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lila-lou · 5 months ago

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✨ His second exception - Pt. 1/? ✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! NO Smut but BIG TRIGGER WARNING, Language, Ben being hurt, Reader being hurt, soft Ben, sad Ben - it´s STILL a fucking mess

Word Count: 5620

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 1 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

Ben’s chest began to glow, the swirling energy a manifestation of the intense emotions he could barely contain. The rage, the sorrow, and the helplessness threatened to consume him. He clenched his fists, struggling to keep his powers in check.

“Ben, you have to calm down”, Annie said softly, stepping closer. “You’re going to hurt yourself—and her—if you don’t”.

But Ben couldn’t hear her over the roar of his own anguish. He slammed his fist into the wall beside your bed, the impact reverberating through the room. “I failed them!”, he shouted, his voice cracking. “I couldn’t fucking protect them!”.

“You did everything you could”, Butcher said, his tone steady. “Right now, she needs you here, not losing control”.

Annie nodded in agreement, her eyes pleading. “Ben, please. For her sake, you have to stay calm”.

But Ben was too deeply lost in his emotions, his chest still glowing with a dangerous intensity. He was trembling with the effort of holding himself together, and it was clear he was on the verge of losing control.

Annie’s voice grew more urgent, her worry evident. “Butcher, get him out of here! Now!”.

Butcher tightened his grip on Ben’s shoulder, his own expression a mix of concern and determination. “Come on, mate. Let’s step outside”, he urged, trying to guide Ben towards the door.

But Ben was in his own world, unable to resist or calm down completely. His chest glowed brighter with each passing second, the raw power within him threatening to erupt. Butcher, sensing the urgency, made a split-second decision.

With a grunt of effort, Butcher sped Ben outside to the roof terrace. The night air did little to cool the fiery glow emanating from Ben’s chest. Desperation etched on his face, Butcher tried to reason with him one last time. “Ben, you’ve got to get a grip”.

But Ben’s eyes were wild, unfocused, lost in the torrent of his own emotions. Butcher clenched his jaw, knowing he had to do something drastic. With all his strength, he swung a punch, connecting squarely with Ben’s jaw. The force of the blow sent Ben staggering back.

For a moment, everything was still. Ben blinked, the shock of the hit bringing a momentary clarity. His chest still glowed, but the intensity had lessened. He looked at Butcher, confusion and pain evident in his eyes.

“Snap out of it, Soldier Boy!”, Butcher barked, his voice echoing in the night air. “She needs you to be strong, not falling apart!”.

Ben shook his head, trying to shake off the lingering haze. The punch had grounded him, bringing him back to reality.

Three single Tears rolled down Ben’s cheeks, streaking through the grime and blood. It was the first time Butcher had ever seen Ben cry. The sight was both jarring and heartbreaking. For a moment, Butcher struggled to find the right words, his own feelings of helplessness threatening to overwhelm him.

“She… I… Homelander killed my child! We lost our baby”, Ben whispered, his voice raw with anguish.

Butcher took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He placed a firm hand on Ben’s shoulder, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I know, mate. And I know it hurts like hell”, Butcher said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “But she’s still alive. She needs you now more than ever”.

Even though Butcher and Ben didn’t get along very well, in this moment, Butcher told Ben exactly what he needed to hear. The raw honesty in Butcher’s words cut through Ben’s grief, anchoring him to the reality of the situation. Ben needed to get himself together for you, even though the pain he felt was beyond anything he’d ever experienced.

“I know it feels like you’re drowning”, Butcher continued, his voice steady. “But you’re stronger than this. She needs you to be strong, to be there for her”.

Ben nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to push down the overwhelming grief and anger. He wiped at his face, smearing the tears and blood even more. “I can’t lose her”, he whispered, his voice cracking.

“You won’t”, Butcher said firmly. “Not if you stay focused. One step at a time, Soldier Boy. You’ve faced worse and come out the other side. You can do this”.

Ben rubbed his face hard, the pressure intense enough that it would have broken bones if he had been merely human. With a deep breath, he gave Butcher a simple, determined nod before turning and heading back inside.

Inside the room, the harsh lights illuminated your pale, unconscious form. The beeping of the machines monitoring your vitals created a steady rhythm, a reminder of the fragile thread that held you to life. Ben’s heart ached at the sight, but he steeled himself. He needed to be strong for you, for both of you.

Annie looked up as Ben re-entered, her eyes filled with concern. She didn’t say anything, sensing that Ben needed a moment alone with you. She quietly stepped out, leaving the two of you together.

Ben approached your bedside, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of movement. He gently took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m here, Baby”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere”.

The room was silent except for the steady beeping of the machines and the faint hum of the hospital. Ben sat down beside you, his grip on your hand firm but gentle. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to center himself, drawing strength from the depth of his love for you.

After a few moments, he opened his eyes and looked at you, his expression filled with determination. “We’re going to get through this”, he said softly. “I promise you. No matter what it takes, we’re going to be okay”.

The weight of his promise settled over him, but he embraced it. He would be there for you, no matter the cost. As he sat by your side, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. You needed him, and he would not let you down.

Hours passed, and the night gave way to the first light of dawn. Ben remained by your side, his eyes never leaving your face. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally, but he refused to let himself rest. He had to be there when you woke up.

Butcher and Annie checked in periodically, offering support and reassurance. But for the most part, they gave Ben the space he needed.

Ben's hand softly rested over your still swollen belly, but there was no heartbeat anymore. His jaw clenched, a wave of anguish washing over him, but he fought to keep his emotions in check. With a trembling breath, he whispered towards your belly, his voice choked with sorrow.

"I'm so sorry", he murmured. "I failed you. I failed to protect you, to keep you safe". Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill over, but he blinked them back.

"I promised to keep you both safe", he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I couldn't. I'm so sorry".

The weight of his guilt hung heavy in the air, but he couldn't bring himself to move away from you. He stayed by your side, his hand resting over your belly, a silent vow to never forget the life that had been lost.

Ben's heart shattered at the thought of the loss of his baby. The pain was unbearable, gnawing at him with relentless intensity. He couldn't even begin to imagine how you would react when you woke up and learned the devastating news. The mere thought of your grief tore at his soul, threatening to consume him with its ferocity.

As he sat by your side, his hand still resting over your belly, his heart ached with a profound sense of loss. The weight of his failure weighed heavily on him, the guilt and sorrow threatening to drown him in their depths.

48 hours passed in a haze of grief and exhaustion for Ben. He hadn’t slept, barely eaten, consumed by the weight of his sorrow and the desperate hope that you would wake up. Butcher had to practically drag him out of your room to shower and change, reminding him that you wouldn’t appreciate the smell of blood and dirt when you finally regained consciousness.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ben felt a faint movement beneath his hand. His heart leaped with hope as he looked down at you, his eyes wide with anticipation. Your fingers twitched ever so slightly, a sign of life returning to your body.

For a moment, Ben couldn’t breathe, the rush of emotion overwhelming him. He leaned closer, his eyes fixed on your face as he waited with bated breath for any further sign of awakening. Time seemed to stand still as he held his breath, willing you to open your eyes and return to him.

As your eyelids fluttered open, revealing the depths of your gaze, Ben's heart swelled with relief.

"Hey, sweetheart", he whispered. "Welcome back".

Your voice, barely above a whisper, trembled as you asked him what had happened. Ben's heart clenched at the sound of your voice, filled with pain and confusion. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before responding.

"Hey, it's okay", he said softly, his voice soothing. "You were… you were hurt pretty bad. But you're here now, and that's all that matters".

As you tried to sit up, pain shot through your body, causing you to wince and sink back against the pillows. Ben's heart clenched at the sight of your discomfort, and he reached out to gently support you.

"Easy, easy", he murmured, his voice filled with concern. "You've been through a lot. Just take it slow".

He adjusted the pillows behind you, trying to make you more comfortable. His hands were gentle as he hovered nearby, his eyes never leaving your face, silently urging you to take care of yourself.

Your breathing was still uneven as Ben handed you something to drink, his movements careful and attentive.

"I'll go get the doctor", he murmured, already moving to stand up, but you stopped him with a trembling question.

"What about the baby?". Your voice wavered with emotion, your memories of the harrowing encounter with Homelander flooding back.

Ben's jaw clenched, his hands starting to shake slightly as he struggled to find the words. The pain in his eyes was evident as he met your already tear-filled gaze, but he couldn't bring himself to speak.

"Ben… please… don't", you choked on your own voice, the fear and anguish palpable in the air. Tears welled in your eyes, mirroring the ones that filled Ben's.

The tears in Ben's eyes spoke volumes, confirming your worst fears before he even said a word. Your heart shattered into a million pieces as you realized what had happened.

"No", you whispered, the word barely audible as a wave of anguish washed over you. Everything felt numb, the pain so raw it was almost unbearable.

Ben stood there, feeling utterly helpless as he watched you break down before him. Seeing you crying like that, consumed by grief and pain, tore at his heart in a way he couldn't even put into words. He knew he had to pull himself together, be there for you in your time of need.

With deliberate slowness, he sank down beside you, his movements cautious as he pulled you into his arms. You collapsed against him, your tears soaking through his shirt as you cried like you never had before.

He held you close, his arms a shelter against the storm of emotions raging within you. His own tears mingled with yours as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

As you cried against his chest, your sobs echoing in the sterile hospital room, Ben felt a pain unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was a raw, visceral ache that seemed to consume him from the inside out. Every tear that fell from your eyes felt like a dagger in his own heart, each sob tearing at his soul.

The sound of your crying was like a symphony of anguish, a haunting melody that echoed through the empty room. Each choked breath, each muffled sob, was a reminder of the loss you had both endured. It was a sound that Ben would never forget, etched into his memory like a scar.

But even as the pain threatened to overwhelm him, Ben held you tighter, refusing to let go. He knew that he couldn't take away your pain, couldn't undo what had been done. But he could be there for you, hold you close and offer whatever comfort he could in the face of such devastating loss.

As the doctor stepped into the room, followed closely by Butcher and Annie, they quickly assessed the situation and recognized the need for privacy. Sensing the raw emotion between you and Ben, they exchanged somber glances before silently retreating, leaving the two of you alone to grieve in peace.

The doctor's departure went unnoticed by both of you, lost in your own world of pain and sorrow.

In the stillness that followed, there were no words, no gestures—only the quiet rhythm of your breathing and the steady beat of Ben's heart against your own.

Ben gently stroked your back as you continued to sob against his chest. He tried to be strong for you, but when you saw his tears, it was a stark reminder of the depth of his pain. You knew he was hurting just as much as you were, and the thought only made your own grief feel heavier.

You clung to him desperately, seeking solace in his embrace, but the words eluded you. What could you say in the face of such profound loss? Instead, you buried your face against his chest, letting his presence anchor you in the midst of the turmoil.

An hour passed in heavy silence, the weight of grief hanging thick in the air. You and Ben remained locked in each other's embrace, still unable to find the words to express the depth of your pain. Numbness settled over you like a heavy blanket, leaving you feeling hollow and empty.

Finally, the doctor emerged into the room again, accompanied by a nurse. Their presence shattered the stillness, pulling you both back to the present moment. The doctor approached with gentle caution, his expression sympathetic as he spoke.

"I'm sorry to interrupt", he began softly, his voice carrying a note of compassion, "but I really need to check on your vitals now".

You and Ben exchanged a weary glance, both understanding the necessity of the doctor's request yet feeling reluctant to let go of each other, even for a moment. With a heavy sigh, Ben slowly released his hold on you, his touch lingering for a moment longer before reluctantly pulling away.

As the doctor began his examination, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, the only sound that seemed to cut through the fog of your grief.

Ben hovered nearby, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the turmoil. You could sense his silent support, his unwavering strength a source of solace in the midst of your pain.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor finished his examination, his expression grave as he studied the results.

The doctor's voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, his words registering dimly in your mind. "Your vitals are stable", he said, his tone gentle yet serious. "But we still need to perform a scraping procedure, as the pregnancy tissue didn't fully pass".

But you were too lost in your own grief to fully comprehend his words. Your mind felt foggy, disconnected from reality as you struggled to process the magnitude of your loss.

Beside you, Ben's stomach churned with a mix of anger and frustration. He clenched his jaw, his fists tightening at his sides as he listened to the doctor's explanation. The injustice of it all weighed heavily on him, fueling the fire of his emotions.

But as he looked at you, lost in your own pain, he knew that his anger could wait. Right now, you needed him more than ever, and he would do whatever it took to support you through this ordeal.

"I'll give you both a moment to process everything", the doctor said softly, before quietly leaving the room.

Tears welled up in your eyes once again. Choking back a sob, you struggled to find your voice amidst the overwhelming flood of emotions.

"I can't do this", you whispered hoarsely, your hand trembling as it found its way to your belly, the physical reminder of the life that had been taken from you far too soon.

Ben bit back his own tears, forcing himself to stay strong for you. He knew he had to be the one you could lean on. Gently, he took your trembling hand in his, his grip firm but tender.

"Hey", he began softly, his voice steady despite the pain in his eyes. "You are the strongest person I know. That's one of the reasons I fell in love with you. I know this hurts like hell, and it feels impossible, but you can do this. You have to. And I’ll be by your side every minute, I promise".

He squeezed your hand, his gaze never leaving your face. "We'll get through this together. I won't let you go through it alone".

You kept crying and sobbing, each breath a painful reminder of the immense loss you felt. Everything had happened so fast, and it still felt like you were trapped in a nightmare, unable to wake up. The reality of the situation was almost too much to bear.

Ben held you close, his arms wrapped securely around you. He whispered soothing words, his voice a steady presence in the midst of your turmoil. "It's okay to cry", he said softly. "It's okay to feel everything you're feeling. I'm here with you, and I'm not going anywhere".

Your sobs eventually began to quiet, the exhaustion of your grief taking its toll. You leaned into Ben, your head resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

The doctor and nurse waited patiently outside, giving you the time you needed.

Ben wouldn't leave your side, standing by you with unwavering support. He held your hand tightly, his grip a lifeline in the midst of the pain. As the doctor began the procedure, Ben's super hearing allowed him to hear every tiny movement, every scrape and shift inside your body. The sounds were almost too much to bear, each one feeling like a fresh wound being inflicted on his heart.

His eyes pressed shut, his jaw clenched, trying to keep his own emotions in check. He felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest, the sheer agony of your shared loss almost unbearable.

You felt the same anguish, tears rolling down your cheeks: The physical pain of the procedure was nothing compared to the emotional torment you were enduring. Every scrape felt like a reminder of the life you had lost, of the future that had been cruelly snatched away from you.

The procedure felt like it lasted an eternity, but eventually, the doctor finished, his movements careful and precise. He glanced up, his expression one of deep sympathy. "It's over", he said gently. "You did very well".

Ben squeezed your hand, his eyes filled with both relief and sorrow. "You did it", he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "It's over now".

After everything was done, Ben sat on your hospital bed, holding you close. Your upper body was curled on his lap, and you kept crying, the overwhelming grief consuming you. Losing your baby was the worst thing that had ever happened to you, but knowing it was Ben’s baby made it hurt even more.

You remembered the moment you told him you were going to keep the baby. You had never seen him so happy. The light in his eyes, the pure joy on his face—it was a dream he had never dared to dream, a wish he had never thought possible.

As Ben continued to stroke your back, his gaze fixed on the emptiness before him, a heavy silence settled over the room. The weight of your shared grief hung between you.

There was nothing Ben could say that would ease your pain, nothing he could do to erase the ache in his own heart. All he could do was hold you close.

For you, the grief was overwhelming, swallowing you whole until you felt like you were drowning in a sea of tears and sorrow.

In the following 24 hours, you were monitored closely by the medical staff to ensure you were fully healed from the procedure. Throughout it all, Ben never left your side. But despite the hours spent together, the two of you didn't exchange a single word.

The silence between you felt heavy, weighted down by the weight of your shared sorrow. Every glance, every touch carried with it the weight of unspoken words, the ache of loss palpable in the air.

Butcher and Annie sat in the meeting room, discussing plans with the construction team to rebuild the lobby and repair the damage of the tower.

The meeting was tense, the air heavy with the weight of recent events. Butcher and Annie conferred with the construction team, discussing timelines, budgets, and logistics for the rebuilding efforts. It was a daunting task, but one they were determined to see through to completion.

As the meeting drew to a close, Butcher and Annie exchanged a weary glance. With a nod of agreement, they rose from the table.

Annie leaned against the wall of Butcher's office, her arms crossed tightly. She glanced at Butcher, a furrow forming between her brows. "What do you think will happen now?", she asked, her voice low with concern. "Do you think Soldier Boy will be able to handle his emotions? Will he come back to lead?".

Butcher sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "Bloody hell, Annie, I don't know", he admitted gruffly. "The lad's been through a lot. Losing a kid… it's enough to drive anyone mad".

Annie nodded in agreement, her expression somber. "Yeah, I know. And as much as we may not be his biggest fans, we have to admit he's changed a bit for the better", she conceded. "And no one deserves to go through what he's going through right now".

Butcher grunted in reluctant agreement, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. "Aye, you're right", he muttered. "We'll just have to wait and see what happens. In the meantime, we've got our own mess to clean up".

Butcher rubbed his beard thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in concern. "Poor lass", he mumbled, his voice low with empathy. "She's probably a wreck right now".

Annie nodded, her expression mirroring Butcher's concern. "Yeah", she agreed softly. "I can't even imagine what she's going through".

Annie furrowed her brows, a hint of worry crossing her features. "Butcher, no one can know about the pregnancy", she reminded him firmly.

Butcher rolled his eyes, a grumble escaping him as he leaned back in his chair. "I'm not about to go broadcasting it to the bloody world". He paused for a moment. "Besides, I've known since the first time (Y/N) went pale in that meeting", he admitted. "Heard that little second heartbeat. Still didn't tell anyone".

Annie raised an eyebrow, surprised by Butcher's revelation. "You did?", she asked, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief in her voice.

Butcher nodded, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "Aye", he confirmed. "Couldn't bring myself to ruin their moment".

"Butcher, why didn't you say something?", Annie asked, her tone a mix of concern and curiosity.

Butcher shrugged. "Thought maybe having a kid, starting a family, would finally get Soldier Boy to step back and settle down", he explained, his voice tinged with resignation. "Thought maybe then, I could take the lead".

Annie nodded, understanding dawning on her face. "And now?", she asked softly, her gaze searching Butcher's face for answers.

"Now", Butcher replied with a sigh, "we wait and see what Soldier Boy decides to do next".

Back home, Ben walked slowly behind you, his every step mirroring your hesitation. He watched you closely, waiting for any signal of where you wanted to go or what you needed. The house felt emptier than ever, the silence almost unbearable.

You looked around a little lost, your eyes darting from room to room. The weight of recent events hung heavily in the air, making even the simplest decisions seem monumental. Eventually, you gravitated toward the kitchen.

Ben followed, his heart aching as he watched your movements. He didn't say anything, unsure of what words could possibly provide comfort. Instead, he stayed close, ready to support you in any way you needed.

Once in the kitchen, you hesitated by the counter, your hands trembling slightly as you reached for a glass. Ben stepped forward, gently taking it from you and filling it with water. He handed it to you with a look of quiet concern.

"Take your time", he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm here".

Ben’s words buzzed through you, each syllable a reminder of the pain you were trying to process. You didn’t even know why, but you didn’t want to hear his voice, didn’t want to hear anything. With a heavy sigh, you set the glass of water aside and reached for one of his whiskeys from the cabinet.

Ben watched silently as you grabbed the bottle, his heart aching at the sight. He knew you were struggling, but seeing you turn to alcohol for solace made the situation feel even more desperate. You took a big sip straight from the bottle, the burn of the whiskey a stark contrast to the numbness you felt inside.

For a moment, Ben considered saying something, but he held back. He knew you needed time to process everything, to find your own way through the grief. Instead, he stepped back, giving you space while still staying close enough to support you if you needed him.

You took another sip, the warmth of the whiskey spreading through your chest, momentarily dulling the ache. The silence in the kitchen was heavy, filled with unspoken words and shared sorrow. Ben leaned against the counter, his eyes never leaving you, silently offering his presence as a lifeline in your sea of pain.

Ben crossed his arms over his chest, watching as you took one sip after another. His heart broke with each gulp, but he remained silent, knowing that pushing you might only drive you further away.

He wanted to reach out, to pull you into his arms and reassure you that you weren’t alone in this, but he didn’t know how. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, the words caught in his throat. Instead, he watched, hoping that his presence was enough for now.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ben took a tentative step forward. “You don’t have to go through this alone”, he said softly. “I’m here. Always”.

You paused, the bottle halfway to your lips, and glanced at him. For a moment, you saw the depth of his pain mirrored in his eyes, and it resonated with your own. The whiskey had dulled the edge of your grief, but it couldn’t erase it.

“Ben, I…”, you started, your voice cracking.

He uncrossed his arms and took another step closer. “C’mere”, he mumbled.

You set the bottle down, your hands trembling slightly. The moment you let go of the bottle, Ben stepped closer and pulled you into a tight hug. As soon as his arms wrapped around you, the floodgates opened, and you began to cry again, the sobs wracking your body.

Ben held you tightly, his own eyes welling up as he felt your pain wash over him. He stroked your back gently, trying to offer some semblance of comfort amidst the storm of emotions. "I'm here", he whispered, his voice thick with his own grief. "I'm right here".

You buried your face in his chest, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded. Each tear felt like a release, but also a reminder of the immense loss you both were enduring.

Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours—time seemed to blur in the intensity of your sorrow. Finally, your sobs began to quiet, and your breathing evened out, though the ache in your heart remained.

Feeling weak and exhausted from all the crying, you allowed Ben to carry you upstairs. He gently set you down on the edge of the bed, your limbs feeling as heavy as your heart, and you couldn't muster the energy to move. Ben knelt down in front of you, carefully pulling off your shoes.

His touch was gentle, and despite the exhaustion, you found comfort in the small act of care. Ben's hands lingered on your feet for a moment before he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and determination.

"Let's get you more comfortable", he said softly, his voice soothing despite the gravity of the situation.

You nodded weakly, too drained to argue or protest. Ben stood up and helped you out of your clothes, replacing them with a soft, oversized shirt. Every movement felt like it took immense effort, and you leaned heavily on him for support.

Once you were changed, Ben guided you under the covers, tucking you in with a tenderness that belied his usual rough exterior. He then climbed into bed beside you, pulling you close once again.

"You don't have to do anything right now", Ben whispered, his lips close to your ear. "Just rest".

You nestled closer to him, your body pressed against his as you sought the comfort only he could provide. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the familiar scent of him, all worked to slowly lull you into a state of half-awareness.

Ben's hand continued to stroke your back, his touch a constant reminder of his presence.

Eventually, you fell into a deep, exhausted sleep, your body finally succumbing to the overwhelming fatigue. Ben, however, couldn’t find the same respite. His eyes remained open, staring at the ceiling as his mind churned with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Once he was certain you were deeply asleep, he carefully slipped out of the bed, doing his best not to disturb you. He changed into a comfortable hoodie and sweatpants. Quietly, he made his way downstairs.

In the kitchen, he reached for the whiskey bottle you had left on the counter earlier. The amber liquid sloshed inside as he poured himself a generous amount, his hands shaking slightly. He stared at the glass for a moment, the reflections of the dim kitchen light dancing on the surface.

With a deep sigh, Ben took a long, slow sip, the burn of the alcohol offering a momentary distraction from the pain gnawing at his insides. He leaned against the counter, the glass cradled in his hands as he tried to process everything that had happened.

The silence of the house felt oppressive, amplifying the loneliness and despair that clung to him. He took another sip, the whiskey doing little to numb the ache in his heart. Memories of the past few days flashed through his mind: the joy of expecting his child, the devastation of the loss, and the unbearable sight of you in such deep sorrow.

Ben set the glass down, his grip tightening around it as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He was supposed to be the strong one, the protector, yet here he was, feeling completely helpless. The weight of his own grief, coupled with the need to be there for you, threatened to crush him.

He finished the whiskey in a few more gulps, the warmth spreading through his chest, though it did little to ease the cold emptiness inside. Ben poured himself another glass, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how to move forward. How could you both heal from such a loss? How could he be the support you needed when he felt so broken himself?

Taking one last sip, Ben set the glass aside and took a deep breath. He turned off the kitchen light and made his way back upstairs, the promise he had made to himself echoing in his mind. He slipped back into bed beside you, his arm wrapping around you protectively as he closed his eyes, trying to find some semblance of peace in the quiet of the night.

———————————

A/N: There it fucking is ._. Heartbreak included. I´m sooo sorry...but, please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 2

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings

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bon2bonn · 10 months ago

Text

Weathering Your Storm

°They're carving my name on the grave again°

22!F1!grid X female!driver!reader

Words count : 3.1k

Warnings : grammar, not proof read , contains time skips .

✨ It's finally going somewhere!💃🏻🙌🏻 ,and I hope you enjoy it✨

• The Grid M.list •

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Daniel groaned as he was tackled to the floor the moment he stepped foot in , all he heard was a shout of " uncle Dan" and the next thing he was rugby tackled , Marc greeted him with a wide toothy grin followed with an exited "hi!" , he chuckled and hugged him back " Marcelo!" Causing the boy to whine and throw his head back in frustration as Daniel lifted him when he stood " that's not my name !! " , Earning a laugh from Danny who ignored his whining throwing him over his shoulder emitting a loud scream followed by a laugh .

He shut the front door while asking " so Marcel! How's life ? " grabbed his bag and leaving it by the closed door , but as soon as he finished asking he earned himself a quite painful pinch in the back , yelping in pain as he made his way inside the house " you're as mean as your aunt!! " .

The said aunt voice ranged from the kitchen as she asked in a warning tone " what did you say RICKY?" , he called back before he stood at the door , " nothing but the truth!" Watching her Round the kitchen Island with little Gigi on her hip , who called out as soon as she saw him "Anny!" . (*She tried to call him Dan like Marc but couldn't say the D yet and it stuck with her as she went from calling him Dan to Danny making it worse, but Y/N found it too funny to correct her*) .

Now it was his turn to groan as Marc giggled from his back , but he greeted her back with as much enthusiasm " Gigi!" Making her giggle as she extended her arms out for him .

Stepping in he puts Marc carefully on the island with a teasing tone " special potato delivery! " Dodging before he got pinched again, taking Gigi in a hug , getting one back with a little pat on his cheek" hello miss Gigi " holding her in one arm greeting his friend with a quite "hey Bella" . She gave him a smile greeting back with open arms as he extended his free arm to bring her into a side hug leaving a kiss on the side of her head then he asked " how are you holding up?" She shrugged " getting better , It just takes time to get used to it " he hummed nudging her shoulder with his " knowing you , you'll be up and working in no time " she rolled her eyes at his words " you make it sounds like I'm an avid workaholic " scooping Marc off the island as he wanted to get down and watched as he ran out the kitchen , calling out for O'Connell to play with . he gave her a look " you are " .

She shook her head " well now I've got all the time in the world , isn't that right Gigi " he watched her closely as she turned away avoiding his eyes , so he teased her saying " then don't get too bored without me around, it's only a couple of months and we'll both be jobless together, we'll retire and go off hiking and making wine in Italy like we always planned " he balanced Gigi on her feet , holding her hands and smiling wide as she gripped his fingers in her hands babbling as she took wobbly steps, scrunching her nose as she blobbed down kicking her legs and giving a small shout at him , he apologized to her scooping her up as he reached the fridge, taking out two small juice boxes , he offered her to choose first , she looked at her aunt who was standing on the side looking at them in amusement, she held on Danny's arm and he let her lift it up as she called for Y/N as if asking her *if it's ok to have one* and once she got the approval she picked one and looked up at him pointing back at her high chair on the side , waiting patiently to be set down to drink her juice in peace .

Daniel took the other box , sipping as he sat down not wasting time to ask " so , how's it going miss CEO " she groaned plumbing on a chair close to where he sat " I was just approved by the board yesterday and I'll be starting officially September 1st " he cuts her off " wait! You were serious about the interview thing !?" , she nods " dead serious , they give fair chances , I won't just barg in demanding to run things just cause my dad owns it , so as I was saying, I'll be touring the main branches starting from headquarters here and ending with UAE so I'll be able to at least attend the last race , then I'll work between here , New York and Sydney " she finished in a huff and he winced at the packed schedule "that's rough , buuuuuut " she lets a quite laugh as he cheered at the news of her attending the last race Gigi cheered along after she puts down her drink , not knowing what happened but she joined the celebration nonetheless.

He stood up after a while excusing himself for a minute returning with his bag letting it down before facing her , rubbing the back of his head as she watched him curiously " since I'm flying out today, I wanted to give you this , I wanted you to have it for a long time and as much as I'm bad with words I'll just let you read it latter and I want you to hold on to it " he took out the helmet handing it over to her to take , it was wrapped in her favourite colour wrap , so she couldn't read what's he wrote just yet , his phone rang before she could say anything he looked at her apologetically as he stood up " I have to head out " she nods silently holding back tears as he hugged Gigi goodbye and turned to her , both holding it in for the sake of the other as they shared a tight hug , he hummed as she mumbled with her head on his shoulder " please take care of yourself, no fighting , and don't be so hard on yourself out there , just enjoy it and make some good memories, alright?" He nods tightening his arms around her " you too , try not to overwork yourself , yeah? , I'll visit once I get the chance and will call , so you better keep your phone on or I'll fly back to Knock you door down " she gave a weak chuckle" I'll hold you to that " he nods again " make sure to cheer for me " she affirmed " always" , he sway them gently before he settled with a quite " okay" and with that they finally let go .

He took the empty bag with him , heading to the front door calling out for Marc " Oi ! Mario ! " Laughing at the loud groan and the stomping feet down the hall " still not my name!!" He stood with O'Connell in his arms a frown in his face seeing Daniel by the door ready to leave " you're not staying?" The driver shook his head, reaching out to scratch the cats head grinning as it purred in content " not this time , I gotta catch a flight soon , but I need you to take care of you aunt for me , ok !" the boy nod in understanding , puffing his chest and giving Daniel a small hug as his aunt and sister stood behind him watching as Daniel opened the door to leave , stepping out he turned when marc called out to him waving along with Gigi " we will cheer for you uncle Danny!" Along with an exited shout from his sister, he chuckled as he turn back getting in the car , waving at them as he rolled down the window as the car drove away .

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Two hours later Max and Daniel sat in their seats getting ready to take off for their next race . A heavy silence overtook them but was soon cut off by Max who adjusted his headrest for the tenth time since he sat down, Groaning in annoyance before he threw it away to grab another pillow, Daniel looked at him as he threw it away asking in concern " what's wrong with you?!" Max started bouncing his leg up and down " it's quite , too quite, and it makes me anxious" Daniel shook his head " it's not the silence, Max it's cause she's not here " Max stilled " I know and it's just don't feels right " his friend sighed as he nods in agreement " I know. But it's out of our hands " Max replied in a quite voice as he turned his head away " that's what makes it harder to bear " looking out the window as they started moving up and off the ground.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The latest Rumours circulating the grid aren't just rumours anymore, as News of a sudden Mid-Season changes shook the F1 community to it's core . MERCEDES AMG F1 Team decided to replace their well known driver (Y/N L/N) with Williams former driver (George Russell) .

Sources confirmed that this occurred during the Hungarian Grand Prix right before summer break , where (L/N) contract was terminated by MERCEDES management, although this happened during the race weekend L/N went on to race her last round with the silver arrows scoring herself the third place along with her now former teammate (sir Lewis Hamilton) in second , and her long time friend/rival (Max Verstappen) in first place , ending her time as one of the arrows with an Impressive score .

F1 Fans and community widely criticized the decision once the team announcement of Russell's new position couple of days before the Belgian Grand Prix, bashing the Team's poor judgement and favouritism towards (Russell) as the team neglected to address the reasons behind the sudden irrational choice as some put it to be or even mentioning their former driver in any form of thank or gratitude for her time or achievement in the years she spent with them which fueled fans rage even more , putting the blame on the principle (Toto Wolff) as a major factor in losing such established driver as her , commenting on how (MERCEDES) gave up this year title for their rivals (RED BULL Racing)on a silver plate, as the replacement came in a critical time for both teams competing for the title with promising results from the former driver as she stood neck to neck against Verstappen with her teammate and former world champion far behind them .

Other sources commented that this move wasn't well played by MERCEDES who decided to make such bold move but it came with a hidden intent, saying [ "mercedes knew how much other teams wanted to secure her as a fixed driver for the next 5 years at least , such as red bull who wanted to sings her since 2019 , and Ferrari and now even Aston Martin with their developing team as Sebastian Vettel announced his retirement, but Toto was smart enough to oppose, promising to extend her contract up to 23 , but now that he turned his attention towards Russell as a valuable addition to their team's development he had to make sure these teams secured their drivers for the next season at least as a precaution , guaranteeing she'd stay out of competition while he develop his car in peace, even if it cost him a WDC" ] .

Others referred to it as an overdue decision but a good move in the right direction, referring to the now former driver name being involved in a series of scandals and alleged rumours circulating since 2018 regarding her dating other drivers , other rumours regarding assault and abuse towards working staff and mechanics and even misuse of position due to the favouritism she received for being the only female driver . All was dropped since no witnesses nor victims of these alleged accusations came to light . Some even speculated her leave was due to personal matters nodding at a possible pregnancy as some put it to be , but the driver is yet to address the topic in any of her social media platforms.

Either way (L/N) presence will be missed and hopefully her absence won't last long with the upcoming seasons we wish her the best in both her personal life and career as a F1 driver .

Also read on our website :

≥ Y/N L/N alleged boyfriend, who is he?

≥ F1 driver Y/N L/N and her children, you won't believe who's the father!!

≥ formula 1 princess dating diaries and her royal lover .

≥ what Christian Horner said about Max Verstappen and Y/N L/N relationship .

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

•••••••••••••••••••••••

05:54 , she ran back and forth through the house as she held her folders and bag in one hand and the other held her phone and reading glasses case , she dumped them all in the table by the front door , checking mentality to see what she forgot in her rush , repeating twice before a sleepy voice came from the corner of the living as he walked up to her holding a pair of heels " Bibi , you forgot your shoes in the hallway " , she looked at him then at the heels in his hand then at her bare feet before she rushed back in mumbling to herself " I'm losing my damn mind " , she asked in concern as she looked at his tired face with hair tangled and over his eyes " I'm so sorry Tommy ,I must've woke you up with me running around at the crack of dawn " thanking him purposefully as he held his arm for her to hold on as she puts them on , he shook his head slowly in denial " it's okay , you didn't , I was already awake when your third alarm start blaring " she rolled her eyes at his teasing tone but that didn't lessen her concern " you had nightmares ? " He shook his head " not recently , I Just couldn't sleep , that's all ".

Once she's done she stood back with a frown before she held her hand to his forehead in worry " maybe you caught something , I should stay , go back in , I'll make you some tea and ........" He cuts her rambling before she could Push him back inside, chuckling at her frowning face and turned her back to the front door " you are not doing any of that , you are going to take a deep breath , and go out there and do what you do best " she looked back questioning " find a hole and hide in it " he made a face at her answer before exclaiming " what !? , No! That's my thing , you! , are going out there and prove how great you are ! " She whines at this , trying to sidestep her way back inside but he held his ground " fine ! I'll get some sleep aaannnd,...." He paused as she looked at him expectantly with a raised eyebrow , he groaned at her " I'll eat three full meals and I'll even send you proof , there ! Happy " she gave a satisfied nod as she picked her bag putting her everything in before she held her folders up and turned to her brother asking seriously " how do I look?" He nods with two thumbs up " like you're on your way to fire someone for sleeping in work hours " she hummed in thought " not likely but I can do with that " he pushed her out as they heard a car park outside, she gave him a quick hug " make sure to sleep well and I'll be waiting for these meals young man , oh and I left you a patch of muffins they're still warm , and don't drink so much coffee, you won't sleep well , and ........." He rolled his eyes " and you'll be late " she cursed as she ran down the driveway shouting back " I love you , stay safe " he laughed as she almost trip and shouts back " love you too , sly out there " she held the car door after she tripped again, laughing at herself as she gave a final wave " I'll try ! " .

He got back in after he shut the door , taking a deep breath as he threw himself on the couch face first , covering his head with his arms as his mind wandered back to the conversation he had with his brother, and the phone call he had last week, all raging in his mind like a hurricane waiting to strike .

He turned on his side ,eyes falling on the framed pictures , from old to new , far away memories and wide smiles , all of their family and their closest friends have at least one if not more , just like his sister insisted.

He smiled at the memory of having to frame and put up every single one under her order and preference , but his smile fades slightly as his eyes fell on his favourite one . right in the middle, he could barely remember any of his memories when he was that age or where it was taken , but he still recall how happy they all were that day , his brother Eddie was standing behind them both with his arms holding them , his sister standing by his side his head leaning on her shoulder as she held him from the side with her head leaning on his , all three are caught in a laugh, their father could be seen sitting in the background smiling fondly at his children.

He couldn't get himself to look away as his eyes stung with unshed tears , he whispered to himself " we'll be alright , we have to ....... we'll be alright " , repeating on and on until he drifts away into a dreamless sleep , finally letting his mind get it's much needed rest .

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The car rolled to a stop Infront of a sky scraper, the sight alone was intimidating , the spotless building stood tall and mighty before her , she got out still looking up at her new work place, adjusted her suit jacket as she took a deep breath in , releasing it in a calm exhale, looking back down she straightened her posture, walking on with a new purpose in her steps, confidently making her way in , nodding in acknowledgement as employees and receptionists stood in greeting to her .

Her assistant stood by the elevator, greeting her kindly before giving her a full schedule of the day along with upcoming meetings and other engagements that required her presence .

They stepped out once they arrived to their destination , the hallway was empty as they made their way down to the last door to the left , inside every head of department along with their assistant managers , stood in the conference room , all waiting for her arrival, greeting in firm nods as their eyes followed her like a prey , waiting for a slip to attack.

she kept her gaze confident yet respectful as she took her place at the head of the table gesturing with both hands for everyone to take a seat .

She remained standing as she spoke in an even calm voice " for a start I'd like to thank everyone for their time in such short notice , and I hope staring from today we establish a solid understanding built on trust, and honest effort " she paused as they showed their agreement to her words , she went on in assuring tone " no drastic changes will occur for now as we go through the last quarter of the year, however each department will be undergoing an evaluation trial , starting from today up until next year's first quarter, by then we'll have more insight to make the right and much needed decisions , however in case of priorities we'll make and execute such drastic changes accordingly " she took a moment of silence incase anyone have any opposing opinion, she went on when she found non , "seeing we're all on the same page here , shall we begin?" .

••••••••••••••••••••••••••

more memes cause why not !

#weathering your storm #wys #f1 x female reader #f1 x female driver #f1 x driver!reader #22!f1 grid x reader #max verstappen x driver!reader #daniel ricciardo x driver!reader #driver!reader #f1 x female!reader #f1 grid x reader #2022! f1 grid #f1 au!#f1 au #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine

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cookie-crumblr · 1 year ago

Note

Can I ask for a succubus darling AU?

OFC!!!!! omg yus! i’m assuming for Jasper, if not anny send me another!

MINORS DNI!!!!

CW: NSFW, SUCCUBUS G/N READER (HE STILL CALLS US PRETTY, but in a GN WAY, he thinks you’re beautiful no matter what gender and equipment, so take it 😤✨🥰 /lovingly 😘)

“shiiiiit, Y/N” Jasper groans, one hand tightly gripping one of the beautiful horns that crown you.

Your cheeks are hollow as you bob your head up and down, lips wrapped around his deliciously veiny member.

You moan out around his length, eliciting a sigh from him that sounds like music to your ears.

His other hand fingers your lower half, he loves your mouth, but he really wants to feed you properly.

“Y-Y/N, lemme take care of you, pretty,”

You almost cant stop, mana starved and feral. Usually he keeps you perfectly well fed, but he had just returned from a long trip with Dev, and Issac to “take care” of your previous master.

You need his cum, no matter where. Your body feels like a drug addict’s when they are going through withdrawls.

Violent shaking, with cold sweats, fatigue and dizziness plague you.

Your body is telling you to suck harder. You NEED to suck harder.

*pop* “haaa haaa” you gasp, your face covered in a glistening sheen of sweat and drool, “P-please Jasperr, hu-hurry, I need you s’bad!”

You grab the arm of the sofa and present yourself like a bitch in heat. Your spade tipped tail wraps around his arm and pulls weakly in attempt to bring him closer.

Your little wings flap in solid frustration. You’re so close, but it feels so far.

He doesn’t make you wait.

Pushing himself into your sopping hole, you wail out in ecstasy.

He’s holding your ass up by your tail, and keeps your head down by pushing on your horn.

Your nails rip the fabric under you as squelching slaps bounce off the walls and fill the room.

“F-Fuck Ja-s-perrr hah!”

“You take me s’well, pretty,” His voice is so filled with love and adoration even while he’s using his full strength to ruthlessly fuck you.

You squeeze his dick with everything you’ve got as he pumps in and out of you.

With a few twitches he dumps his thick load into you, and your body practically glows.

Your strength returns in an instant and you slip his grasp, and flip you both over.

You’re on top now, and you feel yourself up while continuing to bounce on his dick and milk him.

He’s always a little sleepy after you sap some of his energy for the first time in a while.

His smile is dreamy and practically fucked out, but his cock remains hard.

“Please! More! Jasper, moreee!!” You whine and twirl your hips while grinding down into his lap.

“Of course, pretty~ take as much as you need fro’me~”

#cookie speaks #my oc #yandere #oc x reader #oc x you #yandere x reader #yandere x you #dead dove do not eat #yandere oc #yandere male #oc jasper #succubus reader #streamer oc #ama #my writing #yandere smut

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luzlopesarts · 6 months ago

Text

What happened when you wish on a star?

In the kingdom of Roses, everyone knows wishes do come true, thanks to their beloved King Magnifico, granting all their wishes overnight while they sleep. Everyone trusts in that, except Asha, an artistic and quick-witted young girl, for she knows in her heart that her deceased grandfather never got his wish granted. On her 18th birthday, when it was time to give her wish, Asha discovers a terrible secret, the king and queen are not what they seemed. With no one else to turn to, she makes a wish upon a star... And the star answered.

*⁠.⁠✧

This is the cover I made for my friend @annymation fanfic "The Kingdom of Wishes", which you can read both on Ao3 and right here on Tumblr!

All necessary links for readings will be attached to this post.

*⁠.⁠✧

Now let's talk about the cover itself.

At the bottom we have Asha on top of a tree, with Valentino. She's catching up to Aster, right above her. These 3 elements the tree, Asha and Valentino are illuminated by the light that comes from Aster, a yellow light and are shaded by purplish blue shadows precisely because yellow and blue/purple are complementary colors divided on the color wheel and this is a characteristic of my art I like to make colored shadows and not black ones.

Aster has a thick outline and no shadows because he is in 2d, while the rest of the universe is in 3d.

This pose was inspired by one of the promotional posters for the Wish film.

I followed the same colors as the sky and wanted to place the wish balls and star sparkles making a circle around Asha.

I tried to leave Asha and Aster more to the left because the protagonists, in film posters, should always be more to the left.

Magnificent and Amaya are appearing in the sky, in the background, precisely to represent this subtle threat, but always existing throughout Anny's story. Magnificent and Amaya may not always be present in the same place as Aster, Asha and Valentino, but they are always watching, aiming and wishing for the star.

Unlike the film, Anny makes it clear that these two are the villains of the story and to rescue this I wanted to bring triangular shapes to their faces precisely because a triangle represents a warning of danger, sharp pointy things that can kill you and do you a lot of harm — this is even the case. a form often used in classic Disney villains. I also rescued the use of the color green for the villains, well seen in all Disney films; That's why both the light that illuminates them and the shadows are green, one lighter and the other darker.

*⁠.⁠✧

Making this cover was a lot of fun, it was a great experience that taught me a lot of things!

If you think it's beautiful, I invite you to follow me because I'm preparing several other illustrations for this same fanfic and they will all be posted here, with the same explanation of what they mean and my creative process.

I'm loving being part of this project and thank you so much for reading this far!

Kisses full of light and stars!

~Emy ✨

*⁠.⁠✧

@annymation @uva124 @oh-shtars @signed-sapphire @mythartist21 @kstarsarts @spectator-zee @tumblingdownthefoxden @chillwildwave @gracebethartacc @gracebeth3604

#kingdom of wishes #wish reimagined #wish rewrite #wish 2023 #disney wish #artists on tumblr #the kingdom of wishes au #starsha #wish star #star boy #asha wish #disney asha #wish asha #art blog #fanfic #graphic fanfiction #fanfic art #fanfic authors #fanfic aus

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fr-ogii · 1 year ago

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falling for you

count vronsky

x fem!reader; poc friendly

masterlist

request: "romantic hc when he meets his now wife after Anna's death and how he fell for her 💎✨" @hilalcoven

-> the count never thought he could fall for anyone ever again after the death of his lover, anna. he didn't even know how he would be able to live. he couldn't raise annie, their kid. despite barely having any distinguishing features yet, the thought that she would turn into someone that resembled anna was too much to bear. he felt awful that his daughter had to lose both her parents in such quick succession, but he could not force himself to raise her.

-> he had sworn off love entirely, convinced it would bring nothing but misfortune to him and any future lover of his.

-> but he changed his tune when he met you.

it was a cold september night in st. petersburg. it had been a couple years since the fateful day anna lost her life. the count had returned to the city from serbia - his time fighting against the ottoman empire was up.

he had expected the pain of his loss to have reduced itself after the years both away from anna and away from the city he became acquainted with her in. unfortunately for alexei, the pain came back as soon as he saw the skyline of st petersburg emerging from the horizon.

to escape this, vronsky visited a tavern as soon as he arrived in the all-too familiar city.

the warmth of the bustling building rushed to meet him as soon as the count opened the well worn door. the stench of cheap alcohol enveloped him as soon as he stepped inside and let the door swing shut behind him. his eyes landed on the bar that was situated a bit further back into the establishment and was occupied by two men who were clearly foreigners to this area and were speaking quickly in a tongue alexei could not understand. as was the unspoken rule, alexei sat two stools over and waited for the worker behind the bar to come over.

count vronsky had become impossibly quiet in the time away from anna. he only spoke when addressed. he avoided confrontation. it was as if the death of the mother of his child had left him mute.

an uncountable amount of minutes passed before a noise brought alexei out of his stupor. he had long since received his meal - a roasted meat he already forgot the name of. the pale ale in his mug had been nursed far too many times and was nearly gone.

his head snapped up when he heard that noise again. it was the trotting of a horse and the spinning wheels of the carriage it was pulling. there was something so recognizable about it. before alexei could be sucked back into his reminiscing tendencies, he turned around as the wooden door opened.

and there you were.

he wouldn't exactly call it "love at first sight", but he was certainly intrigued. count vronsky looked around the bar and noticed a couple other men that let their eyes flicker towards you periodically. aleksey stood slowly, stretching out the aches and pains that had grown in his joints in the many minutes he had been sitting. he would not let another man reach you before he could. and so, he began to walk over to you.

#anna karenina #count vronsky #count vronsky x reader #x reader #poc friendly #fluff #anna karenina x reader #x fem!reader #count vronsky x fem!reader #first meeting #mine 📹#anna karenina count vronsky #aleksey vronsky #alexei vronsky #alexei vronsky x reader #fanfic #leo tolstoy

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eoieopda · 1 year ago

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[visual content blog recommendations]

we see fic recs all the time, but i don’t think i’ve ever seen rec lists for visual content (gif/art/gfx/etc.) creators! they’ve been dealing with a bunch of shit lately between reposts, tumblr garbage, etc., so i wanna shout-out some favorites. thank you for keeping us fed!!

disclaimer: this is not an exhaustive list!! if you have recommendations of your own, please feel free to expand on this yourself and/or drop some of your faves in the replies for others to see. self-promo is always welcome here, too ✨ p.s. some of these are recent finds for me, so pls expect to see more of them on my blog. eta: i will be adding more as i go!!

[bts]

@yooboobies — réka’s gif sets are *chef’s kiss* and the ART? omg. the talent!!! 😭 we simply have to simp.

@cordiallyfuturedwight — apart from being one of the coolest/funniest people i’ve found on army tumblr, i am a kayla stan because the niche themes for her gif sets (ex. bangtan turtlenecks series) feel like they’re made 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 me 👏🏻 even though they absolutely aren’t, lmao.

@hopeinthebox — the bts as reductress headline + incorrect bangtan series are probably my favorite pieces of content on the entire internet??? also, lizzy is absolutely gd hilarious. tags are 11/10. a blessing upon my dash.

@kimtaegis — i’m not visually artistic enough to say this in a way that makes sense, but annie’s gifs are just… stunning? like, the colors? idk about the process that goes into that, but i imagine it takes a lot of time/finesse to be this vivid.

@kithtaehyung — ryen is the renaissance man of army tumblr, fr. not only can she write (like!!!) but she’s multi-faceted and insanely creative with her graphic design. i want her to tutor me, lmao.

@raplinenthusiasts — ooohhhhh my god. the coloring of their gifs makes my brain go brrrrtttt. this bts x the office set is on my “always reblog” list; i’ll share it every time i come across it.

@heybaetae — this set in particular is on my “always reblog” list, no matter how many times i’ve done so already. also, idk how to describe this, but kelli’s gifs are just…. crispy 🤌🏻 like, so satisfying with the…. texture? filtering? contrast? i’m an idiot re: editing terms, but go peep them and you’ll know what i’m trying to say.

@kth1 — literally who could ever forget maggie’s 100 days of (member) series??? the amount of work that had to go into that? unfathomable.

@jeurias — i want to wallpaper my house and office with their gfx. i’m deadass.

@jinstronaut — emmeline has been doing her “a jin a day while he’s away” series for OVER 250 DAYS NOW. i have never been nor will i ever be able to commit to anything to this level.

[multi/skz/atz/svt/etc.]

@starryoong — do not get me started on starry’s paintings, sketches, etc. because i will never shut up. ever. j’adore 🫠 is also a five-star human being.

@irlvernon — my queue is probably 80% max gifs at any given time. god-tier, fr. a must-follow for carats, as far as i’m concerned.

@vcrnons — incredible gifs, lovely human, and also the writer of some of my favorite svt fics??? we stan.

@yelhsaart — i don’t have any words for how much i love their art so please imagine guttural screaming instead. asdfghjkl!!!

@hizuillu — ……breathtaking. legitimately stunning skz art. like…… i have heart palpitations.

@snug-gyu — THE USE OF COLORS. i’m always a simp for pantone-inspired sets; they just scratch an itch in the back of my brain, and BOY HOWDY, is my brain satisfied 😵‍💫

@yunwooz — again, i have no idea what i’m talking about when it comes to the gif-making process, but the colors!!! the COLORS!!! like, taking a mv that’s not super vivid/is fairly greyscale and bringing it to life? ya know????

@booskwan — you want incredible gifs? they’ve got em. you want stunning gfx? they’ve got em. seriously, idk what to tell you except “pause right here and go follow immediately”.

@haechannabelle — listen……. annabelle’s art style is 😗🤌🏻 (that’s a chef’s kiss). the use of color, and the technique, and and and — ! ALSO, i must mention that she took, like, 50 hours to compile a boycott-friendly k-pop playlist. their vibes are simply impeccable.

rev. 4/10/24

#bts #skz #atz #svt #gfx recs #gif recs #art recs #jade speaks

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crackers4jenn · 3 months ago

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Fic Masterlist - Supernatural (Dean/Cas)

CANON-ADJACENT

TITLE: down the road (WIP)

SUMMARY: Set immediately after the s7 finale, when Dean and Cas get sucked into Purgatory. They stick together to fight their way back out, running into some old friends along the way... and some old enemies. (Or, Brokeback Purgatory 1.0. Dean and Cas work through their issues in monsterland.)

TITLE: every inch of my life

SUMMARY: Post-season 15, in a version where Dean doesn't die and Cas is back from the Empty. Gabriel shows up with some mischief in mind, hurtling them through classic porn tropes.

TITLE: one more time (WIP)

SUMMARY: Set during the s15 divorce arc. What if Cas got captured by a djinn. What if he experienced his moment of ‘true happiness’ while caught in its dream, and it summoned the Empty. What if Dean saved Cas from the djinn, only to have a portal of black goo open up in front of them?

TITLE: lapse and fall again

SUMMARY: A post-finale fix-it fic where Dean doesn't die. Instead, he pulls Cas out of the Empty. Eventually, after the reunion, there's romance and a road trip, but not specifically in that order.

TITLE: like a tidal wave I'll make a mess

SUMMARY: 5 Times Dean and Cas Get Mistaken for a Couple (and 1 Time They Actually Are)

TITLE: and I will pull my whole heart up to the surface

SUMMARY: 15x20 fix-it fic. Heaven feels perfect, until suddenly it doesn't.

TITLE: here's a map, here's a shovel, here's my achilles heel

SUMMARY: Post-15x19. Turns out, Dean doesn't have to ask to get Cas back.

TITLE: sink

SUMMARY: "Where to?" A 9.06 coda.

TITLE: dry and blown like dust

SUMMARY: They worry first about angel doings and once-dormant plagues and monster illnesses from cursed objects around the bunker, but Sam WebMD's Cas' symptoms and diagnoses him with: the flu. Set in s9.

TITLE: Mr & Mr Winchester

SUMMARY: "No pet names, I popped the damn question, and you're the girl." (Or, Dean and Castiel: fake-married. Set in a hypothetical s9.)

TITLE: lights down low

SUMMARY: When Dean comes to, it's with a fuzzy, head-pounding disorientation. He's on his back, on the ground, that much he immediately knows, where there's an overgrown lawn cushioning what must've been one hell of a landing. (Or, my excuse to do a canon-compliant Dean/Cas rom-com.)

TITLE: the morning when it's clear

SUMMARY: Post-8.02 Purgatory fic. When it all goes to shit, and obviously it does, it feels like the world is splintering open. That's probably because it is.

✨

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

TITLE: 99 problems (and a stitch ain't one) (WIP)

SUMMARY: Dean gets a job at a craft store to woo and date ladies, but his plans backfire because his boss is the v. annoying but v. dreamy Castiel, who might be the actual temptation.

TITLE: Wedding Guy

SUMMARY: Cas slips Dean his number at a wedding, and a friendship/relationship takes off from there.

TITLE: on higher grounds

SUMMARY: (based off a tumblr post) charity collector cas who has a spot outside dean’s favourite book store in town and who always looks so cold despite the huge scarf he wears so dean takes to bringing him hot chocolate every day and cas gets this little smile every time he sees dean coming down the street

TITLE: a way not steep

SUMMARY: Dean's twenty-six and his roommate's a guy who cries during E.T.

TITLE: like only a best friend could

SUMMARY: They're both 18 now and Cas is going off to college and Dean's. Well, Dean's probably headed for a fun future of 'would you like fries with that?' and sometimes it scares him so much he thinks about running away too. Like their dads.

✨

CROSSOVER/FUSION

TITLE: Filming Jesus

FANDOMS: Community, Supernatural

SUMMARY: God is not here, Dean. (Or, Jeff and Annie meet Dean and Castiel. Set during Community s3 and SPN s5.)

TITLE: 11 characters that never were the slayer

FANDOMS: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural, The Office, Community, Glee, Parks & Rec, Gilmore Girls, etc etc.

#making this a pinned post ✨#supernatural #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #otp: profound bond #my fic

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http-finnick · 2 years ago

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𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

finnick odair x onesided love!fem!reader

summary: as you sit in the cold hospital room of finnick odair in 13, you hear him talk about his one true love, and everything clicks.

request: Hi! I’ve been in my feels lately and I was wondering if you could do an x reader where Finnick and reader are best friends and he talks about how he misses Annie in district 13, and y/n is forced to listen as a best friend should even tho she doesn’t want to? It’s up to you whether he notices that she’s uncomfortable and asks about it and she tells him, or he doesn’t notice at all. I love your work!! ✨✨

you bring your knees up on the fitting white chair that matches equally with the white-out room.

your hospital gown flowing to your calves as you listen to Finnick rant about his laughable hatred for one particular nurse in the district.

you giggle that he's already hating people when you've barely settled in 13 -even though refusing to get him juice isn't a reason to hate someone, he's pumped up on pain meds that make him slightly woozy

"I wish they had seafood here." okay maybe not sightly woozy...finnicks high out of his mind.

"Finnick we are so far from any ocean" you giggle as he playfully pouts up at the ceiling before sighing

"Annie would've gotten me seafood"

you froze at her name. you hated freezing, but you seemed to stop everything when she was mentioned. it seems like in the best moments you two have together it circles back to her. like it would've been even better if you were only her.

"I really miss her. Like, horribly. I don't think I've ever missed anyone so much before"

you sniff uncomfortably as you push back pieces of hair that fell out of your tie.

you're jealous. you can't deny that. you're a horrible friend and you're that girl. that girl who's the best friend and you should always worry about. because that girl is terribly in love with him and would either take him down with her or just take herself out.

you never wanted to be that girl. and you aren't gonna drift away from him or tell him about your feelings to make him decide. because he's already decided. and you accepted that.

but you accepting that doesn't mean moments like these are less uncomfortable, they just leave a dull pain in you that you have to swallow down.

"That whole time I was in the arena, I couldn't stop thinking about her. no matter what was happening I was wondering what she was doing, where she was, if she was safe...happy" you saw him rub his lips together as he was getting emotional,

shifting slightly as you bit a little chunk of your lip to gnaw on it, You need to be the best, best friend you could right now. always.

"you love her so much Finnick" you say, cursing yourself as you can hear the strained way you're talking from the way you feel your throat closing with tears

he sniffs and wipes tears that were still swirling in his eyes before staring back blankly at the ceiling

"yeah, I do"

you do the same motion as him and thank goodness for him being so high he didn't notice you getting emotional yourself

when you moved back to your room that night you felt so alone, so dull and stale as you realize you were just never meant to be. no matter how great a friend you were, he loved her.

sitting on your stale bed you confessed to yourself that if Finnick were to run in here and say he's in love with you, you'd kiss him immediately. and that isn't okay. you think back to the paths you had, share your feelings or drift from his life. you thought you could sit in the middle, content and happy with keeping to yourself. but that never works.

you hate yourself for ruining this friendship. so you decided you weren't gonna feel bad for yourself anymore, you were gonna let finnick live. let him love, finally.

that night, you got up from the middle and chose the path that lead you to your own. and you never walked back.

an: ahhh it feels like forever since I've written angst!!! I really like this one because there's not way around it expect realizing and moving on and that hurrrrrtts. thank you so much for requesting! ilysm <333

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair angst #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair #finnick x y/n #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick x annie #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair oneshot #thg finnick #thg rp #thg x reader #thg headcanons #thg fanfiction #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games rp #the hunger games

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aruanimess · 6 months ago

Note

Aot parents reacting to their kids coming out to them ✨

Hi, Luca!

I can't believe you're forcing me to write homophobic shit on the eve of Pride month, but here goes:

Eren: Mom, dad, I'm gay!

Carla: *grabs Grisha's hand before he can speak* Thank you for telling us, sweetie!

Grisha: What about that girlfriend of yours?

Eren: Who? Mikasa?

Grisha: Of course not Mikasa. The blonde one.

Eren: ...

Eren: Armin is not a girl, dad.

Grisha: ...

Grisha: Oh... I see.

~~~

Zeke: Mom, dad, I'm gay!

Dina: Thank--

Grisha: No one cares, Zeke. Go back to training!

~~~

Reiner: Mom, I'm gay.

Karina: *voice trembling* I'm glad you're cheerful, son.

Reiner: No, I mean I'm queer.

Karina: *teeth clenching* You're not weird, my boy.

Reiner: No, mom! I'm a homosexual!

Karina: *red in the face* We're all Homo sapiens. Didn't they teach you in school?

Reiner: *at his wits end* MEN!!

~~~

Historia: Father, I have something to tell you. I'm attracted to women. Exclusively.

Rod Reiss: I understand, sweetheart.

Historia: *breathes a sigh of relief* Thank you, father.

Rod Reiss: However, as you have no siblings left, you'll still be expected to marry a man of noble blood and continue the line.

Historia: ...

~~~

Annie: So... I like girls.

Mr Leonhart: ...

Mr Leonhart: Do you want a reward or something?

~~~

And a palate cleanser:

Armin: Captain, Commander, I have to tell you something... I'm bisexual.

Hange: WOOOOOOOOHOOOOO!! Another win for the queers! You heard that, Levi? We got another one!!! We must celebrate!!

Levi: I'll bring the damned party hats. *is already planning the heart-to-heart he'll have with Armin in private later*

#asks #eren yeager #zeke yeager #reiner braun #historia reiss #annie leonhart #armin arlert #hange zoë #levi ackerman

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signed-sapphire · 9 months ago

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The Fallen Star ✨

A Wish rewrite

(Scrapped) Act I - Prologue

We hear a woman’s voice reminiscent of the Golden Age of Disney, narrating events from a book:

Once upon a time, Stars roamed the earth. Magical beings from the sky that used their magic to help people, to assist them in fulfilling their dreams.

However, the Stars soon started to simply grant wishes, and people became lazy and dependent, demanding the stars make their wishes reality. The Stars became full of themselves and mad with power, almost destroying the kingdoms.

[Author’s Note: Take my messy sketches! Idk I’ll try to do little doodles per part IT WAS RUSHED OKAY]

One survivor, Magnus Arman, escaped his burning homeland. He saw the wreckage the Stars had caused, and vowed that he could never lose the people he loved to the Stars again.

On his journey, Magnus came across another wrecked kingdom. Another land the Stars had destroyed. Another land with no survivors… but one. Magnus heard a faint sob in the distance. Once he followed it, Magnus came across a child— Asha Arabella.

Magnus took Asha under his wing, and started working to stop the Stars. He studied their magic, bringing his young daughter with him on his adventures.

While he studied, he met a young woman named Amaya, who cared for Asha like her own. Soon enough, the two fell in love and wed.

[Amaya’s dress is a callback to the classic Golden Age princess wedding dresses]

But one day, more Stars fell from the heavens and attacked, wanting all the magic for themselves.

That day, Magnus almost lost his family.

So Magnus, determined to protect his family, used all his magical knowledge and became the Wishgranter, one who would decide what wishes were good and what could never be granted.

Note that the book doesn’t tell exactly how Magnus defeated the Stars… but anyways now he has a sick-ass white outfit like the one we see in the canon movie.

He defeated the evil Stars, and together, Magnus and Amaya founded the Kingdom of Rosas, a safe haven across off the Iberian Peninsula where people could give their wishes to Magnus and he would keep them safe from harm, from the greedy Stars. Magnus became known throughout the lands as Magnifico, the master of wishes.

And often, the wishes people gave Magnifico were good, and he granted them.

We see Magnifico granting a wish [I can’t find the picture but let’s say the dressmaker one we saw in the movie with a callback to Sleeping Beauty’s dress. And you know what, it’s blue.]

Little Asha was raised in the castle where she was doted on by her parents.

Teen Asha, just a bit younger than she is now, so around fourteen, and the page flips to Asha now, seventeen years old.

And this is where our story begins.

Next (coming soon)

So! Epilogue! I guess! Halfway done but I need to get it out bc I want to start random doodles and I need somewhat of a starting point!

Heavy heavy thanks to @annymation and their INCREDIBLE rewrite, go check it out, it’s amazing and wayyyy more of a tribute to the original Disney than mine will be. And @gracebethartacc/@gracebeth3604 (hey, I was the one who asked about whether your rewrite was written or thought dumps/ etc, but btw your rewrite IS well known, my roommate’s friends know of it and Anny’s) bc they have a popular rewrite with their amazing art doodles and thought dumps, so… I said fuck it and posted this.

I will update with more doodles! These are messy but I wanted to put SOME there… also! Check out @uva124 if you want to see some FANTASTIC wish art!

#writing by sapphire #the fallen star au #the fallen star #asha #disney wish #princess asha #asha x star #star x asha #saph doodles #human star #starsha #wish 2023 #lmao I don’t know what I’m doing #super short btw #tw: implied death #bc she can’t be a Disney Princess if one or both of her parents aren’t dead

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bohemianblasphemy · 4 months ago

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request from @jdms-kus-babygirl i hope this is okay and that you enjoy✨

the tension in the air was palpable. sitting in a dingy bar in a small corner in the city were the Boys, a bottle of whiskey is being shared between them. the group was quiet, interrupted by the occasional cough or refill of a glass. mumbling conversations and a jukebox in the corner playing 80s rock dwindled in the background as you focused on Butcher, who was swirling the brown liquid in his glass, pondering near future conflict with the thorn in his side, Homelander.

you studied his features- admiring your partner. Butcher had been your rock since you joined the Boys. your bond was unbreakable and the love you shared only grew over the time you spent together. Billy looks back you from across the booth, smiling at you. he reaches for your hand “you alright love?” he asks you, noticing your worried look. your increased anxiety of facing homelander grew stronger by the minute. you shook your head, before speaking out for the group to hear, breaking the silence. “ we need to destroy him. he can’t continue to play games with us, with the entire country… soon the world.” billy speaks up “we are going to get that son of a cunt, he’s gonna get what’s comin’ to him and more.” his eyes flicked up to meet yours “i’m not letting you get hurt… not on my watch. we will right behind you the entire time my love.” you smiled glumly at him, knowing that the only way to be rid of Homelander forever would mean sacrifice.

the plan of attack was straightforward- distracting Homelander for a long enough time for the group to take him down. you volunteered to bait him, there was no other way of doing it despite major objections by Billy. the group knew about your past with him; you both used to be friends- almost like siblings, until Vought took him away and ruined what once was an innocent boy now the ruthless, evil monstrosity of Vought. these memories ran through your mind as you were travelling to the dank alleyway where you were to meet him, to trap him.

“Look who it is, my most dearest friend Y/N.” Homelander smirks at you, mocking you for contacting him to ‘talk’. “finally crawling back to the good side of society?” your heart was pounding, a bead of sweat racing down your forehead. “John.. please you cannot continue this destructive behaviour, you will lose everything…” you pleaded, earning a scowl, his smirk had faded realising that you weren’t alone- he could sense the rest of the group hiding amongst the rubbish and decay in the surrounding area. “it’s Homelander to you Y/N. who the fuck do you think you are bringing your scum of the earth friends-“

“look around you JOHN.” you interrupted, bringing the attention back to you. “you cannot be blind about the absolute annihilation that YOU have caused to this country, hell to the world! you will be the reason that this will all go to dust and all the shit the matters will no longer exist.” homelanders mouth twitches with anger, his eyes growing dark. “you have no idea what good i have brought to humanity, I have brought the world back from the ashes, like a phoenix. you don’t know what i have sacrificed for all of this,” he gestures around him. you took a deep breath and looked right into his eyes. “ i can tell you exactly what you sacrificed. your own humanity, just for cheap thrills.” you exhaled.

Homelander suddenly lunged at you, which caused Billy, Hughie, Annie, MM, Kimiko and Frenchie to emerge from the shadows of the alley, Billy shouted your name which triggered Homelander to turn towards the on coming group to charge at them, not before stepped in front of him, creating a barrier between him and the Boys. “stop.” you stood there, Homelander’s looming figure towering over your own. Billy’s heart dropped, terrified for your safety. “you’re not gonna touch a hair on any one of them, you’re gonna have to kill me first.” your breathing was erratic, tears forming in your eyes.

Homelander’s demenour changed, his eyes suddenly showing the ghost of the boy you once knew- a glimpse of the friend that you knew once before. you choked back tears until Billy ran forward towards you, his fear and fury taking over. “get the fuck away from her, you grimey cunt.” he shouts, snapping Homelander back into his hostile, rage fueled state. in a split second, he unleashes his power onto you sending your body flying into the air, crashing into a concrete slab across the way. your body lays limp on the ground, the pain that swept its way through your body was indescribable. in your last moments of consciousness before slipping into darkness, you could hear Billy screaming your name.

a few days had passed, you had woken up and were met with the sound of machines and the bright white lights of the hospital. your eyes shift around the hospital room and you were met with Billy’s tired eyes, as he realised that you were awake and alive. “Y/N…” his eyes well up in tears, overwhelmed with emotions as he holds your hand, gently pressing kisses to your bruised knuckles, leaning forward to give you a sweet kiss on the lips. “i thought i lost you…” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. your eyes caught the doorway as multiple bodies waltzed in- the rest of the group went wide eyed and surround your bed, spreading their relief towards you. you smiled weakly at them, eternally grateful for every one of them.

“w-what happened? is homelander… gone?” you questioned and the room fell silent, all eyes on you. billy cleared his throat ��about that… we, need to talk to ya.” you sit up in your bed, giving your full attention to your partner but not before you’re interrupted by a brief knock at the door, and a soft “Y/N?” is heard. everyone’s heads turn towards the door and in the door way is Homelander in his disguise, which causes the group to jump in your defence. “ you’re alive… i thought i would’ve killed you.” his voice hinted at remorse, almost heartbroken. your heart rate started to rise, the heart monitor machine started to beep rapidly. “what the fuck do you think your doin’ waltzin’ in here?” Billy growls. “why don’t ya just fuck off and fly home like ya did on that day?” Homelander holds his hands up, his way of waving a white flag in surrender. “please, let me speak.”

“i… was wrong.” the words fell out of his mouth. “i was wrong about Vought, about all of this…” he paused for a moment. “when you hit that wall Y/N something in me switched and all that i knew had seemed to crack. all i can think of was us as kids and how it used to be. i don’t want this anymore.” he points to himself, voices cracking slightly. “i want to help.” his words created the feeling of disbelief amongst the group, hearing the words ‘I want to help’ from someone who’s goal was to destroy them was ludicrous, but something inside you believed him - his manner was very different to when you last met, his words seemed genuine and his humanity had appeared to flow through the cracks of his rough demeanour.

“help us then.” your voice broke in the room, billy’s eyes swing back around to you. “help us take down Vought. all of us can find a way to take them down. we would have an advantage… if you’re serious about this.” you were surprised that you considering this as he was the reason you were laying in that hospital bed. the murmur of astonishment. “Y/N, after what he did to you, why would we want to recruit him into the group? why should we trust him?” MM questions you. “i’m not saying that you should trust him, but if we are gonna take down Vought we need any and all help we can get.”

“i’m ready to break free from Vought. i’m done with being their mascot, i want to fight- fight with you, Y/N.” the room goes quiet once more, the group debating before Billy pipes up. “alright. we’ll do it. but one wrong fuckin’ move and he goes bye bye yeah? no fuckin’ games… i swear if he lays a fuckin’ hand on you-“ his words are interrupted by Homelander “i understand.” he nods over to butcher who stares him down, the trust in him not present as of yet. the boys eyed him down, skepticism plaguing them. you turn to billy, placing your palm against his cheek. “we can fight this, i swear we will.” he looks longingly at you, leaning into your touch.

The path ahead for the group was a dark one, with danger looming heavily over them. Although the rest of the Boys still questioned Homelander's reclaimed humanity, they were united in their determination to dismantle Vought and confront the corruption.

#billy butcher #the boys #amazon the boys #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher brainrot go brr #the boys tv #billy butcher imagine #homelander imagine #the boys x reader #the boys imagine

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whatsnewalycat · 1 year ago

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Psychomanteum / Chapter 13

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Louella (2nd POV)

Chapter 13: Lunacy Fringe

Chapter Summary: You and Dieter spend the day at the beach.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 9.2k+

Content / Warnings: alternating pov, grief, heart-to-heart, fluff, angst, smut, swearing, blood, cannabis use, cliffhanger, public sex, poverty mention, infertility mention near-death experiences, unprotected piv sex, ocean

Notes: Chapter title from “Lunacy Fringe” by The Used. Hmmmm let’s see. Idk if you know this, but I am employed now after like 16 months being a full-time student and SAHM, so I’m in a bit of an ~ adjustment ~ period and might take a bit longer to post things, but time will tell lol. This is a very soft chapter, I hope you like it. Let me know what ya think 🖤✨

[ Previous Chapter ][ Series Masterlist ][ Spotify Playlist ]

Despite your initial trepidation in doing the DIRT interview, and how disastrous it actually wound up being, Darlene reported to you and Dieter that public feedback has been generally positive. As all three of you expected, some of his fans have labeled you a gold digger, conwoman, or flavor of the week, but most find your story a sympathetic one and seem to be supportive.

The news has saturated the past five days in a warmth and brightness you’ve never encountered before in your life.

You and Dieter have been painting and writing and laughing and cooking and fucking and falling asleep tangled up in each other and waking up stuck together by sweat. Luxuriating in something neither of you could afford before: quality time.

Today is no exception, with the two of you under the white down duvet tent, all glowing from morning sun pouring in through the skylight onto his bed.

It smells like him here, of course, but it also smells like you. Your scent has seeped into the threading of his sheets, commingling with his. Like you’ve claimed your spot here with him and now it’s something different, something shared and sacred.

Meaning that it now smells like you, in the collective sense, and find any excuse to bask in it as long as you can.

The pads of Dieter’s fingers trail along the shiny scar tissue that laces your leg, your hip, your arm. All those swaths of skin once split open, he traces them with reverence, his touch delicate and studious. Content to memorize you as long as you’ll let him.

You count the gray hairs sprouting in his beard and at his temples. The wrinkles that crease his forehead and eyes. Signs of age you feel blessed to encounter.

You think about how the two of you were rejected from the afterlife, from the omnipresent belonging, the sea of love, back into these vessels.

“What was it like when you died?” you ask him, bringing your touch to that hairless heart-shaped spot at his jawline, “Like, what did you see?”

“I, umm,” he clears the sleep from his throat, then says, “I remember feeling tired. So fucking tired. This crazy heavy fatigue took over, like—like someone put the world’s heaviest weighted blanket on me, and I tried to stay awake but I just fucking couldn’t. When I woke, I was floating above my body. Saw them all trying to revive me. Then it was like… I was sucked up into this tunnel.”

“The tunnel,” you grin, “That tunnel was fucking awesome.”

He chuckles, “It really was. It was like… I’ve never felt more at peace. Fucking wild,” he shakes his head and frowns, “I saw all these scenes from my life. Growing up, living in New York, getting my first real gig, moving to LA, all that. I got to that barrier, you know,” he glances at you and you nod knowingly.

“I was right there, I touched it, and I knew that was it but I wasn’t scared. Then Annie shot the adrenaline, and I was getting sucked back, and,” his eyes flick to yours, softening to ganache, “And… I saw you.”

You blink, searching his face, shaking your head.

“I—I saw you, Louella. I didn’t know who you were. But when I met you, I recognized you. I felt this,” he turns his wrist in a circle and twists his face up in this bewildered expression, “Connection. I don’t know. Like it was supposed to happen.”

Then he looks at you, and his eyes are glassy and wide with this tender awe. Every cell in your body swells so fat and ripe with love, it’s a miracle you don’t burst like an overfilled water balloon. It hurts, how much you love him.

“You never told me that," you manage to whisper, brushing your knuckles against his cheek. He gives you a sheepish shrug, and you drag your fingertip down the bridge of his nose, “Maybe it was supposed to happen.”

Dieter plucks your hand from his face and interlaces his fingers with yours, then immediately pulls it back, pressing a slow, wet kiss into the blackwork apple tattooed on your wrist. He brings your palm to his cheek and holds it there, his eyelids fluttering, “What was it like for you?”

“Well,” you set your thumb in motion against his skin, “I closed my eyes, and it was dark, then I opened them and saw the wreck. Paramedics were putting me on a stretcher, and there was so much blood I was… red. Like someone dropped me in paint or something.”

The phantom scent of iron sends a shiver up your spine. It took a week to rid your hair of that smell. In the hospital, you scraped under your nails and picked at the hollows of your ears for days before you stopped finding dried blood.

Maybe it wasn’t days. Maybe it was hours, or minutes, you’re not sure.

You just know that, for approximately an eternity, you discovered a small mountain of little rust-red flakes and wondered whose blood it was, knowing that even if it wasn’t his, it was.

Dieter kisses your palm, pulling you back into the present. You blink a few times, take a deep breath, then continue.

“Ethan was with me, and we were pulled behind the ambulance, like there was some kind of tether between me and my body, but somewhere along the way, he disappeared. That’s when I noticed...”

You tilt your head and frown, watching your nails graze his whiskers while your mind tries to assemble a description that might make sense.

“Above me, there was this light. Something inside me knew that’s where he went, so I followed him into the tunnel. I saw my life. When I was growing up in Ohio, my dad, my mom… the time I spent, um…”

Your teeth catch your bottom lip and your eyes flick to his, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but I lived out of my car for a few years after I moved out, before I was accepted into CIA.”

“Really?” he searches your face, and when you nod, he rolls on his side, sliding his palm along the curve of your back, scooping you up to bring you closer.

“Well, technically I was still homeless when I started going there, ‘til my classmate found out and insisted I move in with him,” you smirk, “That’s how Parker became my bestest friend.”

“As always, a man after my own heart,” he murmurs and mimics the smirk on your lips. The tips of his fingers work up and down your spine in a soothing motion.

You chuckle at this, then sigh, “Then, yeah, moving to the city, meeting Ethan. I got to the barrier and saw him cross. I could see inside it like a window. My grandparents, my dad, and Ethan—they were all there, but wouldn’t let me through. My dad told me I needed to go back, that I had more to do.”

A burning sensation climbs up your throat, settling behind your eyes, where tears start to form. You swallow the thick, raw feeling and shake your head.

“I didn’t believe him. I didn’t think there was anything left for me if Ethan was gone, even though—”

When you realize what you were about to say, a sob escapes you. Dieter kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and tightens his arms around you. You curl up against him, wriggling your head into that space between his collarbone and jaw. The heat of his body and your own recycled breath warms your face.

“Promise not to judge me for this?” you ask him in a hoarse whisper.

He tucks your hair behind your ear, “I promise.”

“Sometimes—you know, when things were really bad with him—sometimes I, um,” your voice breaks. You squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears, take a shaky breath, then confess, “Sometimes I wished he would die.“

Self-loathing crackles in your chest. Each second that passes with no response only amplifies the feeling, and you can’t stop the wave of anxious thoughts from spilling out your lips, “It’s fucking horrible, I know it is, but he wasn’t the man I married anymore. He would leave for hours, sometimes days, without telling me where he was or who he was with, coming home all fucking strung out, reeking of booze and smoke and pussy, and—and if I asked, if I dared to fucking ask, he treated me like—like I was the fucking enemy or something—”

Another wet sob gurgles from deep in your chest. Dieter squeezes you tight, nuzzling against the crown of your head, thumb grazing your shoulder as he coos, “It’s ok, baby, it’s ok—”

“No, Dieter, it’s not fucking ok—I should have done something when I noticed it happening more and more, but I was so fucking angry with him for taking away my choice to have a family—”

He shifts to look down at you, asking, “What do you mean?”

Your heart jumps so high, it seems to get lodged in your throat for a moment. You shake your head and swallow it down, then take a deep, wobbly breath, exhaling a sigh, “He, um… he cheated on me. Said it was a one time thing, he was all fucked up because it was the anniversary of his brother’s death—I—I don’t know. He didn’t tell me until months later when I got really sick out of nowhere and had to go to the Emergency Room. They couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me at first, but admitted me and started me on antibiotics because the symptoms pointed to an infection.”

This big, blue boulder settles on your sternum and presses the air from your lungs. Dieter’s comforting touch starts again, swirling patterns into your shoulder, his arms cradling around you, lulling you into a sense of security, urging you onward. You relax into his warmth and clear your throat.

“When the antibiotics worked, the doctors looked into my symptoms further. They ran a bunch of tests and eventually found that I had chlamydia. I told them it was impossible, the only person I was sexually active with was my husband—and, well… yeah. Anyway. Turns out he knew he had it, got treated, but couldn’t bring himself to tell me about it,” you shake your head and let out a sad chuckle, “Just, um, stopped fucking me. Let it fester inside me until it turned into pelvic inflammatory disease, which scarred my reproductive organs enough to make me infertile.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, and his lips part like he’s going to say more, but his breath catches and they snap shut. When they open again, he says, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

You study him, “What were you going to say?”

“What?”

“Before you said you’re sorry, what were you going to say?”

“I, uhh,” he pauses, and you hear the wet squelch of his gulp, “Nothing, it’s not important.”

You pull back to meet his eyes, finding them all red and glossy. An ache of affection radiates across your chest. You cup his cheeks and search his face, “Tell me.”

“Just… that’s just a fucking terrible thing to do to someone you love,” he shakes his head, tears pooling in his eyes as he winces and looks away, “But—but my first thought was that I understand why, he umm, why—”

His face crumples. Tears blur your vision. You nod, showing you get what he’s trying to say.

He sniffles, and his eyebrows draw together as he meets your gaze, “God, that’s fucked up, right? What the fuck does that say about me?”

You take a moment to deliberate, wiping your eyes before telling him, “I think… the fact that you are able to recognize that in yourself, and know that it’s wrong, but tell me the truth anyway, is…” you lick your lips as you try to find the right words, deciding on, “Indicative of growth.“

Dieter chuckles. It’s a wet, forceful noise, like he couldn’t even help it from happening. He sniffles and presses his forehead to yours. His thumb scrapes against your damp cheek, “That is very diplomatic of you.”

You smile despite the tears, then lean in to give him a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft. They linger on yours for a few moments, and when you pull away, you murmur, “I love you, Dieter.”

“I love you, too,” he rumbles, brushing your face with the back of his hand, “So, you found that out in the hospital, and I’m assuming things got worse with him after that?”

“Yeah,” you frown and nod, “Yeah, I mean, I iced him out pretty hard. It all went down right before COVID hit New York, you know, and we were stuck at home together… he’d run our orders, then lock himself away in his office. I’d hear him snorting and pacing in there for hours. Like a caged animal. He’d come out all fucking,” you make a sniff noise and mimic a facial tic, “Twitchy and withdrawn, which was totally not like him. But, I don’t know. I couldn’t bridge that gap and move past what happened enough to help him.”

You sigh, flicking your gaze to his, “Do you remember what he was like?”

“Yeah,” Dieter swallows, glancing behind you for a moment before returning to your eyes, “He was nice. Funny. Easy-going. I—I mean, I liked him. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Well, knowing what I know about him now, I feel… I don’t know, guilty, or something.”

“Don’t,” you frown and shake your head, combing your fingers through his curls, “He was all of those things. He was so… good, you know? This thing would happen, I swear to fucking god it was like every time we went out,” you chuckle fondly, “He would strike up a conversation with a stranger and make friends with them. It was effortless. He was so magnetic. I always loved that about him. And it’s not like he was different behind closed doors or anything like that. Not at that point, anyway.”

Your smile falters. Dieter tilts your chin up and kisses you. When he pulls back, you wriggle into his chest and close your eyes.

“That’s what I mean, though, when I say he wasn’t the man I married. He became paranoid, unpredictable, erratic. There was this darkness about him that was so… hard to be around. I—I fucking hated him.”

Your stomach drops, eyes blinking open. Before you can think twice, you tell Dieter, “That’s the last thing I said to him. ‘I fucking hate you.’”

He draws a sharp breath, holds it for a moment, then says, “That’s not true, though. You talked to him last weekend, in the psychomanteum.”

Your lips part to contradict him, but you realize he’s right. That dark, heavy feeling in your chest lifts enough for you to smile. Fresh tears prick your eyes, “I did, didn’t I?”

“Fuck yeah you did,” he grins, craning his head to kiss your forehead, murmuring against your skin, “My sexy little ghostbuster.”

You bury your face in his neck and laugh. His chest vibrates with a low chuckle. A serene silence settles under the white, glowing dome. Dieter releases a content sigh and traces the pomegranate on your shoulder, “Did you ever find out why?”

“Why what?”

“Why he, umm—”

“Ah,” you nod, “Why he tried to kill us?”

“Yeah.”

“No,” you furrow your brow, “When he dragged me out of bed that night, he kept asking me who I was working for, said it had to be NYPD or feds. He told me that someone was following him and he knew I was setting him up. I don’t know.”

You take one of his hands and interlace it with yours, cuddling them to your chest, “The first time we tried the psychomanteum, I was hoping he would be how he was before—I mean, obviously because I needed to know who he really was, if it was all a lie in the beginning, if I had just missed it… but I also wanted to ask if I should lay low. The more time that went on, though, with no red flags from police, the more I knew he was just… sick.”

Dieter hums in acknowledgment.

“I’m so glad we tried again. That I got to talk to him again,” you say, smirking when you add, “Thank you for helping me with my crazy ghost FaceTime.”

He smiles, “Thank you for convincing me to try it. I’m glad I did.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he pauses and shifts a little, “James and I, in our heyday, we would write these scripts and screenplays and act them out. He did most of the writing, and I did the big parts, but I, you know, I liked… writing.”

You pull back and tilt your head at him, a grin spreading across your face at his bashful demeanor, “Really?”

He nods, a little bob wobbling his throat, “I’ve been thinking about giving that a shot. I have some ideas for scripts, but I’ve been so… reluctant, I guess, to put them to paper,” he shrugs, “When I talked to James, he told me I should try it again, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“I think he’s right,” you tell him, and press a kiss into the back of his hand.

“I just keep thinking… What if it’s terrible? What if nobody likes it?”

“Does it matter as long as you like it?”

His features shift into seriousness as he considers this. Brow furrowed and pinched in the middle. Corners of his mouth folded in a slight frown. Eyes downcast, studying your clasped hands as he flattens your palm over his heart.

The soft, rhythmic thump-thump beats steady. You watch his eyelids flutter and his facial muscles slacken into a serene expression. This feeling comes over you that’s hard to explain.

It surges from deep inside your chest and buzzes across your skin.

There’s weight to it. Nothing you can’t handle, but still, the heaviness is apparent. You simultaneously feel responsible and completely exposed. Like you’re exchanging your most prized, most fragile possessions, under the silent condition that neither of you will break the other’s.

You would be lying if you said it didn’t scare the shit out of you. You would also be lying if you said it didn’t bring you joy.

He catches you staring and smiles, “What?”

“Nothing,” you grin, “I just… I love you.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, glancing down at his lips.

He searches your face and murmurs, “I love you so much.”

“So fucking much,” you confirm.

Gravel crunches beneath your sandals as you trot down the steep path to the beach, splitting your attention between your clumsy footwork and the scenery.

Clusters of purple flowers occasionally break up the tall, dry grass. Palm trees stretch high into the brilliant, cloudless sky. Beyond the white sand beach sits the Pacific Ocean, dark and alive.

As you inhale deep and wide, letting your eyes shut as you relish the sulphuric, briny scent of the sea, your foot catches on a rock, and you stumble forward with a yelp, grabbing Dieter’s arm to keep you from falling. He only falters a little when you latch onto him, even though he’s outfitted like a pack mule, beach chairs strapped to his back, lugging a tote bag stuffed with towels and a cooler.

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” you wrap your hand around his bicep for support and shrug, “Just, y’know, being super attentive and graceful.”

His muscles twitch under your grip, “Good thing you have such a big strong man to hang onto.”

“Are you flexing?”

“Pffff, no,” he scoffs, and this big, contagious smile spreads across his face. Gravel transitions into sand at the trail’s end, and he asks, “Alright, doll, where you wanna set up camp?”

Your nose crinkles as you squint around the sparsely populated beach. There’s a section of shoreline far away from everyone else, and you point to it, “Right there! Avast ye!”

“Aye aye, captain!”

His pirate voice is surprisingly on point. It makes you laugh. He grins at your amusement as the two of you trudge towards the spot. Sand kicks up inside your sandals, gritty and hot against your feet, and you grumble, “Fuck this, I can’t with the shoes.”

You slow down to take them off, but Dieter stops you, “Wait wait wait—”

“What?”

“Think you can kick ‘em all the way there?”

You shrug, “Probably.”

He sets the cooler down, takes a step back, and props his hands on his hips, looking between you and the vacant section of beach through his sunglasses, “Let’s see it.”

Rolling your eyes, you tease, “You are such a boy.”

“Kick your shoes! Kick your shoes! Kick your—”

You wind up your right leg, then kick it forward, sending the sandal flying.

“YEAAAAAAH!”

It goes high, but not far, flopping on the ground a few strides ahead.

“Ah, beans,” you say, “I thought that was outta here.”

“See, your problem is,” Dieter drops the tote bag and shucks off the beach chairs strapped to his back.

“Oh, you have a technique? A shoe kicking technique?”

“Obviously,” he guffaws while tugging his joggers up his calves, “You gotta get your flippy all floppy on your toes, then kick it.”

“I believe the technical term is loosey-goosey.”

“You’re absolutely right, my mistake,” he walks to your side and points to his foot, “See, watch this.”

He shakes his foot around until the sandal dangles off it, then winds up and launches it forward. It goes about four times further than yours, landing right where the two of you were headed.

“BOOM! That’s a shoe kick.”

“Nice,” you give him a high five.

“Thanks,” he grins, “Now you try. Should we do this one together?”

“Ok ok,” you balance on your right foot, wriggling your ankle around until the sandal slides down as far as it can.

Dieter does the same, “Here we go, ready?”

“So fucking ready.”

“One, two, three—”

Both of you rear back, then kick, and your sandals go whizzing through the air. Yours hits the ground first and skids across the sand, coming to rest a few feet from his first sandal, while Dieter’s flies so far it’s just a speck in the distance.

“Holy shit!” you laugh, “That went so fucking far.”

“And the crowd goes wild!” Dieter bellows, embellishing the statement with cheering noises as he runs a victory lap around you.

You snort and shake your head, “Ok, now you’re gloating.”

He continues the one man celebration as he returns to his abandoned cargo, then heaves the chairs back over his shoulders. You skip up to him and snatch the tote bag off the ground, even though he insisted on carrying everything, then take your place on his arm.

Once the two of you arrive at the vacant stretch of beach, marked by two left sandals, Dieter sets everything up, unfolding the colorful canvas beach chairs on either side of the cooler while you strip down to your black string bikini. He digs in the pockets of his joggers and unloads most of their contents into the tote bag, save for a little tin of joints and a lighter, which he sets on the cooler.

Stretching out in the beach chair, you bury your toes in the hot sand and watch Dieter kick off his pants. He notices you noticing him and whistles at you, a flirty wheet-whew.

You grin, and when he reaches for the hem of his shirt, you catcall, “Take it off!”

He does so dramatically, spinning the shirt over his head like a helicopter and flossing it between his legs before tossing it at you.

“Oh my god,” you laugh when it smacks you in the face. The fabric is warm and reeks of him, which you kind of like, so you ball it up and stuff it behind your head like a pillow.

With a groan, Dieter sits down and grabs the tin off the cooler, plugging a joint between his lips. He lights it and takes a few puffs, then relaxes back into the beach chair, passing the torch to you.

You accept it and take two hits in quick succession, keeping the smoke hostage in your lungs. The rush of THC blurs your senses and elevates you to a pleasant altitude where worries slough off your brain. On the exhale, you hand it to Dieter and ask, “If you were a fish, what kind of fish do you think you’d be?”

He just starts giggling as he plucks the joint from your fingertips and takes a drag.

You catch a few contagious giggles and tell him, “I think—I think I would be a, uhh… a pufferfish.”

He furrows his brow and blows the smoke towards the ocean, then shakes his head, “A pufferfish?”

“Yeah,” you take the joint from him, inhaling skunky, thick smoke with a shrug, “Spiky. Temperamental. Solitary.”

“Kind of adorable when you’re mad,” he adds with a grin while accepting the joint from you, then puffs on it. A condensed white cloud curls out his parted lips when he hands it back to you. He looks out into the water, “I’d be a goldfish.”

You study him while taking a drag, and flick a long tube of ash off the glowing orange tip.

His nose scrunches up around his sunglasses as he glances over at you, “Trapped. Always… on display.”

You pass him the joint and nod in understanding, but say, “I don’t think you’re a goldfish. You’re like… way cooler than a goldfish.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re a pufferfish.”

“Then what am I?”

“Hmm,” he leans way back in his beach chair, tucking an arm behind his head while taking a hit off the joint, then hands it back to you, “Let me think about it.”

“Kill it,” you wave off the joint, perfectly content with how stoned you managed to get, and lay back to bask in the warm sunshine. Your eyes drift closed and you release a deep, cleansing breath while thinking about goldfish. Pea-brained, sociable, common.

Sure, he may feel like a goldfish, but that’s not him. Not really.

He’s unique, and smart, and dedicated, when he wants to be.

Dozens of different sea creatures swim behind your eyelids. You compare and contrast each one to your paramour. Octopi are smart and shapeshifters, but they’re too reclusive. Sharks too aggressive. A whole fleet of colorful, tropical fish, but none of them seem right, until one little curly-tailed guy buzzes across the ocean in your head.

Your eyes open and you smile at him, “You’re a seahorse.”

“How’s that?” he asks, voice warped by smoke. He grinds the joint into the sand, then outstretches a hand to you.

You take it, interlacing your fingers with his, forming a bridge between your armrests, “They eat a lot, they’re kind of pokey—”

“Stop, you flatter me,” he deadpans.

You throw your head back in laughter and say, “Wait, wait—let me finish! They’re also cute, and romantic, and smart, and curious,” you lean forward and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss into his skin, then declare, “You, my love, are a seahorse.”

A wide grin spreads across his face. His thumb works against your hand. He tugs on it and murmurs, “C’mere.”

You crawl out of the beach chair, into his lap, linking your arms around his neck as you pull him in for a kiss. One of his hands snakes around your waist while the other comes to rest on your bare thigh. When your lips part, you curl up against his chest and sigh, “I love you, my sweet seahorse man.”

He lets out a dopey little giggle and kisses the crown of your head, mumbling into your hair, “And I love you, my beautiful seahorse lady.”

You gasp, peering up at him, “I get to be a seahorse with you?”

“It makes sense, don’t you think?” he pulls you close and nuzzles into your hair, snuggling you like you’re his favorite stuffed animal at bedtime, “You and me, we can just… get our tails all tangled up and float around the sea together. Hang out in coral reefs and eat, uhhh… I don’t know, whatever seahorses eat. Sea-monkeys?”

“Sea-monkeys?” you guffaw, “What the fuck are those?”

“It’s a thing!” he laughs, giving your thigh a playful smack, “Didn’t you ever have sea-monkeys? They came in those, uhh, little Parmesan cheese packet lookin’ things—Oh! They’re shrimp! Brine shrimp.”

“Ohhhhh!” you cover your face as you nod, “Ok, yes. I know sea-monkeys. I bet if I was a seahorse I would eat the shit out of those.”

“Told you.”

“You’re right,” you relax back into him, unable to shake the smile from your lips, “Did you know that when a seahorse finds another seahorse they really like, they mate for life?”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” your eyes drift closed, lulled by the warmth of him surrounding you, “They love each other so much that when one of them dies, the other shortly follows. Cuz they can’t live without each other.”

“That’s weirdly romantic,” he chuckles and kisses your forehead.

“Totally us.”

He hums in agreement. The noise is saturated with a warm contentment that seeps into your bones and boils them down to broth. It sloshes around under your skin and you can’t imagine having to move ever again.

“If we stay like this I’m gonna fall asleep,” you mumble. His response is to nuzzle even closer and take a deep, sleepy breath. It’s all the permission you need to let the sandman pull you under.

When Dieter wakes, not much time has passed. The sun no longer hangs in the zenith of the sky like an angry disco ball, but stares him straight in the face.

He peaks down at you and chuckles. A puddle of drool has collected on his shoulder, dribbling from the corner of your slackened mouth. Warmth swells in his belly and aches all the way up to his chest. He strokes your sweaty, heated cheek and thinks, “I don’t deserve her.”

The thought is not so much self-deprecating as it is full of awe at his fortune.

Each morning, when he wakes and you’re still there, wrapped up in his embrace, he can’t believe it. Your one-way ticket to LA has no return trip planned. Neither of you have brought it up. The closest you’ve come is asking him, “Are you sick of me yet?” one morning over breakfast.

“Sick of you?” he scoffed and ripped off a chunk of his blueberry muffin, popping it into his mouth, “Not possible.”

You smiled at him over your coffee mug before taking a tentative sip and changing the subject, “What’re we doing today?”

He knows you have a life back in New York. A business and friends waiting for you to return, but, god… he’d do anything to keep you here forever. To share as many days with you as possible.

As has been happening often lately, he dwells on a snippet from his near-death experience. The one of him holding your hands, where you’re wearing a white dress, smiling bright and full and gorgeous, and you say, “I do.”

Given the result of his previous marriage, he considers that he might be an idiot for daydreaming about it. Especially this soon.

Didn’t he learn his lesson last time?

Apparently not.

Did he feel this way last time, though? Like someone turned up the dimmer switch on his life? With Anika, did he ever know, with certainty, that he would give up anything and everything to stay in the orbit of her affection?

No.

It’s different with you. The tendrils of your love have burrowed deep inside him, taking root in a place no one else has touched. A place he didn’t even know existed within him.

You stir a little. Dieter strokes a scarred-up strawberry on your arm, gazing down at you in time to witness your eyes blink open and meet his. A hazy smile spreads across your lips, and you reach up, brushing his patchy beard with your knuckles, “What time is it?”

The words are groggy and rough.

He shrugs, “Sometime.”

Humming, you look around, then try to sit up, but he reels you back in and squeezes his arms around you, “Mmmm no.”

“Dee,” you whine, laughter wavering your protest, “I’m so thirsty. And hot.”

“Yeah you are.”

One corner of your mouth tucks into a smirk and you snort, shaking your head at him. You kiss him, your dry, sea-chapped lips sticking to the soft inner plush of his mouth. When you draw back and stretch your hands up towards the aquamarine sky, a deep yawn expanding your rib cage, he reluctantly lets you go.

Exhaling a gust, your body goes slack and you roll off his lap into the sand, groaning, “Water,” then crawl towards the cooler. He reaches over to pop the lid open for you and grabs a seltzer. The can opens with a hiss. He brings it to his lips, taking a big swallow of the bubbly, vaguely strawberry-flavored water.

You twist the cap off a dewy plastic water bottle and tip your head back to guzzle it down, water streaming out the corners of your mouth, trickling down your chin, neck, chest, the column of your throat pumping in a thick glug-glug-glug that flickers at the base of his spine.

Sand coats your arms and legs, all those microscopic grains clinging to your slick, sweaty skin. The bottle collapses in on itself as you suck down the remaining water. You toss it aside and gasp for air, chest heaving, practically fucking moaning, “Oh my god—that was fucking amazing.”

A hot, heady rush of need gushes through him. His dick jumps. Breathing quickens.

Dieter gulps down seltzer, ogling you while you grab a fistful of ice from the cooler and hold it to your forehead, eyes fluttering shut. You press the melting ice into your cleavage, squishing your tits together, lips parting in a gasp.

Jesus fucking Christ, Louella.

He sits up and finishes off the seltzer, dropping his empty in the sand, “Need some help?”

With your head still tilted back, eyelids still sealed shut, a sly smile spreads across your face, “Oh yeah?”

By now, the heat of your skin has turned the ice to water, trailing shiny and wet down your abdomen, pooling in your belly button, darkening the very top of your black string bikini.

Dieter stifles a groan at the sight. Saliva gathers in the dark cavern of his mouth. He gulps it down.

You open your eyes and level your gaze to his, eyebrow quirking as you shrug.

He takes a handful of ice from the cooler and pats his thigh. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You crawl over to him and climb into his lap, sliding back until you’re seated firmly on his hard cock.

“Someone is excited,” you chuckle.

“Can you blame me?” he grins, brushing hair from the nape of your neck. He presses the ice into that knotted bone right beneath your skull, then slides it down your back, drawing circles over each vertebrae. Your shoulders slacken and you let out a sigh of relief.

When the cube melts, right around the middle of your spine where your string bikini is tied into a neat little bow, he gets a new one.

“That feels good,” you breathe, hips arching back, ass pressing hard against him.

The way you say this, all lusty and scraping along the edge of your vocal cords, makes his throat rumble and beckons him closer. He shifts his seated position, sitting up higher, slipping a hand around your waist to make sure you don’t wiggle away, then presses a slow kiss into your pulse.

You hum, opening your neck wider for him to taste the salty bite of your sweat.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your skin, fingertips digging into your soft belly. The ice cube melts against your tailbone, and he grabs another, smearing its decay along your collarbone, down your sternum.

When he slides it under your skimpy little bikini top and rubs it against your pebbled nipple, you rock your hips against his, letting out a soft gasp, “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”

“With who?” he murmurs, nips at your neck, then says, “Nobody’s here, love.”

“Wait, really?”

You lean forward and look around, turning back to him with a mischievous grin when you find what he said is true. Your pink bubblegum tongue peaks out to wet your lips as you search his face, “Are you sure?”

“Relax, doll,” he purrs, reeling you in, pressing his lips into your shoulder, your neck, your jaw. You reach back, fingers tangling in his hair, and pull him into a leisurely, saccharine kiss.

Like always, it makes his heart stutter. Bubbles hot and wanting up the middle of him. You roll your hips. The heated weight of you grinds hard against his cock, making him groan into your mouth.

His fingertips dance across your abdomen, tracing tedious little swirls into your skin. Your lips gape open with a whine and you roll your hips. His eyelids flutter and he shudders at the wave of pleasure that floods his body. He grabs your hips and silently urges you to continue, rocking you back and forth.

“Fuck, that’s good, baby,” he pants.

Your hand slides over his, both chilled and wet from melted ice, and you guide it between your legs, nodding when his touch wriggles under the fabric of your swimsuit, moaning when he finds your clit and rubs you, soft and steady, studying the subtle, pleasure-filled tremors that make your muscles twitch and breathing quicken.

Your eyebrows thread together and your lips get all pouty, these huffy whimpers escaping them with each stroke, and he could just fucking eat you alive right now, you’re that goddamn beautiful.

His mouth seizes yours. You respond with vigor, twisting your top half around to bury your hands in his hair and kiss him harder.

He works you faster, flicking his wrist, swallowing your moans whole.

You pull back with a gasp and throw your head back on his shoulder, “Holy fuck, yes—”

“Does that feel good, baby?”

“Sofuckinggood,” you whimper, grinding against him, “Fuck—fuck, I want you, Dee—”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you right here in the open?” he coos in your ear.

You nod.

“Let me take these off,” he withdraws his hand and you scramble to your feet, chest heaving as you glance up and down the shoreline. He tugs off his swim trunks and reclines in the canvas beach chair.

Your eyes drop to his cock, and this big, delighted smile stretches across your face. Returning to his lap, you lower yourself back while Dieter pushes the gusset of your bikini aside and guides to your target. When the tip of him breaches your entrance, you gasp.

“Holy shit, baby,” he groans as you ease him into your hot, wet squeeze, whimpering, “Fuck fuck fuck,” under your breath as he stretches you open.

When he can’t go any further, you adjust your posture, hands on his knees, leaning forward, arching your back. You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes, and start to roll your hips, pussy suctioning around him, taking him slow and deep.

He moans and nods in approval at the pleasure that gushes up his spine, “That’s it, baby, take what you need. Ride that cock how you want it, feels so fucking good, fuuuck—”

“Oh my god, Dee,” you whine, eyes fluttering shut, mouth hanging slack.

He slides his palms up your back and watches his cock, all shiny with your slick, disappear into you over and over again. Your huffy little whimpers grow louder and you grip his knees, pushing yourself back onto him harder, faster.

“There you go, love,” he groans, gripping your waist, “It’s all yours, baby, take it—”

“Fuck, Dee—”

Your voice is high-pitched and frantic. His hips arch into yours, pulling a wrecked moan from your chest. Liquid heat pulses through him, and when he thrusts again, you gasp and nod, “Fuck, keep doing that.”

He does. He fucks up into you and you curve your spine, face to the sky, tilting your pelvis just so, and the hot, plush silk of your cunt grips his cock, making this sick, wet squelching noise that only fuels him further.

“Fuck, you’re amazing, so fucking perfect,” he pants, skin tingling with desire, wanting to feel you closer, needing to feel your lips on his. His hips slow and he slides a hand to your belly, urging you, “Come here, baby.”

Dieter guides you back, threading one arm around your abdomen, the other scooping up your knees. You link your hands at the nape of his neck and he presses his forehead into yours. The first thrust makes your whole body tense and you whimper, “Holyfuckingshit—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, pulling back to meet your wide eyes, “You can do it, you can take it.”

You make this cute, pathetic kind of noise, gulping down a whine, but nod for him to continue.

He rolls his hips, slow at first, letting you acclimate, increasing his tempo when your head rolls back and your walls relax.

You’re cradled so close he can see the sweat glistening on your skin, can smell your damp musk, can hear every breathy moan, can feel every muscle in your body quiver as he pumps into you. The edges of him start to crumble, deteriorating with each thick wave of pleasure that washes over him.

“Fucking perfect, Jesus fucking Christ, pussy feels so good I fucking love it,” he babbles.

Your breathing grows frantic and sharp, head snapping up to tell him, “Don’t fucking stop I’m so close, holy shit Dee—”

“Fuck yes, cum on this dick baby, let me feel you, I fucking love it I fucking love you—”

You pull him into a needy, messy kiss, your deep, wanton moans vibrating on his tongue as you convulse around him, tremors twitching your muscles. A swell of pleasure steals his breath, surging through him hot and gooey and overwhelming, and he falls over the edge, spilling inside you.

Your lips don’t part from his for more than a moment while the two of you come down into blissful satisfaction, your bodies sweaty and trembling. Labored breaths gradually dissipate into normalcy, and the kisses linger with intimacy.

“Wow,” you giggle eventually, slack and boneless against his body as you tuck your head into his neck, “Are there awards for fucking? I think you just won in the outstanding performance category.”

The praise curls up inside him and makes him chuckle, “What an honor. I’d like to thank my beautiful costar, Louella. Couldn’t have done it without you—”

Your laughter cuts him off, then you say,“You can put your Fuck-ee next to your Oscar.”

“Fuck-ee?” he throws his head back and guffaws, “What would that trophy look like? A golden dong?”

Your body shakes with laughter, “I think that sounds perfect.”

He kisses your sweaty forehead, releasing a content sigh before murmuring “I should put my trunks back on.”

You chug two more bottles of water before returning to your chair beside Dieter.

As you stretch out in the sunlight, the outside world starts to creep back into frame. Sand heats the soles of your feet. Ocean waves roar and slosh onto the beach. A salty breeze ruffles your hair and cools your heated skin.

Dieter nods to the seemingly infinite gray-blue water, “Wanna take a dip?”

You look at the ocean. At the tide washing ashore, then pulling back, again and again. Big, rhythmic, gasping breaths. You think about the vast depth of the Pacific, about the ecosystems it contains, all its tides and currents. All the life it contains and death it brings. The sheer power and magnitude of its existence, right in front of you.

Unease twists your stomach and hums in your bones. Your chest aches.

It’s so overwhelming.

Dieter squeezes your hand, reminding you of his question, and you glance over at him, his expression hopeful and earnest. You can’t say no to that face. Besides, it’s just water.

You’re being irrational.

“Sure.”

“Yeah?” he crinkles his nose like he’s squinting at you behind his sunglasses, “We don’t have to, you know.”

“It’s fine, let’s go,” you crawl to your feet, dusting sand off your legs and ass as you start towards it, ignoring the violent thud of your pulse.

He catches up to you, interlacing his fingers with yours, and the two of you trudge through the hot sand.

“Are you sure?”

You frown, “Yeah, why?”

“You seem,” he pauses here, jaw ticking to one side, then runs a hand through his wind-blown curls, “I dunno. Like you don’t actually want to.”

You frown and shake your head, but the action isn’t convincing.

When he starts to slow, you do too, and you both come to a stop, side-by-side, right across the border of smooth, damp sand. A wave crashes against the shoreline. Its tide stretches towards you, then the cool water washes over your feet.

Dieter squeezes your hand, “Lua. Don’t lie to me.”

You turn and face him, opening your mouth to lie, then he pulls his sunglasses up into his hair so you can meet his eyes, that warm gaze knocking at the eroded, but stubborn, cement wall of your heart, begging, “Let me in. Please.”

“It’s stupid,” you drop your gaze and catch the soft inside of your cheek between your molars, then glance between him and the rolling water, “It’s just scary, you know?”

He frowns, “What is, the ocean?”

“Well, yeah,” you scoff, gesturing towards another incoming wave, “It’s fucking massive. We don’t even know what’s in there, I mean, there could be monsters—”

“Monsters?”

You shoot him a playful glare and chuckle, “We don’t know!”

“Uh huh” he grins, both of his heated, sandy palms finding your waist.

You drape your arms around his neck, tangling your fingertips into the damp curls at the base of his skull, then swallow hard and shrug, “And maybe… I don’t know, maybe I can’t, um… swim?”

His eyebrows shoot up, “Oh shit, really?”

Heat creeps up your neck. You drop your gaze and hear yourself mutter out excuses like a reflex, “Not very good, anyway. Nobody ever took me swimming, or showed me how, and I never figured it out on my own, and-and Ethan was supposed to teach me—”

“Hey, that’s fine,” he works his thumb against your skin, soothing you, “We don’t have to go far, no swimming necessary.”

You thread your brows together, “Really?”

“Obviously,” he scoffs, “What, you think I’m gonna make you? We don’t have to go into the water at all if you don’t want to—”

“No, I want to. It looks nice, just,” you chuckle at yourself, at the worried voice of anxiety piping up in the back of your brain, “I know it’s silly, but will you make sure I don’t get, like… pulled under?”

“Scout’s honor,” he pulls you into a hug, and you hug him back, resting your cheek on his bare chest. The ragged, jittery sparks in your ribcage calm to a low purr. Your muscles melt and untangle. Another wave washes ashore and rolls over your feet, then disappears.

He plants a firm smooch on your forehead, then rubs your back and murmurs, “Ready?”

“Let’s fuckin’ do this,” you say in your most masculine tough guy voice, pulling back to grin at him.

He snorts, shaking his head at you, brown eyes crinkled and twinkling with amusement, then grabs your hand and starts walking out into the tide as it rushes inland. When the ocean takes its offering back, you squeal at the sensation, how water pulls sand out from under you like a rug, coaxing you closer. Wild, salt-addled gusts whip your hair around and nip your generously exposed skin. Before you know it, you’re knee-deep in the icy water, wobbling when an incoming wave shoves you back and splashes up your thighs.

You gasp and squeeze Dieter’s hand for stability. He steps behind you, wrapping his warm, sun-kissed arms around your body, purring in your ear, “I’ve got you, doll, don’t worry.”

“Ok,” you nod, staring out into the deep, dark unknown, rooted in place by his fortitude, finally allowing yourself to marvel in the beauty of it all, “Ok.”

Dieter watches you from bed as you rub moisturizer into your cheeks, leaning towards the bathroom mirror, making all these cute, squishy expressions. Little beads of water drip off the ends of your hair, still wet from the shower, onto the floor and counter.

He’s never really been a forever kind of person. Up until about a year ago, every good thing in his life had been fleeting: flings, highs, gigs. The friendships he held onto were superficial and based in commodity. His marriage felt like a debt he owed. Companionship spoke foreign tongues. He never felt sated. Never felt like this.

This.

Fuck, he loves this.

He thought people made this shit up. Forever. It always sounded like a joke.

But it’s all he can think about. How he never wants to spend another night without you here, wearing nothing but his faded old Prince t-shirt, brushing your teeth, putting all your things away in the bathroom drawer. For-fucking-ever.

When you flip off the bathroom light and come wandering back into the bedroom, you notice him staring at you, and chuckle, “What’re you smiling about?”

Dieter didn’t even realize he was smiling, but you’re right, he is. With a shrug, he says, “You look pretty.”

“Yeah?” you smirk, and twirl around a little, “Is this doing it for ya?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

You roll your eyes, that big beautiful smile stretching across your face, and crawl into bed beside him. He wraps an arm around your shoulder as you tuck yourself into his side, ear to his heart. Probably, you hear it skip a beat when he realizes what he’s about to say.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

The seconds after are so quiet he hears your lips part. You shift around until you’re propped up on his chest, searching his face, “What’re you saying?”

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. He curls a hand around the small of your back, “I mean, you know, I want you to stay,” he swallows and meets your gaze, “Like, to live here.”

Your features lights up, and it’s sweeter than any fucking buzz he ever caught.

“Really?”

He nods.

As if something occurs to you, your lips fall into a frown, “What about my baking? And-and Parker—”

“Open something up here. You always tell me about how you want to run a legit bakery,” he smooths his thumb against your spine, “Parker can visit us whenever he wants.”

“I don’t have the capital to open a bakery—”

“I’ll help.”

Your shoulders deflate a little and a crease forms between your brows. You tap your fingertips against his chest and ask, “Would you consider moving to New York?”

He drops his gaze and shakes his head, “I have to be here. Better chance of me picking up work if I’m close by.“

“Dieter,” you pause, holding your breath like you’re not sure you want to say it, but when he meets your eyes, you stammer, “It just doesn’t seem like, I don’t know… Do you even like acting?”

The question feels like a jolt.

He jerks his head back, “Yeah. Yeah, of course I do.”

You raise your eyebrows. Unconvinced. Stomach acid sloshes around inside him and bubbles up his throat.

“It’s my purpose. Acting is the only constant in my life, the only thing that I do that means anything. It—it’s what gets me out of bed and pushes me to keep going.”

He says this, but the words taste sour. Does he even like acting anymore? Or is he just scared to try something else?

A glimpse of the answer in his heart sends it racing. He stuffs it down and tries not to look at it. It’s too fucking scary.

You study him for a moment, then scrunch your face up and stare at your fingertips as they dance across his bare skin. Deep in thought. With each second that goes by, he’s sure you’ll press harder and make him crack. It wouldn’t take much.

“I wonder how much money I could make selling my inventory,” you ponder out loud, “Probably at least $20k. That would be an ok starting—”

His mouth drops open, “Holy shit, how much do you have?”

You shrug, “Twenty pounds raw, thirty pounds cannabutter—”

“And I’ve been smoking you up?” he tuts, “Puta madre.”

You gasp and smack his chest, breaking out in a giggle when you say, “Rude.”

“I’m just kidding,” he laughs, pulling you closer, “Smoking you up is an honor.”

“Damn right it is.”

The two of you smile at each other for a moment, then what you were saying catches up to him.

“So, if you sell everything, then…”

Your eyebrow quirks and your grin spreads wider as you shrug, “Then I could probably swing a cross-country move.”

“Yeah?”

His cheeks ache from smiling, but he can’t stop.

You nod, “Yeah.”

The shrill sound of your ringtone cuts through sleep.

You roll out of Dieter’s loose grip to grab at the source, frowning first at the time, then the caller. Fucking FaceTime, seriously?

You pull Dieter’s shirt over your head and tiptoe out onto the patio, sliding the door shut behind you as you answer with a hiss, “Parker, it’s 3am, what the fu—”

“Lou, look,” he says, and you squint at the screen, recognizing the propped open door to your apartment building. The snow piles flicker blue and red. Parker pans the camera to the half-dozen NYPD squad cars clogging the street. Police officers and people wearing jackets reading NYPD FORENSIC INVESTIGATION DIVISION file in and out of the building, the outgoing individuals carrying boxes of evidence.

“I don’t understand,” you shake your head, “What’s going on, are you ok?”

“That’s from your apartment, Lou,” he tells you quietly, “They fucking raided it.”

Panic seeps into your blood, an icy cold rush that numbs your limbs and freezes your brain. You just keep shaking your head, and hear yourself tell Parker, “No—no that can’t be right.”

“Trust me, it is—”

“Excuse me,” an off-screen voice says to Parker, and the perspective shifts to the source: a bald white man with thick-rimmed glasses. He’s holding a camera, and he asks, “Do you live here?”

“No,” Parker answers.

Another wave of panic slams into you as you realize who he is: David Alterman from DIRT.

You end the call and stare at the screen, unable to move. Unable to think. Just one thought blares in your mind, deafening and persistent: RUN.

#psychomanteum #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo smut #the bubble #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic

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jackiequick · 2 years ago

Text

Once Upon A Time OC ✨

Royal Return —> Cadence Nolan 🎯

Full Name (given by the royals & Rumpelstiltskin) : Princess Mi Amore Cadenza aka Cadence Nolan

Cursed names: Skylar Lane, Annie Marley Danvers

Nicknames: Cadence, Cadie or Cady, Denza, Sunburst, Princess, The Littlest Charming, Princess Charming

Height: 5’6

Birthplace: The Enchanted Forest

Family: Her parents and one of her brothers are dead. Her big brother Prince Charming, David Nolan is alive. And so is everyone else is alive.

Seasons: 1-7

Face Claim: Melissa Benoist

Half of the Family Tree —> Her brother David, sister in law Snow, niece & nephew Emma & Neal. Her grandson Henry and sister/half mother in law Regina. (This family is a complex one ngl but theses are the main ones)

Friends: Ruby, Regina, Rumple, Hook, Jefferson and others she meets along the way. Of course, you also the The Dwarfs aka Grumpy and his family of brothers.

Romance: Ex-boyfriend, Rider. Other than that currently single and ready to mingle.

The titles she takes on: Princess, Farmer, Knight, Retriever and on occasion, Pirate.

Her most notable title is: Princess & The Pea, it’s why she can be so annoyed and stuffy sometimes. Also it’s why she tends to challenge people on deals and play on both side of an agreement. Never judge a person by their momentary appearance.

Relations: She works for Rumple and Evil Queen, search & retrieving items for them for a good price in return. Pretending to be a princess and warriors for the royal family she placed into with her older brother David.

—-

When Cadence became a princess due to the deal with Rumple, she never thought it would somewhat boring. Sit still, look pretty and pretend to be romanticized with the other royals of the kingdom, she wanted to know more than just stay in the castle walls. Which lead her to find Rumple and challenge him a deal for a high rank, he didn’t need a maiden of any sort, due to him already having Belle, but he did need someone to search the forests and retrieve items for him.

And Cadence agreed shortly after. Two days later she returned with a mirror ball from Wonderland and Rumple was more than impressed. The man was happy and knew she will be a very helpful asset. His Royal Retriever he liked to call her.

Eventually he started to work with her, giving her a special necklace and bracelet for she can always find her way back. Her dresses were more practical clothes on occasion for being on the field.

She met more than a few people on her travels and one of them being Snow White. In which a week later, Bandit Snow White met her brother Prince Charming.

—> Snow nickname her Cadie, short for Cadence. Even called her princess a few times. Little did they know they would be family soon enough..

—-

Time after during the curse came, it was pure chaos and she fought alongside her brother, making sure Emma ended up in the wardrobe safely.

Cadence held Emma in her arms and placed the necklace comfortably around her.

David gasped, “Cadie, that’s your necklace you need it. That how you get around the realms.”

“Emma needs it more than I do. Find her way home.” She repiled placing the baby in the wardrobe with a smile.

David placed a sad smile and kisses his daughter forehead whispering a few words closing the doors.

Both siblings told side by side fighting the guards, sadly they got hurt. Charming more than Cadenza…

Regina arrived with a crazy look on her face as her spell brought everyone to Storybrooke..

—-

In Storybrooke, she was cursed to be a women named Skylar Lane. One of the bakers of the town, always bringing sweet treats and flowers to the people of Storybrooke. Especially to Mr. Gold and Mayor Mills on a daily basis.

She knocked on the door, “Afternoon, Regina.”

She opened the door kindly, “Good afternoon, Skylar.”

She noticed the look on her face and asked if she was okay. Regina explained that Henry was gone, she reassured her that afternoon that he will show up soon. She was dragged to the Police Station by the Mayor to see the cops know where he is.

That’s where she met Emma Swan, trying to help them find Henry with her best friend, Mary Margaret advice. To say Regina was pissed off was a understatement, she just wanted her son and ready to lock anyone up if it meant she can get the job done quicker. Skylar had to be the voice of reason for both sides, telling Regina to stay home while Emma went looking for Henry.

Skylar went to visit a coma patient at Storybrooke Hospital under the name, John Doe, she visited the man very week talking to him, bringing flowers and sweets in hope he would wake up. She felt connected to him, like they were friends or something stronger. Little did she know that’s her big brother (Henry would tell her that tale later). She would play with her bracelet as she spoke and would always leave giving the man a gentle squeeze on his shoulder. But he never woke up..

—> Emma stayed in town, of course. She was glad, especially when the blonde moved in with Mary Margaret because that mean Skylar got to see both women on a daily basis after catching up with Ruby at the Dinner. She became friends with Emma Swan, sharing stores, drinking together and giving each other advice. Skylar always tended to help Emma on cases around town such as the Mary Margaret arrest, Ashley’s situation with Mr. Gold, The issue with John Doe, and so much more.

Stranger things kept happening in the town involving everyone who lived there. Skylar even felt it too, especially when her ex-boyfriend who mothers hated her kept showing up to try and win her back, she stupidly said yes to a date and her ex-boyfriend trying to even kidnap her. Emma saved the day of course.

----

With everything that happened, Skylar felt odd. The shift in the air felt stronger than ever, she picked up on the little things. Words, phases and movements in the town. Especially after hearing Henry Mills talk to her about being a character in his storybook…

Her curiosity was brought to light when she delivered Emma her favorite type of donut to the station, noticing the necklace. Emma shrugged saying the necklace was something she had since she was a baby, however the clasp in the back got weak.

Skylar suggested that she’ll take it to the jeweler, her jeweler being Mr. Gold, for a retighten. Emma heisted for a moment but agreed wanting it back by sundown, at least.

She agreed taking the necklace off her hands noticing the fine details. The rich vintage gold details, the engraved chested green and white diamonds shaped into swirling around one around like a flower shinning around daylight. It reminded Skylar on her very own bracelet, lost in pieces at home. She stepped into Mr. Gold’s shop with a smile.

He was waiting for her, patient for her loyal curious self to walk in. Mr. Gold has been awake from a while now and waiting for her to be. The more people awaken from the curse and not down for the count, the better.

“What can I do for you today, Ms. Lane?” He asked, noticing the necklace and bracelet in her hands with a smile.

“Ms. Swan needs the clasp in the back of her necklace tighten.” She replies simply, handing it to him to examine.

“Ah, I see. And why not take it somewhere else?”

“Because I know you can do the job better and give it a fine cleaning.”

He noticed the look in her eye, something he’s been noticing rather recently ever since her kidnapping. She tried to hide it, most of the time she could cover up the look on her face but like Charming, David Nolan, she couldn’t.

She sighed, “Miss Swan says that this necklace belong to her, saying that she assumed her parents gave it to her before she was given up..”

“And?” He asked hoping that the real women behind that curse persona would shine though and speak up.

“I have a bracelet that is oddly similar at home..what if..what if, they’re a match? Same jeweler or something. Ever since Emma came, in felt drawn to her..”

“Like love of some kind?”

“No love, like I know her. Her and Mary Margaret act the same way..can you look into it?”

“I need the whole necklace and bracelet to do so.”

She smiled, running off to her small apartment complex searching for the broken bracelet. It was always a rather shatter piece of jewelry, she brought for half price years ago. The green diamonds were missing but the white stayed the same, never fallen off. Skylar return the piece to Mr. Gold and went to continue her day at the diner, working alongside Ruby and being dragged on a case with Emma.

It was a long day, Skylar couldn’t be more tired and out of breath from everything, however she promised Emma that necklace to be returned safely and surely to the loft. Mr. Gold smiled when she walked in, he’s been working on the necklace and bracelet all day. They were freshly tighten, cleaned and the diamonds were engraved the way they should be.

“Y-you fixed them?” She said in awe, gently holding them in her grasp.

“Try them on.” He replies with a smile, standing behind the counter.

“Alright.”

She placed the bracelet swiftly on her wrist as if it shined, feeling a awing source within her and chuckled. Mr. Gold told her again, wear the bracelet and necklace. She hesitated since it doesn’t belong to her, it never has, but she did it anyway. It couldn’t hurt right? It’s just a necklace.

The second Skylar placed the necklace firming on her neck, having the diamonds facing the correct direction and such. She ran her fingers across the jewelry smiling and turned away thanking Mr. Gold about to walk out when she paused. She gasped harshly, a sharp wave of memories and emotions washed over from the moment she was recruited to be a princess to the day she put Emma in the wardrobe.

Skylar blinked tempering with the new found information and looked over her shoulder to see Mr. Gold leaning against the counter with a soft smile.

“Is something wrong, my dear Mi Amore?” He asked as his smile grew seeing the look in her eyes.

It took her a moment to speak until she said, “Nothing Rumple, I think we need to talk.”

—//—

Thank you so much for read this fic! I hope you like it. Remember to like, share and comment

-//-//-//-

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @justanoutlawfic @topgun-imagines @gcthvile @fyeahonceuponatimeocs @msrochelleromanofffelton @drspencereidhotch @t-nd-rfoot @superspookyjanelle @ohgodnotagainn @sherloquestea @mandylove1000 @blackheart-beauty @meiramel @rooster-84 @blueboirick and etc

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