#NO WONDER WHY ANNE FELL FOR HIM

[thiziri]

Commander Tim Laurence during the State Visit of the Nigerian president to London, on 09 May 1989.

[lot-of-nothing]

Entwined (Ch. 7)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Weekend getaway :)

Warnings: Suggestive themes aaaaandd a little of that internalize homophobia again

Author's Note: NO BETA BC THIS TOOK ME FOREVER GOOD LORD IM SORRY FOLKS! I moved and started a new job and I leave for Europe in a week so life has been NUTS

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Melissa led the way through the front doors of the hotel. You could tell she was excited by the highly animated way in which she spoke to you. She used her hands and fingers to gesture to you and she lingered close to you with her last word, “This weekend is about three things: the endless buffet, laying by the pool, and sex.”

The corners of your lips rose as her lips neared your own. There were still a few inches between you, but you knew that was plenty close for a place as public as a hotel lobby, “In that order too?”

Your response made the redhead laugh as both of her hands squeezed your bicep. You lost yourself for a moment while you watched her grin at you. It was the voice of a man that unfortunately ripped her eyes from you, “Melissa?” 

As she turned to face the voice, her red hair flicked over her shoulder with the spin of her head. When her eyes landed on the familiar face of her ex boyfriend, her smile faded, but her tone remained polite, “Hey, Gare.”

A brief silence fell between the former lovers (as did a thick awkwardness), and you waited patiently for one of them to speak up. Gary was the first to break the silence when he noticed Melissa’s eyes wander over to the brunette at his side, “Oh, this is my girlfriend - Lea Ann”

Melissa only nodded, remaining silent and giving a faux smile to the lofty man. It was when he realized Melissa had very little interest engaging with Gary and Lea Ann that Gary decided to turn his attention to you. With a kind smile, he reached out his hand, offering it to you along with his name, “Gary.”

“Y/N.” You return the smile and handshake, surprised at the way his face lit up at hearing your name.

“Mel told me about you when we were dating.” He quipped while wrapping his arm around Lea Ann’s shoulders, hugging her to his side. He seemed genuinely delighted to make your acquaintance - it made you wonder why Melissa refused to commit to something more serious with him.

You folded your arms over your chest, glancing down at Melissa and then back to Gary again, “Did she now?”

Gary was highly enthusiastic with how he spoke to you, recalling memories Melissa had shared with him months ago, “Of course. You were her date to the senior prom after some punk ditched her.”

You couldn’t hide your pleasure in knowing Melissa had talked about you in her previous relationship. You had always assumed she would have kept even your friendship a secret. With a great big smile, you bump your shoulder against hers lightly, “I mean, how could I say no to a face like that?”

Melissa gave a reluctant smile, changing the subject away from your relationship, “What are you guys doin’ out here?”

Gary eagerly squeezed Lea Ann to his side once more and beamed at her. The brunette shifted into his side, wrapping an arm behind his back to better lean against him. It was clear they were enamored with one another, “Early anniversary trip. Lea Ann and I met at Dave & Busters not too long after we broke up. She is real good at skeeball.” 

Lea Ann added to the conversation with a shy voice, “How about you guys?”

“A trip for old times’ sake.” Melissa’s response contained a tone that was anything other than warm. While some might not have noticed, you saw her turn snarky and her nose wrinkled ever so slightly. It was obvious to you Melissa was offended by what she thought was Lea Ann’s ‘nosiness’. The redhead folded her arms over her chest, indicating she was finished with the conversation.

Gary knew Mel well enough to give a curt nod and guide Lea Ann away from you both, “Well, I hope you two have a great time.’

“Yeah, you too.” Your voice fell as they walked away - knowing full well Melissa would be upset at this interaction when you arrived at the hotel room.

—

You shifted awkwardly near the door of the hotel room. Melissa had abandoned her luggage in the middle of the room and tossed her purse on the bed before dropping into the chair into the corner to scroll on her phone. She seemed increasingly detached from you since you had spoken to Gary. 

While the detachment made you furious, you gave her a chance to tell you how she was feeling before you spiraled, “Everything okay?”

She didn’t even look up from her phone when she replied. If anything, she seemed annoyed that you would even ask such a question, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Biting your tongue, you turn your back to her with a huff and tug open the door, “I’m gonna go downstairs.”

—

You twist the glass of dark liquor in your hand, mindlessly watching the ice swirl about in the liquid. A fire had been lit in your stomach at the realization that nothing had changed between Melissa and you. She still refused to admit her feelings for you or the opposite sex. Of course you were infuriated, but it was more of a rage fueled sadness had you refusing to look at Melissa who sat (im)patiently next to you. 

“You gotta work with me here. It’s one thing to take a weekend away together, but it’s a whole other thing to be tellin’ people that we are a couple.” Melissa sounded colder than she would have wanted, but there was no taking the words back now. You felt yourself growing angrier by the second.

It was clear Melissa didn’t truly understand why you were upset with the entire situation. With a deep sigh, you chose to explain your feelings to her, “I don’t mind that we aren’t official or whatever. I don’t even care that this is so casual. I just can’t be your dirty little secret anymore.”

“It isn’t like that.” 

Her reply was quick, but you weren’t convinced. “Melissa… Anytime someone gets remotely close to the truth, you get all spooked and then I have to deal with the consequences.”

The redhead chewed at the inside of her cheek, unsure of what to say to you. She remained facing forward, her fingers absentmindedly ripping at the napkin placed in front of her by the bartender. Mel furrowed her brow as she spoke, “I’m not spooked. I just don’t want people all up in my business.”

You weren’t convinced.

“Either way... You know how I feel about you... how I have always felt about you, and I-” In an instant, you regret opening your mouth. You could see a faint blush spreading across her cheeks from the corner of your eye. As always, you had gotten ahead of yourself, and now it was time for you to finish explaining your emotions before Melissa found a way to steer the conversation away from the vulnerability it was currently steeped in, “For me, it feels like you’re ashamed... of me, and it’s not a great feeling.”

Melissa glared at you for a few moments, and then you saw her left hand reach out to hold you by the back of the neck to pull your lips to hers. Your heart began pounding in your chest as you felt Mel’s teeth teasing your bottom lip and her right hand creep up to the middle of your thigh.

When she pulled her lips away from yours, her voice was low, “I’m sorry I made ya’ feel that way. I could never be ashamed of you.”

Regardless of the people sitting all around, you dove back in for another kiss. You felt her melting into you. With every second you kissed her, Melissa inched closer to the point in which she had slipped off her chair to stand between your knees. Her hands braced against your thighs and breasts pressed to your chest. 

The redhead was breathing heavily when she finally drew her lips away from yours. She had turned her head to glance around the room in search of prying eyes when you buried your nose in her hair. 

After Melissa’s worries of being watched were soothed by the absence of onlookers, she turned back to you, capturing your face in her hands. She spoke in a low tone which caused you to swallow hard, “Let’s go upstairs, hon.” She took your hand, tugging you along after her towards the hotel lobby. 

The deafening chorus of casino games, live music, and both winning and losing gamblers was all but a mere whisper to you the moment Melissa peered over her shoulder at you with a smile - a smile that only confirmed your long standing love for her.  

When she had you in the elevator, you were up against the wall before the door was closed with her mouth against yours. Mel was busy trailing her lipstick from your lips to your neck as you choked out a dizzied concern, “We are... going to miss our... uh, dinner reservations.”

“Where at?” Melissa was far too busy tasting your collarbone to give much attention to the thought of going out for dinner. She was far more interested in getting you up to your hotel room to get more acquainted with the hotel bed.

“Some fancy steakhouse.” You murmur before returning her fervor. By now the elevator doors were shut and neither of you had given much more thought to pressing a button to get the elevator moving. Instead you were more consumed with the urge to turn the tables on Melissa and press her against the elevator wall. 

Melissa’s hands were woven tightly into your hair as you pinned her to the wall. Your force only propelled her further into the raging desire she felt for you. Mel didn’t need to use any words to convey how much she needed you. Everything about your kisses was sloppy and steeped in desire. 

She allowed one of her hands to wander to the back of your neck as your lips drifted down her neck to her cleavage. The redhead held you tight with one arm while the other clumsily reached to illuminate the button to floor 15, “We can just order pizza.”

Her efforts to get the elevator headed towards your floor weren’t swift enough. The elevator dinged and the doors to the lobby parted, allowing a familiar tall, bald headed man and his brunette girlfriend onto the elevator with you both. 

With the introduction of Gary and Lea-Ann onto the elevator, Mel and you partially parted. She kept an arm around you with a hand resting on your hip and her body was pressed to yours as she suppressed a coy smile. Melissa raised a manicured hand to her lips, attempting to tidy her smeared lipstick with her thumb. All the while she stared at you down like a starved lion. 

Your heart was pounding and you couldn’t take your eyes off her. It took everything in you not to confess your love then and there. She was beautiful like this - seemingly liberated of her shame and enthralled with the premise of being caught in such a public act of affection. 

Gary was obviously confused by your closeness and he cocked his head, needing to double check to see if it was really Melissa who was really pinned into the corner of the elevator by you, “Melissa?”

“Oh, hey.” She cleared her throat and acknowledged him with a wave of her hand. You attempted to move your hands from her waist, but her hand caught your wrist to prevent you from pulling away. 

The elevator devolved into silence as it began moving to the upper floors. You couldn’t see the looks on Gary or Lea-Ann’s faces as you were too busy watching every shift in Melissa’s expressions. You wondered if this would be the end of your relationship. Your heart was pounding and you were growing anxious at the thought of the potential rejection headed your way. The only thing that kept you from completely losing it was Melissa’s manicured hand on the back of your neck, softly twirling your loose locks between her digits. 

Her eyes flickered between the rising elevator numbers, your company, and the elevator doors. Melissa was terrified of who Gary could tell. Through all of her family and friends, she knew this moment could reach someone she knew in a matter of hours. Her personal fears were being slowly subdued by her own willpower. As her eyes drifted back up to your face, they were now filled with a subtle determination to prove herself to you. 

Melissa pushed against your abdomen so you would step aside, but she kept both hands on you as she talked to Gary, “How’s your night goin’?”

“Good. I- I didn’t know you two were-” Gary couldn’t hide an ounce of his confusion at seeing you together. 

“Together? Yeah, well... Now you know.” The redhead finished his sentence before adding her own bit of attitude at the end of her thought. A lump formed in the back of her throat at admitting your relationship out loud, but there was no taking it back now. 

While Melissa was dealing with her own inner turmoil, you were relishing in the fact that Melissa described you two as being ‘together’. You were riding that high even after the elevator stopped on your floor and Mel took your hand to pull you after her. 

It was Melissa who lifted your arm to place around her shoulders when you stepped off the elevator. She also turned back to face her ex boyfriend with a cheeky grin, “Have a good night you two.”

Link to Chapter 8

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore, @jeridandridge @petty-femme27, @darkcolorphantom, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @cosmichymns

[goodnightmemes]

ABIGAIL (2024) SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ Fuck. That’s not part of the plan. ❜

❛ You grab me like that again, I may have to respond. ❜

❛ Y’all might want to hold on to something. It’s about to get real accelerated in this bitch. ❜

❛ You know the rules. No real names, no backstories, and keep the grabass to a minimum. ❜

❛ I’m like a expert at reading people. ❜

❛ Wow. You might be the least perceptive person I’ve ever met. ❜

❛ Crisp $100 bill, you can tell me one true thing about me. ❜

❛ You’ve basically got a fucking neon sign over your head that reads “muscle.” ❜

❛ That’s cheap, considering you come from money. ❜

❛ Don’t ever fuck with me. I will know. ❜

❛ Can you take the blindfold off? It’s really tight. ❜

❛ We’re keeping you here until your father gives us some money. ❜

❛ Do you know who my father is? ❜

❛ Can you promise me you’re not gonna let anybody hurt me? ❜

❛ I pinkie promise you that I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you. ❜

❛ I’m sorry about what’s gonna happen to you. ❜

❛ Oh, my God, you’re gonna be a real pain in my ass, aren’t you? ❜

❛ I don’t scare easy, so when I do, I pay attention. ❜

❛ I like you. You’re scary, though. ❜

❛ What’s going on? What’s going on is that we are fucked. ❜

❛ What if we just, like, you know, like, give her back and say sorry? ❜

❛ If seven million per person isn’t worth the risk, then what is? ❜

❛ Everyone stay alert. Any threat is gonna come from outside, so we set a perimeter and we hold it. ❜

❛ Hey, listen. I don’t trust any of these other fucks. So let’s watch each other’s backs. ❜

❛ His head fell off. ❜

❛ Why do you have a dick on your face? ❜

❛ It looks like a fucking wild animal ripped him apart. ❜

❛ I, for one, would like to revisit the cut-and-run idea. ❜

❛ This whole thing is a trap. ❜

❛ Can you pinkie promise me that you’re not keeping a secret? ❜

❛ We can take ’em. ❜

❛ We’re gonna get through this. ❜

❛ Why’d you do it? Bring us here to kill us. ❜

❛ I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but you don’t sound very calm right now, Little Miss Paranoid, so forgive the precaution. ❜

❛ Wow. You got a lot going on up there,  but your brain’s not quite putting it together, huh? ❜

❛ You’re not as smart as you think you are. ❜

❛ Fucking put it down. I’d really prefer not to have to fucking shoot you. ❜

❛ We kidnapped a fucking vampire. ❜

❛ Someone has been messing with us ever since we got here. ❜

❛ We got to get out of here. There’s got to be another way. ❜

❛ Okay. What do we know about vampires? ❜

❛ What are we talking about, like Anne Rice or True Blood, you know, Twilight? Very different kind of vampires. ❜

❛ Okay, how do we kill a vampire? ❜

❛ Hey, we got a real fucking situation here. So I don’t give a shit what you think. Either you’re helping us, or you’re dead weight. Which is it? ❜

❛ There’s pool cues in the game room. Go sharpen ’em into stakes. ❜

❛ I’m not betting our lives on your fucking hunch. ❜

❛ All right, let’s go kill us a fuckin’… vampire. ❜

❛ You’re so bloody and so gross. ❜

❛ Oh, if you fucking say, “I told you so.” ❜

❛ Listen, you sit here and bleed, or you trust me. ❜

❛ Vampire on my ass! ❜

❛ I’ll kill you fucking fucks! I’ll rip your fucking heads off and gorge myself on your blood! ❜

❛ I’ve had a few centuries of experience. ❜

❛ Tell us how to get out of here, and we’ll let you go. ❜

❛ Hey, what’s gonna happen to me? Am I gonna turn into a vampire? ❜

❛ We would never have taken you if we knew who your father was. ❜

❛ Haven’t you wondered why I brought you all here? ❜

❛ If this is about revenge, why didn’t you just kill us? Why’d you bring us here? ❜

❛ What can I say? I like playing with my food. ❜

❛ If you touch that door, I will shoot you. ❜

❛ Fuck that shit. I’m not staying down here…with that. ❜

❛ Open the door, and I’ll let you keep all your blood. Oh. Organs, too. ❜

❛ Wait. A deal’s a deal. ❜

❛ Still gullible at your age, you fucking freak? ❜

❛ That’s why I took this job. With that money, I can start over, you know? ❜

❛ God, everybody’s got to be a fucking victim now. ❜

❛ Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hit a fucking nerve? ❜

❛ Fuck this job. ❜

❛ Fucking dream team. ❜

❛ You got any other bright ideas, Nosferatu? ❜

❛ Goddamn it. Why did you all listen to me? This isn’t gonna work. This is so fucking stupid. ❜

❛ You got people out there that you care about? ❜

❛ You and me. You’re my friend. ❜

❛ Lot of painful memories. But it’s never too late to make new ones. ❜

❛ I brought you back here to offer you a deal. ❜

❛ You fucking set me up. ❜

❛ You can die here, or you can help me kill [name]. ❜

❛ Yes, drink, and you’ll be one of us. ❜

❛ Our game ends here. ❜

❛ Well, well, well. Look who came to join the party. ❜

❛ Here’s the thing about being a vampire. It takes a long fucking time to learn how to do all the cool shit. ❜

❛ I came when you needed me. I’m here now. ❜

[thislovintime]

1967 and 2012; photos by Michael Ochs Archives and Leigh-Anne Dennison.

By popular demand, a comprehensive collection of Peter and Michael quotes:

KDWB radio, August 1967

“Michael used to run a hootenanny at the Troubadour in West Hollywood, and so I met him there. But that’s all, just to say hi to, pretty much.” - Peter Tork, GOLD 104.5, 1999

“I have a great deal of respect for Mike as a musician and a songwriter. He’s very good. He could make it on his own easily. Also he’s one of the funniest people I’ve ever met.” - Peter Tork, Flip, August 1967

“Mike’s a song writer, one of the best in the country.” - Peter Tork, The San Francisco Examiner, November 23, 1968

“I remember staying at Mike’s house in Hollywood when we first started filming the series. It was the upper story of a two-story building on a little hillside. Mike’s wife, Phyllis, was wonderful. Mike and I laughed a lot and played music together. I remember that time very fondly.” - Peter Tork, When The Music Mattered (1984)

“Michael was very kind to me at the outset. He put me up through the entire shooting of the pilot process. He and his wife had a wonderful little apartment just big enough for a guest on the day bed, which overlooked Hollywood. I remember a Thanksgiving Day when the air was crystal clear in a way that I’ve never seen it before or since in L.A., and you could see all the way out to Catalina. It was wonderful. That crystal clarity symbolizes the whole era for me. Mike and I wrote a few things together. We were very comradely and very buddy buddy, and it was a wonderful time, with Mike’s then wife, Phyllis, and Christian, their little infant baby. The early days of the pilot shooting were just great by my lights and I had a wonderful time.” - Peter Tork, quoted in Hey, Hey, We’re The Monkees (1996)

“After [Peter] went down for the first interview, I asked how how he felt he did and he said, ‘Well, it looks good. I’ll see how things go.’ And they kept calling him back. He liked Michael Nesmith. That was the first thing that happened.” - Stephen Stills, Tiger Beat, July 1967

(Please read the following quote with a grain of salt. While the author, Glenn A. Baker, interviewed Boyce, among other people, for this book, Boyce’s recollection isn’t, to the best of my knowledge and research, verified by a second first-hand account.)

“I did give Peter a voice audition on Saturday’s Child but I had to finally say, ‘look Pete, I can’t play banjo and you can’t sing. If I played the banjo I’d sound like you singing, I have to erase the tape.’ So Peter left in a huff and came back with Michael, who pulled off his motorcycle helmet, crashed it down onto the console and demanded ‘why don’t you let Peter sing? You guys never let us come to the sessions, it’s just you two with Davy and Micky.’ So I said ‘well that’s the way it should have been in the first place Michael, you know what I mean? You should have stayed with the Randy Sparks Trio.’ In the end we let him do a couple of tracks on his own just to calm the situation down a little.” - Tommy Boyce, Monkeemania: The True Story of The Monkees (1997)

“When I heard that frail banjo over the top of my 12-string [on 'You Told Me'], I thought, ‘Boy, this is good. This is really, really good.’” - Michael Nesmith, YouTube, 2019

“At the Troubadour […], Peter Tork strolled in, banjo on his knee. Later, in-between ‘Alvin’ and a great banjo finger-picker, Peter yelled a hello to Mike Nesmith, who was standing in the upstairs darkness and the two fell into a hilarious patter routine. Peter climbed out long enough to display great talent, great warmth, great humor and, in general, a great personality. Mike did the same when, later, I asked him how the album was coming. ‘Album? Oh, Uh huh. Nice weather, yes? Album’s gonna be good. How are you. Hi, Pete, how’s the album?’” - Ginni Ganahal, TeenSet Magazine, February 1968

Q: “Being that your tastes were similar, and you both were the first to leave the group, why didn’t you form a group with Peter Tork?” Michael Nesmith: “I don’t like Peter Tork — never have liked him, I don’t like him as a man. I have to qualify that now: Me not liking somebody doesn’t mean that they’re bad people — he could do a lot of wonderful things for and to me. Not liking someone to me is a very gut reaction — a very visceral attitude. The first reaction to Peter was one of dislike. I don’t like him, I have never liked him, and I probably will never like him. I didn’t enjoy playing in a band with Peter, and I still don’t. Our tastes were much the same, our political beliefs were similar, our ideas of fun, pleasure, our intellectual capacity, our ability to talk to each other — we were very much alike. I have a great respect for Peter — his technical abilities on an instrument and the positions he took were well conceived ideas, always a posture with a motive, never emotional. I don’t like my mother. She happens to be a very nice lady — never done anything that would make me not like her — but I don’t. I like my wife.” - Hit Parader, February 1972” - Hit Parader, February 1972

“There’s one song ['Come On In'] that Peter Tork sings on that Missing Links album where he sounds absolutely super. He sounds great; he’s right on the button. Sings it good and he wasn’t supposed to be a singer. The other guys were always pushing him out and Mike Nesmith was always sort of like threatening him, putting his fist through the wall doing all this kind of shit. I’m sure Peter could kick his ass if he wanted to, but he never did. Unbelievable.” - Davy Jones, The Monkees Day By Day

Q: “Are you thinking about doing any recording in the near future? An album, perhaps?” Peter Tork: “I’d like to. I haven’t got any way of getting started. If you look around, you’ll see that you’re not exactly sitting in the luxurious mansion that someday who went through the money I did would be expected to be living in. As a matter of fact, I’m living pretty close to the bone right now. I’ve got my picture out in the Hollywood circles, and I’m getting some gigs. I’m thinking about doing some commercials. If I ever get enough money together, I’m going to go into the studio and make enough demos to get an album made. I’ve got some new material I’ve written, like ‘Ladies’ [sic] Baby,’ which would make a good album cut. If worse comes to worst, I’ll just make an album myself.” Q: “Have you considered Michael Nesmith’s Pacific Arts label? Your bass and his lead guitar supplemented one another superbly.” PT: “Michael at that time was somewhat of a reticent fellow. He had a hard time giving anything away, in terms of praise. He’s changed a lot. Before the transformation, he was a pretty begrudging fellow. He was not given to compliments. I have not come to know him very well since his transformation. I was thinking about getting him involved. If I have anything to show him, I’ll definitely get it to him. I hope he’s interested.” - Blitz!, May/June 1980

“Well, I have only the vaguest memory of coming close to recording for Michael’s label. I actually believe that nothing whatever was ever done. I’m not even sure I laid down a single track. Your letter reminds me that there was some indication of a potential project, but I think that’s about as far as it went. I have no direct info about Geffen’s dumping Michael’s label. He himself might be a better source. Check out his website, videoranch.com. Thanks for asking. Take care. Peter” - Ask Peter Tork, The Daily Panic, 2008

“Michael’s in a force field of his own and not much gets in there.” - Peter Tork, TV Guide, June 2000

“I still have a lot of respect for Michael.” - Peter Tork, WDBB, February 2006

"I have a lot of respect for Mike Nesmith and we’ve structured ways to work together." - Peter Tork, Phawker, circa 2012; re-published 2019

“You should’ve heard Mike singing some of those old Jimmie Rodgers The Singing Brakeman songs. He was so good, that stuff was just — you know, that stuff just warmed the cockles of my heart, you know. He could just do that stuff all day long. Just — I could just sit at his feet and listen to that for hours.” - Peter Tork, WHNN-FM, 2012

“Well, I’ve never been really close with Michael [Nesmith] for some reason. You know, I have a lot of respect for him and admiration. But somehow we’ve never integrated. We’ve never been warm with each other. We worked together and did pretty well at it really." - Peter Tork, Clevescene, March 13, 2017

“There are two common and, to me, repugnant notions about the Monkees. Number one, that I was the only one who had any talent, which is patently absurd. It’s as unfair and as unkind as it is stupid. The other one is that I was the only musician. I wasn’t the only musician and I wasn’t much of a musician. Peter was a much more skillful player than I was by some orders of magnitude. He wasn’t a singer nor was he a writer. What I was able to do was write tunes — I could sort of pull those out of a ht. But they weren’t very good, were they? I mean, they were the tunes that were on the show from time to time, so that’s what made the, seem better than they were.” - Michael Nesmith, Monkees Tale (1985)

“Everyone was accomplished—the notion I was the only musician is one of those rumors that got started and won’t stop—but it was not true. Peter was a more accomplished player than I by an order of magnitude, Micky and Davy played and sang and danced and understood music.” - Michael Nesmith, Rolling Stone, March 8, 2012

"There really couldn't be two more incompatible characters. Mike is pragmatic, Peter is ethereal. Peter is laid-back, Mike is impatient. Mike is oil, Peter is water." - Micky Dolenz, I'm A Believer: My Life of Monkees, Music, and Madness (1993)

"I will miss him — a brother in arms. Take flight my Brother." - Michael Nesmith, Facebook, February 2019 Q: "You were talking to the press in Australia a few months back and you said something about Peter Tork that surprised a lot of fans. You said, 'I never liked Peter and Peter never liked me.' I’d never heard that before." Michael Nesmith: "It was something that was known on the set [of the Monkees’ TV show]. They knew Pete and I went our own ways. This wasn’t a dislike of someone who had committed some infraction against me or some sort of crime. It was just, 'Oh, this guy eats those little noodles and I don’t like ’em and I can’t eat with the guy.' It was kind of an off-putting thing. It was, 'Oh, he likes to play paintball and I don’t like to play paintball.' So we never played paintball, but every once in a while we’d find ourselves in the same paintball park because we owned it, so we had to keep it clean and do all the stuff we had to do and we did do it. We didn’t have too many civil words to say to each other, but we also didn’t fight all the time. We just didn’t say much. There wasn’t a lot to say. Peter would play me the songs that he thought were good and I didn’t. And I would play him the songs I thought were good and he wouldn’t. Then we just left it at that. Partners in silence." - Rolling Stone, December 3, 2019

Australian TV interview, 2019

[goldengalore]

Never Alone

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants to meet Y/N’s family, but she is hesitant to introduce him to them and he can’t figure out why. When he discovers the reason, he’s hurt that she felt the need to hide it from him. This makes Harry question Y/N’s feelings for him, while she thinks he’s doubting her anxiety issues.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: anxiety, toxic family, invalidation of mental health issues, angst, mentions of sex but no actual smut

A/N: Listened to Matilda and Renegade by Big Red Machine ft. Taylor Swift a ton while writing this. Also, to anyone reading this who has ever felt invalidated about their mental health issues, I see you and I hope you know you are never ever alone ❤️

***

Harry and Y/N hadn’t been dating for very long when he introduced her to his mother, Anne, and his older sister, Gemma.

He knew that meeting them in person for the first time would be stressful for Y/N because of her social anxiety as well as her obsession with making an excellent impression on every single person in his life. So, he cleverly began easing her into it by having her pop in briefly during his usual FaceTime calls with Anne and Gemma.

It worked because when he asked her to come home with him for Christmas, she didn’t even hesitate to say yes. That didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous about it though. Between her anxiety and his excitement, they were both a ball of jitters on the ten-hour flight from LA to London.

Harry’s family fell in love with Y/N. Once she conquered her initial timidness, she fit in perfectly with them. This didn’t come as a surprise to him at all, but Y/N was completely blown away by the love and warmth that his family showered her with. She was even brought to tears from it.

After a joyous holiday with his family, Harry found himself imagining what meeting Y/N’s family would be like. To him, that was the next logical step in their relationship, and he was eagerly anticipating it. So, when they’re a whole year into their relationship and she still hasn’t introduced him to her family or expressed any intention of doing so, he can’t help but wonder what might be holding her back.

She even had the opportunity to do so when she recently visited her family for a few days. She could have taken him with her. He even offered to tag along, but she refused, claiming that her mother had come down with some nasty stomach bug, so it wouldn’t be the best time.

He can’t lie. Her refusal hurt. Although he tries not to make a big deal out of it, it eats at him over the next couple weeks, so one day, he just decides to bring it up.

For most people, it’s a lazy Sunday—the perfect opportunity to sleep in and not get out of bed until noon. Not for Harry and Y/N though. No, the two creative souls got up bright and early to use this time to write and draw. Harry sits on one couch with his guitar in his lap and his songwriting notebook next to him along with his phone, which is recording everything he plays. On the other couch is Y/N, her sketchbook perched up against her bent legs, her pencil gripped between her skillful fingers as she works on a drawing.

Harry has been staring at her for some time now while mindlessly strumming his guitar. She’s too immersed in her task to sense his gaze on her.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, baby?” she responds without looking up from her sketchbook.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm?”

He pauses the recording on his phone before asking, “Why don’t you want me to meet your family?”

The question pulls her attention away from her drawing to his face. The hand holding her pencil is frozen on the paper.

“I told you,” she says softly. “It’s not that I don’t want you to meet them. I’m just... waiting for the right time.”

He cocks a brow. “The right time? Will there ever be a right time? We’ve been together for a year.” He really doesn’t want to sound pushy or demanding, but he also just wants her to know how he feels. “You and my mum are constantly sending each other cat videos. You and Gemma have inside jokes that I’m not even a part of. Meanwhile, I find myself wondering if your family even knows who I am.”

She gives him a small, slightly amused smirk. “H, they know who you are. Trust me.”

“You know what I mean,” he mumbles, looking down at his guitar. Sure, they may know him as “Harry Styles the singer” or “Harry Styles the actor,” but that’s not what matters to him. He just wants them to know him as Y/N’s boyfriend, that’s all.

“They know that we’re in a relationship,” she confirms.

He waits for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. “Okay... And? How do they feel about that? Do they ask about me? Do they even want to meet me?”

She averts her gaze, her pencil moving across the page again. “They ask about you every time I see them.”

“Then what’s holding you back?” he inquires gently.

Her response is so delayed that he wonders if he’s even going to get one. “I’ll talk to them,” she says after a minute. “We’ll arrange a time for you and me to go see them together.”

His eyebrows lift up in surprise. “Really?”

She nods. “Yeah. If you really want to meet them, I’ll try to make it happen.”

He doesn’t know what to say at first. He didn’t expect her to concede so quickly. “Thank you, lovie,” he says once the words finally come to him.

She just gives him a brief smile and returns to her drawing, making a few more pencil strokes before asking, “Wanna see what I drew?”

“Always.”

She tries to bite back an excited grin as she turns her sketchbook around to show him. He shifts the guitar in his lap and leans forward to take a look. He instantly recognizes himself in the sketch. It’s him sitting as he is now, on the couch with his guitar. Every detail of his facial features is intricately depicted from the focused furrow of his brow to the shape of his nose to the stubble on his jaw.

He stares at it in awe. “That looks amazing.”

“Thanks!”

He tears his gaze away from the sketch and looks at her. “You were drawing me this whole time? I thought you were brainstorming ideas for your next piece.”

“I was, but you just looked so cute sitting there with your guitar. I mean, you were practically begging to be drawn.” She shoots him a flirtatious grin.

“Mhm. Right.” He shakes his head at her, smiling. “Can I keep it?”

“Of course.” She carefully rips the page out of her book and hands it over to him.

“Another one for the collection,” he states happily, referring to his growing collection of sketches that she’s drawn of him over the past year. In the beginning, she used to hide them from him. Then one day, he stumbled upon her sketchbook sitting on the dining table, opened up to a page containing a flawless illustration of his Vogue magazine cover, and he was astounded. Y/N’s whole face flushed red when she found him staring at it, but he was quick to reassure her that he liked it and asked if he could keep it.

“I don’t mind, you know. That you like drawing me,” he told her that day. “It’s a compliment, if anything, and it’s no different than me writing songs about you.”

Her face brightened at his revelation. “You write songs about me?”

“All the time.”

Ever since that conversation, she no longer hesitates to show him these drawings and he makes sure to keep each one in a safe place.

“I still can’t believe you’ve been saving them all,” she says now. “You really haven’t thrown a single one away?”

“I could never.”

***

A whole week passes by, and it’s like their conversation about arranging a time to meet Y/N’s family never even happened because she doesn’t bring it up again. Harry starts to wonder if she only said that to appease him for a while and stop him from asking. That annoys him. It would be one thing to tell him that she doesn’t want him to meet her family; it’s another to make false promises just to shut him up.

He wishes he could drop it. But he can’t. Especially now that he is almost certain that she’s hiding something from him.

She has a meeting today with the owner of an esteemed art gallery in LA, who offered her the opportunity to hold her first solo art exhibition. She has spent the last couple months preparing for the exhibition, which is less than two weeks away. Her best friend and business partner, Rosie, will be accompanying her to the meeting. Rosie shows up at Harry’s house around 10:30 that morning.

“Y/N’s upstairs, still getting ready,” he tells her after inviting her in. “Should be down soon though.”

“I’m surprised I’m ready before her for once. That’s quite the accomplishment for me.”

“Yeah, I, um—” He releases a sheepish laugh, touching his fingers to his lips. “I may have made her a bit late getting out of bed this morning.”

Rosie opens her mouth to say something, then closes it. He raises his brows at her expectantly, but she waves a dismissive hand and says, “Oh, I was just going to ask what you two were up to, but then I answered my own question.”

A coy grin tugs at the corners of his lips, as the memories of his sensual morning with Y/N play back in his mind.

He and Rosie take a seat in the living room. He offers her something to eat or drink while they wait, but she politely declines. That’s when the thought occurs to him. If there is anyone who knows Y/N better than him, it would be her best friend, who has known her for the majority of her adult life. Surely, if Y/N is hiding something from him, Rosie could be the key to helping him figure out what and why.

“Hey, this might be a random question, but have you ever met Y/N’s family?” he asks.

“Yeah, a few times.”

“What are they like?”

Her hazel eyes narrow slightly. “Why do you ask?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that Y/N and I have been together for a year and she still hasn’t introduced me to her family?”

Rosie hesitates. She glances over her shoulder at the stairs before answering quietly, “Look, let’s just say... Her family isn’t very supportive of her.”

His heart sinks. “Shit. Really?”

She nods. “They’re like the type of people who think mental health problems aren’t real problems or that tough love can fix everything, including anxiety.”

He winces.

“Yeah…”

“Well, that explains a lot,” he says, referring not only to Y/N’s reluctance to introduce him to her family but also her emotional reaction to his family accepting her with open arms. “Why didn’t she just tell me that? I would’ve understood.”

“You know how Y/N is. She keeps a lot to herself, and she doesn’t even do it on purpose most of the time.”

“I know, but...” He shrugs. “I just thought we’d reached that stage in our relationship where we could tell each other anything. At least that’s how I feel when I’m with her.”

She had so many chances to tell him the truth about her family. Even if she didn’t want to get into the nitty-gritty details of it, all she had to do was tell him that they’re not nice people for him to drop the topic altogether. He feels guilty now for bringing up her family so much, but she never gave him any indication that they were bad people. Even when she went to visit them recently, it didn’t seem like she was dreading it. So, how was Harry supposed to know? How can he possibly know anything about her if she refuses to open up to him?

They hear her footsteps rapidly descending the stairs now.

“I’m ready!” she shouts.

Her outfit for the meeting is sleek and professional—a teal blouse loosely tucked into a pair of slim, high-waisted black trousers. Harry helped her pick it out this morning when she was struggling to decide between a few different options.

“How late are we?” she asks breathlessly at the bottom of the stairs.

Rosie checks her phone. “Not that late. We can still get there with five minutes to spare.”

As Rosie heads to the door, Y/N walks over to Harry to kiss him goodbye.

“Bye, baby. I’ll see you later,” she says.

He squeezes her hand. “Best of luck with the meeting. Remember to breathe.”

“I’ll try!”

And then she’s off.

***

Sometimes, Y/N can’t tell if someone is actually behaving differently around her or if her anxiety is causing her to see things that aren’t there. There have been instances where she thought someone was acting off around her and became convinced that they were upset with her only to find out that they were just having a bad day and it had nothing to do with her at all.

She wonders if this might be the case with Harry. He has been acting strange the past few days. The shift in behaviour is subtle. A kiss that ends a moment too soon, a smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes, a laugh that feels just a little bit forced. Most people wouldn’t take notice. But the thing about anxiety is that it forces you to notice everything. It’s as if the brain is in a constant state of hypervigilance, scanning its environment for the slightest sign of a threat.

Harry has been at the studio all day. She saw him briefly around seven o’clock this morning when her eyes fluttered open to find him all showered and dressed for the day, grabbing his phone off the nightstand.

“Heading to the studio. Love you,” he told her, planting a hasty kiss to her forehead before leaving.

She couldn’t fall back asleep after that, so she decided to start her day too and put some finishing touches on the drawings for her upcoming exhibit. However, her overthinking mind made it impossible to focus. She ultimately decided to take her drawings over to her apartment and work there instead.

Over the past six months, she has practically lived at Harry’s house with how much time she spends there. But her apartment has always been there in case she needs some time alone or, like today, she just needs a change of scenery to sharpen her focus.

It didn’t occur to her at any point to text Harry and let him know where he can find her after he finishes up at the studio. Or perhaps, her subconscious made her withhold that information on purpose to see if he would even notice or care for her absence.

Late that evening, she receives a call from him.

“Hey, where’d you go?” he asks when she picks up.

“Oh, I’m at my apartment. Couldn’t focus today, so I thought I’d try working here instead.”

“Hm. Wish you’d told me. I would’ve headed straight there from the studio.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles in response.

“It’s all right. Be there in a few.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

A nervousness seeps through her after their call. A kind of nervousness she hasn’t felt since the very early days of their relationship when she wasn’t quite comfortable around him yet. She doesn’t like this feeling and tries to distract herself by cleaning up the kitchen where she just finished having dinner not too long ago.

Harry has a spare key to her apartment, just like she has one to his house, so when she hears it turn in the lock, she knows it’s him. Her heart is in her throat.

She’s washing her hands in the kitchen sink when the door opens.

“Hi, my love,” he greets her. He’s wearing her merch today. Well, technically, it’s his merch that she helped design. Their merch, as he would call it.

“Hey,” she replies. As she wipes her hands on the towel by the sink, he walks up behind her and slides his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair. She turns around to face him. “How was your day?” For some reason, the question comes out sounding awkward, at least in her head, but Harry seems unfazed.

“Productive. We wrote so much today. Song after song. I couldn’t believe it. Tyler suggested we pull an all-nighter, but everyone was tired, so we decided to go home…” A dimpled smile emerges on his face as he adds, “And I wanted to see you, so…”

He plants a sweet, lingering kiss to her lips. She should feel the stress dissipating from her body. She should feel a sense of calm washing over her like cool ocean waves on a hot summer day. But none of that happens.

His hand sneaks under her shirt, squeezing her bare waist before wandering upward to her breast.

“Sorry,” she says, pulling away suddenly. “I, um, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

He blinks a few times, thrown for a moment. “Oh. Okay. No worries.” He takes a step back and scratches the back of his neck, eyes searching her face. “Everything okay?”

She doesn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah, I think I’m just starting my period soon, so you know…”

“Ah. Well, maybe we can just cuddle then. If you’re in the mood for that.”

“Mhm.”

They lay on her plush black couch together, her head on his shoulder, his fingers running through the lengths of her hair. He’s humming some unknown melody—probably a new song he’s been working on. She feels her heartbeat slowing down, finally.

Then he says, “Hey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

Her heart picks up again. This is it. This is what she’s been dreading. She has no idea what he’s about to say, but of course, her mind jumps to the worst case scenario.

“Yeah?” she says, trying to keep her voice level.

“It’s about something Rosie told me.”

She frowns. “Something Rosie told you? What would that be?”

“She told me about your family, how they… they’re not supportive of you and your struggles.”

Her frown deepens. “She told you that?” She sits up now. “Why would she do that? She has no right to be sharing that kind of information about me.”

He sits up too, confusion taking hold of his features. “It’s not like she shared it with some stranger, lovie. I’m your boyfriend. Why is it so bad that she told me?”

“Because I didn’t want…” She trails off.

“You didn’t want me to know?”

She wordlessly looks down in her lap.

“Why?” he asks, the hurt apparent in his voice.

Forcing herself to look at him, she answers, “I didn’t want to disappoint you. You seemed so excited to meet them, and you bring them up all the time—”

“Yeah, that was when I knew nothing about them. If I’d known how they’d treated you, why the fuck would I want to meet them?” He runs a hand through his hair, clutching the ends briefly before letting go. “And I brought them up all the time because you were always so bloody vague about the topic. What was I— What was I meant to think? I’m not a mind-reader, Y/N.”

“I know. I know you’re not a mind-reader.” She tries to reach out to him, but he doesn’t seem to notice her outstretched hand as he turns away, so she lets it fall on the couch.

“Well, sometimes I feel like you expect me to be one because you never tell me how you really feel or what you’re really thinking, and I’m left to figure it out on my own.”

“Okay, that’s not true.” She shakes her head, growing a bit defensive now. “I know I used to be like that in the beginning, but you can’t tell me I haven’t gotten better since then because I have. You’re just angry right now and I—I can understa—”

“I’m not angry,” he insists, though he sounds pretty close to it, and it’s making her panic because although she has seen him get angry before, it’s never been at her.

His eyes fall shut for a moment. He seems to compose himself before continuing calmly, “I’m just frustrated because I feel like I’ve told you everything about me, I’ve bared my entire fucking soul to you, and I know it’s not as easy for you to do the same, but it’s not like it’s a walk in the park for me either. You say that it’s your anxiety that keeps you from opening up to me, but at this point, I can’t help but wonder if you just don’t feel as strongly about me as I feel about you.”

She flinches at the last part, a sense of betrayal settling like rocks in her stomach. “Y—you think I use my anxiety as an excuse?”

“That is not what I said.”

“That’s what you implied.”

“No,” he stresses, clenching his jaw. “You’re purposely misunderstanding me.”

“Why are you here, Harry?”

Puzzled green eyes stare back at her. “What?”

“This has clearly been on your mind for some time now. If you really think that I don’t feel strongly about you, that my anxiety is just some cover-up, then why are you still wasting your time with me?” Her heart thuds wildly in her chest as she spouts, “Is it just for the sex? Is that it? I mean, that’s why you came here tonight, right? Just for a quick fuck. And when you couldn’t have that, you decided to pick a fight with me.”

It was mean. Quite possibly—no, definitely—the meanest thing she has ever said to or about him. And it was undeserved. And she regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth.

The expression on his face switches from disbelief to disgust to pure pain in a matter of seconds.

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing thickly. “You’re right. That’s what I’m here for, Y/N. Just a quick fuck. Because I’m some lowlife prick that would use you for sex and get mad when I can’t have it. You figured it out. Amazing job.” He claps his hands and stands up, taking long strides to the door.

“Wh—where are you going?” she stammers.

He ignores her and shoves his socked feet into his Vans. On shaky legs, she hurries over to him.

“H, where are you going?”

As his left hand reaches for the doorknob, she grabs his other one.

“No, wait, don’t go.”

“No, you’ve made it clear to me the kind of person you think I am. Thanks for your honesty, Y/N.” He speaks without looking at her. She can only see his side profile, but it’s enough to catch the tears forming in his eyes.

He tries to pull his hand away, but she squeezes it tighter, pleading with him, “I didn’t mean it. Please don’t go. Baby, please—”

“I’m tired, Y/N,” he sighs out, sounding utterly exhausted. “I just want to go home.”

He manages to yank his hand free from her grasp and leaves the apartment, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Y/N stands there, staring at it for the longest time, before making her way back to the couch in a daze.

She doesn’t know why she said it. He was just trying to explain his inner thoughts and feelings, not attacking her, but her brain latched onto that one comment about her anxiety and blew it way out of proportion. It struck a nerve somewhere inside her, reopening old wounds created by people in her past who invalidated her struggles.

But Harry is nothing like those people. No, he is a far cry from them. No one has shown her the level of kindness and understanding that he has, and she fears that no one else ever will, which makes the thought of losing him catastrophically more painful.

She lies down on her side on the couch, curling her legs into herself as the first sob of many escapes her body.

***

The big day has arrived.

Y/N’s very first solo art exhibition that she’s been working her ass off on for the past few months takes place tonight. The gallery that offered to display her work made an agreement with her to donate a portion of the profits to a local mental health charity—something that Y/N has always wanted to do. She’s always dreamed of using her art to give back to causes that matter to her, and she is finally at the stage where she can do that.

Her art career has taken off this past year. She was doing well before, but this year has catapulted her career to heights she couldn’t have imagined. She knows Harry has a lot to do with it, since the limited edition merch she designed for him attracted millions of new eyes to her work, not to mention the fact that she started dating him afterwards, which further piqued people’s curiosity about her as a person and an artist. But Harry, being the humble man he is, argues that it’s her talent that keeps bringing people back to her work, not him.

Whether he admits it or not, Harry has changed her life in more ways than one. Even if he never speaks to her again, she will be thanking him for the rest of her life.

Over the past week, she has typed a hundred different apologies to him, deleting each one without sending it, convincing herself that it’s not good enough, that he doesn’t want to hear from her, that he probably hates her guts.

She has missed him all week, but tonight, that feeling cements itself deep inside her chest, mixing perilously with the fear of having to talk about her art with strangers. It would’ve helped to have Rosie here at least, but her fiancé’s mother was in the hospital after a medical emergency and she needed to be there for them.

Y/N feels incredibly alone.

The people working at the gallery have been lovely. She hardly had to do anything at all because they took care of the entire setup. Now, they’re preparing the refreshments table, and just the mere sight of all that food is making her nauseous.

As hard as she tries to keep her shit together, she crumbles and bolts towards the exit. One of the gallery workers tries to inform her that the exhibit is about to start, but she barely hears him through her heart pounding in her ears. Once outside, she starts walking down the sidewalk in a random direction and finds an opening between two buildings where she can take a moment to herself, away from other people.

The fresh air entering her lungs is somewhat soothing, so she tries to focus on that, leaning a hand against one of the buildings.

“Y/N?” says a deep, familiar voice from behind her.

It can’t be, she thinks to herself, but when she turns around, there he is. Standing on the sidewalk. Dressed in dark, indiscriminate clothing and a hat, which casts a shadow over most of his handsome features. He’s wearing his Gucci square-framed glasses that make him look like a college student.

“Harry? What are you doing here?”

He steps towards her, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I was sat in the cafe across the street, waiting for your exhibit to start. Saw you run out. Are you okay?”

Instead of answering his question, she asks in a weak voice, “You came to see my exhibit?”

“Of course I did,” he says, as if the concept of him missing it is unfathomable. He places his hands on his hips and adds with a faint smirk, “You think I, your number one fan, would miss out on your first solo exhibit? C’mon.”

Tears flood Y/N’s eyes, blurring her vision.

Harry’s face falls. “Oh no. Don’t cry, lovie.”

The tears streak down her cheeks now, ruining the makeup she spent so long on applying tonight. “I thought you hated me.”

He reaches towards her and delicately places his hands on her arms. “I could never hate you.”

“But you should! You should hate me because you’ve been nothing but patient and understanding with me and I treated you like shit in return and I hate myself for it and I’m so sorry—”

“It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not!”

“Shh, come here.” He pulls her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest, holding her there until she calms down. Then he draws back and lifts her chin to make her look at him. “Listen to me. I did not come here to make you cry and ruin your big night, okay? I came here to support you. Now you’re going to put on that beautiful smile of yours and you’re going to go back in there and you’re going to put on this wonderful exhibit—”

“I don’t think I can.” She shakes her head.

“Yes, you can. You’ve worked so hard for this, my love. You deserve this. Don’t let your fear tell you otherwise.”

She sniffles, thinking for a moment. “You’re going to be there?”

“Yes. The whole time,” he reassures her. “I promise to be discreet though. I’m not about to steal the spotlight from you.”

“I wouldn’t mind even if you did, to be honest.”

“See, that’s the fear talking.” He pokes her softly in the chest. “This is your night and your night only.”

A part of her wishes he would just pull her back into his arms and let her stay there forever, safe and warm and comfortable. But he’s right. She has worked too hard and come too far to allow fear to stifle her now.

“Okay,” she says finally. “Okay, I’m going to go back in.”

He smiles widely. “That’s my girl.” He kisses her and sends her off with a few more encouraging words.

For the first fifteen minutes of the exhibit, as the first batch of visitors trickle into the gallery, the voice in Y/N’s head is screaming at her to run out the nearest exit and not look back. It takes everything in her to keep her feet planted where she is and withstand the racing heart and the churning stomach and the sweaty palms.

It isn’t until people start coming up to her to ask questions about her art that she begins to feel any semblance of calm, which is surprising, considering that this is the part she was most afraid of. Once she gets into artist mode, articulating her artistic ideas and techniques in front of these strangers comes naturally.

She spots Harry every now and then, wandering around the gallery with everyone else, blending in remarkably well in his dark clothes and hat and glasses. At one point, while she’s talking to someone, she sees Harry in the distance, holding up his phone with the camera aimed at her. He winks when he catches her eye.

By the last half hour of the exhibit, Y/N’s throat is dry and hoarse from talking so much. She can’t believe how many people were interested in discussing her work with her.

While she’s taking a break to have some water, she hears someone shout, “There she is!”

She turns to find Jeff and Glenne walking towards her, smiling and waving like proud parents.

“So sorry we’re late,” says Glenne. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

Y/N shakes her head. “No, it’s totally fine. I didn’t even know you were coming.”

“Are you kidding?” says Jeff. “We’ve been looking forward to this.”

Y/N told them about the exhibit when she and Harry invited them over for dinner last month. She didn’t expect them to remember. The fact that they did means everything.

“We were going to buy something, but it looks like everything’s sold out, huh?” says Jeff, looking around.

“Oh, we’re so coming early for the next one,” says Glenne.

Y/N smiles at the determination in her voice. “Thank you for coming. You guys have no idea how much it means to me.”

Her heart is so full. Whereas the night started with her feeling petrified and alone, she now feels more loved and supported than ever. To say that the exhibit was a success is an understatement, and having Harry, Jeff, and Glenne all there for her was the cherry on top because success tastes so much sweeter when you have people to share it with.

***

Harry is bursting with pride. Watching Y/N put on this exhibit tonight has been quite a treat. She has blossomed from someone who used to not think very highly of her artistic capabilities into a self-assured artist right before his eyes, and he has loved being able to witness her growth.

Now they’re at his house, having Thai food, and Y/N, who hasn’t eaten all day due to nerves, is devouring everything so quickly that he worries he might not have ordered enough food for them. Luckily, that doesn’t end up being the case.

Afterwards, as they’re placing their dishes in the sink, Y/N tells him, “I saw you sneaking pictures of me at the exhibit. Like a little fanboy.”

He laughs. “I hope you don’t mind. You just looked so in your element.”

She bites her lip. “Can I see them?”

“Sure.” He takes his phone out of his pocket and opens up his camera roll. He places it on the counter so they can both look together.

Each photo shows Y/N talking to people who came to see her work, her hands poised in the air as she describes her creative process or her inspiration behind a specific piece.

“You look so confident,” he comments. “And happy.” He looks up at her from his phone and nudges her softly with his arm. “I’m proud of you.”

For a second, it seems like she’s about to break down into tears again but then contains herself.

“I really don’t deserve you,” she says.

He gives her a gentle look, knowing that she’s referring to the hurtful words she fired at him that night in her apartment. The words that burrowed deep under his skin for a few days until he gained some clarity and realized that she’d only said them because she felt attacked, that she didn’t actually believe them. Of course, that didn’t make it okay, but it did soften him towards her a little. And knowing Y/N, he could safely assume that she was far angrier at herself than he was at her.

“Y/N, I know you didn’t mean what you said. I mean, it still fucking hurt, but I know they were just words said in the heat of the moment… Right?”

“Yes,” she replies without hesitation. “And I’m so sorry, not just about what I said that night, but also what I didn’t say about my family, for hiding that from you.”

“No, I never should’ve pushed you to tell me in the first place.”

“But you never pushed me, Harry.” She turns her body towards him fully, leaning against the counter. “You just asked because you were curious about that part of my life, the same way I was curious about your family before I met them. It’s just that my family is… They’re nothing like yours. It’s not like they’re terrible people. They’re just not warm or affectionate, and they see any display of emotion as a sign of weakness.”

He quirks a brow. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, lovie, but they sound like robots.”

“You’re not far off,” she replies with a shrug. “They have this toughness, this stoic resolve that I used to envy when I was younger, until I realized that I didn’t want to be like that at all. As a child though, when your whole family is like that and you’re the anxious one who can’t get your emotions under control, it’s hard to feel normal. My parents didn’t know how to handle my anxiety, so they tried to mold me into them, and when that didn’t work, they just started denying my feelings altogether. Every time I would try to talk about my feelings, they would shut me down, tell me to suck it up and toughen up and stop being so goddamn sensitive.”

Hearing that makes Harry’s chest ache. Y/N is a sensitive person, sure, but he never viewed that as a shortcoming. In fact, it’s one of the many things that drew him to her because he is the same way. His sensitivity has allowed him to be more empathetic in his relationships and more vulnerable in his music—qualities that he also noticed in Y/N.

“I got tired of trying to explain it to them,” she continues, “so I left and tried to make something out of my art career. And God, my parents hated that. They were never the creative types; they thought anything related to art was a waste of time. They kept telling me I was wasting my potential to be something bigger, something better than an artist. And at one point, I started believing them, but then I met people like Rosie, who weren’t emotionless robots and who actually appreciated art for what it is.

“And I made a life for myself out here, pouring my heart and soul into my art, and I’ve tried so hard to keep this new, amazing part of my life separate from that part because I don’t want them to ruin this for me.”

“That’s why you didn’t want me to meet them?” he asks gently.

“Well, that and the fact that they’re convinced that you’re just some hotshot superstar stringing me along while sleeping with ten other girls at the same time because they don’t see how someone like you could ever fall in love with someone like me. And they make sure to remind me of that every time I go see them, which is just so fun,” she says sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Harry doesn’t really care that her parents see him as some pompous asshole obsessed with sex. What does bother him, however, is that they try to make Y/N feel like she somehow doesn’t meet his standards, that she isn’t good enough for him because that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“How come you still visit them?” he asks. “Not judging, just curious.” If it were up to him, he would never let them see her again.

She sighs. “I don’t know. I guess I always felt obligated to? I felt like they did care about me, even if they sucked at showing it. But the older I get and especially this past year, I feel less obligated to put up with their shit. I’ll probably keep visiting for now, just not as often anymore.”

“You don’t have to deal with them alone, you know.” He takes her hand in his. “I’m more than willing to go along for moral support.”

“That’s really sweet, but… It’s hard enough hearing them say disrespectful things about you when you’re not there. If you were there, I think I might start throwing hands.”

He chuckles. The idea of his dear sweet Y/N, who couldn’t hurt a fly, threatening to fight her family for disrespecting him makes him melt inside.

“Okay, well, I understand if you’d prefer to go on your own,” he says. “My offer still stands though, if you change your mind.”

She smiles. “Thank you. I appreciate that. And I promise to be more open and honest with you moving forward. I really am trying.”

“I know you are.” He looks down at their hands, rubbing his thumb over the back of hers. “Can’t be easy when you were told to bury your feelings down all through your childhood.”

“Yeah…”

When he looks up from their hands, he finds a peculiar look on her face, her eyes tender and almost hypnotic as they stare back at him.

He frowns slightly. “What?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. Just feeling extra lucky tonight.”

“Oh.” He smiles, nearly blushing under her intense gaze. “Sooo, when’s the next exhibit? Because I have some suggestions.”

Her brows lift up curiously. “Suggestions?”

“Yeah, mostly for the refreshments table. I feel it was a bit lacking.”

She gasps. “Not the refreshments table! I worked so hard on that!”

“Hm, well, clearly not hard enough.”

She pouts. He chuckles and pinches her bottom lip before leaning in for a kiss, stopping just by her lips.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

“Love you more.” She completes the kiss.

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

[crimsonhydrangeavn]

I got a question for Garrett, what would happen if MC decided pamper him

Like complimenting him daily

Telling him to rest and spend time

Reminding him he's enough and that perfection isn't always the answer and that MC fell in love because who he truly is and not the one he shows outside of Saint Anne

Instead of going out to dinner, making home cooked meals and etc.

And also help him get the proper help he really needs. That poor baby needs a hug ;-;

Oh my, this is literally the sweetest ask ever! Just the thought of you taking the time to try and heal Garret warms my heart! So much so I'll can't help but share a few little spoilers about his past. I'll make sure to mark them so you don't accidentally spoil yourself if you don't want to!

Honestly, I think Garret's initial reaction would be to happily accept the compliments, home cooked meals, and quality time chalking it up as what a "healthy" relationship should look like. That being said, he would absolutely spoil you and reciprocate all of those sweet and loving gestures.

When it comes to the positive affirmations and being told that he doesn't need to be perfect... well it'll take some time for him to fully believe your words.

At first he'd think your just being kind and saying what expected of wonderful life partner. However, once it sunk in that you were being genuine and you actually meant it... He'd have a really difficult time accepting it.

SPOILER STARTS BELOW

Garret was raised to be his parent's golden only child. That being said, nothing he did was ever enough for his parents. Straight A's? Why not straight A+'s? You won first place in a race? Why aren't you competing in the nationals? What's that? You won a national competition? Why didn't you beat the previous record? Oh you did? Well you need to focus on other extracurriculars if you want to get into the same Ivy league school your father went to. Nothing he did was ever enough for them, however he was far better than his classmates when it came to nearly everything. Grades, athletics, extracurriculars, looks, body, social acumen, etc. All of the girls in his private school wanted to be with him and all of the guys wanted to be him.

However he never saw any of them to be worthy of his time, not until you came along that is...

END SPOILER

The thought of someone like you, the object of ALL of his affections, believing that he's worthy? That he doesn't have to run several miles a day and practically starve himself to maintain his model-esque figure? That he doesn't have to spoil you in riches beyond your wildest dreams?

It'll be a lot for him to understand and accept. However, once he finally believes your sincerity, the poor guy cling onto you and will break down into heart-wrenching sobs.

Finally, finally someone accepts him. Not for the perfect mask he's been trained to wear from a young age, but actually loves and accepts him for who he is on the inside.

And it's not just anyone. It's you. The one he adores, the one he's been completely and hopelessly devoted to since he first saw you, the only one that truly matters.

He would be a completely wreck, but with your patience and kind words he might actually have a shot at healing himself and actual redemption.

Of course, that'll all depend on your actions in and outside of game. ; )

[ioaezz]

hi sweetheart! idk if requests are open rn but if they are could you do head canons of the aib characters finding out their partner is the queen of hearts, or just any of the game masters/face cards. Preferably with female reader. Tysm ♥♥

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ QUEENDOM aib characters finding out that their s/o is the queen of hearts and game master (headcannons!)

note: thank you sm for requesting i absolutely love this idea, i really couldn’t wait to write it ( i apologise if something is incorrect, i haven’t had the chance yet to peacefully watch season two but i really wanted to write this )

hikari kuina —

- when the witch hunt ended she was worried about you because she couldn’t find you anywhere but chishiya assured her by telling her that you probably had already left with arisu and usagi

- chishiya then led her to one of the control rooms where they reunited with arisu and usagi

- kuina immediately asked them whether they knew where you were but when they said they didn’t her worry increased

- but she promised herself she would go find you as soon as she was done with this

- the room full of computers left her slightly speechless and she really didn’t know what to think as chishiya and arisu spoke

- as the four of them discussed who could possibly be the game maker, all the computers lit up

- kuina’s held her breath as the game master spoke but when your face clearly appeared on the screens she couldn’t deny it anymore

- her eyes widened and her mouth fell open as your name slipped out of it

- she couldn’t comprehend how you were the one to create this hell not after all the intimate moments you shared

- chishiya had warned her about you, she should have listened but she couldn’t when you were so sweet and loving

- while chishiya had absolutely no idea that you could possibly be the game master he knew to be wary of you because of your specialty in heart games

- kuina quietly watched you laugh while explaining that there would be more games, her heart clenching at the thought that you perhaps never even loved her

- in that moment she truly wished to see an alien instead of you or anyone else for that matter just not you

- when arisu remembered that you and kuina were dating he questioned her whether you had told her anything that could be useful but her response was quite defensive because she was very upset

- she’ll try to forget about you and remind herself that you have to be beaten so she could go home to her sick mother

- she couldn’t help but miss you

- when she saw the fireworks go off, indicating that arisu and usagi had beaten you she felt her eyes watering as she quietly mourned you despite everything you did

- she realised that there was a small part of you that truly loved her

morizono aguni —

- this man is thinking about you 24/7

- he can’t find you anywhere nor anyone who might know where you are

- akane wasn’t much help when he attempted to describe you she only gave him a weirded out look

- so when he found arisu he was ecstatic

- he sat by the river preparing himself for any answer that arisu might give him

- except for the one where you’re the game master

- his movements stop and he feels like he’s about to throw up

- he doesn’t actually listens to what else arisu is saying

- aguni would feel very betrayed and angry, he’s sure that if you were in front of him he’d kill you

- but with time he slightly calms down but he refuses to talk about you to anyone

- he’d question everything you said and did

- tbh he wouldn’t even be surprised anymore if everything you said were lies

- he does wonder though why you became a game master and he’s slightly disappointed in himself that he never even suspected you

- don’t expect him to forgive you for everything you did, he won’t

- but he knows that he still loves you even though you ruined his life

rizuna ann —

- ann had noticed you leaving during the witch hunt but she didn’t think much of it, assuming that you were looking for a place to hide

- but when the game ended and you weren’t anywhere to be found, her concerns grew

- tatta eventually noticed the frown adorning her face and tried to reassure her by telling her that perhaps you went with kuina and chishiya

- while ann knew that was highly unlikely, she kept repeating it in her head so she wouldn’t just stand there

- a day passed and you still hadn’t returned so ann and tatta decided to drive around the city while the other citizens of the beach immigrated to the center of tokyo

- but her search for you had to wait as a new game started

- ann and tatta noticed arisu, usagi, kuina and chishiya hiding while attempting to run away and quickly stopped to pick them up

- she quietly listened to them discuss about the king of spades but quickly straightened up when usagi asked if you were even human

- ann turned around slightly and pretended to ignore the pitying look that kuina gave her as she asked them what you had to do with it

- the color drained from her face and her eyes were wide as arisu told her that you were the game master

- she quickly turned back into her seat while blinking rapidly to stop the tears from forming

- fortunately the king of spades managed to distract her for a while so she wouldn’t think about you

- ann took it pretty hard but pretended like nothing happened and denied feeling hurt by it

- it was only when she was laying beside kuina, taking her last breaths that she let a tear escape

- the last thing she saw were fireworks, her last thought being how you would be together in another life one where nothing would come in between the two of you

ryohei arisu —

- as soon as he realised that you weren’t beside him he started searching for you

- both he and usagi looked everywhere for you but when they were unable to find you, they went to look for the control room with heavy hearts

- the two were left dumbfounded when they saw the hundreds perhaps thousands of screens with bodies littered all across the room

- shortly after chishiya and kuina arrived at the scene before the screens lit up while a cheerful song played

- his heart stopped the moment he realised it was you on the screen

- his emotions were eating him up and his heart was clenching so heart he thought he was about to collapse

- his hands were shaking and he barely managed to keep himself from falling as he watched you smiling joyfully at him

- he barely comprehended what was happening around him as you announced the new games

- he wondered how you could do something like that to him after everything you went through together, after all the things you said to one another

- but he realised that he couldn’t try to justify your actions nor forgive you because he couldn’t betray karube and chota like that

- so he played the games with a broken heart beyond repair

- when he and usagi entered the last game venue he felt his eyes watering

- there you stood with a wide smile as you welcomed them as the queen of hearts

- as the game went on he realised that you truly had no idea what love was despite him having declared his love to you multiple times and shown you affection

- when you revealed that you made the seven hearts game specifically for him and his dead friends he was ready to shoot you

- but to escape the borderlands he had to win and he can’t win if you’re not alive

- he could feel usagi’s concerned glances as you continued manipulating them, making them question everything they knew

- but at the end when you gracefully died with a smile on your face, one that would haunt him for the rest of his life, he knew that you had grown to love him in your own twisted sick way

shuntaro chishiya —

- chishiya had quickly noticed that you were gone but despite his concern he left to find the control room

- he knew that you could handle being on your own for a few hours so he thoughts he could quickly get over with it before he and kuina would search the city for you

- but as you appeared on the countless amount of screens with open arms and a wide smile he realised that he probably would never see you again

- he couldn’t stop the way his face fell at the realisation that you had manipulated him

- chishiya knew he should have listened to his gut feeling but it was too late now

- he cared too much about you, much more than he normally would

- he felt like cursing you and shoving you off a building but he couldn’t ignore the stinging pain in his heart

- when kuina turned to him with wide concerned eyes he played it off by saying that he should have expected it from someone like you

- and during the whole time that he played games you wouldn’t leave his thoughts

- he wondered whether you made the collar that he was wearing or perhaps you just made the design

- the overthinking wouldn’t stop and he hated himself for ever loving you

- but as he was laying against a car with a bullet in his chest, he replayed all the moments he shared with you

- the final and last blow came when the fireworks went off and he got given an option of staying or leaving

- his heart shattered at the realisation that you were dead

- he looked at the exploding queen of hearts cards and wondered if you ever meant what you said to him, and as much as he hated it he knew that he had meant every word he said to you

suguru niragi —

- tbh he had better things to worry about during the ten hearts game so he only thought about you when everything had calmed down

- he was sitting on the ground while wrapping some bandages around his burned body when he wondered what you were doing

- when he found the king of clubs game he was actually looking for you and was slightly annoyed to see you weren’t there

- but he saw arisu and his friends so he wanted to ask them

- unfortunately he was too slow and the game had already started so he decided to ask after the game

- after kuina and arisu gave him a high-five he questioned them about your whereabouts

- he rolled his eyes as they all nervously glanced at each other before they told him that you were the game master

- he was not expecting that shit

- at first he’d think that they all went crazy but as he thought about it, it did make sense

- he would feel furious at first then he’d calm down

- niragi would wonder who of you was crazier: you, a sadistic liar or him, an abusive, psychotic narcissist

- it didn’t take long for him to conclude that you were ‘definitely crazier’ than him

- even though he found out that you were the game master, niragi would still run around looking for you

- after he shot chishiya and was dying on the floor not too far from the blonde, he would think about you

- now he was a 100% sure that you manipulated him into thinking that he loved you bc he’s sure that he’ll never love someone

- suddenly the large sign of the queen of hearts exploded and his heart dropped as he realised that you died

- fireworks went off indicating that they had won and could leave but tears were falling from his eyes as he kept his gaze steady on the rooftop where you had died

yuzuha usagi —

- usagi was breathing heavily as she watched the beach burn until she thought about the last time she saw you

- it had been in the beginning of the game and you promised her to hide while she went to help arisu

- but as she looked around she realised you weren’t there

- arisu managed to convince her to go to the control room with him after promising to help her looking for you after

- but the after never came when they found out that you were the game master

- usagi felt devastated as she watched you talk on the screens with a smile

- she wondered whether you ever faked the words you said

- but even if you did she wasn’t ready to let go of you yet

- she claimed to hate you and everything you did but her heart already clenched at the mention of your name

- at night she cried into arisu’s shoulder as she wondered where it went wrong

- during the games she managed to distract herself long enough to forget you for a couple of hours but when the adrenaline started to disappear you would haunt her mind endlessly

- when time came to play against the queen of hearts she felt like she could die of heartache alone

- arisu had offered to go alone but usagi refused to let her friend go against you all alone

- but reality really hit her when you stood there with a pretty dress and a charming smile on your face that usually would have swooned her

- for the entire game she had to hold back tears anytime she looked at you

- pain, betrayal and anger took over when you treated her as if you weren’t making people play to survive

- it was only when she looked up at you as she was bleeding in arisu’s arms, that she recognised a part of you by the look in your eyes

- it was the same look you gave her anytime she kissed you after a game with blush coating her cheeks or when you brushed your teeth in the morning while looking at her through the bathroom mirror with upturned lips

- she felt a sob take through her body and she knew the worst had yet to come

- and her prediction was right, you looked at her with a peaceful smile on your face before the laser went right through your head

- as your body fell to the ground, usagi rushed towards your body with trembling hands as she clung onto your body for the last time

[sissylittlefeather]

Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: Chapter 7

A/N: I told you I'd be rolling the rest of these out pretty quickly. Please don't give up on these two...

Need to catch up? Masterlist here.

Warnings: a head injury, lots of angst

Word count: ~1.7k

Reminder: this is FICTION. Please do not come at me if your favorite people don't act the way you think they would/should or if events are a little altered. It's called fanFICTION for a reason. Thanks 😬

Vivian is gone. He proposes to Priscilla in December of 1966.

******

In the early spring of 1967, Elvis and Priscilla go shopping together in California. Elvis knows their wedding is coming and he tries hard not to think about the fact that he does not want to get married. Instead, he tries to focus on Priscilla. He does love her. Maybe this won't be as bad as he's afraid it might be.

And then they hit a stoplight next to a billboard. Elvis's mouth drops open. Priscilla groans.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Elvis is in awe. It's Vivian. She's in a cigarette ad on the billboard, right there. It's been so long since he's seen her that there's a sharp pain in his heart. He remembers how they ended and is overwhelmed with regret. Why didn't he chase after her?

"The light is green." That's why. He looks over at Priscilla in the passenger seat and steps on the gas, letting Viv fade away behind them.

"I wonder how she's doing. I guess she's doing pretty well if she's on a billboard."

"Elvis..."

"I should call her."

"No, you really shouldn't." He can feel Priscilla bristling at the thought of him reconnecting with Viv.

"I just want to congratulate her on her modeling success, Cil."

"I'm sure. No. I'm not letting you turn her into your new Ann Margaret."

"She was around long before Ann." He says it under his breath, but she hears him and sighs deeply.

"You're not helping your case."

"Priscilla, if I want to call her, I will." She purses her lips and looks out the window. He looks through the windshield determined. She's not his wife yet. And even if she was, he's a man and he'll decide who he wants in his life and when.

Priscilla doesn't say another word about it when they get back to the house in Bel Air. In fact, she doesn't say anything to him at all. They get in bed in silence and he lays there wide awake, his thoughts racing, but mostly focused on one thing: Viv. It's been years since he's seen her, and he's definitely thought about her from time to time, but he has no idea where she is or what she's up to. She could be married for all he knows. That thought makes his stomach turn. He tries to think back to the billboard and whether she was wearing a ring. But they probably would've made her take it off anyway. Was there a subtle tan line?

He's overthinking this and he knows it. He needs something to take his mind off of Vivian and what happened the last time they were together. More flashes have come back to him since the event, holding her foot in his hand and kissing her ankle, her running her fingers through his hair, the way she tasted, and all it does is make him miss her more. He decides to go to the bathroom and try to read or watch TV. But as he slides out of bed and makes his way into the tiled sanctuary, he catches the cord to the television and everything goes black.

******

When he comes to, his head is pounding and throbbing and there's a lump the size of a golf ball on his head.

"Fuck! Goddamnit!" He writhes on the floor in pain, yelling cuss words. Next thing he knows, Priscilla is in the doorway.

"Elvis! What happened?!"

"I fucking fell! I think I really hurt myself. Goddamnit. It hurts." Priscilla runs to call the doctor and the rest of the important people in Elvis's life. As he lays on the bathroom floor in pain, he sees things that frighten him, but the most noticeable is his mother. He must be dying. That's all there is to it. And if this is the end, there's only one person he wants. "Vivian!"

Priscilla comes back into the bathroom where he lays on the floor.

"Did you call for me?"

"No. Where is Vivian?" She swallows hard and looks down at him on the floor.

"She's not here Elvis. I'm here."

"No. Get her. Please. Now."

"Elvis, I-" Just then the doctor arrives, closely followed by other members of the Memphis mafia. They get him back into his bed, but he doesn't lay still. He rolls around in pain, clutching different parts of his body. The doctor diagnoses him with a concussion and he's advised to stay in bed for a few days. The guys file in to see him and make sure he's okay. Priscilla sits next to the bed silently.

"Is there anything you need? Anything we can get you?" Sonny asks sincerely. Elvis grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him close. He whispers in his ear.

"Get Vivian. Please. I need her." Sonny nods, understanding his assignment.

"You got it, boss."

The Colonel arrives and surveys the damage. He pulls Priscilla aside.

"How is he, really?"

"He's in a lot of pain. He keeps asking for that girl, Vivian." The Colonel looks into her face seriously. He shakes his head.

"It is imperative that he doesn't see her. He needs to know that he has you. Your marriage is scheduled for less than two months from today. It would destroy his image to bring her back into the picture. Can you handle this?" Priscilla gives him a determined look.

"I can."

******

When Sonny calls her, Vivian is too in shock to respond immediately.

"He what?!"

"He fell and hit his head. It's not good, Vivian. And he's asking for you."

"For me?!"

"Yes. You have to come."

"Come pick me up." She gives him her address and waits nervously. It doesn't matter how long they've been apart. If he calls for her, she comes running. That'll never change.

She rides with Sonny to the Bel Air house, the whole time preparing herself for what might happen when she arrives. What she never expects, though is to be absconded by Priscilla the second she walks through the door.

"Hey, Priscilla. I heard he was asking for me?"

"I'm not sure who told you that, but it's not true. The only person he's asked for is me." Viv's eyes narrow. She doesn't trust Priscilla as far as she can throw her.

"Sonny said-" She's cut off by Priscilla grabbing her hands in her lap.

"He's my fiancé."

"I know that, but he's also my friend."

"Vivian. He's going to be my husband soon. You confuse him and you know it. Why would he call for you? I'm asking you to leave now. Please. For me." Vivian looks at her in shock.

"You're not going to let me see him, are you?"

"It's for his own good, Viv." She stands up and turns back to Priscilla.

"My name is Vivian. He's the only one who calls me Viv." She looks around uncertainly. "You know, you and I were friends once. Will you at least tell him I was here?"

"Of course. Now, will you please go?" Vivian nods slowly, walking to the front door. Why would Sonny say he had asked for her if he hadn't? But maybe Priscilla was right. He didn't need her confusing him.

Still, she makes it outside before she completely falls apart. When she does, she's surprised to find strong, warm arms around her. She looks up into his face.

"Sonny?"

"I've got you, honey." She lets her legs go out from under her as Sonny lifts her into his arms. He carries her to his car and places her gently in the passenger seat. She lets him drive her back to her apartment and carry her up the stairs.

He stays with her for the next two days, providing the comfort she so desperately needs.

Something blooms inside her for Sonny as she finally resigns herself to the fact that Elvis will be married soon and there's nothing she can do about it.

Does she fall in love with Sonny? She doesn't not love him. So when he proposes three years later, she decides she loves him enough. Why would she say no? Elvis is happily married with a child and she's almost 30. What does she have to lose?

******

When Elvis comes out of his post-concussion haze a few weeks later, he turns to Priscilla and asks one last time.

"Vivian?"

"She didn't come. She seems to be happy with Sonny."

"Sonny?!" His heart breaks one last time. This is what she was doing when he needed her most? He doesn't need her anymore.

He marries Priscilla in May of '67 and Lisa Marie is born in '68. He does the Singer Special and things finally start to look up for him. His career is reignited and he's happy-ish with Priscilla.

But in 1971, when Sonny comes to him and asks him to be his best man as he marries Vivian, Elvis spends more time than he should shooting guns in the shed. Thankfully, no one bothers him or they'd see the tears of rage and envy and something else he doesn't want to think about as they slide down his face.

Their conversation is over before it even started. And after this they'll never talk again.

******

Until Chapter 8

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @jhoneybees @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia

[m-jelly]

Hello Jelly! What about my favorite friends-to-lovers trope?

The reader and Levi are friends, but are secretly in love with each other. They act like a couple, but do not confess their love yet.

At the next sleepover, tired Levi and the reader fall asleep hugging each other and sleepy Levi accidentally says: “Sweet dreams, my love.” The reader hears this.

In the morning, she starts a conversation with him about this, which ends with a mutual declaration of love and lovemaking where Levi and the reader take each other’s virginities. NSFW of course ❤️❤️❤️

Love you ❤️❤️❤️

Sweet dreams, my love

Levi x fem!reader

Modern AU, uni life, romance, fluff, friends-to-lovers, smut, virginities, gentle smut, aftercare.

It's the next morning after Levi sleepily confessed his feelings. The two of you talk things out, leading to a sweet and gentle moment. As you start kissing you begin to explore each other.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a

@youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn

@bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @notgoodforlife

@demonic-bird @searriously

You and your best friend had no lectures today, so you were meant to have a nice lie-in, but it was impossible. Last night as you drifted off to sleep you heard him say my love to you. So, you were sitting on the bed with Levi sleeping next to you as you thought things through.

Levi inhaled deeply and shifted on your bed. He opened his eyes and gazed at you. "Hey." He rubbed his eyes as he said your name. "Are you okay?"

You nibbled your lip as you thought things over. "Uh, well..."

He sat up and ruffled his hair. "You can tell me anything." He smiled at you. "We always tell each other everything."

You felt your cheeks heat up. "Last night before you fell asleep, you called me my love." You looked over at Levi as he went bright red. "Did you mean it? Does calling me love hold some meaning?"

Levi lowered his head. "Ah, shit...uh...I..." He released a long sigh. "I meant it. I've had feelings for you for a very long time. I've been deeply in love with you. I've wanted to say something, but we're best friends. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or lose you." He looked back at you. "That's why I've kept quiet and not said a thing. I love you. I love you very deeply, but I can't lose you."

"Levi."

He pulled back a bit. "I'm making you comfortable, aren't I? I'm one of those creepy guy friends."

You leaned over and kissed him before he could say more. "Levi, I love you too. I've loved you for a long time too, but I thought you didn't like me more than a friend." You referred to yourself. "I mean, look at me. I'm not much to look at. I don't turn heads at all. I'm always the girl people become friends with to get to the other girls. I'm the bridge. I get walked all over." You whined. "You're Levi Ackerman. You're incredibly attractive, smart and strong. You're popular here at uni. I'm...I'm not..."

Levi kissed you back, paused a moment before kissing you again with more passion. He softly spoke against your lips. "You are such a wonderful woman. I wish you saw yourself the way I see you. You're so cute, sweet, kind and smart. You take my breath away all the time. I'm madly in love with you." He ran his hand up your thigh and kissed you again. "Please don't say wicked things about yourself. You're amazing."

You linked your arms around his neck. "I want to be with you."

He slowly lay you down. "I want you too." He caressed your cheek. "You and me."

You hummed a laugh as he started kissing your neck. You shivered as he played with your top. "Oh, umm Levi?"

He lifted his head. "Mm?"

"I uh...I'm a virgin."

He gazed at you for a moment. "S-So am I...I uh...you...you want to? I-I mean we don't have to...I uh...I got a bit excited."

You pulled your shirt up a bit. "I want this. I want you. W-We'll take it slow, yeah?"

He nodded. "I w-won't last long."

"It's okay. I might experience pain."

He stopped kissing and stared. "I don't want to hurt you."

You pushed your shirt up a bit more. "It's normal."

"I'll try my best."

You smiled at him. "I trust you. Now, could you take my shirt off? I uh, don't have a bra underneath just to warn you."

He chuckled as he pulled your shirt off and saw your breasts spill out. "Stunning." He reached down and massaged your soft mounds. "It's normal to not wear a bra to bed, so there was no need to warn me." He leaned down and kissed you. "I must say, the warning does make sense because you're incredible."

You giggled. "Thank you." You hummed a bit. "Can I see you?"

Levi knelt up, pulled his shirt off and tossed it. "Umm."

You reached up and touched his chest. "Beautiful."

He leaned down and kissed you again. "Do...do you want me to touch you or taste?"

You covered your face with your hands. "Le-Levi."

He blushed. "I guess that's embarrassing to say, huh?"

You gulped hard. "Umm...touch 'cause I-I want t-to kiss you."

Levi pushed his hand down your body and into your panties, the two of you were breathing heavily due to nerves and need. "Talk to me, okay? Tell me everything."

You nodded as you gazed at him with a racing heart, he was so beautiful. You shivered when his finger brushed your pubic mound, he was so close to touching you where you needed it. A cute squeak came from you when he only lightly touched your clit. Pleasure shot through you causing you to clamp your thighs together.

Levi stopped moving and called your name. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

You whined a little. "I-I'm o-okay, it just...f-felt nice."

He blushed a bit. "O-oh, that's good."

"K-Keep going."

"S-sure." He moved his fingers against your clit and admired how you reacted to him. The gentle look he was used to from you was now replaced with a blissful one as you hummed and mewled in response. He watched as your chest rose a little. "You're so beautiful."

You hummed in response. "Li-little faster."

He nodded and moved his fingers a bit faster. "Like that?"

You gasped in delight. "Yes."

He leaned down and started kissing your neck and cheek. "You're so wonderful. My stunning girlfriend. I love you."

You cried out in pleasure when you felt a sudden rush. You covered your mouth with your hand and whined. "I can't believe I just...because of your words and touch..."

Levi chuckled. "It's cute."

"It's embarrassing."

He moved his fingers down and teased your opening. "You say that and yet I know I'll nut within a few minutes of being with you."

You pawed at his clothed erection making him hitch a breath. "You'll be incredible. You feel good."

He grinded himself against your hand as he pushed two fingers into your heat. "Fuck...so warm and wet."

You blushed. "Y-You speaking your mind while you're knuckle deep, huh?"

He blushed bright red. "S-Sorry."

You kept moving your hand on him and enjoyed how he rocked his hips. "Don't be sorry, you've always spoken your mind. Wow, you're thick, huh?"

He groaned. "Yes."

"Y-You should stretch your fingers."

He moved his fingers in a scissor-like movement and watched you whimper and mewl. "This okay?"

You nodded and shifted your body. "I-I've touched m-myself before, b-but your t-touch is different."

"Bad?

You moaned in delight. "Better. You shifted a little. "S-Slow."

He slowed his movements. "Like that?"

You hummed. "In and out, nice and slow. Perfect."

He kissed you and sighed. "You feel amazing."

You gulped hard. "A-Am I touching you r-right?"

He nodded. "You could touch me anywhere and it'd feel fantastic."

You slipped your hand into his boxers then moved your hand up and down on him. "So hot and heavy."

He grunted. "A-Ah. Shit, my mind is going crazy. I can't believe you're touching me." He shivered and grunted. "I want to be inside you."

You released Levi's cock. "Me too. I'm ready."

He dragged his fingers from you and sucked on his fingers. "Mm, you taste good."

"You fluster me so much."

He knelt up and searched your bedside drawer and found a box of condoms. He pulled out one and dropped it due to shaking hands. "S-Sorry."

You sat on your legs and grabbed a condom. "I've got this. I'm a bit less shaky."

He watched you open the packet before reaching over and dragging the condom down on his erect penis. "Mm."

You looked up at him and smiled. "There."

"Thank you." He caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers. "Are you ready?"

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck. "I'm excited." You slowly pulled him with you as you lay on your back. "Levi."

He slipped your panties off and tossed them before parting your legs. He took his cock and ran it up and down before pressing in. "N-Ngh."

You gripped his shoulders and whined. "F-Feels weird."

"Y-You're right, it's different."

You gulped hard. "M-More."

He pressed in more and more, just a bit at a time. "U-Uh, love? Th-there's resistance. Relax."

You shifted a bit. "S-sorry." You took a few deep breaths. "Keep going."

He pressed in further and saw you clench up a little and pull a face. "Sorry."

You cupped his face. "Don't stop. Press in all the way."

He did as you asked and pressed in until he had nothing left to give you. He mewled a moment as he enjoyed your walls massaging him over and over. "You feel amazing."

You kissed Levi and purred. "You feel wonderful."

"Does it hurt?"

You shook your head. "N-No, just different. Can you move?"

He rubbed your cheek. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He dragged his cock back slowly and felt pleasure shoot through him, then he pushed back in causing you both to moan in delight. He went slow and sweet with you so you didn't experience pain or discomfort. He showered your face with kisses as he moved deep and slowly inside you.

You wrapped your body around Levi and pulled him against you so his body rubbed against yours. You purred as his pelvis rubbed against your clit adding more pleasure to the moment. You wiggled under him and squeezed your toes a moment. You felt pleasure take over from the strange feelings at the beginning.

You clenched up. "Levi, a little up."

He angled his hips a bit. "Like this?"

You mewled. "Tiny bit more."

He did as you asked. "This?"

You moaned in delight. "Yes, yes just like that. That feels so good." You dragged your nails across his back. "Levi."

Levi couldn't believe he was making love to his best friend whom he's been madly in love with for a while. He kept gazing at your pleasure-filled face to remind himself that he was balls deep inside you. He tried hard to think of something to distract him a little, to stop him from finishing, to help him last a little longer.

He gripped the pillow below your head as he held back. He panted and moaned your name. "Ha, ha, ha, mm, ngh, fuck."

You dragged your nails over his back. "Levi. Don't stop."

He panted and grunted. "F-Fuck."

You leaned your head back. "I'm going to cum."

He moved as much as he could, but he was on the cusp of cumming as well. "M-Me too. S-sorry."

"It's okay! I'm so close! Almost there!" You threw your head back when you felt the snap. "Ah!"

Levi grunted when your pussy walls massaged him. He moaned your name and pressed his cock deep into you as he came hard. The two of you enjoyed your first joint orgasm together. Your bodies burned with pleasure as you both stopped moving together and settled in each other's arms.

Levi lifted his head and kissed you. "Are you okay?"

You nodded. "I'm wonderful."

"Promise?"

You giggled and caressed his cheek. "No lies. We tell each other the truth." You kissed him and hummed. "You had nothing to worry about, you were wonderful."

"Does it hurt or ache?"

You hummed in thought. "Bit of soreness, but I'm okay. Are you okay?"

He whined. "I wished I could last longer."

"Practice makes perfect."

He blushed. "You want to?"

You nodded. "I do and it feels like you do." You giggled as he glanced down. "You're still hard."

He nuzzled the crook of your neck and whined. "I'm a pervert."

You played with his hair. "I don't think you are, but there is nothing wrong with it if you are." You giggled. "I am. I've thought of a lot of naughty things."

"I'm learning a lot about you." He kissed you over and over again. "I love you."

"I love you too."

He dragged himself out of you. "I'll clean you and help you."

Levi ran around your place as he cleaned up himself quickly. He raced back with his arms full of things. A few things fell causing you to giggle and him to chuckle a bit. He sat down, cleaned up your legs, and then helped you into your clothes. As soon as you were dressed, he wrapped a blanket around you and held you.

Levi kissed you and hummed in happiness. "I love you."

You smiled at him. "I love you too."

He helped you drink some water before he started feeding you some snacks. "Do you want to watch something?"

You picked up your controller and put something on you both loved. "Do you want something to drink?"

Levi downed some of his drink then he held you tightly. "Thank you. You're my everything, you know?"

You gazed longly at him. "And you're mine."

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Ned's Tower of Joy dream is an interesting case study on how GRRM employs the three part revelation strategy. Because Ned's questioning of the kings guard and their subsequent answers basically falls into:

Q: Why are the kingsguard at the Tower of Joy? They could be anywhere else but they're here? Why??

A: They are there to fulfill their duty to the king.

See, Ned asks them three questions that get to the heart of revealing why the kingsguard are present where Lyanna (and Jon, per RLJ) are. Because if the kingsguard's primary duty is to protect the king, and if each set of question and answer reaffirms that the KG at the tower were doing their duty, then we can discern that Rhaegar's son is the king at that moment in time. Each question and answer reveals more information than the last, which falls into the three part strategy as observed by GRRM's editor, Anne Groell.

[...] I’ve realized his three-fold revelation strategy, I see it in play almost every time. The first, subtle hint for the really astute readers, followed later by the more blatant hint for the less attentive, followed by just spelling it out for everyone else. It’s a brilliant strategy, and highly effective.

How this strategy plays into the ToJ dream is that GRRM starts with

planting a little seed of doubt by questioning the kingsguard's whereabouts

then he follows up with bringing to attention the fact that they have not yet sworn fealty to the new king

then finally spelling it out that their presence here rather than elsewhere signifies that the king is close at hand - in the very tower where this confrontation is taking place

For the astute observer who has figured out that R+L=J, this is a very important piece of information regarding Jon's status at the time. Because he has so far been introduced to us as Ned Stark's bastard. But now, this sequence of information plays into the larger theme of Jon being presented as a hidden king.

So let's take a more detailed look at how this plays out in the dream once Ned confronts the ghosts of the kingsguard.

P.S: Ok, I lied. Ned actually asks them four questions. But four is not so nice a number as three so whatever. The point remains.

Q1: Three other kingsguard were fighting with the crown prince at the Trident. Yet these three remained. Why?

A1: Their duty was not to go to the Trident but to remain at the ToJ

“I looked for you on the Trident,” Ned said to them. “We were not there,” Ser Gerold answered. “Woe to the Usurper if we had been,” said Ser Oswell.

This first set means to establish a timeline. We know that Rhaegar was last at the tower (well, that is before he went to Kings Landing and then to the Trident). Rhaegar even took three other kingsguard to battle with him: Jonothor Darry, Barristan Selmy, and Lewyn Martell.

These three kings guard at the ToJ should have gone with Rhaegar because after all, it's their duty to fight for the king and his cause. But they were left at the TOJ. And we can assume that this was per Rhaegar's orders as GRRM himself confirms that if Rhaegar told them to stay at the tower, then they would've had little power to disobey him.

But Rhaegar died at the Trident. So why did they choose to remain? And even though this conversation is happening within a feverish dream (thus opening up the possibility that these words were not the actual ones that were exchanged in real history), it still seems that by the time Ned got to the tower the kingsguard already knew of Rhaegar's demise.

So why did they remain?

Q2: Jaime Lannister, a member of the kingsguard, was in King's Landing slaying their king. Why were these three not there to avenge Aerys? Isn't their primary duty to protect the king?

A2: Aerys is dead, but the kingsguard still has to do their duty which is to remain at the tower.

“When King’s Landing fell, Ser Jaime slew your king with a golden sword, and I wondered where you were.” “Far away,” Ser Gerold said, “or Aerys would yet sit the Iron Throne, and our false brother would burn in seven hells.”

Once again, the language used here suggests that they knew of their king's demise. They did not go with Rhaegar to the Trident, and then Rhaegar died. Who knows how fast information travels, but these three still chose to remain at the tower despite his death. Afterwards, they did not make an effort to find Aerys, nor did they make an effort to go and avenge him once he was dead. They swore an oath to remain at the tower, and that is exactly what they did.

But with Rhaegar dead and with Aerys dead, they're now running out of excuses to remain at the tower. Though they may be fiercely loyal to the vows they swore to their prince, they also have a primary duty to obey their king and they could've performed that elsewhere. Especially now that there's a new king in town...

Q3: Ok, their king is dead and the entire realm now swears fealty to a new king. All the knights, honorable and dishonorable, have bent the knee. But what about them? Why are they here?

A3: They have a duty to remain at the tower. A duty they fulfill as members of the kingsguard, and one that cannot be transferred easily.

“I came down on Storm’s End to lift the siege,” Ned told them, “and the Lords Tyrell and Redwyne dipped their banners, and all their knights bent the knee to pledge us fealty. I was certain you would be among them.” “Our knees do not bend easily,” said Ser Arthur Dayne.

What's interesting about this is that they seemingly reject Robert as their king. It's a reaffirmation of their first answer to Ned's first question. "Woe to the Usurper if we had been [at the Trident]”. So Robert is not their king. But the primary duty of the kingsguard is to serve the king. Their behavior so far gives the impression that they are fulfilling it. But it's rather strange, isn't it. Who are they fulfilling their duty to if not Robert?

And Ned knows this. If they reject Robert as their king, who else is there to support? Rhaegar is long dead. Aerys was slain by their own sworn brother. And Rhaegar's son and heir met his end at the hand of Gregor Clegane. Their duty is sworn to the Targaryen line, but it has been snuffed out. So why are they here?

But Ned asks a final question that is, in a way, a nail in the coffin. It answers the question: they serve the king but which one?

Q4: Fine! Robert is not their king. And Rhaegar, Aerys, and Aegon are dead. Well...there is Viserys, who would have been Aerys' heir after Rhaegar. He's not dead. So why are they not with him?

A4: They do not go to Viserys because their duty as kingsguard(!) is not with him.

“Ser Willem Darry is fled to Dragonstone, with your queen and Prince Viserys. I thought you might have sailed with him.” “Ser Willem is a good man and true,” said Ser Oswell. “But not of the Kingsguard,” Ser Gerold pointed out. “The Kingsguard does not flee.” “Then or now,” said Ser Arthur. He donned his helm. “We swore a vow,” explained old Ser Gerold.

This is the final revelation and it answers the key question in all of this. The kingsguard performed their duty by guarding their king at the Tower of Joy. They are not serving Aerys by remaining there. And they are also not doing Viserys, who is currently at Dragonstone, any favors. Whatever vow they swore as kingsguard relates to the ToJ. And we know (per RLJ) that the two people at the tower are Lyanna Stark and Jon Snow, Rhaegar's last surviving son and heir.

We're given two key pieces of information with the last two sets of question and answer in regards to the kingsguards performing their duty by guarding Jon at the tower. First when Arthur Dayne says that, "our knees do not bend easily". Of course, they do not bend for Robert the usurper as we already know...

...But, the start of the dream features a very important detail.

Ser Oswell Whent was on one knee, sharpening his blade with a whetstone. 

Ser Oswell has already bent the knee. And he means to fight for the king he has sworn a vow to since he is preparing his sword.

Then we have Ser Gerold 'pointing out' (thus bringing attention to) the fact that though Prince Viserys and Queen Rhaella are still alive and under the protection of a good knight, they are not under the protection of kingsguard. The kings guard does not flee - they stand their ground and fight for their king. And this is again asserted by Ser Gerold who reminds Ned that “we swore a vow.”

So we have a three four part revelation that the last stand at the ToJ involved protecting little Jon who, at that time, was recognized as king by the three knights.

This doesn't end here. Jaime's ASOS dream also has him confront ghosts of the pasts and the question of oaths comes up, as it did in Ned's dream. The two dreams intersect when the topic of the kingsguard's duty comes up. And we see that as it was in Ned's dream, the three knights at the ToJ were fulfilling their primary oaths to protect (and die) for their king.

“I swore an oath to keep him safe,” [Brienne] said to Rhaegar’s shade. “I swore a holy oath.” “We all swore oaths,” said Ser Arthur Dayne, so sadly. [...] “He was your king,” said Darry. “You swore to keep him safe,” said Whent. “And the children, them as well,” said Prince Lewyn. [...] “I never thought he’d hurt them.” Jaime’s sword was burning less brightly now. “I was with the king …” “Killing the king,” said Ser Arthur. “Cutting his throat,” said Prince Lewyn. “The king you had sworn to die for,” said the White Bull.

Once again, we have the affirmation that the kingsguard swear vows to protect their king even if it leads to their deaths. And as we know, all these kingsguard died during Robert's Rebellion. Three died at the Trident with Rhaegar, fighting for their king's cause. So why are the other three who were at the ToJ lumped with them?

Of course, this is Jaime's conscious. And his relationship with Dayne, Hightower, and Whent is very different from Ned's. But the point remains that as the narrative suggests, they too died for their king. They fulfilled their oaths to completion. But the king they died for was not Aerys or Aegon or Viserys. Their king was a tiny babe - Jon Snow.

Though this feverish dream is part of a much larger reveal (that is R+L=J), Ned’s conversation with the three kingsguard plays into one of the key motifs in Jon Snow’s arc - that is his identity as the king. Not a king. But THE king.

What makes the three part revelation so interesting in this passage is that not everyone has figured R+L=J out. But to the astute observer, this key passage is just another piece of important evidence that plays into the hidden prince trope that RLJ falls under. And not only that, it yet another instance of Jon being recognized as the true king by the narrative.

[aster-2005]

“Unexpectedly Meeting You Again”

(another fanfic I made p (⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

In this plot, the platoon was looking for a place to camp out and saw a cave that seemed perfect, especially since it was raining. They decided to take shelter in the cave. The cave had a magical aura, and all of them fell through a hole in the tunnel that led to a place where the magical or spiritual aura was very strong. In the tunnel, they saw a lake that exuded spirituality. When Percival saw this, he remembered that this lake could summon a spirit for anyone who prayed deeply and sought a blessing of good luck.

Curious about spirit summoning in this mysterious cave, Percival’s platoon decided to give it a try. Donny started to pray, wishing for something and hoping a spirit would answer his prayer. While praying, a faint light began to transform into a spirit figure—it was a monkey holding a shiny rock. The others found it odd, but Percy laughed, amazed that Donny’s summoned spirit accurately reflected his personality. Donny, initially upset, felt proud and blessed when the monkey slammed the rock on Percy, who took it as a playful insult.

Next, Anne prayed deeply, wishing to be the best knight and a symbol of justice. Her prayer was answered by a beautiful knight spirit, a man with long blonde hair and a face of great beauty. Anne was delighted and somewhat smitten with her spirit guardian, who blessed her with a good luck charm.

Nasiens suggested that Percy be the next to pray, but Percy declined, saying he already embodied the life spirit. At that moment, another Percival, the one who had appeared in the demon realm and trained with Lancelot, appeared before them. “Woah, I didn’t expect you to appear here, other me!” said Percival. The other Percival replied, “I was curious, and it seems you found this place by chance.”

Nasiens explained that they had thought it was just a normal cave to stay in for a while, but it magically opened into a hidden lake with a strong spiritual feeling. The other Percival confirmed, “This is our hidden spiritual place, closer to the spirit realm.” Everyone was shocked to learn about the spirit realm, except for Percival, who knew it existed and that it was a restricted place to anyone excpet for spirit beings.

As they discussed this, the other Percival became more curious about Nasiens, sensing something somewhat familiar about them. Percy, in a chibi form, excitedly encouraged Nasiens to pray and summon a spirit, intrigued by the idea of a fairy hybrid summoning a spirit. As Nasiens began to pray, a powerful aura was summoned. The other Percival exclaimed, “Stop the summoning! This spirit is no joke!” He recognized the spiritual aura from a past experience and warned of its danger.

Suddenly, the strong aura and light transformed into a white, colorful spirit resembling the morning stars of dawn. The platoon was dazzled by the bright light and couldn’t clearly see the spirit’s form. Slowly, a slender woman in a white glittering dress with hidden wings and shining amber eyes appeared. Anne and Donny were amazed by the beauty of Nasiens’ summoned spirit, though they wondered why a bride spirit they assumes had appeared.

Nasiens fainted, and Percival caught him just in time. The white bride spirit reassured Percival that Nasiens was only asleep from the magic used to summon her. Percival was relieved and admired the spirit’s beauty. The other Percival, still cautious, recognized her and was stunned. The white bride spirit approached the other Percival, who backed away, but his mini versions appeared and joyfully hugged the spirit, revealing their familiarity with her.

Percival, curious about his brother’s reaction, asked why he was so cautious. The other Percival revealed that the white bride spirit was dangerous, causing Percival to wonder why his mature, pride brother was so wary.

The white bride spirit proceed to blessed Nasiens, who regained consciousness slowly. She then also kissed Percival’s forehead as a favor blessed charm, leaving him shocked and confused blushing. The mini Percivals, feeling jealous, were also kissed one by one. The white bride spirit then approached the other Percival, the white bride spirit who knew and naturally let his guard down, and kissed him on the lips, causing him to blush so deeply.

After bidding farewell, the white bride spirit last words saying “Until we meet again my dear o hope” vanished, and time resumed for Anne and Donny. The mini Percivals, delightfully satisfied, also vanished. Nasiens woke up, fainted again upon seeing Percival’s joyful embrace and exclaimed the spirit nasiens summoned was so beautiful, but eventually nasiens recovered. The other Percival, still silently blushing, announced he would return to the spirit realm, leaving quickly with a flimsy excuse. Nasiens wished him well, concerned about his sudden departure as they proceeded to back on mission, Nasiens is confuse and wondering why Percival has sudden so clingy attached than normally to Nasiens which is wondering why but the other Percival is aware why.

The other Percival knew that the spirit Nasiens summoned was not ordinary but a future reincarnation of the life spirit’s other half, By what other half means it is fated destined partner so deeply never broken bonded ever that whenever the life spirit is be. In summary, whenever the life spirit is his other half will be there for them. This point the other Percival blushed and felt defeated that their other half was always there,securely and silently always be supported and loyal love them so heart-fully. "It's was a sly move blancaflor" thoughts of other Percival and sigh that his older brother which is The Percival has been undoubtedly and acknowledging that his older brother had unknowingly fallen in love with the white flower, Nasiens the reincarnation lover of life spirit.

[writerdreamerwhatever]

Heyy

I was wondering if you could write a story between George Weasley x reader (established relationship) where he and Hermoine (reader's best friend) have an argument about something and they each turn to y/n to pick their side but she refuses because she doesnt want to get in the middle of it and eventually it really starts weighing on the reader and then George and Hermoine make up (to each other and to y/n)

I am a girl so female pronouns are fine but feel free to change it if you want

Thanks a lot!

Xx, Annelies

Dangerous ~ George Weasley

Set in The Goblet Of Fire

“So? Ready for tomorrow’s charms test?” Hermione asked me while plopping down next to me in front of the fire, setting her books aside.

“Yeah, you could say so-” I was suddenly cut off by the door leading to the common room bursting open, and a scream coming from the lady in the portrait.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” George yelled excitedly, running towards me at full speed and stopping right in front of me, “I need your help, love.”

I rolled my eyes. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he decided to blow Hogwarts up.

“What is it now?”

“What else do I need for the potion?” George questioned mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows while he thrusts a piece of parchment in my hand. “Tell me fast ‘cause Fred is waiting for me and I don’t want him to get caught holding suspicious flasks.” I rolled my eyes and looked at the parchment. On it was written a list of ingredients and elements-

“Are these ingredients… to an aging potion?” Hermione exclaimed, looking over my shoulder.

“Shh!” George shushed her, placing his index finger in front of his lips, “I don’t need all Hogwarts to know what we’re up to!” He whisper-yelled.

“Yeah Hermione, shh-” I mocked.

“What are you even going to do with this?!” Hermione whispered back.

“It’s a surprise.” He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest, “But spoiler: it has something to do with the goblet of fi-”

“Are you crazy? Most of the time, this potion fails to work. And, you’re not even seventeen yet to put your name in the goblet of fire.”

“And? That’s why we’re making this aging potion. Plus, have you seen the prize?! We could help the family a bit.”

“It’s still dangerous to compete.”

They kept bickering while I just turned my head from one person to the other.

They’re really starting to get on my nerves.

“Well, Y/N is helping us so I don’t think it’s too dangerous, otherwise she wouldn’t ha-”

“Maybe she’s helping you ‘cause you’re her boyfriend!”

Suddenly, George turned to me, Hermione following suit.

“Y/N, my beautiful girlfriend, the love of my life, my safe place, the mother to my future-”

“I think she gets it, George.” Hermione interrupted.

“Can you tell this geek that it’s best if she stays out of my business?”

“Can you tell this dork that it’s against the rules to enter the tournament when you’re under the age of seventeen?”

Both Hermione and George looked at me intensely, waiting for my response.

“Oh, no. No, no. I’m not picking anyone’s side here.”

“But Y/N!-”

“Tell him!-”

“Enough.” I held both my palms in front of their face. I sighed loudly. “Hermione, even though it’s sweet to show that you care about him, just let him do what he wishes, you’re not gonna get hurt by his doings.”

 At this, George smiled triumphally, raising his eyebrows at Hermione as though he won the argument.

“And George,” his face fell when he heard his name, “Hermione’s quite right, it is dangerous, but I don’t doubt you and Fred’s skills at potion making, and I’m sure you’ll succeed.”

They both looked at me, realizing their mistakes, almost a look on shame painting their features.

“Now… make up.”

Five seconds passed, them looking at each other, contemplating whether to forgive the other.

“Fine.”

“Fine.” Hermione rolled her eyes, and George shook her hand.

“Good.” I smiled a genuine smile, and wrapped my arms around each of them, hugging them tightly to my sides, “I’m happy you finally agreed on something.”

“Ugh whatever.”

George quickly pecked my cheek and stood up.

“Well, excuse me, but I have to go continue my aging potion.” He whispered the last bit, specifically looking at Hermione, “Bye!” He then exclaimed, waving his hand and dashing out of the common room.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Breaking my own heart thinking about how fucking lonely Ed has probably been for so many years before he met Stede.

Ed, when he's acting as The Legendary Blackbeard, is not very approachable by design. Izzy controls Ed's view of things in a way I'm not even sure Ed fully realizes, just because Ed has Izzy do most of his grunt work and when he comes back Izzy lies to Ed about how things shake out, so in s1e3-s1e4 you rarely get the sense Ed ever leaves his cabin. Izzy also insults Ed to his crew members, making it unlikely they'd ever interact with Ed except when necessary, considering Izzy's always describing him as "half-insane." The interpretation that Ed barely talks to his own crew is all but confirmed when he tells stede in s2e5 that he'd worked with Fang for 20 years but never asked his real name before - we get the sense that their fishing trip was their first real, genuine conversation. And there's a reason for that - Blackbeard is a legend, so Ed can't go around making friends, that makes him way too human! Even when he introduces himself to Stede's crew, he's very guarded and Izzy cuts things short.

And on top of the situation of Being Blackbeard isolating him by design, Ed doesn't seem to have anyone who's willing to meet him where he's at when he's excited or just wants to share things. In s1e4 Izzy shuts down what Ed's talking about unless it's an Approved Blackbeard Topic, so Ed's not able to tell Izzy about what he's seeing in the clouds or why he's excited about Stede's knickknacks. Izzy's talking to him but he's not connecting with him. Even the connections we see Ed has, like Jack, Anne, and Mary, are the "pirates don't have friends" types. I can't imagine Ed sharing his problems with them or having emotional conversations with them (maybe in the past, but not now).

We get a picture of Ed as living a very isolated, lonely life. He has no one to really talk to lest he reveal himself as Ed instead of Blackbeard. He doesn't get to share the things that excite him with anyone. The Ed we know is chatty, easily exciteable, bouncy, so full of life, he's got so much to say! It must have been so painful for him to have to tone himself down for so long.

And then Stede is everything Ed's been missing. He excitedly shares things with Ed just because he thinks he'll like them. He listens attentively when Ed talks. They get to share things they're knowledgeable and excited about with each other.

Fuck, is it any wonder Ed fell for him so fast?

[lenorashore]

 In The Shadow of The Table

Fun in the Library - A sneak peek chapter of my Seb x f!MC fic Velvet Whispers, releasing next week! *edit:* It's here! Tags: H.job, public mstbn., s*men swallowing, Sebastian x MC Rating: Mature Words: 1.6k

The library was quiet, the only sound being the soft rustle of pages turning and the occasional creak of shoes on the floor. Books lined the walls from floor to ceiling, their spines a kaleidoscope of colors and titles. It was the perfect place to lose oneself in literature, but for Sebastian and MC, it had become something far more enticing.

It had been a few weeks since the two had become "official" — especially in the most intimate sense. Sebastian made it clear to everyone that she was his, staking his claim with a possessiveness that discouraged even a passing glance in her direction. She didn’t mind; in fact, she enjoyed the role, relishing the pride he took in her.

They had decided to spend some time researching various trails of the highlands, meticulously preparing for their search for Anne, which would begin the next day. But while Sebastian busied himself with the logistics, MC had taken a moment to dive into her own research. She was intrigued by the differing reactions to natural-born magic and wondered why her ancient magic didn’t surge with Sebastian like it had with Garreth and Rookwood. The question lingered, stirring a mix of curiosity and unease.

She was about ready to put down the book and rub her temples when she noticed an entry regarding the lustful and adoration-related effects of magic. She quickly skimmed the page and her eyes widened at what she read.

The Instinctive Shield of Natural-Born Magic

Natural-born magic, unlike learned or acquired magical abilities, possesses an inherent connection to the wielder's very essence. This deep-rooted bond fosters a unique protective instinct, manifesting as an automatic defense mechanism during moments of peril. Scholars often refer to this phenomenon as the "Instinctive Shield," a term that captures both its immediacy and its life-preserving intent.

When the wielder encounters danger — whether physical, magical, or emotional — the magic reacts without conscious effort, deploying defenses tailored to the nature of the threat. The instinctive response often aligns with the wielder's unique magical affinity.

What makes this phenomenon particularly remarkable is its ability to detect emotional danger that the wielder cannot, such as instances of lovemaking with an individual who is not considered to be their soulmate. The magic is capable of predicting one’s future and, in likeness, can warn the wielder of the unsuccessful fate of a current relationship, especially during lovemaking upon penetration. Unlike deliberate spellcasting, which requires focus and intent, the Instinctive Shield operates on a subconscious level.

She covered her mouth at the information. Her magic… had been trying to protect her.

It somehow knew that Garreth and Rookwood were both only trying to take advantage of her. It was trying to warn her that neither of them was her soulmate. But apparently, Sebastian was?

She looked at the boy sitting right next to her, his brown hair fell gracefully over his forehead, giving him a slightly disheveled yet undeniably charming appearance. Her mind flashed to their first night together.

“Come, darling. Let me feel you.”

She instinctively closed the collar of her shirt, a comfort mechanism to the rising heat between her legs.

"Let me in..."

Her breath hitched in her throat and she could feel the sweat beginning to drench the hair at her temples.

"So fucking tight..."

Suddenly, he adjusted in his seat and the outside of his thigh rested against hers. She clasped her hands together in her lap, almost as if to prevent her arousal from escaping. She looked over at Sebastian. He was focused, almost too absorbed in his research to notice her subtle movements. She watched with bated breath as his veined hand moved slowly down the page, his fingers tracing the delicate script with a reverence that made her bite her bottom lip.

After taking a moment to look around the mostly empty library and ensure no one was around or staring, she leaned over, her hand slipping beneath the table, brushing against the cool wood until her fingers found what they were seeking. 

His trousers were a barrier, but not an impenetrable one. With a slight tug, she managed to free the hard length of his arousal, her fingers curling around the silken expanse.

Right before she took hold of him, Sebastian was still engrossed in the book. “I think if we take the path from the Cragcroft Floo point up into the mountains, we might be able to-”

Sebastian's head snapped up at her sudden hold around his rod, his eyes shifting between her hand and the pages before him in a mixture of surprise and unmistakable desire. His lips parted, but no words came out, just a soft gasp.

"What... what are you doing?" His voice was barely a whisper, a teasing mix of disbelief and longing.

She bit her lip harder, savoring the thrill of the forbidden act. "Just helping you focus," she replied with a giggle, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands.

He swallowed hard, the movement of his throat stark against the dim overhead lights. "Here? Now?"

She nodded, her grip tightening slightly as she began to stroke him with slow, deliberate motions. The fabric of his trousers provided little resistance, allowing her fingers to glide along the full length of him. Sebastian's breath hitched, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before snapping open again, riveted on the pages to not arouse suspicion.

"God, you're bold," he muttered, his voice strained.

She smirked, her thumb flicking over the tip of his erection, feeling the moisture there. "Only for you."

Sebastian groaned again, this time louder, his hips shifting subtly in response to her ministrations. His free hand dropped to the table, gripping the edge as if to anchor himself. The intensity of his reaction spurred her on, her strokes growing firmer, faster, each movement calculated to bring him closer to the edge.

"Fuck," he breathed, his eyes half-lidded with lust as he tried to focus on the book. "I didn't think..."

She leaned in closer, her mouth inches from his ear. "Shh, don't speak," she whispered, her lips grazing the sensitive skin just behind his earlobe. The gesture caused him to jerk in her hand, a small, involuntary motion that spoke volumes.

She returned her attention to her task, her fingers working expertly now, knowing exactly how to drive him wild. The heat from his body seeped into her palm, warming her skin as she stroked him with increasing urgency. Each pass of her hand brought him closer to the precipice, the tension in his body becoming almost unbearable.

"Please," he rasped, his control fraying. "Don't stop."

She didn't plan to. If anything, her pace quickened, her thumb swiping over the tip in a way that made him shudder. Sebastian's head fell back, his torso arching slightly as he struggled to maintain his composure. The muscles in his forearm tensed, his knuckles white against the wooden table.

"You're killing me," he groaned, his voice breaking.

She grinned wickedly, her confidence growing with each passing second. "Good," she murmured, her mouth now dangerously close to his. "Because I want you to remember this."

Sebastian's eyes snapped open, a fierce blaze in their depths. "No one has ever... done this to me before," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion.

She leaned in further, her lips brushing his lightly. "Then let's make sure you never forget."

With that, she tightened her grip once more, her strokes mirroring the rhythm of her racing heart. Sebastian's entire body stiffened, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

"Just like that…" he whispered, his eyes closing again as he surrendered to the sensation. Her hand moved like lightning, the friction building to a fever pitch. Sebastian's hips bucked involuntarily, his back arching as he reached the point of no return.

He gripped her shoulder and whispered with intensity, “MC!” 

Her name on his lips was all the confirmation she needed. She could feel the pulse in his cock, the way his body tensed, signaling the impending climax.

With one final, determined stroke, she squeezed just below the head, applying enough pressure to send him over the edge. His entire body stiffened, his toes curling as he let out a choked moan. Hot, sticky fluid spilled over her hand, the sensation making him quiver uncontrollably.

His release echoed in the quiet library, a testament to the intensity of the moment. His fingers loosened their grip on the table, his body sagging slightly as he came down from the high. She remained still, her hand still wrapped around him, allowing him to savor the afterglow.

Sebastian took a deep, shaky breath, his eyes slowly opening. He looked at her, a mixture of gratitude and amazement in his gaze. "Wow," he whispered, his voice soft and tender. "That was... incredible."

She smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Keeping her eyes locked with his, she brought her hand up to her mouth and licked it clean, a deliberate act for him to witness. His lips remained parted, his breathing heavy as he took in the image of her swallowing his essence. She gave him a sultry wink and released a finger from her mouth with a pop.

Sebastian shook his head in disbelief at her forwardness with a smile as he adjusted himself, straightening his clothes with a sheepish grin. "I don't think I'll ever look at this library the same way again," he said, his tone light but filled with meaning.

"It's nearly curfew, students," Madam Scribner's voice called out from across the room. "Everyone back to your common rooms now."

As they gathered their things preparing to leave the library, Sebastian reached out, gently taking MC's hand. "Thank you.”

She squeezed his hand in return, a silent promise of more to come. "Anytime, sweetheart," she replied.

With a final glance at each other, they both stood up, blending back into the flow of students leaving the library. Yet, the memory of what had transpired beneath the table lingered, no doubt staying with her forever.

[daydreamgoddess14]

The Ties that Bind - Chapter 7 - The End

Time to say goodbye to this story. I've had the most fun writing it, I've loved Seren 🥰. I really, truly hope you've liked it too - hugest thank yous to everyone who's read it 😘. Always feel free to comment or message me or drop me an ask - literally I need no excuse whatsoever to go feral over Jack Lowden!

I am terrified about how emotionally traumatic Episode 5 is going to be so I distracted myself by finishing this off.

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6

Masterlist

Tagging: @cillmequick & @thomasshelbyswife

Chapter 7

“Hi.” Seren said quietly, a small smile on her lips. River nodded, his mouth pinched in a tight line. He turned and went straight back into the kitchen. David gave her a push of encouragement towards the door and she followed him. His hands held the edge of the countertop with a white knuckle grip, she could see his back was tense and feared the worst. Confused, she spoke quickly. “You… you don’t want me here.” She concluded. “And I stupidly assumed you knew about this, I’m sorry.” She shook her head and held up her hands. “I’ll go and he can explain to you, we can figure out a rota or something.”

“He gets forgiven and I don't?” He asked quietly. She stopped in her tracks. 

“I haven't seen or spoken to you? Let's not forget who left me in the middle of the night and no word since?” 

“You didn't want me there.”

“Yeah, at first. I'm pretty sure that changed when-” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “when I let you into my bed! Or did you get what you wanted and that's that?” She hissed. His face fell. 

“Seren, you know that's not it. I left because I didn't want you to think that you had to forgive me. I wanted you to want to.” Seren took a deep breath and rubbed her temples.

“Look this is… I don't know how we've gone wrong here, I'm pretty sure we're agreeing but,” she shrugged, “this has all got fucked up somewhere.”

“Why would you think I don't want you here?”

“I dunno, this is your world, this MI5 bullshit and now I'm here and involved… what if that's what messes everything up?” She asked. 

“No, no, it's not.” He assured her. She could see the hurt in his eyes. She stepped towards him and covered his hand with her own, matching finger to finger. 

“No more cast?” 

“All healed. Well, I need to be careful but, y'know.”

“You're back to throwing fake punches, then?”

“Ahh, no. I gave up on that.” She traced his fingers with her own. 

“Oh?”

“I do spin class now instead.”

“The one on the bike?” She nodded in reply as he turned his hand around so they were palm to palm, and interlocked their fingers. He pulled a face. “Sounds grim.” 

“I needed the distraction.” She mused. “I know you were doing your job.” 

“Yeah.”

“And that job comes with a level of secrecy.”

“Yeah.” She squeezed his hand lightly and let go.

“Ok.”

“Ok?” He looked confused. 

“Ok. I get it.”

“... And?” She smiled at the hopeful look in his eyes, rolling her own in exasperation. 

“Do I need to spell it out?” He shrugged, a smile pulling at his mouth. “You're forgiven.” She told him solemnly. He smiled widely until she held up a hand and it faltered. “But-”

“But?”

“But I have let the entire secret service into my life - they have looked into everything I've ever done. They found out about when I got three speeding tickets in the space of a week fifteen years ago. They know every job I've ever had - including the Anne Summers Saturday job I had when I was seventeen. They know I broke my ankle when I was twenty one, they know how much Netflix I watch. They know more about my life than I can even remember, River. That's… a lot.”

“It is a lot, Seren dear, and I'm eternally grateful to you.” David ambled through, not paying any attention to their proximity. “It's rather a big commitment to make to two men who've mostly pissed you off. What was it you told me before?” He wondered, “Ah yes, we sounded desperate.” 

“You did.” She remembered with a smile. “You still do - I should fill up this fridge. Poor bugger, you've been living on microwave meals.” 

“He brought that on himself.” River pointed out, purposely nudging her. 

“How ever did the Cartwright men survive?” She wondered. 

“We didn't. That's why you're here.” David declared. 

“Hmmm, yes, and I expect you both to grovel for as long as I say so,” she called after him as he went back to the sitting room. She felt River behind her, his warm breath by her ear. 

“On my knees. Every day. If that's what it takes.” He murmured, placing a large palm on her stomach and pulling her body flush with his. She trembled against him as he leaned in to bite her earlobe, unable to stifle the low moan. She quickly clamped her hand over her mouth.

“Seren? Put the kettle on, would you?” David called. River gently pulled her hand from her mouth. 

“Better answer him. He might come looking for you.” 

“You knob,” she scowled. “It's on David, I'll come and get the pot in a minute.”

“Righto,” he said cheerfully, she vaguely heard the rustle of the newspaper over the pounding of her heart. The hand River had on her stomach had slipped under her t-shirt and drew loose patterns on her skin. The front of her thighs pressed against the table and she had visions of being bent over it, lifting her hips to meet his while her fingers gripped the varnished wood and he pounded into her. The thought had her keening against him as his hand moved up to cup her breast over her bra. 

“Something you need?” He asked, his voice low in her ear. She didn't trust herself to speak, instead she arched her back and pushed herself back against his hard cock. He growled against her neck, “I could just bend you over this table?” She whimpered in agreement. “But not now.” Seren twisted in his arms and moved her legs to let him rest between them. She moaned into his mouth as his tongue slid against hers. 

“River-” She whispered as he bit along her jawline. 

“Not here. I want to hear you next time.” He looked at her intently, his eyes bright blue and dancing with mischief. Seren whined in frustration. “I want to see how many times I can get you to make that sound,” he kissed her again. “I want to hear you every time you say my name, and,” he kissed the tip of her nose, “I want to not wake up to an empty bed this time.”

“You and me both,” she breathed. 

“Are we OK?”

“I mean, aside from this still probably completely inappropriate -”

“At least I'm not the one paying you anymore.”

“Fair point, yes, we're OK.” He leaned in to kiss her again, “but-” Seren held up a finger to his lips which he promptly drew into his mouth, making her whimper. “We really should figure out what this is, because I don't want to make my working here awkward or confusing for David.” He released her finger and nodded. 

“You're the boss.” He said with a smirk.

“Not you anymore, is it?” She teased, “no more calling you ‘sir’.”

“Makes sense, I'm the one supposed to be grovelling.” 

“On your knees wasn't it?” She asked curiously, looping her arms around his neck. 

“You got it.”

“My place later?” 

“Fuck yes.” 

“Seren?” David called from the living room. Her head dropped to River's shoulder.

“Later.” He promised. 

“On my way,” she called back to David, pushing River back so she could stand up away from the table. She went to collect the teapot and check what he needed while River put the kettle on. 

*

Seren left the Cartwright’s late afternoon, saying goodbye to both of them. Only a couple of hours later, River knocked on her door. She let him in and had barely closed the door behind her before River had her backed up against it. 

“All day,” he muttered against her collarbone, “been thinking about this all fucking day.” 

“Oh god, River-” She panted as he grasped the soft flesh of her thighs. “Wait, wait, wait, I’ve just come from the gym, I’m disgusting.” She pointed out. He leaned back to look at her, hair piled into a bun on the top of her head wearing a crop top and lycra leggings.

“Don’t care,” he muttered, licking a path down her neck.

“Fuck me,” she gasped as he bit her bare shoulder.

“Yep, that’s what I -” he broke off, listening, “what’s that noise?”

“The shower. I told you, I’ve just got back from the gym.” He took her hand and led her to the bathroom where steam billowed out from the still running shower. He reached out to unzip the front of her crop top and threw it in the vague direction of her washing basket, he pulled off his own t-shirt and added it to the pile. “What are you up to?” She wondered aloud, taking off the rest of her gym kit and stepping into the hot shower. He stepped in behind her and poured vanilla scented body wash into his hands until it frothed. He stood closely behind her so she could lean against him, and rubbed the soapy water from her hands, up to her shoulders and across the other side. He held her against him as he gently washed her stomach, over her breasts and the rest of her body. She sighed contentedly.

“This ok?” He asked, his hands running over and between her thighs. She nodded and reached up to pull the hair tie from her bun. River guided them further under the water stream, his height over her giving him a direct line of sight down her body. Seren took the shampoo from the shelf and he took it from her, gently washing her hair. He took his time, she relaxed against him, his eyes were drawn to the path the droplets of water took over her skin, like memories of where his mouth had been.

“Why’re you doing this?” She questioned as his fingers kneaded through her hair. She moaned at the slight pull, he kissed her neck, acknowledging that he’d heard her response.

“You look after everyone.” He explained simply. He replaced the shampoo and picked up the conditioner, repeating the same process until Seren was dizzy with her need for him. 

They lay nose to nose in Seren’s bed, close to sleep.

“We should be careful, David put himself out there by demanding Taverner employed me. I don’t want to break his trust.”

“I know. This doesn’t have to be complicated, maybe we should just enjoy the distraction. Keep it simple.” He rolled onto his back and pulled her with him. He felt her nod in agreement.

“Yeah. Keep it simple.”

“I want you to be able to walk away from this one day. You don’t want MI5 in your life forever.” He reasoned, half asleep. Seren stayed quiet. His breathing evened out and the hand that brushed up and down her bare back fell still.

“What if I do?” She whispered to the darkness.

*

Seren was on her way to David's when the phone rang through the car. 

“Ms Harrison?” Her stomach dropped to her feet, it didn't sound like Taverner fortunately, so her mind immediately went to the next worst case scenario - Mags in the care home. 

“Yes, that's me?”

“I'm calling from Medway hospital, we have David Cartwright here - you're listed as one of his emergency contacts?”

“David? Oh, god. Yes, yes I'm his home help, I'm on my way there now, what's happened?” She came to a set of lights and did a u-turn.

“You're not live in?”

“No, we didn't think he needed that just yet.”

“It's not too serious, he's had a fall and managed to get to his panic button. The ambulance brought him in about half an hour ago.”

“Ok, have you called his other emergency contact?”

“Not yet -”

“I will. I'll do it. I'll be there in five minutes.” Seren hung up and flicked her eyes to her dash display to select River's name.

“I was just thinking about you,” he answered before she could get a word in. 

“He's had a fall. I'm on my way to the hospital,” she interrupted quickly. 

“Shit, ok, I'm on my way.”

“They said it wasn't serious but-” her voice cracked. 

“It’s going to be fine, I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“I'll call you when I know more.” He hung up first, she could hear muttered swearing as the handset moved from his ear so he could end the call. After hastily abandoning her car in the first space she saw, she raced to the reception desk. “David Cartwright, please? Came in an ambulance, I was just speaking with someone?” The computer keyboard clicked as the receptionist tapped her manicured fingers on the keys.

“Ahh yes, he's on the Acute Medical unit, Lister Ward, follow signs for Red 3. You're going behind me, turn left and up the stairs.”

“Thanks!” Seren ran toward the stairs to the next reception desk where she repeated who she was. A nurse led her down the brightly lit corridor to a small ward of 4 beds. In the far corner by the window was David. She rushed for the bed, managing to stop and slow down as she reached the end of the bed. “David,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. She went to his bedside and took his hand carefully, taking note of the cannula in the back. She followed the tubes up to an IV bag. His hand felt small and weightless in hers, the skin paper thin and cool to touch. 

“You've cold hands, dear girl.” He said hoarsely. She closed her eyes in relief at the sound of his voice. 

“Cold hands, warm heart.” She told him, reaching her other hand out to brush his hair from his eyes. “What have you been up to? Silly man.”

“Thought I'd get the kettle on for us, came a cropper on the stairs.” She tsked him lightly with click of her tongue. 

“Shit, I need to tell River you're OK, he's bombing down the motorway,” she picked up her phone and found his number. “He's OK, awake and talking to me. I just need to find a nurse for an update. Lister ward, Red zone 3.” She told him quietly. River arrived as the nurse did. They all listened patiently as she explained that aside from some bruises from the fall, he was perfectly fine but they did want to keep him in for a few days as a precaution. Once the nurse had left, River was able to reach to embrace David. He could only watch Seren but he could see she was itching to be closer to him. 

“You allowed a coffee old man?”

“I bloody better be, I shall discharge myself if not.” He declared. 

“Seren?”

“Yeah, I'll pop to the bathroom and help you bring them back. Won't be long, no causing trouble,” she warned David. In the safety of the corridor, away from the doorway to the ward, River pulled Seren into his arms. 

“You ok?”

“Silly bugger scared the shit out of me, I think I got flashed I got here so fast.” She grumbled, taking a deep inhale of the soap from her bathroom mixed with his own scent. He kissed the top of her head and then lifted her chin to kiss her properly, more intimately than she'd expected in public. The nurse who'd spoken to them blushed as she manned the reception desk. 

“C'mon, let's get his coffee, I only got you out here so I could kiss you.” He reluctantly let her go and went to push coins into the machine.

“You don't have to stick around here all day, you know?” David told her, “someone else is babysitting, go and enjoy yourself.” Seren looked torn. 

“I mean it. And you, shouldn't you be back in London? I certainly don't need both of you here.” He turned his attention to River. 

“I could go and visit Maggie,” Seren wondered aloud.

“Go,” David smiled. “Do go, dear girl. I'm fine, really.” River watched the guilt gnawing at her, that she hadn't been there early enough in the morning to have prevented the fall. Despite what the nurse had said, the worry was still etched in her face. 

“You should go, I'll stay here.”

“No you won't, I already told you, back to work.” River grimaced. “Go on, off you go.”

“Ok, if you insist?” Seren stood up and helped him get more comfortable in the bed, smoothing out the blanket, pouring more water for him and getting the newspaper from her bag along with a pen. “I'll be back later this evening, call me if you want me to bring anything else?” River watched, awed by their bond, the shorthand in their conversation and Seren's clear love for his grandfather. She kissed his forehead and gave him a winning smile, disguising the worry. “Be good for the nurses.” 

“I'll walk out with you, if you're sure grandad?”

“I am indeed, leave me in peace with my crossword.” River gave his hand a squeeze and gestured for Seren to go ahead of him. She turned at the door to wave at David. 

“So… going to work?” She asked once they were in the corridor. 

“No way, I'm going wherever you're going.”

“Oh you are, are you? To visit Maggie then?”

“Lead the way. We can drop your car off at the house and I'll drive?”

“Something wrong with my car?”

“Apart from the music choices?” She arched an eyebrow, 

“Tread carefully, Cartwright.”

“3 speeding tickets in one week, you got flashed this morning, it sounds like the wheels are about to drop off… anything else? Is your engine light on this week?” She scowled. 

“Not this week, no. I did do a probably illegal u-turn this morning though.” 

“Probably illegal?” He teased, slinging an arm around her as they left the hospital. 

*

“Seren, darling!” Mags called across the sunroom of the care home the second she came into view. Seren let the older woman pull her into a bear hug deceptively strong for someone in their eighties. 

“Hello Mags. God, I've missed you.” Seren squeezed tighter until Maggie clocked River standing further back. 

“Oh! You've brought your handsome man with you!”

“My friend, Mags. River is my friend.” 

“Well friendship suits you dearie, you certainly never looked this happy when you were my friend.” Maggie said slyly. 

“What's all this ‘was’ your friend, I am your friend you daft old bat.” 

“Cheeky, I can have you kicked out. Leave the man behind though.”

“No chance. How've you been?”

“Sit, sit, both of you. Are the girls getting some tea? I'm not too bad,” she flapped. “Service could be better,” she grumbled, looking around for a member of staff. 

“I'm fine, really good. You look well?” River sat down next to Seren but held back as the women talked, only being drawn when Maggie insisted. Seren's relationship with Maggie was similar to the one she had with David, she loved them and cared for them as if they were her own grandparents. He found himself lost in a near future where David wasn't around any longer. Found himself wondering and then what? It hadn't occurred to him that one day, his only relationship with someone outside of work would no longer be there. He would essentially be alone. He missed what Seren said as she stood up and brushed his shoulder as she left the room, but Maggie soon dragged him back into the conversation. 

“You're very quiet darling. I'm sure he'll be just fine.” River frowned. “Your grandfather? Seren said you've both come from the hospital this morning?”

“Sorry, yes. Yeah I'm sure he'll be OK.”

“But you're not?” She mused. “Out with it, before she gets back?”

“He's all I've got. It just occurred to me that he's all I've got apart from a few colleagues I'm not sure I'd call friends.” His brow furrowed again. 

“You've got her,” she nodded over at Seren who was laughing with one of the staff members. Her smile was radiant. He shook his head. 

“We decided to keep it simple, nothing serious.” Maggie's chuckle turned into a cough. 

“If you say so, love.” Seren came back over and Maggie fell silent.

“Apparently they're about to take you through for afternoon tea, so we'll head out.”

“Wonderful to see you. Bring cake next time, theirs is shite.” 

“Love you, Mags. Be good.” Seren gave her a hug and once she was released, Maggie ordered River over. 

“Don't be a fool, young man,” she muttered quietly. “Lovely to see you both, off you pop now.” As they left the room with Maggie watching, Seren slipped her hand into his and squeezed. 

“Everything alright?” She asked, her voice laced with concern. He nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah fine.” She didn't look entirely convinced, but let it go. “I, uhh, I'm going to head back to London if you don't mind?” Seren shook her head slowly.

“Sure, ok. I'll get my car and go back to the hospital for an hour.” They drove back to David's in near silence with Seren trying to understand what had happened over the previous couple of hours to have caused River to retreat into himself so much. “I'll call you later?” She asked, confused and a little hurt.

“Yeah, let me know if he needs anything. Otherwise I'll be back in a couple of days when he's ready to be discharged.” Seren nodded, her smile tight. She got straight into her car and decided to head straight to the hospital, not wanting to be alone. 

River made it one junction up the motorway back to London before turning around and going to Seren's house. She arrived home to find him sitting on the doorstep. She stopped suddenly, almost falling over him. 

“Oh shit!” She yelped, “you scared me half to death. What are you doing here, I thought you were going home?” He got to his feet and moved aside so she could unlock the door. She pushed it open and let him through first. “River? I thought you were going home?”

“I did. I am.” He said softly. Seren frowned a little, unsure of his meaning. 

“Ok,” she said gently, “ok. Let's get some food, you must be freezing.” He followed her to the kitchen where he sat at the table while she pottered around cooking. “David's doing fine, I think they'll probably let him out tomorrow. There's no reason to keep him in and they need the bed space.” She chatted to him, filling the silence. “I know you must be worried, but he's honestly alright. I'm sure the nurses are sick of him already. He was struggling to remember who I was, but I think it's the unfamiliar surroundings. I spent two hours with him telling me about his wonderful grandson, and then as I was getting ready to leave, he recognised me.” He moved to stand behind her, his chin on her shoulder and arms looped around her waist. She turned a little to offer him a spoonful of the rich tomato sauce she'd made. He nodded his approval and kissed her lightly, feeling her relax in his arms. His silence had made her tense, he realised. “You know you can talk to me about anything?” She hesitated, not wanting to overstep. 

“Yeah.” She didn't push any further but handed him a plate of pasta. “I always thought he was invincible.” He admitted sadly. She held her breath, waiting for him to go on. “Having you here, he was doing so much better. I thought he'd be here forever.”

“He's still here,” she reminded him, taking his hand. 

“And when he's not? Then what?” She shook her head.

“I don't know,” she confessed. She pushed the food around her plate, her appetite gone. “He talks about you constantly,” she started. “All the bloody time, even when he's lost in the past. He loves you so much, River.” 

“I can count on one hand the number of times he’s said it.” He mumbled, trying to recall the last time he heard it from anyone. His grandmother, Rose, before she'd died most likely. When he looked up from the table to see Seren watching him, he expected to see pity in her eyes, but there was none. 

“Earlier,” she took a deep breath, “when I said I thought you were going home? You said you are.” She paused, halfway between wanting and not wanting an answer to the question hanging in the air. “What did you mean?” 

“I love you.” He said softly, realising that he hadn't said the words since his grandmother had died, let alone heard them. “I've spent all day wondering what will happen when he's gone, when I'm alone, where home is. But I shouldn't have, because I'm not alone.” She shook her head, the movement spilling tears down her cheeks.

“No, you're not.” She moved from her seat at the table and onto his lap, holding his face in her hands. “You're not alone, I love you.” She kissed him, her hands leaving his face to run through his hair. “God, you're such a fucking moron.” He laughed into her neck. 

“When I saw how much you care for him, and for Maggie… She told me. She said I'd got you too. I know I said we should just be able to walk away, no hard feelings, but I don't want that.”

“You've always had me, I'm not going anywhere.” She sighed, heavy with relief and finally relaxing into him. “We do need to work out what to tell him though?” He kissed her shoulder. 

“Mmm. Give me tonight, that's tomorrow's problem.”

*

“Watch your step,” Seren warned, holding David's elbow as he lifted himself out of River’s car. River came round from the driver’s side to take his other arm but was swiftly batted away. Seren bit her lip to disguise the smile.

“Watch my bloody step,” he grumbled. “You watch out, I can still tell Taverner I’ve had enough of you too.”

“Ahh but then she’ll send back Pete who can’t play chess.” River told him.

“Is he the one who drank IPA? Disgusting stuff. I couldn’t even get him to fetch me a decent bottle of scotch. Over my dead body will he be back.” David complained.

“I’m sure he wasn’t that bad.” Seren reasoned as River went ahead of them to unlock the door.

“He was.” They stepped over the threshold together, “and he couldn’t make coffee and walnut cake.” David beamed at the sight of the cake in the centre of the table.

“God, what a crime. Looks like you did the right thing getting me back.” Seren guided him to the sitting room. “Are you feeling ok?”

“I’m not breakable, dear. I’m fine. They let me out didn’t they?”

“Yeah cos they were sick of you.” River muttered under his breath so only Seren could hear, disguising her laugh with a cough.

“I heard that young man. Seren, would you cut that cake please?”

“No problem, tea?”

“Excellent.” He settled back in his armchair, making himself comfortable. In the kitchen, Seren set a tray with cake plates and mugs. She drifted towards River as he came in.

“S’good to have him back here.” She smiled. He took her hand and pulled her away from the tray and into his arms. 

“Yeah it is. Means I shouldn’t be kissing you in the kitchen anymore though,” he grumbled. She leaned up on tiptoes and grazed her lips against his.

“As if that stopped you before.” She challenged. 

“Put her down River, goodness me I may as well look after myself if you’re going to distract her constantly.” David chided from the doorway. Seren sprung from River’s arms, blushing furiously.

“Shit, David, I’m so sorry. I-”

“No need to be sorry, dear. Did you really think I didn’t know? I may be losing my mind but I’m certain my eyesight is perfectly fine. I did tell you, he was bound to have his head turned by a pretty girl. I’m just glad it’s you.” Seren’s mouth formed a perfect O shape. “Just getting a pen for the crossword, I’ll leave you both to it.” He wandered back to the sitting room. “Wouldn’t say no to that cake, though?” He shouted.

FIN

[nicohischierz]

icy roads: mark estapa

warnings: car crash, hospitals and flatlining

tagging: @ivy-34, @hzstry8, @francesfarhadi, @cixrosie, @heartz4hisch, @trevs-swiftie, text me or fill the form if you want to join the taglist!!

you were making your way up to michigan to see your brothers tyler and dylan.

it became custom when you and dylan joined university that you'd visit each other whenever possible. you were the one who did most of the driving considering his hectic game schedule.

so this weekend was no different.

you finished classes early and it was just in time for a long weekend. so you packed all your things in your car for the three hour drive ahead of you.

"hey dyl, i'm just getting started on the journey. i should get to aa around like the afternoon," you left your brother a message.

you then facetimed your boyfriend. the michigan native answered his phone immediately.

"hi gorgeous," he answered, moving into his room and locking the door.

"hi marky, i was trying to get through to dyl but he’s not answering,” you explained.

“yeah, we were playing a game of monopoly and your brothers got into a fight about rent or something,” mark drawled on.

you rolled your eyes at your brothers childish antiques. mark chuckled at your expression before he fell on his bed.

“you’re staying with duker right?” he asked.

you shrugged “i hope so, i don’t feel like sleeping in a dorm again,”

your conversation was cut short when someone entered marks room. “yo stop sign, we’re gonna grab something to eat before y/n gets here,” ethan called out.

“oh hey y/n, how’s the drive?” he asked once he spotted you in the phone.

“it’s going great eddy. except for the fact that i am almost out of gas now and i need food,” you complained.

you had spoken to mark for over an hour of your journey. how he managed to stay away from the boys that long was beyond you but it helped with the boring journey.

“you fill your tank and i’ll see you when you get here,” mark wished you goodbye and sent you a kiss before ending the call.

as you headed into the station and grabbed some snacks, you texted your brothers your eta and thanked the cashier before walking out, sour patch kids in hand.

the roads were getting more slippery as you approached ann arbor causing you to slow down just a little.

it all happened so fast.

you were taking a bend when your car slide off the road, driving off road into a tree.

the impact of the car caused you to hit your head on the dashboard. you were knocked out immediately not hearing the shouts asking if you were alright.

meanwhile, back in michigan your brothers were wondering where you were. “wait when you checked her location last where was she?” dylan asked.

tyler pulled his phone out and check find my iphone “she was at this exact spot dude, i swear to you,” he explained.

now that got all the boys worried.

so ethan, mark, tyler and dylan all piled into a car and drove to your location.

“dude, why are there so many police cars?” ethan asked.

his question was answered when the boys pulled up to the side, tyler noticed his sisters license plate and her sticker saying ‘osu mum’.

the younger duke brother made a dash towards his sisters car. dylan followed after with mark.

“woah. woah, you guys can’t be here,” a cop told the three boys.

“no, sir that’s my sister,” dylan explained. tyler had tears coming out of his eyes as he watched his sister be pulled out of on a stretcher.

the cops face softened as he ushered the two brothers to follow him. “you guys get in the ambulance, your friends can follow and i’ll be there soon okay,” he explained.

tyler and dylan wasted no time climbing into the back of the ambulance. mark headed back to the car, his hands shaking.

ethan was quick to notice and strapped him into the passenger seat. “mark, she’s going to be okay. it’s y/n she’s going to pull through,” he reassured his friend.

ethan and mark called the rest of the group telling them what happened and they didn’t even stop for a second before they headed towards the hospital.

ethan and mark met tyler and dylan in the waiting room.

"they took her to do some scans. they say say it's not anything major but umm, they want to make sure there isn't any like internal bleeding or anything," tyler mumbled.

mark wrapped the younger duke brother in a hug. he knew how close you and tyler were so he took it upon himself to look after the boy.

it was pretty soon after that the rest of the michigan boys showed up. tyler had texted some of your friends from osu telling them what happened as they blew up your phone.

the cop who brought the boys to the hospital handed dylan and tyler your suitcase and waited with the brothers and their friends.

it was quiet in the hospital as the doctors finished doing some checks on you before letting dylan and tyler in. your parents were trying to find the fastest way to see you guys but till they came it was your brothers that took care of everything.

but by some unfortunate luck, when dylan and tyler had finally been allowed to see you, your ecg started beeping like crazy. the two brothers watched as nurses and doctors flocked into your room pushing the two out.

mark rushed over to your room to see what was happening and watched as your once steady heartbeat went flat. tyler was crying hysterically as rutger and frank tried comforting their friend.

ethan held onto dylan, the older boy trying to maintain a strong face for his younger brother.

but mark couldn't handle it. his chest felt tight and he felt like he couldn't breathe. his ears were ringing and the only thing he wanted was to be in your arms.

"kiddo are you okay?" the cop asked.

the question brought everyone's attention towards mark. the michigan native clutched onto his chest as he looked dylan in the eyes.

the look was all dylan needed to know.

dylan wanted to scream at his teammate. how could mark go against the one unspoken law they had all agreed on. don't date your friends sister.

tyler hadn't caught on yet. but as he was about to ask his brother what was wrong a nurse came out of your room.

"are you guys y/n dukes family?" she asked.

the boys all nodded, forgetting the moment of tension.

"she's going to be alright. it seems that she was waking up and her tracker slipped," she explained.

tyler wanted to go in and see his sister but the nurse added "is there a boy named mark here. she was asking for him earlier,"

mark stepped forward and followed after the nurse. but before he went in, he grabbed onto tyler’s arm and pulled him along.

“i know she’d want to see you too,” he whispered