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carnationworld-writings · 1 month ago

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The Man He Didn’t Have to Be (Tim Bradford x fem!reader)

To read my other works, check my MASTERLIST !

Paring: Tim Bradford x reader

Universe: The Rookie

Word Count: 3857

Requested: No

Warnings: pregnancy, divorce, ex-husband who is a piece of s*it, mention of childbirth

If I forgot about anything feel free to write to me. Your well-being is a top priority to me.

Summary: When her world crumbles, Tim is there to step up.

Author’s note:

Surprise! I am alive! I know it's not what you wanted but, I started watching "The Rookie" and fell in love with Tim! So I needed to write something about him. I also may have a baby fever (again...) So this fic happened. Enjoy!

Thank you for taking the time to read my work! I would greatly appreciate any feedback you may have as it motivates me to continue improving. Please don't hesitate to share your thoughts!

And please forgive any grammar or spelling errors, as English is not my first language.

Klaudia 💜

Every time she thought her life couldn’t get worse, something new seemed to be waiting for her. First, her husband announced he was leaving, telling her he’d found a woman he loved in a way he had never loved her. She tried to fight for their marriage and convince him to change his mind, but nothing worked. With a broken heart, she finally decided to let him go. Even though her heart shattered into a thousand pieces, she signed the divorce papers. She attempted to rebuild her life—she found a small apartment, focused on her work, and tried not to sink into depression during the long, lonely hours. Thankfully, she wasn’t entirely alone. Tim Bradford, her best friend for years, had always been by her side, even in the middle of the night when she couldn’t stop crying or obsessing over what had gone wrong in her relationship. He was her rock, her greatest support.

Just when she thought her life was starting to settle down, she began feeling unwell. At first, she attributed it to stress, but eventually, she connected the dots and took a pregnancy test, which came back positive. She knew her ex-husband deserved to know the truth, even if he hadn’t been entirely honest with her. So, she texted him and asked to meet. What followed, however, was nothing short of her worst nightmare.

When they met at the café, she felt as if time had slowed down. He sat across from her, completely indifferent, as if everything that had happened between them was a closed chapter. He looked at her with a cold gaze, waiting for her to speak. She struggled to gather the strength to say the words that had been swirling in her head for days.

“I’m pregnant,” she finally said, looking straight at him, searching for any reaction. His face remained expressionless. For a moment, she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her. But after a second, his lips tightened, and his eyes showed a flicker of displeasure.

“The relationship between us was over long before I found someone else. This changes nothing,” he said coldly. Those words cut her like a knife.

“I’m not telling you to come back to me… It’s your child and deserves to have a father… ” she tried to insist, though her voice trembled.

“That’s your problem. You’ll have to deal with it,” he replied emotionlessly, standing up from the table as if the meeting had been nothing more than an irritating interruption in his perfectly arranged new life.

When he left, she felt as if the world was collapsing around her. Tears welled up in her eyes, but this time, she wasn’t going to cry. Instead, she pulled out her phone and called Tim. As soon as he heard her voice, he knew something was wrong.

“Where are you?” he asked, no questions needed. “I’m on my way.”

It wasn’t even fifteen minutes before Tim was by her side, his eyes filled with concern. Without a word, he pulled her close, letting her lean on him as she fought back the tears. In his presence, she felt the tension in her body begin to ease.

“Tim… There’s something you should know. I…” She took a shaky breath. She felt his hold tighten around her. He rested his cheek against her head, softly rubbing her back with his hand.

“Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together. Like we always do,” he said calmly, trying to give her as much comfort as possible.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered, feeling a lump in her throat. “And it’s his. But he said it’s only my problem. He doesn’t want anything to do with this baby…” For a moment, his face showed surprise, as if he was trying to process what he had just heard. He didn’t say anything at first, pulling back slightly to look at her, and she wasn’t sure how he would react. She feared that silence, that hesitation.

“Okay,” he finally said, slowly. Tim pressed his lips together, clearly upset, though he tried to stay calm. “He’s a jerk. But you won’t go through this alone. You’ll never be alone—I won’t let that happen.”

True to his word, Tim never let her feel alone. From the moment he learned about her pregnancy, he stepped naturally into a role that felt both essential and reassuring. He took over her usual shopping, refusing to let her carry a single bag, insisting it was the least he could do. Each morning, he arrived at her door with fresh breakfast, right after his run with Kojo, the loyal dog who seemed to sense the changes happening in their lives.

Even during his shifts, Tim made it a point to check-in. He texted her regularly, asking how she felt, and called just to hear her voice, attuned to any subtle shifts in her mood. But his favourite part of the day was always the evenings when he would come to her home. Most nights, she greeted him with a smile, though the fatigue etched on her face often told a different story. Each time, he pulled her into a warm embrace, holding her like a protective blanket. Some nights she hugged him back just as tightly; other times, she simply leaned into him, letting him hold her. On those nights, he sent her to the couch, where Kojo would curl up beside her, resting his head on her lap, seeking her affection.

Tim loved cooking dinner for them, always mindful of preparing meals that wouldn’t upset her stomach. He quickly learned what she could tolerate and what made her feel worse. On the rare occasions, his cooking didn’t go as planned, he would kneel beside her in the bathroom, holding her hair back and rubbing her back—his unwavering support something she had come to rely on deeply.

What he cherished most were their late-night conversations. They talked endlessly, about work, their future, and even the small details of their day. These talks deepened their bond with each passing evening.

But tonight felt different. From the moment he arrived, he noticed the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her thoughts seemed miles away. Sensing the shift, he suggested watching a movie they’d been meaning to catch up on. She quietly agreed, thankful for the distraction, and didn’t protest when he pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her.

As they settled in, her hand absentmindedly rested on her stomach, where a small bump had just begun to show. Though she tried not to dwell on it, her mind wandered back to something a colleague had said earlier. The words echoed painfully in her thoughts—that it was her fault her husband had left, and that Tim was only with her out of pity. The sting of those words hung heavy on her heart. Tim had always been her rock, but now, more than ever, she felt guilty leaning on him. This wasn’t his burden to carry; she had to find her strength in the chaos.

“Tim,” she began softly, breaking the silence. “I feel like I’ve dragged you into something you didn’t sign up for. This isn’t your responsibility. Me, this baby… we’re not your burden.”

Tim frowned, shaking his head firmly. “That’s not how I see it. I want to be here. I choose to be here. You’re important to me—always have been, always will be. Now that just extends to your baby too. You’re not dragging me into anything. I’m choosing this.”

She blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. The certainty in his voice made her heart ache in the best possible way. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to go through this alone. Yet doubt still lingered on the edges of her mind.

“Are you sure?” she whispered, her hands trembling slightly. “This is going to change everything.”

“I’m sure,” he replied without hesitation. Gently, he placed his hand over hers, almost covering her small bump. “We’re in this together. All three of us.” They both chuckled softly as Kojo, lying contentedly by her feet, gave a small bark. “Alright, four of us,” Tim added with a grin.

She nodded slowly and leaned back against his side. No matter what uncertainties lay ahead, Tim brought peace and safety into her life. As she felt him press a soft kiss on the top of her head, she knew that he was in this 100 percent. With him by her side, she felt ready to face every step of the journey ahead.

As the movie played in the background, a warm sense of comfort washed over her. Despite the unknowns of the future, she had her best friend, someone who believed in both her and the life they were building together. And together, they could face whatever came next.

The quiet hum of the ultrasound machine filled the small room, the rhythmic beeps syncing with her heartbeat. The sound, once foreign and unnerving, had become strangely comforting, marking each milestone of a journey she’d never thought possible. Lying back, her hand rested gently on her growing belly, feeling the warmth of the life moving inside her—a sensation that was as awe-inspiring as it was surreal. The nurse moved the cold, gel-covered probe across her skin, and though a shiver ran up her spine, she barely registered it. Her eyes were locked on the screen, waiting for the familiar grainy image of her baby to appear.

And then it did—a blur at first, slowly sharpening into the unmistakable shape of tiny hands and feet, twisting and turning as if to greet them. A soft gasp escaped her lips. No matter how many times she witnessed this, it always left her breathless.

Tim sat beside her, his eyes fixed on the monitor, a quiet smile playing on his lips. His face, usually so composed, softened with awe. He had always been good at hiding his emotions, but moments like these stripped away his calm facade. Without thinking, his hand found hers, their fingers entwining in a silent exchange of support. He gave her a gentle squeeze, then leaned in and pressed a light kiss on the top of her hand. It was a gesture so natural, so full of unspoken affection, that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

"Everything looks perfect," the nurse said, her tone upbeat as she wiped the gel from her belly. "Baby’s healthy and growing right on track."

She nodded, a wave of relief washing over her. The tight knot of anxiety that had taken up residence in her chest loosened—if only a little. Each passing month had brought new fears and uncertainties, but slowly, those feelings were giving way to cautious hope. It had taken longer than she expected to feel this way, but now, she could finally begin to see herself as a mother. And in every vision of that future, Tim was always there, steady and unwavering, just as he had been from the beginning.

After the appointment, Tim stood and offered her his hand, helping her off the exam table with the ease of someone who had been there through every step. His presence had become her constant, a source of comfort she hadn’t known she would need but now couldn’t imagine living without. Over the months, he had kept every promise, never wavering, never complaining—always there, even when she didn’t know how to ask for help.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as they stepped outside the clinic, the crisp air hitting their faces. His hand hovered near her arm, close but not quite touching—a subtle, protective gesture, ready to catch her if she stumbled.

“I’m good,” she said, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Better than I’ve felt in a long time.”

He nodded, clearly pleased, though his eyes still scanned hers, searching for any sign of discomfort or worry. “You’re handling this like a champ,” he said softly.

She let out a light laugh. “I don’t always feel like it, but I’m trying.”

As they walked to his car, their footsteps fell into an easy rhythm, the silence between them comfortable and familiar. When they reached the car, Tim opened the passenger door for her, but before getting in, she paused, turning to face him, her expression suddenly serious.

“Tim,” she began, her voice quiet but steady, “you’ve been amazing. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you. I mean it. You’ve taken care of us—even though you didn’t have to.”

He looked at her, his warm, reassuring smile never faltering. “You don’t need to thank me,” he replied softly. “I’m just glad I can be here.”

But she saw something flicker in his eyes—something deeper, something he wasn’t saying. Tim was always so careful, so controlled with his emotions, but she had known him long enough to recognize when he was holding something back. Yet she didn’t press him. Not now.

As they drove back to her apartment, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—baby names they hadn’t yet decided on, the nursery they were slowly piecing together, and the never-ending stream of baby books filling her apartment. They laughed about the absurd number of gadgets people swore they "needed" for a newborn, trading jokes about the most ridiculous ones.

Yet beneath their playful banter, there was a tension neither acknowledged, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air. Tim had always kept his distance emotionally, respectful of her space, never pushing her for more than she was ready to give. He had made it clear from the start that he was there to support her, no matter what, and he had lived up to that promise in every way. But that didn’t stop his heart from racing when she smiled, or the way his pulse quickened when their hands brushed accidentally.

He had loved her for years—long before she had married before everything had fallen apart with her ex-husband. Tim had watched her fall for someone else, had been there when her heart broke, and now, here he was, still by her side. Taking care of her, taking care of the baby that wasn’t his.

He never said anything. He couldn’t. His feelings had to wait. Right now, all that mattered was her and the baby. His love, his desires—they would come later. For now, being there was enough. It had to be.

As the weeks passed, their lives settled into a comforting rhythm, though they didn’t notice the subtle shift that began to happen between them. Unspoken feelings hovered just beneath the surface, and they found themselves growing closer, more open with one another. Friends started to notice too. They exchanged knowing smiles as Tim’s touch lingered a little longer on her arm or back.

Angela Lopez had rolled her eyes more than once when hearing endless stories about “Tim’s friend” and all the thoughtful things he did for her and the baby. Whenever she visited the station with sweet treats for everyone, Angela often caught Tim and her in quiet moments, where their connection seemed palpable. More than once, Angela noticed the way she would place his hand over her bump when the baby kicked, and how Tim responded with a smile that said more than words ever could.

The biggest change came one evening while they were assembling the crib. She sat comfortably in a rocking chair, one hand resting on her belly, the other absentmindedly petting Kojo’s head as he lay beside her. The dog had become as protective of her as Tim was, always at her side when he could be.

She watched as Tim wrestled with the instruction manual, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re doing it wrong,” she teased, smiling.

“I am not,” he shot back, glancing up with mock indignation. “I’ve got this.”

As he fumbled with the crib parts, she laughed—a sound that felt like a rare gift these days. For a moment, it was just like old times—before the pregnancy, before the heartbreak. Just the two of them, shared an easy, familiar joy that felt like home.

Tim looked up from the pieces scattered on the floor and froze for a second, watching her laugh. He hadn’t heard that sound in too long. It was unguarded, real. He smiled, letting himself soak in the moment.

“Well, if you’re so good at this, why don’t you help instead of just sitting there judging my work?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

She grinned. “I’m perfectly comfortable where I am, thanks. Besides, you’re doing great. It’s... entertaining.”

He chuckled and shook his head, returning to the task, muttering under his breath about her stubbornness. But secretly, he didn’t mind. Knowing she was there, watching him, laughing—it felt right. Like this was exactly where they were meant to be.

As the crib finally took shape, something between them shifted. There was an unspoken understanding in the air, something neither had fully acknowledged until now. Tim glanced at her, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other.

He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek longer than necessary. She leaned into his touch, her breath catching in her throat.

That was all the encouragement he needed.

Without thinking, Tim leaned in and kissed her, softly at first, hesitant. But when she kissed him back, her hand slipping to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. This—this—was where they were always meant to end up.

Together.

She struggled to breathe deeply as she slowly made her way down the hospital corridor, her grip tightening around the IV stand. Another contraction surged through her, pulling a low moan from her lips. She tried to focus on the gentle support of Nyla’s hand on her arm, but the pain was too consuming—sharp and overwhelming. When it finally ebbed, she glanced over at Nyla, her eyes filled with worry.

“Have you heard from Tim?” Her voice cracked, and tears welled up as she caught Nyla’s sympathetic smile.

“I texted him, and Grey knows to pass the message along. He’s coming,” Nyla reassured her. “Tim wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

She nodded, but a flicker of doubt gnawed at her. “I hope so… I don’t know if I can do this without him.” Her words were barely more than a whisper, her emotions unravelling.

“You’re stronger than you think,” Nyla said softly, her hand squeezing in quiet encouragement. “But he’ll be here, don’t worry.”

She tried to smile, but the uncertainty lingered. Tim had been her rock for so long—how could she face this moment without him? Nyla’s presence was a comfort, but it wasn’t the same.

They continued their slow walk back to the room for another check-up. The nurse met them with a concerned expression before examining her. When she announced that she was still far from delivering, a groan of frustration escaped her. She sank onto the bed, burying her face in her hands.

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” she whispered, her voice thick with exhaustion. “I just want to hold my baby.” Nyla brushed a lock of hair from her face, her steady presence an anchor.

“Soon,” she promised gently. “Soon.”

The hours crawled by in a blur of contractions and fleeting moments of rest. She clung to Nyla’s guidance, her body trembling from fatigue until the door suddenly swung open. Her breath caught as Tim rushed inside, his face flushed with worry.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, hurrying to her side. His hand found hers instantly, and the crushing weight of fear lifted just a little.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice breaking with relief as fresh tears filled her eyes. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, his touch grounding her in the storm of pain and anxiety.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead. His presence radiated warmth, steadying her as another contraction gripped her.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she managed between ragged breaths, her emotions spiralling. “I don’t know how I’d get through this without you.”

“You would,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “But now that I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” His gaze held hers, his thumb brushing soothing circles on her skin as another wave of pain washed over her.

They endured the hours together, Tim never leaving her side. His strength, and his quiet, unwavering support gave her the determination she needed to push through. The world blurred around them as they focused on bringing this new life into the world.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, the sharp, piercing cry of a newborn filled the room. She gasped, tears streaming down her face as the nurse placed the tiny, wriggling bundle on her chest. Her arms instinctively wrapped around the baby, and she looked up at Tim. His eyes were wide, filled with awe and tears he didn’t bother to wipe away.

She looked down at the baby, overwhelmed by the fragile, perfect little face scrunched up in protest. "Hi, sweet baby," she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. Her fingers brushed gently over the baby’s soft cheek. "I’m your mom."

Tim stood by her side, his hand resting on her shoulder as he gazed at the baby with pure wonder. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. "She’s perfect," he whispered, unable to look away.

“We did it,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his in a moment of shared joy.

Tim bent down, pressing a kiss to the baby’s head. "Welcome to the world," he murmured. "We’ve been waiting for you."

The baby’s cries softened, and the room fell into a peaceful quiet as if time had paused, leaving just the three of them cocooned in the moment. She couldn’t stop the tears—this time, they were tears of love, of pure joy. This was a happiness she had never known, a completeness she hadn’t imagined was possible.

“Do you want to hold her?” she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

Tim hesitated but then nodded, his hands gentle as the nurse helped him take the baby into his arms. He cradled the tiny bundle as though it were the most precious thing in the world, and in that moment, his love was unmistakable.

"Hi there... I’m Tim," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat. He paused, then added, “I’m not your dad, but I promise I’ll love you like one.”

Her heart swelled at his words. Reaching out, she rested her hand on his arm, gazing at the baby in his arms. “Tim... you are the father she deserves. You’ve cared for her from the start. You’ve been there every step of the way... and I love you for that.”

As the baby stirred, Tim smiled through his tears, and for the first time, she felt truly whole. This was their family—imperfect, unexpected, but overflowing with love. And as Tim bent down to kiss her lips, sealing the moment, she knew that they had found their way home.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford #tim bradford x you #tim bradford the rookie #the rookie #tim bradford fic #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford fanfiction #tim bradford fanfic #angela lopez #nyla harper #tw: pregnancy #tw: divorce #tw: childbirth

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vettelsvee · 1 month ago

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GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 5: I'LL NEVER LEAVE... NEVER MIND [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist | wattpad f1 masterlist | ao3 | ask anything or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader

word count: 4437

summary: after not seeing each other in almost five years, seb and y/n finally meet with just one purpose for her: telling seb they have a 4 year old daughter. will y/n be able to tell him?

warnings: mentions of sex. i think nothing else but i literally cried while writing this. i recommend that you listen to loml by taylor swift while reading this hehe

taglist: [ @saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife @sleutherclaw @youre-on-your-ownkid ]

a/n: i'm finally back! sorry you had to wait this long to get a new chapter but writers block had me going like crazy, as well as my mental health in general. i had something else planned for today BUT be aware of what I'm posting tomorrow since you might like it! christmas is coming soon and i have a surprise ready for you. let me remind you that feedback and reposts are truly appreciated. and also comment me your thoughts and theories on the story pls! missed you so much guys, thank you for everything, love you all <3

May 15th Heppenheim, Germany

“Y/N, remember that you need to be careful with what you say to Seb. I know you want to tell him about Emily, but also consider whether today is the right time. Imagine if…”

You stop listening to Hanna the moment her lips utter your daughter’s name. Instead, your mind started creating a thousand different scenarios about what could happen when you saw your ex-boyfriend today. Your gaze remained fixed on the mirror in your room.

You only returned home five days ago, but it felt like an eternity.

You knew perfectly well why, or rather, you knew perfectly well who was to blame for your distorted sense of time: Sebastian Vettel, of course.

The trip to London felt like a fresh start. While the main reason to go was your meeting with Capital Records to discuss what your near future might hold, you considered it as an opportunity to rethink what you wanted to do with your life from now on.

You had just turned 30, and the only thing you longed for was to start this new decade with a clean slate in every possible way. That, of course, included facing your past mistakes and recognizing your faults, one of which you might be about to commit today.

Hanna acted as some sort of mediator between you and Seb because, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t bring yourself to send him even the simplest of messages. The driver seemed to understand, as he told Hanna not to worry, that he understood, and that all you needed to do was show up without standing him up.

Despite having agreed to meet at your house, you decided to dress up a little to present yourself in the best way possible. After spending far more time than you’d like to admit choosing what to wear, you settled on a light blue knee-length dress and white Converse sneakers, with a bracelet your daughter made (or better said your mother made, just Emily took credit for).

"Y/N, are you even listening to me?"

The reflection of your best friend in the mirror startled you. You turned towards her, trying to maintain the calm you’ve lacked since returning from London. Exactly five days that have felt like five years.

Like the five years since you last saw Seb.

"Hey, cat got your tongue or what?" insisted the blonde. "Seriously, Y/N, I want you to be speechless, but preferably when you and Seb take the conversation from the couch to the bed and he makes you scream his name again just like he used to do when..."

"Hanna, for God's sake, shut up! Seb and I are only going to talk about..."

"I know, I know, I was just trying to make you laugh. You know I like to..."

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

If you were restless before, pacing back and forth in your room, checking that there was no trace of Emily in the house for Seb to find, now you were frozen like a statue.

You looked at Hanna, and she looked back at you. You shrugged, but Hanna just put her exaggeratedly unfriendly faces.

"Hanna, no..."

"It's Seb, Y/N! It's just Seb, for heaven's sake," she interrupted, and you cut her off just as fast.

"It's the Seb I haven't seen in five years!" you stammered, feeling the anxiety taking over. "Seriously, Hanna, this was a very, very bad idea. I don’t even know why I asked you to tell him to come and..."

"Because he's the father of your daughter, and your only goal is to tell him!" she yelled, trying not to raise her voice too much but failing miserably. You hoped to God Vettel didn’t hear that.

"Hanna..."

"Since I know you're not going to open the door, I'll do it myself. Stay here or come down, do whatever you want, but I'll tell Seb to come find you because clearly, you can't handle welcoming your guest," she declared.

Without saying anything else, she strided out of your room. You could only follow her, practically tripping down the stairs, legs trembling like a teenager on her first date. Your pulse was pounding in your temples, while your mind kept screaming at your body to calm down.

As soon as you stepped onto the ground floor, you saw Hanna opening the door. Her cheerful voice broke the silence, asking Seb how he was and, to your surprise, inviting him in.

You inched closer, not quite enough for them to notice you. Then you stopped, inspecting Seb from head to toe, as if you didn't already know every inch of his body by heart. Even though you were used to seeing him on TV and social media daily, it felt like you haven’t seen him in all this time you’ve been out of touch. He was wearing a slightly worn-out white t-shirt and jeans. His hair was perfectly trimmed, though a bit longer on top, and his beard, probably several days old, was what caught your attention the most, looking just the way you liked it.

But what really captivated you was the bouquet of yellow tulips he was holding, just like he used to bring you for dates or whenever it was a special day for either of you back when you were dating.

You swallowed hard, guilt washing over you as you thought, for a fleeting moment, about him handing you a flower bouquet before you told him you were having his baby.

"Hi..."

You thought your whisper was too soft to be heard, but it was quite the opposite.

Both Seb and Hanna turned to look at each other, then focused on you, still standing in the entryway. Your best friend tensed up slightly, but you tried to reassure her with a slight movement of your hands. The expression on your ex-boyfriend’s face seemed to light up at your small intervention, even if it was minimal.

“Well, Seb, I'll leave you with Y/N. I have a few errands to run…” Your friend tried to excuse herself, though both of you knew it wasn’t true. “See you later for a drink guys!

She winked and quickly slipped out, shutting the door behind her before either of you could even say goodbye.

Now, it was just the two of you, alone.

Seb looked at you again, and you couldn’t help it but get lost in the blue of his eyes. The situation felt strange. You used to cherish every moment of being alone together, but now you didn’t even know how to say a simple "hello."

You once trusted him completely, and now you were unsure whether to offer him a drink or tell him that you have a four-year-old daughter.

“Hi, sunshine,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Hi, Seb.”

He took a step towards you, slowly moving closer. You noticed how his gaze shifted from the flowers to your eyes, as if he was searching for some kind of answer from you. His eyes reflected a mixture of nervousness and tenderness, stirring a whirlwind of emotions inside you.

He didn’t have to say it, you could see it in his eyes. He was afraid of how you’d react to this gesture, this little detail that used to drive you crazy, but now… you didn’t know how to feel about it.

You, on the other hand, were utterly stunned.

How, after all this time and how cold you ended things, could he still do this? How could he still remember?

“These... are for you,” he finally said, his voice low and shaky. He handed you the bouquet, his hands trembling.

You met his gaze, and the way he looked at you was filled with fear, insecurity, and maybe, just maybe, a bit of tenderness. He didn’t need to say it out loud because you knew him too well. He was afraid of how you’d react to this gesture.

“Thank you,” you managed to say, taking your time to smell the flowers.

You couldn’t hold it in. Tears began to blur your vision, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you.

He noticed. Even though you didn’t want to, even though you didn’t feel capable of getting close enough to give him a kiss on the cheek or maybe even a hug, Seb did it anyway.

“It's okay, Y/N,” he whispered. “It’s okay...”

But it wasn’t okay… it was far from okay.

Sebastian Vettel was here, once again, standing in front of you, and possibly back in your life. The boy you once considered your best friend, the best friend you fell in love with, the driver you always supported, and most importantly, the father of your child, was back in your life in such an unexpected way that it still felt surreal.

“I don’t know...” you tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. “It feels surreal that after everything, after such an empty goodbye, here we are, together again,” you confessed. “It’s weird seeing you in front of me in the flesh and not as pixels on a screen.”

“Y/N…”

“I’ve missed you, Seb. So much.”

You knew your honesty didn’t catch him by surprise, because he felt the same way. That’s what hurt the most.

“I missed you too, Y/N. I really did...” he said after a moment, wrapping his arms around you, and you pressed your face against his chest.

“Seb…”

“Don’t overthink it, really,” he interrupted gently. “I’m not here to talk about the past or blame anyone,” he paused, letting out a breath before continuing. “I just want us to go back to who we were before we were together. But, if I’m being honest, we’ve been in love with each other for so long that I can’t remember a time when you weren’t my everything.”

Your lips trembled. The weight of his words was too much for you to handle, at least today, in a first encounter where you haven’t even spent ten minutes together.

You felt awful. You felt shattered inside knowing that if you were in this situation, it was because of you.

“Well, Y/N, tell me…”

“No, no,” you quickly interrupted, grabbing his arm and guiding him to sit on the couch. Immediately after, you rushed to the kitchen to grab the drinks and snacks you spent all morning preparing. “You tell me first. Even though I’ve seen you on TV, I know you’re very private about your life, you know... You never share anything with the media, and well, you don’t even have social media so… How are you?”

He let out a short laugh as he picked up a bottle of water and a cheese-and-salmon toast.

“Well, to be honest, I’m doing much better than when you left me,” he revealed. It didn’t surprise you. After all, it was what you expected him to say. “You must have had your reasons for breaking up with me, and after all these years, I’m not going to ask why you did it. But I won’t lie to you… you left me shattered, Y/N.”

“Seb, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“I know,” he cut in softly, making a gentle gesture with his hand to calm you down. “Like I said, I’m not looking for an explanation or an apology. I just want you to know how I felt. Mentally… damn, Y/N, you broke me, and I completely lost myself, but at the same time, that’s what gave me the strength to win the championship in 2013,” he looked away from your eyes, shifting his gaze to the wall. Nervously, he started playing with his fingers. “All I could think about was you and that, maybe, there was a chance you were watching...”

“Of course I was, Seb,” you said softly, trying to hold back the tears and keep your composure. “No matter what happened, I never stopped watching or supporting you. I’ve always been, and will always be, your number one fan.”

He nodded, a bittersweet expression crossing his face.

“That year, everything I did was with the thought in mind that you were watching and, somehow, it helped me move forward. But… 2014 was when everything fell apart,” he admitted. “Red Bull wasn’t the same anymore, or at least, I didn’t feel the same way. I wasn’t winning, Daniel was beating me… I felt like I had lost everything, including you and, with time, I started to feel like I had no reason to stay with the team or maybe even in Formula 1. Until Ferrari offered me the contract.”

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Unlike any regular sports fan, you found out through Heike when you were out for a walk with Emily.

“When I was given the chance to sign with Ferrari in 2015... Y/N, really, that’s when I realized it wasn’t the end. That’s what I needed to move forward. I think I mentioned it to you on WhatsApp, but I don’t know if you remember…”

You swallowed hard. Of course, you remembered. He told you just before the news became public, before his mum told you, but you didn’t know how to answer him or if you really should do it. The demons in your head made you think it was a joke, even just an excuse to get closer to you. And you also felt that if he did sign with Ferrari, it would open a door you had closed because you weren’t ready to face the truth.

Just like you were doing now.

“I remember, yes,” you murmured, unable to look him in the eyes.

“When I didn’t get a reply from you I decided not to push it. That’s when I realized you didn’t want anything to do with me. Yet I kept sending you stuff as you might know…”

“That’s not it…” You could barely speak. You were as broken as he was. “I read the message, Seb, but… I burst into tears and didn’t have the strength to reply. I didn’t want to give you false hope when I wasn’t ready to… I didn’t want to hurt you more than I already had,” you confessed. “I knew that if I spoke to you again, I’d hurt you again. And I’d hurt myself too. I couldn’t do that to you, Seb.”

He nodded, looking for some kind of affirmation in your gaze.

“At first, I felt really out of place on the team, you know? And I felt that way for a long time,” he revealed. “It was completely out of my comfort zone, and I felt like I’d never fit in. But little by little, Kimi, Maurizio, and the team made me feel like family. It’s strange to think about it now, but I can’t imagine being with any team other than Ferrari.” You agreed with him, from what you had seen on TV, it was clear he felt that way. “Fighting for the world title with them this year and having a real shot at beating Mercedes… I never thought I’d get to this point.”

You looked at him with a mix of admiration and nostalgia. This was the Seb you knew, the Seb with ambition, who always desired more and more. The Seb who never gave up.

The Seb who didn’t break down, even when he had every reason to.

“I’m so proud of you, Seb. I’ve always been, and I always will be. Don’t forget that.”

“Of course, Y/N,” he looked uncomfortable. Quite a bit, actually. “Well… enough about me. You know I don’t like talking about myself… What about you? What have you been up to all this time? My mom told me a bit, and I’ve seen you a few times, but…”

More than not knowing what to say, you sensed he didn’t want to intrude too much into your life.

You swallowed, trying not to get more nervous than you already were, because now, you supposed, was the moment to tell him about Emily.

“Well, not much has changed, really,” you started, unsure of what to say. “I’ve been in Heppenheim the whole time, except for a couple of trips to Berlin, but nothing unusual,” you tried to smile, but your mind kept circling around the fact that you had to tell him you had a daughter. “I’ve been working at the bar and writing music. To be honest, since we broke up I’ve had a lot more inspiration.”

And since I gave birth to Emily, you thought.

Seb didn’t say anything. You figured he understood. After all, he had thrown himself into his career to cope, while you had poured your emotions into writing songs about the story you shared to cope with grief.

“Now things have changed a bit,” you continued, trying to sound more upbeat to push away the painful memories. “Ever since Red went viral… I swear, I uploaded it without expecting anything, but the reaction…”

“The song is amazing, Y/N. Of course it went viral.”

“I’ve been offered a record deal,” you blurted out. “A few years ago, I met Niall Horan at the bar. You know, the guy who was on that band, One Direction…” Seb nodded, his eyes wide, encouraging you to continue. “He told me he was traveling to find some inspiration for his solo career, and I guess Heppenheim seemed like a good place for him to visit.”

“Wait, wait… a record deal?”

“Apparently, Niall told his label that I was the voice behind Red, and, well… Capital Records offered me a contract,” you explained. “They called me to have a meeting in London, which is why we couldn’t meet up last time…”

His face was calm, unreadable, though his mouth had curved into a big smile. He didn’t seem surprised, and you knew there was a strong chance Hanna had told him everything.

If that was true…

“I hope you accepted, Y/N.”

“Well… actually, I didn’t. I turned it down.”

His smile faded for a moment, and his expression became completely serious.

“You turned it down? Why? Sunshine, this is an opportunity…”

“Yes, I know it’s an amazing opportunity, but I can’t accept it. Not right now.”

You figured this was the moment you should tell him the real reason behind rejecting such a big deal, which included a tour if you sold a certain amount of CDs.

Sebastian kept staring at you, which only made you more nervous. You tried to gather your thoughts, searching for the right way to tell him you had a four-year-old daughter, but you couldn’t find the moment.

You couldn’t just drop it on him now, after all, this was your first real conversation in almost five years.

“Y/N, darling…”

“I can’t take the risk when the only thing I’ve managed is to get one song out of all the ones I sent to the label to go viral,” you half-lied. It was true that you didn’t want to talk about it yet, but you were also insecure about your music. “As much as I’d love to have an album, to fill stadiums and have people singing along to my songs, I can’t take that risk.”

“But, Y/N…”

“I’m not sure all the songs on the album would be successful, Seb.”

“Y/N, you have no idea what you’re going to regret if you let this go....”

“No, Seb, I know exactly what I’m doing, really,” you shook your head, firm in your decision. “This is the best thing for me.”

And for Emily too, though you didn’t say that out loud.

Seb remained silent for longer than you would have liked, as if trying to process what you’d just told him. Then, he stood up, crouching down to your level, and taking your hands in his, he said:

“Alright. If you think your songs aren’t good enough, sing one of them to me.”

“What?” you asked, confused.

“If you turned down the record deal because you think your songs aren’t good enough for the world to hear, sing one of them to me.”

His tone, though calm, was direct and insistent.

“Seb… I can’t. I’m too embarrassed,” you laughed nervously.

“Come on, Y/N,” he said, gently rubbing your hands with his thumbs, just like he always did when your anxiety was at its worst. “It’s just me. I’m still the same after all these years.”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to let it go until you gave in. It was Seb, and he always got what he wanted from you, even when you didn’t want to. In the end, you gave in, carefully standing up from the couch and heading towards the piano at the back of the room, gesturing for him to follow you.

You carefully slided the bench back, lifting the lid as you sat down. You positioned your hands, starting to play the first few chords to warm up, ensuring your memory flawlessly recalled the piece.

“This is song number 5, like your driver number... It's called loml.”

You continued playing, finally giving way to the song.

Who's gonna stop us from waltzing Back into rekindled flames? If we know the steps anyway We embroidered the memories Of the time I was away Stitching, ‘We were just kids, babe.’ I said, ‘I don't mind, it takes time.’ I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed I felt aglow like this Never before and never since.

Your voice shook as you began to sing, but you kept going, holding on to what your ex-boyfriend had told you about how he knew it was about him. As you settled into the song, you started feeling more comfortable, just like you did when you used to sing for Seb. Though you couldn’t look at him because you were absorbed in the key, your fingers delicately moving over it, you could feel his eyes on you.

You shit-talked me under the table Talking rings and talking cradles I wish I could un-recall How we almost had it all Dancing phantoms on the terrace Are they second-hand embarrassed That I can't get out of bed? Cause something counterfeit's dead.

Tears started falling from your eyes as you approached the final part of the song. Memories of your shared history flashed through your mind like a movie. Your vision was completely blurred, and you felt a tightness in your chest that was overwhelming, making it hard to breathe, almost impossible to keep singing. Somehow, though, you fought to hold it together, just as you did the day you said goodbye to the man now sitting beside you.

Oh, what a valiant roar What a bland goodbye The coward claimed he was a lion I'm combing through the braids of lies ‘I’ll never leave’... ‘Never mind.’ Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire Your arson matches your somber eyes And I'll still see it until I die You're the loss of my life.

Silence filled the room as you played the final notes. With your hands still resting on the keyboard, you looked at Seb. Once again, you didn’t know what to say to him, and you knew he didn't either. He was motionless, running a hand through his hair, probably trying to process what he just heard.

Y/Ni, this song... it’s about us, isn’t it?”

“It might be,” you admited, unable to lie to him, at least not about this.

He sighed. You could tell he was affected; you knew it the moment his tears began to form, just as yours continued to flow.

“You should rethink the contract,” he said firmly. “This song deserves to be heard by more than just me, your parents, and Hanna.”

“I can’t, Seb. I just can’t…”

“Can I sit next to you?”

You looked up and saw him gesturing to the bench. Confused, not sure what to do or say, you shifted a little, making space, and he sat beside you. Seb didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you, offering a comfort that felt wonderful but also caused you to crumble a bit more inside.

You surprised yourself by resting your head on his shoulder.

“Why are you so determined to convince yourself you don’t deserve this opportunity?” His tone was soft, just like the way he stroked your hair. “Do you really think you're not good enough to be a successful singer?”

“It’s not about being good enough, it’s that I’m not,” you whisper,ed your throat tightening. “I’m not a good person, Seb, and it’s only a matter of time before I screw up again and hurt someone, just like I hurt you.”

“Does this… have something to do with the second date in your YouTube channel username?”

You stood your head up, staring at him in confusion while trying not to panic.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your username,” he repeated, moving closer. “I figured out that the numbers represent two dates. I know for sure that one of them is June 15, 2006, the day we started dating, but the other one… I don’t know what January 12, 2014 means for you because we weren’t talking by then, but it must be important. And based on what you just said…”

Your eyes widened in shock. You were paralyzed, not knowing how to react.

How could he have noticed something so… insignificant? How had he connected the dots and figured out the dates you had in mind when you created that account?

You thought this would be the perfect moment to tell him that the second date marks the birth of your daughter, the daughter you had together; that on that day, while you were in labor, he was at the hospital waiting for some exams results and he was talking to your dad, who couldn’t contain his excitement about his granddaughter’s arrival and had to keep it a secret from him.

But you couldn’t. Not yet. You need to regain his trust first. You and Seb needed to rebuild the kind of relationship you had before you became the love of each other’s lives.

“Seb…” you trailed off, unable to continue. “I swear, on everything that matters to you, I’ll tell you, but right now… I just can’t.”

He looked at you for a few seconds that felt like an eternity. You knew him better than you knew yourself, and you knew he was persistent, that he needed an answer, but you also knew he was respectful and wouldn't push you.

“That’s okay,” he said finally, a bit resigned. “I understand, it’s fine. I’m not asking you to tell me now if you’re not ready, but I want you to know that when you are, I’ll be here to listen.”

You looked at him, grateful, and nodded without saying anything else.

You both sat at the piano bench for a while, in silence, listening only to the sound of your breathing and the melody of the song replaying in your mind, as intrusive thoughts overwhelmed you.

“If I waited almost 19 years of my life to be your boyfriend, I can wait a little longer, it doesn’t matter the time you need, for you to tell me,” Seb finally spoke, and his words broke you a little more than you already were. “Let’s be friends again, what do you think?” he offered, giving you a small smile. “Let’s take things slowly, like maybe we should have done when we first started dating. You know…”

“Slowly, no problem,” you repeated, smiling back at him.

You felt a weight lift from your shoulders at his words. Maybe you were not at the peak of your relationship, and maybe you’d never got back there, but at least you were working together to turn your story into something new.

“You know what, Y/N? I’ve always felt like our story wasn’t over. I don’t just mean that romantically, but in a broader sense,” he said quickly. “We have a whole lot of history, and now is when we’re going to start writing our second book.”

“I know, Seb. I’ve been thinking the same thing ever since I said goodbye to you,” you confess. “That day, goodbyes were bittersweet, but I knew it wasn’t the end and that I’d see you again.”

Before the year ends. I’m telling Seb Emily is her daughter before December 31st.

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thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 1 month ago

Text

Fire on Fire Part. 3

Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Description: Aegon made a promise to his niece 6 years ago that he would marry her. Separated by distance and the passage of time, Aegon still intends to keep his promise to the only girl he ever loved. When Rhaenyra returns with her children to King's Landing, Aegon hopes to get Y/N to fall in love with him all over again but quickly learns her heart may not be so easily won. So ensues an elaborate game of cat and mouse which Aegon is determined to win.

Previous part Dividers by @zaldritzosrose

Writer's note: Hiiiii! I'd recommend reading the previous 2 parts for context of when they were teenagers but you could probably read this as a standalone. There will be future parts. I've played around with time, so Rhaenyra and her kids spend around a week at KL before the events of Lord of the Tides.

Warnings: female reader with Targaryen features, targcest (uncle and niece), sexual innuendo, Aegon being fairly toxic and possessive at points. Childhood friends to lovers to enemies to lovers vibes. Aged up characters. Will be canon divergent. Aegon isn't a rapist in this because if Ryan Condal can write fanfiction, so can I.

The sky looked just as it had when he'd watched Y/N disappear into it on her dragon 6 years ago. Standing at the entrance to the Red Keep, in the same spot he had that very day, Aegon could almost pretend that no time had passed at all until he saw her step out of the carriage behind her mother, his sister. And it felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him. She was still Y/N, with the same silver hair that shone like a thousand glittering stars and the singular beauty he could only describe as cutting. But she was more mature now, her features more defined, a woman rather than the girl he had known and loved. He was much changed, too, and he wondered for a moment if Y/N would even recognise him now. But she was not even looking at him. Her lilac eyes were trained upon his brother Aemond, fixing upon the eye patch that concealed his scar. Don't look at him, Aegon thought. Look at me. And that same possessiveness he'd long held towards Y/N, for as long as he could remember, simmered to the surface.

As if he'd called her name, her eyes met his, widening slightly in recognition. The world around them seemed to fade away as they stood gazing at one another, and Aegon felt an uncontrollable need to be close to her suddenly. He wanted to touch her face, trace its contours, and measure the passage of time in their subtle changes. He wanted to pull her to him and wrap his arms around her, to press her body against his and see if it still felt like something inevitable and completely right. He wanted to kiss her and see if those lips that could speak such cold words could still feel like fire against his. But most of all, he wanted to talk to her, to hear her speak his name again, to hear her say anything. Y/N had been the first and last person to truly understand him. They had always been one in the same, and he wanted so badly to feel that familiarity once again. A sharp pain in his ribs jolted him out of his stupor as Aemond not so subtly jabbed him in his side.

"Aegon, won't you greet our guests?" His mother's voice sounded terse and strained. She must have tried to get his attention several times before he'd heard her.

Hands clasped behind his back he inclined his head towards Rhaenyra first.

"It's good to see you again, sister, nephews."

And it was. A part of him had always wanted to be close to his elder sister, though the tense relations between his mother and Rhaenyra had rendered this but a wistful dream. And he'd had a close friendship with Jacaerys in childhood. Though, any residual affection he had could not extend to Lucerys. He'd cost his own brother his eye, and Aegon had long blamed the boy for his separation from Y/N. He turned to his niece again, once more finding himself lost in the depth of her eyes.

"Niece." It was almost embarrassing how tender the appellation sounded in his mouth, and Aegon knew this had not been lost on those around him for he could see Aemond wince out of the corner of his eye.

"Uncle." By contrast, Y/N's voice was cold and devoid of any emotion, her gaze steely. Aegon's heart plummeted. He'd expected her anger might have waned in the 6 years they'd been apart, that she might have missed him as he had her, though perhaps not as acutely. He'd been quite certain that he'd loved her a great deal more than she loved him. But he still remembered the promise he had made to her on that fateful day at Driftmark when he'd taken her first kiss. He had said that he would marry her one day. Aegon intended to keep this promise and vye for her heart all over again. He had wanted one girl and one girl only his whole life and if she were still a little angry with him he was prepared to weather the storm, to take her ire in his stride and forge a path back into her heart. With renewed determination, he quirked his lips up at Y/N in a smile that was full of intention. He couldn't feel too sorry to have her frown back at him. She'd always been particularly beautiful to him when angry, blazing with an intensity only the stars could manage.

At supper, he noted that Y/N took up her old spot opposite him as if by habit. Though she said but little, and nothing at all to him, he had observed a slight pinkening of her cheeks as he'd continued to try and catch her eye all evening, prompting a satisfied smirk from him which she seemed to bristle at, steadfastly avoiding his gaze from then on. It seemed his niece was determined to play hard to get. Aegon was all too willing to accept the challenge, thoughts whirring in his mind of how best to get Y/N alone so she would have to speak to him.

Aegon was up earlier than he thought he'd ever been in his life, dressing quickly before the sun had even risen. He paced the floors of his chambers in nervous anticipation until he saw the first pinpricks of sunlight break through the blanket of the early morning sky. Then, he briskly walked to his niece's old chambers, where she'd happily been installed once again, much to his pleasure since it was but a short distance from his own.

He leant against the wall beside her door, preparing to wait for her until she emerged to break her fast. She couldn't very well deny him her company if he just happened to be in the vicinity of her chambers and offered her his arm to walk her to the morning room. He jumped slightly as her door opened with a soft click, having become lost in his thoughts as he waited. Lost in thoughts of her in truth, of what dress she might wear, of how her maids might have arranged her hair, and how she might react to his being right outside her chambers. The reality was far from what he had pictured, her eyebrows pulling together and her expression taking on a blackness he misliked. He'd always been good at reading her emotions, for she always wore them on her sleeve around him. This emptiness was unnerving to him.

"Good morrow, uncle."

Aegon tried not to be ruffled by her indifferent tone, only investing his own with more energy.

"Good morrow, Y/N. I thought we might head to the morning room together. My mother and sister would be pleased to break their fast with you there." He didn't rightly know whether they would. He didn't care, but it wasn't a bad ruse.

Holding his arm out to her in invitation and drawing up the most charming smile he could muster, Aegon silently pleaded with her to take his arm.

"Please offer them my apologies. I don't much like to eat early in the morning. Besides, my mother has requested my presence in her chambers."

Aegon's face fell, his arm dropping back to his side limply as he watched Y/N speed down the hallway away from him. She was lying, that much he knew. She simply didn't want to be in his presence, and that knowledge sent a jolt of pain through him. For the first time, Aegon considered that he might not be able to win Y/N back. Perhaps he'd been foolish to think they could start right where they'd left off, despite their estrangement of 6 years. He realised that in trying to protect his mother and brother at Driftmark, and in so doing inadvertently call Y/N a bastard, he might just have lost her for good. It didn't help that she'd returned in the first place to reaffirm Lucery's right to Driftmark once the Sea Snake passed. But he couldn't believe that. He couldn't give up on her, not without a fight. They'd played many games as children. Now, they would simply play another. If Y/N wanted a game of cat and mouse, then he would be obliging.

"Just the princess I was looking for."

Aegon smirked as Y/N nearly dropped the book she was holding. The clever minx probably thought it unlikely he should find her in here. But she must have forgotten all of the times he'd sought her out in the library in their youth, when he'd first realised he was in love with her and would have done anything to be at her side. His mind wandered to the feeling of her hand running through his hair as she'd read.

"What for?" It took Aegon a moment to understand what she was asking, though he quickly shook himself out of his reverie. He was hardly going to win Y/N over if he continued to just stare at her stupidly.

"I was hoping to get your recommendations on some reading material." At her look of incredulity, he slowly moved towards her. As he got closer, he noticed her taking minute steps backwards, her back hitting the bookshelf behind her as he came to a stop right in front of her.

"You? You want to read a book."

Aegon smirked at her.

"Don't look so surprised. I read to you once, didn't I?"

As if by fate he spotted the familiar spine of the book he'd once read aloud to her when she was overcome by a wave of seasickness and barely able to keep her eyes open. His voice had lulled her into a peaceful sleep.

Placing one hand on the bookshelf on one side of her as if to steady himself, he reached across her body with his other arm to grab the book, effectively encasing her in his arms. At her sharp intake of breath he smiled to himself, presenting the book to her innocently.

Y/N sounded a little breathless as she spoke.

"You remember?"

Aegon stepped closer, shifting his hand so that his fingers just grazed her bodice. He spoke so lowly she couldn't have heard him had he not lowered his head until theirs were nearly touching.

"I remember everything."

Y/N only stared at him with wide eyes at first, but he caught her gaze flicker briefly to his lips. Experimentally, he trailed his fingers down her side. A feather light touch, he didn't want to push his luck. And then she was stepping away from him, turning to the opposite book case and grabbing a thick and dusty book, which she promptly shoved against his chest.

"I think you'll like this one better."

And with that, she was scurrying away from him once again, her footsteps echoing against the stone floor of the library as she fled.

Looking down at the red tome in his hands, Aegon laughed. No one had been able to exact such a genuine sound from him in years.

Of course, she'd hand him the Book of Holy Prayer. Gods only knew what tales she'd heard of him to think he'd have need of such a thing. He placed it back in its rightful place on the shelf, he reclaimed the romantic novel he'd dropped as Y/N had forcibly shoved his arm away from her. As he left the library, the book under his arm, he winked at the maester, who'd just entered holding a bundle of scrolls. It had likely given the poor old fellow quite a fright to see Aegon of all people coming from the library, more still with a book tucked under his arm.

Perusing the novel that afternoon gave Aegon an idea of how he could convince Y/N to spend some time with him. He thought in time she might come to appreciate the deviousness of it. As they sat opposite each other at supper once again he addressed her directly.

"Y/N, I wondered if you might play a game of Cyvasse with me on the morrow. We used to enjoy playing together as children and I can have a board set up."

He caught Y/N exchanging a glance with Rhaenyra before turning back to him.

"I apologise, uncle. But I don't remember the rules."

Aegon's smile only grew at her refusal. He'd anticipated as much.

"I'd be more than happy to catch you up to speed."

Another curious look at her mother prompted Aegon to think she might actually be asking for her permission. It was evidently denied.

"Alas, I don't think I'll have any free time for games tomorrow. But thank you for the kind offer, uncle."

Time to put his plan into action, Aegon thought.

Lowering his voice and leaning across the table so no one else could hear him, he played his card.

"Y/N I'm starting to think you don't want to spend time with me. In which case I might be forced to recite some passages from one of your romance novels as this evening's entertainment."

His threat seemed to have had the desired effect as she gawped at him, mouth hanging open like a fish. Though a very comely fish, Aegon thought. The novel didn't have anything too damning in its pages, but it did contain a few rather silly passages he was sure Y/N would rather not be aired publicly.

She whispered through gritted teeth.

"You wouldn't dare."

Aegon smirked.

"Oh, I would." He started to rise from his seat as if to address the rest of the family sat around the dinner table before she promptly stomped on his foot under the table.

He hissed in pain, glaring at her.

"Seven hells Y/N."

The raucous they were making had earned them several looks from his mother, and sister, but they quickly returned to their conversations as he smiled blithely back at them.

"I'll play a game with you if you keep your mouth shut. OK?"

Aegon smiled brightly at Y/N's acceptance of spending time with him.

"Excellent, that wasn't so hard was it? I'll come by your chambers tomorrow to get you."

Y/N glared at him the rest of the night, seemingly trying to scorch him and turn him to cinders beneath her gaze. Aegon was simply pleased to have her full and undivided attention on himself. She wasn't looking at his brother now. She was looking at him.

Aegon thought Y/N remembered the rules of Cyvasse pretty well, considering she was currently sat across from him and thrashing him. What had looked like a small victory for him had quickly turned sour as he glumly looked a the board.

Y/N was comparatively gleeful, with a self-satisfied look gracing her features.

"The rules seem to have come back to you, niece."

Taking another one nof his castles, Y/N leant back and smiled broadly at him.

"I think you're just bad at this game, uncle. Your problem is that you never have a strategy."

Aegon's hand hovered over the board as he considered his next move, but he looked across it into her eyes at her assumption.

"You'd be surprised. I'd say I have a pretty clear idea of what I want and what I have to do to get it."

His mouth upturned as he saw her swallow down a retort.

He gasped suddenly, pointing behind her at nothing at all. As she whipped her head around he quickly reached across the table separating them and made a grab for her trebuchet piece, concealing it within a closed fist. She turned back towards him with an air of suspicion, looking from him to the board and back to him again as he presumed an air of innocence.

"Ah, perhaps I was mistaken. I thought I saw..."

"What piece have you taken, Aegon?"

He grinned at her. That was the first time she'd said his name since she'd arrived.

He presented the piece to her, quickly retracting it when she made a grab for it.

"I'll give it back to you if you give me something I want in return."

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. He knew she was too competitive to abandon a game mid-play. She'd want to see it through and so she'd humour his request.

"What do you want?"

Aegon leant towards her, so close her breath was fanning his face as she followed his movements. He raised his free hand to curl a tendril of her hair around his fingers.

"I want you to take a stroll in the garden with me on the morrow." It seemed like the type of thing lovers would do in Aegon's mind, at least the type of lovers he'd read about in Y/N's books. So he thought she might like it. He wanted to do all of the things that happened in her books with her, if that was the type of love she sought. If she'd only let him.

Y/N let out a shuddering breath as if she'd been holding it waiting to hear what he'd request.

"Is that all?"

With a final stroke of her hair he dropped his hand and leant back in his chair.

"That's all."

"No."

Aegon quirked his eyebrow up, not having expected her refusal to such an innocent request.

"No?"

"I don't trust you. You're playing some game."

Aegon smiled coyly at her, weaving the piece he'd taken from her between his fingers.

"I thought we were both playing a game, my dear niece."

He didn't mean Cyvasse, and he didn't think she thought he did either.

With an agility he hadn't known she'd possessed, Y/N made a quick grab for the piece that was almost successful, though he pulled it back out of her reach.

"Give it to me, Aegon."

Ah, there you are, Aegon thought. That was his fierce girl, half savage and half his.

He reclined nonchalantly back in his seat.

"Come and get it then."

Her irritation with him plain to see on her face, Y/N rose and moved around the table to stand before him with her hand outstretched expectantly.

Aegon placed the trebuchet piece in her hand before quickly enclosing his hand over Y/N's and yanking her towards him. Not expecting his ruse, she fell into his lap with a shriek, and he quickly entrapped her in his arms. He grinned at her devilishly, more than a little pleased with this turn of events.

Y/N pushed against his hold, huffing in frustration as he didn't move an inch.

"Let me up, you swine."

"Only if you promise to go on a stroll with me."

Y/N glared at him wordlessly, though she stopped struggling, seeing it was futile.

Aegon tutted at her. "I'm quite comfortable like this and don't think I'll have any desire to move anytime soon. If you want your freedom, you'll have to give me what I want, I'm afraid. Is spending time with me really such an awful prospect?" He couldn't help the tinge of insecurity that came through in his words. Did she really hate him that much?

But it seemed to be that note which finally struck a chord with Y/N. Sighing with resignation and relaxing against him, Y/N looked at him sternly.

"Fine, but I will hurt you if you try to ravish me behind some bushes. I've heard about your reputation."

Aegon felt a levity in his heart again. He could see the smile Y/N was trying to conceal, hear the jest in her words.

"Oh darling, I wouldn't dream of it." He would. He definitely had. But he wouldn't tell her that. Instead, he finally released her from the cage of his arms and let her stand up, though he immediately bemoaned the loss of her.

Aegon had quickly captured Y/N's arm and wrapped it around his, firmly tucking her arm in the crook of his elbow as soon as he'd seen her enter the garden. He'd been worried for a short while that she wouldn't come at all. But there she was, utterly resplendent in the morning sunlight.

"Come then, Y/N. Tell me what you've been up to in Dragonstone these past 6 years."

Y/N looked up at him quizically.

"What do you want to know?"

Aegon responded immediately.

"Anything. Everything. Just talk to me."

And, finally, she did. Aegon didn't care if it was minutes or hours or days that passed because Y/N was speaking to him, laughing with him again, just as she had when they were children together. Everything was going a little too well, however, for Aegon was too busy staring at Y/N to realise he was walking them into a path of rose bushes. Evidently, she was too busy staring at him to notice either, giving Aegon only a few seconds to grab hold of her and turn her towards him before she fell into it. Regrettably, the rapidity at which he'd turned her had caused her dress to fan out and get caught in the thorns.

"Oh bother." Y/N had sighed exasperatedly, reaching down to untangle herself before Aegon had stopped her and crouched down himself.

"Allow me." This seemed like the sort of thing a romantic interest would do for his beloved in a novel. Aegon remembered Y/N had always like the part where the knight rescued the princess best.

To his surprise, Y/N only started swatting at him frantically.

"Aegon, get up. If anyone were to come across us and see you under my skirts, they'll think.."

"What? Oh, no I don't care if they think that."

"Aegon!"

"I'm just joking. You're being ridiculous. Anyway, I'll be quick."

He paused, unable to resist teasing her a little more when she was blushing so deliciously.

"But, if we were doing what you think your imaginary spectators would think we were doing, then..."

She grabbed a chunk of his hair suddenly, giving it a threatening tug.

"Aegon, I swear if you finish that sentence I'm going to shove your face in that rose bush."

He chuckled, happy enough to have her fingers in his hair. He redirected his focus back to the matter at hand, though her constant shifting made it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

"Stop squirming."

"I can't keep my balance."

Aegon pretended to sigh exasperatedly whilst hiding his smile. He patted his shoulder in invitation.

"Fine then, just sit on my shoulder while I do this." He could see Y/N looked sceptical at first, but she perched tentatively on his shoulder after a few moments, her hand resting on his back to support her.

The soft tread of footsteps had the both of them snapping their heads up to see Aemond turn the bend. He halted in his steps upon seeing them, although he quickly turned back in the opposite direction, his lips turned upwards in a smirk that seemed to say this was exactly the position he'd expect to find them in.

Y/N threw her hands up.

"Perfect."

Aegon reached up from detangling her skirts to pat her thigh reassuringly.

"Not to worry, my sweet. No one would expect you to throw your lot in with me."

She slapped his hand away, eyes narrowed.

"I'm not your sweet."

Aegon simply smirked at her.

"You're right. I do prefer you venomous."

Seeing that he'd left her speechless for once, he turned back to the thorn bush and, with one final tug, successfully untangled Y/N's skirts. He couldn't save the mesh, which was torn in several places.

Rising from his crouch, he didn't expect to see such a forlorn and despairing look on Y/N's face as she stared at her torn dress. He felt a jolt of panic rush through him that he'd actually offended her with his teasing, frightened her even...

"Y/N, look, I'm sorry if I upset you or frightened you. I was only teasing."

She waved away his apology, pointing towards her skirts.

"No, I'm used to you. It's my dress. The mesh is hard to come by and it was my absolute favourite."

Aegon immediately regretted not being even more careful, hating to have upset Y/N by ruining her dress.

"I'm so sorry Y/N. Can't it be mended?"

She shook her head softly, looking up at him with a smile devoid of any malice or sarcasm.

"I don't think so. But it's just a dress after all. Thank you for helping me, Aegon."

He bowed his head respectfully as she passed by him.

"Of course."

Aegon watched after her as she disappeared into the walls of the Keep. The dress clearly did matter to her, and so it mattered to him. In the hopes of remedying his error, the Prince went in search of the Keep's seamstress.

Viserys hadn't been best pleased to learn that whilst he was confined to his sick bed, Queen Alicent had not arranged for a banquet to be held in Rhaenyra's honour. This was an oversight he commanded her to resolve quickly. Thus, it was that in a few days hence the family would host a banquet with all the most important nobles in attendance. The whole affair seemed rather farcical to Aegon since this was hardly a friendly visit, with the succession to Driftmark hanging in the balance. He only hoped that the dress he had requested to be made for Y/N would be ready in time. The Keep's seamstress had assured him she would be able to get hold of the same diaphanous mesh material of the one he'd inadvertently torn. Aegon was anxious to please Y/N, to give her a reason to consider him again as a suitor for her hand. He had little doubt his mother and Rhaenyra would be steadfastly opposed to such a match for that had been the case when they were adolescents. But he wouldn't allow their petty arguments to keep him and Y/N apart any longer...provided Y/N felt the same. She seemed increasingly amenable to his advances, taking his arm when offered and allowing him to lead her to meals, and her manner was much warmer and familiar when they talked now than it had been only a few days ago. But he could tell there was still something amiss, a wall she had built up between them he was determined to break down.

On the morning of the banquet, the seamstress knocked on Aegon's door to show him Y/N's completed dress. He was satisfied with the outcome, the material was just as grand as her previous dress had been. He only hoped she'd think so, too, once she saw it. Perhaps she would even wear it later that evening. Before sending the seamstress off to Y/N's quarters with the dress, he quickly scribbled a note to his niece.

Quelos,

Please accept this dress as a replacement for the one I tore in the rose garden, along with my sincere apology. The material is as close a replica of your favourite gown as I could procure. I hope it will still please you and that you will wear it tonight at the banquet.

Aegon

Aegon had already drunk several cups of wine by the time Y/N entered the banquet hall, though it was her elegance and refined beauty that sent him stumbling back a pace rather than the alcohol. She was wearing the dress, and it fit her perfectly, swirling in burgundy pools of fabric around her with the intricately woven black mesh over the top. Returning his gaze to her face, he jolted slightly to see that she was already looking at him too and smiling softly. He felt himself smile back at her by reflex though as soon as he took a step towards her, his mother was calling for all the guests in attendance to take their seats. He made a beeline for the seat next to Y/N, roughly shoving Jacaerys aside and ignoring his cry of indignation.

Aegon heard Y/N trying to conceal a giggle with a cough, and smirked at her as he sat down. He turned to face her, leaning against his hand. "I take it you like my gift then?" Aegon was aiming for mild interest but he was genuinely curious to know what she thought of it. Smoothing the material out on her skirts, Y/N smiled brightly at him.

"I think it is very beautiful. Thank you. You didn't have to."

Aegon leaned further towards her.

"I wanted to."

The evening passed surprisingly pleasantly. Though Aegon didn't know if that was just because he was so preoccupied with trying to make Y/N laugh. He'd earned a pretty endearing snort from her with his impression of Lord Beesbury, much to her embarrassment. Though he did notice her continually glancing at his cup as he allowed a servant to fill it multiple times throughout the night. He normally needed to be drunk to get through these sorts of things, but Y/N's company made him want to stay sober, so he turned his goblet upside-down on the table, stopping a servant from filling it again. Y/N looked at him in surprise, her eyebrow quirked up. Aegon simply shrugged at her, though his ears perked up at something Rhaenyra had said at the other end of the table to his mother.

"The betrothal is all but arranged. There is just the matter of..."

Aegon's heart was thrumming in his ears, cold dread filling him. She couldn't mean Y/N? But the way Y/N was looking sheepishly down at her plate and refusing to meet his eyes all but confirmed it.

"Are you to be married?" Aegon could barely repress the rage he felt, gritting his words out.

Y/N nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Yes." By the sound of it, she wasn't too pleased about the arrangement either. Aegon grabbed Y/N's hand and pulled her up, ignoring her shocked expression, and he dragged her along with him to the centre of the banquet hall, where a dance was just about to begin.

"Dance with me." It wasn't a request. The time for patience was long passed. Aegon wasn't going to let Y/N slip away from him again to marry some other priggish Lord. He pulled her close to him, speaking lowly with anger lacing his voice.

"When were you going to tell me you were betrothed?"

Y/N looked surprised by his animosity.

"I didn't think it would matter to you. From what I've heard there are many other girls who've taken your interest since I left."

Aegon bristled. She didn't think it would matter to him.

"And we're you jealous? Like I was when you flirted with other lords and knights?"

"No, we no longer have any claims over one another. You can do as you please."

Aegon gripped her waist tighter.

"How can you say that? Is your heart still so hardened to me after what happened at Driftmark that you are blind to how I have pursued you ever since you returned? I apologised for what I said, sent you letters explaining why I had to say it. And you didn't reply to a single one." Aegon's voice was raw, thick with desperation. Y/N stared up at him in confusion.

"You sent me letters? I never received them."

Aegon felt his heart plummet. He had thought her lack of response meant that she hated him. To know she hadn't even read them was just as upsetting.

Aegon loosened his grip, holding her more gently.

"Then you don't know?"

"Know what, Aegon?"

"That I love you. I never stopped."

Y/N took a sharp intake of breath, searching his eyes for the truth in them, he thought. Then her gaze hardened again.

"I apologise if I have given you a false impression, uncle. But I am betrothed. I'm tired now, I think I'll retire for the evening."

Aegon was stunned by her coldness, her harshness after he poured his heart out to her. He was stunned only a short while before he shook himself out of his despondency. No, he didn't believe she no longer felt for him, and he wouldn't allow her to marry another man if there was any possibility of her returning his feelings. He followed her back to her chambers, not bothering to knock before letting himself in. Y/N jumped at the sound of the door opening, looking at him like he had three heads.

"What in the Seven Hells, Aegon! You can't be in here. Someone will see you."

Aegon shut the door behind him.

"I don't care. I need to know if you love him. That fool you said you're set to marry

Y/N shifted uncomfortably.

"I... like him. We like each other."

Aegon took broad steps towards her, stopping only when they were a hair's breadth from one another and placing a hand on her waist possessively.

"Like? Is that all you wish for, to be liked? You deserve to be passionately desired and fiercely loved." He tightened his hold on her for emphasis.

"It doesn't matter what I want. Mother has arranged it."

Aegon frowned.

"Of course it matters."

Y/n placed a hand on his chest to push him lightly away from her.

"What do you want from me Aegon?"

Aegon smiled sadly at her.

"You have to ask?"

Y/N shut her eyes briefly before fixing him with the full force of her gaze, which had long had the ability to bring him to his knees.

"We can't relive the past. Even if I wanted to. It's just too late." All Aegon could hear was that there was a part of her, however small that part might be, that still felt that frenetic energy between them. That wanted him too.

"I think we can. Maybe you'll fall in love with me all over again, if you give me a chance."

Y/N's eyes lit with something he couldn't place before immediately dulling into that blank mask of indifference he'd come to hate.

"Too much has happened. I think you should leave, Aegon"

Aegon grasped desperately at a reason to get her to just listen to him.

"Quelos, please." Her head snapped up, eyes locking with his. In them, a tenderness he'd not seen in years. He nearly sighed with relief at the sight of it.

"No one else calls me that."

Aegon approached her again, though he did not touch her this time.

"You are very like a star. In it's beauty and light. In is cold indifference and untouchable distance from mere mortals like me."

"I'm not indifferent to you." Y/N's reply was so instantaneous he scarcely caught it.

"What?"

"I said I'm not indifferent to you." Y/N was looking at him with such an affectionate expression, Aegon felt his heart was fit to burst. This was as close as she'd come to admitting she still held any feelings for him other than resentment at all.

"That's good. Because I find myself quite often overwhelmed with how much I feel for you. I always have an excruciating need to be near you. To talk to you, even when I have nothing to say. I think I have wished for you and nothing but you my whole life." He whispered the last, as if fearing that voicing his confession any louder would shatter this fragile understanding between them.

He hadn't realised how close he'd come towards Y/N, if he leant forward only a little their lips would touch. He also hadn't realised she was clutching his tunic, pulling him towards her even when she was trying so desperately to send him away.

"Are you telling the truth?" And for once Y/N looked insecure. Had she thought his feelings a lie after Driftmark or had she thought they would change?

"Yes, nuha quelos."

Her eyes widened. He'd never called her "his star" before.

Caught up in her beauty and the growing suspicion she might just feel the same for him, he made to kiss her only to have his head snap back violently when she slapped him.

"Seven hells! What are you? Dragon or girl?"

Holding his throbbing cheek, he relented in his anger as he looked up to see Y/N holding a hand over her mouth, her eyes alight with fear. He softened his voice, dropping his hand from his face so she didn't think she'd seriously hurt him.

"It's alright, Y/N. That was my fault. If you don't want me to kiss you, then I won't."

"But I did want you to kiss me."

Aegon blanked, then threw his hands up in confusion.

"Then why did you slap me, you infuriating woman?"

Y/N shuffled towards him sheepishly, tentatively raising a hand to stroke the red mark she'd left on his cheek.

"Since the day that you first kissed me...I have never been close like that with anyone else. I panicked."

Aegon held her hand in place over his cheek.

"Why?"

Y/n turned her gaze to the floor.

"I didn't want it with someone who wasn't you."

Aegon felt his heart stumble at her words. Smiling tenderly at her, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger to gently turn her gaze back to him.

"Good. I'd kill a man if I knew he'd touched you."

Y/N fixed him with a rueful glare.

"That's hardly fair. I'm supposed to be fine with you whoring yourself about the Red Keep, chasing after every skirt you see?"

Aegon smirked at her.

"So you do care?"

When she made to move away from him in annoyance, he quickly gathered her back into his arms, speaking affectionately to her to make up for his past deviances.

"It is you who has my heart. Who has always held it."

Y/N melted against him, though she still looked a little unsure.

"I don't know what to do."

Aegon stroked her cheek

"I'll teach you."

He leant down slowly, routinely searching her eyes for any doubt, any hint she didn't want him to kiss her. As she tilted her head up to meet his, he pressed their lips together. After a few moments, she began to respond, and it was just like it had been in their youth. Each brush of her lips against his felt like a fire burning through him and like a wound knitting together all at once. It didn't matter to him that she was inexperienced. He only wished he hadn't bothered kissing any other girl's lips. When she pulled away to catch her breath, he pressed their foreheads together, wanting to maintain this closeness between them.

"What did you write in your letters?"

Aegon chuckled at her sudden curiosity, entangling his fingers in her hair.

"Mostly, I was just begging you to forgive me for what I said at Driftmark, telling you I loved you and that I missed you."

Y/N stroked a hand across the plane of his chest.

"I missed you too."

Nuha quelos~my star

Quelos~star

Tagging:

@callsignwidow @lady-dragon-rider

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen oneshot #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen fanfiction #aegon the second #king aegon #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon

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marvelwitchergilmore · 6 months ago

Text

Wedding Invitations

Summary: Colter Shaw x Fe!Reader -> You and Colter have known each other since you were 15. He was there to help you once, and he's here to help you now.

Disclaimer: This may end up being a two parter. Light swearing, jerk exes, protective Colter, friends to lovers vibes kinda, little angst, sad fluff, cute fluff, happy-ish ending I guess. Not proof read.

Colter didn’t know what to do, exactly, when Reenie called him and said you needed him.

All he knew was that within five minutes, he was turning back down the highway and headed straight for your home.

A thousand and one things ran through Colter’s mind as he sped down the road. Were you in danger? Have you been hurt? How bad was it?

However, when Reenie called him back and explained what had happened, he felt his heart sink a little.

The last time he had seen you, you had just started dating a guy. It seemed to be going well and you seemed happy enough. Last time he had talked to you, you were elbow deep in wedding invitations, asking him over the phone if he could make it since it was a lot easier than finding an address he’d be at long enough.

And that was just last week.

By the time Colter pulled up outside your home, the second car he usually saw in the background of your facetime, was gone. Your car was still there, so you were definitely home.

Small lights led up the path to your home before the porch light lit up the deck. However, save for a lamp or two, no lights were on inside the house.

He knocked, but no answer came.

So he tried the garage door.

It slid up instantly and when Colter got a look inside, it looked like someone had left in a hurry. Most of what was left was…wedding stuff.

He had to force the door open, but it wasn’t long before he was inside the house.

It smelt of you. Which was an odd comfort for him.

It was like the perfect mixture of blueberry pie, cinnamon and…warmth.

Colter made his way through the house, calling out your name.

There was broken glass on the floor, with a can of unopened soda sat on the coffee table. It was no longer cold and most of the condensation was already sinking into the wood beneath it.

Colter called out your name again.

In the kitchen, he found…blueberry pie.

A slight smile came to his face, before he continued to check the house.

As he climbed the stairs, he began to hurry his steps, searching the rooms until from down the hallway, he spotted the open door to the bathroom.

The closer he walked, the clearer his view became.

There you were.

With your arms balanced on your propped up knees, your head was down and your eyes were closed, tears rolling hot down your cheeks. In your hands, you clutched onto a towel from where you’d dried your face earlier.

Colter walked closer and waited for a moment by the door.

“Well…this feels oddly familiar.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to look up.

And Colter felt his heart break.

You were still crying, but you just looked…beat. Ready to sleep. Ready to cry some more. Ready to just…fall.

Maybe you already had.

“Yeah. Kinda.”

Without a second thought, Colter rushed inside and came and sat beside you. He pulled you inside his side, and you moulded directly into him. You hadn’t realised how cold you were until you were met with the heat of his body and the warmth of his touch.

With a head on his chest, he curled his hand around and placed it on top of your head, almost shielding you from the world.

This wasn’t unlike almost twenty years ago when, after sneaking out to go to a friend’s party (despite the fact he’d already been pulled out of school), Colter found you.

You’d both been partners in History class. And you’d had a small friendship, at least. This also included him knowing who you had a crush on, even if you wouldn’t tell him.

So, when he had lost track of you at the party, only to find your crush making out with the girl who was meant to be your best friend, he knew why you had disappeared. At least, that was what he suspected.

And he wasn’t wrong.

He found you in the top floor bathroom which no-one went to since it was so far up, and if you were that desperate for the bathroom, you wouldn’t have made it to the top of the house.

When he found you, you had been slumped down on the floor, crying your eyes out.

However, compared to then, when your emotions and your voice were also uncontrollable and constant after such an early heart break…it was no longer like that.

Or, at least, on the outside it wasn’t.

When you spoke, despite the constant flowing tears, your voice was shaky but pressured to be even. And by the way you were clutching onto the towel in your hands, that told Colter it was taking everything in your to not break down. To not scream, or cry too loudly, to not sob, to not shake.

However, that last one was becoming more difficult to control.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Colter asked, finding your eyes.

“In a minute. Can you just keep hugging me?”

Colter nodded before pulling you closer, resting his chin on top of your head and squeezing your tighter in his arms.

After a good ten minutes, your tears finally stilled long enough for you to take a deep breath and move back.

“Thank you for coming.”

“You never have to thank me for coming to you.”

You nodded, avoiding his gaze for a moment before sitting up as best as you could.

“I didn’t see it coming.”

Colter just sat and watched and listened as you told him everything that had happened.

“I was at work, grading papers, when he called. He said to come home, instead of going to the wedding venue after work. We were going to sign the final papers. Everything had been confirmed, it was just a final formality.”

“I thought it was a little weird, but when I came home…all of his boxes were packed. And I mean…everything. Every record, every picture, every book, every…thing. It was all packed. Hell, it was even labelled!”

You had to laugh before you cried again. You touched a finger to your eyes, wiping a small tear away from the edge of your eye.

“Apparently, he’d been feeling lost for a couple weeks. Weeks! He didn’t even say anything. He didn’t even…show anything. Everything was normal. We were happy. And…” you took a deep breath, but Colter just waited for you to continue.

“And then he got a call. And I knew. He didn’t even answer it. Just…let it ring. It was so silent, Colter. Just knowing that he was moving on, had moved on before even moving out. I…didn’t even…we were meant to be getting married, Colter. We’ve been together for eight years and to just…leave…”

Colter rubbed his hand up and down your arm, feeling how cold you were.

“How about I make you some tea? Reenie always says that can help? And maybe get you a sweater, you’re freezing.”

“After he left I just…I don’t even remember.”

Colter nodded, standing up before lowering his hands to help you up from the floor.

Twenty minutes later, Colter had boiled the water and made you both a cup of tea before ordering food.

He might not have gotten to see you often, but you’d both talked long enough over the years that he had learnt that when you graded papers you tended to get a little caught up and miss dinner. And considering what had transpired after you got home from work, it didn’t take a genius to figure out why your stomach was rumbling.

It was also in those twenty minutes that Colter came to learn more about your now ex-fiance.

He’d been feeling ‘lost’ for a few weeks, until he met a woman at work. She was a consultant that had come into town for a few days before flying back out to Sydney. Turned out they had grown up two towns apart when they were kids, so had a lot in common. They got to talking and…it grew from there.

On the rare occasion work got caught up, he was actually with her. On dates, laughing and smiling and kissing and just…

“So, what happens now?”

“He’s moving to Sydney,” you told him. “His flight leaves tomorrow. All his boxes were being taken to a storage unit in town. His assistant is gonna make sure they’re shipped over.”

“Did he move them all out himself?”

You shook your head. “Movers came in. It’s odd…they knew my relationship was ending before I did.”

“I am sorry,” Colter told you.

“What for? You didn’t suddenly break up with me, did you?”

“No, but I’m still sorry.”

“Thanks, Colt.”

You took his hand in yours for a moment, until the bell rang.

“That’ll be the food. I’ll get it.” Colter said before standing, quickly kissing your forehead and disappearing down the hall and towards the front door.

However, after five minutes of hearing distant talking, you heard the door shut.

It took you a moment, but you looked behind you and followed the same path as Colter. The pizza box and bag of other items were by the door and Colter was…outside?

When Colter got to the door, the Pizza Guy was balancing the other random take-away bits on top.

“Here, let me-”

“Thanks, man.”

“How much do I owe you?”

“25.”

“Here you go.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Yeah.”

However, as the Pizza Guy walked down the porch and back to his car, Colter spotted a slightly familiar car down the road and a somewhat familiar face walking towards the house.

Leaving the food by the door, Colter walked outside immediately and headed straight for the guy.

“Hey, no, turn around.”

“Excuse me?” The guy stopped in his tracks.

It took him a moment to recognise the face in front of him.

“C…Colter?”

“Hi, Jonathan. Turn around.”

“What-”

“You’re not welcome here.”

“This is my house!”

“No, this was your house.”

“Same thing.”

“Actually, it’s not. See, ‘is’ suggests that you still live here. However, considering you moved all your stuff out earlier today, I’d say that signifies enough to say you don’t live here anymore.”

“Can I at least talk to her?”

“And say what?” Colter asked, stopping Jonathan in his tracks. “That you’re sorry. She’s not gonna want to hear it.”

“How would you know what she wants? You don’t even see her!”

“That’s your excuse? That's because I don’t see her, I don’t know her? You’ve got to have a better come back than that. You know what, I’ll give you another shot. Tell me why I wouldn’t know what she wants.”

Jonathan took a moment, but when nothing came to him, he sighed. “Look, man. I just want to clear the air here and give back my key.”

“And you didn’t think to leave that behind when you packed up your stuff?”

“I just thought-”

“I can give it back to her.”

“I’d prefer-”

“You don’t get a say in this, Jonathan. You were the one to walk out. If you wanted out, you could have at least been a decent human and talk to her, rather than dumping all of this on her on a random Friday.” Colter explained before he paused. “Actually, not that random. On a Friday you were meant to sign off on your wedding venue.”

“Look, man, I already feel as bad as it is-”

“Good.”

Jonathan seemed to get a little offended at Colter’s bluntness.

“Look, man-”

“If you think you’re getting off lightly here, you’re not. You broke her heart. You spent the last eight years together and in a few hours you end everything. You pack up your shit, you print out plane tickets, you tell her you’ve met someone else. Do you even know what you had?”

“Look, man-”

“Say ‘Look, man,” one more time and I’ll do her a favour and start throwing the punches she didn’t earlier.” Colter’s gaze darkened and he seemed to grow broader.

“Look-” Jonathan paused. “Colter. I understand you want to help her but this is really between herself and I.”

“Maybe.” Colter agreed. “Maybe before you pulled this crap but the second you hurt her, that was the second it became my business. Now, I’m sure your new girlfriend is lovely but Y/n? You’ll never meet anyone like her, ever. And you just let her go. Stupidly, might I add.”

“Jees, don’t hold back.” Jonathan tried to laugh.

“Oh, I won’t.”

You watched the two men fall silent for a moment before speaking up.

“Colter?”

Colter’s entire posture and gaze softened for a moment as he turned back and looked at you.

“Yeah? Oh, yeah. Just..give me a minute?”

That was something you were thankful for. You and Colter sometimes never had to speak, you just knew what the other was thinking.

However, Jonathan called your name.

“Wait-”

“Fuck you, Jonathan!” you held up your middle finger, bringing the pizza box back inside before closing the door.

“She doesn’t have to speak to me like that?”

Colter had no words. Just a look, mostly made of confusion.

“I think it’s best if you leave, and don’t come back.”

“Hey, hey, wait! Just wait a minute! I need to talk to her. I need to clear the air.”

Colter sighed. “I’ll do you this one kindness. Tell me what you want to tell her, and I will tell her. Because you’re not getting within ten feet of that house. Not after what you did.”

“It’s not like I cheated on her!”

“Except that you did.” Colter was finally getting Jonathan closer to his car, even if it was through physically moving him.

“I waited until after I left to ask Jen to be my girlfriend.”

“Because that makes a difference?”

“It does!”

Colter sighed, “Jonathan, just do everyone a favour and shut up?”

“But-”

“Don’t come back here.”

It took a second but Jonathan finally got back into his car before handing the key over to Colter. “Just…tell her I never meant to hurt her.”

“Too late for that.”

Jonathan couldn’t say anything else so rolled up his window and drove off.

Colter stood in the middle of the street for a few minutes watching his car roll down the street before turning the corner and heading for the highway.

When he walked back inside, he found you sitting on the sofa.

“What did he want?”

“To give you this back.”

You turned to look at Colter. It was the spare key to your house.

“You can just leave it on the side.”

After a few minutes, Colter finally sat beside you on the sofa, handing you a soda. You lay your head on his shoulder and stared up at the TV screen.

“I feel really crap.”

Colter nodded slightly. “I know Reenie would probably tell you to get up and, I don’t know, go out and get drunk but if you just want to eat junk food and fall asleep, I can support that. And then go out, if you want to do that too.”

You smiled for the first time since you came home. “Junk food and sleep sounds really good right now.”

“Okay then.”

It took a couple minutes to find a film before you both landed on an old showing of a classic hollywood movie. You couldn’t remember the title, but when you'd finished your food and talking to Colter about whatever case he’d been on before Reenie called him, you found yourself falling asleep.

And when you woke up in the morning, something felt different.

You weren’t in your bed. You weren’t in your bed with Jonathan. You were on the sofa. Snug in the crook of it. With half of your body on…a sleeping Colter.

He looked so peaceful.

The sun was still slowly coming up and by the clock on the wall, it was around seven thirty in the morning. Stupid body clock.

You groaned a little and fell back into the warmth of Colter, your head on his chest. His grip on you tightened for a moment before it settled again and you found yourself just listening to the repetitive rhythm of his heartbeat.

Every now and again, your mind would replay the events from the day before. Getting the call, coming home, watching the movers, listening to Jonathan’s voice telling you your future together was over, just like that. Waiting for them to leave whilst you remained in the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water and drying it. Getting the final knock on the bathroom door from one of the movers. Jonathan seemed to be searching for you for a moment and for a split second, you thought he was going to yell “wake up” as if you’d fallen asleep marking papers. But you hadn’t. It was real, and he was asking for his ring back. It took you a moment, and taking it off your finger felt foreign. Strange. Like an out of body experience.

And then it was over.

You were alone.

In a home you thought was going to be yours and Jonathan’s. One where maybe you could start a family one day.

But that was all shattered.

Until Colter.

When he walked into the bathroom, you had a flashback to being fifteen again and crying over a boy in a bathroom at a party. Except this time, you’d spend eight years of your life with this guy and your wedding invitations and seating chart and placements were all in storage in the garage.

And when he hugged you…you knew it would be okay.

You didn’t know if you’d be feeling better the next day, or the day after that or even in a week’s time. Eight years was a lot to throw away in the space of a couple of hours.

But you knew it would be okay.

Colter reassured you with that.

By the time he woke up, him looking at you with a slightly dazed look, you both just lay there for a moment.

“I’d apologise for falling asleep on you, but I don’t think I’m sorry. You’re a decent pillow.”

Colter chuckled. “Thanks.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, but also not.”

“Want breakfast?”

“Not right now.”

“I’ll make pancakes?”

“Eggs are in the fridge.”

Colter chuckled lightly at that before moving his arm from around your back, kissed your head, and slowly sat up. He couldn’t lie. He got a decent night's sleep often, but nothing like that.

“Chocolate chips are in the cupboard.” You called out as he rounded the sofa and walked towards the kitchen.

After a moment you heard; “Got em’.”

Colter stayed for two weeks.

Mostly because he found a case in town nearby. But also because he rarely got to see you and he was helping you.

It was tough, calling the caterers, the venue, the officiant, the florist. It was even tougher calling all the friends and family.

Your family insisted on coming up to see you, but you reassured them you’d be okay. You’d come and see them soon, but until then you just needed some space. Some alone time.

“And you don’t need alone time with me?” Colter asked.

“You don’t ask questions like ‘how could you let this happen?’ and ‘what about my future grandbabies?’ and ‘you know your cousin’s wedding is coming up, we can always tell friends of the family Jonathan is on a business trip’.”

Colter looked a little confused.

“One on my dad’s side. She’s not exactly…thrilled about single women when they could have had the whole ‘big white wedding’.”

Colter shrugged his shoulders, “I could always go with you.”

You laughed a little. “Colter, you don’t have to do that. Also, I’ve been trying to get out of going to that wedding for months. This gives me the perfect excuse.”

“Well, the offer’s always there.”

You smiled. “Thanks.”

“What about this one?” Colter asked, showing you a photo.

“Put it in the maybe pile.”

You were hunting through all your photos to find ones to put in the now empty picture frames. After a week, Colter had found you going around the entire house at three in the morning, emptying all of the frames that held any pictures of yourself and Jonathan.

By the time you finished, you carried the last of the boxes from the garage to the attic with Colter’s help.

However, that just left the wedding stuff.

“What do I do with it?”

“It’s extreme but you could burn it?”

You turned to Colter. “Did Reenie text you?”

“Yeah.” He admitted.

You turned back to the box. “It’s not a terrible idea. Though, I don’t have anything to burn them in for such a big quantity. I do have a shredder. Yep, that’ll have to do.”

For the next two hours Colter handed you each placement card and wedding invitation to shred.

And it was there, sitting behind your sofa on the floor, with Colter, shredding wedding invitations, that you knew you’d be okay.

It might take a while, but you’d be okay.

#tracker #colter shaw #colter shaw x reader #colter shaw tracker #colter shaw x fe!reader #tracker disney plus #fluff #angst #friends to lovers #old friends to lovers #two parts #justin heartly #justin heartly colter shaw #tracker cbs #tracker tv show #tracker x reader #reenie

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knaccblog · 1 year ago

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Aziraphale and "I Forgive You"

So after I watched the first season a few times however many years ago, I noticed something, wrote up a bit of a meta about it and then never posted it. I thought that it was either very obvious or very silly and either way, no one needed to see it. But now it's several years and another season later and again, I'm noticing the exact same thing so here it goes- I think the reason Aziraphale keeps saying that he forgives Crowley has overall very little to do with what Crowley has just done right before Aziraphale says it and much more to do with a secret Aziraphale hides deep within himself and has for thousands of years, a truth that he hates to acknowledge and is terrified to speak aloud: he thinks God is wrong to have not Forgiven Crowley.

Get settled in because this is gonna take a bit.

The first time I started noticing this really clearly is the Bandstand Breakup scene. Crowley starts by cussing God literally out- "For the record, great, pustulant, mangled bollocks to the Great blasted Plan." To which Aziraphale says, "May you be forgiven." And yes, Crowley has just sinned and Aziraphale is a stuffy angel but the way Aziraphale says it is like a hope, atleast to my ears. Like he's really wishing that God will see how good Crowley truly is and bring him back to Heaven even though he keeps doing stupid stuff like this

Anyway, Crowley then responds with, "I won't be forgiven. Not ever. Part of a demon's job description. Unforgivable. That's what I am." And Aziraphale responds again with a hopeful sounding, "You were an angel once." At this point, I was almost sure that he's talking about his personal wishes here. It sounds like he's saying, "Come on, Crowley. There's a chance." To which Crowley responds, "That was a long time ago," basically saying it's impossible and shutting that whole bit of the conversation down. And you can just watch Aziraphale's face fall at that, like it kills him for that to be true.

The next time the topic of forgiveness and Crowley comes up is when Crowley shows up to beg Aziraphale to run away with him one last time. In this conversation, Aziraphale is very adamant that if he talks to the right people, they won't want the apocalypse and they'll stop it. He, of course, thinks this because his most core belief is that God is good and that even if we don't understand how what God is doing is good right now, it will lead to goodness eventually via the Rube Goldburg machine which is time and the universe etc aka God is ineffable. But even Aziraphale can't imagine how the ineffable Rube Goldburg machine could turn an event where everything on earth dies into a good one so therefore, he's certain that God doesn't want the Apocalypse.

Crowley responds to this hope with, "You're so clever. How can someone as clever as you be so stupid?" to which Aziraphale responds, "I forgive you" in a very gentle but sure tone. And now yes, while it is entirely possible that Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for calling him stupid, I've always felt like that would be a rather weighty response considering how mild an insult it is. It's also possible (and I feel slightly more likely) that Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for his lack of faith, his inability to believe in the goodness of God anymore.

And that could definitely be it, but if we think about the way Aziraphale had talked about forgiveness at the Bandstand, the hope and desire that he seemed to put into the idea of forgiveness and Crowley and the fact that Crowley had dismissed it as entirely impossible for him to ever be forgiven, than a third read of Aziraphale's "I forgive you" emerges: one in which Aziraphale is saying, "While God might never forgive you, I do". It's "I might never see you again since you intend to run away to the stars but if this is the last time I ever see you, I want you to know that I think you are deserving of forgiveness. That I see the good in you even if God can't." It's a combination "I love you" and small rebellion against God, because while Aziraphale can't bring himself to give up on Her completely and run away with Crowley (even though a part of him clearly wants to), he is willing to say that She's done this one thing wrong and it's never forgiving Crowley, who Aziraphale can see clearly is more kind and good than any of the angels he knows.

So yeah, that was about where the idea rested at the end of the first season but now we have a bunch of new historical scenes and a new "I forgive you" following a very loaded conversation in which Aziraphale got extremely excited by the idea of Crowley being reinstated as an Angel and I felt like this idea has even more legs than before.

To me, it's very clear that Aziraphale's pitch for Crowley to come back to Heaven isn't him hoping to "reset" Crowley to how he was before the Fall or him being incapable of loving Crowley as a Demon and instead was him being overjoyed to have this secret truth (Crowley is deserving of God's Forgiveness) that he's been observing for 6000ish years be acknowledged and have a chance to come to fruition. After all, as we saw this season (and honestly last season too but less pronounced), Crowley, current Demon Crowley, not the angel he knew over 6000 years ago, has proven over and over again just how truly good he is to Aziraphale.

For example, in the Job sequence, Crowley does a truly good thing that no Angel (beside Aziraphale) would do or even think that they should do and that is save Job's children. And through the entirety of this bit, Aziraphale basically always believes that he will. There are even two moments where Crowley tries his best to scare Aziraphale away, to play up being the bad guy (so as to better hide the con he's running and protect Aziraphale), but Aziraphale's faith in Crowley's goodness does not falter. At the end of the day, it seems clear that Aziraphale has more faith that Crowley will do the good thing, the correct thing than God. Conveniently for Aziraphale's faith in God though, not understanding how something horrible he hates will eventually lead to goodness in the long run is a foundational principle of said faith so his faith in God remains strong even after everything She and Heaven do to Job.

But his faith in Crowley doesn't require such a complicated work around. He believes Crowley won't kill children and he is correct. Though unfortunately, this very simplicity leads to a new problem, a problem that we can see eventually solidify in Aziraphale's mind, becoming a running theme of their association and leading to the eventual "I forgive you"s.

Aziraphale can clearly see how kind and good Crowley is, how he does the right thing as best he can, even when he could (and sometimes does) get into immense trouble for it. But for some reason, despite repeated evidence that Crowley is everything that Aziraphale believes Angels are and should be, Crowley continues to be a Demon. And once you realize that Aziraphale has noticed this contradiction and that it most likely haunts him and is a constant challenge to his worldview, it colors a lot of what he says in a new light. Many of what seem like simple, self-righteous statements reveal themselves to be Aziraphale trying to protecting himself from a massive logical inconsistency he keeps stumbling across.

"It must be bad, otherwise you wouldn't have tempted them into it," Aziraphale says, clearly not quite sure why it's bad actually.

"You, I'm afraid, are evil," Aziraphale asserts, basically stating that Crowley is evil because he's evil. It's tauntological and therefore doesn't have to make sense. (He says this one shortly before Crowley saves Elsbeth from suicide, poverty and damnation.)

"So this is all your demonic work? I should have known," Aziraphale says, thinking, "Aha, this time Crowley must have done the bad thing and therefore continues to deserve being Fallen." (Crowley has, in fact, not done the bad thing but shhhh, worry about that later.)

Once you notice this self defensive habit, you can't unnotice it really, it's just so present in Aziraphale's logic and speech. Aziraphale even at one point says, "Still a demon, then?" after the Ark and Job and Jesus because on some level he probably doesn't want to actually evaluate, it makes no sense to him that Crowley is still a Demon, especially when he has also sinned in a few ways (lied to Gabriel, thwarted the will of God, technically gluttony etc) and nothing has happened to him, to say nothing for all the things Gabriel has done (or has just let passively happen without a thought to interfere).

So yes, I think the entire final argument plays out the way it does because Aziraphale thinks Crowley is good and deserves to be reinstated, to be forgiven by God more than anything.

He comes into their final conversation nervous but excited, to the point where he stomps right over what Crowley is trying to say. "You see I... I have some incredible good news to give you." The good news is for Crowley, you see, because Crowley deserves this and clearly being forgiven like he so deserves should logically make Crowley happy. It will make Aziraphale happy after all.

Aziraphale then starts to describe the conversation that he had with Metatron, stating that he thinks he might have misjudged him. And why would he think that he misjudged the angel who had told him point blank to his face that "The point is not to avoid the war, it is to win it" about the Apocalypse? Well, it's not because he's offered the job of Supreme Archangel, that's for sure. As we can see in the flashback, Aziraphale seems nervous and uninterested in the job at first. He says clearly that he doesn't want to go back to Heaven and even brings up a very half assed excuse to try and weasel out of it, a soft no of, "Where will I get my coffee?"

No, instead, the clear, obvious point where Aziraphale changes his mind about the job and about the Metatron is when he offers to reinstate Crowley as an Angel. Metatron has, quite accidentally (I think? I don't think he actually knows Aziraphale's secret soul), just said one of the most faith affirming things he possibly could to Aziraphale, "We can correct that little error that's been bothering you. You are completely correct that Crowley deserves God's forgiveness."

Given that, it's understandable that Aziraphale is absolutely bubbly about Crowley's reinstatement when he mentions it to him, like the best thing ever has just happened to him even though he's talking about something that will happen to Crowley and not him at all. "You could come back to heaven and- and everything. Like the old times, only even nicer." (Nicer because this time, they are in love. Nicer because they'll both be powerful enough to make a difference.)

Some other bits of Aziraphale's dialogue from this scene that make so much sense through this lens are:

After Crowley tries to reiterate his constant stance that both sides are bad actually, and mentions how he rejected Hell's offer to work with them again, Aziraphale misses his point completely and says, "But well, obviously you said no to Hell, you're the bad guys. But Heaven, it's the side of truth, of light, of good." Aziraphale's faith in the potential goodness of Heaven and the actual goodness of God is unflappable but so is his belief that good is what Crowley wants to be doing. Like of course a good soul like Crowley would reject working for Hell again but why would he reject a chance to do good like he's sneakily been doing all along? (Aziraphale here ignores the fact that he's also had to sneakily do good on the side sometimes even though he was always working for "the side of good" but that is very par for the course for him sadly.)

The lines, "Come with me- to heaven. I'll run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference," are a particularly telling set. Everything about these from the high position he's offering Crowley to the "We" scream that Aziraphale trusts Crowley, a Demon, to guide Heaven the correct way more than any angel already in Heaven.

Aziraphale's final, desperate argument also lines up well with this (as well as featuring Aziraphale more completely referencing how he wants him and Crowley to be together romantically). "Come back, to heaven. Work with me! We can be together. Angels... Doing good. I- I need you! I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." Like is the "I need you" here romantic? Definitely. But it's also Aziraphale again affirming that he trusts Crowley to lead him the correct way ie goodness, because, as it's been shown to us many times (and focused on particularly in this season), Crowley will do and always has been doing the correct thing as best he could while Aziraphale would dither and be locked into passivity (like in The Resurrectionists).

So yes, after many attempts to explain to Crowley how he should be in Heaven, doing good and Aziraphale needs his help and one last desperate kiss from Crowley, we reach the final dreaded, "l forgive you." And yes, maybe Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for not having faith that they can fix heaven, for abandoning him, for kissing him so suddenly. But I hope, after everything I've laid out here in this essay, you can also see why I think Aziraphale is saying, "Even as you reject God's forgiveness and leave me behind, I still see that you are good and know you deserve it so I will forgive you anyway." And maybe, even though it's still blasphemous to disagree with God, it's less scary for Aziraphale to say "I forgive you" one more time than tell Crowley that he loves him for the first time. He is very good at forgiveness after all.

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blouisparadise · 8 months ago

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Upon request, today we have a rec list of bottom Louis fics where either Louis or Harry has amnesia. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Finding Thoughts | Teen & Up | 6,810 words

"Hi, my name is Louis Tomlinson and I suffer from short term memory loss."

2) Our Love Was Made For Movie Screens. | Not Rated | 8,106 words

Harry wakes up and doesn't know anything about anything and Louis is his omega.

3) Cause I’m Really Not Fine At All | Mature | 13,679 words

Louis Tomlinson, one of the famous members of One Direction, is involved in a car accident that caused him to have amnesia, wiping all the last five years of his life from the memory. The interesting part is he may not remember that he has a girlfriend now, yet his mind seems to think that he has been in a relationship with one of the members, Harry Styles. Harry is baffled and shocked at the situation that's thrown in his face. He finds himself learning how to be a good boyfriend for Louis. It has to be easy.. right?

4) Indestructible | Explicit | 24,243 words

“Hi,” Harry murmurs, and Louis hiccups out a sob. “Hi,” he manages, still clutching onto Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s fingers drift across Louis’ cheeks, and there’s something off about Harry’s expression, but Louis can’t figure out what it is. “I’m okay,” Harry says, and Louis is going to say something to that, even if he doesn’t know what, except Harry’s kissing him. Louis freezes.

5) The Way This River Runs | Explicit | 27,417 words

Louis is provided a chance to start over. He takes it.

6) Deleted Scenes | Explicit | 33,623 words

Agent Harry Styles was injured on the job a few months back, and gets roped in one last mission before he can retire prematurely: playing house with Louis, a widower who has amnesia. The assignment seems simple at the beginning, but soon enough Harry's twisted in a web of his own making, and can't get out anymore.

7) Just A Pretty Boy | Explicit | 35,614 words

The alpha in front of him wasn’t only tall, but used every inch of his body to look even more threatening. He looked as shocked as Joseph felt, in his eyes he could clearly see horror and anger mixed into an odd and painful mix. It was as if he just watched a ghost or a monster from a nightmare come to life. “Louis…” he said with a low voice. It wasn’t a question, he was calling Joseph by that name. The crease between Joseph’s brows deepened. “Who?” Louis and Harry were married until, one day, Louis passed away in a tragic accident. Years later, he is found alive and with a thousand questions plaguing his mind. The most important ones; was his husband involved in his disappearance? And, how long did it take Harry and his best friend to fall in love after his supposed dead?

8) The Things I’d Do To Wake Up Next To You | Mature | 36,109 words

AU. Harry wakes up to a pregnant Louis Tomlinson and a wedding band on his finger.

9) Strangers In Love | Explicit | 42,207 words

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

10) Define Me Again | Mature | 54,385 words

He's never felt so frightened in his life before, so fucking terrified for himself. And Louis. He looked down at their hands, which seemed to have been connected throughout the incident. He looked at the ring on Louis' hand, for the nth time that day. His heart hurt so bad now, he was terrified. He wanted to do so many things, he wanted to check on louis, if he- if he- God he couldn't even think about it. "Louis," he tried to whisper, but nothing but air came out from his mouth. "I love you, Harry," whispered a voice. But it was nowhere near him. Visions attacked his mind, rapidly flickering through like one would do the pages of a book. He was terrified. His entire life literally flashed in his mind, vision growing more and more weak and he fought unconsciousness. Memories and the picture of Louis lying unconscious in front of him altered and flickered, so rapidly that he felt dizzy with how fast his mind was whirring. What happens when you die? God he was so, so, so, fucking terrified. All his senses gave out, last thing he felt was Louis' hand in his and then, everything went black.

11) Flash Back To Me | Explicit | 73,068 words | Prequel

Louis narrows his eyes, wanting more than anything to tell Liam to go fuck himself, but he can’t be sure, is the thing. As much as he knows for a fact that he would never date someone like Harry Styles, he has months missing from his memory. And it’s scary to think that, in that time, everything he’s come to know about himself could have changed so drastically.

12) Consequences | Explicit | 78,556 words

Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.

13) Invisible String | Explicit | 84,726 words

Louis swears on his life that that man came out of literal nowhere and he thanks each lucky star for having good breaks in his car. This strange alpha also happens to be the most beautiful being Louis has laid his eyes on. For some unknown reason, the omega feels safe around the alpha. It might seem strange, but you can't always explain why or how things are the way they are. All you can really be sure of is that they happen for a reason. There's a higher power (call it what you want) that knows better and definitely knows more than you do.

14) The Dead Of July | Explicit | 117,446 words

Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp fic recs #amnesia

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aziraphales-library · 9 months ago

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Hi mods,

first of all, thank you for the great work you've been doing, thanks to you I've found some amazing fics!

I was wondering if you could recommend a slow burn fic that is on the longer side, at least 20,000 words, non-human, any rating? Something like She did look back, and I love her for that by Waterloo maybe?

Thanks so much in advance, have a wonderful day!

Hello! Here are some longer slow burn non-human fics...

The space between us by MyOwnName123 (T)

This is a love story, written by my own asexual/aromantic ass. Crowley took exactly seven seconds to fall madly in love with Aziraphale, but he knows it's a terrible idea to actually do anything about it so instead he spends thousands of years pining away silently. Besides, what does love even mean? This fic may or may not have gone out of hand in terms of biblical and historical accuracy, also i tried to stay true to canon but it's been a while since i last read Good omens so this is probably more based on head canons and other fanfic. Enjoy!

32 Questions That Lead To Love by ffonippop (E)

”First formulated in 1997, [32] questions to fall in love is a study by psychologist Dr. Arthur Aron which took place at Stony Brook University, New York. The aim? Speeding up the creation of intimacy between two strangers.” The Cosmopolitan Okay, fine. Crowley was 32-Questions-That-Lead-To-Love-ing Aziraphale. Sue him. He had no expectations, all right? Just, an innocent curiosity.

Sunlight or Demise by verovex (T)

Anathema had once said she couldn’t see Adam’s aura, and it should’ve been more of a red flag, but the reality was it had just been so large she couldn’t see it for what it was. For Crowley, it was the same thing with trying to see reciprocation from Aziraphale. * The enormity of love was, by all accounts, indecipherable. Aziraphale had known what love felt like in this world. At least, he thought he understood it. He felt it all around him. He always had. Sometimes, it was stronger in particular places than in others. But, there was something blurred about it all if you looked too close. He’d realized that Heaven never felt like this, yet it’s where you were taught that it should exist. Aziraphale had started to wonder. He couldn’t decide when the thought first came around that perhaps the love he felt had actually been what was sifting between him and Crowley. At some point, it was easier to be humbled by the complacency of what they’d always been showing each other than outright admitting it for what it was. But that wasn't enough anymore.

Heaven's a Distance, Not a Place by Turcote (T)

The Apocalypse has come and gone, and Aziraphale knows it's finally time to tell Crowley how he really feels. Only, finding the perfect time to confess is proving to be more difficult than he anticipated... Or, 5 Times Aziraphale Almost Confessed His Feelings + the 1 Time He Finally Did.

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? by theshoparoundthecorner (G)

“Bit of an odd tradition, if you ask me,” he said, if not to get his mind off the longing that had settled in his chest. Aziraphale shrugged. “I think it’s rather sweet. A kiss for good luck. Seems a nice way to start the year. Very human.” Crowley nodded. “Can’t seem to keep their hands off each other, that lot. Always finding excuses. First it’s mistletoe at Christmas, then it’s luck for the New Year…” “Well there’s no need to be so grouchy about it,” Aziraphale said. “I think it’s lovely.” Crowley’s heart ached a little more as he watched Aziraphale smile up at the glowing numbers on the building above them. Yeah, he thought, lovely. Five times Crowley thought about kissing Aziraphale on New Year's Eve, and one time he did.

Oh, Maker by voluptatiscausa (E)

"The humans are strange and graceful as they explore the garden, explore themselves, explore each other. The trouble is, the humans stare back, which makes him uncomfortable; there’s nothing particularly interesting about him. And, though he rarely admits it to himself, the humans make him lonely; he has no Other to explore." Or: how many times can you take a bath with your best friend before you kiss him?

And the one you mentioned...

She did look back, and I love her for that by Waterloo (M)

1666, LONDON, AFTER THE FIRE Oh fuck, he thinks. Oh fuck, he's in love. (A not-so-nice but entirely accurate account of two immortal beings throughout the millenia, replete with feelings.)

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #slow burn #long fic #mod d

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pemprika · 2 years ago

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hnk ch. 100 thoughts (spoilers)

Making a full-on separate post because I thought there was a lot to draw from in this recent chapter... I needed to document it, so here is my veryy long thought bubble on hnk 100:

The chapter felt like a depiction of Phos in transition to accepting themself and adapting to a new phase of peace that they hadn’t experienced before. While young Phos had a carefree life, they were perpetually stuck feeling useless, never satisfied with the way they lived, and gradually lost all their friends, selfhood, and purpose.

It’s a little difficult to emotionally match the pacing of the story considering how often the series goes on hiatus now, but note that Phos had only recently come to terms with their own flaws and the reasons why everything ended up the way it did. They had a wish to be happy, and meeting these lifeforms allowed them to realize the meaning of their existence and be more content with it.

That poetic verse was introspective and contemplative. Rather than placing worth based on certain levels, like the gems’ hardness levels or Lunarians’ caste system, these rudimentary rocks perceive that all life is made equal. For thousands of years, gems tied their own value to a designated role, and if they couldn’t fulfill it, they devalued their existence. We saw a lot of perspectives throughout Phos’ journey, including how Rutile “failed” as a doctor for being unable to fix Padapradscha on their own, or how Dia “failed'' to live up as a diamond with refined fighting skills compared to their rivaled counterpart. Again, these are just flawed traits passed down from their human predecessors and the curse of immortality.

The chapter ending conveyed a hopeful conception that all things, primitive or refined, come from the same place (nature). I struggled to connect the details mentioned in ch 97 before, but it gave us sooo much foreshadowing to this new world. Dr. Ayumu said that, “the inorganic things that we had been using for ourselves will soon have a world of their own'', alluding that these little guys that Phos met are the new world.

Interesting how Dr. Ayumu wanted Adamant to “build the bridge” and Phos to “burn the bridge” in order to create this “beautiful, rational world” to be a more freeing and less destructive place, and refresh the Earth to avoid relying on human values and qualities to stay self-fulfilled.

I was talking with @/mlkinis who brought up an interesting theory of using rocks in this new arc to symbolize the reversion of materialism. The rocks, elements derived from basic nature, have vastly different virtues compared to the gems, a class of refined minerals that developed a habitual routine of upkeep socially and culturally. While gems are also made from the Earth, they are perceived as high-value and are often polished to be artificially beautiful.

One Buddhist principle reflects on detaching oneself to worldly possessions and desires, such as wealth, in order to attain inner peace, and it seems that having these primitive rocks is a representation of Phos “letting go” of the gem society, which may be another way of showcasing that the world is returning back to life as the way it once was, and that Phos is on a path to attaining ultimate happiness. I’m wondering if Dr. Ayumu’s line, “When you cross that bridge, burn it” refers to Phos leaving their suffering behind as they’re going forth to being happy in this new world that is coming to be...

Anyway, upon reading the passage, along with meeting the sentient rocks and hearing its rock friend sing the verse, I felt like Phos reconciled with their own self and existence, and melted from feeling at peace 🥺😭!! Thank you, Ichikawa as always… This was a very cool and comforting chapter for me.

#hnk #hnk spoilers #hnk 100 #houseki no kuni #very very introspective read between the lines kind of chapter #thank you for reading!!#the pacing of the story has been a little wacky considering how many hiatuses it's been going through #you often forget the context of previous chapters... it can get a little hard to piece together #i'd love to hear other peoples' thoughts too =)

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feralstemgirl · 13 days ago

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trump’s win last tuesday was devastating and i’ve been struggling to come to terms with half of the nation i love so dearly voting for someone who is so repulsive and anti-american. the antithesis of everything i believe america to stand for. for a moment, i felt the foundations of my faith in people- in humanity, falter. how could it not?

but i was re-reading Man’s Search for Meaning this morning and it reminded me of why i love humans with such desperate hope you could mistake me for a dog at the dinner table.

we humans, we are capable of so much good, so much love, so much light- it’s blinding.

there’s this story about margaret mead that rattles around my head sometimes.

as the story goes, a student asked her what she considered to be the first sign of civilization. the student was probably expecting an answer about fishhooks or clay pots or domesticated plants.

but mead instead responded, “a fractured femur that has healed.”

she went on to explain that in the animal kingdom, breaking your leg is a death sentence. you can’t hunt, can’t get to the watering hole, can’t run from predators. no animal survives a broken leg long enough for the bone to heal.

a healed leg means someone had stayed. someone had tended to the wound, had carried that person to safety, brought them food and water as they healed.

helping someone else through difficulty is where civilization starts, she explained.

please understand that this is what i mean when i say to be human is to love & to love is to be human.

i know that there are many of us out there discouraged by the rise of fascism across the world. by the seeming cruelty of the people we share this world with. by the shadows that seem to envelop us.

but i implore you: do not give up. we have been healing bones for thousands of years. and during that time, empires have risen and fallen, great plagues & storms & fires have destroyed societies, dictators have held court over their burning countries, conquerers have won and lost enormous swaths of land, and through it all, the only consistency has been healed femurs; the depth of love humans are capable of holding for each other.

this fight might be slow, it may feel like we take one step back for every step forward, but it is worth it.

photo sources:

man’s search for meaning // man’s search for meaning // threads user bestcrispair // the plague // threads user fly_me_aroundwd // threads user st_friend79 // comment on a tiktok regarding the election // comment on a tiktok thanking kamala harris for giving us all hope, even if for a short period of time // comment on a tiktok about the generational fight women have been waging for our rights // transcription (done by me) of a tiktok posted by french user santasolina

#hopecore #love #web weaving #quotes #election 2024 #usa politics #hope

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themultifandomgal · 2 months ago

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From 2010- On The Road Again Tour Pt1

Part 47

2015

4th February

“Have you got every thing?” dad asks as I zip up my suit case

“I think so. If I have forgotten any thing I’ll just get it when I get to Sydney”

“Ok. What time is Harry picking you up?” I look at the watch on my wrist

“In about 10 minutes” dad sighs making me frown “what?”

“I just… you’re going on tour again, I barely get to see you now”

“I know dad, but this is my job”

“They just seem to demand a lot out of all of you. You’re just shy of 21 and you’ve done nothing but work since you were 17”

“I love what I do dad. I promise I’m happy. I’m tired sure and we all know that the band won’t last forever. I don’t know how long we will go on for, but I’m ok dad” dad then pulls me into his arms and gives me a huge hug

“I love you pumpkin”

“I love you to dad” my phone chimes. It’s a text off Harry telling me he’s outside waiting “see you soon”

*photo credit to @harianadarling on tumblr

7th February- Sydney

“Just ignore him. He wants to upset you before you go on stage” Liam tells me

“Well he’s doing a damn good job. God why did I get myself mixed up in this?”

“You were vulnerable after Alex and he comforted you” Harry gives me a weak smile “he’s not worth your tears”

“I don’t care if he doesn’t like me, but why spread shit online?”

“Because he’s an ass” Louis wraps an arm around my shoulder and squeezes it in a comforting way

“I just feel like crap”

“I know, but one day karma will come back to bite him. So until that day arrives, let’s go out there where there’s thousands of people who love you and have a good night” Niall says to me

“Ok. Your right. If he wants to act like a child and be petty he can” I wipe the tears off my face “let’s go” I get up from the sofa and start to head towards the door of my room

“Woah ok before you do you may want to fix your mascara”

“Oh yeah” I giggle at Harry’s comment.

I put on a brave face that night and end up actually enjoying myself and for a few hours forgetting that my ex is bitching about me behind my back.

14th February- Melbourne

“Whose idea was it to do a show on the worst day of the year?” I groan backstage listing to the crowd screaming. Louis chuckles next to me

“It’s only the worst day because your single”

“Not true” I cross my arms but know he is telling the truth completely

“YN close your eyes” Harry says

“Why?” I frown at him

“Just do it” Zayn says rolling his eyes

“Fine” I close my eyes begrudgingly. I hear some rustling then I’m told by Zayn to open

“Happy Galantine’s Day” Emma is stood holding a bouquet of flowers

“What are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t let my best friend spend today on her own now could I”

“But I’m not on my own” I laugh taking the flowers

“I’ll go then shall?” She jokes

“No. I'm glad your here” I pull her into a hug

“Good. Now go and put on a show”

19th February

“I was always compared to her ex, and after a while I knew I would never be able to be as good as him in her eyes. The relationship was toxic, I felt trapped in a cycle” I read a quote from an interview with Liam “what the fuck. I never compared him to Alex. Yes the relationship was toxic but that wasn’t my fault was it?” I ask Harry frowning

“No course not”

“Then why is he saying all these lies about me? Listen ‘she would beg me to stay and I did because I loved her, but it was wrong. I know I wasn’t the only man in her life and it’s clear now from photos I’ve seen’ what photos? The ones of us at the airport? Why is he doing this? Why does he want me to be the bad guy? If he didn’t speak on our relationship then neither of us would look bad. I need to put a statement out”

“No you’re not” Simon says over the phone “that’s what he wants, you to retaliate”

“Simon’s right. He’s the one talking crap. Remember what Niall said?”

“Karma will come for him” I breath out “fine I won’t say anything yet, but I need to get all of this out somehow”

“Here” Harry hands me my notebook “get those thoughts out”

20th February- Perth

"There all waiting at the back door" Paul walks into the boys dressing room where I am pacing up and down feeling really anxious. I’ve been getting a lot of hate at the moment with all of Liams recent statements

“Can’t we go out the front way?” Zayn asks

“No they’re there as well. Safest is back door and straight into the car”

“Fine” I feel tears pooling at my eyes but try to hold them back. We make our way to the back door where I can hear fans and paparazzi. Paul opens the door and I walk out with Harry in front of me and the other boys behind me

“YN is it true?”

“YN did you cheat?”

“You shouldn’t have let Liam on”

“Liams better without you!”

I try blocking everything out but it’s hard. I feel a hand in mine, I don’t need to look up to recognise Harry’s rings. He pulls me into the waiting car, shouting being muffled by the doors finally shutting when the others get into the car as well

“This is getting ridiculous” Zayn sight leaning into the chair “I hate it”

“If you hate it imagine how YNs feeling” Harry snaps

“Dude” Niall shakes his head as I try to breath through the tears now leaking

“Sorry. How you holding up?”

“Let it out if you need” Liam says. With that the tears come faster.

#harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x oc #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #6th one direction member #one direction x reader #sixth one direction member #one direction

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part-time-zombie · 4 months ago

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Waiting Out The Storm

pairings: roceit (could be romantic or platonic)

summary: After a rather nasty storm ends up ruining both Roman and Janus' plans, the pair find themselves coming together and putting their differences aside as they cope with the weather.

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, both sides refuse to talk about their feelings, Virgil's a bit of a jerk for a moment, no other sides are there

word count: 3733

A/N: This fic was the result of me getting inspired by the most recent incorrect quotes video, writing two very similar fics, and putting them together because they fit so well in my head. I had a lot of fun writing this, so I hope it's still good.

Janus should have known this would happen. He had only meant to find some proper peace and quiet by retreating outside to read his book in peace, it’s not like he was asking for much. Of course it was going to rain today. Logan had actually mentioned that to him before he headed out, now that he thought about it. He hadn’t bothered to listen to him at the time, and now he wishes he did. The rain was pelting fiercely around him, and the flimsy awning he was hiding under hardly provided any cover against the seemingly unending storm.

He tried to head back inside the second he felt the first raindrop, only to find the door stubbornly locked and barring him from refuge. No one seemed to hear or acknowledge that he was still outside, no matter how loudly he knocked at the door. They all must be busy in their own rooms, unless they were just ignoring him. Janus didn’t know, but at a guess it may be a mix of both. Patton and Logan have yet to fully hate him, so the only reason they would abandon him to the weather is that they simply didn’t realize he was still outside. Remus was probably doing his own thing as well, because even he wouldn’t subject Janus to this indignity too much. Maybe for a little, but not for this long. Virgil, on the other hand, likely wouldn’t care if Janus were locked out all night.

He had seen him, of course. Virgil just happened to descend the stairs shortly after Janus had knocked, presumably to investigate the ruckus he was making. Looking through the glass, Virgil saw him outside huddled close to the window in a desperate attempt to stay dry as the storm continued to rage around him. Janus gave him the most pitifully helpless look possible, hoping he could appeal to some speck of sympathy in Virgil’s heart. It almost seemed to work for a moment, his face softening in realization as he saw him.

Then he closed the blinds and left him stranded outside.

At any other time, Janus would have found that hilarious. It’s the kind of thing he would do himself, and if he weren’t currently on the receiving end of it he’d be laughing. Right now though, he could only shake in the rain, unsure if it was from the cold or anger.

Janus had hoped that Virgil was willing to move on after all this time. Sure, there had been a falling apart between them years ago, but Janus didn’t hold it against him. Not anymore, at least. He had grown past what had happened, but it looks like Virgil hasn’t forgiven him yet.

He’s really going to let him have it when he gets back inside.

It’s not like they can lock him out forever, right? Surely they wouldn’t do that. Patton likes him at least, and Logan respects him enough. All he has to do is wait until they remember he’s out here and then they’ll let him in, a thousand apologies spilling from their lips.

Janus dismissed the thought with a willful shake of the head. Who was he kidding? Logan didn’t really care about him, and Patton probably forgot about him entirely. The only one who knows he’s out here is Virgil, and it was clear he wasn’t letting him in anytime soon. He thought about finding a way to break in somehow, but he knew he wouldn’t actually do it. They need him to be good before they’ll accept him, and good guys don’t pick locks or use dirty tricks to get what they want, even if it’s just to seek shelter from a storm.

He was already on thin ice after everything else he did, he can’t make it worse now.

Roman actually didn’t mind the rain all that much. Sure, it came with the risk of ruining his outfit, but it was usually worth it.

Besides, they were bound to let him in anytime now. He just has to wait a little longer…

He had merely gone out for a quiet stroll in the park, a chance to clear his head and be by himself for a moment, when he heard the distant clap of thunder rapidly approaching. Luckily, Logan had warned him of the storm and he brought an umbrella just in case. At first it simply made for a nice prop, a bright red to compliment his sash as he idly carried it over his shoulder as he walked. With the rain now cascading all around him, he’s rather glad he thought to take it with him.

The weather hardly hindered his time outside, if anything it only improved it. With the rain came a lovely quietness and solitude he didn’t realize he needed, and as he reached out a hand from under his umbrella to feel the rainfall, he found it to be very grounding and calming. It also gave him the opportunity to quote musicals and romantic movies, though it would be nice to sing a proper duet with a partner some day.

That thought had him somberly slow his steps as he headed back to the apartment. He knew no one would want to do that with him. Logan and Virgil would only roll their eyes in quiet criticism, and as enthusiastic as Patton would be, he wouldn’t take it seriously and would probably only make it into something foolish. At least Roman could sing a few songs by himself on the walk back.

By the time he had returned from his walk, the rain had gone from a light shower to a full-on storm, and he was now more than eager to head back inside.

He almost didn’t even see Janus huddled up by the door, shaking and soaking wet.

Janus looked up and saw him, expression shifting from desolated to defensive. He looked away quickly, wrapping his arms even tighter around himself as he tried his best to look unbothered by the rain, and failing spectacularly.

“What are you doing out here?” Roman couldn’t help but ask.

“Enjoying myself, obviously,” Janus replied with a sarcastic sneer. “I just love being subjected to the elements for hours on end, don’t you?”

Roman rolled his eyes as he walked to the door. If Janus was just going to start another petty squabble again, he’d rather get somewhere dry before the fight could start.

The door didn’t budge when he tried to open it.

“It’s locked, idiot,” Janus muttered. “It’s not like I’d still be out here if I had a choice.”

Roman bit his tongue before he said anything too hurtful. Now was not the time. He knocked loudly on the door, to no response.

“Don’t you think I’d have tried that already? They’re not opening the door; they either don’t hear or don’t care.” Janus sighed, absently kicking at a puddle as he spoke. “I doubt they even know it’s you knocking, they’re probably too focused on letting me suffer to remember you’re stuck out here too.”

Roman only huffed in response, grabbing his phone to call someone only to remember all too belatedly that it had died halfway through his walk. Great. Locked out of the house during a storm with Janus is exactly how he wanted today to turn out.

“I don’t suppose you have your phone on hand, do you?” he asked with a sigh.

Janus shook his head in defeat. “Left it in the house by mistake. I doubt anyone would have even answered if I called them, though. They likely have my number blocked.”

“Why the hell would they lock the door on us?”

Janus only shrugged for a moment, leaning against the wall as the rain continued to pool around his feet. “Who’s to say? Maybe they forgot we’re out here, maybe they thought you had come back by now and just wanted to keep me from getting inside, maybe they knew we were both outside and thought it would be funny.”

Roman didn’t respond to that, instead turning and pounding on the door again, though he knew by now that it wouldn’t work.

“If they didn’t know I was out here, they might have answered by now,” Janus commented. “I think they’re too busy ignoring me to remember you.”

Roman started getting defensive. What did Janus know anyway? “They wouldn’t do that.”

Janus arched an eyebrow. “Oh? And you’re so sure?”

“Of course, we may all joke around but we’d never be so wicked as you’re suggesting.”

Janus turned to face him head on, his expression hardened and full of resentment.

“Virgil closed the blinds on me,” he started, voice flat and deadpan. “He looked right at me and left me out here, knowing full well how bad this storm is.” He gave Roman a humorless grin, one that was sharpened with grim understanding. “Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing. Tell me how you wouldn’t even think of doing that to me.”

Roman swallowed uncomfortably. He wanted to say that he wouldn’t, but in truth, he probably would. He might have even locked the door on Janus, if it were him.

That’s hardly heroic of him, but it’s the truth. It’s the horrible, horrible truth.

Janus seemed to take his silence as answer enough, as he hummed knowingly before turning away and watching the storm instead.

Roman looked at him, feeling the weight of what he had said settling over him. Sure, he was still angry about what had happened between them, and that pain may never fully heal, but do either of them deserve that? How much longer will they continue to let each other suffer, all because they’re both too proud to do anything else?

The water was now pooling at Roman’s feet, but he hardly paid it any mind. This always happens, doesn’t it? Roman and Janus fight and no one else does anything about it. It’s almost become as predictable as Remus making a mess or Patton messing up.

He gasped as the thought entered his mind. How could he have forgotten? Roman moved away from the door and started blindly feeling around in the rocks by the back porch with his free hand, much to Janus’ confusion.

“What is it that you’re doing now?” he asked, exasperation evident in his tone.

“Usually it’s Patton who gets locked out of the house,” Roman explained as he continued his search. “And it happened enough times for Logan to get fed up and make a spare key. Virgil insisted we hide it to be safe, and it should be right about…” he trailed off, finally locating the large rock it was under. “Here!”

Roman lifted the key with a victorious flourish, hurriedly unlocking the door. Janus all but raced inside and made a beeline for his room, with Roman hanging up his umbrella close behind.

He, unlike Janus, froze in place immediately when he realized just how dark the apartment was. All he could focus on was the suffocating darkness that had filled every corner of the room and flooded his mind with panic. The whole apartment was vacant and void of light, casting eerie shadows and creating frightening shapes in their wake.

The power was out.

It was no secret that Roman disliked the dark, though he tried to downplay just how badly he was frightened of it. It obscured and obstructed his sight, leaving the surroundings open to his overactive imagination (which always ran the risk of manifesting) and left him feeling far too vulnerable and exposed for his liking. He felt simultaneously cut off from the world and surrounded by danger, and despite the faint flickering of a few candles that had been lit to compensate for the darkness, Roman could only think to search of light and safety.

Janus had gone upstairs, and the other sides must be up there, too. Even if he can’t find light he can at least make sure he’s not alone with the shadows. He hurried upstairs in a frantic search for sanctuary, pausing to recollect himself after finding the hallway to be even darker than the living room. Roman tried to gather his breath and cleared his head before finally spotting a sliver of warm, welcoming light peeking out from behind one of the bedroom doors.

Safety at last.

Eager to escape the darkness that surrounded him, he hurriedly tried to open the door, knocking loudly when he found it locked.

Janus finally opened the door, a warm glow from his room seeping out behind him. Despite his time spent left out in the rain, he was surprisingly dry.

“Are you trying to break my door down?” he hissed. “Not to be rude, but I’ve had enough socializing for today, so if you don’t mind I’d like to be left alone now.”

Janus started to close the door on him, and Roman felt his heart lurch as he realized he would be deprived of that safe, soothing light in Janus’ room. Panicked and desperate, Roman reached out a hand and caught the door before it could close, trying his best to force it back open.

“Are you serious?” Janus exclaimed, still blocking Roman from entering his room. “I told you to go. You’ve been more than willing to avoid me before, right?”

“Please,” Roman ignored the shake in his voice. “The power’s out and it’s dark everywhere else.”

“So?”

“So I can’t stand it. I just want some light, that’s all. I don’t like being in the dark. Please, Janus.”

On any other day, Roman would die from embarrassment at the thought of him begging Janus for help. Especially when the help involves admitting to his own weaknesses and fears. Right now, though, all he can focus on is how well-lit Janus’ room is, and how badly he wants to feel safe.

Janus stared silently back at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You’re scared of the dark, aren’t you?” he finally asked, an unpleasant mixture of condescension and intrigue in his voice.

Roman nodded, an inkling of shame now joining with his still present fear. Of course Janus would mock him for this. What is he thinking, going to Janus for help? It’s not like they’ve buried the hatchet in the storm outside or anything. Janus still hates him, and going to him for help is still a terrible idea. He must have lost his mind to think anything good would come of this.

“Please,” he whispered.

Janus gave him another look before letting out a deep sigh and stepping back, granting Roman access to his room.

“Normally I’d say no, but since you got me out of the storm I’ll oblige this one time,” he said with a groan. “Besides, I don’t like owing people.”

Roman thanked him before quickly heading inside, already feeling himself calm down now that he was out of the dark. Janus’ room was surprisingly decent, with ornate furnishings and regal gold decorations that stood out nicely against the black accents. On the wall to his right was a large, lit fireplace, the source of the reassuring light that lured Roman in here.

Janus sat down on a plush cushion close to the fireplace, picking up the book he must have been reading when Roman interrupted him.

“I wanted to enjoy some much-needed peace and quiet today, and I still intend on doing so, so while you’re here I want you to keep your hands and opinions to yourself, alright?” Janus asked him, the stern tone in his voice leaving no room for debate.

Roman nodded.

“Good, now make yourself comfortable and I’ll do the same.”

With little else to say or do, Roman obediently grabbed a cushion of his own and seated himself on the other side of the fireplace, close enough to be eased by its light while maintaining a respectful distance from Janus.

He didn’t have anything with him to occupy his time, so he instead looked around the room as his mind wandered, taking in the intricate and presumably expensive décor Janus filled his room with. Everything was organized and majestic, and despite Roman preferring lighter and more colorful shades, the lavish accents and atmospheric layout of Janus’ room were surprisingly appealing to his own personal tastes, save for the excessive snake-themed memorabilia, that is.

Roman’s gaze eventually wandered back to Janus, who was still focused on his book and seemed to be trying very hard to pretend Roman wasn’t there. The firelight illuminated his features and wrapped him in a warm and not unpleasant glow that, Roman had to admit, made him look more delicate and even approachable in an enigmatic but alluring way.

“You’re staring,” Janus muttered, eyes flicking up to him for a moment before returning to the page. “Is there a problem, or am I just that handsome?”

Roman flushed, looking away for a moment. “What? Oh, I mean, it’s just… I guess I wanted to say thanks. For letting me in your room, that is.”

Janus looked back up at him, eyes shining by the firelight. “… oh.”

“Uh, what are you reading?” Roman continued, now feeling obligated to keep up the conversation.

“Why are you asking?”

“Well, I’m curious. Is it a good book?”

Janus shifted in his seat. “I think so, but why do you care?”

Roman shrugged, not quite sure how to answer. Why does he care?

Janus let out a huff before going back to his book, muttering a quiet “that’s what I thought,” under his breath as he turned the page.

Janus continued reading, shuffling even closer to the fireplace with what sounded like either another sigh or a shiver. Considering the slight tremble in his hands that he couldn’t fully hide, Roman was tempted to think it was the latter.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course I am,” Janus replied with an unsubtle eye roll.

“It’s just, you’re kinda shaking a little bit. Do you not like the dark too?”

Janus stiffened slightly, his grip tightening on the book that he tried to look invested in. “I’m not afraid of the dark, Roman. You’re projecting.”

“Then why are you sitting so close to the fireplace, and why did you light it in the first place?”

Janus sighed before giving Roman a look that suggested he already knew the answer. “Fire isn’t just bright, Roman. Surely you’re clever enough to piece it together.”

Roman ran it over in his head. Janus had shivered just now, but he didn’t look afraid. He definitely didn’t look comfortable, though.

“Are you cold?”

“Congratulations on solving today’s puzzle,” Janus teased, his tone now a mocking version of a game show host for a moment before returning to its usual sardonic state. “Why else did you think I’d have a massive fireplace in my room? It’s good to have a backup heat source, and besides, it does set a rather nice ambiance,” he explained.

Well, it did make sense. He was coldblooded, after all, and even if it’s not freezing right now, a sudden chill can’t be good for him since the weather had taken out the thermostat with the lights. Roman wordlessly summoned a blanket before tossing it over to Janus, only shrugging in a vague response when he looked up at him in confusion.

“I suppose I should thank you,” Janus muttered, not fully looking at him as he wrapped himself up in Roman’s offered blanket.

“If you want. If you do, though, I should probably apologize.”

“Do you want to?”

Roman didn’t know how to answer. Part of him wanted to put this whole mess behind the both of them so they could at least try to get along together, but another part of him was still far too bitter and stubborn to let go so soon. They had both hurt and been hurt, and that pain wasn’t going away any time soon, but he’d be willing to apologize as long as he wasn’t the only one doing it.

“How about we leave it unspoken, then?” Janus offered with a small but sincere smile.

Roman gave him a similar half-smile in return. “That works for me.”

Janus gave him a brief nod in agreement before returning to his spot on the page, now looking noticeably more comfortable and far less displeased.

Roman couldn’t help but smile to himself, partially at having earned some gratitude from Janus, but also at how endearing he looked while bundled up in one of Roman’s blankets. Roman didn’t expect to actually refer to Janus like that, but then again he didn’t think he’d wait out a power outage with him either. This whole situation was surprising, but Roman didn’t really mind.

“You’re staring again.”

Roman felt his face heat up, and most certainly not from the fire. “Do you want me to stop?”

“… Not really,” Janus muttered. Roman only just managed to catch the slight blush on his face.

The two sat in silence after that, but it was a comfortable one with none of the tension from before. The rain could still be heard outside, though it was considerably quieter now. The storm must be passing now, and with luck the power might return within the next few hours.

But on the off chance that it didn’t…

“I wouldn’t mind it,” Janus mumbled, almost like he didn’t want to say it out loud.

Roman leaned forward slightly, straining to hear him better. “What was that?”

Janus held the book higher over his face, as if he were hiding behind it. “I was saying that if, for whatever reason the power is out all night, you’d be allowed to stay over. I wouldn’t mind it.”

“Wait, really?”

“You’re sleeping on the floor, but yes.” Janus lowered the book again, staring at Roman. “Unless of course you’d rather be alone in your own dark room all night.”

“Absolutely not,” Roman replied, a little too hastily. “I mean, um, I’m not against staying over, as long as you’re fine with it. Thanks, I guess, for offering.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Janus gave him another subtle smile that Roman found himself returning, and he realized he wouldn’t mind it if the lights didn’t come back on right away. Spending a dark and stormy night like this with Janus might not be the worst thing in the world.

taglist:

@lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie @nico-the-overlord @rougeside4 @britt-ish123 @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @holdnarrytight @new-zee-land @yuckypuppie @can-i-take-a-stab @keitaisghost

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #roman sanders #janus sanders #ts sides #ts roman #ts janus #my fics #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #hope this is good lol

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ohsunnyboy · 1 year ago

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anything but right | park gunwook ˚₊‧⁺˖

park gunwook has bewitched your heart and enchanted the court. but everyone else seems to know that, except you.

TAGS: slight fantasy au, royalty!au, royal guard!gunwook, royal!reader, gn!reader, forbidden love sorta, mage!gunwook

A/N: quite a big style change bc i wrote this at like 2am, v self indulgy metaphor and imagery barf haha read twice for full effect

WORDS: ~600

Park Gunwook is ash and joy.

He takes your hand and spins you round. Through it all, you can taste it, the burn and heat of his radiance. He dips you and your world lurches to what he sees: the devil on the floor.

He laughs, and it looks like he has swallowed the sun...

It ends like this.

"Care to dance?"

Park Gunwook is dressed like everything righteous in the world. First and foremost, he is a soldier of the royal guard, he is loyal to his people, and he will respect the crown.

And do everything but address you by your title.

"Never." But he smiles and it's a stupid one. You want to order it gone, like a stain on sheets or a mage caught on the streets. Nevertheless, Gunwook's grin persists, and his hand still holds out.

"Even if I ask nicely?" he murmurs, and you can feel it. It burns you from the inside out as he leans low, talks low and promises a high that you'll never forget. There's nothing nice about him apart from his smile and the way his eyes crinkle when he does. Every word a mage can say is a curse, and each one they utter is binding.

Warmth, pure warmth tries to convince you to break down your guard. What took years of lessons and verse to cement, wants to come melting away in a blaze of Gunwook’s aftermath. Something about him calls to you and it trembles.

A breath, a glance, you want to wait and stare into his eyes. Drink him in when you know this is anything but right.

"We can't, please." When you say it, it scalds as you sputter it out. It hurts you both just as badly.

You want to step away. Nothing good will come about this, it burns but it's true. It would be all eyes, greedy and ravenous, on you two. The floor is a deathtrap of swirling dresses and coattails like adder tongues. Gunwook can part this sea with a step onto the floor but clear it entirely with another hand in his. You have seen him do it too many a time; take the hand of another and smile like he had caught prey, before twirling them away into the midnight.

(Envy, you don't want it, but it's envy that tears you to this and leaves you undone.)

It takes a hand and a devil to make a deal. And all the court will know by the time you step onto the floor.

I am the heir¸ you scream inside. You cannot do this, but how can you pull back when the noise in your ears is of a thousand cries. Gunwook steps closer and you have always known it, but you see it now, the pull around him, warping and pulling you in. Maybe it's the magic, latent in the air, when time doesn't freeze but it clambers and slips as you feel it happen.

Gunwook grabs you by the arm and bows.

"Your grace," and it's said with a reverence that awes and completely warms you. "May I please have this dance?" The music crescendos but all you can hear is the crash of your heart.

Days, years, and it feels like centuries, he has passed with you in the disquiet of this damned castle and these rotten people. Gunwook always held you warm and radiant, with a smile that would never put out. Long nights, spent listlessly in your study, or short days when you watched him train, muscles working under the winter sun.

(He never felt the cold, and you never wondered how, only knew why.)

Park Gunwook is a mage—and a knight—and this is forbidden—dreamt about—in every book—fairy tale—you know.

To hell with this.

It begins with ash and joy.

for context about the au click here! feel free to like or reblog if you found it interesting ⭒ masterlist

#metaphors went crazy #it was fun to write lmao #zerobase1 #park gunwook #park gunwook x reader #fantasy au #royalty au #forbidden romance #kpop #kpop x reader #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #gunwook x reader #zb1 gunwook #zerobaseone #sunny forecast: writing nights

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fatuismooches · 10 months ago

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muzzle anon here- thx for HURTING ME SO MUCH :D !!! that dottore fic is 'THE' dottore fic for me now, I will read it over and over and over again, it was an amazing experience. AND I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT

Since you wrote how the raven and sparrow's destinies are intertwined. I was thinking of a reincarnation (modern) au? Idk if you would be interested but I just keep thinking of doctor zandik and fragile reader

Kinda would be ironic if zandik is still experimenting on people to find a cure for reader

Or maybe this time they are actually healthy and happy together?

Oh maybe one day Zandik remembers his past life? How he lost reader? How they both ahem went to the other side haha like the whole "you are as beautiful as the day I lost you" thing

They can also met at an university (like how they met at akademiya) it is giving soulmate vibes but hear me out. When they first see each other, they instantly know each other, they don't know how but there is just this bittersweet feeling. Both are questioning why do they feel this desire to hug each other like they have been apart for so long

(I still cant over the death of the segments, Omega, and the end tho. Beta is my fav segment but ZANDY? GONE? NOO and then Omega also? Considering how reader told Dottore they still loved him, maybe Omega thought reader hated him while dying- Like in the end he thought about how he lost the love of reader. How much he messed up? Ouch .)

Actually wait segments didnt die (delulu talk)

Dottore: it was a prank.

Reader: wha-

Segments: *was just about to celebrate their birthday but now feel guilty they just caused a borderline panic attack*

YESSS GRRRR- Imagine if thousands and thousands of years have passed and Teyvat is unrecognizable from what it once was. Elemental energy, Visions, what makes Teyvat, Teyvat, are no more, and the world is completely modernized. Since Celestia is gone as well, the eternal punishment handed to you and Dottore is finished and you two can finally be reincarnated, and perhaps this time fate may give you a happy ending.

Modern Doctor Zandik and fragile reader... your illness is so mysterious that no medicine or treatment seems to be able to cure it, no one knows what's going on with you despite all the medical advances, you get sent from doctor to doctor, clinic to hospital in hopes of a miracle but nothing... But Dottore, he is widely renowned as one of the best doctors in Teyvat, despite his... attitude. Now obviously you could never dream of affording the money to see him but, it just so happens he hears of your case and takes an interest in you... Now, he never expected to get attached to anyone, much less his patient but, it seems that history repeats itself... (unethical doctor part 2)

Happy and healthy reader... and having an instant connection with Zandik!! Oh my gosh yes. Zandik would be the most confused and annoyed because he had never felt a connection with anyone his whole life, he's always been the one by himself. He tries to ignore it, ignore the building feeling in his chest, but as fate would have it, he finds himself bumping into you far more frequently than he'd like. You've had enough of his pretty man constantly invading your mind, so you approach him one day and it all begins from there. (I imagine if he ever dreamed of his past life with you, it'd teach him not to take you for granted. Especially if it was after a fight with you or something.)

I imagine Omega didn't regret his actions, but he still deeply lamented his relationship with you - he missed whenever you'd barge in and lavish him with your affection, how you'd freely rant to him, how you loved him. All were replaced with stone coldness. But perhaps, this is the price of selfishness, one that he had to pay.

😭😭 Segments pranking you... they feel quite guilty but at the same time, it's really nice to think you care about them so much.

#smooches talks #muzzle anon #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #IK IM ALWAYS LATE AT RESPONDING BUT THANK U FOR LOVING THE FIC MUZZLE ANON ILYSM #this ask was delicious and if theres one thing abt me im always going to give them a happy ending even if there's angst first #THEY DESERVE HAPPINESS

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ridiculoustrainsofthought · 26 days ago

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So I came up with this a while back and wasn't sure if anyone else had brought it up. But I recently checked out The Mountains of Madness from the library, and remembered bringing this up with my friends a few years back and just felt like "preserving" it. This is going to sound crazy, but it's fun to think about, so hear me out:

Have you heard of a story called The King in Yellow?

I got to looking at the source material and I'm stunned to think it may have been quite an influence on the plot of Pokemon Black and White. But I can't confirm anything since I haven't seen it mentioned as a reference anywhere in B&W.

More specifically The King in Yellow is a series of short stories where only the first four seem to be connected to the title. But there's some clear potential parallels with the first story The Repairer of Reputations, which is what I'll focus on.

So first off, the story's main character is a man named Hildred which likely has the same basis as Hilda and Hilbert would derive their names from.

Except plot wise he'd actually be more like N

Hildred Castaigne is an unreliable narrator living in a “futuristic New York City” of 1920 who explains at the beginning that he used to be carefree and aimless but there was an accident where he got attacked and fell off his horse which gave him a blow to the head. After that he was taken into an asylum where he underwent a complete personality change, pouring over old documents and literature, basically a recluse, but he gained a strong sense of ambition as he never had before! (Sounds a bit familiar of another extreme recluse who came out somewhat brainwashed in his conviction, right?) This is potentially brought on after reading a play called The King in Yellow which the book we read gets its name from.

We don't get much info about the play itself except "references" to it about Carcosa, an otherworldly kingdom that fell into decay and mentions several places connected by lakes. (I'm not sure if they're all cities within the kingdom or neighboring kingdoms.) Supposedly the first act starts as a simple medieval drama but the second act is left very vague except that it "reveals irresistible truths" which drive the reader into madness.

With that out of the way, here's where things get... Interesting?

Out of the asylum, Hildred, at some point before the story takes place, has ended up in the snares of a "Mr. Wilde"; an "eccentric" deformed man with a mutilated arm and face (the story makes note of this at several points) who has an equally twisted delight in abusing his cat until she attacks him and we get the foreshadow that she’s going to kill him at this rate. (I'm sure some of Ghetsis' would love the chance.)

Mr. Wilde may be crazy but he's said to be very smart. As the title "Repairer of Reputation" he gained wealth and power through blackmailing many powerful men and subtly raising an army of over ten thousand under a cult following by use of The King in Yellow and "The Yellow Sign" the king wears. Together they plan to overthrow the US government and begin The Imperial Dynasty of America under their new king Hildred! (Whether Wilde has an army or not is still debatable. Heck even how much influence he has is debatable since we only have Hildred's word to go by. Obviously in Pokemon the answer is yes)

Which is curious since I know a lot of people joked about with BW like... What's this whole deal with kings and the castle ruins? America never had a king.

Ah, but then the parallels come up when Hildred is oh so ready to earn his crown but Wilde tells him there's a problem. His cousin, Louis, is also in line for the throne as they're both descendents from the ancient kingdom of Hyades. And while Hildred thinks himself to be the rightful heir of The Last King, Wilde tells him that he needs to do something about his cousin first and is given a long knife.

But Hildred doesn't want to fight Louis, and the two meet several times through the story over the course of several weeks (months?).

Now up to this point Louis had kinda been in Hilda / Hilbert’s position. At first they seem friendly with each other with Louis being concerned but not intervening with Hildred's ties to Wilde. But over time we see Hildred growing more irritated by Louis' sweet and sometimes boyish nature as he tries to humor him in his delusions even after learning about the whole kingship thing.

Eventually Hildred finally snaps. But instead of killing Louis, he confronts his cousin where he does finally reveal to him about being the King and shows him all the pages of The Imperial Dynasty records to reveal to him what's going on and demand instead that his cousin should abdicate his right to the throne and go into exile! Hildred then ends up running back to Wilde's place and taking his crown and cloak in victory as he thinks he'll finally be king! ...Except Wilde ends up dying on him (finally pushed the cat too far and she murdered him.) Hildred realizes that without Wilde and his conspiracy, he personally doesn't have the means to take over. He has no connection to this “army”, he cannot read the ledger of "powerful men" to manipulate. Without Wilde, he is NOTHING. This fact suddenly has him spiralling into a full on mental breakdown before the police show up with Louis and end up taking Hildred away and we learn later he ended up back in the asylum. (Which is kind of what happens with Ghetsis in the end, he lost the one person holding his plot together, goes into a fit of madness, and albeit much later is one of the few Evil Leaders to actually get arrested.)

-Cough-

So BW doesn't really follow the plot but the point is, I think there’s actually several elements that could be derived from this specific story. The young man brainwashed and convinced he’s going to become king of a perfect society that was lost ages ago, led on by an even more deranged man who appears to have been mangled by the creatures he tortures with delight and who has been making all of the preparations for a full scale government takeover by amassing an army in the shadows. There’s a fight for the throne when it turns out the prophecy speaks of two heirs that need to fight each other, note the second “heir” is completely oblivious to this and just gets dragged into the lunacy more and more as they try to foil the plans of this takeover. And while it doesn’t induce madness automatically, Plasma believes that in order to get people to fall in line, the king merely needs to show the public that they’ve obtained the sacred Dragon which gives them authority, while in this case it’s said that all those who see The Yellow Sign have no choice but to bow down to them.

It’s just… I’m probably grasping at straws, but the parallels I see just have me fascinated.

At least in the end of BW, Ghetsis is the one to have the full out melt down upon realizing without his key to controlling the masses he's nothing instead of N like Hildred did. Not to say N doesn’t have his own lingering issues from all this, but unfortunately Hildred ended up dying in the asylum where I’m sure Louis wished (after offering several times) he could have helped him. At least Hilbert / Hilda may stand a chance.

#Pokemon #Pokemon Black and White #n harmonia #ghetsis #hilda #hilbert #lovcraftian horror #the king in yellow #While it was written by Robert W. Chambers #it's often associated with Lovcraftian horror #mostly in part because Lovecraft borrowed from it #happy halloween

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jamneuromain · 8 months ago

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Wishful Thinking Epilogue

Andy Barber x You (Reader)

Alternate Universe - College AU

Summary: A new semester. A new task. A new boyfriend, your previous professor, Andy Barber. Everything seems to be going on the right track. So why didn't it?

Warning: Angst, inappropriate teacher-student relationship, age difference, cheating, explicit language, TW: Assault/Attempt murder

A/N: This fic has some disturbing themes, and discusses potentially upsetting topics. Please read through the warning before engaging with the fic. As I have said, the fic has mentioned a number of (potentially) triggering and heavy topics, you don't have to engage further if you feel uncomfortable about one or more topics.

Wishful Thinking M. List Dancing in the Daydream M. List

“Doctor Ashner, please come to Ward 507. Doctor Ashner, please come to Ward 507…”

The buzz of the overhead speakers startles you a little, but you quickly shake it behind you as you figure out which direction is the E.R. From there, it is fairly simple to ask a nurse where is the most recent Uni-stabbing victim.

The nurse points towards the end of the E.R. hall, “That one, with the curtains shut. We had just finished stitching him up.”

You reply with a “thank you” as you head in his direction, taking in a sharp inhale as the smell of blood and medical alcohol puts your nerves on edge.

Slipping through the blue surgical curtain, you see Andy Barber lying on the hospital bed, one of his arms bare, with a stitched-up wound that looks like a centipede carved onto his flesh.

He must have sensed you, for he opens his eyes, his gaze landing on you, and he manages a small smile, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Standing uncomfortably almost with needles under your feet, you point to the corner of the bed, “May I sit?”

“ ’course.” He moves his legs for you to make a bigger space to sit.

You both fall into a cloud of silence, suffocating you.

His other arm, the arm that is not stabbed, explores little by little, finally taking your hand in his.

Your gaze falls to your joined hands.

You did not move away.

An awkward silence fills the space. Though you are in a hospital with medical staff a curtain away, Andy feels like being in court, watched by thousands of eyes and awaiting the judge to deliver the sentence – awaiting you for your conclusion … or whatever it is that could define this relationship, and he firmly believes with a large percent of probability, that you would execute the bond between the two of you.

“I-uh,” you struggle with words, clearing your throat for good measure, “How are you feeling?”

Andy’s gaze lands on his arm. The wound looks hideous. But he barely felt a thing while being stitched up. “They gave me something, some anesthetic spray of sorts.” He explains carefully. It is bad enough you found out about Laurie and his lying, he doesn’t want you to add “junkie” to the list of “Things that Andy Barber might have done to irritate you”, “The nurse said adrenaline helped. But – um, the pain would come up when the chemicals start to fade.”

You let out a small “Oh”. Then silence dawns upon you again.

For you, you don’t know what to say; for Andy, he has his mind full of things to say, but he has no idea how to start.

But clearly, the silence bothers him more than you, because he could not stand a second more with this suffocating atmosphere. Andy sits up a little, before confessing to you, “I am sorry. I truly am. For this mess. I am divorcing Laurie, and she’s …” Realizing he’s speaking ill of his soon-to-be ex-wife again, Andy changes the subject, “We are both not really happy with this situation.”

“How long?” You choose not to look at him, but rather at your hands.

“Sorry?”

“How long-” You inhale deeply, preparing yourself for the harsh answer he is about to offer, “have you and Laurie been together?”

“… Ten years.”

You truly know how to grasp the key point of this conversation, Andy thinks to himself.

“Ten-” You sound both surprised and angry, which is fair. He probably deserves your anger. You stop yourself from bursting out the curse on the tip of your tongue, “And you’re divorcing her, why?”

“There are … several reasons.”

“Well, name one.” You snap at him. Quickly gathering your emotions together, you clench your teeth from bursting out again.

Andy nods. He definitely deserves it.

“She’s cheating on me.” Andy adds, “Twice.”

Good. Because he’s surely not a cheater. But you bite that back, “I see.”

He calls out your name, but that doesn’t bring your eyes towards him, only making your hand escape his grasp, “Give me a chance, please, I promise I’ll make it right.” He whispers, close to begging, “Please don’t leave me. I can’t bear the thought of losing you. The past weeks have been miserable...”

To which you would snort, but you try to be as expressionless as you can.

“… I need you. I haven’t felt …” His voice sounds broken, “happy, for a long time. I’m a terrible person and I know it. I shouldn't have started yelling the last time we met. I’ve said … vile things. They were mean. I apologize. I know I cannot say this enough, nor ask for your forgiveness because -” He smiles bitterly, “I deserve it.”

“I accept your apology.” You take great courage in saying this, “That doesn’t mean I forgive you for what you’ve done. I need time to process my feelings and you as well.”

He whispers your name under his breath.

“I don’t think we should see each other.” The name “Andy” gets stuck in your throat like a log, paining you to say the rest of your mind, “And don’t – not this time – don’t use tricks or whatever, trying to apologize again, or come knocking at my door, or say hello even if we bump into each other. Just…” You shake your head lightly, “I need you to give me space, and vice versa.”

“Okay.” He murmurs, “I promise.”

“Do, not promise, okay?” You can’t help but be reassured. Because you know, with one more look from his direction, or one more word, your heart would undoubtedly leap his way.

“Okay.” He looks up at you, carefully asking, “Can I still like your Instagram posts?”

A rush of laughter comes unexpectedly out of your throat.

You smile, “Yeah, you can like the posts, but … don’t comment.”

He speaks your name one last time, as you get up from where you were sitting, gaining your attention. The syllables escaped his perfectly full and pink lips, hooking your heart to beat for him again.

I love you. He manages a smile, “Take care.”

“You too.” You once wished him to get hit by a car, but getting stabbed is somewhat getting even from your side. And now you wish the best for him. Wish the best for whatever works out for him.

You run into him in the Starbucks near the Sackson House two months later. The semester is coming to an end, and you are reading a few dozen papers to write your research proposal, which you’ve settled on discussing a book of YA fantasies based on one of those boring literature theories.

You are sitting beside a small table in the back of the shop, relieving yourself from prying eyes and busy customers in the front. With music playing in your ears, your attention focuses on the dragging on criticism of fantasy novels in the pdf file, without noticing a man standing next to you and pulling a small notepad out of his pocket.

He scribbles something and puts the sticker on the table.

May I join you?

That captures your attention. That familiar writing with the y tilting towards the right.

Andy. You let out a soft sigh, inching your gaze higher to take in his warm radiant smile and the beard. The beard that you dreamt of chafing your skin even after your brief conversation in the hospital.

God, you miss him. In more ways than you could have imagined.

All sounds stop. All living beings cease to exist but him.

“Yeah, um, seat’s empty.” You gesture towards the other side of the table, stumbling on your own words.

“Hi.” He takes the seat, placing his coffee on the table, and his backpack near his feet, “Hope you don’t mind.”

You would prance on him. Just fall into his embrace that you know would be burning warm. Your fingers itching to connect themselves to his hand.

“I-uh,” Andy scratches the back of his head, “wanted to tell you I got what I deserved, really. It’s not – I was – I want to tell you that you won’t be seeing me anymore here.” He glances around the coffee shop.

You meet his eyes, silently encouraging him to continue.

“Due to the whole Laurie incident,” Andy sucks in a breath sharply, “the Uni held a panel for this … thing, and they could not tolerate – well, my situation.” He chuckled drily, “In short, we have come to terms with the mess and the university required me to resign by the end of this semester and I’ve found a job as an associate professor for Boston University. I’ll be working for BU by the start of the next semester, so…”

It goes without saying that you won’t be seeing him anymore.

“I’m sorry to hear this.” You chew on your lower lip, fidgeting with the straw in your cup, rather than focusing on his face and his sad smile.

“Yeah, no – um,” Andy shakes his head in the smallest of motions, “BU is closer to my house anyway, only about a five-minute drive.”

“Congratulations, then.”

“… Went on a court too.” Andy blurts out before you say anything else, “My lawyer filed for a restriction against Laurie from approaching me – she’s had … some sort of mental illness, taken to a nursing facility in Baltimore by her parents since the judge ruled for a divorce.”

“That’s … nice, I guess.” You murmur, unsure whether the twisted feeling at the bottom of your heart is supposed to be joy or sorrow.

Now that he’s a free and single man, it doesn’t make much sense if he would continue to dwindle on you or your failed relationship, does it? But you are happy for him, truly, for getting what he wanted and a better job offer – BU is more famous than the one you are studying at, which probably comes with better benefits and a greater chance if he one day wants to earn tenure.

“Well, this is it.“ He sighs.

“This is it.” You repeat what he says, almost mechanically, afraid to look into his eyes again.

Coward. You tell yourself, only a coward would be fearing a proper goodbye.

Because deep down, you know that when you look into the pool of blue, you would see nothing else than fierce, determined love, that insane obsession of gravitating you back towards him. Or the more devastating sight: the lack of it.

What’s worse, you can’t think of a reason to stop yourself from being pulled in his direction.

You should hate him, along with the horrible things he had done to you – you still do, but you can’t shake off the fact that even though the relationship had been toxic to some extent, you always forgive him easily. Because you love him.

“Speaking of,” Andy searched his bag, before placing a small velvety box on the table, “I have something for you, and I would like you to have it.”

He pops open the box and reveals its content to you: “It’s uh- something I wanted to give you two, three months ago when we were -” He stops dead in his tracks. Clearly, he meant that “when you were good”, but he skips this part of his speech, “I know that our relationship is over and it has most certainly gone beyond the point of salvaging, but I’d still like you to have it.”

Your gaze roams over the expensive diamonds that form a ring as a pendant of the necklace.

“Andy, this is…” You shake your head. It’s too much. The gift is too much. Too expensive. Too shiny. And too painful to remind you that Andy believes he needs to move on as well.

“It’s a day collar.” He interrupts your unfinished sentence, “And I want you to have it no matter what you decide, whether you want out or - ” The sad smile makes its way to his face again, “I guess it’s not quite possible that you still want me after all … this.”

“You know that this Laurie incident would be an eternal trust issue that lies between us if we, on a hypothesis, get back together, right?” Your jaw ticks, burying your face in your hands subtly.

“Yeah, I understand.” He replies in a low voice.

“And you also know that the stabbing – one of us is bound to feel guilty towards the other, and my conscience is eating me up?”

“Yes.” He whispers your name.

“This is really fucked up if we get back together.” You put down your hands, and push the box in his direction, emphasizing, “Really, really fucked up.”

“I know.” He could barely manage his smile without forcing it, “I’m the most fucked up factor.”

You close your eyes. You must be fucking loco after hours of reading papers in a small confined space. Fuck. Fuck! FUCK! Why do you have to like him? Why?! There are fucking 3.5 billion males on Earth and this is what you choose? This one is the one that your heart desires?

How can you be this stupid? How can your heart turn a blind eye to all the hurt and bruises, the tears and cries?

You can almost hear your heart sniggering in response.

Andy, however, interprets your sanity just fine.

“You don’t want to see me, I get it.” He slowly gets up from his seat, pushing the box back to you as he does so, and buttoning up his suit jacket.

“Sit.” The word leaps out of your clenched teeth like a fucking world-class Olympic gymnast. You are mad. Mad as hell, both at yourself and your traitorous heart that crushes itself onto your ribcage at every beat, “I’m not done.”

He lets out a quiet “Oh” and sits back down, hands over his knees like an irritatingly good pupil in class.

“You – ” You start, but words hide from your tongue faster than an alphabetical monster chasing them to the end of the world, “I - ” The sheer frustration of not being able to form a complete sentence in front of this man you both hate and love washes over you. For Christ’s sake, you have wanted to prepare a full speech when you meet him again to slam that into his face since you are living perfectly fine on your own, no man needed. Not a single male creature was needed in sight.

But you crave him.

And you were probably going to regret your decision decades from now, but hey – at least your heart wanted it that way.

“I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard…” You seethe, “I can’t – I can’t live without you. I don’t know how to deal with this, want you and hate you at the same time. I just can’t.”

His sane brain is urging him to leave, because that’s what’s best for you, for him, for you both. His sane brain is screaming not to bring you any trouble.

“If you betray me like that again, swear to fucking God I’d run you over with my car.” Your hand curls into a fist on the table, adding to your previous threat, “Twice.”

His emotions, on the other hand, lock the sane part of his brain up with heavy ropes and chains, throw the key over the fire and dance in triumph.

“We should start over. Get this past behind us.” A sincere smile makes its way to his lips. He leans forward, a flash of watery sweeps his eyes but just as quickly, he blinks it away, grinning, “Hi. I’m Andy. I’m working as a professor in English Literature. Pleased to meet you.”

You shoot a harmless glare in his direction, and an eye-roll, “I’m fucking pissed off and I’m going to work on my dissertation. Unless you have something that desperately needs to come out, don’t utter another word before I finish reading this one.”

Andy shrugs, “Well, since you’re working on your dissertation, you know I’ve still got some connections with my colleagues and we could surely put in a good word -”

“And for the thousandth time, I said no.”

You nearly growl this time. To which Andy smiles.

That smug bastard thinks he can shortcut the way to your heart by allowing a teensy bit of bias introduced to the grading of your work.

“You wish.” You murmur under your breath, ignoring the way how he not-so-subtly places his hand over yours, and enjoying his coffee with a dazzling grin.

A/N: Finally! The main story of Andy/Reader is finished! I'm so happy for all your support and love for this story. There are a few drabbles/one-shots that are still in progress for this series, but in general, it's complete and I hope I can see you in another story <3

Tag List: @geminiflanagansblog @wintasssoldier @sapphire-rogers @nouk1998 @sarahdonald87 @charmed-asylum

#andy barber #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #defending jacob #professor andy barber #student reader #dancing in the daydream #wishful thinking #andy barber fluff #andy barber angst

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