juices though his chin and nose still shined with your climax. He sits next to you and his hands caress your legs. He smiles at you, a look of satisfaction on his face, while you came down from your orgasm. 
"You have a little something on your face." You giggle and gesture around your own chin and nose. He chuckles and you watch as he swipes his fingers over his skin and then lick them clean.
"Better?" He whispers with a slight smirk. You can tell he was trying to be sexy but he still had some of your cum on him. You giggle softly making him blush and chuckle.
"Here, hold on for a moment." You get up from the bed and head out of your room to your bathroom. You grabbed a clean wash cloth, dampened it with some water, and returned to your bedroom. You hand Seonghwa the cloth and he gives you an appreciative smile, his cheeks and ears dusted with a subtle pink. You sit back down as he cleans off his face. He sets the cloth on your nightstand and looks back at you.
You watch as Seonghwa gets off the bed. His eyes scan your body with a smirk. Slowly, he took off his shirt and slid off his pants and boxers. Both of you were completely nude and you can see just how turned on he is. Hwa gets back onto your bed and gets right up to you, his face mere inches from yours.
"I love you so much, (Y/N)." He whispers. His hand comes up and gently caresses your jaw and neck.
"I love you too, Seonghwa." You smile at him, your tone soft and full of love. He smiles back and presses his lips against yours. His kiss is tender this time around. His hand cradles the back of your head to keep you in place, but you know you don't want to pull away in this moment. Your fingers graze the skin of his bare chest. You slowly brought them up to his collarbones and then his neck.
"Hmm, I want to take this all the way, jagiya." He pauses for a moment as his eyes look down at your body and then back at your face. He smirks. "I want to hear all those lovely noises you make."
"If I get to ride you, my love." You say in a sensual tone. His smirk crumbles to a flustered look at your suggestion, but he still smiles regardless.
"Is that what you want?"
"Yes." You nod and he bites his bottom lip. Seonghwa moves and sits down, his back against the headboard now. You grin, moving to stand on your legs before you throw your leg over his lap, effectively straddling him. His hands are once again on your hips as he pulls your body against his. He has a lustful and excited smile on his face.
"Condoms? I brought some-"
"No, it's fine. I trust you and I'm still taking birth control." You smile.
You reach behind and grab the shaft of Seonghwa's cock. You carefully drag his tip through your wet folds to tease him a little. You line him up to your entrance and look at his face. He gives a small nod for you to continue and you do so. You slowly lower yourself down, languidly taking him inside you. You both let out a soft moans. You sat in his lap, your hands grip his shoulders, while his cock fully inside you and you take a moment to savor the feeling.
"Ah, you feel so good, jagiya." Seonghwa mumbles, his lips barely brush against yours. You can feel his hot breath but you didn't care. His eyes were half-closed as he stared deeply into yours. You can feel his hands caressing your hips, thighs, and ass. His length twitches inside and you can tell he is full of anticipation for you to start moving. Hwa gives you a sweet smile, which contrasts with the current, steamy situation. "Take your time. You have control right now until you want me to take over."
"Thank you, love." You whisper softy and peck his lips. You wait a full two minutes before you started moving. You take a slow and steady pace, your thigh muscles flexing as you raise yourself up and down on his cock. Seonghwa's hands firmly held your hips yet he made no effort to control your movements, he simply assisted you so you wouldn't be doing all the work. 
"This feels nice." Hwa murmurs and leans his head down, his lips pressing against your neck. You feel his teeth graze your skin and he gently nips at your neck.
"Feels s'good." You moan softly. You rock your hips at a pleasurable pace. It is a very sensual moment between you both. It was just you and him, nothing else mattered. He raised his head from your neck and pressed his forehead against yours. He looked at you with pure adoration and love. His hands slide to your lower back and then moved up to your shoulder blades. You feel his arms against your sides as he hugged you close to his chest. You still moved your hips at a slow pace. 
This is a moment of passion and pleasure, but also a moment of love and bliss.
You sunk all the way down on him and gently grind your hips against him, feeling pleasure come from your clit grazing his pubic mound. Seonghwa smiles at you, enjoying how you look getting yourself off on him. He kiss your cheek and his lips linger to you skin for a few moments. You feel his fingertips press into your back and rub small circles on your skin.
You returned to moving yourself up and down on his cock. You increased your speed, sometimes focusing on his tip and then rotating to taking him all the way. Regardless  of what you did, he was moaning and groaning at all your movements. His hands were back on your hips as you leaned away from him with your hands gripping his shoulders. You both wanted to see your faces.
You feel a coil-like sensation in your lower stomach as pleasure builds up again. Your breathing is harsh and deep, and you can feel your legs getting tired... but you wanted to keep going. Seonghwa could see and feel how you your stamina is waning. He smiles sweetly and leans forward to capture your lips in a passionate yet short kiss.
"Relax, jagiya." His voice is smooth and low. He holds your hips and stops your movements. Seonghwa then starts to thrust his hips up at a quick pace. A loud moan escapes your lips as you cling on to him. He leaned forward and nibbles on your neck while you feel one of his hands move from your hip to your pubic mound. Hwa pressed his thumb over your swollen clit and started rubbing circles.
"O-Oh, Hwa..." You whimper out. You feel that heat building up more and more inside you.
"Hng- You're amazing, (Y/N)."He moaned as well, moving his head away from your neck to stare at your face. You can see he was getting close to his own release by the erotic expression on his face. 
"I-I think... I'm going to cum again." You whisper, feeling that all too familiar feeling crawl up your legs. You looked at him with all the love you could muster. The intimacy and intense feelings all added to your impending orgasm. The way the head of his cock hit that sweet spot inside you just right and his thumb swirling and applying the correct amount pressure sent you over the edge. You lean forward with your forehead against his as a loud whine leaves your mouth, your walls fluttering around his cock.
"(Y/N)-!" He groaned, still thrusting into your cunt. He stared intensely into your eyes, chasing his own climax. His breathing grows ragged and his thrusts became off rhythm. A moan tumbles from his lips as he sloppily kisses you, thrusting one last time. You feel his cock twitch inside you as his cum coats your walls. He keeps himself fully sheathed inside you as you both catch your breaths.
"Seonghwa..." You murmur, your body slumping against his, resting your head on his shoulder. His arms wrap around you and his hands gently grip the skin of your back. You feel his warm breath fan over the back of your neck as he leveled out his breathing. Seonghwa made a noise that sounded like a mix of a sigh and a moan as he rests his head against yours.
Neither of you said anything further. Seonghwa keeps his arms tight around you while you equally clinged to him. Nothing really needed to be said in this moment, the high emotions you both shared spoke enough.
Minutes passed when you finally speak up.
"We should probably clean up and get you to bed." You whisper to him, pulling your head back to look over this face.
"I want to stay like this, jagiya." He murmurs, placing his lips on your neck. "I feel so close to you like this... "
"I know, love, but we have to be up early." Hwa groaned at this, which makes you laugh.
"Stop being right."
"Come on... let's take a shower, Hwa." He reluctantly helps you off his lap, his softening length now out of you. You both get off from your bed and you lead him out your room to your bathroom. His hands remained on your waist as you both walked and then waited for the shower water to warm up. He didn't want to let go of you just yet.
After the shower and after drying off, you both go back into your room to change into comfortable clothes to sleep in. He laid down first, slipping under the covers. When you joined him, you laugh when his arms pulled you flush against his body. Seonghwa tucks your head under his chin and he holds you firmly in his arms. You chuckle and hold him just as tightly.
"I don't want to let go of you again... this feels like it's going to be harder than when you when you visited." He says with a sigh.
"I know, Hwa, I know." You mumble, already feel an ache in your chest. "Let's savor the rest of tonight together."
There is a pause.
"I love you, (Y/N)."
"I love you too, Seonghwa."
Morning came too fast your liking. You and Seonghwa awoke with your limbs practically tangled. His warmth despite the temperatures warming outside is comforting in the moment. You both reluctantly got dressed and made Hwa a light breakfast.
A little before 7am, Ateez and their manager came back over to pick Seonghwa up and of course came to say goodbye. You got an earful of teasing when they see the blemishes and marks Hwa left on your neck. You hugged each member and of course your hug lingered on Hwa, with you both gently caressing each other's backs for comfort.
Goodbyes were harder this time around, but you still had that ray of optimism due to your move to South Korea. It will be rough, but with Seonghwa, the rest of Ateez, and even their manager, you knew it would be a feat you'll overcome.
Your new horizon awaits you and your life with Seonghwa seems to be on the right track.
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