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justporo · 2 months ago

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A Scorching Letter

Brimsterton | A Staevstarion Regency AU

PREVIOUS PART | MASTERLIST | AO3

A/N: Yes hello, I know I haven't posted something I wrote in quite a while. Let's just say I've been busy, but mostly behind the scenes. This however I had written quite a while ago (end of June I think) and I need to get back into the saddle again with posting. So here we are, another trip into Regency AU with @velnna's beloved Staeve (thanks as always for letting me stick him in a costume) and Astarion. Picking off where we left off after the chaise longue incident.

Summary: With a lot mixed feelings after what almost happened between them, a scorching letter is written that reveals genuine truths and brilliant emotions. But the response might not have been what either of them had hoped for...

Pairing: Astarion/Staeve Wordcount: 5,1k Warnings: light implied nsfw

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Hands hastily tore open an envelope. On it, in elegant cursive handwriting that couldn’t be mistaken for anyone but Astarion’s, a name was written, boldly and with gold ink even: Staeve Brimstone.

Shivering fingers took several pages from the torn away paper and unfolded them. Immediately, it was visible that the letter had been written with a plethora of intense emotions: some parts seemed barely readable as if the pen had scarcely made its way across the paper in hesitancy. Others were quite obviously written with such vigour, that the sheets were almost torn and stained with blots of ink from a pen that had been pressed too harshly and hastily onto the paper - way too eager to get out the words.

The hands holding onto the letter kept trembling as the letter was studied. It read:

“My dearly beloved Staeve,

It seems we’ve gotten ourselves in quite the compromising position, haven’t we?Apparently, we do have a knack for this kind of thing, don’t you agree? It is nothing new for either of us, truly. How often have we gotten in trouble for something over the years? Quite frankly it might be a big part of the reason why my parents will finally be sending me off to the continent. I figure they fear what two - now grown - young men could get themselves into. And wouldn’t they be right?

A million times have we conspired together. A million plans. A million times it was us against the world. Together.

To our own surprise we haven’t always been discovered. But then again too often than we would have hoped. And yet we have always gotten out of a cornered situation.

This time it is different though.

I take it your sister hasn’t taken notice of what has happened that night. Or it might be that she doesn’t care - I was never able to read her well. And I do not dare to push her on the matter.

What could have happened had we been discovered in that moment? Truly discovered?

But to be quite frank that isn’t what I am concerned with. Not if I am being honest with myself.

You know I am a man of few regrets, Staeve. But I do regret having left like I did that fateful night. My mind kept whispering malicious things to me while my chest was burning, set ablaze by you and your lips. My heart was prepared to scream it all from the rooftops. But yet my anxious mind had me flee like lest we be found out.

But yet my heart keeps burning, the flames impossible to smother. I promise you I’ve tried. Only to find them flickering higher, brighter, hotter, whenever I tried.

And it has been hard to calm it for even just a moment since that fateful night on that chaise longue.

In the end, it has won over my mind even quicker than I thought as I still feel my chest burn with every single beat of my yearning heart. This is what my mind has been toiling with. This and the enticing idea of what would have happened had we not been disturbed, this impossible game of “what if”.

Would we have lost ourselves within each other, unravelled by our hands and touches. Would we have been void of words with only our bodies to speak the yet unspoken? Would we have gone all the way into oblivion together torn and then reformed together. And all to only be unravelled again and again until there had been nothing left but strings?

Strings we might have been able to have knitted into something new, something thoroughly intertwined?

Only the heavens may know.”

The words at the end of this page were thin; anxiously so. The author’s worries and fears clear already by how the words seemed to trail off at the bottom. In hopes perhaps, that they could just be shaken off the page lest they fall on deaf ears.

The next fresh page though started with bold writing again, even bolder than before. The written words proud, tall and unashamed:

“But I do know this: at night I lay unable to sleep with that blistering desire inside of me, slowly scorching me from the inside out. And when the heat becomes near unbearable, I lay there with nothing but the moon as a witness, touching myself while imagining - hoping - it was you. My hands wandering down over my own body and finding pleasure so easily and quickly - so intense - as they stroke and caress. Simply because it is you in my mind. The thought of you nearly enough to lose myself time and again.

I know I am a sinner for this, for my thoughts and my actions. But could a sin truly feel this heavenly? If this is what hell feels like, I will let it take me, gladly. I would welcome doom with open arms for just my actions, but truly, I’d much rather be doomed together with you, Staeve.

The feeling of your mouth on mine has been imprinted on me. I cannot forget it. I will die with the memory of your soft lips on mine on my mind as the last breath leaves my earthly body.

You've touched me a thousand times - a hug, a tap, a taunt - but not like this. Never like this. Not with that enticing intention, not with that need: giving, pleasing but also taking - possibly all of me. And if I’m being true and honest to myself: I would give you all of myself - body, mind and soul. You may take it all!

Do you feel the same? Because even writing this letter I feel how restless my fingers are, how they itch to touch you again as well, how they need to feel you again: your lithe body, the skin of your face, your silken hair.

I just want to feel the warmth of you again, enveloping me, your body moving against mine as we fall together, endlessly.

And when your hands know me by heart, I want to feel your mouth all over my skin, tasting me before swallowing my confessions to you directly from my very own lips and tongue.

I want you to know me as deeply as no one has before. I fear no one else could ever understand me like you do anyways. And I hope, dearly, this is what you want too. I surely know it’s what I want with you: knowing you inside and out, better than myself.

Back in that moment it surely felt like that.

But memories are fleeting, fickle little things. Already I am questioning if I really saw the same yearning in your eyes I keep feeling in my very soul. But then again, it's not like this only transpired yesterday, hasn't it? Hasn’t this all been brewing for what feels like an eternity?”

Up until this paragraph the writing had been bold, the elegant cursive letters leaning so far it was easily distinguishable that they had been written without pause. Words that had been too powerful to not let out.

But those next ones were more hesitant again. The pen had been pressed down to start many a time and then hastily taken off again, judging by how several blots and scratches of ink clouded the first letter of the next sentence.

But in the end even these words had found their way - either way:

“I reckon you know the feeling in the atmosphere before a thunderstorm approaches - when the tension is so dense it makes your hairs rise up. When the whole world seems to hold its breath, awaiting the inevitable.

Aren’t we just like that? Awaiting what deep down we have known for so long?

Aren’t we inevitable?

How long have we been like this? In that terrible limbo of potential and not yet made resolution?

Only for it to unload in but a blink of an eye, lightning hitting us both, scorching us through and through, down to our furthest depths - setting us brightly ablaze where light has never even reached before.

There is no way in which we could ever proceed, pretending as if we both haven’t been changed forever in this moment, changed at our innermost core - wouldn’t you agree?

At times I fear that all it would have taken was that one night. One night of scorching flames to then see the fire smothered. This - us - nothing but a quick intermezzo, a short crescendo that is quickly muffled and not to be heard again.

But whenever I think I’ve forgotten about this, about you, for a just moment, there it is again: the thought of you, impossible to get out of my head.

You are always there with me, Staeve, with every breath and every step.

You didn’t just light a candle inside of me, you started a wildfire.

And I welcome it - with all the heat, all the power, all the destruction it might bring but also the all encompassing warmth it might spend. I welcome it to be consumed by it!”

Before the final words of the letter there was generous space left. Quite obviously the author felt the need to let his final words take up room. The final conclusion to the letter read:

“I am in love with you, Staeve Brimstone.

I am in love with you - and looking back it feels like I have always been in love with you. From the moment I first laid eyes upon you up to the my last moments on this earth.

And even more than that: I need you. I fear I cannot live without you.

And even though it might be selfish - but we both know that I am -: I hope you need me too.

I hope to love you, Staeve, forevermore. And if I’m fortunate enough, that you will love me too.

Forever yours,

Astarion”

As eyes ran over the last page, the hands holding the letter had begun to tremble. They were gripping the paper so hard by now that knuckles showed white.

Then when the end had been reached they were shaking so much no word could have been made out anymore. The grip was crinkling up the paper now. Up until the pages were deliberately being crumpled angrily, pressed into a ball of paper, letters and emotions alike forced into an indiscernible mess.

With a few steps only, the way was made to the lit fireplace and the pages were given to the flames. The fire eagerly licked at the papers, ate it up until there was nothing left of the words and the long suppressed feelings they had finally expressed.

~~~

The Brimstone family had sat down for dinner. Or at least for their approximation of it. Viscount and Viscountess Brimstone were idly enjoying their dinner talking a bit of business, politics and gossip. Meanwhile, their son Staeve was more enticed by the workings of a small golden mechanical beetle his father had brought him as a souvenir from one of his business trips than by the meagre meal of roasted pork and vegetables he’d thrown onto his plate as more of an afterthought. The sleeves of his white linen shirt were rolled up to his elbows as he had discarded his doublet long ago to be able to move better and one of his suspenders threatened to give up on its job as it was dropping off his shoulder in his hunched over position. He had wholly reengineered what dinner time meant for him, much to the grievance of his parents. But dozens of tries to change first the boy’s and then the young man’s behaviour had failed. So at some point they had given up as long as he knew to behave when guests were over and was still honouring the family gathering times.

That usually meant that he was at least present during family dinner times, physically at least. But he’d only eat later, once it had all gotten cold. And then would sneak into the kitchen to grab seconds when he would have realised once more that tinkering around didn’t sate his bodily hunger. At least not enough.

His mother had long given up on trying to teach Staeve manners. When he had been a child she had been sure he would grow out of it. But once she had realised that his quirks had only been growing with him, she’d come to realise that it was for the best to just leave him be and hope for the best.

Only occasionally did she still try to enforce his older sister Nita as a role model to him. It never worked.

So, as Staeve was fumbling with his current project and his parents were lost in conversation, his sister Nita - void of any option to make dinner time pass any faster with her parents talking and her brother with his mind elsewhere - moved around some asparagus on her gold rimmed plate and wished she could’ve found an excuse to go eat with her younger siblings in the kitchen. Even they would have been a more ample entertainment discussing their playtime or perhaps their current tutor lessons.

That was until she thought of a way of hopefully grabbing Staeve’s attention for more than a fleeting moment.

“So, Staeve, have you found something to do yet, something to cope?”

Her brother’s tuft of green hair lifted shortly from where it had been bent over the small, intricately built beetle and some similarly delicate tool with which Staeve meant to dismantle the small object - thereby probably irreparably destroying it.

But the younger Brimstone shortly looked at his sister in irritation. Then his gaze snapped back to his hands and his workings and he began tinkering again.

“What?”

Nita rolled her eyes. “You know you are supposed to use full sentences, right?”

“Whoever has the time for that?”

“Ah see, he does speak in full sentences.”

Staeve grunted at his sister’s sarcasm but didn’t reward her with another glance.

Nita tried again.

“So have you?”

“I don’t think that was a full sentence.”

She was about ready to throw her fork at him, hoping it would drive the audacity right out of him - or at least take an eye. For a moment she debated just letting the silence draw out. But honestly she hadn’t been the one starting to be petty.

“You know, Staeve, I really get why even Astarion has decided to suddenly leave town when you’re being such a prick!” Nita almost shouted. That even had caught her parents’ attention now who immediately scolded her for her unladylike demeanour and choice of words.

She pouted, annoyed at how she had been the one being called out now instead of her brother.

And when she turned her head around again to throw him an angry glare she suddenly found she had finally caught his attention. Maybe even a bit too much of it because Staeve was now staring at her, eyes wide, face void of colour.

“What do you mean Astarion is leaving?”

Nita was about to snap at him again. But something in her brother’s gaze and his sudden stillness made her abandon the thought immediately.

“Didn’t- didn’t he tell you? I thought you always knew everything about each other.”

Immediately hurt flashed through Staeve’s teal eyes, too irritated to even try to hide it.

“Leaving when? Why?” Staeve’s voice was nothing more but a croak. A strand of hair had fallen into his eyes. He didn’t even bother pushing it out of his face.

Suddenly Nita felt unsure of what to do. Unsettled by her brother’s sudden burst of emotions. The only thing she came up with was snapping at him again.

“The Grand Tour, you idiot, what else.”

Staeve’s eyes widened even more. He set the small golden beetle and his tool down with a distinct thud, so hard, it even made their parents become silent and turn to their children in irritation.

“When?” Staeve simply followed up again. His words were terribly silent all of a sudden. Nita didn’t have it in her anymore to try and purposefully try and upset her brother. She threw a glance at the big mechanical clock - one of the few Staeve hadn’t disassembled yet: “I think right about now. They’re probably going to travel all through the night to catch a ship in the morning at one of the great harbours.”

Staeve didn’t wait for Nita to finish her sentence. He jumped up, almost making his chair fall over, staring at the clock. Their parents’ heads swivelled around trying to understand the cause of the commotion. But their son was already storming out of the room, not even sparing their scolding and quizzical looks another thought.

Immediately, Staeve made his way through the manor and down to the stables. As he rushed along servants, through a plethora of rooms and finally got outside, he realised that the weather was about to turn: an early summer evening threatening to bring a foreshadowing of yet far away autumn. The oncoming storm, announcing itself with distant thunder and dramatically darkening clouds, though, only felt like a fitting backdrop for what was brewing inside of him.

Questions filled Staeve’s mind as he made his way, and worries - and memories.

Every moment for the last couple of weeks since that fateful night had he basically been thinking about what happened. It only ever took him a split second to conjure up the scene again in his head: the last couple of breaths in which he had stared into Astarion’s eyes and how it had felt like he could see through them right to the bottom of his friend’s heart, the burning feeling of Astarion’s lips against his own and this desiring ache within him, physically and emotionally, threatening to rip him apart from the inside out.

He had been so sure Astarion had felt the same. And hadn’t his friend been the one looking up at him with such pleading in his crimson eyes, lips already parted in anticipation before they had met halfway?

But maybe Staeve was remembering it all wrong. He certainly must be. Why else would his lifelong companion leave him now unannounced?

Loads of feelings were forming up inside his chest, waiting to burst - like thunder after lightning had struck in the far off distance.

Staeve made his way to the stables to grab Freckle while his mind was somewhere completely else. He didn’t even stop to put a saddle or reins on her. A terrible premonition told him he hadn’t any time to waste. And the mare was used to being ridden like this, after all they were a well-practised team.

The young Brimstone led his horse outside and immediately felt raindrops seeping through his thin linen shirt and trousers. He couldn’t have cared less. Wasting no more time he jumped onto his mare’s back and with a click of his tongue and soft nudge from his boots they were off in a dash, cutting through the oncoming rain.

As Staeve thundered down the small trodden out road from the Brimstone estate towards the Ancuníns’ residence the rain turned from just a trickle to a pour - the kind that would turn grasslands into swamps for a good while after and dust roads into murky rivers. His mind was racing at an even more outrageous speed as the gigantic manor of his friend’s family came into view.

Lifting his head while holding onto Freckle’s mane as the horse felt his owner’s urgency and gave him her all, Staeve searched for the familiar sight of that one particular window with a light on inside, hoping it would betray his sister’s words. The one where Astarion often already had been peeking out of in wait for his companion to come by. The one where they had sat countless of times, talking, laughing, smoking some stolen cigars and choking on the burning smoke when they had been only boys.

But the lights were off.

And Staeve’s fears turned into all encompassing panic as he closed in on the giant building as he didn’t dare to let himself hope anymore. The rain around him had him fully drenched by now, his loose shirt clinging wetly to his body. Already he felt hot tears adding to the uncomfortably cold rain running down his face.

When he finally came around the manor, he found nothing but an ill-fated stable hand rushing through the downpour, perhaps tasked with a few last things before being allowed to flee the bad weather. Not even hesitating Staeve rode up right next to him making the poor boy shriek and stumble back from the horse making the gravel fly with a sliding stop.

“Astarion Ancunín?” he only managed to scream against the rain.

The boy just stared up at him, obviously too startled at the sight of Staeve like this. He probably looked like a madman. And he felt like one: not properly dressed, drenched to the bone on his equally aggregated steed. Even more so the more time he spent chasing down a man in this storm who so obviously tried to get away from him without him knowing.

But he needed to see him, at least a final time. One more try.

“The Duke’s son?” Staeve shouted again at the stable hand. And finally the boy seemed to have recovered from his stupor.

“Left. With his father the Duke, in the fancy carriage,” the answer came back, shouted against another thunder in the distance - the heart of the storm was coming closer.

Staeve’s chest clenched. Freckle became nervous beneath him. Even a well trained horse like her didn’t want to be out longer than needed in this weather. But just a moment more.

“When?” he screamed.

“Dunno exactly, couple of minutes, just when the storm started.”

Staeve needn’t hear more. Time was of the essence now. He spurred on his horse once more and left the befuddled boy behind who even forgot to finally rush inside and instead stared after Staeve racing off again.

The roads were already muddy, an endless amount of puddles strewn across them while Staeve made the decision to go for the hill overlooking the Ancunín lands, the one with the weeping willow. There he’d be able to see how far out they were already on the country road leading away from town.

But when he arrived at the foot of said hill and dashed on with Freckle, his horse slipped and almost took a tumble. And since his or his horse’s broken neck surely wouldn’t make him be any faster, Staeve slid off his mare’s back and continued on foot.

The rain kept pouring onto him as he rushed up the hill, his booted feet sinking into the wet ground. Several times he almost took a tumble when his boots sank in too deep. Illustrious curses that would have made his mother blush and his father scold him, left Staeve’s lips as he ran up the grassy hill as fast as possible, barely able to see anything anymore with the rain slashing his face. He didn’t even notice how the freezing cold crept into his body, his limbs, how his fingers began to become stiff. His whole body was shaking, as much from the cold and the wet, as from the feelings still burning inside his chest - the only thing still spending a bit of warmth.

Staeve reached the top of the hill and the weeping willow atop of it - honouring its name as rain kept dripping generously off its tendrils. Trying to wipe at least some of the rain out of his face and panting heavily from running, Staeve’s eyes flew along the road leading out of town, willing the carriage to be there, so he’d know he could still catch them. Or at least a glimpse, of him. To at least wave a last goodbye. Because he didn’t know when - if - his friend would ever return.

And he spotted the carriage. Right there, at the very end of what Staeve could make out. Just before it disappeared around a final turn of the road - and out of sight.

~~~

Inside the carriage Astarion was craning his neck only a little to see Ancunín manor slowly disappear behind the lazily sloping hills of the countryside as the wagon rattled along the road leading away from town. Now the ancient weeping willow was the last familiar landmark before the road would lead them along faceless fields and forests rushing past them, only there to be forgotten again in an instance. The storm was doing its part to make Astarion’s last impression of his home even more dull: clouds and the rain almost washing all of the colours out of this final sight.

This might very well have been the only time in his life when his heart actually ached at the thought of leaving home - or rather him.

Only a few weeks ago had he hoped to spend an incredible last summer with Staeve, his childhood friend. Especially as he had been sure of something new budding between them, something that could have meant them being more than companions possibly. Something that either might have been honestly terrified to explore. They could have gone down this road together.

But it seemed that instead of choosing this final adventure and what treasures and secrets might have been ahead, Staeve had chosen utter and complete silence. To his letter as much as his departure. Astarion had been unable to figure out what to make of it.

However, wasn’t the absence of an answer a response of its own?

Questions, regrets, fear and hurt were all swirling around inside of Astarion’s chest as he feigned indifference staring out the small window the rain kept drumming on. He was covering most of his face with his hand turned away from the other passenger in hopes it would make him look bored and hide his frown - and more than anything, the tears burning dangerously in the corners of his eyes.

Writing that letter, taking a leap of faith had taken nearly all of his courage.

When that kiss had happened after that invaded soiree, it had been easy. Fueled by the evening, laughter and lots of liquid courage it had been easy to fall into Staeve’s arms. It had been easy to be open about what had been building up inside of him for so long.

But writing this letter stone cold sober had been near impossible: opening up about everything that, all his life, he had been taught to keep hidden behind his orderly closed button border, tugged away behind a starched collar closed so firmly it made one choke. Admitting to desires that would make him a wretched sinner in the eyes of his family and society. And finally confessing his feelings to his lifelong friend, risking everything they’ve had. It had been taxing, hard, painful.

And in the end, apparently, he had paid the price.

In front of him, the Duke Ancunín kept talking about their travelling plans while Astarion could feel his heart get torn into pieces the further away from home they travelled. A piece of it begging to be allowed to stay.

“Son, it is a great honour that Monsignore Constantin will take you in for a few extra weeks as his disciple. He is very strict but he is the best,” the Duke repeated his words in a sharper tone when he noticed his son not paying attention. “He will make an upright man out of you, Astarion, I know it.”

“Oh, will he? I can barely wait,” Astarion replied with bitter sarcasm in his voice. His father, in response, was near boiling with anger at his son’s insolent behaviour.

“He has his methods, son, you will see. He will let none of your nonsense slip, I will make sure of it!” The Duke’s words cracked like a whip. But the young man didn’t care, his eyes were still trained on the outside, on the weeping willow becoming smaller in the distance. He didn’t honour his father’s wrath with another response.

The carriage filled with nothing but the sound of drumming rain and thunder rolling ever closer. When the older Ancunín apparently realised his anger would get him nowhere he tried a different route of grasping his son’s attention.

“Hasn’t the young Brimstone come to say his goodbyes to you, my son? Is that why you keep brooding?”

Astarion’s gaze snapped to his father, immediately betraying that he had spoken the truth. He felt how his brows drew together as pain flared up in his chest even more. Trying to get it back under control quickly he looked back outside the window as the carriage shook along the road in worsening conditions.

But his father had cracked right open what had been bothering him and finally Astarion gave up on trying to hide. What did it matter now anyways? The cards had been dealt.

The young Ancunín let his hands fall into his lap but kept looking outside as he felt how the tears in his eyes threatened to become overbearing.

“He hasn’t actually,” Astarion admitted. “In fact, I haven’t seen him in a few weeks. Not since I’ve sent him a letter a while ago,” he continued, voice flat and emotionless.

“A letter? How uncommon for the two of you,” the Duke threw in with a tinge of irony coating his words like bile. In a knee jerk reaction Astarion’s crimson gaze burned in anger at his father’s vile words. But in the end he wasn’t wrong. The young noble resorted to throwing a last glance upon the willow up on the hill.

“Come to think of it though, my son, I do remember seeing the letter,” the Duke rambled on. “And I remember handing it over to the butler so it may get delivered quickly.” Astarion turned away a little further once more from his father as he felt his composure threatening to break fully. “A difference of opinions maybe?,” his father finished.

Astarion didn’t see the slight tilt of the corners of his father’s mouth as he let the words roll off his tongue, not hiding his distaste for the young Brimstone.

The young Ancunín only could feel the final nail being put into the coffin with his father’s final words. His last string of hope he had been holding onto snapped in two just like that.

“Possibly,” Astarion simply replied, kneading his hands in his lap, emotions threatening to overwhelm him fully.

“Maybe even more than that,” he added after a while as he finally let his gaze fall from the last sight of his hometown.

Had he averted his eyes just a moment later he would have made out the figure of a dark-skinned, green-haired young man appearing beneath the weeping willow in the storm. But like this, thunder cracked as the carriage took a turn and Astarion’s home and his lifelong friend went out of sight.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #fanfiction #staeve #astarion x staeve #bg3 #brimsterton #staevstarion #regency AU

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dbnightingale24 · 4 months ago

Text

React

A Stepcest love story about Jim

Because why not? I have a million other stories to update, so why not add another one to the list? I've been working on this story for a while, but I've been anxious to upload it. I've decided to go back to my old ways (for this story only) and not give you guys a novel. We're gonna do this bit by bit. I have more than enough to post the full story, but I know a good amount of people haven't seen it. As always, thank you to @fuckingbye for an amazing moodboard! I think the world of you, and I can't wait to hug you again, and cry entirely too much over life. ANYWHO, let's get started, shall we?

P.S. The playlist is going to be the same for this entire story. K, lets go!

Word Count: 3,514

Warnings: Swearing, Family Drama, Stepdaughter/Step Father interest, Drinking, Drinking Relapse, MINORS DNI, Emotional Cheating...I think that's it for now?

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: You're Turning Me Cruel Cause I'm Just Wanting You To React

Summary: You and and your Mother have never had the best relationship, but the both of you have always tried. However, when she invites you to stay, and you're met with the last surprise you were expecting, will any progress be made? Or will it just get worse? Catastrophically worse.

I do not give permission/consent for my stories/works to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior/relationship, this is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter 1

It wasn’t exactly exciting, going home for Summer Holiday, but the thought of getting your own place just feels too daunting . Yes, graduation is coming up soon, but with the cost of everything as it is, you’d much rather wait until you actually have to rent one. Yes, you’re Mother is the last person you want to spend any time with, but who knows? Maybe she finally got a handle on her drinking?

Yeah, that’s likely.

As you knock on her door, you shift nervously from foot to foot, and you don’t know why. It doesn’t matter that you two rarely talk, or rarely see each other, she’s still your Mother.

Whether she likes it or not.

“Hello,” a man greets with a soft smile once he opens the door.

Well, hello to you too.

“Hi, I’m looking for Y/M/N? Last I was told, she still lives here.”

“She does,” he laughs softly, standing aside to let you in, “she ran off to the store. She wanted to be back by the time you got here. She’s been anxious,” he confesses softly, closing the door.

You give him a look over as you place your bags down, and you can’t help but marvel at how handsome he is. He has beautiful ocean blue eyes, a slender physique (but you can tell there’s some muscle there), black hair that’s starting to gray a bit that you just wanna run your hands through and, lastly, a gold band on his finger.

Pause. There’s no way...oh, fuck no.

“What’s your name?” you ask with a kind smile, though your mind is racing a million miles a minute.

“Jim. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“That wouldn’t be because you’re married to my lovely Mother, is it?” you question, and he softly shakes his head.

“She wanted you to be here.”

“Oh, I bet she did,” you scoff, shaking your head. “I bet she fucking did. Do you want a drink? I want a drink.”

“She doesn’t keep booze-” “Oh yes she does, you just have to know where to look,” you smirk, making your way into the kitchen. “How long have you two been married?”

“About a year.”

“Well, God bless you,” you mutter, stomping around on the kitchen floor. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve gone all saintlike on me now,” you scowl, before finally stomping on the hollow tile. “If there’s one person I know, it’s my Mother,” you scowl with a nod, before crouching down and picking at the at the worn tile. “So, how did you two lovebirds meet?”

“Maybe it would be best if she told you,” he mumbles as you pull up the tile on the floor.

“I’m gonna level with ya, Jim. My Mother and I? Not the best relationship. So, whatever she says, I’m not gonna believe her. Hell, she’s been married a year and I’m just finding out about it. So,” you huff, standing on your feet once you’ve dug out the bottle of whiskey from the floor, and recovering the hole with the tile, “how’d you two meet?”

“At a bar,” he tells you, seemingly shocked that you actually did find a bottle. “Someone I used to see worked there. Her and I broke up and soon enough I started seeing your Mother.”

“I’m guessing things went well if you married her,” you mutter, grabbing two glasses.

Do you mean to turn her world upside down? No. However, it doesn’t change the fact that your world has been turned upside down, and you can’t help but be a little irritated by it.

Irritated by her.

“Do you have a drinking problem too?” you ask, pouring you both a drink, “don’t wanna mess up anyone’s progress or lack of,” you scoff.

You really don’t mean to be rude to the handsome man, this is just the last thing you expected.

“No, but-”

“Well, lets work on that,” you laugh humorlessly as you raise your glass to cheers him.

Once again, it’s not the handsome stranger’s fault, but you’re also caught completely off guard.

“Has she cut down on drinking?” you ask, after taking a sip.

“She really hasn’t started drinking since she told me you were coming home for Holiday.”

“That makes an awful lot of sense. I handle her about as well as she handles me. She didn’t give you a warning?”

“She just said that things will be tense for a few days, but things will smooth out.”

“ ‘Things will smooth out’. Well, that’s one way of putting it. Well, Jim..Dad,” you scoff humorlessly, “I’m sorry you’re in the middle of this,” you mumble as the front door unlocks.

“Honey, is she...oh,” your Mother sighs as he closes the door.

She’s more than likely seen the bags by the door.

“I wanted to be here when you first got here, but I realized I forgot a few things at the market and had to...ah,” she mutters, taking note of both you and Jim drinking whiskey.

How the hell else did she think this was gonna go?

“I know what it looks like, but it’s not-”

“If you’d have told me, I would’ve gotten you a wedding gift,” you laugh as you raise a glass to her.

“I didn’t want you to be mad.”

“You got married and this is the first time I’m hearing about it. What reaction did you think you were going to get?”

“I just knew you wouldn’t get it. I know we’ve been through a lot, but once you get to know him-”

“I don’t need a Father, Mum,” you shrug before finishing off your drink. “I’m not even trying to be a cunt. I’ve just gone all these years without one, and I’m a full grown adult now. I just would’ve appreciated a heads up,” you shrug before pouring yourself another glass. “I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me.”

You’re quick to grab your bags in the entry way, and finally make your way upstairs. You only make it three up three steps before an argument breaks out. You take a deep breath before continuing your way up the stairs. You know what’s coming, and you know it’s gonna last for the entirety of the Summer. God, if only you knew how much damage you’d truly done.

You would’ve never come home for the Summer.

“I don’t want to argue,” Jim sighs, clearly exasperated, “I just wish you would’ve told me! I’m coming into this looking like the bad guy.”

“Of course, make it all about you,” your Mother slurs and you roll your eyes.

They’ve been arguing since you’ve retreated to your old bedroom. You truly didn’t mean to start an argument between the two of them. Despite what your Mother believes, you do want her to be happy, but you’re just tired of her shit. At this point, it truly feels like she goes out of her way to make things complicated, and there’s no fucking reason for it. She always needs to paint someone else as the bad guy and, for as much as she may love Jim right now, she will make him the bad guy if she thinks it’ll workout better for her in the end.

“Honey-”

“I’m meeting up with Rose. Don’t wait up,” she slurs as she storms out, slamming the door shut behind her.

Somewhere deep, deep, down inside, you do feel bad. However, it’s not bad enough for you to actually apologize to her. Yes, you’re used to her bullshit, but this? This is a new level of audacity, even for her. Not to mention, you do feel bad for Jim. You know absolutely nothing about the man, so he may be complete and total scum, but you do know she won him over with a personality built on lies. However, you truly didn’t mean to drag him into you and your Mother’s years and years of drama.

Which is why you’re now picking up your empty glass and making your way downstairs, taking a deep breath as you reach the last step.

Can’t hurt to get to know the man that’s apparently your new stepfather.

“I’m sorry about that,” you greet as you make your way into the kitchen, taking a seat at the small table.

“It’s not your fault she kept things from me.”

“While that is true, I didn’t have to burst your bubble like that. You two had a life, and I just came in and made a mess of it. When it comes to my Mother, no one ever seems to make me as angry as she does.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that angry before,” he laughs halfheartedly.

There’s an awkward silence, so you take the moment to pour the both of you a drink.

“She told me that you’re in your last year of Uni?”

“Yeah, so it’s about time for me to find my own place. The price of everything is just so damn high right now,” you sigh, finally looking over at him.

No, you’re not exactly a fan of your Mother going out and getting married without a word to you, but you have to commend her on her taste in men.

The man is gorgeous.

“You’re not wrong, I don’t know how your Mum was able to afford this place before I moved in.”

“Her parents. My grandparents kind of always took care of us, because shes always been a wild child and they never really trusted her to be able to make a stable living. When they died, they left her everything. Including this house,” you mumble, swirling the dark brown liquid around in your glass. “Lets table the talk about the crazy lady for a bit though,” you smirk and he chuckles, “tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Is this your first go at marriage? What do you do for a living? Any kids? Fill me in on all the basic information I should know,” you shrug, cocking an eyebrow.

“I’ve got two kids, this is my second time being married, and I’m a writer.”

“Your second time getting married, and you chose my Mum? I’d really love to know how she won you over.”

“She loves does love you, Y/N.”

“In her own way, yes she does. However, you’ll come to find this Summer that, that love will drive you mad. You’ll find out just how strong your love is for her.”

“Well, what’s so wrong with you?”

“God, if I knew, I would tell you,” you laugh before taking another sip of your drink. “I think I just remind her of failure, which is fine by me, honestly. I learned to accept it early on, and we’ve both been better for it. I call her on Christmas and her birthday, and that’s enough. She calls when she remembers or when she’s drunk and sad, but I barely heard from her this past year and I assume that’s because of you. Thanks for that.”

“I’m sorry-”

“No, I genuinely mean that. You’ve made her happy and I appreciate that. I’ll try not to stay long-”

“She does want you here,” he interjects sincerely before taking a sip of his drink.

“Not as much as you’d think she would. You are her do-over, and I could easily ruin that for her. My best friend lives close by and I wasn’t gonna ask to stay with her, cause she has a daughter so space is limited, but I will. I know she’ll be more than happy to have me, and I miss her like crazy anyway.”

“I feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

You stand up and grab your glass and slowly make your way to the counter, “well, you shouldn’t because you’ve done nothin’ wrong. You can’t break or cause more damage to something you had no knowledge of. Have you eaten today?”

“Y/N-”

“It’s alright, Jim. You’re not breaking up some happy Mother/Daughter relationship,” you laugh softly. “Now, have you eaten?”

“I had a light lunch, your Mother said she wanted us all to have dinner together.”

“She has these ideas, and then she gets drunk. Lets see what we have,” you mutter, opening the fridge and bending over to see what your Mother picked up from the store.

You and Jim spend the next hour or getting to know each other as you bake some salmon, make some mashed potatoes, and steam a bit of broccoli. You make sure to make enough for your Mother, because you know by the time she gets back, she’ll be shitfaced and will need something in her stomach as soon as she wakes up tomorrow.

“You and your Mother have two very different cooking styles,” Jim notices as he leans against the counter, his third glass of whiskey in his hand.

“My grandmother taught me how to cook,” you smile at the memory while taking the salmon out of the oven, opening the foil just a bit to check on it. “My Mother learned how to cook from me and then put her own twist on it.”

“What did your Mother teach you how to do?”

“Umm, I’m really good on skates because of her. That would be our thing on the weekend. She taught me that getting hurt is okay and apart of life, and that I shouldn’t ever fear pain from anything or anyone. That she was right about.”

“She truly was excited about you coming, Y/N.” “I don’t doubt it, but she and I...we’ve always had a difficult relationship. She never wanted to be a parent, and she got to play “big sis” until my grandparents died. I was 12 and she never grew into the roll of being a parent. I used to hate her for it, but I learned to accept it. She kept a roof over my head, food on the table, and attempted to show up to school events. She wants a friend, not a daughter. There’s a reason she never told me about you, can you pass me two plates?” you ask, turning the oven and the stove off. “You seem like a nice guy though, and that’s what she needs. She’s never had a good guy before.”

“What about your Dad?”

“I’ve seen him twice, and both times, he was a complete and total cock. Pardon my language,” you smirk as he laughs. “No, my Mum wasn’t all that great, but at least she stuck around and tried. He only came around for money, both times my grandparents told him no and Mum threatened to break his knee with that fire poker in the other room.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, he wasn’t a good man,” you shrug, starting to plate the food.

“I feel like I should’ve helped.”

“You kept me company, and that’s just as good as helping,” you smile up at him.

“I should at least set up the table,” he offers, clearing his throat as he stands up right, taking the silverware out of the drawers.

“If you insist.”

“Can’t have you thinking too little of me so soon,” he teases and you scoff.

“You get a pass for today, it’s been a rough one for you.”

You don’t notice the way his eyes travel over your body, and even if you had, you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. He’d had a few drinks and his day went from good to a headache. He wasn’t the first guy to look you over and he wouldn’t be the last.

While he poured more drinks, you grabbed two water bottles out of the fridge, before finally taking a seat across from him at the table. Once again, the conversation flowed effortlessly and, the more you both drank, the harder it got to remember that this man was married to your Mother.

He’s your stepfather.

When dinner is done, he insists on doing the dishes.

“It’s no big deal-”

“I derailed your day a bit, it’s the least I can do,” he laughs softly as he starts washing off the plates.

“Alright, you have a job, you’re a good Father, you’re good looking...why didn’t your first marriage work out?” you question, leaning against the counter.

You don’t miss the heavy sigh or the way his movements faltered a bit before answering.

“I cheated on my wife with a family friend. She never found out that it was a friend, but it wasn’t hard for her to figure out that I’d been up to something I shouldn’t have been.”

“Ah, so you are capable of making a mistake.”

“You’re not mad at me?” he laughs softly.

“It’s not like you cheated on my Mum, besides, it’s not like her record is perfect.”

“No stern talking to?” he smirks towards you.

“I’m just getting to know you,” you laugh. “She clearly saw something in you and didn’t feel the need to consult me on it. If she trusts you, I’m gonna have to trust that she knows what she’s doing.”

“You are somethin’ else.”

“I get that a lot.”

For just a moment, as both gaze at each other, you forget that there’s a line you shouldn’t be crossing with this man. It was literally just discussed that he’s married to your Mother. That doesn’t seem to matter right now , though. Not when he’s fun, handsome, and looking at you like he wants to get to know every little thing about you.

Well, that is until your Mother comes stumbling through the front door.

“Fuck!” she exclaims, crashing into the wall.

“I’ll handle it,” you mutter, quickly pushing yourself up from the counter.

You need to get away from him anyway.

“I hope you’re happy,” she slurs as you collect her. “He hates me and it’s your fault. Men always hate me because of you!”

“So happy to be staying here,” you mutter, kicking the door close as you help her stand upright.

“You ran your Father off, my other boyfriends-”

“Did ya eat tonight?”

“As if you give a fuck,” she scowls barely bothering to help you get her up the steps. “Jim is good man-”

“He’s done nothing but sing your praises all bloody night, he’s not goin’ anywhere. Now, stop being difficult and walk with me.”

“I can do it m’damn self!”

“As tempted as I am to let that happen, you’d break ya neck and I’d feel bad. Now, lets go.”

“Bitch.”

“I know,” you sigh.

Lacking both style and grace, you get her up the stairs and unceremoniously into the bed, helping her to get her shoes off as well as her shirt. By the time you pull the covers up over her, she’s snoring. You’re quick to get to the bathroom and fill up one of the disposable cups in there and grab two aspirin, before quickly and quietly making your way back into the bedroom and putting them down on her nightstand. Giving your small kiss on her temple, you quietly make your way out of the room and let out a deep breath.

There’s no way you can stay here for the entire Summer.

With a look of pure pity written across his face, Jim asks, “are you okay?” once you’re back in the kitchen.

“Nothing I haven’t handled before,” you respond with a defeated smile. “I’ll be out of here by the time both of you are up.”

“Y/N-”

“She’ll be like this for the entire Summer if I stay, which will make the both of us miserable in return.”

“I can talk to her.”

“You’re sweet. I can see why she worked her magic on you.”

“Please-” “Thank you for doing the dishes and putting the food away. Don’t stay up too late,” you smile at him before getting on your tiptoes and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “Good night, Jim. It was nice meeting you.”

You grab your phone off the table and make your way upstairs, laughing softly and shaking your head at your Mother’s snores which have grown much louder in the short amount of time it took you to get back upstairs.

Plopping down on your bed with a heavy sigh, you unlock your phone and text the one person you can always count on.

Y/N: I’m sorry it’s so damn late, but would you be okay with me stayin’ with you for the Summer?

Cherry Bomb: Just put your goddaughter down. You know you’re always welcome here! Y/M/N being a cunt?

Y/N: I’ll tell you all about it in the mornin’. Love you and thank you.

Cherry Bomb: I should’ve been ya first stop ;)

You laugh softly, placing your phone down on your nightstand and turning over to your side, doing your best to ignore the events of the day. You’re half asleep when you hear Jim make his up the stairs and join your Mother in the bedroom.

‘Soon enough, all of this will be a distant memory,’ you think to yourself as you drift off to sleep.

If only that were true.

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diangelofan · 3 months ago

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An Unexpected Friendship

I guess most people in this fandom wouldn't probably celebrate Percy Weasley's birthday, but I really like him (despite being such a stick in the mud sometimes). So (belatedly) here's some Percy and Oliver friendship!

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September 1st, 1987

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit with us on the train ride to Hogwarts?” “Yeah, Perce, it’ll be fun! We’ll introduce you to our mates!”, Bill and Charlie Weasley stared back at their younger brother expectantly.

“I am sure. I wanted to get up to speed with my reading”, Percy raised his arms to show his heavy volume of Hogwarts: A History, “I would like to have finished it by the time we arrive at the castle.”

Maybe he should have gone with his brothers’ proposition. They, being the popular and “cool” older brothers they were, would probably never ask him to sit with them again. His two younger brothers, twins Fred and George, always made fun of him for being “such a huge bore” (thank Merlin, there were still two years before they came to Hogwarts as well; Percy shuddered just thinking about all the trouble those two would get into).

But he hadn’t lie when he said he wanted to finished his book. He had stopped at the chapter dedicated to the Ghosts of Hogwarts and it was quite fascinating…

“Okay, Perce. Enjoy the ride!” “Yeah, who knows, maybe you’ll make some friends of your own!” And with those words, Percy’s older brothers closed the door of his compartment closed, waving as they went. Percy waited till he could no longer hear their loud footsteps and voices before submerging himself in his reading.

Friends, sure, I’ll make some, Percy thought bitterly. He had never been able to form a friendship with the twins, who were the closest to his age (Molly homeschooled all her kids, so he had never spent much time with children his age), and, instead they always found something to mock him about. But, sure, maybe he would make friends.

The pass of time became irrelevant, as Percy sat and read for what could have been many minutes or hours. He had long since finished the Ghost Chapter and was nearing the end of a chapter titled The Chamber of Secrets (probably all just some legend, but interesting nevertheless), when he heard a knock on the door, followed by a small head peeking into his compartment.

“I am sorry, but all the other compartments I’ve been to were full. Could I sit here?” The other boy was also wearing plain black robes, like Percy, meaning he was another first year. Percy would have preferred to stay alone for the ride, but it seemed too mean to just deny the other first-year boy’s request when his compartment had more than enough space for the two of them.

“Okay. However, I am reading, so if you could please remain silent, it would be highly appreciated.” There you go with the “pompous” vocabulary, thought Percy, now the boy is going to look at you weirdly. It had happened before during dinner time. Percy would make a comment on the topic of conversation and he would only received confused glances back. A consequence of reading too many classic novels, textbooks and dictionaries, probably… oh well…

To the red haired boy’s surprise, the other boy just nodded and smiled, taking a book from his satchel: “That’s fine. It gives me the chance to reread my favourite book Quidditch Through the Ages for the second time today.”

And thus, the two boys spent most of the train ride in this manner, sitting quietly beside each other while reading their respective books. It was quite enjoyable, in Percy’s opinion.

It must have been a couple hours later when Percy’s reading was interrupting again (he was just one chapter short of finishing) by a tiny cough and a nervous voice stating: “I finished my book… It was quite interesting! Even though, I’ve read it almost like a million times before, I always get so surprised when reading about the origins Quidditch and how it all started! It’s truly fascinating…! I love-! …Sorry, I realize I am rambling like a fool… I just wanted to introduce myself: I am Oliver Wood and I am first year, which I think you are as well… right?”

Oliver’s face had quickly passed through different emotions during his small speech: from nervousness, to excitement, to joy, to embarrassment, and then back to being nervous. While Percy’s first idea had been to quickly answer with his name and continue reading quietly, something in the other’s boys words had really resonated with him. That excitement which what he read had incited in him, as well as the embarrassment when realizing he was rambling about a very niche and bookish topic, was something that Percy had experienced a couple of times before. He knew how it felt to have his “boring” interests dismissed (even if that had not being the person’s intention at all) and he refused to do it to somebody else if he could help it. Afterall, he could read the remaining chapter before going to bed that night.

Thus, he closed his book and smiled, answering the other boy’s question: “Nice to meet you, Oliver. My name is Percy Weasley and, yes, I am also a first year.”

“Oh, great! Finally someone I can commiserate with! I am sooooo nervous about Hogwarts… though it’s also all really exciting!”, exclaimed Oliver.

And that’s how the two boys spent the rest of their ride to their new school. They talked about their families (Percy going into a rant about the troubles the twins could get into with their little pranks, while Oliver told him how his parents had spent weeks telling him stories about their time at Hogwarts in anticipation for the event), what house they would be in (both mentioned that it was very probable it would be Gryffindor as that was where most of their family members had ended up in), and the things that most excited them about Hogwarts (for Percy, it was learning about magic in all those new different ways, while for Oliver, as the huge Quidditch enthusiast he seemed to be, it was watching and, starting in his second year hopefully, playing at the Interhouse Quidditch Cup).

Percy didn’t know Oliver’s opinion, but when both boys got together into one of the little boats that would transport them to the castle, the red-haired boy thought to himself: Well, this seems like the start of an unexpected friendship. Maybe his brothers had been right, after all, and he had nothing to worry about in the friends department. Yeah, just maybe…

#percy weasley #percy/oliver #oliver wood #perciver #perciver fanfiction #my fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #fanfiction #one shot #percy weasley deserves more love

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notsostarvingartist · 2 months ago

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Another DRDT theory about Rose because I love her but I’m worried that she’s too wholesome to be true. (DW this one is a bit shorter, also sorry that I’ve been gone for a year)

This one has to do with the motives so far. To this point, the motives for each chapter have completely aligned with the motives for Trigger Happy Havoc; first chapter: Something happened to your loved ones/people you care about. [The motive didn’t play into Xander’s murder at all, but it’s worth noting that MonoTV outright stated this was what their motive was going to be] The second chapter: secrets & blackmail. Now I think it’s very interesting, and intentional, that the motives are perfectly aligning with the THH motives (so far). And so, my first assumption is that Chapter 3 of Despair Time will mimic the first game as well. But then I remembered that the motive for Chapter 3 was $10 million dollars or something like that… and as a Rose Lacroix fan this IMMEDIATELY worried me. Because Rose is the only character, (possiblyyy other than Teruko) that we currently know of who would have a strong motivation to kill for money, especially millions of dollars. I say Teruko MIGHT only because she said she wouldn’t mind living in their facility due to money. She said that it’s hard living on her own and trying to make ends meet. Its established that Teruko does have SOME money struggles, but knowing her personality I don’t see her killing everyone for money.

Rose however, has been established to DESPERATELY need money. She put her family in millions of dollars of debt, and she feels guilty about it. Furthermore, she’s stated outright that’s she’s unhappy with how her life is right now, and she doesn’t get much enjoyment out of it. Now what could get Rose’s family out of debt and give Rose her creative freedom back? Oh. Yeah… When I put this together, I genuinely got really scared for Rose. She is such the clear standout to be tempted by a money motive, going off of the assumption that DRDT follows THH’s motives as it has been.

My only comforts that she won’t inevitably be the Chapter 3 culprit are A.) I’m not sure it’s in her personality to kill… especially after she’s been so traumatized in recent episodes from her photographic memory. I doubt she’d want that image in her head forever. B.) It seems a bit OBVIOUS that Rose would be the culprit if the motive is money. Like I said, she’s really the only character other than Teruko to have money problems as a part of her backstory, some of me feels like if the motive is money, Rose as the culprit would be too easy because she’s the only one other than the main character. But this is all just speculation and anxiety in my head ahahaha, Chapter 3 hasn’t even been announced yet, for all I know the motive could be completely different. I just wanted to share my thoughts now and see if anyone agrees or has anything to add. Thank you for reading ^_^

#danganronpa #danganronpa despair time #drdt spoilers #drdt theory

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jarofstyles · 1 year ago

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Beauty and the Beast - Nightshade

The moment you've been waiting for, the answers are here :) sorry this took a literal year (and then some)

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive content!

wc: 6.3k

warnings: not many warnings in this one, just a reference to character's death

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This wasn’t his plan.

Harry never wanted her to see this room. At least, not yet. This was… an escape from his past. One he was slowly starting to try and move on from now that he and his love had finally expressed emotions and been able to give each other the proper reactions… but no.

He had never forbidden her from it, so he couldn’t really be angry. It did flare up in him, mainly because he was scared. Terrified of these memories and his past making her want to leave and forget him because he had held on to it for so long, but nothing was making sense lately. Not a single thing.

The only thing that made sense was how good it felt to hold her. Kiss her. Fuck her. She was what he wanted, and his head had never felt more clear in terms of what he wanted.

Her.

Finding her in the room, shaking like a leaf, he was terrified that she was going to leave. She wasn’t as sneaky as she would like to believe.

He had arrived earlier than he’d planned and as if he had a 7th sense, he heard her leave the bed. The moment she opened this door, however, he sprinted up the stairs.

It seemed… off. To see her in this room. Like it was a long time coming and yet, still a kick in the face. It obviously affected her, and he wasn’t sure how.

“My love?” He approached cautiously, not sure how to handle this fully. Did he touch her? Knock her out of it with his words? Why was she staring into the mirror in such a daze? And why was she shaking? “Beloved… what is wrong?” The rasp of his voice echoed in the large room.

“Do you know her?” Y/N asked, her voice calm despite how her blood ran cold with fear. She was in a daze and everything felt slow. It almost didn’t feel real.

Her eyes were still locked on the figure in the mirror, analyzing each feature as if her life depended on it. Millions of thoughts rushed through her head, meadows and laughter, images of sharing a loaf of fresh bread in secret, swimming in lakes… her focus blurred for a moment, thoughts became memories and her head snapped from the mirror to look at him.

“She…” his voice paused as he tried to word it the right way. She wasn’t yelling yet, which was a decent sign but he also knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

He completely would understand her anger at him for having a room full of a woman that wasn’t her, but he was going to take it down. Move on, because he had her… it just happened so quickly. He had hundreds of years to dwell on the past and only a few months in the future.

“She was why I had believed… that I was going to die.” He cleared his throat. “That was who I believed to be my beloved… and she was taken from me, years ago. I loved her very much. Usually, you die when your beloved does.” The voice in his throat felt rough, still not an easy topic to approach. Let alone to his new lover.

“So I thought… I was slowly losing it. And we lose ourselves to madness eventually, when our beloved are killed. However… all of the madness seems to be gone for me.” He was still confused on how that happened. He could have sworn that she was. But seeing Y/N standing in front of him now… he wasn’t sure at all.

The connection they had felt incredible.

“I’m sorry I’ve kept the things so long. I know it must be difficult to look at.”

“I’ve been seeing her in my dreams for months, Harry…” Y/N spoke, still too startled to express any emotion. “She practically lives in my brain.” She shook her head.

It was an odd feeling. Nothing Y/N could ever explain in words. He had loved her… truly enough to think she was the one. This woman who had been living in the shadows of her mind for months.

It seemed like she was the one going insane, not Harry.

“I’ve seen her at least once every week since I moved here… I feel like she has my eyes— don’t you think?” She asked timidly, swallowing the dryness in her throat to try and make sense of this. “Do you see her in me? Is that how I got here?”

Harry felt his already cold body freeze over.

Months?

“And you haven’t… you haven’t been in here at all?” He questioned wearily. When she shook her head, he swallowed.

Christ.

The vampire was positive there were no other hints of her around the house. This room was the one he came in when he wanted to think about her. It was how he kept sane for a good while. But the idea that she had constantly been seeing her… it startled him.

“I… I never really thought about comparing you to her.” The cool hands cupped her warm face, taking a look. Though, now looking at her… there were some uncanny similarities. The eyes. The lips. He knew them.. for far longer than he had known Y/N. “You are different. In most ways. I never thought of her in you, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re.. a very different person but you share some things. Some phrases… mannerisms. But I never put you both in a mirror.”

He liked her all on his own.

“I don’t know how this is possible.” He tilted her head up and stroked her heated cheek with his thumb, trying to wrack his mind over how it could happen. “Is she… what happens in your dreams, love?” His voice softens immensely, trying to coax out more of her thoughts.

“She doesn’t hurt me or scare me,” Y/N spoke, lips more in a pout now that he was holding her face. “She just… she knows something I don’t and she’s trying to tell me,” Y/N explained and closed her eyes. She needed to ground herself.

Knowing Harry had never compared them brought her a lot of peace. That still didn’t change the fact that it felt like looking into a mirror.

“You spent lots of time with her outside…” Y/N spoke quietly, humming with her eyes still closed. “You would pick her flowers… you swam… she really loved you.”

If it was possible, he knew his heart would stop.

“How do you know that?” He asked, considering just how she knew his antics. How she was aware of the fact that they’d pick flowers and swim and kiss in the sunlight. When he would risk it all to be outside with her because the sunshine made her happy and warm.

“She’s trying to talk to you?” And she wasn’t trying to rip Y/N to pieces? That was unusual for her. Possessiveness was a main personality trait for her and he didn’t mind it at all, but he was curious as to how the hell she didn’t seem to mind if she was inside of her head.

“What is she trying to say, angel?” He placed his forehead on hers. “Hm? Is she just telling you what we used to do?” That would be incredibly peculiar. How was she even communicating with her at all? And how was a human capable of receiving those sorts of messages?

If he didn’t know better, Harry would have assumed she would read his journals. But he knew where she was at all times, and never had the girl ventured into this room or opened a book that didn’t belong to her.

“You went somewhere earlier…” She decided to skip over his comment, choosing rather to focus on how the hell she was recalling this information. “When I woke up Ida said you’d be out for longer—”

The thoughts in her mind seemed to relax and she was able to open her eyes and look at him again.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Y/N searched his eyes for something to hold on to, she felt like she could give him more answers if he was fully transparent with her.

“No more secrets.”

The man took a breath, closing his eyes this time as he tried to figure out just how to explain this part to her.

“Okay. No more secrets.”

His hand took hers and led her towards the velvet green couch, sitting her down on it and sitting far too close next to her. Clasping her smaller hands in his own, he took a moment to compose himself.

“I went to see if I could find the contact information for a witch. Someone who knows far more about the soul-bonding process and could explain to me what had happened, why I was feeling the way I was…” he paused, throat drying slightly as he squeezed her hands. “Why I feel the way I do when I thought we only have one chance at love.”

His green eyes met hers, showing that he genuinely was confused but he cared. He cared for her so much, he loved her. It shouldn’t be possible, but Harry knew what he was feeling.

“You know… I thought maybe I was actually dying. And I wanted to spare you from it. But when I woke up, I knew I had to dig for answers. I couldn’t just allow you to suffer along with me as we had gotten attached. So I went to a frequent spot for the… otherworldly.” He chuckled lightly at the words he used. There probably were better ones, but it would make the most sense to her.

“When she died… I felt myself mourn. I was in so much grief and pain and anger... I've never physically hurt that badly before and yet…” He licked his dark pink lower lip, eyes searching hers. Recognizing bits of them. Now that he was thinking about the connection… It was true.

“I never felt the snap. I never felt… like I was going to die. That's what I’ve always been told. For soul bonds to break, for one of us to have died, the other should have felt the severing. And I never did.”

“Did you meet the witch?” Y/N asked as if that was a normal question for a human to ask a vampire. It seemed like for the time being Y/N wasn’t entirely there at the minute.

She tilted her head and waited for his answer, eyes taking in every bit of his appearance. Y/N had a feeling that he knew something that would make sense of the messages in her head. The feelings she was feeling as her own.

“I… Didn’t.” He grumbled, letting his eyes fall again. Another area where he had failed her. Truly, he wanted to be good to her. He wanted to give her the best and he couldn’t even figure out why he had gone crazy.

“I put in an inquiry. They’re busy people and while I may have a lot of pull in this world, they’re the ones with the answers. I was told I’d have someone show up to give me some, but I didn’t want to pour my story out to a witch that wasn’t going to help.”

He let himself relax slightly as she didn’t seem to get angry at him now. She just looked like she wanted answers… answers that were very valid. He knew he had been a bit of a dick for not giving them to her right away. He should have been transparent but… how?

It was difficult, usually, to work humans into this world. It was actually a bit… strange how well adapted she was.

-500 years prior-

The worst day of Harry’s life had started just like any other.

Summer was quickly coming to a close and while he himself didn’t mind the shift to cooler temperatures and shorter days, his beloved seemed to mourn the summer. Celeste believed that there was nothing that would ever compare to the feeling of dunking yourself into the lake on a warm day. She believed that there was nothing that brought her more tranquillity than gazing up at the stars while the warm humid air hugged her skin. Even when bug bites adorned her legs Summer reminded her that she was still human.

“My darling, wake up. We have to go.” The familiar sleepy voice of her lover woke Celeste from her slumber. With a firm yet gentle shake, she allowed her eyes to flutter open and adjust to the darkness of their cottage. “Please, we haven’t much time.”

The sound of footsteps quickly approaching from outside left Harry in a panic, but he couldn’t let her see. And while he felt Celeste was blissfully unaware of the fate that awaited her, the look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

Celeste never thought her worst nightmare would actually come true. She had spent years protecting her home and the land around it. Her enchantments attracted nothing but positive light and all those who crossed her path were destined to meet her. All the animals knew they were welcome and always rewarded her for her efforts to enrich their earth. Celeste had spent her whole life here in the forest, only venturing into town when she urgently needed something. It wasn’t safe for witches in town, the common folk were terrified of magic and the creatures and spirits that fed off of them, but it was the job of her and her sisters to keep the city safe from any harm in secrecy.

She had met Harry by chance, she remembered the day so vividly. She stumbled upon him on her way home– She remembered the dazed look in his eyes and the blood on his collar. He looked so ashamed, crying against the back wall of the local bakery. Never had Celeste seen a vampire show so much remorse after feeding, but then again she hadn’t seen many vampires with her own eyes, to begin with. The Vampires upheld their deal of peace and ethics, as long as the witches protected them from the hunters.

The very hunters who were now trying to take her love away from her.

They’d been so careful. She knew that the safest place for Harry to be was with her. But it seemed that even her powers weren’t enough to overcome the evil that possessed humankind. The universe would always find its balance somehow, even in the cruelest of ways.

“Harry, they cannot know– I should not follow you, I fear they will question why I am not in my home at this hour should they find I am not here…” Celeste whispered, motioning down towards the tunnel in her cellar. They had talked about this plan before, but Celeste always knew she could never convince him to go on his own. So she never told him that part of the plan.

“My love, I refuse to leave you here alone–” A shout from the outside left his words to die in his throat. Harry shook his head, taking her wrist and pulling her with him without another word. Harry was cautious. Though he was aware that these men were after him and not his beloved, he couldn’t bring himself to trust those who have brought his kind nothing but shame and suffering. The hunters were everything but fair and if they had any reason to believe she was living with a fugitive, he knew she would be as good as dead.

He had dreams of them running away and rebuilding a home elsewhere, somewhere they could be truly safe. There were vampires who lived in the north who had mastered the art of camouflage. Rumors spread like wildfire saying they were mated and bonded, that they lived with humans who let them feed in a mutual exchange. Maybe it was wishful thinking on his part, but Harry would give up anything if it meant he could have the life he dreamed of with her. He just needed her there with him.

“My love, they shall not bring me any harm. The tunnel, it will bring you to the lake, you know your way from there. I promise I will find you once they see there is nothing for them to find here.” Celeste’s voice was soft as she reached to smooth the worry away from his brow. “Such a worry wort.” She giggled though she knew her fate was much to worry about. There could only be one reason the hunters would be suspicious of her. If her enchantments broke, it meant the fates had decided it was their time. Celeste, however, would never give him up, she knew he would wait for her forever. No, she could and would not let them find him.

Harry’s head turned quickly as he saw an orange glow begin to creep through the windows. He chose to be selfish in the little time he had left, pressing a kiss so full of love and longing that he hoped that it would somehow change her mind. The way her lips melded over his with a hunger she only saved for their most intimate moments, he swore they would be etched in his mind forever. He knew she wouldn’t let up.

“You must find me.” Harry breathed, his words a command as he pressed another desperate kiss to her lips. “My love, you are the only thing worth living for.” He hesitated, not wanting to leave this precious moment in fear that it would be their last.

With each second, he could hear the footsteps growing closer and closer, his eyes memorizing her form till he couldn’t anymore. A final stolen kiss was all he left for her as he disappeared into the cellar and ran like hell.

He shouldn’t have left her there, he knew that now.

In a sick and twisted way, he thanked the gods for sparing him the piercing sounds of her screams as she begged for mercy, for when he returned, the bloodied sight left him feeling hollow. She put up a fight, the way he always knew she would, but it seemed that the hunters came with no remorse. How could they claim that they were ridding the town of evil when they had done such cruel and horrible things to the purest creature he had ever known?

“It should have been me.” He thought, swallowing down thick tears, but as he looked around he realized that this evil would not have stopped at him.

-end of flashback-

He hadn’t taken the death of Celeste well.

He had avenged her the best he could. Ripped the hearts out of every single person he could trace to her death, letting them die the way he felt every day without her. It felt like he had little to no emotion, feeling only pain when he woke up.

It continued like that for years until he became comfortably numb. Still questioning why and how. Living without her was worse than any death, worse than anything he had ever could have imagined. But there was always this little light that never fully smothered. Her voice in the back of his mind saying she would find him again. His own recurring dreams that he figured were just a comfort to his psyche. The hope.

Once he met Y/N though? It had gone away. Completely. No more dreams. Almost any yearning was gone. He felt like a patch had been placed on the gaping wound and it had made him feel very, very guilty at first until he realized that maybe she would want him to be happy.

Y/N was so familiar. Like a piece of him in her that had stolen his breath when she had walked into the estate. Sure, she resembled Celeste more than some others did but she was her own person. He had fallen for her knowing that.

Y/N’s thoughts were running wild in her mind, attempting to connect the pieces of the story that she herself didn’t know. The longer she looked around the room the calmer came over her body where normally she’d expect rage and sorrow. Another woman adorned his walls, but Harry was only really focusing on her.

“Y/N tell me what you’re thinking of. I wish you would have told me about these dreams sooner, but there isn’t much we can do now except wait for–” Harry’s sentence was cut off by a knock on the door.

“Sir, someone is here to see you–” Ida began her introduction, but the woman behind her seemed to feel right at home.

“Oh goodness!” The woman exclaimed, stopping to take a look around the room. She didn’t look to be that old, but her spirit was far older than Harry and Y/N both. “I had a feeling you’d honor my sister, but with such commitment? I see the fates wanted some entertainment. Bless your no longer beating heart.” She smiled, placing a hand over her heart before approaching the two. “My dear, how are you finding your new body? It’s good to see you again. I’ve been awaiting your call.”

“What?” Y/N blinked at the woman, cocking her head as she tried to figure out why she looked so familiar. How did she know her? Where did she know her from?

Oh god.

This was not the way he wanted it to go- nor did he fully understand what exactly was happening. His brows furrowed, tucking Y/N into his body in slight protection as he stood up straighter, keeping a hand on her. As if she would slip away.

“Harry? What is she talking about?” Her voice peeped behind him, her hand tangled in his shirt. A resounding ache echoed in his chest as he stared at the witch.

Astrid.

Celeste’s sister. One for who Harry harbored a lot of resentment for not warning them. For not protecting his beloved back then. She had been somewhat nonchalant. Telling Harry that Celeste would meet him in another life. Her lack of care had ruined their goodwill, making Harry feel as though she didn’t fucking care that the love of his life - well, past? It confused them- was gone.

“I don’t know, darling.” His grip on her was firm, making Astrid scoff.

“Calm down, Fangs. I’m not going to hurt my sister… though- I have a feeling based on the incredibly confused faces, you haven’t actually figured it all out yet?” She laughed, shaking her head as she tried to peek around Harry. “Should probably listen to messages all the way through- just got excited to see her again. Tell me.” She paused, growling slightly when Harry kept her from view. “What’s your name in this life, sister? What did you choose? Y/N or Violeta?”

Y/N felt her heart drop to her stomach, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat before attempting to speak.

“How did you– Y/N. My name is Y/N.” Y/N looked between Astrid and Harry, waiting for one of them to tell her what on earth was going on. It seemed Harry was hesitant to accept the help of this woman, but she knew her name. “What is going on?” While her heart was beating a million miles a minute, she tried her best to sound strong. She was angry that Harry once again was hiding something from her, he clearly knew this woman and this woman knew him.

“Darling, I feel as though this is something you should take on with your… well since you haven't bonded I’m not sure what he is to you.” Astrid chuckled, “Always cautious you are, Harry. So respectful of my sister, but still haven’t learned to trust now did you?” She smirked seeing the anger flare through Harry’s expression. “No need to get angry at the truth, Harry. You mustn’t lie to the girl any more than you have.”

“Look, if you came here to laugh in our faces, you might as well make your way out.” Y/N felt her jaw clenching. “I’ve been having dreams of this woman since I’ve stepped foot in this home, your sister? You think I’m her?” Y/N asked in a pointed tone, she refused to have any more time wasted.

“I didn’t lie.” He snarled, baring fangs. He didn’t want to make this any more painful or weird than it already was for them! “I wasn’t sure. That is why I called to ask!”

“Blah, blah. Harry, you’re dense. Y/N- I apologize if that’s how it seems. Harry and I have always had our differences since your passing.”

Y/N blinked.

What?

What?!

“I know you are. It’s adding up.” She began softly, lowering her tone. The poor thing didn’t actually know, and Celeste was trying to pop through and this humanity she had been raised with was something that was trying to push it back. “The dreams you’ve been having aren’t dreams. They’re memories.” She sat on the armchair opposite where they were standing. Astrid was overly comfortable and it made Harry irritated, but Y/N could feel a seedling of fondness creep into her tummy.

It felt like she knew her.

“When Celeste died- I saved her soul.” She began, kicking her feet up on the table. “She- aka, you- always had an issue fitting in. It’s why she was targeted. A vampire and a witch… everyone could see it. Harry was struggling at the time, still adjusting to coming into vampiric adulthood. You both were so in love, you couldn’t see that people were noticing things. The way she never got sick, the things she could conjure up… it was incredible for the time period.” Astrid rolled her eyes slightly.

“And Harry? He abused conjuring. He got whatever he wanted whenever you batted those long eyelashes. Whipped to the tenth degree.”

Harry winced because as crude as she sounded… she wasn’t wrong.

“Two fools in love. I found out too late about the plans. I couldn’t save your physical form- but I saved your soul. Unfortunately…” she had the grace to look a bit bashful.

“Someone stole it. Vanessa- she had always been jealous of you and Harry. She had broke through an enchantment and stole the bottle I had your soul in. I got it back only a bit ago. That’s why it took so long. And Harry, here.” She gave him a glare. “Ignored my letters for a good few centuries. Rude.”

It was all a bit much to take in.

Y/N wasn’t sure what she was expecting, after all, it did involve vampires and witches. This certainly wasn’t on her list.

“So, you have my soul?” Y/N asked as if it was normal. As if she had any idea of how she ended up here. This whole time she thought she was her own person but this was a part of her. It didn’t make any sense, there was still a piece missing to the puzzle.

“Well, when I got it back, I drove up north because it seems all the bloodsuckers moved— and I released it.” Astrid continued, “About… say how old are you?”

“Almost 23.” Y/N swallowed, noticing how Astrid seemed pleased at her answer.

“23 years ago sounds about right.” Astrid hummed, “You know Harry, you should be thankful I brought her so close to you— who knows what would have happened had I not come up here.” It was clear that she was teasing, just getting the vampire riled up for her own entertainment.

“Any who… If Harry had opened my letters, he would have heard all about it. I’m glad you two found each other, I know how deeply you care for him… always knew you’d try to outsmart the fates— but you better not mess about this time!”

“Astrid.” He growled, feeling the rage inside of him brewing. “This is not funny.”

“I mean.” She waved her hand. “It’s a little funny. You’ve got each other now, don’t you? She isn’t gonna stick out so much. I figured you’d have that stick out of your arse since you’ve gotten her back butttttt…”

“You could have rang! Found me! Told me so I didn’t live in misery all these years. Of course, I’m ecstatic she is back, but you played me. Made me think there wasn’t a chance.”

Y/N could see him bristling, stiff as a board, with hair standing up on the back of his neck. Truly, he looked a bit monster like as she looked at his bared fangs and the veins that blackened beneath his eyes.

Her favorite show hadn’t been too far off.

“Harry.” She whispered, placing her hand on his chest. “Please. You’ve got to relax. I’m upset too. I’m confused. But getting combative isn’t going to give us answers.” She wasn’t afraid of him. Despite what most humans would feel, Y/N wasn’t worried about him hurting her. He would never. His hands were meant to nurture her. Soothe her. Pleasure. Not hurt.

Harry felt the warmth of her hand on his chest, the stiffness of his body relaxed a little. The veins and fangs remained, but his gaze softened as it laid on her.

“I’m sorry.” He gently pulled her to lean into his side, hand cupping the back of her head and letting her be pulled into his embrace. “I know you don’t like to see me like that.”

Harry was confused, because despite Celeste’s soul being inside of her… he fell in love with Y/N.

Her laugh, her giggle, her cinnamon sugar toast. Her painting, her cadence, and the way she preferred rubies to diamonds. The way her hair fell into her face even when she placed it up into that sleepy, messy bun. Her stories from school and how she always wanted to save any animal she saw outside.

It wasn’t just Celeste’s soul, but the personality she had gained here.

“She said she’d find you did she not?” Astrid asked with a chuckle, “and she’s here! You should be thanking me! It’s your own fault you haven’t bonded with her yet.” She rolled her eyes, though the sight of her sister in her new form warmed her heart.

She was different now— it seemed that the time in limbo had done her some good. Y/N seemed more free, almost innocent, it felt like she had found herself again. That sweet little girl that found joy in the peculiar, had found her way back home.

“Look, it’s quite simple�� you love each other no? Harry, if you weren’t such a coward you would have already figured all of this out but it seems I must spell it out for you.” The woman grumbled as she stood up to leave.

“Celeste is alive and well, she’s found a home in Y/N’s soul the day she was born. Of course, they aren’t the same person, but when Celeste died her essence got a fresh start in her.” She started, looking between the two. “The second you bond with her, her memories will come back— but it won’t be Celeste. Unfortunately, well I guess fortunately for you, unless I recovered her body I wouldn’t be able to resurrect her fully. But she lives on within Y/N.”

Y/N was at a loss for words.

It was a bit disheartening, to think that her whole existence was just merely a part of some witch's plan for immortality. But if Astrid was telling the truth and that she was just a part of her, then it couldn’t be so bad right?

Surely it would hurt to see Harry get excited about seeing parts of Celeste in her, but if she was her then surely not? it all seemed a bit confusing. She wasn’t sure how it would work, but she was scared, to say the least.

“I….” He swallowed.

It was complicated. A weird mix of relief for finally having her back with him, but sadness because he knew how this was going to look to Y/N. The situation was quite literally one that had never happened in history books before.

“I fell in love with her. As much as Celeste will always be a part of me… I’m a little bit confused.” He turned slightly to Astrid. “She’s going to be… she will be aware of those memories?” He tried to soothe Y/N, his smooth hands running down her back but he could feel the unease oozing off of her.

“Oh, yes. But it doesn’t have to be complicated. Y/N, you’ve always been a bit confused about the missing pieces, haven’t you? Why you always feel as though Harry is so familiar to you? He’s literally made for you. Your body is a different vessel, but you’re still having the same feelings. It’s always been right.” Astrid paused, thinking of a good example.

“It’s why when you first moved in and Harry was probably his cold self and kept you at an arms length, it probably hurt, didn’t it? You felt a bit weird internally but shut it down because you’ve always been a bit too rational. Knowing you didn’t have a ‘right’ to feel upset but you did. It’s your old memories, old feelings. Harry wasn’t one to ever skimp on attention so it probably felt odd.”’

Y/N wasn’t going to bother asking how or why she knew that. It seemed that Y/N was just better off keeping to her ignorant bliss. Astrid had proved to both of them she knew far more about this than they did and she wasn’t going to fight— especially when they knew nothing about this soul bonding process on their own.

“I-I… if you’re saying I’m Celeste then are you saying I’m a witch as well?” Y/N asked curiously, though, she was uncertain about how she would feel about her answer. It was entirely possible. Were there rules she had to follow? Was there anything she had to do once she came into those powers?

Y/N was overwhelmed, to say the least, allowing herself to fully lean on Harry for support. She felt like this new information called for a long nap and a delicious meal immediately after she woke up. Nuzzling her face against Harry’s side she closed her eyes, waiting for Astrid’s answer. She didn’t care if she was being rude. Poor girl was feeling a bit lightheaded.

His cold body was a relief to the flush of heat that was through her at all of the intense information she had just received. She could have moaned as he placed his hand on the hot skin at the back of her neck, clutching onto him in a way that made the vampire a bit stressed.

“Yes. You absolutely are. Come on, girl. Do you really think that people can get things as easily as you? The manifesting thing on steroids? The things you chant to make yourself feel better…” Astrid laughed at the pure ignorance. The poor thing had been blissfully ignorant of everything up until now. “The powers are mostly dormant, I’m assuming. Considering you haven’t burnt the place down with rage, my sister, you have been held back. My assumption is that when Dracula bites you, the powers will start to come back as the bond strengthens.” She could feel Harry blinking at her, making her toss her hands up in a ‘whatever’ gesture. “I’ve done my reading. Deducing. Much better than that Sherlock did.”

He hadn’t known this would be the outcome and he had mixed feelings about it all. His old love was his new love, vice versa. He felt like his feelings were a betrayal to both of them.

The good thing was, though, his beautiful Y/N wouldn’t age the way a human would. She could truly be with him. It would be a matter of the soul mate bond snapping back into place instead of this constant edging between their souls and hearts.

“Fates.” Harry closed his eyes, massaging the back of Y/N’s neck soothingly. “Alright. Astrid- get out of my house. She’s feeling faint. Stay around the area, I’ll need you to return or at the very least, send one of your own to help her soon. She needs to be aware before I bond her fully.” He wanted Y/N to choose. Not just the older part of her soul.

“Alright, alright… but don’t wait too long, you don’t want to her find dead one morning.” Astrid sighed, half joking but there was some truth to it. Now that she was aware of the fates plan, there was only so much time left for them to decide. “You’ll know where to find me.” With a wave of her hand, Astrid was out the door.

Y/N was far too in her own mind to have heard her last comment, but Harry heard it crystal clear. While he may be a vampire, he was no stranger to the way the fates worked.

The fates were fair and just— it was their job to maintain balance here on earth, both for humans and the supernatural. At times their job led to making harsh decisions, if anyone broke the laws of the universe then they would see their fate flash before them.

Harry had never met someone as pure and kind as Y/N surely she was on the fates good side. He simply couldn’t see Celeste in her the way it seemed Astrid could. Though he loved Celeste dearly, he knew that their relationship was bound to end in a bloody disaster— he’d expected himself to be the one to break but the fates clearly had other plans.

Y/N let out a shaky breath against his shirt, clinging to him to find some stability. She needed to ground herself.

She needed to lay down.

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writingsfromhome · 1 year ago

Text

Impossibly Real II

Y’all loved Part 1 and honestly were so sweet about it. I had to wrap up their story in return 💗

——————————————————

Harry knocks on my door and I open it before he's even done. I was excited for this date, I really think this was going to be a good one.

That didn’t stop me, however, from having mad jitters while getting ready. In the end I settled on wearing a silky pink skirt and with a fuzzy pastel pink sweater that was my favourite go-to. I paired it with white boots (still heeled) and some gold accessories. I was feeling myself.

As soon as Harry sees me in the doorway he takes a step back. “Wow. You look…stunning.”

I feel my cheeks heat, unused to this kind of attention from Harry. And I could tell he meant it—it wasn’t just a cheap compliment to get in my pants. I try not to show my internal squirming. “Thank you. You look very handsome!”

“Ah,” he waves the compliment away. “You see me wear this sort of thing to work all the time.”

“I know but you shaved,” I reach out to touch his face and then think better of it. We hadn’t even gone further than my door yet.

“I did,” he rubs his face like I wanted to.

“I like the smell of your aftershave,” I say as we get onto the lift and the smell bounces off the four walls.

He leans all the way down so that his neck is beside my face. I giggle—god, I actually giggle. I feel an overwhelming desire to rub my nose against the heat of his skin but I keep my freak hidden and fake an exaggerated whiff instead.

“C’mon,” Harry holds his hand out and we head out to the tube, my hand securely wrapped in his; I feel giddy just holding his hand.

This was going to be the best date ever.

I mean, it was still weird going on a date with my neighbour. For one, he had to only close the door to his home, turn around, and knock on my door to pick me up. For another, I'd seen Harry a million times since I moved in last year and not once did I ever think we would be doing this.

Harry and I talk all the way to the place about a new Netflix show we were both watching. It's light conversation, we don't acknowledge the fact that we're actually doing a proper date. That we were both mega into each other. It's almost like we were simply traveling into work and casually chatting 'til we reached our destination.

The restaurant—Harry’s pick, is tucked onto a street corner near Soho, the window shades are blackened except for a fancy script. Island X.

“I’ve never heard of the place.”

“It just opened a couple months ago,” Harry holds the door open for me; who said chivalry was dead.

“Wow,” I marvel at the interiors. It’s like someone took the Great Gatsby and worked it with wood tones and orange lighting. And monstera plants.

“That’s a lot of monsteras.”

“What?” Harry asks.

“Monsteras?” I wave my hand at all the ginormous planters but Harry’s attention is to the front of the line.

“Monsteras?” He asks, eyes still forward. “Like. The Lil Nas x song?”

“What?” I crinkle my brow. But then it clicks and I can’t help but laugh. “Oh my god you think I’m talking about-“

“Hiya!” The hostess interrupts me and I cover my mouth.

“Are you laughing at me?” Harry whispers as we follow to our table.

“Yes,” I wipe my tears as we’re lead to a cozy corner. I’m even tucked into my seat!

“Wow I’ve never been to someplace as fancy as this?”

“Really?” Harry’s face flits with a microsecond of an emotion I can’t read. “I thought maybe this was your scene.”

“Oh no,” I shake my head. “This is very fancy. I’m kinda low brow.”

“Oh,” his eyebrows knit together and he fiddles with his napkin. “Some woman at work suggested it.”

“Oh who?” I ask. Harry’s spoken to me about work before, I thought maybe it was a coworker I knew.

“Just someone that works on the same floor.” He pulls his glass of water close to him. “She’s just a friend.”

“Oh I didn’t mean it like…” I trail off. Why would he think I was being jealous?

Suddenly the awkwardness of the situation washes over me. I was on a date. With my neighbour. If this didn't end well we were screwed. I would lose my only friend in the entire neighbourhood! It would be painful to live next door to each other! At least until one of us found a partner or one of us moved out of the complex.

The pressure of it all makes my ears ring.

“Right,” Harry clears his throat as the waiter approaches and starts to scan the wines. “Any of the wines look good to you?”

I stare at Harry while he buries his nose in the menu. Somehow I felt like I already messed up. Maybe all of these bad dates had one thing in common: me.

God, I couldn’t even make it work with a friend.

Harry glances up. I guess I forgot to respond. Before he could notice I’d been too busy staring I start to scan the menu.

“D’you mind red?” I ask.

“Sure. Which red do you recommend?” Harry asks the waiter. I think it’s cute he asks. Dates in the past have pretended to know the difference between all the names and then ordered something that usually tasted like dog shite.

They discuss the wine and I pretend to nod here and there while I browse the dinner menu. Obviously I had studied it after getting dressed tonight. I knew what was safe for me to get (pasta or seafood) and what would cause a big mess (burgers).

“I’m gonna guess what you’ll order.” Harry says once we’re alone again.

“You really think you know me well enough?”

“Yeah. I think I know you well enough.”

“I don’t think so.” He might have a lucky guess but we hadn’t eaten out together enough for him to know my taste. Plus what I wanted and what I was going to order tonight would be two different things.

“I bet you I know. I’m so confident I’m not even going to say it right now. I’ll just order for you when the waiter comes back.”

“Are we confident or cocky?” I tease.

“Confident,” he says but he drapes his arms back against his chair and relaxes, giving an f-boy cocky pose. I laugh, grateful for the reprieve of living in my thoughts.

“Ready to order?” The waiter asks after pouring our wine. It was a nice balanced wine that was helping me relax.

Harry orders his meal and then looks up at me, “She’ll get the Organic Highland Prime Burg-“

“Actually,” I cut him off. Harry looks at me with his sure smile but I shake my head. It falls immediately.

I feel bad but I just couldn’t eat a burger at a fancy place like this on a first date. I’d done it before and it had not gone over well. Think White Chicks but instead of a Terry Crews it was a Ben Shapiro.

“Sorry,” I point to the safe item. “I’ll do the Blackened Lobster Lasagna.”

“Great choice.” The waiter says something else but I’m too preoccupied with how much worse I was making the date.

“Really?” Harry asks. The waiter pauses as he looks between Harry and I and I start to flush.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” It comes out more curt than I intended and Harry just nods.

“Sorry.” I apologize to Harry again once the waiter leaves. “I didn’t really want something messy.”

“Oh. Yeah it’s alright.” He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. "The lasagna does sound really good.”

“Right? I think it'll be really good.” I hear myself talking and want to stab myself. Really. Because this king of small talk was what I fell back on talking about when a date was going bad.

I had to redeem this. This couldn’t be a bad date. This was just Harry.

“This wine’s good too,” Harry says as he puts his glass down on the edge just as I yank my foot out from under the table to show him my shoes, yanking the table cloth in the process.

“So my shoes-“

“Shit!”

His wine tips over onto my white boots and we stare at them as the stain spreads.

“Napkin-“ Harry’s voice snaps me out of the spiral I’d found myself in as I watched wine seep into my coveted shoes.

Harry’s leaning over patting it down but I yank my foot away. This was incredibly embarrassing; everyone around us was watching the scene we were making.

“We need water-“

“I’m going to the toilet,” I announce. Harry looks up sharply, his face is panicked.

“I’m sorry yn I-“

“S’cuse,” I don’t mean to brush him away but with all the eyes on me and the fact that I kept finding ways to ruin this date—this date that was supposed to be perfect, my eyes were pricking with tears. I needed a breather.

“Shite,” I sigh as I balance on one foot in the toilets and try to wipe the stain in the sink. But red wine stained badly just like my performance on every date I’ve ever been on.

“Get yourself together,” I say to myself in the mirror. “Harry is amazing and you’re fucking all this up! Shoes are temporary, finding a good man can take forever! Snap! Out! Of! It!”

I do some deep breaths and one last attempt at cleaning my shoe before I make my way out.

“Yn I’m so sorry,” Harry stands as I return. “I’m so clumsy tonight I didn’t mean to-“

“Harry it’s fine,” I put my hand on his arm. “Honestly.”

“The stain didn’t come out!” He notices the shoes. “I’ll replace them—send me a bill or…”

I don’t have the heart to tell them he couldn’t replace my £400 Acne boots that easily. I’d bought them a couple seasons ago to celebrate the fact that I’d finally gone out with a guy, and hadn’t thought about my ex once. They were I’m-officially-over-my-ex boots.

Now that I thought about it though, it was stupid to wear them on a date with Harry. They were soaked in the bad luck of all the dates they’d been on since.

Agh!

“I’m serious Har,” I cut him off from his plans to replace them. I take a deep breath and motion he should do the same. “Look, it’s really fine. Plus they’re my favourite colour now. They’ll go with the rest of my wardrobe.”

He stops apologizing and looks down at the splotch of pink on the white. “In that case. We’ll have to take the bottle home and stain the other one.”

“Deal,” I say and he smiles at me softly and it feels like things might go better now. Maybe we really had a chance.

When our food arrives Harry’s steak isn’t done how he asked, and they take it back. I awkwardly push around the food on my plate, not wanting to eat until he had his food too.

“You can eat,” Harry reminds me. “I’m sure it’ll be out any minute.”

“We can share for no-“

“Just eat,” Harry says but now all the focus is on me eating and I feel tense and awkward and quite frankly, frustrated.

I shouldn’t have piled so much hope on this date going perfectly.

We wave the waiter over when too much time has passed by, and he seems confused about the steak.

“D’you think they forgot?” I ask Harry.

“Maybe,” he looks frustrated, two spots of pink have taken residence on his cheeks. I feel bad. This date wasn’t turning out for both of us.

It takes another 10 minutes for his plate to come back out. By then my plate looks like I hated it but tried to eat it to be polite. Harry tries to ask if it can be heated but I’m way too non-confrontational in restaurants to let that happen so I shovel a mouthful of room temperature food and give the waiter a thumbs up.

I just wanted to go home.

By the time Harry pays the bill (it was expensive, even though we agreed to skip dessert. He insisted on paying) I was ready to call an uber to whiz us home. But he suggests we walk off the food to another station and it sounds like a good idea so I follow along. Maybe now we could have a nice time.

The walk was supposed to help clear our heads and be romantic but somehow the mood had soured beyond repair. We don’t talk the whole time, both of us lost in our own heads. Neither of us holds hands, or even loop arms.

And somehow it gets worse when we arrive at my door.

"Well this is me," Harry points to his door beside mine in an attempt at a joke. I throw a polite smile.

"Thanks for the date," I say. I feel like it's a little curt but I didn't really know how to act. Did we hug? Shake hands? We liked each other but clearly this date was proving we didn't belong together. Kissing each other goodnight felt like the opposite direction of tonight's vibe.

"No, thank you. And sorry. Again." Harry looks embarrassed as he glances down at my shoes.

"Harry, honestly it's okay," I try to reassure him. I would take walking ten miles in heels I had yet to break in than this awkward air that stifled us. It was never supposed to be like this!

"No it's not," Harry huffs. "I ruined your shoes."

"They're shoes. Just shoes."

"It's a first date, I don't want you thinking I'm a clumsy mess."

"Harry," I lean my back against my door. He looked so good tonight, I was so excited when I opened my door to him a few hours ago and everything had gone tits up. I didn't want him to feel this way. It was my fault, not his.

"I just," he rubs his face and then sighs.

"It wasn't that bad," I lie. The night had gone so badly.

"Yes it is!" He throws his hands up and the movement makes me flinch. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. God, everything's just..."

I blink and my eyes start to sting. It was the end of the night and we'd officially decided this wasn't going anywhere. It wasn't a shock, but still it was upsetting. I really liked him. I really thought things would work out between us, especially after that night with my heels in his bathroom. I had to call it.

"I should go in. I'll see you later Harry."

His brows scrunch up, he opens his mouth and then closes it. "G'night yn."

"G'night." I whisper. He stays there like he always does as I go into my flat. I peek through the peephole and catch him mouth a fuck before opening his own door.

Still in my outfit, my shoes kicked off to the side, I start to pace. I can't do anything except go over the date in my head.

Was there a particular moment I fucked up? Should I have said something differently? How did Harry and I go from having amazing chemistry and an honest friendship to this?

Maybe I was trying too hard. I should have just ordered the burger like he’d guessed, should have gone along with what he talked about. I should have been a better date.

That was it. I couldn't go to bed like this.

The fact that every time I had a shot at a date, a real chance, something had to go wrong and it was always me. I had to fix this.

I grab the doorknob, and pause. I was about to march right into Harry's flat and ask why the date went so terribly. But what was the point? It would just make things even more awkward.

I think about the last time we hung out. There was beer. Maybe we just need beer—no hundred pound dish or fancy red wine. We just needed to be us. Lowbrow beers and a relaxed environment.

I grab a jacket to throw over my outfit and slip into my Stan Smiths. I head downstairs and in the direction of the local shop for a 6-pack. We would drink beer in our flat and get over this awful date. This couldn't be the last of us.

As I cash out a familiar head of hair in the closest aisle catches my attention.

"Harry?"

"Yn?" He's dressed down in joggers and a jumper.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Grabbing dessert," he shakes the plastic container with donuts inside. "What are you doing here?"

I hold my box up. His eyes widen slightly, a frown touches his lips for a mere second before he arranges his face into a neutral expression.

"All for yourself?" He asks.

"No actually-“ I'm about to launch into what I was going to do but the cashier clears his throat and stares pointedly at Harry. He was holding up the line now.

"Oh sorry," he walks up to the counter and pays for his items. I stand off to the side and we walk out together.

"So you were saying?" He asks.

"Well. I was coming to your place with these."

"You were?" He stops in the middle of the sidewalk to ask.

"Yeah!"

"You're not joking?"

"No!" I laugh. "Why?"

"I..." he looks down at his box and swallows what he was saying. "Let me guess, was it a bad date?"

When he looks at me it's a cheeky look. I almost want to kiss him there.

"Another bad date yep," I tell him and we start to walk towards home.

"Was it the bloke?"

"Not exactly, I think a lot of it had to do with me."

"You sure the date wasn't an arse?"

"No he was sweet. He was very chivalrous, I really thought it was just going to go smoother."

"What do you reckon happened?" He asks. We were both enjoying playing this game. Quite frankly it was combing out the awkwardness.

"I dunno. For one I really wanted a burger but I got in my head and got lasagna instead. When do I ever eat lasagna!?” Harry laughs unexpectedly and it makes me feel good so I continue. “I started thinking about all of my failed dates and almost-relationship. I tried not to make this one date turn out like them but that was my mistake.”

“Sounds like it’s tough being you,” he teases. I push him lightly.

“Well if you could put yourself in our shoes what do you think happened?"

"I think your date got a bit nervous." He responds. By now we've reached our lobby and we take the lift up. "He's not used to going on dates—didn’t he have a steady girlfriend for 3 years? That's 3 years with 0 first dates. He didn’t want to screw things up and he was so in his head about the fact that he took her to an overly fancy place when that wasn’t her scene-“

“It’s not. But it was a cute place. Just poor service.”

“Yeah it was shite service—or I heard it was.” We glance at each other and grin. "I heard he split wine on your shoes."

"Psh," I laugh. “The pink stains were on the outside this time not the inside.”

The lift lands on our floor and we hover outside our doors. "Yours or mine?"

"Mine?" Harry opens his door and I follow the familiar hall to the couch I'd sat on just a week ago. I pull my legs up and we crack open beers, each biting into the sugary pillows he'd bought.

“I actually bought dessert so I could have an excuse to knock on your door and talk to you after that date.” Harry confesses after we’ve each had our moment with our donuts.

I feel warm inside, we’d both wanted an epilogue after the date. We were determined, and ended up in the same place. I hold my drink up. “Cheers.”

Harry tilts his head and smiles. He’s gonna be the death of me whether this works out or not, the thought pops into my head.

"I feel like I need to apologize," Harry continues. "I didn't want to mess things up and I think I just overthought it all and-"

"Please." I cut him off. "I totally made everything awkward and I think I'm just cursed."

"I don't know why I thought you would like such a fancy place. As soon as you said you're not into it I felt like I was doomed-"

"I didn't mind it! I just wasn't expecting it from you!"

"You don't think I'm a classy man?"

I laugh, "Just not that uppity on a first date."

"I was trying to pull out all the stops."

"Instead we just full stopped."

That gets a laugh from Harry. It dies down as he asks, "So what do you reckon? Is this a sign we're only meant to be neighborly friends?"

I bite my donut, mulling his question over. The beer and donuts were helping. I felt like I was thinking clearer than I had all night.

"I wouldn't say no."

We sit in silence as we think about it until he moves down the couch and rests his knee against mine.

"I really like you.”

"I like you too," I agree with my heart quickening.

"Then why don't we stop dating and just do this. No dates. Just hanging out."

"I don't know," I say. "I don't mind being wined and dined occasionally. Don’t you?”

"Okay, how about we just hang out. And when hanging out gets boring we put on our going out clothes and wine and dine each other. Think about it," he says and I nod, agreeing.

“Only if when we put on our going out clothes you keep wearing that aftershave.”

“Deal. And you wear your favourite colour each time.”

“Done.” I grin.

"So you wanna watch a movie or something?" He asks.

“Is that a euphemism?” I tease. He turns his TV on and turns to me with a disappointed look. I try not to laugh.

“No yn get your head out of the gutter. A movie. An actual movie.”

I stick my tongue out. "Can we just not watch anything romantic or sad though?”

"Toy Story it is," Harry puts on the film and we lean back against his couch, cuddled into each other. His fingers play with my hair in slow movements that feel comforting.

I wake up a few hours later, the movie long over. Harry's snoring softly, his arm wrapped around me.

I smile to myself. Even after the disaster of a date we were alright.

I nuzzle myself into the crook of his neck, feeling the musky heat of his skin, and drift back off.

***

A knock wakes me.

I open my eyes slowly and look around the room. I wasn't in my room. I was still on the couch, the cushions had done wonders for my back but my neck was stiff.

Harry was still fast asleep, his lips parted, and his arm thrown across his face. He looked so kissable then.

There was another knock, and Harry's arm slips off his face. He sits up, and the knocking resumes.

"Coming!" He shouts as he runs his hands over his face and hair.

He stands and looks back at me, and smiles. He's still sleepy but he's smiling at me.

"Morning." He says.

"Good morning."

He stays there with a dazed smile until I point behind him.

"Door?"

He nods and makes his way over to answer the door.

"Harry Sty-?" a voice asks.

“Yep,” Harry mumbles something I can’t hear. He’s asked to sign whatever it was.

"Thanks," his voice is rough and he clears it.

Closing the door behind him, he throws whatever package he'd received to the floor and walks over to me. "We fell asleep."

"I guess so. I'm still in last night's clothing." My skirt was now wrinkled and my top was half untucked and ridden up my midriff. "What time is it?"

Harry glances at his watch. "Half past 8."

"Shit! I've got work in half hour!"

"Work from here," Harry leans over me on the couch and offers his simple solution.

"I'll have to shower."

"You live next door. Just do your business and come back with your work things. It'll be like old times."

He's inches closer to me, and I really want to kiss him. It's funny we'd done none of that on our first date but now I want a re-do.

"Okay," I whisper.

"Okay," Harry whispers and he closes the distance and kisses me. It was better than our first kiss.

When I pull away I have a stupid smile on my face.

"Go get ready love," Harry laughs and pushes me off the couch. "You'll be late."

"See you later," I wave and walk out the door, smiling because he’d called me love again. And he hadn’t even hesitated.

Harry was right, it was a lot like the old days. In between work meetings, and Harry's calls, we had a lot of time to spend together. We chatted shit, snuck in some kisses, and talked about work.

We don’t go on a second date, instead we order pizza and watch Toy Story 2 (even though we'd fallen asleep in the first one).

Our days together are fun, and the nights were even more fun.

It was a Wednesday, a week and a half after the disastrous date. Harry and I had taken most of the week off and we'd spent it together, and tonight we'd gone out.

It was a great date, nothing fancy or high brow. Just a lowkey pub with a bunch of beers and greasy messy food and tons of laughter.

"So," Harry says as we're walking hand in hand back to our flat. "How many more days of leave do you have?"

"I have four and a half weeks total."

"Woah. That’s a lot."

"Why? You're not regretting this are you? Getting bored of me?" I tease him.

"I've had 29 years to prepare for you," he teases back.

"That's a good one. But I don't think you can handle 4.5 weeks.”

"Try me."

"Fine," I bump my hip into his.

We're silent for the rest of the walk. But it’s a good silence. When we reach the building, Harry takes his time unlocking his door.

"What are you doing?"

"Just waiting," he shrugs and I laugh.

"Do you want me to stay the night?"

"Yes," he answers without any hesitation; in the last week I'd slept in my bed once.

He opens the door pretty quickly after that and I follow inside—tomorrow, tomorrow I would sleep in mine. Harry could join me if he wanted.

Tonight I watch him close the door, the second the lock clicks I'm taking his jacket off for him and he's laughing at my eagerness.

"Someone's impatient."

"I'm not," I lie and drop his jacket.

"No?" He wraps his arms around me, pulling me flush against him. He kisses my jaw, and then the corner of my lips. You'd think I'd be used to this by now but it's just as dizzying as the times before.

I shake my head and his mouth hovers over mine, his hot breath tickling me.

"What about now?" He whispers.

"Nope," I breathe out and I push onto my tippy toes to kiss him. What can I say, I was denying it with him but I'd never been good at the slow and steady stuff. Harry's mouth was a drug, and I couldn't help myself.

He's not slow and steady either.

He's quick to lift me up and set me on the island in his kitchen, his fingers trailing over the edge of my skirt, his mouth working against mine.

His hand cups my ass and his fingers inch closer to my heat.

"Yn," his voice is soft and he pulls away.

"Yes?"

"Did I tell you how radiant you looked tonight? I can’t take my eyes off of you any time I see you, especially when you’re so loudly and comfortably you in your coordinated outfits and elaborate hairstyles. I feel like the luckiest guy out there. I think I am the luckiest guy in the whole city. I catch sight of you in public and…you just take my breath away."

"Aw Har. I’m already yours. You don't have to butter me up," I tease him as I pull him back to me but his words make me weaker than any kiss could. I know my eyes are growing watery at all of the nice things he’s saying and I’m grateful when he pretends not to see.

This was the nicest thing a guy has said to me, he was really telling me that he liked me for me. He felt lucky. Well I must have won the lottery if he felt lucky.

"I know I don't have," he doesn't pull back again but whispers this into my neck. A shiver runs up my spine. "But I just want to tell you that you're so beautiful."

His mouth trails over my jaw, and back to the corner of my mouth, he doesn't kiss me and I want him to.

"So beautiful," he whispers and I tilt my head back to invite him to continue the trail his lips were making. "So sweet."

He kisses my collar bone and the strap of my top. "So lovely."

His hands trail over my thighs and I want him so badly.

"You're making me melt," I tell him.

"Good thing we're in the kitchen," he hums.

"You're the worst," I giggle and his hands cup my cheeks and he presses his lips against mine. His tongue swipes over my lips and I allow him entry.

We're a tangle of limbs as we kiss and kiss, until I can't breathe. When we move to the bedroom I hardly have time to catch my breath there too.

"Yn," his voice is rough, his hair wild. His body is hot against mine and the way he says my name is enough to make me transcend this dimension.

"I like you. A lot."

"I like you too. A lot too." I can barely get the words out as I try to worm my way into his skin.

He chuckles at my growing impatience but he’s too far in to hold back again. He gives in to every one of my needs--even ones I didn't realize I had.

I'm a goner.

As we fall asleep, his arm wrapped tightly around me, I know we did the right thing. Despite being neighbours or the awful first date. The fact that we bumped into each other at the shop later that night meant we were supposed to have a second chance.

We worked best like this: warm and tucked away, whispering confessions into each other’s skin, seeing each other and not caring what we aren’t.

He pulls me closer in his sleep, sighing into my hair. This felt impossible before but it was so real now. And I think I really won the lottery; I’d dated a million toads before but I think I finally found my prince.

TAGLIST:

@kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @mellamolayla

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #i hope this meets everyones expectations #for how things go between these two #harry styles angst #fanfic #i did not do a lot of edits so dont mind any inconsistencies etc

113 notes · View notes

justjams2003 · 10 months ago

Text

Fast Pace- 13

Am I being mean by releasing the last 3 chapters week for week? Maybe just a bit 🤭

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', nudity, a garbage family, family trauma, disowning, tell me if I missed any

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian @hachrinnen

Word count: 3,2k

Masterlist

Part 12 ~Part 14 (coming soon)

“Elle dort profondément, la journée a été longue.” Y/N’s brother and parents both look up at me in shock. I can’t help but laugh at their expressions. We’ve been here three days and if it weren’t for her family, it would be idyllic.

We’ve gone hiking in the beautiful mountains, she’s shown me all around her hometown. She has so many memories here, a lot of them good, but when I hear the things her mother says to her, I can’t but wonder if she’s sugar coating some of it.

“What? You didn’t think that me, a million-dollar man who travels the world every day, with a French teammate, wouldn’t speak French? Not even a little?” I can only sigh at their foolishness; I see now why my sweet girl is so easy to...shape. Luckily for her, she has me and no one would dare hurt her with me around. Her family, however, after what I’ve seen they don’t get the same lenience.

I sit down on the table, “Tell me, how much do you want?” If I was some old-timey villain I would take out my checkbook and write some obscure numbers with lots of zeros. Her brother furrows his brows, “How much of what?”

I chuckle, I thought at least he would be smarter, I guess not. “Money. How much do you want to never speak to Y/N ever again?” Her mother scoffs and begins rambling about just how important she is to her.

“Look, you’re a terrible influence on my precious girl. You make her feel terrible about herself after I spent all that time convincing her otherwise. Now, we can do as normal families do and only see each other on the holidays. Even then, it’s going be exhausting for her. So, why don’t we just take a short cut? How much money for you to kick her out of your life, permanently?” Her brother looks appalled and disgusted.

His fist goes to find my jaw, but I catch his hand before he even comes close. “Be serious, you might be a rough and tough city farm boy, but I’ve spent years of my life practising my reflexes.” I take him by his shoulders and shove him back down in his chair. “How much will it be, mom, dad? Fifty thousand, a hundred thousand, or shall we go into the millions?” Everyone goes quiet at the numbers I’m talking of.

“See? That wasn’t so hard? Now, Cash or Card?”

“They’re so unbelievable! You know what, no, I’m glad that they did this. She’s been nothing but a cruel bitch all my life. Now that I’m happy, she hates it.” She screams into the phone, she’s standing next to the bathroom trying to get some distance from other people.

“No, I don’t care if they’re my family, who says that to someone?” She scoffs, likely she’s talking to Jasmine and Ilsa, I know Alex and Kika would defend me.

She’s angry, a wrinkle in a brow and I just want to make it all go away. Maybe even, I’ll have to get rid of those two friends as well. They’re not good for her either. “I know I’ve only known him for a month and a half, but it’s been the best few weeks of my life! It’s been better than anything I’ve had with that fucked family of mine. And the fact that you two can’t see that, really shows me something about you two.”

Her footsteps are loud on the floor of the plane. She throws her phone on the seat and plops herself down in my lap. Instantly her head finds the crook of my neck and her small hand takes fists full of my shirt. She pulls me as close as possible to me and wrap my arms around her. This is where she belongs, nowhere else but in my arms.

Her whole-body shakes as sobs make its way through her. “No te preocupes, mi dulce niña. Estoy aquí para ti. No importan, sólo estamos tú y yo. Just you and me. You have me now, you don’t need them.” I soothe her cries, rubbing circles on her back as she mumbles on about how awful they are and how evil they’re being.

I know it’s better for her in the long run, but it hurts my heart to see her like this. Hurting. At the same time, having her cling to me as if I am her lifeline is a feeling I can’t help but savour.

“Carlos, where are we going?” A sigh escapes me. “Singapore, for the next race. But I have to talk to you about it.” She raises her head; she has these big doe eyes that has this melting effect on me. Yet at the same time, it makes the khaki’s I’m wearing tighter than I’d like it to be. “This is going to be the hardest race of the year. For the rest of the week until at least Friday, I’m going to be very busy with very hard training.”

I know for a fact that this is the worst time possible to leave her alone. Right now, I need to be with her every moment. She has to be with me and no one else otherwise my whole plan will be for nothing. I have to be the only one comforting her, if not she’ll think that she can rely on others. My sweet thing whines at the realisation and goes to hide her face again but I stop her before she does.

“I know, I’m sorry. But, I really don’t want to leave mi dulce niña alone, no?” She shakes her head, wiping her tears with the same hoodie I’d given her at the very beginning. I might have blasted the AC, just to see her wear it again. I know it gives her comfort and she just looks like a doll with it on. So small and so cute, I feel as if the love is oozing from my heart.

“Now, we have one of two options. It’s not too late, we can still turn this plane around. Get you a nice, big apartment somewhere in France.” She stops me before I can even continues.

“No, I don’t ever want to see that damn country ever again. What if I see one of them again? I’d much rather live on the streets.” I can’t help but smirk, taking her small hands into mine.

“I thought so. What about somewhere in Madrid? Why don’t you move in with me?” Her eyes go even bigger and bites down on that puffy lower lip of hers. I adjust her to sit on my other leg, the friction between us making me rock hard. Soon after, her eyes avoid mine. Her eyebrows pull together and I can’t help but reach up and smooth the crinkle in her forehead.

So much seems to be running through her mind, and it shouldn’t be. Things should be easy for her, look pretty and be my pet. That should be the end of it. But this world can be so heartless and make the important people in our lives hurt. “Tell me, mi niña bonita, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

She sighs and then gives me those big doe eyes again. This time they’re all puffy from crying, and she looks just as beautiful as the day I met her. “Daddy, I don’t want to leave your side.”

Her words are like lava through my body. I take her chin and give her a kiss on her cheek. “I know, baby, but what other option is there? Follow me everywhere I go? You’ll get bored, I’m sure.” She doesn’t hesitate and shakes her head.

“No, no, I promise. I’ll be good.” This would be more perfect than any other option. Having her by my side for the whole world to see. “I don’t know, cosas dulce,” it’s mostly just an act, I want her to beg. “Please Daddy, please?” She jumps ever so slightly on my lap and I can’t help but holding her waist to keep her still, not knowing how much longer I can hold out. Especially when she’s like this.

Y/N takes her small hands and hold my face. Then she places a kiss on my cheek, then the other. I take her petite hands in mind. “Oh, alright, but no whining missy.” I hold out my hand, showing how stern I am. But she wraps her fingers around mine and gives me the biggest brightest smile. “You know I can’t say no to you.”

“Carlos?” I had just finished pretty extensive training for the race. The whole gym room’s heat is all the way up to 30 Degrees Celsius, sweat is dripping off me. My hair is wet, luckily my girl gave me one of her headbands to keep my hair out of my face.

I could see her eyeing me the whole time. I couldn’t bare the heat much long, and just had to take my shirt of. Or maybe it was tactical to get her attention, nobody will ever know.

“Yes, mi querido?” She gets up from her seat, discarding her phone which she had been so engulfed in before. Her hips sway, she too is sweating and is wearing the smallest little shorts I’ve seen in a while. It entrances me, every time she walks, the way her legs move. The way those tiny shorts sits a way below her naval. Showing off what all the boys are missing out on.

Y/N makes her way over to me, her fingers dancing on my shoulder. “No, mi cosa bonita, you don’t want to touch me. I’m sweaty and smelly.” She scoffs and wraps her arms around my neck. “You’re saying that like I care.” I can’t help but chuckle at her attitude. Yes, last week changed her, but so far it’s for the better. My hands find her hips, “You’ve been looking so good lately, cosas dulce.”

Her laugh alights my whole body. “You’ve been using that one a lot lately, I’ll have to google it,” I pretend to wince at her words. “No, cosas dulce, I might get in trouble.” Now she really does laugh, throwing her head back like she does when she’s comfortable. “Why do you laugh?” She shakes her head, “You, Mister Sainz, could never get in trouble with me. You’ve been nothing but perfect.”

I pull her closer to me, our hips touching the other. “Is that so? I’ll have to hold you up to that.” I can’t help but place kisses all over her bare neck. “Except right now.” My heart rises and I’m just glad the monitors aren’t on.

Has she found out? No, no it can’t be. If she did, she’d be a lot more upset. Or would she? Would she be happy that I did it? Relief to get rid of them and have them well cared for at the same time. She doesn’t look happy now, but she doesn’t look to upset.

“I’m scrolling through Instagram, right, only to see an edit about you. Guess my surprise that I found out through an Instagram reel that I missed your birthday!” Oh yes, that, is that really all? I can’t help but laugh at how serious she is. “You didn’t miss it; we did celebrate it.” Her eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?” I love the way her long hair sways to the side when she’s confused.

“Your fashion show, after the shopping trip. It was more than enough of a present for me. Not to mention you got the sunglasses, with our initials on them.” She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“You keep calling me hardheaded, but you can be even more dense than me.” I laugh, she can be so complex. Switching from soft and needing to be held one moment, to sassy and chatty the next. I love every moment.

A hum escapes me, “Aren’t you brave, talking to me like that, cosas dulce?” She ignores my words and carries on. “It doesn’t count as a birthday gift, if I didn’t even know it’s your birthday.” I sigh, seeing now that she’s going to be persistent on this. “That’s why I love it so much. You gave me a gift without even knowing. Call it something poetic, like our souls just knowing, or something simple. Like the kindness you give me that no one else does.”

She pushes out her bottom lips and her eyes go all big again. “Carlos, that’s really beautiful.” She pulls me down by the neck and gives me a kiss on the cheek. Oh, how I cherish those. I remember each and every one. “But, at least allow me to make you dinner tonight.” I don’t want her going through all the trouble, or making too much of a fuss.

“Don’t bother, cosas dulce. There’s no point in celebrating. 34 Years and I spent most of them racing, to no avail. A team that fucks me over, another year with no win and still no championship behind my name. And the rookies are getting younger and younger, and better and better. I’m sure I’ll lose my seat in a year or two and after that, it’s retirement for me.”

I didn’t mean to spill out all my thoughts just like that. But when she looks at me with those eyes, I wan’t to tell her everything.

She cooes and pulls me tight in her arms. “Don’t talk like that. I’m sure you want our kids to see you race at least once.” What? She surprises me again and again. This is good, very good. She’s seeing what I see. Our goals are aligning. Before long I’ll have her all to myself. “You mean it?” Her smile lights up the room and my life.

“Of course, now give me your card. Brutis, Otis and I are going grocery shopping.” That’s my girl. No longer afraid to ask. “You know where it is, cosas dulce.”

I can hear music blasting through the hotel room, along with my girl screaming the lyrics at the top of her lungs, like always. She’s dancing and swaying to the music. Her hips move in ways that entice. But the most attractive thing about her, is that she looks as happy as can be. Pure joy radiates off her like the sun’s rays. Nothing is as beautiful as her delight and I just need to be a part of it.

I scoop her up in my arms and place her on the first open space on the counter. She breaks out in giggles, “Aren’t I glad you’re feeling better,” she mutters between laughs as I make marks all over her neck and shoulders.

“How can I not with such a beauty in my arms?” She blushes and still giggles as my scruff tickles her. But soon she gently pushes me away, not far, by the chest. Her hands there is like fuel to my engine. Sparking my whole body to keep her here, trapped.

“You’re just in time,” she smiles jumping off and plating the food she had made. “I made Fideuà.” At just the mention, memories of my childhood come rushing back. Big Christmas family dinners, with lots of people. Kids running around, screaming with delight, as people laugh and drink lots of wine. “Ah, mi amor, now you are bringing back some good memories, no?”

Y/N’s smile is big as she hands me the plate and pours some white wine. The first bite is perfect, the taste of fish explodes in my mouth. After it’s the texture of the pasta and the hint of Saffron.

“Wow, I must say, mi amor, this is as good as Mama’s.” This makes her smile as wide as ever. “Really, you mean it? You’re not lying?” There are some slight differences, but it’s incredibly hard to notice. I shake my head no.

“It’s almost identical.” She blooms with joy and her cheeks are just so faintly red. “Caco sent me the recipe from your mom.” I should have known. “My, my, already in kahoots with my family.” I pull her into my lap as we both enjoy our dinners. “Speaking of, mi amor, I want you to meet my family. And I know you still feel unsure about moving in with me. But if you meet my parents and see the city...”

Her gaze is stuck on her dinner as she just moves the shrimp around. “I’ll meet your parents, but I won’t promise you anything.” That’s good enough. That’s more than good enough.

Xxxx

There is a blazing heat through the paddock. Everyone is sweating and I can only imagine Carlos must be so uncomfortable in his racing suit. Boiling hot, you can see his hair is sweating but you know he won’t wear his headband in public.

It’s a maybe five minutes until they play the national anthem. Yet still through the flurry of everything and everyone he still makes his way towards where you stand with Caco in the garage.

He hands you his drink, with the weird tube and everything, clearly given to him by Rupert. “Here, it’s very hot, remember to drink a lot of water.” You sigh and take him by the race suit.

“Carlos. Your race starts in twenty mintues, you shouldn’t be bothering yourself with me.” He clicks his tongue. “Siempre tan testarudo,” you sigh, you’ve googled it before and he says it so much that you know he’s calling you hardheaded.

“Carlos!” The people call out his name, they could get a penatly if he misses the song. “I’m coming! Caco, asegúrate de que bebe mucha agua.” He speaks to his cousin, who agrees. He goes to leave but you grab him by his suit and pull him back. His lips fit perfectly onto yours. He pulls you close by the waist, his other hand rake deep into your hair.

He kisses you back with such passion. Like a fire lighting between you two. Your soul finally finds rest. You’ve been wanting this for weeks and now you’re finally taking it for yourself. And you can tell by the way he holds you and pulls you closer that this is what he’s wanted. He’s been yearning for it just as much as you have.

Finally, when there is no air left in your lungs you’re forced to break apart. “I’ll move in with you.” His whole body comes alive with joy. “Really?” His smile is wider than I’ve ever seen before. “Yes really, now go before Ferrari fine me themselves!”

Hollywood Life

“Y/N Y/S/N’s content quality and quality raises, could she have gotten herself a full PR team?”

Glamour

“Fans are going crazy as the boost in Y/N Y/S/N’s conent shows new insight on her and her boyfriend Carlos Sainz’s life that’s never been seen before.”

Page Six

“Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend seem to be attached at the hip.”

Us Weekly

“People are freaking out over Carlos Sainz’s post race interview: ‘The first non-Red Bull win of the season. What would you like to say?’ ‘I’d like to thank my girlfriend. She’s the reason for this trophy. I know I should be thanking the team, but I know they’d much rather have Charles win this. So, this is for her.’

E!News

“Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend seen celebrating in a club with Lando Norris as the DJ.”

People Magazine

“Fans are swooning after a video of Carlos Sainz winking to his girlfriend on the first place podium surfaces.”

My taglist is open, just ask! :)

#Fast Pace #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x sugar baby!reader #sugar daddy!carlos sainz #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 #f 1 x reader

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scarletwritesshit · 6 months ago

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💊 Kotone Shiomi x Shinjiro Aragaki 💊 Pain In My (Our) Ass

It felt a little lonely waiting for those gutter rats to drop by. Shinjiro wouldn’t admit that in a million years, however. The alley cats were always oh-so-tempting to befriend, but he couldn’t let them catch him in such a position. Not like they would really do anything, but it was more because he had no interest in becoming more of a laughing stock to them than he already is.

Shinjiro crossed his legs, stuffed his hands into his coat pockets, and huffed. They’ll show up whenever they felt like it, so no use holding them to any timely expectations.

He heard footsteps approaching, but not from the usual direction. It was probably just some punk ass passersby, he thought. He paid no mind as he continued waiting for those rats to show up.

Unfortunately, the source of the sound wasn’t from just any "passerby." It was worse. Way worse.

It was from one of his own teammates. His leader, in fact.

"There you are, Shinji!" Kotone shouted. "This is where you’ve been hiding?"

"You were looking for me?" he asked.

"Of course! You have a tendency to disappear on some nights without telling anyone where you’re heading."

"You of all people should know that I can hold my own."

"Sometimes, I doubt that," Kotone said, inviting herself to sit directly next to Shinjiro.

Shinjiro grumbled and crossed his arms, yet did not shoo Kotone away. This was the company he was secretly desired; it would be nonsensical to push her away now. It was unfortunate that she would find out about the source of his suppressants in such a way, but it wasn’t like she was unfamiliar with their existence. He used them on Chidori once prior, so the cat was well out of the bag at this point.

"Doubt that? I’ve made it this long on my own… a little late-night walk before the Dark Hour never hurt nobody."

"Alone with the exception of those," Kotone said, nudging the coat pocket in which Shinjiro kept his suppressants.

"Tch. It’s for our own good. Trust me."

"What do mean by our own good? Don’t those things slowly kill you?"

"Why do you care so much?"

"I’d hate to see you, or any of my friends, die prematurely."

"Trust me. You won’t be missing much with me gone."

"I’ll miss you, which I think that’s a lot."

"…Idiot," he said, completely caught off guard.

Shinjiro looked away, a bit embarrassed at how much Kotone seemed to care for him. Rather than be offended, Kotone smiled and gave him a loving pat on the arm. She leaned close against him, practically gluing herself to his side so Shinjiro couldn’t even force her away if he tried. He did not protest one bit, in fact, he had no intentions of resisting. His main focus was attempting to keep his cool around her, so much so that his original reasoning for waiting in the alleyway had slipped his mind.

Unfortunately, he was reminded of his mission a bit too late once he heard a pair of footsteps approaching his location. Shinjiro was snapped back to reality by the sight of Takaya and Jin staring him down, only this time, they appeared thoroughly amused rather than starving for payment. Shinjiro was praying that, at the very least, they would take a rain check for their collection of intel. Kotone was the last person that he wanted to find out about their questionable exchanges.

"Was that a smile I saw ya holdin’ back?" Jin teased.

"...Hurry up and hand em’ over. I ain’t interested in playing your games," Shinjiro said.

"Winning over the heart of your leader so that she would allow a deranged mutt like you to stay. How clever…pitiful, even." Tayaka teased.

"I don’t have time for this,” Shinjiro said, attempting to shoo them away as fast as possible.

Get the suppressants and quickly clear the air with Kotone before Strega lands him in deep trouble with the entirety of S.E.E.S. That became his top priority. Not to mention, he was concerned about Kotone deciding to take a literal stab at them herself, though understandable as to why she would, he had no other means of acquiring the suppressants. Losing their lives could lead to countless more murdered if Castor rampages without a means of subduing him.

Kotone blinked at them with curiosity, rather than blatant hatred. Odd. He would’ve thought that she saw them as cold-blooded enemies to be struck down on sight. Perhaps keeping Chidori under their care had altered her perception of Strega as a whole.

Perhaps she was simply too kind. A kindhearted soul who cared even for someone like himself. Bastard. Shinjiro had to shake off these thoughts immediately. He couldn’t allow his weakness to seep through. Especially not in front of Strega.

"Why, got a hot date with your leader?" Jin sneered.

"Just give me the damn suppressants."

Jin and Takaya exchanged glances, as if they were attempting to silently communicate their next move while within the presence of the S.E.E.S. leader. The two of them exchanged clueless shrugs but not a single word of discussion. Then, Jin tossed the suppressants to Shinjiro.

"You owe me," Jin barked.

"Figured as much," Shinjiro said, catching the pill bottle.

Without another word spoken to him and Kotone, Jin and Takaya turned around to walk back the way they came. Takaya was highly uninterested in what was brewing between those two, but Jin was plagued with lingering curiosity.

"...Ya really think those two got something going on?" Jin asked.

"I could care less. Doesn’t change how they still attempt to stand in our way… though perhaps, this means I could eliminate two targets in one fell swoop." Takaya said.

"If those two are always gonna be together, it’s goin’ to be a bit harder to weasel intel outta Shinjiro. Plus, ya can’t target one without pissin’ off the other.”

“Which is why I specifically said for us to target both, Jin.”

Jin went silent, taking a moment to think. It would be nice to take out two high priority members of S.E.E.S., but that could ultimately give them a disadvantage considering how aggressive the retaliation from the surviving members would be. Though, they would no longer be of use to them if they were exchanging valuable suppressants for literally nothing.

Losing a source of intel compared to losing their lives before Jin and Takaya could fully serve their purpose. Jin knew the obvious route to take in this dilemma. He looked back at Shinjiro and Kotone briefly to see them staying put, apparently rather invested in their conversation. They didn’t even seem to notice (or care) that Jin and Takaya were still well within their range of attack. That only further solidified Jin’s stance of withholding offensive measures.

"Takaya, I think we’ll be more than fine leavin’ em’ be," he said, rolling his eyes.

#persona 3 femc #persona 3 #p3 #kotone shiomi #shinjiro aragaki #foolmoon #shinjiham #fanfic #fanfiction

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porchlightfairy · 2 years ago

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Shoot for the Moon part 1

part 1 | part 2

rockstar!eddie x reader

summary: Eddie returns home under particular circumstances.

warnings: major character death. cancer mention

wc: 1.4k+

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You and Eddie were high school sweethearts. The true definition of forever. Everyone thought you two were soulmates. You supported Eddie through his music and he was so happy to start a family with you. You guys had gotten married young and you were ready to settle down and start a family.

But at the same time Eddie’s music career was moving rather quickly. You had discussed that if anything major were to happen you would stick together through it all. But that changed once Eddie was given the chance to perform to music producers. It seemed like everything you built in your lives came crumbling down. It had been several weeks since you and Eddie had seen each other. It was like you were playing chase on the telephone not being able to get ahold of one another long enough.

Eddie sat at the payphone in the venue praying that you would pick up. He was in California while you were probably in bed in Indiana. After the second to last ring, he hears the line pick up, “Hello?” You mumble.

“Hey baby! I know it’s late but I let the week slip by and I forgot to call you earlier. There’s just been a lot going on—”

“Eddie, it’s 2 in the morning. You thought now was a good time to call?” You sigh

“I know, I know, I’m really sorry. A lot has been going on, I’m sorry.”

“It seems like you can’t answer the phone when you tell me when to call but now is a good time for you. Whatever it is, I am sure it can wait.” You grumble, “Eddie, I’m tired and I don’t want to deal with this, I’ve got errands to run in the morning. Call me at a reasonable hour?”

“Wait, baby, let me just tell you—” The line goes dead. Eddie hangs up the phone. He wouldn’t be able to call you back. You never seemed to be around to answer his calls. And his uncle claimed to not see you around either. You had drifted too far apart for him to even talk to you.

Years had passed and Eddie was on the up and up with his band Corroded Coffin. They were on the cover of Rolling Stones, reached the top 100 of Billboard, and accumulated millions through album sales and concert ticket sales.

Being the frontman of the group came with its perks as well. He was everyone’s favorite and had a tendency to be abrasive. Chicks on his arm every night, signing boobs, and just being all around vulgar. And even as the group got older they were still the same. However, as things start to slow down for their music careers, Eddie is going to get some terrible news.

He wakes up in a plush bed tangled in sheets and limbs, he slips out of bed and heads downstairs for some breakfast. When he reaches the bottom step he sees his manager and the rest of the band sitting in his living room with sullen faces. “Jesus, who crapped in your guys’ captain crunch.”

“Eddie,” His manager, Bobby, sighs.

He laughs at his own joke not hearing his manager speak before heading into the kitchen to get something to eat. “Well, since you guys are here, we should talk about the next album, sounds good?”

“Eddie.” He says again.

“Look, I know what you’re going to say. We should be keeping up appearances for right now but I was kinda hoping for a rebrand of some sort, like a new paint job or—”

“Eddie!” Bobby shouts. Eddie stops in his tracks, “Just stop for a minute okay. We need to talk.”

“About what?” He scoffs, “Why do you all look like someone died?”

“Because,” Bobby sighs again, “Your ex-wife, Eddie, she passed away.”

Eddie’s heart sinks into his stomach and his ears begin to burn red hot. He couldn’t be hearing that right. You were dead. Gone. No longer living, existing anymore? He swallows hard and blinks a few times, “What… uh… what happened? What happened to her?”

“Cervical cancer.” Bobby looks to the floor. “It was unexpected, her lawyer contacted me and it appeared unexpectedly….”

He can’t hear anymore. He recalls the last time he saw you, in the courthouse for your divorce. You both sat in silence as you negotiated with each other the circumstances, alimony and the like. You didn’t want any of his new money, you just wanted the marriage to be nullified.

He sits on a stool and lets out a shaky breath. “Eddie? Eddie? Did you hear me?”

“Huh?” His face had gone pale, “What… what’d you say?”

“You should take some time, go back home, and go to the burial.” Bobby says. “I know your head is probably swimming right now so we’re going to go but please Eddie, don’t stay here in darkness, okay?”

Each of his bandmates give him a pat on the shoulder and a hug for comfort before taking their leave. Eddie throws out the people in his bed and he slowly begins to pack. With a shaky hand he dials his uncle’s number. He holds his breath as he waits for an answer. He felt ashamed that this was the only time that he had actively sought out for his uncle. Now that you are dead.

“Hello?” He hears the familiar grovel of Wayne’s voice on the line.

“Hey, Wayne. It’s been, it’s been a long time huh?” Eddie hears the quiver in his own voice.

There’s silence on the other end, “So you heard.”

“Y-yeah,” He clears his throat, “I’m packing now to come home. I know, its fucked up of me but I just I need to.”

“I understand, son. I’ll be waiting for ya.” He says.

And with that, the call ends and Eddie sits in silence as he prepares himself to go back home. The musician gets a red eye flight to Indianapolis where he would take a greyhound all the way to his uncle’s house.

Eddie felt his heart sink as he got closer and closer to his destination. He hadn’t visited home since leaving it all behind. The divorce was the last time he set foot in Hawkins. Packing his stuff in a moving van and never seeing you again. His heart twangs as he thinks about it.

Soon he arrives at his uncle’s hand and sees the man waiting outside for him. “Eddie,” He stands up as Eddie approaches. They hug in a familiar embrace, then Wayne packs her back. “You look good.”

Eddie lets out a soft chuckle, “Heh, not like you don’t see me on the tv all the time.”

“Mmh, good to see you in person.” He holds the younger man’s face in his hands. His eyes were saddened. “Eddie, I’ve got to tell you something important.” He holds Eddie’s shoulder as he walks they walk into the house.

Instantly, Eddie is hit with a sudden warmth from the house. It felt lived in. He walks further into the house when he notices several frames in the living room. “Eddie, listen, a lot has happened since you’ve been gone. And she really didn’t want to say anything about it because…” Wayne watches as Eddie steps closer to the frames. He has trouble forming the words as Eddie looks at the pictures on the wall.

Eddie stares intensely at the images. There was you smiling with a black and white ultrasound photo in your hand. Next to that was a picture of you and Wayne, he had his hand on your stomach and you had little pink booties in yours. It’s a girl was spelled on a banner above your heads.

Eddie’s ears grew hot as he continued to look at the photos. There was a picture of you in the hospital holding a baby in your arms, tears in your eyes. Then a first birthday, then a second, third and so on. This little girl is at the center of them all. She had a beautiful smile like her mom and large brown eyes. Eyes that stared back at him everytime he looked in the mirror.

“She didn’t want to tell you any of this. She thought it was for the best that you didn’t know her.”

Eddie’s lip quivers, his mouth is dry as he stares in disbelief. Just as he is about to speak he hears footsteps traveling down the stairs, “Grandpa have you seen mom’s…” Eddie turns around and sees a young girl standing on the steps. A spitting image of her mother except those eyes, the pools of primordial darkness that stared back at him.

“Are you… Are you my dad?”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie x black!reader

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inshelliesworld · 2 years ago

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Buckle up. This is long.

Last night after dinner w/my fam I watched the SAG awards so I am a little behind on the conversation around the Chris Evans Clown Show Comedy Hour. However I read a couple of asks received by @nancydrewwouldnever about how he’s been looking like the Raggedy Andy version of his normal self these past few months and I couldn’t agree more.

I thought so watching the SMA videos People put out.

Back during my more naïve days, I just thought he was possibly exhausted and that could very well still be true. But after the rabbit hole I’ve been down for the past couple of months, I am of the opinion he's exhausted for a different reason than work requirements. Which is just that – my opinion: observation mixed with speculation.

I don’t think this RS – if it is rooted in PR like I think it is – was ever intended to last this long. From what I have gathered, the Netflix show and movie for which AB would have benefited the most having a lot of attention were originally supposed to both release in the first half of 2022. One or both were delayed, the show being very delayed -from first/second quarter all the way to the last quarter of the year. So not only did she lose out on a bump for the movie, but by the time her show finally launched it pretty much had already been axed by NF. So when Mr. SMA 2022 does the CP Marathon (horribly) with her, the only project she has going on at the time is hanging by a thread.

That's her fault for being lazy and entitled. A million golden opportunities were missed by her/her team, but I feel like Chris wasn’t going to sell anything very well anyway, as he likely was being pissy about this situationshit lasting so long. Which led me to thinking that “laser focus” press question was a plant to tie back to the earlier article BUT made me think it could possibly have been contrived as a way to signify the end of their "RS" had it gone to plan. The question would allow room for him to insinuate he was single again and “focused on finding the right partner” to “pour himself into” bc “awe, shucks, I’m just so unlucky in love…” 💀

BUT THAT CAN’T HAPPEN… he can’t signal the end of something that hasn’t yet been announced. So it looked to the viewer, and especially his fandom, that he was signaling his singlehood – and for his fans, to debunk the rumors flying around about his Lolita. NOW he has to stutter around and trap himself in word prisons and go take a quick pap sprint the same time as SMA announcement bc that’s when the show drops and do more photos and BS to sell the OVER year-long narrative when they were really prepped to do a 9ish-mos storyline. All the OG pics and scares (IMO) that were preemptively shot not only look slightly better but they also would have fit in with starting the RS storyline Fall 2021 and, if nothing would have been delayed, the end falling somewhere Summer 2022.

I think this is why he does such a shit job selling it. He struggles to sell intimacy anyway, but he’s not even giving it the ole college try bc he’s pissed off that it’s taken more time than he expected and dragging his feet. I mean…. All these rumors about the same chick for months HAS to have a negative impact on his harem, right?? 😂 Now she’s pissed that he’s dragging his feet – or maybe she wanted it to turn into more than what it is and he’s noped the fuck out – so she throws a hissy fit with the yoga cert mess, her mom’s pic, and her OF shower pictorial.

It's possible had this not dragged along for this long, all the dirt that has surfaced RE: her and her sOuLMaTes being racist, antisemetic, fat phobic, basically all around horrendous ppl that has TANKED his image and lost him a good portion of his fandom would have maybe not surfaced. The mess would have been announced, been annoying, and been over before anyone cared enough to dig that much - or at least make that big of a deal about it, bc he would have been rid of her. I know that this dumpster fire mimics SS a lot but I think that Chris agreeing to a much shorter version in the beginning is why there are SO MANY pictures all at once. He probs didn't want to do this for the 2 years or whatever that SS committed to.

I think he has thrown his own tantrum of “I ain’t doin this shit anymore” and has left it to someone else to handle which is why he is AWOL from everywhere, including going out to dinner with his friend/castmates, and not doing his own SM anymore (I personally don’t think he’s posting anything at all right now himself). Seems he’s also made sure that he/his team control the mass narrative to the GP.

I think they’re riding this shit show out until the end, letting their teams do whatever they need to do. Even if she has the DESIRE to show up for anything like the Twitter reading (was she even invited? Was she wanted by her castmates/showrunners? Hollywood is show BUSINESS afterall so even if she wasn’t wanted she would be expected to show up to make good on production companies’ investments & save face?) the situations aren’t really going to be great for her. There would be – and SHOULD BE – backlash involving the discriminatory posts, which she obvs has no intentions of denouncing. IMO she should have done it anyway for her fans, but her not doing it goes a long way to prove her entitlement, lazy ass attitude, and ungratefulness. But from the looks of those Star Power reports from IMDB that someone shared, it’s not her that’s hurting… it’s HIM. 🤡

He’s suffering greatly, which is also deserved, and he very likely knows it. It has taken a noticeable toll on his looks, his presence, his gait, and his energy. He looks like a shell of his former self bc he is. And he’s seemingly off licking his wounds until he can start his Chris Evans Redemption Tour.

I would like to put it out into the universe that my birthday is next month and it falls within their usual “drop” timeframe so it would be a fantastic birthday gift if March’s bomb was the BUA.

#Chris Evans #PR #shit show #birthday wish #Pisces season #please end the misery

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ravelights · 3 months ago

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So finally read the final chapter of MHA so here are some of my thoughts on it.

Although I saw it coming it broke my heart when deku lost OFA, I was hanging on to the idea that he could get something back. However like I said a million times I still think it good writing, especially how it was handled in the end. I was almost going to think this would be an bittersweet ending for izuku just becoming a just a teacher and never getting his hero dream (an ending I wouldn’t have liked) but then All might swooping in and giving izuku an iron might suit just saved me from thinking this literally I think hori plan on that as well. There could have also been a slight hint I that OFA might not be fully gone since we saw the figure of tenko at the end but that’s up in the air.

I was right about the time skip, eight years. I also expected that as deku was narrating it from the future. I’m not the biggest fan of timeskip but that’s just a personal preference I didn’t mind it too much and I like that we finally got the adult designs and of course deku is exactly the same just taller.

I like the theme it sold on the end of being a good person doesn’t mean being the strongest, but just helping out when you can and doing what you love. I believe that is a core theme and I’m glad hori stuck with it to the end.

Now when it comes to the future of MHA I still think we will be getting a continuation at some point. But that’s far in the future and I also think it more likely we will get a prequel more than anything else. The lore of MHA and many characters goes deep and there’s a huge untapped potential to write something there. But like I said should that happen I believe we will have to wait a few years till we get something like that.

Finally no hisashi, little surprised we never got him, but I guess that mean no theory was wrong or right in the end. At least for now. I am interested to know what the original plan was for him since he was being kept a secret for a reason for a good while there. But oh well maybe in the possible prequel/sequel we might finally get him.

Overall I didn’t hate the ending it was definitely a bittersweet one but I still like it in the end. For a series that been going on for as long as MHA there were a lot of things to tie up in five chapters, some plot threads got tied up and others didn’t but the ending is just one part of the story and as long as you like the story then it all good.

I’ve been reading MHA since I was in high school the series will always have a place in my heart. it wasn’t my first anime, but it’s definitely the one that stuck with me the longest. It been a heck of a ride, but i will forever be grateful that it got an ending, there are a lot of shows, comics and manga that never get that something Horikoshi experienced in the past. so I alway celebrate when someone does get to finish there story even if it was rushed.

Thank you to everyone who read MHA and like my occasional rambling on it, I still intend to stick around in this fandom until the next muse whisk me away.

And thank you my hero academia you will always be the best!

#bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha spoilers #bnha spoiler

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pjisskullourful · 1 year ago

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ｓｔｒｅｓｓｒｅｌｉｅｖｅｒ

🐾Thomas × reader [The Gift part11]

NSFW🔥smuttastic fuckery, hijinks for adults only

° Thomas Raggi/non-binary reader insert

° its the weekend before university finals & you are panicking, but thomas knows how to calm you down

wordcount::: 4,507

° commissioned by my truly amazing baby nibling jace (@wow-ihateithere)💋 [requests are open! but commissions get priority, secure the 6th spot in my cue here!]

° [ITA:] cucciolo: puppy - caro: dear

“It’s four AM.” Hearing your boyfriend’s voice startled you into looking up from your textbook at once. He was standing in the doorway of the study, his hair messed up from the hours of sleep he had been enjoying. “Don’t you think studying can wait- maybe when it isn’t so late, I mean early?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You mumbled, feeling as if you had been caught doing something embarrassing.

You hadn’t realised how late into the night it had gotten. You had taken yourself out of bed around one o’clock, tired of tossing and turning as your thoughts refused to turn off, or even slow down any. You had known that no distractions would actually succeed in occupying your mind.

So you had turned to the cause of your stress - university. Next week was your final exams for the year and you were feeling wholly unprepared. It was very easy for you to imagine sitting down to take the test only to face a major mental blank. And that daunting glimpse into the future inspired a lot of fear. Fear that couldn’t be easily dismissed, you tried to fight back on it, but the logic that you held was shaky.

‘I’ll feel better once I’ve gone over this concept’, you had thought to yourself as you sat down on the sofa, beginning to read.

After a lot of reading, a new thought had come to you, ‘I need to give this paragraph a re-read, then I can go to bed’. That had prompted you to pick up another textbook in pursuit of a specific page.

And now it was four o’clock?

Thomas stifled a yawn as he came over to you. “I don’t think sitting up, out of bed and reading about sociology is gonna help you fall asleep, baby.”

You sighed. “I know. But with finals so close, it’s like I don’t know how to turn the stress off. And studying helps that.”

“Oh, it helps?” He asked as he stood beside the couch, not sitting down with you. “So you’re saying that it helps you feel better, like less stressed and all that?”

“Something like that.” You replied hesitantly. In your mind, you compared your reason for turning to studying to the instinct of grabbing your elbow after painfully striking it against something solid. Did cradling the injury take the hurting away? No, but it felt better than doing nothing.

He gave you a sceptical look. “Now I’m not about to call you a liar. However, I do know what you look like when you’re not stressed. And what I’m looking at right now is not you stress-free.”

“Well, it’s not-...”

He silenced you by showing you the palm of his hand. “Luckily for you, another thing that I know is how to help you relieve all of that stress. I’m just gonna need you to come with me back to bed.”

You glanced down at the textbook. “I’ve got more than half of this page left to read.”

“I’m sorry, but how long have you been at this?” He asked.

“I don’t know, I guess about three hours.” You said, trying to play it off casually.

It didn’t work and he was making a sarcastic scoffing sound. “Alright, it is definitely time for you to take a study break. Come on, you’re coming to bed.”

“Can’t I just finish this page and meet you in there?” You asked.

“No way. You’ve had three hours to read millions of pages, that’s enough for now. There’s plenty of time for you to come back to this later, much, much later.” He said and he leaned down, securing his hands around your bicep. “Come on, don’t make me get tough with you.”

You chuckled, still remaining seated. “Oh-no, the wrath of puppy. Ooh, I’m so scared. What’s puppy gonna do? Are you gonna bark at me ‘til you get your way? Or maybe you’ll bite my ankles. It’s all really terrifying to imagine.”

He showed a good-natured smile in response to your teasing. “You can joke all you like, but you’re really curious, I can tell.” As he pulled on your arm a little you wondered when he had become an actual expert at reading your body language and other non-verbal cues. “If you’ll just come with me, you can find out exactly what I’m planning.”

You couldn’t help questioning your motives behind why you were resisting so much. You shut the book and moved it off your lap so you could get to your feet. “Okay, puppy gets his way.”

He grinned and let go of your arm so that he could hold your hand instead. “Hell yeah, let’s go.”

It was easy to get caught up in his energy. Maybe you had found a distraction strong enough to get your mind off of tests.

Once inside the bedroom, he turned to face you. He lifted one of his hands up to your face, caressing his fingers across your cheek as he leaned in closer. “I want you to use me.”

You kissed him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I like how that sounds, but could you get a bit more specific?”

“Take all of your stresses and frustrations about finals out on me.” He said, rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip before moving in for more kisses. “Don’t worry about my pleasure, don’t even think about it, not for a second. You can just use me.”

You had started to smile, now holding both arms around him. “I can?”

“Uh-huh, I’m just your dumb little pup, use me like I deserve.” He said.

Your heart was fluttering as you started to kiss him again, your tongue moving forward to run across his lips. He had succeeded in redirecting your thoughts, it was an offer too titillating to refuse and once the door was opened, you had absolutely no interest in shutting it without first investigating. You pushed your tongue into his mouth, rubbing it against his as you happily gave over control to your libido.

Before too long, you were leading him over to the unmade bed. You pushed him onto the mattress with him keeping his eyes on you, keenly awaiting your guidance.

“Tell me again while you’re getting naked.” You said.

He put his hands to the bottom of his oversized shirt, swiftly taking it off. “Use me.” He removed his underwear, allowing you to see how his cock was already getting firm. “Use me.”

You stood in front of him as you took your turn to take off your clothes. You started to unbutton the flannelette pyjama shirt that you had been wearing. He boosted himself up to close some of the distance between the two of you and pressed some kisses to the exposed skin of your neck. Warmth spread through your gut in response and you couldn’t help smiling.

Once your arms were free of the top, you put your hands to his cheeks and used this to redirect him to look up at you. You placed your lips to his, your kisses lingering, and the study felt incredibly far away.

“Do you want me to sit on that pretty face?” You asked.

He twitched, his eagerness too great for him to hide. “Yes.”

You gave him another kiss, unable to keep yourself from indulging in those lips some more. “How about you lay down and get comfortable for me?”

He moved back, scooting away from the end of the bed. He reclined, flat on his back, with his head resting upon a pillow. You eyed the way his cock stood at attention as you pushed your underwear down.

You stepped out of the underwear and approached your side of the bed. You climbed on to the mattress and placed yourself on top of him. You supported yourself with a knee on either side of his head. He was looking up at you with wide eyes, taking in as much of this sight as was possible.

You further braced yourself by grabbing for the headboard. Once you felt confident that you would be able to maintain your balance, you started to lower yourself. You saw his eyes fix on your pussy as you got it closer to his face and you could only guess at what he was planning for you.

He lifted his head, making contact with your pussy with a tender kiss to your labia. His lips cradled one side, leaving behind an invisible print of saliva when he switched to the other. You shut your eyes, concentrating on the feeling of blood rushing into your cunt, bringing even more heat.

Your pussy lips were already parting for him, without a conscious effort from you. He inhaled your scent as he continued to give your pussy kisses, giving you time to sink into this moment. You were blissfully letting everything else go.

Once he had thoroughly warmed your labia majora with his lips, he then set his tongue upon them. Long strokes up each side allowed him to taste more of you, while you were grateful to feel more pressure in this area.

He didn’t just glide his tongue up-and-down, he was angling his head so that his licks could move inwards. His tongue discovered the skin that was getting wet by your own anticipation, lapping at the moisture here.

You felt a shiver rush through you when he brought the tip of his tongue to your labia minora. He used the tip of his tongue to slowly explore you here, following the natural contours of your pussy. He licked around your entrance, dedicating so much time to this that you thought he might be trying to commit the shape to memory, for some purpose that would be revealed later. You savoured the feeling of his concentration to this area, with it allowing you to shrink your consciousness down, your desires ready to run the show.

“Oh, cucciolo…” You said in a shattered breath when his tongue began to search inside of you finally.

His tongue extended into your pussy and you felt yourself tense up a little, yearning to explore that next level of pleasure. He wrapped a hand around your thigh, gripping you here as his tongue worked tirelessly at your inner-walls.

He was making you feel so good, tingles spreading through your body as you looked over your shoulder to check on him. It appeared that he was also feeling so good, with the tip of his dick still pointing directly at the ceiling. You made a mental note of this, letting it add to your surging arousal.

Your jaw fell slack, a surprised moan swelling up when he rapidly flitted his tongue up-and-down repeatedly. Your hand grabbed to the headboard tighter as you keenly wiggled your hips. This had the potential to start a fire in you.

Before you could start to adjust to this sensation, he was withdrawing his tongue altogether. This granted you the chance to catch your breath, gathering yourself so you could make it through more of his teasing. He didn’t move too far away, the heat from his face still present on your skin.

Your heart leapt when you felt his tongue again, this time it was flicking against the hood of your clit. At once you were thrilled by this.

You got the idea of further exploring this lust by sharing it, and you started to reach behind yourself. He was still lavishing your clit with attention as you extended your hand to his cock. You wrapped your fingers around his shaft and clumsily began to jerk, trying to find the best way to stroke him.

Before you could set into any kind of rhythm, he was taking his mouth off of you so he could speak. “Babe, what… you don’t have to do that.” He put a hand to your wrist, seemingly ready to physically stop you.

“I know that I don’t have to, but I wanna.” You said.

“Shh, you should stop.” He said and you could hear a slight waver in his voice as he probably fought against his own impulses. “It isn’t about me right now and that’s the way I want it.”

“But you’re hard.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

You looked down at his face, finding him wearing an earnest expression. “But I want you to enjoy this too.”

He caressed your thigh. “That’s sweet and I am enjoying myself, honestly. Please don’t under-estimate how much pleasure I get from giving you pleasure. Yeah, an orgasm would be really nice right now. But more than that, more than anything I just want to please my dom. Let me make it all about you and your pleasure, please?”

“Okay.” You said, giving his hair a pat because you were as enamoured with his submission now as you had been upon him first giving it to you. You couldn’t disagree with him at this moment.

“If it’s something that you really wanna explore, don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll still be hard later.” He said.

You laughed. “Yeah, there’s never a shortage of boners with my puppy.”

He let this discussion come to an end, his tongue returning to your clitoris. He swirled his tongue around the tight bundle of nerves until you were ditching your earlier plan altogether, taking your hand far from his dick. Your eyes fluttered shut as you went with his suggestion to not dedicate any thoughts to him - you made your desires your only concern.

As his tongue continued to work over your clit, you felt the tip of one of his fingers slowly pushing inside of you. He guided the digit between your walls, making you feel his treatment of his clit even more. You gave a little whimper as he moved in deeper, you were excited to start feeling full.

He soon had a second finger disappearing into you. The electricity rushing your system became too much for you to simply be still any longer and you fed the lust by grinding into his face. You tensed your thighs, delving deeper into the stimulations with every swing of your hips.

He worked his fingers in time with you, setting into the tempo that you were establishing. You were serving the need that burned inside of you, more-and-more of your body responding to him.

You started to get fixed on the feeling of your incoming orgasm, wanting to fall apart at the very core of your being. Amongst many other things, you were craving greater friction. You put your hand into his hair, grabbing a handful as you bucked your hips faster. His tongue rubbing at your clit was enticing endless pleasure into you, it had you obsessed.

“Fuck, cucciolo…” You moaned as you grinded harder into him.

He kept up with you, not giving you a single second to recover. His consistency was exactly what you needed, rewarding every movement as you made it.

You rutted against him a few more times, keeping your momentum as your legs felt like they were turning into jelly. But the wave of pleasure was overcoming you, making you weak as the orgasm started to dawn. You lost your pacing, just squirming your way through the mighty peak.

You shook and gasped for air on top of him as he retracted his fingers, giving you the chance to come to terms with the height that you had just reached. He leaned back from your cunt and your hand gripping his hair steadily released.

You were still feeling dazzling tingles as you moved off of him, all but collapsing onto the bed next to him. With no more tension in your body, you easily got comfortable.

He curled up at your side. “Can I have a kiss? I know that I’ve got a bad case of pussy breath right now, but can I still get one kiss?”

You opened your eyes to look at him, instantly seeing how keen he was - wide awake, his eagerness was untouched by fatigue. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, bringing him in closer. “Yes, of course you get kisses now.” You peppered some quick kisses upon his lips. “You did so good.”

You placed your lips on his, kissing him properly as you continued to feel the effects of your afterglow. You twirled some of his hair around your finger as you deepened the kiss. You tasted your own excitement on his lips, a testament to how hard he had worked.

“Really?” He asked of you.

“What are you talking about, really? Yes, you did great and you know you did. Unless you somehow blacked out and missed that orgasm.” You said.

“No, I know that you came, that part was fuckin’ awesome.” He said. “But I feel like I’m still detecting some stress in you…”

“Is that so?” You asked, curious to see what he was leading to.

“Yeah.” He asserted. “And I would feel bad if I didn’t properly help you relieve that, ‘cause I said I would and I’m a pup of my word.”

“Well I’d hate to make a liar out of you.” You said.

He began kissing you again and this made it clear that he wasn’t just playing around with being flirty and cutesy, he hadn’t made his statements lightly. And now he was going to share his intentions.

You thought that this was the point when he stopped revolving everything around you, he must be ready to bring his cock back to your attention. You predicted him offering to fuck the stress out of you and you would say yes to it, happy to get off with him.

But he seemed to think that you needed more warming up, moving his hand down to your cunt. His fingers moved along your cunt, which was still buzzing with the sensitivities provoked by your climax.

You expected him to move away (he would need to leave your side to get a condom). But as he looked into your eyes, he only came closer, letting one of his fingers work your pussy open. You parted your legs further for him, feeling what had been your dwindling afterglow translating into aftershocks. Your heart rate increased as he discovered just how wet you still were.

You felt like you could melt just from his gaze, so you shut your eyes and initiated another kiss. You wanted to give him something that he could properly enjoy, something that could fill him with more of that vicarious pleasure he had spoken of so highly.

As you were kissing, his second finger disappeared into you. Your sensitive walls clenched to the touch, ready for more attention. He easily found a tempo to work you over at and you held him closer, feeling that pleasure swell up again. His tongue glided between your lips, welcomed into your mouth with a whine from you.

You chased one sensation after another, climbing back up to the peak. He kissed you through your shivers and moans, unrelenting in his goal of drawing another orgasm out of you.

You arched your back, pushing your body more determinedly into him when he curled his fingers up and into your sweet spot. You felt how easy it would be to unravel as he pumped his fingers, colliding with your soft wall repeatedly. The stimulations were making your toes curl, begging you to abandon the few scraps of composure that you had left.

It didn’t take much for this to reach the threshold of what you could take. Thanks to his consistent massage, you were soon feeling the orgasm explode into you. You broke the kiss as you soared into the climax.

You were still greedily gasping for air by the time his fingers were pulled free of your sensitive cunt. Thoroughly weakened by the second climax, you leaned into him for support. You buried your head into the warmth of his chest and let yourself partially drift away. If he asked whether or not you were still feeling stressed, you would have to admit that your mind was feeling so blank that you weren’t confident in how to spell the word stress.

You became aware of the hair on top of your head shifting, then you heard the noises of him kissing you here. At the same time you were feeling his fingers stroking up-and-down your back. You didn’t think it would take much for you to fall asleep, catching up on what you had missed out on.

“Are you feeling better, babe?” He asked.

You smiled as you lifted your head, looking up at him. “Calling how I’m feeling ‘better’ would be a hideous understatement.”

“My bad.” He said. You could see the shy smile beginning on his lips as he found a way to move in closer. “Is it okay if I-... can I-... you can tell me exactly what to do, what not to do, but can I get off now?”

“Oh yes, cucciolo.” You said, giving him a kiss. “You have definitely earned yourself an orgasm.”

“How do you want me to do it?” He asked.

You licked your lips as you pondered the possibilities. You were thinking about what would turn you on the most, what you could commit to memory to get worked up over when without him.

“You can just jerk it for me.” You said - it wasn’t a request.

“Okay.”

His cock was hard and awaited some attention. He didn’t take his eyes off of your face as he wrapped his fingers around the shaft, about halfway down. He stroked upwards, wet sounds accompanying the movement of his fingers over the head. Then he glided his hand all the way down, reaching to the base. You got an insight into how sensitive he was when you saw his body briefly overrun with shaking.

You curled some of his long hair behind his ear. “You just do it however you want, caro. You don’t have to worry about me telling you that you’re doing it too fast or not right. You don’t have to worry about anything, you can concentrate on making you feel good after you made me feel so fucking good.”

“Thank you.” He said.

“Aw, you’re welcome.” You said, his obedience adding to the pleasure that you got from viewing this.

Before you could lean in and start kissing him, he raised his unoccupied hand up to his mouth. His lips parted so that he could place two fingers inside. Your heartbeat increased when you realised these were the fingers that had been in your cunt. You saw his cheeks suck in as he thoroughly sought out the cum that still coated these digits.

He seemed to suck on them harder as he picked up the pace on his dick. You applied your trimmed fingernails to his scalp, gently raking across the skin. His eyes began to flutter shut, with him fighting against this to keep watching you.

He writhed forward, his chest rapidly rising-and-falling as the intensity increased for him. You were right there with him, still basking in your afterglow. Your eyes darted from his face to his dick and back again, not wanting to miss a thing. You studied his face and guessed how close he was. You watched his strokes and remembered riding him.

A powerful twitch temporarily gripped him and his wet fingers slipped out of his mouth. His mouth just hung open, if not for how much he was struggling to catch his breath, you would have given him so many kisses. But you resigned yourself to lightly scratching his head as you enjoyed this continuing erotic display.

Finally he lost the battle, his eyelids shutting as he surrendered more of his control to the desire. His hips thrusted in a half-tempo, not trying to match the persistence of his hand, but clearly needing to exorcise some of the feral energy coursing through him.

“Oh, oh…” He panted out.

You were admiring the pretty sheen of the light catching on the cum beading up on his tip. Then you looked up to appreciate all of the colour that had rushed into his gorgeous face. He looked so good, and at the same time, making sure you were still feeling close to those memories of your own climax.

His mouth somehow fell even further open as he began to buck with reckless abandon. You watched how fast his hand was working on his shaft, it was almost a blur in its impassioned stroking.

From deep in his throat, a whimper began, the only way to express the ecstasy he was tapping into. He keeled forward, almost bumping you as he curled himself up for the conclusion. You held your breath, on the edge of your metaphorical seat. His whimper had developed into a cry and your thighs were clenching in your anticipation.

“Fuck!” He half-shouted it.

Then, with one final snap from his hips, he hit the precipice. In front of you he came undone, everything coming to its grand finale.

He took his hand off of his dick and he was unsuccessfully trying to catch his breath as he slowly raised his head to look at you. His wide eyes met yours and you felt an unimportant flutter in your cunt. Your chest swelled with both pride and arousal.

As he was coming back into himself, you swooped in, covering his mouth in enthusiastic kisses. He reciprocated as he placed his hands on you, trying to ground himself.

“I love you.” He breathed.

“Oh, I love you too, caro.” You said, holding his hot face in your hands. “You have no idea how sexy that was.”

Something of a smug smile appeared on his face. “And how’s your stress-levels?”

In the rush of so many positive emotions, you started to laugh. “So low, so, so low that even Flo Rida would be proud.” You said, making him laugh too.

“See, I told you that I knew how to take care of your stress.” He said.

You smiled, not bothered by his bragging. You began using your fingers to create invisible patterns on his smooth chest. “Yeah, because you’re not just sexy, you’re also the smartest puppy.”

“No, you’re the smart one of the two of us.” He said and he picked up one of your hands, looking into your eyes as he kissed your palm. “I hope you know on some level that you have nothing to worry about. Truly, those finals should be worried because you’re gonna kill them, absolutely kill ‘em. You’re a genius.”

You felt a blush rising in your cheeks. “I don’t know about that.”

“Well I do.” He insisted. “This isn’t the first time you’ve taken finals and you’re gonna make it again this time. You’ve got this, you know you do.”

"Thank you, babe."

Maybe it was his reassuring words, or maybe it was the exhaustion taking over - either way, sleep came before the stress and panic had a chance to come back.

»»————-　♡　————-««

🍑taglist: @gr8rainbowpunk - @idyllicbutterfly - @maneskindiva - @maneslut - @saschenkaaa - @slavicgoddess13 - @elvirabelle - @maneskintifoso - @thegeminisgirl - @ha-la-ansia - @butkutee - @ursulalurks - @itsmaneskinbitch - @icarodamiano - @crwnnjules - @paralianeyes - @fand0mskullfa1ry - @lizzylynch1 - @kammerstx - @myleftsock - @tellmesomething01 - @adoredamianos - @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic - @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis - @shinshans - @lonnybunnys [join here!]

#maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin smut #maneskin fic #manesmut #thomas x you #thomas x reader #thomas raggi fic #thomas raggi x y/n

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sfb123 · 2 years ago

Text

I Know Places (Happy Birthday Burns!)

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x Riley, Drake x Alyssa

All characters belong to Pixelberry, except for Alyssa Devereaux, who belongs to the birthday girl @burnsoslow

Summary: In a prequel to last year's birthday fic, Riley notices some odd behavior from Drake and is determined to find out what he is hiding.

Song: I Know Places - Taylor Swift

You are the only person on the planet who could get me to drop a Taylor Swift song anywhere. That's how much I love you.

Rating: PG (a couple of swear words)

Word Count: 2,703

A/N: Happy birthday to my wonderful friend @burnsoslow. You are so sweet, and funny, and thoughtful. When I came to Tumblr however long ago, and started obsessively reading your stories, I never, in a million years, thought that I would actually be lucky enough to call you my friend. I'm sitting here trying to put together words about how much having you in my life means to me, but I'm not sure they even exist. I just love you so so much, and hope that you spent today partying like it's 1999! 😘

A/N 2: No pre-reader, so you get what you get. If it sucks, and the grammar is terrible, that's all on me. Godspeed.

Tags: This is my first run with the new tag list, so if you're not on here but would like to be added, just let me know!

Liam and Riley sat on the couch in his office, reviewing their opening remarks for the Five Kingdoms Festival that would be happening the following day. A knock on the door pulled their attention away, Liam called for the visitor to come in.

“Well, well, well,” Riley said as Drake entered the room. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

Drake rolled his eyes and approached the pair. “Hello Brooks.” He walked over to Liam, who was now standing. “Hey, Li.”

“Drake,” Liam shook his friend’s hand. “It has been a while.”

“Yeah,” Drake rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been pretty busy lately.”

“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” Riley suggested, noticing that something was off with him. “Eleanor has been asking for you, she misses her Uncle Drake.”

Drake’s expression softened. He hadn’t been spending as much time with Eleanor as he usually would. She had just become a big sister, and he knew how hard it could be going from being an only child to having to share attention with a younger sibling.

“I really wish I could…” He trailed off, his eyes darting between his friends. “I promised Savannah I’d go up to Ramsford tonight. But I’ll be at the festival tomorrow. I’ll take Eleanor for some cotton candy or something.”

“Sure, she’d love that.” Riley agreed.

Drake said his goodbyes and exited the office. Once he was gone, Liam and Riley settled themselves back on the couch, Liam lifted his wife’s legs to rest across his lap.

“That was weird, right?” Riley asked.

“Not really,” Liam shrugged as he slipped off her shoes and began rubbing her feet. “Drake and his sister are close, of course he would want to have dinner with her.”

Riley sighed at her husband’s response. “You know, for someone who was trained to read people, you can be awfully thick sometimes.”

Liam’s movements stopped as his head snapped in her direction. “Excuse me?”

“Come on Liam, he was being so dodgy! He couldn’t give us a straight answer about where he’s been.”

“To be fair,” Liam began. “We never asked him for one. Besides, Drake has always been a pretty private person, if he wanted us to know, he would have told us.”

She returned her feet to the ground, retrieving her shoes and putting them on. “Ugh! You’re so bad at being nosy!” She groaned. “Let’s go, I miss our babies.”

Regina had offered to watch Eleanor, and the newest edition to the royal family, Prince David, while Liam and Riley worked on the final preparations for the festival. They left Liam’s office and met up with Regina to pick up the kids before returning to their quarters for the evening.

***

After dinner, and a few rounds of Candy Land, it was time for Eleanor to go to bed. In an effort to help her with the transition from only child to big sister, her parents decided to take turns putting her to bed each night ensuring she had some quality one-on-one time with each of them. It was Liam’s turn to tuck her in, so Eleanor said goodnight to her mother and brother and walked hand in hand with her father to her room.

Liam sat on Eleanor’s bed, his arm wrapped around her, holding a book in front of them. Eleanor was learning how to read, so as they made their way through the story, Liam would pause, pressing his finger against the words, encouraging his daughter to read along, and helping her as she went.

“... and they,” he pointed to the next word and nodded encouragingly at her.

“Lived happ… happy…”

“Almost, princess. Happil…”

“Happily!” She exclaimed, Liam chuckled at her excitement and kissed the side of her head. “Happily ever after!”

“That’s right! Good work, Eleanor!” Liam pulled her close, kissing the top of her head before closing the book and carrying it to the bookshelf. “Now, I believe we have one more item of business,” he made his way to the collection of stuffed animals that were gathered in the corner of her room. “Who would you like to keep you company tonight?”

Eleanor’s eyes traveled through the crowd, her index finger tapping against her lips as she contemplated her selection. Her movements halted, and her smile grew upon making her decision, “Hunny Bunny please.”

“Excellent choice.” Liam turned to the pile searching for the golden rabbit. He moved the other animals around, trying to locate it. “Hmm… she doesn’t seem to be here.”

“But where is she, Daddy?” Eleanor looked at her father with tired, sad eyes.

“I’m… well, I’m not sure, princess. Where do you last remember having her?” He made his way around the room, looking anywhere Hunny Bunny could possibly be hiding.

“I… I don’t know.” Eleanor replied through her sniffles. “Daddy, please find her.”

Liam looked up at his daughter, her eyes were beginning to water, and her chin was trembling. He knew between Eleanor being tired, and wanting her toy, a meltdown would be inevitable if they didn’t find this rabbit.

“Oh Eleanor, don’t cry.” He rushed to his daughter’s side. “Why don’t we ask Mommy if she has seen Hunny Bunny?” Eleanor rubbed her eyes as she nodded at her father. He kissed her on the forehead before going to the door. “Riley, love, could you come here for a moment?” He called down the hallway.

Riley entered the room to find Liam consoling a crying Eleanor. “What happened here?” She said as she approached the pair, placing a comforting hand on Eleanor’s back. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“We can’t find Hunny Bunny.” Eleanor cried before falling into her mother’s arms.

Riley looked up at Liam and she could see the worry in his face. “Okay, it’s all okay. Let’s just calm down here. She has to be somewhere, she didn’t get up and hop away.”

“When do you remember seeing her with it last?” Liam asked Riley as she continued to console her daughter.

She racked her brain, thinking back over the past couple of days, trying to picture everywhere they went, when it suddenly hit her. “Ramsford! She wanted to show Bartie, so she brought it when we were there for lunch the other day.” Riley put her hands on Eleanor’s shoulders and pulled her back gently. “Eleanor, I’m going to go call Uncle Max to see if Hunny is there, okay?”

Eleanor nodded as she rubbed her eyes. Riley stood from the bed and pulled her phone out of her back pocket as she stepped into the hallway.

“Hey Riley!” Maxwell greeted her on the second ring.

“Max, thank god! We have a bit of an emergency.”

“What’s wrong? Who’s coming for the throne now?”

Riley chuckled at his response, which helped ease her concern about the issue. After everything they had been through, if the worst thing to happen to them is a lost stuffed animal, then everything was going to be just fine. “It’s nothing like that. Eleanor can’t find her Hunny Bunny. I think we may have left it there.”

“Oh yeah, she’s here. I’ll bring it tomorrow when we come for the festival.”

“Actually, could you just give it to Drake? I’m sure he won’t mind dropping it off on his way home.” There was silence on the other end of the line. “Max? Are you still there?”

“I’m here, but Drake’s not.”

“But he said he was having dinner with Savannah tonight.”

“Nope, he hasn’t been by in a couple of weeks actually.”

“Man, I knew he was being shady!”

“Wait, what do you mean? What’s going on?”

“I’ll fill you in tomorrow. For now, please please bring Hunny Bunny with you tomorrow.”

“You bet, see you then!”

Riley hung up the phone and took a deep breath before returning to her daughter’s room. Without Eleanor’s stuffed animal of choice, it was going to be a long night.

***

The next day, the royal family walked through the crowd greeting people, and exploring everything the festival had to offer.

“I get what you’re saying,” Riley said to Liam. “But he’s not just not telling us stuff, he’s straight up lying to us. That’s not a Drake thing.”

Liam looked at his wife thoughtfully. “That’s true. As much as he’s kept to himself, I’ve never known him to lie to me.”

“So, we can confront him and ask him what’s going on?”

“Uncle Drake!” Eleanor’s excited shout pulled Liam and Riley’s attention. They looked ahead and saw Drake approaching them.

“Hey, kiddo.” Drake smiled as he lifted Eleanor into a hug.

As Eleanor and Drake greeted each other, Liam and Riley had a conversation with their eyes. Liam pleaded with Riley not to confront him, to which she agreed.

“So Eleanor, how would you like some cotton candy?” Drake asked.

The princess’s eyes went wide as she turned to her parents for permission. Liam and Riley chuckled at her hopeful expression. “Mommy, Daddy, please?” Eleanor begged. “I’ll bring some back for baby David.”

“That’s very sweet of you, princess,” Liam leaned in, kissing his daughter on the cheek. “But babies can’t eat cotton candy.”

“That’s right, baby girl,” Riley added. “So why don’t you just go ahead and eat extra for your brother?”

Eleanor cheered and jumped up and down in excitement. “Come on, Uncle Drake!” She grabbed his hand and rushed him toward the food vendors.

A while later, Riley was mercifully pulled away from a conversation with Hakim and Joelle Theron when David started crying from his stroller. She excused herself, and once she was out of their earshot, she thanked her son profusely for his timing.

“Riley! Riley, wait up!” Maxwell called as he rushed to catch up with his friend.

“Diaper emergency Max, no time.” She replied, just as he fell into step with her.

The pair stepped into the palace and into a small sitting area. As Riley set up a makeshift diaper station on a nearby table, Maxwell bounced on his heels behind her.

“Riley, you’re never going to guess what I saw?”

Riley recoiled back as she opened David’s soiled diaper. “Ugh, it can’t be any worse than this.”

“I think I know what’s going on with Drake.”

Riley turned to face Maxwell. “Spill right now, Beaumont.”

***

The next day, as the Royal Council meeting let out, Liam caught Drake before he could slip out, and invited him back to his office for a drink. As soon as they walked in the office, Liam’s desk chair slowly turned, revealing Riley, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Welcome, Drake.” She said as she rested her elbows on the desk, steepling her fingers in front of her.

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. When he and Riley talked about confronting Drake, they agreed that they would speak to him rationally. His wife appeared to have other plans.

“What’s up with you, weirdo?” Drake asked at Riley’s dramatic display.

Liam invited Drake to sit before stepping to the bar cart and making two drinks. He handed one to Drake before stepping around the desk and standing beside his wife. “Drake, we wanted to talk to you. To make sure you were alright.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He responded. “Why would you ask?”

“Because you’re a big fat liar!” Riley blurted out. Liam placed a hand on her shoulder at the outburst as Drake’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Drake,” Liam interjected. “The other night, when you told us that you were going to Ramsford, Riley spoke with Maxwell, and he told her you hadn’t been there.”

“Hold on,” Drake stood from his chair. “You guys are checking up on me?”

“Not intentionally. We lost one of Eleanor’s toys, and I called Maxwell to find it.” Riley crossed her arms over her chest. “And don’t try to turn this around on us.”

“Love, stand down.” Liam leaned down, kissing her on the cheek before turning back to Drake. “Drake, we’re just worried about you. You know we don’t mind that you keep to yourself, but it’s not like you to lie.”

Drake let out a deep breath as he fell back into his chair, finishing off the rest of his drink. “I’m sorry you guys. I didn’t mean to worry you, I just needed some time to myself for a while.”

“Well that’s another lie.” Riley scoffed, Drake arched a brow at her. “You have a girlfriend!”

Drake’s eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped. “How did you…”

“Maxwell saw you canoodling at the festival yesterday.” She responded. “What’s wrong with her? Why don’t you want to show her off? Does she have an eyepatch? Pegleg? Hook hand?”

Liam and Drake both froze and stared at Riley curiously.

“What the fuck, Brooks?” Drake finally broke the silence.

“Love, I don’t think Drake is seeing a pirate.”

“Sorry, Eleanor’s been on a real Peter Pan kick. I’ve got pirates on the brain.” She shrugged.

“Riley, can you give Drake and I a moment alone?” Liam asked.

Riley stood from the chair, and moved to leave the office, pausing before she opened the door and turning back to her husband and her friend. “I just want the chance to be there for you the way you always have for me.” Before Drake could respond, she was gone.

“I’m sorry, Drake.” Liam apologized as he sat in his chair. “I didn’t mean for this to be an attack on you.”

“It’s alright,” Drake shrugged. “And for the record, I’m sorry I lied to you guys.”

The pair sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Liam finished off his drink and stood, tilting his chin toward Drake’s glass. He nodded, affirming that he wanted a refill. Liam took the glasses and took them to the bar cart.

“So,” Liam began as he refilled their drinks, “What’s her name?”

“Alyssa, Alyssa Devereaux.” He said. Even with his back to his friend, Liam could hear the smile in his voice.

“You’re happy?” Liam asked as he handed Drake his drink.

“I am Li, she’s amazing. I never expected to fall as hard as I did.”

Liam nodded as he returned to his seat, placing his drink down in front of him. “Why wouldn’t you want to share that happiness with your friends?”

Drake shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, it’s just,” he trailed off, trying to find the best way to explain what he was feeling. “This whole world, the court, nobles, all that, it’s a lot. I know what it can do to an outsider, I wanted to protect her from it.”

“That’s reasonable, I understand wanting to protect someone you care about, you know that.” Drake nodded in response. “But Drake, if this is something that you see as long term, it’s an inevitability that you will need to start introducing her into this whole world. As much as I know it pains you to admit it, you are a part of the court.”

“Yeah, you’re right. There are just so many things that could go wrong. I don’t want to lose her, Liam.”

Liam smiled, he had known Drake his whole life, and he had never talked about a girl like this. He had it bad, and it was painfully obvious. “Why don’t you ease her into it. She doesn’t have to dive into it all at once.”

“What do you mean?” Drake asked.

“Introduce her to people that will be at court functions ahead of time. That way, she will have allies to turn to if she gets uneasy.”

Drake arched a brow. “Allies like the king and queen?”

“If you’re going to have allies, it doesn’t hurt for them to be at the top.” Liam grinned sheepishly.

Drake let out a deep breath. “I guess I can’t keep her hidden forever.”

“Wonderful!” Liam exclaimed. “You should bring her by for dinner this weekend. Just a small, unofficial get together. We’ll do it in our quarters, Riley will cook. Completely informal, just your friends meeting your… girlfriend?” Drake nodded, confirming Alyssa’s title.

“I guess that sounds alright. I mean, if it’s just you guys, I can’t imagine what could go wrong.”

Permatag:

@3pawandme @alj4890 @busywoman @charlotteg234 @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @differenttyphoonwerewolf @emkay512 @foreverethereal123 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @imashybish @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @malblk21 @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @secretaryunpaid @sincerelyella @theroyalheirshadowhunter @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @txemrn

Liam:

@amandablink @custaroonie @jared2612

TRR:

@21-wishes @ao719 @belencha77 @burnsoslow @lovingchoices14 @the0afnan @xpandass420x

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the-black-zoroark · 1 year ago

Text

“Dreaming...”

Dreaming of everything... Of nothing...

The sky, night, but brighter than the day... A road of spilt milk, shining down with a million twinkling stars, like the eyes of a mother ever watchful of her young...

Running... The forest, dark as pitch despite the sky... Crawling with childhood fears, the kind only a warm hug can burn away... The Big Bad Wolf... The woods, from all the oldest fairy-tales... The ones where they all live happily...

Everafter...

“Everafter...”

...

Auzī didn’t want to stop running... It also didn’t want to move at all... Most of all, it didn’t want to learn, not now, not from old stories where everyone is happy in the end... Written by people who either had no idea how life really works, or who stuck their heads in the sand because they didn’t want to acknowledge the truth...

...

“If they weren’t worth learning from, they wouldn’t have been remembered... Wouldn’t have survived these many lifetimes... I taught them to you because at the end of the day, they help you make sense of the world around you, that’s why they’ve stuck around so long...”

...

“...It doesn't matter... I don’t want to be a part of the world they’re teaching about anymore, anyway...”

“You don’t mean that, little one... If that’s true, then why are you running?”

“Because... Because there’s a Wolf in these woods... The Wolf... Big and Bad...”

“And you want to escape it... You want to live...”

The forest makes no sound, no sight, no sense... It’s like... A trick...

Trickster...

“Trickster...”

“What?”

“What qualities to the heroes in all these stories have in common? They were smart, they were able to trick the evil, think around the issue, solve their problems without needing might, or powerful weapons, or impossible magics...

Smart is something anyone can be, really, it’s not an impossible thing locked behind years of study... You just need to be able to look at the world around you, and have the soul to live in it... That ability, to show a hero who anyone can be, a trickster, is why these stories have stayed in the world’s memory...”

Auzī’s feet splash through mud, still moving on into nowhere... But as it’s mother’s voice surrounds it, Auzī begins to think, it's paws slowing on the path...

“A memory is a kind of illusion... As is a dream... And most especially, your imagination... When we make our illusions, all we’re doing is dreaming for the world to see... This place is your illusion, my child, what do you think you’re really running from? Why do you run from it?”

Auzī knows the answer, knows that running will never work, knows that it has to be smart... But it doesn’t know what to do... The Wolf chasing it is Fear Itself... And Auzī doesn’t want to face that yet... However, even so, it is forced to come to a sudden realization... It’s paws go still, resigned...

“What have you learned?”

“That these trees look a lot like teeth, viewed from inside the maw of the Big Bad Wolf... That no fear is chasing me, I’m already caught... The one thing I feared above all else is losing you...”

“Half correct... You are not caught... Like a true Trickster, you thought through the problem and understood it, but the solution is never that it’s too late... Not for you, at least... You can still act, still change the world, still live... The thing you feared didn’t swallow you, it has long since passed you by... I’ve been gone for some time now...

But now, you must live...

I pass this honour onto you my child, to be the Trickster Everafter... The Everafter Trickster...

To paint your dreams onto the air like a canvas, with no restrictions at all... Myths and Legends at your fingertips, limited only by your imagination...

In Title, I name you...

The Dreamer...

...

I love you, Auzī...”

Auzī’s eyes, once as deep dark as the rest of it’s body, are Golden... It finally understands, at least in part... The thing it feared is in the past, and it can never be changed... But the past itself should not be feared... It cannot hurt you, not if you don’t let it... And Auzī is tired of sleeping life away... Its time to dream in the light of day...

“I love you too...

Goodbye... Mama...”

...

Somewhere in Joltik-Guy’s Nimbasa dorm-room, a Trickster opens it’s eyes...

#pokeblogging #rotomblr #in character #//off blog rp #werepersian arc #high stakes pokereality #Dreamer #Everafter Trickster #tw pokemon death #tw loss of parent

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reigningqueenofwords · 6 months ago

Text

Plenty of Chances

Pairing: past Dean x Reader, Dean x Allie (OC), Benny x Reader Word count: 2,454

Read on AO3

Part 5 of Unholy

The next day at work, the guys were constantly checking on you. It was sweet, but a tad tiring. You said nothing, however, knowing they had all been very worried the day before. You couldn’t fault them for that. By the time the day was over, you were greatly looking forward to relaxing. However, you knew that before you could relax…Allie wanted to talk. There was a pit in your stomach.

Fifteen minutes after you got home, Allie was at your door. She came with dinner, as well. “Courtesy of Mary.” She explained.

“Oh, I’ve never met her, but I have heard good things about her cooking.” You told her as you let her in.

“She’s dying to meet you.” She admitted, setting her purse down. “We just need to put this in the oven at 350 for about ten minutes to heat up.”

Nodding, you took the dish and made your way to the kitchen. Surely she wouldn’t be coming over with dinner if she knew about you and Dean, right? “Can I get you something to drink?” You asked once the oven was preheating. “I have milk, juice, water, I have Bolthouse smoothies in there.”

“Juice would be nice, thank you.” She didn’t think she was doing well hiding her nerves. As you moved around, she watched you. Dean’s words from the night before echoing in her mind.

The silence hung over them, making every moment more and more tense. Finally, you’d had enough. “So, you wanted to talk? What’s up?” You asked, ripping that band aid right off.

Allie took a breath, steadying herself like she had the night before, as well. “Yesterday Dean told about the pair of you.” She told you honestly. “He told me that the baby is his, and that you had no idea that he’s married. Is that true?”

You nearly dropped your glass as her first sentence, but managed to set it down on the counter. “I’d never heard any of them mention a wife, your name, or anything.” You told her.

“He said that you tore into him after work the day you met me, too.”

“I did.” You nodded. “I felt beyond gross. I’ve never, ever slept with a guy who was seeing someone, or married. I had been wondering why we’d never gone on dates outside the shop. I knew that day when I met you exactly why. I felt used.”

Allie felt for you. “Why didn’t you tell me? You had plenty of chances.” Her tone wasn’t harsh, which honestly made it all that much worse.

“I felt it was Dean’s place. I had so many conflicting thoughts in my head, and the more I got to know you the worse the guilt got.” You ran a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry. I should have contacted you. I should have told you, in the off chance that he never owned up to what happened.”

“Thank you. I do appreciate that.” She said honestly. “I sat him down to talk to him more last night. Ask him some things.” You didn’t say anything, letting her say things in her own time. “I asked him if there had been anyone else, and he said there hadn’t been. So, I asked him what about you made him want to cheat on me.” You looked down at that, knowing that your actions ruined a marriage. A marriage that seemed to be going so well until you walked into that shop. “He said there was just something about you. That he was drawn to you, and he was attracted to you the moment he saw you.”

Feeling a tear on your cheek, you wiped it quickly. Hearing the oven beep to let you know that it had preheated, you quickly put the dish in the oven and set a timer.

“I asked him if he would have said anything if you hadn’t gotten pregnant. He said ‘no’.” Her voice wavered slightly. “I then asked if he loved you.”

You sucked in a breath at that. Never in a million years did you think that would have come up. It had only been a couple months of sleeping together and sharing dinner. There were no ‘real’ dates. All your interactions had been at the shop. Dean loved Allie, not you. You already knew his answer.

Dean sat at the bar, downing a shot. Benny sat on one side of him, Cas on the other. Garth was off playing darts. “I’m sure you guessed I told Allie the truth.” He finally said after a few shots.

Benny nodded. “Bout time.” He muttered, sipping his beer.

“I’m guessing since you’re here, and not at home, that it didn’t go well.” Cas glanced at his best friend.

“She’s over at Y/N’s right now.” He sighed. “We had our talk last night.” He went on. “She had questions she wanted answered, and I told her I was an open book.” Before he said anything else, he got the bartender's attention. “Can I get a beer?” He nodded his thanks once it was in front of him. Thankfully he’d been there enough that they just knew his beer of choice. “She asked if there were any others, I told her there weren’t. She asked what it was about Y/N, I told her I was drawn to her. She asked if I would have told her if Y/N didn’t get pregnant, I told her ‘no’. She asked me if I love Y/N.” He sipped his beer, eyes on the bar.

Benny and Cas shared a look over Dean’s back. They felt his silence spoke volumes. “What did you say?” Cas asked softly, wanting confirmation.

“I’m sorry, Benny.” He said simply. Dean felt even worse at this. Not only did he cheat on his wife, he clearly led you on in terms of him being available, he got you pregnant, and he was in love with his best friend’s girlfriend. What the hell was happening to him? He didn’t feel like himself, but a small part of him liked that. He couldn’t even begin to explain why .

What the hell could Benny possibly say? He couldn’t tell him it was okay. He couldn’t lash out angrily, either. “She’s a good woman.” Was what he went with. It was the truth. Now he wondered. Did you love Dean? He knew you wouldn’t cheat on him, nor did he think you’d sleep with Dean even if you were single. However, he wondered. How could he not?

It felt like an eternity before Allie ripped the rug out from under you. “He said he’s in love with you.” Her voice was soft.

Whipping your head up, your eyes were wide, full of confusion. That couldn’t be right. What the hell did you even say to that? ‘No, he’s not’? Your mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out.

Allie gave you a sad smile. “I’m not angry with you. I’m not one of those wives who is going to go after the ‘other woman’, especially one that didn’t even know a wife existed.” She assured you.

“I ruined your marriage, though.” You sniffed.

“No, you didn’t. Dean did that himself. He chose to pursue you. He’s the one that didn’t mention me. He’s the one who lied to us both.” Her tone was firm. “And I don’t even know what’s going on with our marriage right now, honestly. He’s staying at home, for the kids’ sake, but…” She sighed. “I told him I can never forgive him. That’s true. But I don’t know if I can have him earn my trust back. Can I ever not wonder? I’m not saying I’d ever worry about you sleeping with him again, not only can I tell you’re truly sorry, but you did tear into him about it. And you’re with Benny. When did that happen, anyway?” She was curious.

You let out a humorless chuckle. “Benny asked me out to lunch maybe five minutes before I met you.” You told her. “But we got close after I quit. It just kinda fell into place.”

Hearing the timer go off, you got the food from the oven. “How about we find something to watch, push all this from our minds, and enjoy Mary’s cooking.” She was upset, and could tell you were, too. “Do you have a favorite show?”

“Uh, Criminal Minds.” You wiped your cheeks before getting plates.

“Yes! Please tell me you root for Garcia and Morgan!” She got excited.

“Who wouldn’t? I would climb that man like a tree.” You giggled. “I really hope that they’re an end game couple. Like, even if it takes seasons to get them together.”

Allie nodded. “Same. Reid, such a cutie, right?” If anything, maybe Criminal Minds is what could help turn this from an awkward friendship into a true, not awkward, friendship.

You plated your food and handed her a plate. “Yes. He is so adorable.” You agreed. “What season are you on? Or do you just wanna start on season one?” You asked as the pair of you carried your plates and drinks to the living room.

After two episodes, Allie was at the door to leave. “I’m glad I decided to talk to you.” She smiled.

“Me, too.” You agreed.

“Especially because our kids will be siblings. I want to get any awkwardness out of the way before they’re older, ya know? I’d like them to be close.”

That took so many worries off your shoulders. “I’d like them to be close, too. Well, then I hope since you’re having a boy…that I have a girl.” You chuckled.

“I like how you think.” She laughed. “Night, Y/N.”

“Night.” You gently shut the door behind you. You planned to wash the dishes from dinner, and you’d bring Dean his mother’s casserole dish the next day to get it back to her. That night took so much off your shoulders, and you hoped that it did the same for Allie.

The next day, you set the dish in the breakroom, and there was a bag with a couple cookies in it. You’d spotted them while you were getting a drink that morning, and decided to get them for Mary. You’d also put a little thank you note, complimenting her cooking. Now that Allie knew, you wondered if Dean would be telling his parents. You’d met John, and he was really nice. Would that change now?

“You okay?” Came Cas’s voice, jerking you from your thoughts.

You chuckled lightly. “Yeah, I’m okay. Was lost in my own thoughts.” You shrugged. “How’ve you been?” You asked, sipping your frappe.

He smiled, moving to get himself a cup of coffee. “I’ve been pretty good. Glad I didn’t drink that much last night or I’d have a hangover.”

“Yeah, those are no fun.” You scrunched your nose. “My worst one was when I was in college. My best friend and her boyfriend broke up. We went out drinking to distract her. I had many regrets the next morning.” You laughed. “I’m so glad that cell phones weren’t all that popular then!”

Cas laughed at that. “Oh man. College days.” He sighed, shaking his head. “We’ll have to swap stories some time. I bet you have some fun ones.”

You grinned. “I really do.” You thought back to those more carefree times. “That feels like it was lifetime ago, really.”

“It does.” He agreed. “Sometimes I wish I could go back, but I do love my life. Ya know? It’s not that I regret how life has gone, but at the same time I miss it.”

“I totally get it. Life, while stressful, was more carefree.” You knew exactly what he meant.

“What’re we talking about?” Garth asked, walking in, taking a bite of a sandwich.

“College.” You and Cas answered at the same time.

“And are you eating a roast beef sandwich? At 7:30 in the morning?” You chuckled, earning a shrug. “Should I start bringing in breakfast foods?”

“Technically, anything is a breakfast food. I don’t adhere to the ‘certain foods should be consumed at certain times’.” He told you.

“Touche.” You felt that as long as he was eating, it was fine. “I do love a good slice of cold pizza for breakfast.” You agreed.

Both men nodded at that. “Can’t go wrong with cold pizza.” Garth agreed happily. While he understood that you were still looking for a new job, he truly hoped you came to love working there again. Him, Cas, and of course Benny, loved having you there. He doubted anyone else could come close to bringing the same life you did to the shop.

As days went by, you began planning what you would get Allie for Ethan. It had to be perfect, and wanted it ordered with plenty of time to arrive before she had him. One night while Benny was in the shower, you were scrolling through Etsy. Spotting the cutest little cardigan, you melted. “Perfect.” You said to yourself. You’d get Ethan a little Spencer Reid inspired outfit! You felt that Allie would love that, and got to work finding what you needed.

Everything was ordered as Benny came out in a pair of lounge pants. “You look happy, cher.” He smiled.

“I just ordered the perfect present for Allie.” You said happily. “We both like Criminal Minds and find Reid just adorable. So, I got her a little Reid inspired outfit for Ethan.” You showed him the outfit.

He chuckled. “That’s adorable.” He agreed. “When we do find out what you’re having again? Next month?” He was over the moon excited for that.

You nodded. “One month from tomorrow, actually.” You had toyed with the idea of not finding out, but decided against it. “Lunch date after?” You asked, hopeful.

Benny licked his lips and nodded. “I’d love that, but I had a question.”

“What’s that?”

“Would you rather have Dean there? Seein’ as it’s his kid.” He wondered if that was something you wanted with Dean, as you clearly expected Dean to step up for this baby. He wouldn’t really be hurt by it, but he was hoping it was him you wanted to bring along. He’s the one that had gone to all your other appointments with you.

You blinked. “That hadn’t even crossed my mind.” You admitted. “You’re the one I go to appointments with. I don’t even think he goes to Allie’s appointments, honestly. Why would he want to come to mine? I was the ‘other woman’.” You shrugged.

Benny kissed your temple. “I’ll happily be by your side, suga.” He promised. “He can find out with Garth and Cas.”

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