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whimsyfinny · 3 months ago

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He’s a Winchester

Chapter 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, alcohol, lots of feelings, Dean becoming a DILF

Chapter Word Count: 6338

MDNI 18+

A/N: annnnd I feel like we can get that ball rolling! Sorry guys, this should have been posted last night but my kid is sick again (germy little fuckers) so I'll post it now! Let me know if you like Deans POV and if you want more of it! Also do we prefer longer or shorter chapters? Lemme know. As always, it's only proof read by moi and my currently highly cold&flu medicated brain, so let me know of any errors. Also feedback is greatly appreciated!

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out.

Photos from Pinterest

New Readers Start Here: Chapter 1

Previous Chapter: Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Ice-cream went down a treat and the boys were loving every minute spent in each others presence. We were currently sitting in the window booth at the dessert parlour, my second coffee now clutched between my palms as both Levi and I listened to Dean intently. He was telling us some crazy story from his travels, and I couldn't help but smile as Levi hung off every word, urging Dean to become more animated in his narration. The crisp ring of a phone suddenly cut through the air between us and it took Dean a moment to realise it was his. After retrieving it from his jacket pocket, his eyes widened when he saw the caller ID. He mouthed ‘sorry’ to both of us as he answered the phone.

“Sammy!” he exclaimed before chewing his lip. He turned away and toward the window slightly so he didn't speak over us. Whilst Dean was preoccupied, I took the time to turn to Levi, warmth blooming across my chest at the smile that hadn't left his face.

“Hey there trouble, how are you doing?” I reached over to place my hand over his, tracing my thumb over his knuckles.

“This is the best day ever!” he said, his voice practically bouncing with joy and excitement as he glanced at his Dean, still on the phone. “Mom, I have a dad!”

I laughed softly, giving his hand a final squeeze before letting go.

“Yes you do!”

“And he’s cool!”

I laughed again. “Very cool!”

We chatted for a few minutes whilst Dean wrapped up his conversation with his brother - Levi trying desperately to contain his enthusiasm every time his dad was mentioned. It didn’t take long for Dean to hang up the phone and turn back to face us, giving Levis’ hair a ruffle as he looked down at him.

“Hey kiddo, that was your uncle Sammy on the phone,” he shifted his gaze to mine for a moment before turning back to his son, “I’ve sorta left him hanging all afternoon, so I’m going to need to spend a few hours with him, ok?” Levi pouted, which triggered Deans’ expression to soften. He looked back at me with almost pleading eyes. “If it’s ok with your mom, I could come around later? Bring a movie and popcorn?”

Dean had barely finished speaking when Levi beamed at me and I laughed at his electric excitement. If he smiled any wider I feared he’d actually hurt himself.

“Of course, that’s fine with me.”

The boys high-fived before I gave Dean a light hearted warning look.

“But the film has to be age appropriate. Absolutely no slasher films.”

Dean held his hands up in mock defence.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a slight smirk on his lips

With that, he said his goodbyes with a pat on Levis’ shoulder and the squeeze of my hand before slipping out of the booth and out of the parlour.

Deans POV

“You have a son?!”

Sam looked just as shocked as I had felt less than twelve hours ago, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Yeah,” I grinned at him, “crazy, huh?”

Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times, almost getting words out before changing his mind at the last minute in favour of a different sentence.

“Dean… You’re a dad,” he smiled in disbelief, looking over at me.

“Yeah,” I said again, feeling that goofy-ass grin reappear on my face, “it’s awesome. He’s awesome. I can’t wait for you to meet him, Sammy. He's so fucking cool.”

“I bet he is.”

We sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, my mind creating and then recreating hundreds of new scenarios I’d never thought I’d ever imagine. That I never thought I’d even get the chance to experience. I’m a hunter. I live a wild, dangerous, unpredictable life. But I have a son. A reason to live; to take care and caution for.

“Hey Dean…” Sams’ soft voice derailed my train of thought.

“Hmm?”

“How do you know (Y/n) is telling the truth? That this kid is definitely yours, and she’s not just messing with your head? I don’t mean to sound horrible Dean, but your taste in women can be-”

“(Y/n) can be trusted,” I cut him off, his words souring my mood slightly. I know he’s only looking out for me, but he’s always the first to question when something seems too good to be true. “You sure?”

“Yeah…” I held his gaze for a few seconds before sighing, deciding to explain further when his stare didn't let up. “We were together for almost a year. She was different. She never judged, or got angry when I was a mess after a hunt. She knows what I - what we - do for a living, and she never freaked out over it, or tried to break things off. She would just say, ‘ok, just stay safe out there’, and carry on,” I paused, the memories of our time together replaying in my mind like an old movie. I could see Sam nodding at my words, listening. So I continued. “(Y/n) had just turned eighteen when we met. I took her to prom,” I smiled at the memory, remembering the tremble in my hands as I’d driven to her parents house to pick her up. I’d never felt so nervous around a girl before, desperately trying to get a grip on my nerves the whole drive there.

“Prom?” Sam smirked, a twinkle in his eye, “You took her to prom?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“How have I never heard about this? Did dad know?”

I chewed my bottom lip, feeling the embarrassment heat my skin a little.

“Yeah, dad knew. He never met her, but he still teased me for weeks. You never knew because I never brought her ‘round, and you were determined to get into Stanford. I stayed away a lot back then, trying to work some cases on my own, to get some more experience. But… (Y/n) turned out to be a huge distraction,” we both laughed, the sound light and easy as it filled the car. I reached into my jacket and pulled out my wallet, flicking through the various cards and slips of paper until I pulled out an old, folded photograph. I passed it to Sam and he eyed it before taking it carefully and unfolded it, smoothing out the creases before studying the image. The slight furrow between his brows quickly disappeared as he looked down, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Well I’ll be damned, you really did go to prom.”

He looked it over for a few more moments, taking in every detail before passing it back to me. It had been a while since I’d looked at the image, finding it hard in the past to look at (Y/n)s face and remember that I’d left her behind. But now… now I could stare at this photo all day and feel nothing but warmth. I looked down at the decade old picture, seeing the candid moment captured in time. She had her arms draped over my shoulders, her face in a contented smile as I leant in for a kiss. Her lipstick was slightly smudged and my jacket was nowhere to be seen - small signs of a night enjoyed. I remember her friend snapping the picture before running off with a giggle, passing the developed image to (Y/n) a few weeks later. It was only a few days after that I told her I was leaving, and she’d gifted it to me with a sad smile and lingering kiss. I never normally found goodbyes difficult as they were part of the job. I'd gotten used to them. But saying goodbye to her had been one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do. The promise of staying in touch didn't last as long as we’d both hoped - dad somehow commondering my phone and returning it to factory settings without telling me. I guess it was around that time she found out she was pregnant.

The wince struck my face like a bolt of lightning, guilt and regret hitting like ice in my chest. The years she'd spent raising our kid on her own, working at the local garage in between school runs, Motocross trips and simple survival - it had me feeling nauseous. I should have been there. I've missed so much of Levi's life - of a life I could've had with (Y/n), as a family. My family. I mean fuck, I missed the birth of my son - I never got to hold him as a baby. I made him wait eight years for a hug. I made (Y/n) wait even longer, leaving her with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Crossing my arms over the steering wheel, I buried my head between them, praying that the tight knot in the pit of my stomach would disappear.

“You ok man?” Sam asked, twisting further in his seat to face me, the well-maintained leather creaking under his weight. I raised my head.

“Yeah… and no. I feel so, so good, like I'm on top of the fucking world, but…”

“But?”

“Do you think she hates me? Resents me? For falling off the face of the earth and making her do all of this alone?”

Sam smiled, a small laugh on his breath as he leant back against the passenger side door.

“Are you serious?”

I shot him an incredulous look.

“Dude…” he started, “(Y/n) doesn't hate you. She will obviously have feelings on the matter, but I think what she's feeling right now is relief, knowing that you're here now.”

I took a deep breath.

“Do you really think so?”

“Dean, I don't think things would have gone as smoothly as you described if she held any animosity towards you. She let you take Levi for ice-cream straight after meeting him. I think that's a good sign.”

I smiled, remembering my afternoon.

“Yeah, she's letting me go over to theirs tonight for a movie.”

“I don't think she'd be letting you into her house if she hated you. I mean, in the thirty seconds I'd met her earlier, she was all kind smiles and soft edges. Definitely not giving off ‘mean vibes’. Plus…” Sam smirked slightly, drumming his fingers on the back of the seat.

“Plus?” I raised an eyebrow, turning towards him.

“There's a chance she feels the same way you feel about her. That hug you shared said a lot.”

I scoffed slightly, finding his words ludicrous.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Dude, you've kept her picture in your wallet for nearly a decade. She was the only long relationship that I've ever known you to have, and you're worried if she hates you.”

“And?”

“When have you ever given a shit about anyone's opinion but mine and dad's?”

His words stopped my racing mind in its tracks, making me think for a moment. My heart suddenly picked up speed, finding it hard to ignore the truth in Sam's words.

“I mean, we were great back then, but she's a totally different person now. She had to grow up fast - there's no way she's gonna put up with my shit now,” I gnawed on my bottom lip, turning to look out of the front windscreen at all of the other parked cars. “I mean, what about hunting? We have jobs to do, I can't just bail on people - bail on you. (Y/n) Doesn't need that sort of chaos in her life, not now that she's got Levi. And I won't bring the hunters life anywhere near him. Fuck, Sammy, what am I going to do? I can't stick around, but I can't leave. FUCK.”

“Dean.”

“Why does this have to be so complicated?”

“Dean.”

“I'm going to end up ruining their lives and-”

“DEAN.”

“What?!”

“Just shut up. Do you hear yourself? You're overthinking shit that doesn't matter right now.”

His abrupt words ceased the hurricane in my brain, slowing both my thoughts and my rapid pulse. I even released the steering wheel from my white-knuckled grip. I replied to him, my voice slower and less panicked.

“But it's important, I need to figure it out.”

“It is. And you can - with (Y/n). You don't have to figure all of this out by yourself, Dean. You can make those decisions together. You guys are a team now, so you can't go off and decide these things on your own.”

I found myself nodding slowly, letting his words sink in. Taking a deep breath I leant back in my seat and ran my hands through my hair before dragging them over my face. I thought for a moment; calmer, quieter thoughts this time as I mulled over what Sam had said. He was right. I needed to talk to (Y/n) before making any decisions. Any stupid decisions that I know she would prevent me from making - like she used to. I huffed out a long held breath, twisting in my seat to face my younger - wiser - brother.

“Yeah, you're right. Look, I'm sorry for freakin’ out, I don't mean to… it's just- this is crazy. I mean Sam, I have a kid. ME. Of all people.”

Sam's eyes softened, his puppy-dog glimmer returning with a small smile.

“It's so crazy. I mean I never thought I'd get to be an uncle! But Dean… this is something good. All the shit we've seen, that we've dealt with and put up with - you especially - you deserve this. Embrace the shit out of this.”

I returned his smile in kind, a warm, fuzzy feeling I wasn't used to filling every fibre in my body.

“Yeah, I will.”

(Y/n)’s POV

Evening was drawing in, the sun starting to set as it neared 6:30 pm. Levi was busy tidying his room as I cleaned the kitchen, the small room bathed in a pink and orange glow. The sunset was calming as night slowly crept closer, the feeling of fall crisp in the air as the sun started to lower in the sky. As I dried the final dish from dinner and returned it to the cupboard I heard a rap at the door. I'd barely acknowledged it when Levi's footsteps came thundering down the stairs.

“Dad's here!” his giddy exclamation bouncing off the walls and bringing a smile to my lips.

“Well, go and let him in then!”

He practically leapt over to the door and unlocked it, swinging it open just as I stepped around the corner. There Dean stood with a happy smile and clean shirt, leaning lazily on the doorframe. His eyes lit up as soon as he spotted Levi.

“Hey there kiddo!” Dean ruffled his sons hair.

“Hey dad! What movie are we watching?”

Dean laughed.

“Why don't you let me come in first, huh? I need to say ‘hi’ to your mom.”

At the mention of me his eyes flicked up to meet mine, the sudden connection catching me off guard as his grin twitched upwards slightly.

Levi stepped back and let Dean in. It was a very rare occurrence for us to have a man in the house, and I couldn't stop the small flutter in my chest at the sight of Dean standing in my small living room. He dominated the space, his rugged exterior a little out of place in our domestic setting. Levi shuffled off to sit on the couch whilst Dean took a few slow steps over to me, his long legs swallowing the distance.

“Hey,” his voice was low and soft, his smile not leaving his lips.

“Hey,” I smiled back, pulling my soft cardigan around me. I took a step back into the kitchen, Dean following suit. “Coffee?”

“Coffee sounds great,” the grocery bag he'd been carrying was placed on the kitchen counter as I filled the coffee machine with water. Watching out of the corner of my eye, Dean observed his surroundings, looking at where we lived - where his son grew up.

“Nice house,” the low softness of his voice was still present.

“Thanks - I'll give you the grand tour later if you like?” I turned the machine on and spun to face him, and I watched as he leant comfortably against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah,” he said, “I'd like that.”

There was a pause in the conversation as we took a moment to look at each other. Really look, as it felt like the whirlwind afternoon we’d had took away our ability to really see each other. I'd been aware of his unchanging fashion and his handsome face, yet I'd forgotten about the soft sun-kissed freckles that dotted his nose, now fading as fall dawned and the sun weakened. I let myself reminisce over those forest-green eyes, how the swirls of jade and golden hazel had entranced me all those years ago. Given the chance, they'd succeed again. His hair was the same soft brown, memories of combing my fingers through those short strands as he slept quickly resurfacing. And those lips. I daren't look at them for the fear of staring too long and getting caught, yet the thought of that plushness against my own mouth had my own lips tingling. I tried my best to hold his gaze and when my eyes slipped to his mouth for a split second, I knew he'd seen it.

He reached out and took my hand, his rough palms gliding gently over my soft skin and squeezing gently.

“I know I said it earlier, but it's really good to see you, (Y/n).” Deans voice stayed low, but it harboured a gravelly undertone that told me that maybe, just maybe he wanted to say something else - something more. When he didn't, I squeezed his hand back, fighting the instinct to lace my fingers with his like I used to. Like when we used to lay under the stars in the field behind my parents house and talk for hours about everything and nothing all at once. Like when he'd lay me down in the backseat of his car and make love to me in the ethereal glow of the moonlight.

“You too Dean,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. With a final smile I released his hand, my own instantly feeling cold. The bubble of warmth and familiarity surrounding us slowly dissolved, Dean eventually clearing his throat and standing up straight. He looked at me again, this time without the nostalgia in his eyes.

“Hey uh… I don't suppose you'd be ok with Sammy coming by? It's just he really wants to meet Levi and I feel bad for ditching him earlier for hours. Plus he-”

“Dean it's more than ok,” I chuckled at his pleading and his desperation for justification. “Sam is more than welcome to join us tonight.”

A tension that I hadn't noticed before was quickly released from his shoulders.

“Are you really sure? I feel like-”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Be quiet. I would love for Sam to meet Levi.”

He grinned a little at my quiet assertiveness, looking down at his boots.

“Ok, well thanks again though sweetheart. He would've suffered a fun packed night of research and cheap beer in the motel room otherwise,” his teeth flashed with his humorous grin. I returned it before a thought crossed my mind, my eyebrows knitting together.

“Wait, are you guys staying in that seedy motel across town? The one where the janitor looks like a serial killer?”

“Yeah, to be honest it's not the worst place we've stayed in. The Dahmer look-alike creeps me the hell out though.”

I pondered for a moment, taking a lot less time than I should've before opening my mouth.

“Do you… do you guys want to stay here? I mean I have a couch and a spare camp bed. It's not much but at least you won't get murdered in your sleep. Plus I have unlimited coffee and bacon for breakfast.”

I almost cringed as the words left my mouth, kicking myself for practically trying to convince him to stay. Dean looked a little stunned at the proposal, taking slightly longer than I would've hoped to make a decision. I could've smacked myself. “I'm sorry, that's probably the last thing you want, being surrounded by boring domestic life when you have a job to do. Don't worry about it, forget I said any-”

“That would be nice.”

“Wait, what?”

“It would be nice to stay here. With both of you. I'd like that.”

The relief exited my body in a poorly concealed exhale.

“Do you need to run it past Sam first?”

He shook his head.

“Nah, to be honest I think Dahmer 2.0 freaked him out the most, he'll be happy to get away.”

It took all of about half an hour for Dean to jump back in the car, drive across town to the motel, pack their things and drive back home. When he knocked on the door a second time, he had Sam on his heels looking a mixture of elated to be here and really don't want to intrude. Levi was ecstatic to discover he had an uncle as well as a dad, and I was almost grateful for the attention to be directed away from myself for once. It's always been me and him against the world, but being a single mom to a pocket tornado was hard fucking work, and it was a breath of fresh air to be able to sit down on my own couch and drink my coffee in peace.

Dean had insisted on watching Mothra Vs Godzilla despite Levi's hesitation to watch such an old film. Dean won him over eventually with promises of ‘pop culture enlightenment’ and he now sat sandwiched between his two new favourite people - dad and uncle Sammy. The amber glow from the sunset slowly faded to indigo shadows, the only light now in the living room was from the TV and a few scented candles dotted around us. Around an hour into the film I looked over and saw Levi's head resting on Deans shoulder, eyes closed and chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. Dean happened to glance up and our eyes locked, an adoring smile on Deans’ face as he looked between me and his soundly sleeping son. So as not to wake him, I pointed to Levi then pointed to the stairs, gesturing to Dean to carry him up to his room. He caught on to what I was asking of him and he manoeuvred his large arms under Levis shoulders and legs, lifting him with an ease I was slightly envious of. Levi was tall, much like his father and uncle, and with being tall came the title ‘big for his age’. He’d reached that point now where I was unable to lift him more than a few centimetres off the floor, and the thought sent an unusual pang of emotion through my chest. Which emotion, I wasn’t sure… Perhaps it was longing? Longing for the clock to rewind back to when he was just a few years old and I could still carry him everywhere on my hip. Maybe it was dread, knowing that he’s growing up so fast and I feel as though the last nine years have passed by in a blur, despite the fact that I’ve barely been able to keep my head above water. Or maybe, just maybe, it was simply the sight of a man such as Dean Winchester looking down at his own child in his arms with such a look of total, unfaltering adoration that my heart was swelling beyond its usual capacity for such affection.

I stood with Dean and headed up the stairs in front of him, leading the way. There were only three doors to choose from once you reached the top of the stairs; my room, the bathroom, and Levis room. And Levis room wasn’t hard to miss, with its poster of ‘types of classic cars’ pinned to his door along with a makeshift name sign that we made together when he was around five. I pushed the handle and opened the door, slipping in first so I could throw the covers back on his bed. It was a swift ordeal after Dean laid him on the soft mattress and I tucked the covers around him. We both left the room and I closed the door quietly behind me, both of us heading back downstairs quickly so as to not risk waking the sleeping kid.

“Well, that is much easier with two people,” I said with a chuckle on my breath as I descended the last few stairs. Before I gave Dean a chance to say anything in response, I stepped into the kitchen, not wanting his reply to make that heavy pang appear in my chest again. “Beer?” I asked, opening the fridge and retrieving a cold bottle.

“Absolutely,” he stepped over to me with his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans, a lazy smile on his lips. I handed him two bottles, knowing he’d give one to Sam. Who, of which, was still sitting on the couch watching the movie.

“So,” I started, looking up at Dean as we slowly made our way back to the living room, “how do you boys normally spend your evenings?” I tried my best to hide my almost playful smirk behind a swig of my beer.

“Now ain’t that a question,” his expression mirrored mine as we both slumped down onto the couch again, much closer together this time now that Levi was counting sheep. Dean handed his brother a beer, barely looking at him as his eyes never left mine. “Oh, you know, the usual,” he started, leaning back against the plush cushions, one arm slung over the back rest and tauntingly close to my shoulders.

“Oh? Feel free to enlighten me.”

“Well, it’s normally spent working on a case, so… researching lore, or on the road, or burning shit that I really hate having to burn. Maybe we’ll go out for drinks, but uh, that’s a rare occurrence.”

I laughed a dry laugh, raising my bottle.

“Amen to that, I’ve not been out for drinks in ages. Not proper ones, at least.”

Dean looked away from me and down at his bottle.

“Huh...”

“What?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing, just… I would’ve thought you’d be going on dates and getting taken out for a good time. Like, a lot. ”

I couldn’t help but scoff at his comment.

“Dates these days are few and far between. And good dates are practically non-existent,” I paused, debating giving Dean the gory details before my mouth started working of its own accord. “I got taken out the other day by a guy who drinks kale smoothies and lives in boat shoes… tried to convince me that the church he belongs to is totally not a cult. I mean, he paid membership fees. And signed an NDA. Who does that?”

Dean held my gaze, as though searching for something that he didn’t even know he was searching for.

“You chose to see a guy like that? Dear God, your taste has changed,” his words were meant to be humorous but there was a subtle bite to them. Or maybe I'd imagined it?

I shook my head.

“No way, he was definitely not my type. It was a blind date, and if it wasn’t a blind date, it wouldn’t have happened.”

We both took a swig of our beer.

“I’m surprised,” he said suddenly, “I would’ve thought a girl like you would’ve been swept off her feet by now.”

“Oh, I was,” my words spilled out before I could stop them, “but that was nine years ago and I’m pretty sure he’s moved on.”

It took a breath of silence between us and a pitiful smile from me for Dean to catch on to what I’d said, his eyes widening slightly. He didn’t get much opportunity to reply, however, as Sam stood quickly. I’d almost forgotten he was there, but I'm glad he was as it drew Deans attention away from the red heat rising to my cheeks.

“Hey, uhhh, I’m just going to run to the car and grab our stuff,” he said, jabbing his thumb towards the front door. “(Y/n), when I come back in would it be ok if I used your dinner table to do some research?”

I nodded before speaking again.

“Yeah of course, be my guest. But isn’t it a little late to start doing all that work?”

He flashed a small, almost knowing smile to both myself and Dean.

“Not for us it isn’t. Plus I just… I just really like lore.”

Dean practically spat his beer back into his bottle.

“Really?” he asked his brother with a quizzical expression, “that’s the excuse you’re going for?”

Sam shrugged.

“No excuse. I’m just dedicated to uhhhh, to learning about… ghosts. It’s a real passion.”

“Aw geez,” Dean shook his head.

“Am I missing something here?” I spoke up finally, shooting them both questioning looks.

“Nope, just my little brother is being an idiot.”

Sam just shrugged, oozing with amusement before leaving out the front door to the car.

I blinked away the confusion, however my face must've given away the fact that I still had no clue what had just occurred between the two brothers, because Dean came to my rescue.

“Don't overthink it sweetheart, Sam's just being a pain in my ass.”

“I don't think I'm ever going to understand the secret handshake language you guys have. I feel like you have to be part of the ‘Winchester Boy Scouts’ to get the handbook for that one.”

Dean laughed, the sound pleasant and carefree as he drained the last few drops of beer from his bottle.

“Sam's definitely more of a boy scout than I am.”

“Whatever you say, Winchester.”

He leant forward and placed his empty bottle on the coffee table before turning in his seat so he faced me more.

“So, apart from childcare and Scientology weirdos, what else have you been up to?”

I couldn't stop the amusement from taking over my face at Dean's question.

“You know, you seem very interested in my life for someone who probably forgot I even existed until this morning.”

Deans expression fell slightly and he looked away, like I’d struck a nerve. When he looked up again, there was something simmering in his gaze, and I wasn't sure if it was pain, regret, guilt, or something else entirely. When he spoke, his voice was thick and low.

“I never forgot about you. Not once.”

My breath caught in my throat and my heart stumbled. When I opened my mouth to say, me neither, he carried on before I could get the words out.

“I tried calling in on you once.”

“You- you did?”

He nodded, slowly.

“I was near your parents' place about three years ago and I stopped by, hoping to see you again. Get your phone number and maybe stay in touch - properly this time. But when I got there, your parents didn't look happy to see me,” an almost pained laugh spilled from his throat. “Now I get why.”

I reached out, placing my hand reassuringly on his arm. My own emotions started to spiral. Slowly at first, a combination of pure relief that Dean never forgot. He even remembered where my parents lived, which coloured me very impressed. The other emotion, which was now growing in the pit of my stomach, bubbling and burning was anger. Rage. My parents knew that Dean was Levi's father the moment I fell pregnant, and it was no secret that they held a strong dislike for him, yet I never pinned them petty enough to let their animosity towards him interfere with the chance to set things right. For their grandson to know his father, and maybe, just maybe, act like the family they so desperately wanted their daughter to have. The saddest part was that, even though I was undeniably furious with them, I wasn't surprised.

“Dean, I'm so sorry, they never told-”

“Don't apologise for them, (Y/n). I knew from the moment I saw you today that they never passed on the message.”

My reply was quiet, the hot fury quickly simmering down to cold disbelief towards my own family.

“You're right, they didn't.”

“They told me that you'd moved on. That you had a good job and a husband, and that… and that you resented me for leaving.”

“Fuck. Dean, none of that is true. I have a mediocre job at best, I'm certainly not married - never have been and probably never will. And Dean,” I moved my hand from his arm and slipped it into his warm palm, “I do not resent you.” I offered him a reassuring smile which he returned, tension quickly leaving his shoulders. Squeezing his hand, I continued, “If anything, I should say thank you.”

“Why would you thank me?” He looked puzzled.

“Because you've taken this surprisingly well for a man of your… calibre.”

He looked as though he didn't know whether insulted or flattered.

“Of my calibre?” He repeated, learning back slightly.

“Well, yeah. In just shy of twelve hours you found out you had a son with someone you've not spoken to in almost a decade, you met your son, took him from Motocross straight to get ice-cream, then brought a movie and popcorn around that very same evening. For someone with an entire armoury in the trunk of their car, I didn't expect… I didn't expect this… I didn't expect you.”

“Didn't expect me?”

I smiled, that warmth appearing in my chest again.

“You're a natural father, Dean. You've made everything easy today, and I'm grateful. So fucking grateful, because over the years I've spent near enough every night laying awake, imaging Levi finally meeting you. And I braced myself for every reaction - every scenario - that you could've thrown our way. So, thank you. I mean it. And thank you for believing me.”

“Believing you?”

“Yeah, for believing me when I said he was yours. I think most guys would've demanded a paternity test, especially after all this time,” I couldn't stop myself from picking the sleeve of my cardigan, anxiety creeping in at the thought that he still might ask for one. However, Dean simply shook his head.

“I trust you, (Y/n). I know you're not the sort of person to lie about things like that, so I believe you. Plus…” his eyes shone with something akin to pride, “ you can't tell me that he's not mine. That's a Winchester attitude through and through.”

We shared a laugh. A light, easy laugh that had me looking at him in that overly familiar way. In the same way that would make my heart skip beats in my chest. I simultaneously felt like I knew him like I used to - that we still had that connection, that bond that made it so easy to be around each other. To feel for each other. On the other hand, we’d spent so much time apart, living completely different lives and getting by in such different ways. He'd had adventures, experiences that I would probably never be able to comprehend, and through all of that I'd been here; living in a two bedroom house in a quiet cul-de-sac in a town far too similar to Stars Hollow than I'd like to admit. I went to work, did school runs, went grocery shopping and grabbed coffee with my best friend in the same fucking café practically every day. And last I remembered, Dean was balls deep in credit card fraud. I wanted to make this work so fucking desperately that it almost hurt. I wanted Levi to have his dad around, to have those experiences boys thrive off with their fathers. I don't expect Dean and I will ever live under the same roof or even be together again, but I'm pretty damn sure that we can be friends, and that is something that would rock Levi's world.

The sound of the door opening and closing startled me from my thoughts as Sam let himself back into the house, sliding the locks and chains into place before turning to face us. He carried two duffle bags, dropping one beside the couch and taking one with him to the table, placing it down carefully so as not to make too much noise. He unzipped it and pulled out a laptop and a small stack of books, holding them up for us to see, like a prize.

“I just… fucking love ghosts,” his tone was unconvincing yet he grinned like he knew something we didn't before taking a seat and getting to work. Dean and I shared a look before erupting into laughter, trying painstakingly hard to keep quiet.

“Is your brother from a different planet? Wait no, scratch that, you're both equally as strange as each other. Earthlings or not, you're certainly cut from the same cloth.”

Dean feigned hurt with a hand on his chest yet the grin never left his lips. He muttered a few things about Sam picking his moments before standing from the couch, jabbing his thumb towards the kitchen green eyes on mine.

“Another beer?”

I felt my grin stretch further across my face, my heart doing a little dance at the way he looked down at me, like he just wanted to sit and talk about everything and nothing all at once - just like we used to. I nodded, trying not to let the way the soft glow from the candles in the room made him look like ‘a night well spent’.

“Yeah, I'd love another beer.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 5

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx @rox2008 @jeysbae @ladykitana90 @proudbisexual @ladysparkles78 @elenasalvatore1 @bxtchboy69 @saemiau @lilithlunastark @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @riah1606 @impala67rollingthroughtown @berryblues46 @aylacavebear @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @whichwitchwanda @pillowjj @iloveyou2mia

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vivwritesfics · 11 months ago

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Dads Best Friend

Part One

The SMAU

The L/N family holiday was famed among their friends. The L/N boys took their good friend, Fernando, away with them and they had the best time. At twenty three years old Y/N L/N finally goes on her first L/N family holiday with her father and her brothers. She definitely doesn't fall in love with the Fernando Alonso what who said that?

2.5K

The L/N family vacation was something of legend. For years Y/N had been hearing for years just how amazing the holidays her dad took her brothers on were. Until she was in her twenties, she never got to attend this holiday.

When her parents split up, she went to live with her mother while her two brothers went to live with her father. They got to attend the holiday that their dad had planned while she was left to watch their snapchat stories of what a great time they were having.

And then Y/N turned twenty-three and she finally moved out of her mother’s house, into her own place. Without her mother’s clutch on her, she could finally go on that famous L/N family holiday.

That was where she met Fernando Alonso, her dad’s famous friend. He’d been joining the L/N boys on holiday for the last couple of years. For the first couple of years of the L/N boys’ holiday, Y/N couldn’t work out who Fernando was. She saw him on her brother’s snapchat stories, on the videos they sent to her.

And then she worked out who he was. Fernando Alonso, driver for McLaren F1 team (at the time). Things clicked into place after that. Y/N’s father used to work for Renault when Fernando was driving for them and the two had stayed good friends when Fernando had changed teams and her father had moved onto a new career path as an F1 journalist.

At twenty-three years old, Y/N went on her first holiday with her father and her brothers.

They stayed in a villa. It was huge, with five bedrooms, a huge pool and a kitchen big enough to house the entire F1 paddock. Fernando stayed in the same villa as the L/N family, seemingly blending in with the boys. It was Y/N who felt like a stranger.

It wasn’t clear if Fernando knew who she was, knew that she was his friend’s daughter, but he was instantly flirting with her. Well, at first, he was just being kind, smiling at her, complimenting her, things like that. But then his eyes lingered, his touches lingered.

And Y/N wasn’t complaining.

On her second holiday with her father, her brothers, and Fernando, things went just slightly further. She was just twenty four years old, so Fernando didn’t let it go too far.

It was after dinner, and the family had all been sat around drinking. Y/N’s father and brothers went off to bed after a single drink, but Y/N and Fernando stayed up. She was never into Formula One, so, after getting the both of them something more to drink, she asked him all about it. She shuffled her chair closer to better listen to him as he spoke, watching the way his eyes lit up, the way his lips moved.

They finished their drinks before Fernando had finished speaking, so Y/N got them more. He sipped his drink and continued speaking.

It wasn’t clear to either of them how it happened. Maybe he leaned in, maybe she leaned in. Neither of them knew, but soon Y/N was in his lap, his hands cradling her face as they kissed. They both had their eyes closed, his soft lips against hers, her hands in his hair.

Fernando gained clarity before she did. He still held her as he pulled away and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We can’t, cariño,” he whispered as she placed her head onto his shoulder. Fernando wasn’t going to let her do anything that she was going to regret.

They wanted to avoid each other for the rest of the holiday, to not let anything like that happen again. But it was damn near impossible. They swam in the pool together, sat together at dinner.

To the L/N boys, it was like nothing had happened between the two. They had no idea that anything had happened, and they wouldn’t. Not until at least a year later.

Y/N and Fernando had no contact between holidays. But she started watching Formula One, just as a way to feel closer to him.

In 2023, Y/N and Fernando both went on the L/N family holiday. Y/N was just twenty-five and Fernando was forty-two. But she hadn’t been able to get him out of her head for the last year.

Something was different this year. This year, Fernando had bought himself a yacht. This was where the holiday started, with the L/N family on his yacht.

It was magical, sunbathing on Fernando’s yacht, which ever so gently rocked with the waves. While her father set about exploring the vessel, for it really was magnificent, her brothers were jumping from the side of the yacht, into the waves. With no prying eyes, Fernando filled two dainty glasses with champagne and brought them to where Y/N was laying. He sat beside her, his hand settling on her knee.

Just like Y/N, Fernando didn’t want to stay away from her. Ever since she’d stepped onto his yacht and pulled off her sundress, he’d wanted her. But she was seventeen years his junior, he was almost old enough to be her father.

The moment they got some time alone, Fernando poured the champagne and sat beside her. She stayed laying down as he sat, his hand on her knee. At first they made idle conversation. Fernando asked her what she had been doing in the last year and Y/N did the same. She didn’t tell him that she had been watching the Formula Onne, that she had been following along with his career. That would have been too embarrassing.

At one point during their conversation, Y/N’s hand flew to her stomach as it rumbled, the sounds splitting the air between them. Fernando let out a laugh, unable to hide his smile as he looked down at her.

“Hungry?” He asked and she nodded her head. Fernando held out his hand and pulled her to her feet. She allowed herself to be pulled up and found herself standing incredibly close to him, her chest against his.

Fernando stepped back and Y/N pulled her sundress over her bathing suit. She pulled her shoes over her feet as Fernando did the same. He took a moment to inform her father what they were doing and invite him along, but he declined, sending the two off together.

That was how Fernando and Y/N found themselves walking through the streets of their sunny holiday destination. Their hands swung between them, brushing against each other, but they never linked their hands together.

They found a small restaurant. They had maybe four tables inside and a lovely courtyard area out the back. String lights sat above them, and Y/N bet it would have been gorgeous during the evening. Plants surrounded them, and Fernando couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as they sat down opposite each other.

They ordered and their conversation resumed. This was where Y/N admitted to watching the Formula One in her spare time. Somehow, Fernando’s smile grew. “I’ll have to bring you along to the next race,” he said, leaning forward with his hand’s clasps.

When Y/N and Fernando first met, she didn’t think conversation with him would be that easy. But it was, he was so easy to talk to. As their lunch was placed in front of them, Y/N never wanted it to end. She took small bites, trying to prolong their time together.

They didn’t kiss again on this holiday, but it was close. Y/N sat beside Fernando at every meal, sat beside him on every sun lounger. When the shower in her room broke, she found herself in Fernando’s bedroom, using his shower while he sat on his bed. She allowed herself to pretend that this was domestic bliss, that he was waiting to smother her with kisses the moment she stepped out of the shower.

This time after the holiday, they stayed in talking, texting almost every day. Y/N always assured Fernando that she was watching the races and rooting for him.

Fernando knew what he had to do now. He had to take her to a race. He picked his home race, allowed her to stay with him during. His choice not to tell her father was not born out of malice, but more of an oversight. It wasn’t supposed to be suspicious.

“Can I drive?” Was the first thing that Y/N said to him when he picked her up from the airport.

At first, Fernando said no. He was smiling as he shook his head and took her bags for her. But then she batted her eyelashes at him and said a ‘pretty please’, and Fernando caved. He tossed her the keys and climbed into the passenger seat.

The only problem was that Y/N didn’t know where she was going. They were unfamiliar roads that she drove on as she headed to his place. But she was loving every second of it as Fernando directed her. Eventually, though, she had to get out and give control back to him.

For the rest of the drive, with Fernando behind the wheel, he kept his hand on Y/N’s leg, thumb brushing over her skin. She didn’t say anything, didn’t tell him to leave her alone. Actually, she was enjoying it, enjoying the feeling of his touch against her. His hand was warm against her legs, cooled by the air conditioning.

***

Of course, if Y/N was going to be watching a race as Fernando’s guest, she had to be wearing an Aston Martin hat. It was Fernando that put the hat on her head, stood close to her, his hand on her waist. It wasn’t supposed to be romantic, but it was, his touch, the way he pushed her hair behind her ear before he put the hat on her head.

She walked through the paddock with him, hands close but not touching. She followed Fernando to the Aston Martin garage, ignoring the photographers’ snapping pictures of them like a trained professional.

And the photographers got everything. They caught every moment of Fernando looking at her with hearts in his eyes. Every time she looked at him, hearts in her own eyes. When Fernando touched her waist, the photographers captured that. All of the pictures flooded the internet, with nobody knowing just who she was.

Fans were watching the race, but they were also seeing these pictures of the Fernando Alonso and this new mystery woman. They searched every corner of the internet, desperately trying to find this woman. At last, somebody found Y/N’s account. She was private, but the F1 fans flooded her follow requests.

Y/N didn’t check her phone while she watched the race. Her eyes were locked onto the number fourteen car, watching as he overtook, fighting his way to the front of the grid. He didn’t win, just coming in second. But Fernando was insanely proud of his result. After the podium ceremonies he ran straight to Y/N, straight to his guest, and pulled her close.

He lifted her up, almost kissed her, but he held back. “My good luck charm,” he said and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at him.

That night, after the race, they didn’t hold back. Y/N was still staying with Fernando. It was her final night with him before she headed home. To make it special he made her a gorgeous dinner. Y/N had tried to cook, considering he’d just completed an exhausting race, but Fernando existed.

They shared a bottle of wine while they ate by candlelight.

Once they’d finished eating, they didn’t move. Fernando just looked at her. He didn’t move, didn’t get up to clear the plates, just stared. “I’m addicted to you.”

Y/N drew in a small gasp, but it wasn’t that surprising. She knew. She knew how Fernando felt about her, because she felt the same. She reached across the table, reaching for his hand. Fernando stood, and Y/N stood too. They stepped each other, wrapping their arms around each other as he pressed his lips to Y/N.

It was feverish, the way they clung to each other. It was so wrong, but it was so fucking right. Y/N held onto his shirt as they kissed, eyes shut. Fernando pushed her back until she hit the table, nearly knocking the candles over.

That seemed to be enough to pull them back to reality. Fernando pulled away from the table, pulling Y/N with him. He kissed her again and began clearing things away.

They weren’t in a relationship, but they spent a lot of time together. Most of Y/N’s social media had become pictures of Fernando, of their fun little almost dates. All of the pictures went onto her private Instagram, only with maybe three hundred of her friends.

When Lance Stroll, Fernando’s teammate and a lovely man, requested Y/N on Instagram, she accepted it. But she had so many fucking Instagram requests, it was insane to sort through them all. So, some crazed F1 fans slipped through the cracks. They slipped through, getting access to these pictures of her and Fernando.

Some F1 fans sucked. Not all of them, just some. Just some of them decided to use the comments of Y/N’s posts to voice their opinions on their relationship. On her relationship with Fernando. Everybody that commented wanted to say something negative.

At first Y/N tried to ignore it. She was enjoying the time she spent with Fernando and that was all that mattered. But it got to be too much. As she laid in bed with Fernando, her fingers tracing the tattoo on his back and neck, it was all she could think about.

People really fucking sucked. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from pulling away from Fernando. It was childish really, the way she let people get to her. All she wanted was to have her body pressed against his own, lips against his as he held her close. But, for the first time in months, she returned home.

If Fernando could tell she was pulling away or not, he didn’t say. She missed him, but their lives continued on like normal. Her pictures were no longer of Fernando and his life was back to racing. There were some fan’s who missed Y/N, missed her appearing at races, missed pictures of Fernando on her social media.

But she couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t deal with other people reactions to her being with Fernando. Even if all they did was kiss a little. They weren’t even a couple, and everybody hated her.

But it didn’t stop. She didn’t stop seeing news, false rumours, about her and Fernando across her timeline. So, she did the only thing she could think to do to stop it.

y/nl/n unfollowed fernandoalo_oficial

fernandoalo_official unfollowed y/nl/n

Tags: @biancathecool @formulaal @prettiest-at-the-party @rewmuslupin @darleneslane @hellowgoodbye @hollie911 (I'm assuming w that one) @nikolaros22 @callsignwidow

#fernando alonso #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso fluff #fernando alonso smut #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader smut #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #fa14 #fa14 imagine #fa14 x reader

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 year ago

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No Such Thing As Monsters

Summary: Dean is injured on a hunt and at first glance, appears to be fine. Quickly though, the reader and Sam learn something far more serious is going on...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,200ish

Warnings: language, injury

“Dean,” you said, shaking on his shoulder, his eyes flashing open, fist tightening around his angel blade. “You’re okay. Sam took care of the ghoul. How’re you doing?”

“I feel like I just went through a wall,” he said, shakily getting to his feet, cocking his head at the damaged sheetrock in front of him. “Looks like I did.”

“You sure you okay?” you asked, his head nodding. “Sam’s driving us home, just in case.”

“No arguments from me,” he said, giving Sam a nod when he showed up, following his brother the few blocks over to where you’d parked Baby. Dean grabbed the passenger door, slamming his hand on the roof.

“Dean...” said Sam. Dean scrunched up his face, placing a hand on his head. “Dean.”

“Take me to a hospital,” gritted out Dean, your eyes wide. “Now.”

“What’s wrong?” you said, shoving him in the backseat instead, climbing in beside him as Sam started gunning it for the closest one.

“My head. Something’s wrong. I don’t...just hurry.”

Eight Hours Later

Your excuse of Dean taking a hard fall worked with the doctors but you and Sam were staring at one another after finally getting to see Dean again.

“Let’s talk outside,” said the neurologist, Dean giving you a smile as you followed her out.

“What is wrong with my brother, Sally?” asked Sam the second the door to Dean’s room was shut.

“Retrograde amnesia as far as I can tell. He remembers certain things like his name, date of birth, address when he was a child. You’re lucky I was on call tonight to take his case. Neuro patients are hard enough, especially one’s that are hunters and have to lie about everything,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Sally, amnesia...isn’t that supposed to fade after a few hours at most?” asked Sam.

“Normally,” she said, taking a deep breath. “My best guess is a combination of lasting amnesia which will be hard to recover from but we can help him...and then he’s repressing all the hunting without realizing. You guys have seen some serious crap I’m sure he’d rather forget.”

“What do you mean repressing?” you asked.

“I mean, Dean thinks monsters are made up, creatures from stories. He doesn’t know they’re real,” she said. You raised an eyebrow, Sam shaking his head. “He doesn’t remember the ghoul, he doesn’t remember the Vamp you guys took care of for me years ago. Monsters aren’t real to him,” said Sally.

“He’s known monsters were real his whole life,” said Sam.

“Technically, since he was four, almost five,” said Sally. “There was a time when he didn’t think any of this was real so it is possible.”

“You’re telling me Dean thinks he’s five?” you said. “He’s in his thirties.”

“He doesn’t think he’s five. He just doesn’t remember certain things. Like he understands basic long term memories, who his parents are, who Sam is...more recent things he’s blocked out,” she said. “Either by choice or because he really can’t remember.”

“Does he remember me? I only started running with the guys about five years ago,” you said.

“He knows your name and that he loves you but that’s about it. The details are all fuzzy for him. Now Dean’s not exactly what I’d call a normal patient. He’ll get thrown in an institute if he starts remembering here in a hospital and God knows what’ll happen to him in there,” she said.

“What do we do then?” asked Sam, Sally sighing and grabbing a chart from the nurses station.

“He has no bleeding in his head, just a few minor cuts and bruises from his tussle. Take him home, try to get him to remember. Any problems and you guys call me. I’ll get you some materials that help sometimes,” she said.

“What if he doesn’t remember?” said Sam.

“Then he doesn’t. Either way, you need to be there for him. You guys gotta get going. The other neurologist starts his shift in an hour and he’s going to want to look at Dean if he’s still here.”

Dean was quiet on the way home, sitting in the backseat, leaning against the backdoor as he stared out the window. Sam simply went through the motions, making him dinner, sending him to bed after checking his bandages, Dean wearing a confused but happy smile the whole time.

“Y/N,” said Sam, catching you sipping on a drink the library, stealing the bottle to pour himself some.

“What are we going to do Sam?” you asked. “He’s...”

“Do you remember when I saved you from that fire? You promised you’d do anything I wanted. Anything. I told you maybe someday I’d take you up on it. We both know I was never going to but this...I’m cashing that favor in, Y/N,” he said, taking a long swig.

“Using a spell to get his memories back might be dangerous, Sam,” you said, earning a head shake.

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the fact that my big brother thinks the world is normal. The weight of it isn’t on his shoulders anymore. He’s so light and happy. You’re gonna pack up his stuff, pack up your stuff, and you’re going to take him to a little cabin that used to be Bobby’s. It’s not that far out in the boonies so you’ll have electricity and internet and then...you’re gonna help him get a job, get a job yourself and you two are going to get the hell out of this life,” he said.

“Sam that is not-”

“You’re doing this. If something comes after you, you can protect him. Try it for me. If he starts to remember on his own, come back but please, give it a try.”

Two Days Later

“I thought we lived at the bunker place?” asked Dean, sitting down at your new kitchen table, watching you whip up an easy dinner.

“We live here now,” you said, stirring the pot, taking a deep breath.

“What do we do now?” he asked with a smile. “Do I go to work?”

“We’ll find you a new job,” you said, Dean pursing his lips. “What is it Dean?”

“You’re not happy,” he said. “I want to fix it but I don’t remember how to do that.”

“We both have to get used to this new life,” you said, giving him a nod. “We will. I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean.”

“I love you though. Of course I worry about you,” he said with a smirk.

“You don’t even remember my birthday,” you said with a smile.

“I guess I get to learn everything I love about you all over again then,” he said. “I do know I love you. I definitely remember that.”

“I love you too Dean. Every version of you. We’ll get through this too.”

#spn #supernatural #dean x reader #one shot #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert

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girlwitheconverse · 5 months ago

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AMNESIA

╰┈➤ SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

Genre: romance, fluff, a little angst Story type: two part story, short story

Part 1 | Part 2

Word count: 2k

TW(s) for this part: mentions of torture, super brief mentions of r@pe, a lot of angst

Simon fan art credit: @shkretart

masterlist

taglist and requests masterlist

Taglist: @m3ntally-unstable

if you like MARVEL check out this

One year, thirteen days and eleven hours.

That’s the time passed since you’ve been declared missing in action, the time that Simon had spent without you, the time that made life feel like hell all over again for him. You had been his light in the dark, making his life seem meaningful again. He still remembers when you two met for the first time, when you saved his life on the battlefield, he remembers your first date – you asked him out first – it was a simple date at a pub, he remembers when you were drunk and pulled up his mask to kiss him.

He remembers when, as a gift for your one year anniversary, he showed you his face and you cried while telling him how handsome he was. Two weeks after that you went out on a mission, as usual, but you didn’t come back when the mission was supposed to end, or one day later, or one week later.

They hadn’t found your body so you got declared M.I.A., missing in action, instead of K.I.A., killed in action.

That happened one year, thirteen days and twelve hours ago.

Simon didn’t know what to believe, if you were alive, where were you? Why didn’t you come back? If you were dead, well…Simon didn’t even want to think about that possibility.

Today was supposed to be your second year anniversary, but you aren’t there to celebrate with him, and even though he knew that you wouldn’t magically appear in your room at the base he still placed the gift he got you on your bed: a silver ring.

He had never been too much invested in marriage, not really seeing the point in it…But with you? He definitely wanted to marry you, but didn’t want to go too fast so he decided to wait at least four years of relationship before asking you to let him be your husband.

That was a stupid idea.

You both were soldiers, risking your life everyday, waiting wasn’t something neither of you could afford. But, as they said, you understand the beauty of things only when you don’t have them anymore, right?

It took him one year, thirteen days and thirteen hours to understand that he should’ve married you sooner.

“Lieutenant Riley, the squad is ready.” A soldier says as he walks next to Simon to the exit of the base, they were going on a new mission, but they weren’t searching for you. They stopped after five months and two days – the Task Force stopped, not Simon, who was always using the mission as excuses to search for new intels about you from the enemies.

Simon doesn’t answer the soldier, acting cold like he wasn’t crying in your room a few minutes ago, he simply nods.

Simon is just Ghost now, on the battlefield, shooting the enemies at sight, not even caring if they had any family that was waiting for them, he didn’t pity them because no one pitied you. He finally reaches the interior of the building and finds the boss of the cartel watching him unfazed as he smokes.

“Are you here for me? Or for the bitch in my possession?” he asks as he lets the smoke get out of his mouth.

“Human trafficking too? This isn’t getting better for you.” Ghost snickers as he points his gun at the man.

“Human trafficking? Oh no, my boy – the man laughs – that woman is a rare jewel, I could never share her if not with some of my most trusted men, of course.” Hearing his words makes Ghost sick in the stomach, he feels that something is off and for the first time in his life he hopes that his instincts are wrong. “You, with the skull mask over there, is your name Ghost by any chance?”

Ghost’s eyes widen a little but he quickly regains his composure, “How did you know?”

“‘Cause that was the only name that bitch could say when I got her a year ago, her name is something like…Y/n? Do you know her or is she just a groupie of yours?” The man laughs and Simon’s heart skips a beat.

Y/n is alive?

His Y/n is alive?

“Where is she?!” Simon snaps and holds the gun against the boss’ neck, “Where is Y/n.”

“Oh, so she is someone important…Let me go out of this place untouched and I’ll tell you how to find her.”

“Deal.” Simon says as he lowers his gun.

“Three floors under this, two of my men stand in front of the door of her room, tell them I sent you and they’ll let you in.” The man explains with a smirk as he walks to the door of the room.

“Thank you for the information,” Ghost says before shooting at the man right in the back of his head, “asshole.”

The next thing he knows is that he’s running down the stairs of the building until he reaches the floor where two men stand in front of a metallic door, “Your boss sent me.” He says, the men look at eachother confused before Ghost shots at both of them in the head. He takes a deep breath and kicks the door open, the room is empty and dirty, the only thing he sees is a small figure curled up against a corner as she rocks back and forth, hugging her knees and with her head between them.

“Y/n?” He asks softly as he kneels next to her, the girl looks up at him and he immediately recognizes you. You’ve lost weight, your cheeks are more hollow, your body more fragile, and your eyes more dull but it’s definitely you.

He knows it.

“Don’t hurt me please…” You whisper as you crawl more against the corner, as if you just want to disappear.

“Y/n, sweetheart, I would never hurt you…” Simon whispers back as he holds out his hands to touch you but you flinch and move your arm away.

“I don’t trust you.” You say as you look at him from behind your arm, using it as some sort of shield.

“Sweetheart, don’t you recognize me? It’s me, Simon, Ghost, your Simon…” He whispers trying to not show how much your words hurt him, he more than anyone understands how torture can change someone and he won’t judge you.

“Who are you? Do you work with him too? Are you new?” You ask as you look at him with wide eyes, scared.

“Darling it’s me…Your boyfriend…” He says as he looks at you frantically, have they brainwashed you? Have you…lost your memory?

“I have a boyfriend?” You ask as you slowly let your guard down, why do you already trust this stranger so much?

One year, thirteen days and twenty one hours is the time that took him to find you.

And you have no idea who he is.

“This place is…nice.” You say as you walk around what this man, Simon, says is your room at this military base. You trust him, I mean, he showed you the records of your past missions, he showed some photos of you two together – with dates that go back to two years and more ago – so why shouldn’t you?

And he’s so sweet and gentle with you, he treats you like you’re made of glass.

“The doctor said that your amnesia shouldn’t be permanent…” Simon sighs as he sits on your bed and with a quick motion takes the ring that he had left on your bed before the mission back and hides it in his pocket, without you noticing anything.

“I hope so…” You say as you look at the framed photo on your nightstand: you and Simon hugging in your gear, probably after a mission, “I would love to remember our relationship, it seems so…happy, healthy and full of love…” You smile and take the frame in your hands, then you look at Simon, “You said I’ve been missing for over a year, and you still searched for me?”

Simon chuckles, almost offended at your question, “of course darling, and if I hadn’t found you today I would’ve continued searching for you…Until my death.”

“I was one hell of a lucky woman…I mean…I am one hell of a lucky woman?” You say confused as you place the frame where you found it.

“You don’t remember our relationship so I guess considering us a couple must be…strange, for you…” you hear him whisper under his breath, “so you don’t have to see me as a boyfriend you don’t remember, see me as a…best friend, or just a friend…or a coworker…” he starts to panic, then he takes a deep breath and looks back at your eyes, “just…see me as what makes you comfortable the most…”

You can’t help but smile, he seems like a sweet man, you were lucky to have him as your boyfriend — friend, for now.

“Perhaps there’s something that can help me remember everything? Remember…us?” You ask as you look at him with a hopeful look, he seems so sweet and caring that he just makes you want to remember your relationship. “I don’t know…something we used to do together?”

He thinks for a few seconds, “We did almost everything together…” he chuckles, “But every Saturday evening we would meet up in my room and listen to the radio as we cuddled in the bed. That was definitely a weekly routine.”

Simon looks up at you with eyes full of love because, you may not remember him, but he remembers you perfectly; he remembers your first kiss, he remembers your first date, he remembers the first time you two had together, he remembers every curve of your body.

Just then an idea crosses his mind, now he knows what to do if you don’t get your memories back: you fell in love with him once, he could make you fall in love with him all over again.

“The idea of cuddling may look uncomfortable for you, since you don’t remember anything…so, what do you think about a date? We could ask for a few days of leave and try to give you your memories back…What d’ya think?” He asks with an hopeful smile as he looks at you. “Maybe a picnic or something like that…”

“I’m in.” You say with a smile without thinking twice about it.

And just like that you find yourselves back in London, everyday Simon takes you out for a date, each one always different from the one before. You slowly start gaining back your memory, but they are just pointless memories of the names of your hamsters, or an order Price gave you a long time ago.

But no memories of Simon, zero, absolutely nothing.

But that doesn’t stop him, not even in the slightest, he continues taking you out on dates, talking to you about all the things you did and used to do together; he tells you what happened on the day of your first anniversary and shows you his face again, in the intimacy of your apartment.

You two had planned, one year ago, to move in together in that apartment together once you’d be back from the mission, the same mission where you went M.I.A.

That’s the only thing he doesn’t tell you, because he didn’t know how you could react to that information.

You don’t remember your love for him, but it wasn’t hard for you to fall in love with him all over again in no time, with all the dates he took you in this week.

“Simon, I have to tell you something…” You say while you two are sitting on the couch of your apartment, watching a movie. Simon turns his head towards you with a soft smile, “I don’t know if the memories will ever come back completely, or come back at all…”

“It’s okay, we’ll work on that.” Simon says with a smile as he gently caresses your cheek.

“What I mean is…I don’t remember how our relationship was…I don’t remember loving you, but…Now, I do, love you…” You say as you lean your face in his touch, smiling softly. Simon’s eyes shoot wide as he looks at you.

“Are you sure? I- I don’t want you to feel pressured or…or forced to have feelings for me…” He says nervously as he examines your expression with his eyes, trying to understand if you really mean it or are just saying that to comfort him.

“Hundred percent sure, Si…I love you.” You smile, Simon’s eyes fill with tears as he softly kisses your lips.

He had missed the feeling of your lips on his so much…

“I love you too, I love you so much that you can’t even imagine.” He says as he giggles through the tears and kisses you again. “I don’t care if you get your memories back or not, we’ll build other memories together.”

“Together.”

I love making people cry <3

Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

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wh0rezs · 2 years ago

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“PIRANHA”

PAIRING: DAD!JAKE SULLY X DAUGHTER! READER, MOM!NEYTIRI SULLY X DAUGHTER! READER

SUMMARY: An ordinary day is interrupted by the wailing of children and someone screaming “she bit me, she bit me” and years in the future the Sullys relive the past.

WARNINGS: non, fluff, mentions of blood and biting, fighting

Neytiri and Jake relaxed in the newfound silence that filled the hut, Mo’at had graciously agreed to take her four grandchildren to the play grounds/ training of “young warriors” for the new parents.

Soon their peace was interrupted by the rustling of the flaps, and emerged was one Jake’s trainee, greeting the Olo’eyktan and tsakarem in the customary way .

“Olo’eyktan and tsakarem, you must come to play grounds. There has been a situation involving your eldest child, [name].” the young warrior huffed as the mated pair stood up at lightning speed.

As they ran towards the play ground, their minds swirling of the most terrible outcomes- [name] having an arrow sticking out of her arm or eye, or [name]’s tiny body broken in several places. But the sounds of Omaticaya child- boy and definitely not one of theirs-yelling words at someone reached their ears.

Quickly the scene came clear to them- a young boy, roughly a year older than you, was clutching his right arm while his parents comforted him and Mo’at was putting a salve on his arm. Neytiri and Jake’s eyes switched to other side where their own children and Tarsem (young boy who hung out with [name]) stood. On both of [name]’s hips rested Lo’ak and Kiri, who were both four. Neteyam, who was five, stood behind his sister.

The boy’s wails finally reached Jake’s ears again once he realized his own children were safe, and now it was clear he was screaming “she bit me, she bit me.”

“Mo’at, what happen here? Who bit the boy?” Jake demanded, pulling everyone’s attention. Mo’at glanced at Jake before her eyes flicked towards you, his eldest child at the age 6.

“Seems like your daughter bit the boy, and wouldn’t let go until she was dragged off of him” she told him and showed him the boy’s arm where sure enough there was your teeth marks tattooed into his skin. As Jake glanced at you, you smiled showing off red at the end of your canines.

“[name] tell me why you did this and then apologize to the poor boy.” Neytiri commanded you, and you quickly explained that the boy Taronyu was bullying Lo’ak and Kiri for their tawtute looks. Lo’ak happily clapped and laughed at the story, as if it was the funniest thing to hear when you said bit him.

Jake couldn’t help but feel proud of you for defending your siblings as you apologized to Taronyu. Afterwards, Neytiri took Kiri and Lo’ak from you, and the Sullies headed home for the day.

On the way, Jake ruffled your braided hair and whispered “I am proud of you, my little piranha.” You glanced up at him, clearly confused as what a piranha was.

[10 YEARS LATER]

The scuffle on the beach reached Tonowari and Jake’s ears, as ear piercing scream broke the silence. When the two dads reached the scene, they were surprised to see the Metkayinas trying to pull a deep blue body off an ocean blue body.

Jake quickly assessed the scene, finding three out of the four eldest also huddled around the two. His eyes darted to familiar body, whose tails and arms were being pulled at by Ao’nung, was when he pieced together the puzzle. Your incredible sharp teeth were sunken in to the Metkayina’s arm, and you weren’t going to let go as easily as 10 years ago.

“[name] let go.” he commanded and you quickly did with red staining your canines. The whole group started off to mauris, all the children getting hell from both respected adults.

“And [name], what the hell was that? Biting someone like a that?” Jake turned his attention to the smiling form of his daughter. You explained that Ao’nung and his goons had harassed Kiri, calling her a freak and once the fighting started you did what you knew best.

Jake hid his smile at your explanation, and later that night he explained to Neytiri that it felt deja vu. The sight of you smiling, teeth stained red, at the thought of protecting your young siblings. You were always gonna be his little piranha.

A/N: this sucks but i love comforting fanfics

#dad jake sully #dad!jake x daughter!reader #mom!neytiri x reader #avatar 2009 #avatar 2009 x reader #sully family x reader #atwotw x reader

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profoundbondfanfic · 2 months ago

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Any destiel amnesia au fic recs to soothe my gentle heart, I read one au called two worlds apart and as much fun it was I'm also heartbroken 😭 and I want to fix it with another amnesia au where they are both are very much alive in the end, also maybe with a dash of fluff and tension?

Here are a few recs with fluff and a happy ending!

Basic Lessons in First Aid, Magical or Otherwise by stuffy_j (Explicit, 54k words)

Most people probably wouldn’t take the naked, heavily wounded man they found in an alley home with them. Most people probably wouldn’t also offer that man a place to stay and become his best friend after realizing he’s suffering from an intense case of post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. Most people probably wouldn’t then risk almost everything they know to save said man, and maybe save the world in the process. But then again, Dean Winchester, RN (with a specialty in supernatural care), has never been like most people. He may not have a magical bone in his body, unlike his brother Sam, but he’ll do whatever it takes to help. Even if Castiel has questionable opinions about Star Trek.

Here We May Be Free by FriendofCarlotta (Explicit, 39k words)

When Dean was eleven, he saw something in the ocean: a boy with blue eyes and iridescent scales. Almost twenty years later, a spontaneous detour after a hunt brings Dean and Sam back to the town where that encounter took place. And Dean can’t shake the feeling that Castiel, the owner of the local Mermaid Museum, looks familiar…

Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) by sobsicles (Explicit, 66k words)

When he wakes, he has no idea who he is. Not his name, what he looks like, or why he’s flat on his back, staring up at the stars littering the night sky. The first thing he learns about himself is that he has shitty instincts, especially if his first one is to protect the blue-eyed man currently stabbing someone in the face. Or, the story where two strangers can’t agree on much and know even less, but they’re both fairly certain that they’re in love.

Paper Moon by robotsnchicks (Explicit, 43k words)

By the time he hits thirty-three, Dean's given up on the apple pie life, accepting that a serious relationship isn't in the cards for him. But when he meets Cas everything falls into place. Now he’s happily married, hopelessly in love, and they’re about to buy their first home together. It almost feels too good to be true. It turns out it is. His world comes crashing down when he wakes to find that he’s been a subject in a virtual reality simulation gone wrong. All the years he thought he spent with Cas were actually experienced in less than a week. And when he gets out, Cas is nowhere to be found and nobody has heard of him. Ignoring the possibility that Cas may not be real, Dean sets out to find him and convince him that it’s worth giving Dean — and their relationship — a shot in the real world.

The Same Mistake, Again by zaphodsgirl (Mature, 43k words)

One night, after watching Dean pick up yet another girl while they're out at a bar, Cas heads to the local diner. Over the years his feelings of attraction have only deepened into something more, and he wishes desperately to go back to the time before he was in love with his best friend. His wish is granted in an unexpected way: he wakes up in the hospital the next morning with broken limbs - an arm and a leg- and a fractured memory with the last four years missing.

The Stars Will Remember by casblackfeathers (Explicit, 60k words)

Being a hunter was all Dean knew ever since his mother had been killed by a demon when he was four. Hunting, offing monsters, and then jumping to the next case was his life. Then he met the most alluring and breathtaking omega he had ever seen and spent the next five years loving the hell out of Cas, their life together filled with the domestic lovey-dovey stuff Dean had never thought he would dig so much. When a simple salt-and-burn goes sideways, it ends up with Cas’ memories stolen from him. Dean is left to pick up the pieces of the life they built together, his ‘make it up as he goes’ strategy to prove to his mate that Dean’s still worth a damn, his only chance at getting Cas back. He’s done a shitty-ass job at keeping Cas safe before, but he will pull out all the stops now to woo his mate again and stir the memories Dean knows are still there buried deep inside Cas’ mind.

The Story of You and Me by the_diggler (Explicit, 54k words)

Dean wakes up in bed next to a very human Castiel, and a journal in his own handwriting that tells him it’s two years in the future. The house looks a lot like Bobby’s, and Sam lives there too… He just can’t remember how they got from angels falling in the sky – to comfortable domesticity. While there is much in the journal Dean doesn’t remember, there is much of their story he’s always known. And as he settles into the routine of his new life and relationship with Castiel, it quickly becomes something he doesn’t know how to live without.

Unveil the Splendours of Your Heart by thefandomsinhalor (Mature, 68k words)

When a reporter asks Dean, a homeless man with a mysterious past, why he exclusively keeps close to the billboards and posters of a specific male model—the one Dean likes to refer to as the angel with spectacular blue eyes—in a moment of weakness, thinking it won’t change anything about his situation, Dean tells him the truth: it’s how he finds comfort and solace. Something that is difficult to come by. That is until the story reaches the ears of Castiel Novak, the model in question.

Whiskey & November by dothraki_shieldmaiden, FriendofCarlotta (Explicit, 188k words)

There is a place in L.A. where the richest of the rich can make their dreams come true. For an outrageous sum, they can hire an “angel” who is programmed to be exactly what they need: a stripper, a scientist, a temporary boyfriend. Most people don’t choose to question who the angels are, or where they came from. Sam Winchester is not most people. His brother Dean went missing in L.A. two years ago, and Sam has spent all that time trying to track him down. The trail leads him to a shadowy organization known as “Heaven” that coerces people into giving up their identities and personalities so they can be reprogrammed for Heaven’s purposes. Inside Heaven, trouble is brewing: two of the angels, Whiskey and November, are beginning to break through their programming. As they fall for each other and fight to remember who they are, they discover that they have an ally already working to bring down Heaven from within.

Not really amnesia, but they think they have it:

Found Family by Dizzybunny (Explicit, 55k words)

When Alpha Captain Castiel Novak returns to the US after being rescued from three years of captivity, he is amazed to find a family he doesn’t remember living in his house. Not just any family - his omega husband and pups. Dean had been told Castiel was MIA, and probably dead. Living in Castiel’s old house, raising his own and Castiel’s pups as a single father had been difficult, but he managed. Now Castiel is back. Can he fit into the life Dean has made? Can Dean adjust to having an alpha? Does Castiel want a husband he can’t remember?

White Lies & Winter Blues by PaperAnn (Explicit, 37k words)

When Castiel drives by a car wreck, he should’ve heeded the warning, ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions.’ He’s a nurse, it’s a record-breaking, cruel winter, and upon seeing the driver hypothermic and near-death—his instincts kick in. Cas doesn't think, he jumps into action to save the omega. Once the ambulance arrives, Castiel joins the ride. Then in the hospital room, he keeps a watchful eye over the omega's treatment and care. All under the guise of being ‘his alpha.’ Castiel’s plan was innocent, wishing for a quick recovery, followed by quicker exit. Except, he misses his shot. The omega awakes and the nurse beats Cas to the punch, with the declaration, “You’re lucky your mate found you in time!” causing all hell to break loose. There are no questions. A starry-eyed and love-struck Dean Winchester automatically believes the accident caused amnesia, that Cas is his mate. This wasn’t supposed to happen! Now entangled in his own lies—still reeling from the unexpected discovery they’re true mates—Cas feels helpless. He doesn’t know what the fuck to do! Besides...playing along. Paving his road to hell, one good intention at a time.

#asks #destiel #group rec #amnesia

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vanteguccir · 11 months ago

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── ୨୧ !　𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗬 𝗥𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗜𝗢𝗡

　　　　　　𝒋𝒂𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒆 x mikaelson!reader

SUMMARY: When Edward decides to leave Bella behind for her own safety, Y/N take the lead to take the Cullens to the town where she grew up, with her only concern being how to explain for them her real there.

WARNING: None.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Edward, if you really want to disappear... I know a place we can go." Y/N said, looking directly into the mind reader's eyes, hoping to see some kind of emotion there.

Y/N could imagine the mess that was in Edward's head, the fact that he had, or rather, wanted to leave Bella behind for the girl's own safety was killing him from the inside, and despite feeling angry at the quick choice he made, she couldn't judge him. Y/N could never see herself away from Jasper, just imagining the possibility made her frozen heart hurt.

"Where?" Rosalie chimed in, looking at Y/N waiting for her response.

"New Orleans." She responded a few seconds later, feeling everyone's eyes focus on her.

Everyone in the Cullen family had a story that began at their birth and, often, ended with their last breath before becoming creatures of the night, stories of when their surname was something else, not Cullen.

Each one took their own time to reveal this story to the others, but it was never difficult for Y/N, after all, her life was normal before anything else... Right?

The vampire was born in London, but at the age of thirteen she moved to New Orleans with her mother after her parents divorced for reasons that Y/N didn't know to this day. Her mother chose New Orleans based on the idea that her parents, Y/N's grandparents, lived there and her ancestors came from there too.

From the age of thirteen, Y/N discovered the culture of New Orleans and grew up surrounded by it: street parties, blues players on every corner, restaurants open 24 hours a day, bright night bars and so on. At least that's what Y/N told her new family.

The truth is that the girl came from a lineage of extremely strong and well-known witches in the supernatural world, the Mikaelsons. Anyone who is smart enough would have a question mark in their mind now, after all, the Mikaelsons who are still alive are all vampires and vampires don't procreate, right? Right!

But what if part of the story has never been told? Not in bedtime stories, at least.

Niklaus' father was not the only affair Esther had, the mother of the Mikaelson family had a thing for supernatural beings and, therefore, in addition to werewolves, Esther became involved with a great wizard at the time, from the Bishop lineage.

Wizards weren't as well known at the time, as everyone focused on the female image within witchcraft, sometimes with curious eyes and sometimes with evil ones, but that doesn't mean they didn't exist, and Esther not only found one, she had a daughter with him.

Five years before Esther decided to turn her children into bloodthirsty creatures, she gave birth to Agnes Bishop-Mikaelson. Knowing the gigantic problem it would create if she showed up at home with another daughter in her arms, after her 9-month "trip", and that the child was not Mikael's, Esther decided to leave Agnes with her father and pretend that she never existed, completely removing the name Mikaelson from the child.

And it worked, no one from the Bishop family ever looked for her throughout her life and eternity, but that doesn't mean that the story of having remnants of a Mikaelson in the family tree wasn't passed on.

And Y/N, from the age of thirteen, grew up surrounded by infinite grimoires of her lineage, listening to stories told by her grandparents and mother, finally being able to understand why she could make fire light out of nowhere or objects levitate.

But although the girl saw her magic as a salvation, it was her downfall as well.

After the death of her grandparents, her mother became lost in grief and loneliness, going to the other side of the veil a few months later, leaving Y/N alone in a world of supernatural beings who would do anything to kill her if they knew about her great-great grandmother.

It didn't take much for the story of Esther's secret daughter to be revealed, and consequently, the existence of Y/N. Beings from all over the United States began to appear to the girl, wanting her life in exchange for revenge, and then her ancestors began to haunt her dreams trying to help her, but Y/N didn't understand that, and the situation only left everything worse for her.

Until one day, a charming man wearing a suit that was too expensive to wear on any given day appeared at the door of her house, offering protection and help in exchange for explanations.

Elijah was extremely helpful after understanding what his mother did to the Bishop lineage, being grateful that Y/N had no reservations in showing him all the grimoires and diaries of her ancestors, revealing the complete truth.

And with that Y/N was welcomed by the Mikaelson family, being able to train her magic with Esther's grimoires too, despite not having any physical help, since Kol, one of the Mikaelson brothers, was sleeping in some kind of coffin and Freya was dead, or something like that.

But it was one night when Y/N was walking alone through the streets of New Orleans, eager to return to the home of who she considered family, when everything was stolen from her.

An old and strong enemy of Esther appeared accompanied by reinforcements and not even with all of Y/N's still little knowledge would she have been able to stop them, the girl had only recently started studying strong magic and blamed herself for it, despite it not being her fault.

The girl was kidnapped and taken to a warehouse far from the entrance to New Orleans, surrounded by orchards, where she was tortured for hours, or was it days?

With the little strength she had left, Y/N was able to escape a few meters away from the warehouse, and it was there that she was found by Esme, who at the time was looking for fragrant apples to decorate the counter of her temporary home with her family.

Y/N could never be able to thank Esme enough for saving her life that day, if it weren't for the eldest, she would not have survived, already extremely weak and with fractures that caused irreversible damage to her organs, which would only lead to a slow death. Therefore, when Esme arrived at his house suddenly with the young woman in his arms, Carlisle spared no time before transforming her.

And then Y/N Cullen's new life began. She knew that hiding the whole truth wasn't right, but the last thing she wanted was to put the Cullen family in danger, already putting them at risk enough just by being with them.

"Are you sure you're ready to go back there, my love?" Jasper's question interrupted Y/N's triggered memories, and the girl was momentarily grateful that, with her magic, she could block Edward's reading.

"Yes, it's time to face those fears. Pack your bags, we'll leave at nightfall." Y/N informed decisively, turning around and going to her shared room with Jasper, finally being able to take a deep breath and organize her mind.

She needed to tell them before they put a foot in New Orleans, the girl knew that Niklaus would know of her arrival within seconds and she definitely didn't want to cause any more drama.

Y/N took out her phone and opened the contacts, her finger hovering over Elijah's contact, sighing and closing her eyes tightly before locking the screen, her last meeting with the Mikaelsons wasn't one of the best; Niklaus demanded that Y/N return home, despite her type of vampire being different, while Rebekah blamed herself for not having protected her enough before that night and Elijah tried to calm the whole situation, also begging her with his eyes to return to them, they missed her company, but she knew she couldn't, not at the time.

The girl shook her head, trying to shake off the thoughts, and picked up her and Jasper's bags, starting to organize the piles of clothes that she would take for both of them.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"There, everyone's ready?" Emmett asked after loading all the bags into the four cars and closing the trunk of the last one. Everyone responded with a simple wave and got into their respective cars, Y/N heading to the car she would use with Jasper, getting into the passenger seat and waiting for the long journey to begin.

"Baby, what's going on? Ever since you decided to take us to New Orleans you've been quiet. You know if you don't want to go there, we can aways choose another place-" Jasper began, his right hand on Y/N's thigh as his eyes remained on the road in front of him, casting quick glances at his girlfriend.

"No Jas, I'm fine, just thinking... I wasn't completely truthful with you guys about my life before I turned." She said, looking closely at Jasper, waiting to see his reaction, but only received a nod as if to say "you can continue, I'm all ears". "I think it would be better for everyone to listen." Y/N muttered, pulling out her phone and quickly starting a group call with one person from each car.

"Y/N? Unless Jasper lost his hand, I don't see why you're calling us. Your car looks great." Rosalie was the first to answer, being in the car behind Jasper and Y/N.

Y/N let out a laugh while Jasper rolled his eyes, Rosalie could be sarcastic when she wanted.

"Hello to you too, Rose. I'm just calling you all because I think I should tell you everything before we get to New Orleans. I wasn't completely truthful in the life story I told you before." Y/N began, beginning her long and tragic life story, smiling small when she had everyone's attention.

"This is all... Wow." Alice muttered from Edward's car. "How come I didn't see any of this?"

"Like I said, I'm a witch, and even with the transformation, for some reason, my magic wasn't interrupted or broken, in fact it became stronger and I have more control over it, that's why you only see me in some of your visions and Edward only hears some of my thoughts, I decide what you can see and hear." Y/N explained, seeing a sideways smile spread across Jasper's face, he knew she didn't mention him because she didn't hide her emotions from him, she never did.

"I think it's a lot of information to digest in a short amount of time, but we understand why you kept it from us for so long and I'm grateful that you wanted to protect us all." Carlisle took the lead, followed by "uhum's" from everyone, Y/N sighed in relief.

"When we get there, are we going to stay at this Mikaelsons' house or...?" Alice asked, looking out the window at the constantly changing landscape.

"We're going to the house I grew up in, I never sold or rented it. It must be dusty, but I promise it's big enough for all of us."

"Just the fact that I won't need to sleep with Edweirdo makes it good enough for me." Emmett joked, everyone laughing simultaneously, which calmed the tension.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

It didn't take long for the traditional "Welcome to New Orleans" sign to appear up ahead.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, she couldn't imagine the Mikaelsons' reaction to seeing her again, so many years later. And she couldn't lie and say that she wasn't afraid of the Cullens' reaction to seeing what a mess her "other life" was.

The girl quickly took out her phone and opened the message group she shared with the Cullens.

"We arrived in the city that never sleeps, this is my home address, but you can just follow Jasper and I and we'll be there soon."

After sending the text, Y/N started giving Jasper directions to the entrances, trying not to look at the places they passed, as she knew she would get stuck in a memory loop. Finally, after many entrances, the girl saw the house where she spent her adolescence and early youth, smiling small as she felt her eyes fill with tears.

"It's that one over there." She said, pointing to the two-story house with a light pink fence in the front and pastel yellow curtains, just like her grandmother liked.

It wasn't long before the family found themselves unloading the suitcases from the cars and taking them to the living room, Emmett cracking jokes while Esme scolded him and Alice talked about all the clothing and shoe stores she saw on the way there.

A sound of approaching footsteps caught the family's attention, and they looked up to see a blond, green-eyed man approaching with an expression of anger and surprise.

"So it's true?" He spoke up, making Y/N freeze in the middle of the room, her hand dropping the backpack she was holding. "Y/N Bishop-Mikaelson everyone!" The man continued loudly with an ironic tone and sarcastic smile, opening his arms.

"Nik." Y/N whispered, closing her eyes tightly.

"Did you finally remember that you have a family, Y/N? Or did you come to ask for help with some nonsense you got into?" Niklaus asked rhetorically, staring at the entrance where he could see the girl's silhouette.

"Niklaus, please." Y/N spoke, turning and leaving the house, stopping a few meters away from the older man.

The hybrid stopped for a few seconds, analyzing the girl he saw as a daughter before she disappeared from his life, and the only girl Niklaus would set the world on fire if necessary, besides his brothers.

"Why did you come back?" He asked, crossing his arms, as if he was in charge of the city, which in a way is not a lie.

"We were in trouble in Forks and needed some time away." She responded with a sigh, quickly glancing at the Cullens behind her, who were paying attention to the moment without trying to interfere.

"Problems?" Nik paused for a second, a thread of worry passing through his eyes, which was quickly drowned out. "And do you find refuge here?" His nervous tone returned.

"Yes Niklaus, if you don't remember, I grew up here and my entire lineage is from here, I have the right to return to my home." Y/N argued, taking a rigid stance, pointing to her own chest.

"Oh, now New Orleans is your home? Funny how-"

"That's enough Niklaus." A second male voice came before the vision of a dark-skinned man wearing an expensive suit emerged.

"Great, a family reunion! Just what I needed right now." Y/N spoke with false excitement, rolling her eyes.

"Good to see you too Y/N." Elijah spoke, stopping next to Klaus and looking at everyone behind the Mikaelson girl, noticing their uncomfortable expressions at the sudden encounters and barbs exchanged between Nik and Y/N. "Why don't we have dinner at our house with everyone and... talk? We miss you Y/N and it would be great to meet the ones you consider family. If they're important to you, they're important to us too." He finished, sending a quick smile to the Cullens and receiving ones in return.

It would be long months.

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bucketbueckers · 11 days ago

Text

I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER THREE

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur wc: 7.3k notes: same shit, different chapter, masterlist, content warnings, place name backstory stuff. not my favorite chap but lots of paige & tess content so hopefully that makes up for it being boring af 😸 hope we enjoy 🫶

‘Prepare for Take Off! Tess Kennedy and Paige Bueckers Share Sweet Goodbye in Crowded Airport’

Tess Kennedy and Paige Bueckers have been a trending topic ever since Wednesday morning when fans speculated that Bueckers flew out to support Kennedy during her ACL recovery. In that time, Kennedy and Bueckers have shared a total of five pictures to their Instagram stories, each becoming more and more obvious as to who they are spending time with. Kennedy’s most recent story included a photo of her injured leg in the lap of (you guessed it!) a faceless individual, though just a half hour later, both Kennedy and Bueckers were pictured together at the Columbia Metropolitan Airport.

Onlookers said that Bueckers and Kennedy were attached at the hip, all smiles as they navigated the busy airport. Before Bueckers boarded the plane back to Connecticut, she and Kennedy shared a sweet hug before they pulled away. One commenter said that they seemed to share a few words, then Bueckers was off. Another commenter noted a sort of sadness etched on Kennedy’s face as she lingered. She seemed to be deep in thought. While, obviously, we are not in the business of being mind-readers, it is clear that Kennedy had some strong feelings about Bueckers leaving. In the short three days they have been seen together, their bond is evident, and fans are anxiously awaiting their next interaction.

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

MAY 6, 2023

Tess is nursing a cup of half-melted ice when the FaceTime call from Paige comes through. It’s nearly startling – she’d been scrolling TikTok for the past hour, trying to distract herself from literally everything. It was difficult at first. Her feed was mostly basketball related things and huge think pieces about her and Paige – people seemed to think that Paige was saving her, which was ridiculous. It took about thirty minutes and countless refreshing, but she’s sure she successfully factory reset her algorithm. She was seventeen parts into a pirated movie and it was nearing the good part when Paige’s contact photo took over her screen.

She accepts the call, forgetting to control her face. “Hey! Woah, who pissed in your Cheerios?”

Paige’s voice flows through her airpods and Tess corrects her scowl, popping another ice cube in her mouth. “You did. I was watching Hidden Figures on TikTok and you interrupted me.”

Paige’s brows furrow dramatically. Tess takes the moment to study her screen, noting the headboard behind Paige and the dim lighting. She’s wearing a pair of glasses that sit low on the bridge of her nose, and judging by the blanket furled around her exposed shoulders, Paige must have just rolled into bed. “My bad, jus’ thought you would wanna talk to your girlfriend or sum’ after a really long plane ride.”

“It was like, four hours,” Tess states, rolling her eyes, though there’s a lingering fondness.

The blonde hums, shifting. “Try four hours and one minute. I sat next to this old guy and he snored the entire time. Like, I had my airpods in and everything and here comes Thomas the fucking train engine and shit. And in case that wasn’t bad enough, none of my teammates could pick me up so I got an Uber home and the driver just kept yapping about how South Carolina destroyed UConn’s last year.”

Tess nearly chokes on an ice cube as she laughs, much to Paige’s chagrin. “Yeah? How’d that make you feel?”

Paige narrows her eyes at her. “Stop gloating.”

“I’m not!”

Paige waves her hand, kissing her teeth before refocusing. “What’s with the ice cubes?” she asks.

For a moment, Tess considers playing it off. She doesn’t want Paige to think of her any differently if she admits the truth about it. She was slowly getting used to feeling guilt all the time, but she was wholly unprepared for the amount of shame weighing her down. Thinking about the fact she drank herself into an alcohol dependence – not addiction; she is not addicted and that’s a hill she’s willing to die on! – is humiliating. Tess would never lord anyone else’s struggle over their head, but it’s different with her. She’s still not sure how to give herself the same grace and compassion she’d give others. Her Uncle Gio had his fair share of alcohol issues, though he was also a war veteran; Tess understands why he’d turn to drinking, but how could their issues ever compare?

She recalls the promise she made to Kam and Bree, to herself, to Paige before she boarded the plane. She gave Paige her word that she wouldn’t do this alone, so she sinks into her pillows and confesses. “The ice cubes distract me from, you know, wanting to drink. Feels like it kills the urge a little bit – I don’t know. It’s probably fucking up my teeth, but better those than my brain and my liver, right?” She tries to mask the discomfort with a laugh, but it sounds dry coming out of her mouth.

Paige’s eyes soften. “Whatever works, right?” she says. “As long as you ain’t replacin’ it with like, chain smoking?”

Tess rolls her eyes, appreciative of the sentiment, but also Paige’s humorous approach as it takes some of the pressure off. “No chain smoking here,” she vows.

The blonde is silent for a moment. “When’d they start?” she prods. “The urges. If you wanna talk about it.”

Tess contemplates her words for a moment. Paige has given her an out, but at this point, she’s not sure if she wants to use it. “Thursday night. Couldn’t sleep at all. I wanted to drink so bad. So I stayed up, ate ice, and watched TV. I was honestly in the trenches but you know…that happens when you drink for a month straight and then suddenly stop.” When she glances down at her phone screen, Paige’s eyes are laser-focused on her, absorbing every word. Tess cracks a small smile. “My first therapy appointment is on Monday, so I’ll see what my therapist suggests. I’m pretty sure the urges will be here to stay for a couple weeks. Sounds more like a fact of life than anything else, I guess, but if push comes to shove, I’ll get Kam to tie me to the bed so I can’t run away.” Paige smirks and Tess rolls her eyes. “Chill!”

“I wasn’t even gonna say nothin’!” Paige exclaims. Tess shakes her eyes, though she can’t keep the smile off her face. “For what it’s worth, ‘m proud of you for, you know…thuggin’ it out.”

Tess grins. “‘Thugging it out?’” she asks in disbelief.

“I’m being genuine,” Paige says with an eye roll. “I’on know what you’re going through besides the knee. I understand that it’s not easy, though. Everyone thinks I’m like, your knight in shining armor or some bullshit, but you don't need me. Yeah, you got me and I’m here to support you, no matter what. But I’m not saving you or anything. You’re doing that yourself. And I think that’s really cool.”

Tess chuckles, trying to ignore just how touching Paige’s words were. “Don’t get sentimental on me now.” She wipes the tear beading at her waterline, and when she glances down, Paige is smiling at her.

“Alright,” she concedes. “I won’t say anything nice ever again.”

“You?” Tess mocks. “Saying nice things?”

“Fuck off,” Paige says. Her words lack heat and her smile brightens. She runs a hand across her jaw, as if deep in thought. “So, about the airport.” Tess raises a brow in what she hopes is nonchalance, trying to keep her nerves at bay. She’s been trying to push it deep into the recesses of her mind, but it’s clear Paige has other plans. “Was it…okay? Like I didn’t make you uncomfortable or nothin’?”

“Paige,” Tess deadpans, smile widening in amusement, but it does little to hide the flush on her cheeks. “It was a hug.”

Paige scratches the back of her neck. “I mean…it – nevermind, forget it,” she says, her voice trailing off.

“It what?”

Paige shakes her head, pushing her glasses further up her nose. “Nothing, don’t worry,” she says, flashing an easy grin, but something in her expression betrays her image of comfort. “Just checking in with you, s’all. Wanna make sure we’re selling the story, yeah?”

Right. The story. Reminding herself that this was all fake is somehow the only thing on Tess’s mind, but she still manages to forget about it at the worst moments. Trying to mask the foreign feeling burning a hole in her gut, she hums. “I think we’re doing a good job. Have you seen those articles on Bleacher Report?”

Paige nods, the tension on her face dissolving. “A couple, yeah.” Her smile turns smug. “D’you actually look sad when I boarded?”

Tess throws her head back with a heavy sigh. “Paige–”

“C’mon, you don’t gotta hide it,” she says teasingly. “Coulda chased me, begged me to stay, all that cheesy romcom shit.”

“Chase you?” Tess guffaws. “First of all, with whose knee?” Paige snorts, tilting her head as if to say, touche. “Second of all, I don’t chase. I have too much self-respect for that.”

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a laugh bubbling in her throat.

Tess narrows her eyes. “I’m hanging up on you.”

“You won’t.” Tess raises a brow, pressing the red end call button. The silence hardly lasts three seconds before Paige is calling back. Tess answers with a shit-eating grin. “Don’t do that shit to me again,” Paige says, indignant.

“Who’s chasing now?” Tess asks smugly.

Paige rubs the back of her neck again, having the decency to look caught, but she smiles at Tess regardless. “I’mma let you go take a nap,” she declares. “Let you sleep off this attitude.” Tess shakes her head, but her smile turns fond. “Call me after your appointment tomorrow, okay? Lemme know how it goes…if you feel up to it.”

Tess’s face softens. “Sure.” Tess bites her lip in contemplation. Before she has the chance to chicken out, she clears her throat. “Um, I just wanted to say thank you. For….” Tess’s voice trails off, unable to put to words how much Paige’s support has kept her sane for the past few days.

The lighting in Paige’s room is dim, but Tess can distinctly see the way her smile reaches her eyes, the way she understands what Tess is trying to say. “No need to thank me,” Paige says. “Just focus on getting better.”

Tess flashes one last quiet smile. “I will.” With a final farewell, the line clicks dead, and Tess leans back on her bed, releasing a long sigh.

Fuck.

MAY 8, 2023

Sunday passes by in a blur and Tess finds herself awake at 6am Monday morning. Sunday was chill – with nothing better to do, she spent the day (to no one’s surprise) binging more TV and working through some of Craig’s recommended independent PT exercises. She even treated herself to a solid hour outdoors, which, as popular opinion suggests, actually does wonders for your mental health.

She tries her best to ignore the intrusive thoughts at the back of her mind, urging her to go back on her promises. They become less and less appealing as the hours tick by. Sleep slowly becomes easier, though she’s unsure if she should attribute it to finally taking care of her leg or losing the fog that used to cloud her brain.

Just a week ago, Tess was rolling into bed at dawn, well past drunk and in body shuddering pain. Now, she’s on her sixth day of sobriety and genuine rehabbing, and she holds a different kind of hope for the future that she’d never felt before. There’s a small part of her that’s terrified to feel too positive about the days ahead of her considering it’s hardly been a full week, but she can’t help but feel like things are finally shaping up. And at this point, the only thing standing between her and that positive future she can’t stop thinking about is literally her.

Deciding to put a little extra effort in on Monday morning, she forgoes her usual sweatpants and opts for leggings. Between her brace and her knee, she wasn’t quite ready for jeans, but she figured leggings were at least a step up. Tess fully commits to her skin care, fixes her hair in a simple half-up half-down style, and even sends a sweet ‘good morning’ text to the team group chat – although Tessa, her almost-name twin, immediately responds and tells her to ‘take her ass back to bed.’ Tess sends the middle finger emoji and decides they are never seeing her be kind again.

She eats breakfast with Kamilla and Bree, who wish her luck for PT and her first therapy appointment. When she checks her phone for the time, she finds a couple of messages from Paige, which immediately warms her chest.

Morning Tess 🫶 Sent you a lil gift for PT It’s prolly outside your door Be nice to Craig and your therapist

Confused, although she feels inexplicably touched, she slides on her shoes, grabs her crutches, and with a final goodbye to Kam and Bree, exits their apartment. She’s careful when opening and closing the door so she doesn’t damage whatever Paige has sent. A grin slowly spreads across her face when she sees that it’s a cup of coffee tucked into a Starbucks bag. She snags a quick picture of it before carefully leaning down to pick it up. She sends the photo to Paige, leaning against the wall.

so this is actually insane

Just looking out for the people who gotta deal with you No more cranky Tess

did you order yourself something too since you’re ‘dealing with me’

Yeah lol

The selfie comes quickly – a photo of Paige with her lips wrapped around a straw in a coffee cup. She’s throwing up a peace sign for the camera and her face has an obviously smug expression. Tess can’t help the slight flush she feels, so she opts for reacting to the photo with a thumbs-down emoji.

have i mentioned how insane you are

You could start by saying “Thanks for the coffee” or something like that Wait you can post it on your story I didn’t even think about that

i feel like this was your plan all along

It wasn’t Swear I did it out of the kindness of my heart

somehow you just made it even more unbelievable

Believe what you want I got you coffee Post it on your story, be nice to people, and call me later

so bossy

Learned from the best Talk to you soon 🤩

Tess rolls her eyes, but she can’t keep the stupid ass grin off of her face as she swaps over to Instagram and shares the picture to her story. She ponders the caption for an embarrassing amount of time before writing, ‘845 miles away but still sending shit to my door.’ She hits post and slides her phone back into her pocket before walking to the trainer’s office for her PT.

When she arrives, Craig greets her warmly and they get right into it. He takes her brace off and unwraps her knee. Then, he leads her through some of their typical knee exercises, pausing in between for a cooldown where she ices her knee as he explains what their new recovery timeline should look like. As long as she does what she needs to, she likely won’t need her crutches anymore after two and a half more weeks of good behavior. In a couple months, her PT will change course entirely. They’ll begin introducing hydrotherapy and strength building exercises. For the past few days, she’s been working on the range of motion ones, so she’ll end up alternating and mixing the two somewhere down the line. Come February, she should be cleared for full contact practice. If all goes well by March, she should be able to play in full just in time for the last few days of the tournament season.

PT wraps up and Craig rewraps her knee, tightening her brace around it and sending her off with a kind smile and words of encouragement for her therapy session. Given that the university’s counseling center was across campus and Tess was not fucking with that walk, Amaya made arrangements for the psychologist to meet Tess in the athletic facility since she’d be there already for PT. She checks her phone for the room number that Amaya sent her (dutifully ignoring the Instagram notification reading ‘Paige liked your story!’) and makes her way down the hall to the office room.

Tess opens the door to find a shorter woman shuffling papers around on a desk. She looks up as the basketball player walks in, immediately flashing a beaming smile and sticking her hand out for Tess to shake. “Hey! You must be Tess.”

Tess shifts her weight, shaking her hand and returning a quiet smile. The psychologist has wavy, chestnut brown hair and kind brown eyes that have been softened by the passage of time. The crow’s feet and laugh lines on her face provide Tess with a sense of security, reminding her of a distant aunt who used to liven up the room. “Guilty as charged.”

“I’m Dr. Flanigan, but Yvette is just fine. Please, have a seat.” Tess pulls out the chair, slowly lowering herself into it, cautious of her knee. Yvette motions to the adjacent chair. “Would you want to prop your leg up? It might be more comfortable for you that way.”

Tess hesitates, but the comforting expression on Yvette’s face has her worries washing away. “Sure, please,” she says, and the older woman nods as she adjusts the chair and helps lift Tess’s leg to the elevated position. Almost instantly, some of the tension leaves her body and Tess sighs in relief.

“Perfect,” Yvette says, mostly to herself. She takes a seat in her own chair and begins looking through a couple of papers. “So, I see you’ve had quite the month.” Her words aren’t judgmental, just humorous, and Tess can’t help her snicker.

“Something like that,” she agrees.

“But you’re here now,” Yvette muses, sliding a pair of glasses onto the bridge of her nose. “That’s the hard part, isn’t it? Opening yourself up to receive help, putting aside your pride for long enough to realize you need help. I’m proud that you’re taking these steps.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice,” Tess jokes.

“You did,” Yvette says gently. Her eyes sparkle. “Your team gave you an ultimatum, but you could have said no, right? But here you are. It’s early, but you’ve already made so much progress in terms of rehabilitation. Can you share what your mental state has been like since Wednesday?”

Tess pauses to think about her words. Yvette doesn’t push her. Tess releases a breath of air, shifting, before responding. “I’ve been kinda all over the place, I guess. I mean, it was a complete 180 – I showed up to the meeting hungover and by the end of the day, I’d done PT, cried a couple of times, but like, my mind was also clearer… in a way? When I was doing what I was doing, sure, I was conscious of my own destruction, but sitting in front of a bunch of other people and having them tell you that you’re destroying yourself was different. It put things into perspective. Then…around Thursday night, the urge to drink started hitting, so I spent the entire night eating ice cubes and losing my mind.” She glances at Yvette, whose head cocks. “Um, losing it figuratively. It was really hard but I don’t think I was actively crashing out.”

“Perhaps the feeling was more like a battle with yourself for control?” Yvette asks kindly.

Tess opens her mouth, puzzled, then closes it. Damn. Yvette is good at her job. “Exactly like that,” Tess admits. “My body wanted it, but I didn’t want it. I felt like I was being pulled in two different directions – the pull was so strong. I sat for hours convincing myself that I knew what my body needed and not the other way around.”

“That’s a huge part of understanding and processing alcohol dependence,” the psychologist says. “The mentality. Treatment doesn’t always require medication – one of the most common ‘treatments’ is cognitive behavioral therapy, which helps people change unhelpful thinking patterns and reactions. A popular approach is what we call the recognize-avoid-cope method. Recognize your triggers, whether external or internal; avoid tempting situations, and cope with the triggers you can’t avoid.

“So, our two types of triggers – external and internal,” Yvette continues, and Tess listens to her every word. “External refers to your environment. Perhaps a person, place, thing, or time of day. You said your urge manifested at night time?” Tess nods. “For people who drank mostly at night, night time could be an external trigger. Your body gets used to drinking at this certain time, right? Internal triggers can be tricky. Many people struggle with identifying where they come from because they appear to come out of nowhere. However, these triggers can be set off by fleeting thoughts, responses to feelings. I believe in your case, an internal trigger could be a pain response from your knee, yes?”

Tess flushes. “I feel like you’re in my head,” she admits, drawing a laugh from Yvette. Some of the tension diffuses.

“Now that we know what to look for when we face that urge to drink, we can address it appropriately,” Yvette says. “It’s difficult to avoid internal triggers, so we just have to cope with them. Avoiding external triggers are more obvious. You may benefit from avoiding a bar or the liquor section in the grocery store, but you can’t avoid night time. This is where coping comes in. For you, chewing ice cubes was an effective distraction – perhaps one your dentist won’t agree with –” Tess chuckles, “– but it’s that idea that we want to work with. I struggled with alcohol dependence when I was your age. Meditation and yoga helped me out a lot, although those may not work for you considering your knee injury. The good thing is there’s a lot of healthy alternatives. Work on a hobby, talk to someone, take a hot shower – if it works for you and it’s not harmful, then it’s a good method! Remember, it’s all mental – if you feel the urge, challenge it. Find the error in your thinking and replace it. Remind yourself why you’re making this change to not drink. Ride it out. Urges are normal, but they’re temporary; they will pass.”

Yvette’s words leave Tess in a contemplative silence. Tess doesn’t think this first session was supposed to be anything revolutionary – Yvette literally just told her something she could have figured out from a Google search, but the psychologist's words just hit a little different. It’s similar to how she knew she was hurting herself after her injury but hearing it from Amaya, Diana, and Coach Staley rerouted the wiring in her brain.

Yvette gazes at her, calculating, before offering a small smile, like she understands that her words have hit home. She shuffles around her papers again. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to discuss your mental health history and your anxiety medication?”

That, Tess could answer without feeling like her world is going to flip upside down. She and Yvette discuss lighter topics for the remainder of their session, such as how long she’s been taking lexapro regularly, what it was like when she fell off schedule before and after her surgery, and previous psychiatric history. Yvette suggests other coping mechanisms for regulating her anxiety. Prior to the injury, Tess’s main source of relief was basketball; now, she has to figure out what else she could do with her life that doesn’t include sports.

Feeling as though a weight is lifted off her shoulders, Tess thanks Yvette for her time. Yvette sends her off with another gentle smile – and on her walk back to her apartment, Tess can’t help but feel like she’s on the right track.

Tess calls Paige later that day after she’s finally settled into bed. After some light stretches, she presses an ice pack to her knee as she waits for Paige to pick up her call. She doesn’t wait too long before the line clicks through and Paige’s face fills her screen. The blonde is laying in bed, her hair in a bun, presumably, but Tess’s eyes catch on the headset she wears and the familiar frame of glasses. She can see the reflection of the TV through her lenses and Tess raises a brow. “Bad time?” she asks, thinking Paige may be occupied.

“Nah, ‘course not,” she says. “Gimme a sec – I’ll hide in a bush.”

Tess laughs, hearing the slight clicking of a controller before Paige turns her attention to her fully. Tess didn’t grow up with siblings, but she did have many cousins with whom she was very close with – if there was one thing she learned, they rarely paused or stopped playing their games unless it was an emergency or their mother was yelling. “What are you playing?”

“Fortnite,” Paige admits shamelessly.

“So, she flirts like a twelve-year-old and plays games meant for one,” Tess muses.

Paige rolls her eyes. “Shut up, it’s fun. You play?”

“Nope,” Tess says. “Never got the appeal.”

“Dude,” the blonde says in near disbelief. “I got to put you on. Wait, do you even have a PS5?”

“Do you think I do?” she asks. “I’ve done literally nothing but basketball for almost fifteen years.”

“Gotta fix that,” Paige sighs. “Buy one and hop on Fortnite with me. Boom, new hobby and I get a duo.” The blonde grins at her through the screen, excited at the prospect, and Tess finds herself more accepting of the thought the more she thinks about it. Tess opens Amazon, scrolling through the console options and accessories, and Paige notes her sudden silence. “Wait, are you actually gonna get one?”

Tess shrugs a shoulder, smiling slightly. “I mean, might as well, right? I do need a new hobby and I don’t have a lot of options.” She adds the console to her cart as well as a controller, not giving it a second thought before she’s checking out. “Should be here tomorrow.”

Paige pumps her arm in the air, cheering. Tess can’t help but grin at her excitement. “You won’t regret this. Trust. We’re gonna run Fortnite like the navy.” Tess rolls her eyes good-naturedly as Paige adjusts her phone, flashing another smile. “So, what’s up with you? How was PT and therapy?”

Tess hums. “PT was the same as always. Still a little early to tell, but Craig says if everything goes according to plan, I should hopefully be back in time for the last month of games. Thinking about playing again is literally the only thing keeping my head on straight, so I just have to get my shit together for, what, ten or eleven more months? Easy peasy.”

“You’ll be back on the court before you know it,” Paige says confidently. “Do what you gotta do, but don’t lie just so you can play earlier. Don’t fuck yourself up.”

“Careful, Paige – keep saying nice things and I’ll think you care about me.”

“In your dreams,” the blonde says with a smirk. “Just want you at 100% when we play y’all in March Madness. I won’t have as much fun if I gotta drop 30 on Kamilla instead of you.”

Tess rolls her eyes. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Sharks.”

“Shit.”

“Sharks!”

“Sharks – god dammit.”

Paige grins gleefully as they both dissolve into fits of laughter. As she calms, she can’t help but stare at Paige, at the way her face scrunches and the unfiltered joy that permeates her expression. Tess hates how she softens ever so slightly, how any conversation with Paige is enough to collapse the walls she spent so long building. Tess has always been a little caustic, perhaps blunt to a fault, too sarcastic and so uncomfortable in showing affection. But there’s something about Paige that rounds out those edges. She feels like she can be honest; although vulnerability is still a difficult task, she finds that stomaching the thought is a little easier when Paige smiles at her. “So, therapy?” the blonde repeats, her tone light but not pushing her.

Her words drag Tess out of her thoughts. She shakes her head, as if trying to break the thoughts apart. “It was…informative.”

“Yeah?” Paige asks, interested. When Tess looks back at her screen, she can see the slight furrow in Paige’s brow, the look of concentration. Tess averts her eyes, feeling her face burn.

She hums, gathering her thoughts. “Basically, I just have to rethink my approach to drinking. Like, recognizing triggers and either just avoiding or coping with them. I do think I have to find something other than the ice. I bit into a chunk weird earlier and almost cried cause I thought I broke my tooth.” Paige snorts. “Not funny.” She raises her hands, grinning, and Tess sighs. “Being emotionally vulnerable is exhausting. I wish I could go play basketball and ignore most of my feelings.”

“Well, not to mansplain, but–”

“I know, I can’t actually avoid them,” Tess grumbles. Paige laughs again, and the sound is infectious enough that Tess can’t help but smile. “It’s barely been a week but I feel like…okay again. Is that a weird thing to say?”

“Nah, I get it,” Paige says. “You will be okay, though. You just need to believe it.”

Tess nods, leaning back in her bed and picking mindlessly at a loose thread on her blanket. “I think I do. Like, it doesn’t feel like the end anymore. I know that I need to put in a lot of work, but at this point, it’s a new opportunity to compete, but against myself, right? I can do that.”

“You can,” Paige affirms. “And you will.” She speaks so casually, as if Tess’s recovery is something that is already gone and past. Like it’s more truth than manifestation. When Tess smiles, Paige adds in a softer voice, “I know you can.”

“...Thanks, Paige,” is all Tess can muster. She tries not to think about it too much – Paige is so close to being fully healed from her own ACL tear. She, more than anyone else in Tess’s life currently, knows what that process is like, how the mental anguish affects you, how debilitating the pain is most days. Paige knows what it’s like to survive that. The sheer confidence, the belief that Tess can survive it means more to her than Paige will probably ever know. “Your turn, though. How’s, uh, Storrs?”

Paige shoots her a scandalized look. “You say that like Columbia is any cooler.”

Tess laughs. “Well, it’s no Brooklyn – but you know damn well that UConn is the only reason why Storrs has any relevance.”

“I’m startin’ to wonder if there’s anything you like about me,” Paige grumbles.

“I like it when you’re quiet,” Tess says.

“You called me!”

“I like it when you say the sweetest things,” Tess continues, purposefully ignoring Paige. “Like when you say I’m full of sharks or when you said we were star-crossed lovers because Caitlin broke my ankles.”

Paige huffs, trying – and failing – to hide the frown on her face. “You should not be talking about other women when you’re on the phone with your girlfriend. That’s like, relationship rule number one.”

Tess stares at her before erupting into laughter despite the warm, foreign feeling in her stomach. “Are you jealous?”

Paige rolls her eyes, but she angles her phone so Tess can’t see the flush creeping up her neck. “Chill. I’m jus’ saying – wait until that lady from Bleacher Report hears that you’re steppin’ out on me.”

Tess can’t hide her amusement. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Paige seems to forget about her earlier words as she grins proudly. “Been told a time or two,” she chirps.

The South Carolinian guard shakes her head fondly. “Okay, for real. What’s new with you?”

Paige shrugs. “Nothing much, but me and the team’s getting together later tonight ‘cause everyone’s heading home for the summer at some point this week. I’m flying back to Minnesota Thursday morning. You goin’ home, or…?”

“Haven’t thought about it much, honestly,” Tess admits. “My mom called on Sunday and asked if I was, but I’m nervous about flying with the knee and I’d feel bad having my parents drive down twelve hours just to pick me up. I could easily do Zoom or some shit with my therapist, but I feel like I really need good and consistent PT, so I’m not sure if I’d want to leave Craig.”

Paige raises a brow. “You live in Brooklyn, right? That’s where the Liberty is. I saw Sabrina in your comments – you could see if she could get you in touch with their physio.”

Tess laughs, mostly out of shock and because of the absurdity of the offer. “Do you really think I could cold call Sabrina Ionescu and be like, ‘hey, my knee’s fucked, I was wondering if you could see if your team physio would be willing to take over my rehab while I’m home?’”

“Uh, yeah?” Paige says like it’s obvious, her face contorting in confusion. “Have you not been online? Anytime Sabrina’s asked about college athletes or the future of the W, she’s always gassing you up. She might be in love with you, lowkey.”

“You better not be bullshitting me,” Tess says, opening her browser and Googling as Paige huffs dramatically. “You think she’d leave her man for me?”

“Rule number two, Tess Alessandra,” Paige reminds her. “No seeing other people on the DL. And you thought I couldn’t handle it.”

Hundreds of articles appear on her screen. Tess feels something tighten in her chest, even as she jokingly retorts, “It’s Sabrina Ionescu – I couldn’t pass that up.” She opens the first article, eyes scanning the headline as it reads, “Sabrina Ionescu On Tess Kennedy: ‘The Perfect NCAA Shooting Guard.’” Tess’s eyes nearly bulge out of her head, her shock only growing the more she reads.

“D’you seriously not know?” Paige asks curiously.

“No,” Tess answers, and it was the truth. “I stay far away from most basketball reporting and social media. Draft discussions always make me nervous and people always look for a story where there isn’t one. I’m here to hoop, not for someone to debate whether or not I’m the second coming of basketball Jesus.” She reads more, feeling both pleasantly surprised but also touched by how many kind things Sabrina Ionescu had to say about her – it was one thing for her to reach out after her ACL tear, but it’s incredibly flattering to know that she’s had someone like Sabrina in her corner all this time and she never knew it. “Do you really think they could do that?” Tess asks again, referring to their physio situation. “Like, they’re in preseason right now. I feel like their physio needs to focus on making sure their team doesn’t tear their ACLs.”

She watches Paige shrug through the screen, a tender sort of smile on her face. “Doesn’t hurt to ask, right? Plus, I got Husky connections – I can get Stewie to put in a good word.”

“You need to chill, I’m being so for real right now,” Tess says, narrowing her eyes. “You do not need to talk to Stewie for me.”

Paige is quiet for a moment, as if fully grasping what Tess is saying. “I won’t if you don’t really want me to,” she says after a lot of contemplation. “Don’t wanna fight your battles for you, but you know…if I can help, just lemme know.”

“I appreciate that,” Tess says, her voice a lot softer. “I’ll think about it.”

The blonde grins again. “No pressure.”

“So, excited to see your family?”

Paige leans back against her headboard, her grin turning fond. “You have no idea. I feel like Drew grows so much while I’m gone. He’s my little brother. Or was. He’s like a medium brother now.”

Tess can’t help but laugh at Paige’s words. “Yeah? Was he the one who put you on Fortnite?” she teases.

“You act like I can’t make choices for myself,” Paige says indignantly. “I actually put him on.”

“You see how that’s like, worse, right?”

Paige glares at her dramatically, but Tess can easily see the amused smile on her face. “You’re a D1 hater. It’s insane.”

“Been told a time or two,” she says, mirroring Paige’s earlier words, and they both dissolve into fits of laughter. “Do you–”

She’s cut off by the sound of a knock at Paige’s door. The blonde pulls off one airpod, turning to look at whoever’s walking in. “Hey, Lili and I are going to the store to pick up some stuff for tonight – you wanna come?” Tess is unable to place the voice, which doesn’t surprise her, but she watches the hesitation flash across Paige’s face. “Ohhh, are you on the phone with your lady friend?”

“Lady friend is crazy work,” Paige grumbles, which causes Tess to laugh. Paige glances at her screen again, as if studying Tess’s face for a reaction.

“Go hang out with your friends,” she tells her, knowing Paige is the only one who can hear. “Don’t let them think I’m the obsessive girlfriend who doesn’t let you hang out with other people.”

“If the shoe fits,” the blonde teases. Tess rolls her eyes at Paige’s smirk and she feels something simultaneously soften and break apart inside of her. That’s an issue to face another day. “I’ll text you later, okay? Make good choices.”

“Always,” Tess says innocently. Paige’s smirk melts into something more tender before she bids Tess one last goodbye and ends the FaceTime call. Tess exhales, staring at her phone screen, where her and Paige’s earlier text conversation remains. It all feels a little fast, but she can’t deny that she feels so incredibly comfortable with Paige. Sure, she and Paige bicker a lot, but she knows it’s all in good fun and she enjoys their banter and how Paige keeps her guessing. It’s the same way she is on the basketball court, but Tess recognizes something different in their little game: Paige’s slight acquiesce, the natural pauses in any of their conversations where Paige seems like she’s seeing Tess in a different way, understanding her in a way that’s beyond surface level.

It’s a double edged sword. Being known is terrifying. From a basketball perspective, the understanding that comes with knowing your opponent’s every move manifests in quick interceptions, knowing how to guard them on their favorite wing. On a personal level, being known opens you up to those same vulnerabilities. By now, she knows Paige better than that and she trusts that Paige wouldn't go out of her way to hurt her, but it’s hard to escape the thought that by letting Paige into her life and under her skin, she’s effectively arming her with her insecurities and shortcomings.

But at the same time, she’s letting Paige in, and it’s new and scary because nobody outside of Kamilla has ever wanted to look further. Tess has probably curated that issue herself — she keeps her teammates close enough that they’re privy to only 75% of her; that last 25%, each and every ugly thought or feeling or trait she’s ever had is kept so far away from them and Tess herself. Now, between her knee, her therapy and PT, and the whole situation of having to be Paige’s fake girlfriend, she’s suddenly faced with having to show someone a lot more than 75%. And it’s fucking frightening because Paige is getting to know Tess at her worst; although she doesn’t exactly have the option to run, she’s trying to be closer to Tess despite it all. Tess has spent so much of her life being afraid of the day the mirror would shatter and she would have to face the parts of herself she didn’t like. Knowing that she’s still here now, learning to love the girl in between the fractures, and that Paige has a heart big enough to not be offended by the scrapes and the nicks and the lacerations that come with handling something sharp and broken, fills her with an amalgamation of feelings. She’s hopeful, but she’s fearful and hesitant; she’s confused but so incredibly grateful.

So, she takes Paige’s advice and reaches out to Sabrina on Instagram. Tess isn’t alone in this. Between her teammates, her friends, her trainers and coaches and mentors, and now the women in the league, there’s so many people in her life that want to help her succeed if only they’d let her. Sabrina’s response comes 15 minutes later — she’d actually been in the trainer’s office getting her wrist checked out when she got her text. Sabrina said their head athletic trainer, Theresa, would be more than happy to take over her her PT while she’s back in Brooklyn, but obviously they would have to work around the Liberty’s game schedule. They would still be able to upkeep Tess’s three times a week requirement, and honestly, that was good enough for her.

Sabrina’s next message came in after Tess said her thank-you’s, reading:

No problem at all! Super proud of your progress and I can’t wait to see you on the court again. Let me know whenever you’re cleared, I would love to shoot around with you sometime

She decides she’d text Paige later, maybe let her know she was right if she felt like listening to her endless gloating. But she smiles as she texts her mom, telling her that she’s got another trainer lined up if she and her dad would be able to make the drive down to South Carolina.

We’ll be there about noon tomorrow to pick you up, piccola, no drive is too far

Then, feeling both hopeful and excited, she texts Amaya to let her know she’s going home for the summer but that she’ll maintain her PT and therapy sessions, to which Amaya responds with a simple thumbs up emoji that makes Tess immediately regret her thoughtful message. She lets Kamilla and Bree know she’s going and they remind her they’re both a call away if she needs anything. Tess packs most of her things before settling back into bed to relax.

She texts Paige later that night, shortly after midnight when she should have been well in bed, but she was struggling to sleep. Her thoughts were racing, but they were more positive than anything. She was excited to see her parents; she hadn’t really talked to them since her surgery. They had a lot to catch up on. She was anticipating the arrival of her Playstation, feeling unnaturally stoked to play Fortnite of all things, though a smaller part of her that she was slowly coming around to knew she just enjoyed her time with Paige, anyway. Unable to sleep, she writes:

you can say i told you so now the liberty’s trainer will take over my PT

I told you so Does this mean you won’t be gaming with me?

ill see if i can fit you into my schedule me and sabrina are super tight now 🤞

Don’t play with me.

don’t worry paigey you’re still my one and only

Better be Have a safe drive tomorrow 🫶

Tess sends back a single heart emoji, putting her phone on its charger and staring up at the ceiling. After a beat, a slow smile spreads across her face, and she can't help but think that she's making the right decision by letting Paige in.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers x oc #uconn #wbb x reader #uconn wbb

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inkspiredwriting · 3 months ago

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A Lifetime and even longer

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: I had the idea for this story because I thought of my grandparents. My grandparents knew each other as children and then became a couple when they were teenagers. When my grandma died, my grandpa died a week later. And somehow I thought it would be the same with Five and his wife.

Warnings: Angst, Death

In the golden hues of a fading afternoon, the garden was bathed in warm sunlight. The gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers and the soft rustle of leaves, whispering through the old trees that had witnessed years of life, laughter, and memories. It was a peaceful, almost timeless setting—an oasis where Five and Y/n sat together, side by side, their hands entwined as they rested on a large lounger beneath the shade of a towering oak tree.

Five's once sharp, piercing green eyes had softened with age, his silver hair still cropped close, but with deep lines now etched into his face—a testament to the battles fought, the worlds saved, and the years that had passed. Y/n, beside him, looked as graceful and gentle as ever, her own hair now streaked with silver, her smile still as warm as the first day they met. Her hand rested lightly on Five’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall as they both took in the tranquil scene before them.

Their world had grown quieter in recent years. All of Five’s siblings were gone now—save for Klaus, who could never truly leave this world. Klaus stood a little ways off, watching them, his eyes a mixture of sadness and acceptance. He had made peace with his eternal life, even if it meant being the last of his family left to witness their passing. He could always see them, his brothers and sister, as ghosts lingering in the edges of his vision, but today, it was Five and Y/n who held his attention.

“Klaus is here,” Y/n said softly, her voice like the wind, barely a whisper. “He’s watching over us.”

Five nodded, his grip on her hand tightening ever so slightly. “He always was the one to stay behind, wasn’t he?”

Y/n smiled gently. “Always the one with the most heart. He never lets us go.”

They sat there in comfortable silence for a long moment, the weight of their shared life resting between them. Their children had long since grown up and moved away to start families of their own. Maddie and Milo, the lights of their lives, had visited not too long ago, saying their goodbyes, knowing that this chapter was coming to a close. But right now, it was just the two of them—the way it had always been, ever since that day Five first realized he loved her.

“I’ve had a good life,” Five murmured, his voice soft but steady. “No regrets. Not with you by my side.”

Y/n leaned her head on his shoulder, her voice filled with quiet emotion. “I’ve never been so happy, Five. I didn’t think, after everything, that I’d get this. But you—” she squeezed his hand gently—“you gave me the life I never even knew I wanted.”

Five turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. His voice broke just a little when he spoke. “I never deserved you, but I’m glad you found me anyway.”

Y/n smiled, tears welling up in her eyes. “You deserved everything, Five. You’ve saved the world countless times. You saved me.”

They sat there in the garden, wrapped in love and the kind of peace that only comes from a lifetime spent together. The sky above them began to shift from golden to soft pinks and purples, the sun dipping lower on the horizon. Klaus, watching them from afar, shifted uneasily. He could feel it—the weight of what was coming. His heart ached, knowing that this was their last sunset together, and he wished, just for a moment, that he didn’t have to witness it. But then again, he knew it was his place to be here. To bear witness. To say goodbye.

Y/n turned to look at Five, her eyes filled with love that seemed to stretch back through the years. “Do you remember the first time we met?” she asked softly.

Five chuckled, his voice rasping with age. “How could I forget? You were a disaster.”

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. “And you were so grumpy. I didn’t think you’d ever like me.”

“I didn’t,” Five replied, though the corners of his lips twitched into a small smile. “But then you grew on me. I had no choice.”

“You had every choice,” Y/n whispered, her voice trembling with affection. “And I’m so glad you chose me.”

Five turned his head to look at her, his heart swelling with emotion he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in so long. “I’d choose you a thousand times over, in every timeline.”

They fell silent again, their breaths steady and synchronized, their hands still clasped tightly. The warmth of the day began to fade, but neither of them felt it. There was only the steady beat of their hearts, the memories of their life together, and the knowledge that they had loved fiercely, truly.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Y/n’s breathing began to slow. Five, his own heart faltering, squeezed her hand one last time. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“I love you too,” Y/n replied, her voice soft as a lullaby.

And then, together, they closed their eyes, their breaths growing shallow. Five’s arms wrapped protectively around his wife as the world grew still.

Klaus, standing at a respectful distance, felt the shift before he saw it. He sighed deeply, wiping at his eyes as he approached the lounger. His heart clenched in sorrow as he saw them lying there, side by side, holding each other in death just as they had in life.

With a sad smile, Klaus knelt beside them, murmuring softly. “Rest easy, brother. You earned this.”

As he stood, the air around him shimmered slightly, and suddenly, he wasn’t alone. He turned and saw them—his family. His brothers and sisters, all of them standing there, their ghostly forms bathed in soft light. Luther, Allison, Diego, Viktor, Ben… all of them were there, watching over Five and Y/n. And standing beside them now, were Five and Y/n too, their forms glowing gently in the dim light.

Klaus smiled, tears in his eyes, as he saw the look of peace on their faces. His family, whole again, even in death. "Well," he said with a sniff, "I guess we’re all together now."

Five and Y/n, their hands still clasped even as spirits, looked at Klaus with quiet smiles. And though Klaus knew the pain of eternal life would never leave him, in that moment, surrounded by the ones he loved, he didn’t feel so alone anymore.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot #five hargreeves

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thesunloveschips · 1 year ago

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Eye of the Storm - Chapter 2: Mortals and Immortals

Summary: In the wake of Rhysand’s ascension as High Lord, the Bone Carver gifts a prophecy. More than five hundred years later, Azriel continues to wait for the one who is finally reborn as his High Lady’s sister. All it takes is a dip in the Cauldron for things to start falling into place.

Chapter Summary: Feyre returns to her sisters from the Spring Court with too many feelings. Rhys fights a losing battle with his family after returning. Feyre and Rhys navigate their emotions when the Archeron sisters become the topic of conversation.

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

****

Feyre felt like she was dying as she reached the new residence of the Archerons. A bit of her life leaving her body with every foggy breath. Tamlin had kept his word and provided for her family. A bit too lavishly, perhaps. The residence was a sprawling estate with lush lawns and well-maintained flowers Elain had undoubtedly involved herself in. Feyre had no sense of anything except for the flowers which reminded her of the Spring Court. Of Tamlin.

With Feyre now back, Nesta wanted answers. She had clearly seen the beast take her youngest sister away, citing some Treaty and something else that made no sense to her. Nyra would want answers too. Whatever stunt that the fae had pulled, whatever magic they had cast which resulted in Elain and their father having new memories of a non-existant aunt, Nesta needed answers about all of it.

Feyre was quick to flow away with her thoughts ever since she had returned. Elain was simply happy that her sister was back, safe and sound and was listening to her about her plans for the new flowers she had recently planted. Nesta was suspicious but she did not push much after Nyra's insistence.

The only time Feyre gave anyone her attention to the maximum was when the physician came for Nyra and recorded a very slow but thankfully steady improvement in her health. One thing wrong and the heavily-bellied man claimed it would threaten Nyra's life.

"Let her tell us herself." Nyra had said when Nesta's curiosity grew. "What if it is something she wishes not to recall?"

"Whatever it is, it has affected her. She hardly pays any attention during conversations and mindlessly agrees with everything asked of her. That ghastly shade of yellow does not suit her and yet, she agreed to it before the seamstress without so much as a glance at the fabric." Nesta did not like it when someone wore the wrong shade. It was something their mother had insisted and something she cared for since it was one of the few useful things the deceased woman had actually bothered to teach her.

"How long do we wait before we ask?" Nesta once asked Nyra and when her twin did not have an answer, the interrogative mood of the former awakened. She found Feyre and confronted her and that led to a long story.

Nesta and Nyra looked at Feyre when the youngest had concluded her story and then looked at each other. To be in love with a fae much less a High Lord was unthinkable. Even then, they knew that this sister was a reckless girl.

"And now what? You are here and not there. What is your fate?" Nyra asked. Feyre took her time comprehending the question but had no answer for it even after understanding it. It seemed to her that there were multiple gaps in her understanding. So many things had been hidden from her in Prythian. They had called Amarantha's curse a bloody blight.

The twins knew that Feyre probably did not belong in this world of mortals and maybe, she did belong in Prythian. Every word spoken about this fae named Tamlin was laced with a sort of affection they had never witnessed for any human.

A part of them hoped that Feyre would live with them in the safety and comfort of this estate. That she would lead a normal, mortal life. Another part of them knew that the connection between Feyre and Prythian had yet to be severed. And in pursuance of that connection which she believed was her love for Tamlin, a few days later, Feyre Archeron departed from the mortal lands with a final goodbye.

****

Amarantha was dead. Rhysand was back. A few days had passed and Azriel had noticed that something was still not right. Something other than the trauma from those forty nine years had been inflicted on his brother. Something that was probably his mate, the newborn fae. He wasn’t exactly discreet about it when he told Mor right after he returned. For the first few seconds, Azriel had hoped to all the spirits that Rhysand was not referring to Amarantha as his mate. But then, Mor had managed to somehow calm her cousin. And then, Rhys told them his story.

Azriel took it upon himself to study humans and fae and trace back records of any transitions as had been the case with the Cursebreaker. He had enlisted the help of the priestesses from the libraries of the House of Wind. Everything was hectic these days. Hunting down the traitors who had joined forces to rebel in the High Lord’s absence. Reviving his network of spies after decades of inactivity. Resuming trade and commerce and travel between courts and with the rest of the world. All of this was just the beginning. He was tired. Everyone was tired. And yet, everyone continued.

The Cursebreaker, he’d learned, was a female by the name of Feyre Archeron. A human who received a kernel of every High Lord’s power to be brought back to life. That itself brought the possibility of her inheriting powers. If she had indeed been successfully revived, then she could probably have a fragment at least.

“She rarely leaves the manor.” Azriel spoke. Cassian looked at him in confusion while Rhys barely looked up from the disturbing amount of paperwork. “Unhealthy and haunted by nightmares.”

Rhysand slammed the pen on the table. That was meant to be a warning but Azriel could care less. Rhys glared at him as though he was ready to rip him apart. “Call in your bargain. Tamlin is making things worse for her.”

To Azriel, this female, his brother’s mate had already become someone to be cared for. On the verge of becoming family. In his eyes, Rhys had to take her from her misery. And he had to push his brother to do that. What would life be worth if not for a mate? He was already waiting for the Bone Carver’s words to come true.

Cassian did not want to say much. He quietly watched as his brothers glare at each other. He knew why this conversation was taking place. He knew why Azriel was pushing Rhys to be there for Feyre. Because they would have done the same thing in case of Azriel and his mate. The mate who was Rhysand’s deceased sister. The mate who would be reborn.

“I will bring her when I deem fit.” Anyone could see how heartbroken Rhys was when he said those words. The beast within him raged at him to stake his claim over his mate. The more rational side of him preached respect. Something his mother had taught him.

“By the time you deem fit, what if it’s too late?” Azriel was quick to ask. The High Lord’s power rumbled before them and they weathered it like any other rainstorm.

“She’s surrounded by the rogue Vanserra and that mannerless priestess who once requested a visit.” The mention of the priestess was made with his own power rumbling. A shadowsinger was a truly mysterious creature. Cassian looked at Azriel in disgust at having even mentioned that female.

“And a High Lord who has no interest helping her settle into this new life.” Cassian spoke. Rhys met the General’s gaze. “This is not just any female, Rhys.”

“She’s the saviour of Prythian. I know.”

“She’s your mate.” Cassian emphasized on that word. “Anyone could have been the saviour of these damned lands. Only she can be your mate. She is family, you stupid piece of shit.”

In that moment, Rhys remembered what he felt back when Feyre had defeated the Wyrm. How he felt Cassian’s spirit manifesting nearby and shouting at him to marry this girl or he would do that himself. He let out a wry laugh. Azriel and Cassian looked at each other, wondering whether their brother had gone mad.

Rhysand stood up and started pacing behind his chair. He stopped and resumed pacing every now and then. “We knew about Azriel and my sister.” He knew he had to tread very very carefully with this. He might be the High Lord but the shadowsinger was not to be trifled with in any manner. He saw how Azriel had stoned his features at the mention of his mate. “So I assumed that we would witness your mating bond first when she was reborn.”

“It could be another century or even a millennia before we meet her again.” Cassian remarked, remembering the Bone Carver’s words.

“You should focus on your own mating bond right now.” Azriel added, not wanting to remember his mixed feelings for his mate.

“I know she’s upset and she has nightmares and she vomits all the food and that ignorant asshole does nothing to help her.” Rhysand took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure and failing miserably. The opening of the door had the three males looking in that direction. Morrigan walked in, ever the picture of power and beauty.

“What are we talking about?” Mor casually sat on the sofa, her legs on the seat with the silk of her dress dropping to the ground like a wisp of magic.

“The Cursebreaker.” Rhys answered. He would call her anything but his mate.

“Your mate.” Mor corrected. Cassian grinned at her and even Azriel breathed in relief at the growing support. “You made a bargain with her. Why haven’t you called it in?”

“None of your business.”

“She is family.” Mor spoke sharply and and her rage began quickly. She had recognised how her cousin was beginning to be somewhat of a stubborn child but this was not a matter which could be addressed with such immaturity. “And her health is our business.”

“You may identify her as family but I have no intention of claiming her.” Rhysand looked like he would vomit at his own words soon enough.

But the High Lord knew what his family felt for Feyre Archeron. They were undoubtedly grateful to her for reuniting them after forty nine years. They were grateful to her for saving Prythian because Cauldron knew how long they could have kept the Night Court afloat in his absence. And they did not even want to delve too long about other courts.

The mortal who was now fae.

The female who was his mate.

The female Rhysand was now in love with.

“You love her.” And that was the truth. Simple and clear. Azriel and Cassian looked at her in mild surprise. They hadn’t known that. And now that they did know that, Feyre Archeron was indeed a person of great concern. “We know you won’t claim her like she is property. She is not family not just because she is your mate. She is family because you love her.”

“Mating bonds are not fairytales. Couples don’t end well. You knew my parents.” Rhysand was not strong enough for this. He could not win this. Not when this was about Feyre. Sweet, beautiful Feyre with her human heart and powerful feelings.

“Your parents had a miserable union. The difference is that you love this girl. And we also have Azriel who waits for her.” Azriel closed his eyes, knowing that Mor would now continue this battle. That she would wield more powerful words for attack. The mention of his own mate was one of those weapons. Mor had just looked at the Spymaster once before he confirmed with a nod that it was okay to speak of his mate. “Your mating bond does not have to reflect what your parents had.”

“That’s it!” Cassian slammed his hands on the table. “You!�� He looked at Rhys, eyes focused into a glare before continuing, “are a fool.” Rhys opened his mouth to speak. “Everything you’ve spouted so far has been an excuse.”

“She’s marrying him.” Rhys sounded pained as opposed to the indifference he tried to put forward.

“Just because she’s marrying him doesn’t mean he’s worthy of her.” Azriel was grumbling at this point. None of them cared about Rhysand’s self loathing opinions. They cared about the girl who had no one to help her when she needed it. The girl who was his mate. The girl who was almost family. She was not a cruel person. She was the reason Rhysand was back after so long. And they had a feeling that she’d be good for him and that he’d be good for her. Azriel had suspected as much after his spies from the Spring Court had been planted and resumed activity.

Two days later, Rhys had scheduled a trip to Rita’s with Cassian only to winnow away without prior notice right before they had entered. The same night, Feyre Archeron had been brought to Velaris.

****

It took time before the Cursebreaker had started to warm up to the Inner Circle of the Night Court. One fine night as they lounge around after dinner for a night to drink, Feyre took a few sips.

In her curiosity, Morrigan asked. “How was life as a mortal?”

Feyre looked at Mor for a few seconds, trying to process the question. When she did, she opened her mouth and paused. She began by talking about her early childhood, the days of poverty and how her family was now rich. She had kept her story short, giving nothing more than a summary of her mortal life which couldn't have been more than a paragraph.

“So, you have sisters?” Cassian asked, curious about the people she shared her mortal life with.

“Three older sisters.” Feyre affirmed as she stared at her wineglass. The faint imprint of her lipgloss was there at the edge and she kept staring at it. She took a moment to remember each sister and smiled with such gentleness that made Rhysand a little jealous.

A little.

Just a little.

Not even noteworthy.

Very negligibly so.

An inconsequential bit of jealousy for a smile that was not directed at him.

Mor took extreme delight in seeing her cousin's face. She quietly motioned to Cassian. Azriel and Amren had already noted the change in Rhys's expression.

“And what were they doing when you went out to hunt?” Mor's question brought everyone back to the harsh reality that Feyre went out to hunt for her starving family as a child.

Feyre did not answer. She did not look at anyone. She kept her gaze at the rim of her wine glass where the stain of her lipgloss was from when she’d taken sips of the drink.

“Nesta was angry at a lot of things. Mostly at our father. And then, at me. We were always at each other’s throats. Elain is more of a gardener than a huntress. Nyra has been sick since we were children.” Everything was begining to sound like a poor defence for her sisters.

Mor had sobered up. Cassian and Azriel were quiet. Mostly because they knew that any wrong move or word from any of them and Rhys would rage. His mate had led a life of poverty and had thrown herself into the forest to hunt and free her family from starvation. Her family, incapable in different ways to help her. The youngest who had risked her life over and over again for them.

Rhysand was close to breaking his wine glass. One of those sisters was a gardener more than a huntress. A gardener than a huntress. What about Feyre? She was an artist more than a huntress. And had anger not consumed the other sister enough to do something about their situation? And a sick sister who could do nothing. A burden. All of them were burdens on Feyre. Why save a family like that?

Family was not always blood bound. He knew that. Rhys looked at Azriel, the prime example of someone who had family because he had chosen them and not because he was related to them. Azriel met his gaze, silently questioning him. Rhys shook his head despite the suddenly growing brotherly affection for the shadowsinger.

“Why save a family like that?” Amren finally asked, having spoken for the first time since dinner. Rhys turned to her in mild surprise for having voiced his thoughts.

“Because they are my family. My father who had lost all hope. Elain, who sees good in this world no matter how many ugly sides of it has been presented to her. Nesta, who kept me angry and made me want to fight against circumstances. Nyra, who guarded my heart against all odds.”

A traitorous tear traveled down her cheek. Feyre closed her eyes as another tear made its appearance. At the end of the day, she missed her family. And the Inner Circle could relate to that. They had missed each other for so long and they had just reunited only to be faced with the prospect of war which could ensure permanent separation in the form of death.

“Do you wish to visit your family?” Rhys finally asked. Everyone looked at him in mild surprise for various reasons. At the sight of her tears, the High Lord had softened. The cold fury within him had thawed and nothing but affection and the will to do something to make her happy remained. He took in each of their expressions before explaining himself. “You’re an immortal now, Feyre darling. Time moves slowly for us especially when compared to mortals. They are still human. Surely you must know what that means.”

It only meant that Feyre would live with this young and strong body while her family grew older and weaker and finally died. And Nyra. Mother knew if she would ever live a normal life. Whether her health would improve.

What if something did go wrong?

What if she could never see her again?

What if Nyra...

****

#a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #acofas #acomaf #acosf #acotar #acowar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel x original character #feyre archeron #elain archeron #nesta archeron #cassian #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel #feysand #nessian

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cherryblossombankai · 2 months ago

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Word Count: 1.1k Warnings: angst, seriously it's just angst, alcohol, mentions of anxiety and trauma, sort of implied toxic relationship, breakup, sad, depression, jealousy A/N: I'm so sorry for this :) Tag List: @pixelcafe-network, @actuallysaiyan, @helloiamadrawer, @satorustar, @sweet-chocolate-sweet

You knew deep down that breaking up had been for the best, or at least you’d believed Aizawa when he said it was for the best. Aizawa was still trying to overcome his trauma, and you're no walk in the park to live with either. Stubborn and moody on the best of days, paralyzed with anxiety on the worst of days. You knew it took him some patience at times to navigate life with you, but he wasn’t a walk in the park either. You thought you were each other’s person until he asked for space. You gave it in hopes he would eventually realize that he needs you.

It had helped you along the healing process when you believed he was as miserable as you. You took comfort in the image of him curled up in bed, mourning the scent of your perfume fading from the pillow. At the very least, it made you feel less pathetic for still sleeping in his shirt every night and refusing to wash it because he'd no longer be lingering in the stitches.

You were fine, truly. Most days you only cried a couple of times, and you hardly ever typed up a text you'd never send anymore. At least not when you're sober. The things you’d never sent while knee-deep in a bottle of wine, well that’s a different story. It ranged from “I miss you so bad” to “Why don’t you love me anymore?” but you never sent them, and that’s what matters.

"I'm on the path to healing. thank you very much,” you'd bragged to your friends over dinner. You meant it! Things were really starting to fall into place.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

All it took was one event to have your healing facade crashing down faster than you built it up. He didn't even like selfies, that's what he told you over and over. He would scoff and cover his face every time you tried to lean in to catch a snap of the two OF you together. More than once he went on a half-hearted rant about ‘living in the moment’ instead of stopping to photograph everything. You only have a handful of photos to prove that you didn't hallucinate a five-year relationship.

Yet there he is on your timeline, snuggled up to a pretty girl who called him ‘baby' in the caption. His arm is wrapped around her. He's leaning in...He's smiling.

Fuck, you love his smile. It was such a rare sight when he belonged to you. You wonder what this girl has that you didn’t.

Later that night, you and your roommate split a bottle of wine.

"I hope he thinks of me when he fucks her," you ranted to your roommate.

You were pacing the living room like a caged tiger. A caged, drunk tiger anyway. You were angry. How could he? What right does he have to be happy when you still whisper his name when you make yourself cum?

"I'm going to call him!"

Your roommate thankfully finds your phone before you do. She swipes it OFF the coffee table while you're digging around in your pockets.

"Nope, that is a horrible idea," she says.

"Why? Don't I deserve answers? Closure?" you sit beside her on the couch. Your puppy eyes were almost enough for her to change her mind, but she didn't.

"Of course you do, but not like this."

After your ranting and raving becomes sleepy, your roommate — No...your hero — tucks you into bed. She covers you up with a soft blanket and pushes your hair off your face.

"Do you think he misses me?" you whine. "I want him to miss me.”

"He'd be stupid not to miss you,” she says, too kind to break your delusions for now, “Get some sleep."

It felt like your heart was ripped out. Seeing a stupid selfie was one thing. Being face-to-face with the happy couple in the produce section of your favorite grocery store is another rotten thing entirely. Aizawa doesn't even live in this neighborhood. You can’t fathom why he’d decide to date someone from the same neighborhood as you.

You're frozen to the spot. Your nails dug into the fragile flesh of the peach you were testing for ripeness moments before your worst nightmare came true. Aizawa doesn't notice you but, to your surprise, she does. Her smile falters and she quickly looks away as if making eye contact with you was painful for her. It was odd to see. You want to look away too, but seeing them is like watching a car crash. No matter how badly you want to look away, you just can’t.

"Oh, hello," Aizawa says when you finally shift into his line of sight.

"Hi," you fake a smile. You were hoping maybe you’d be able to seem genuinely unphased.

It’s hard to be unphased when he doesn't have to fake a smile. His smile is real and you know she’s the reason for it.

You clear your throat, "How are you?"

"I'm good. Uh, this is my girlfriend, Ami."

"Nice to meet you." you lie for the sake of friendliness but refuse to shake hands.

"I've heard so much about you." Ami says. "About your hero work, of course!"

“Right, of course. Thanks."

“We should get going, babe," he says and places his hand on her back.

Babe? When did he become a guy who said something like 'babe'. It makes your stomach turn as you walk away. You used to make fun of people who said ‘babe’ together.

"Why was I not enough for you?" you text him that night. Your eyes are so blurry with tears that you don't even think you could read his response. Not that he will ever respond, you figure.

You roll onto you side, letting the tears flow from your eyes into the pillow. You clutch on tightly to the fluffy teddy bear he’d bought you for the last birthday you’d spent together.

"Don't do this," he texts back

.You drop your phone onto the bed, and you bury your face against your teddy bear. The muffled scream you let out is full of pain. You still love him. You know you shouldn't, but you want him back. You can taste him on your lips still.

“Why? Because it's not on your time? Because you're not in control?" you text back.

"No! Because you're being emotional again.”

“Again? God forbid I have feelings.”

Aizawa was always so controlled. It was infuriating to know that no matter what you say you will never get under his skin the way you want to. He doesn’t respond for the longest time, and you decide to try once again to get to him.

“Of course I'm emotional. I fucking love you."

When he doesn't respond, you get the message. There's nothing else to say. He's over you, or he wants to be. All you can do is pick up the pieces.

#🌸.writes #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa bnha x reader #aizawa mha x reader #eraserhead x reader

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misguidedasgardian · 6 months ago

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Wild Cats (part V)

V. The need

MASTERLIST

Summary: Even though you just escaped death, you couldn’t count yourselves as saved yet

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, cannibalism, reader eats a squirrel (after they cooked it of course), you know what this is about.

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: Carol gets in the mean machine a bit

You guarded them, Rick, Carl, Michonne, Tyrell, Carol, Maggie, Glenn, Sasha, Bob, Tyresse and Daryl, you kept watch as you heard them make a list of everyone that was in the prison, and everyone that was accounted for, or you guessed, didn’t make it and they saw it go down

Apparently, as Carl had told you, they had been living in a prison for half a year, it was the perfect place against the new world, you’d think, as you could easily protect it, but some psycho tried to take it over with a tank, attacking the prison, destroying it in the process, and vanishing Rick’s community from there. At some point there were like forty people living in it, and in front of you is what was left.

A haunting thought

They were seeing if there was any chance someone else might still be out there, and they got to the conclusion there wasn’t, well, except for… Beth

She was Maggie’s younger sister and she was taken, when she was Daryl before you met him, before the thing with the claimers.

“New here too, right?”, asked Tara, you smiled and nodded, “I just met Rick, MIchonne and Carl a couple of days ago, after they escaped the prison, how about you?”, you asked her

“I was part of the group that took the prison”, she said with a horrid expression on her face.

“Oh”, you didn’t know what to say

“Our leader lied to us, made us do it”, she said shortly. One thing you’d learn in the apocalypse, is that is was like it was in prison, you heard very few stories, and shorter ones, nobody liked to talk about “before”

You also had a good story to tell, but… alas… nobody asked you either.

“We should get going”, said Rick

“Where are we going?”, you asked softly. He looked back at you, he didn’t have a plan, neither of you did.

“For now we keep walking until we can find someone to lay low, regroup, replenish our strength”, he said, and you nodded, that sounded like a great plan, you only hoped this place existed.

You noticed something else too, Daryl was always hanging back, measuring, watching, his crossbow always ready to release. He often walked away from the group in thought, just to come back a few hours later while you walked.

The night came quicker than you expected and to your surprise, Daryl came in with dead squirrels for dinner.

You had never eaten squirrels before.

It was… tasty, tasted like chicken. After he set a fire and cooked them himself. You always felt his eyes on you, when you looked back he seemed to be analyzing you, testing you, as you tried the squirrel and then ate it.

“Good enough for ya’?”, he asked as he munched on his

“it’s great”, you said, of course at first you were not convinced.

You couldn’t hunt for shit, and in that period when you were alone you saw some gray days, but you always managed. You had eaten so many expired canned things you were pleasantly surprised that you haven't gotten poisoned yet.

You took turns to sleep, there were fifteen of you, so you took turns. You realized that in the -adult- close circle, those being Michone, Rick, Carol, Daryl, Maggie and Glenn divided themselves into the five groups to take guards, they didn’t trust you, or the trio, or Tara more, but you understood it.

You were just almost eaten by humans who promised you sanctuary

Daryl kept watch with you like at three AM, and also Abraham, who wouldn’t let Eugene do anything of substance.

“What did you both do before all of this?”, he asked, which wasn’t fair, it was clear what he did. You looked at Daryl who didn’t answer

“Does it really matter?”, you asked

“Hell yeah”

“What I can tell you is that I didn’t do anything special”, you said simply, “nothing that could have helped me survive this anyways”, you said quietly, but you still felt both gazes on to you, “I’m a designer mayor”, you concluded, “just finished my masters when the crap hit the fan”

“You don’t sound like you’re from around here”, he said

“I’m not”, you said, but you were not willing to answer anymore and he seemed to understand it.

“And what about you?”, he asked Daryl in turn, you looked back at him expectantly, but he only mumbled something under his breath

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?”, you asked, “we are all different people now, and it’s not like we need CV’s”, you said softly.

“We are going to fix this”, he said, all convinced

“That’s just bullshit man”, muttered Daryl. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, you really didn’t. A scientist that could stop this? on their way to DC with these militars? that sounded so, so strange, but again, this had become a strange world

“I can use some people like you in the team”, he said, looking at you both. Daryl just shook his head

“You said you are going to DC?”, you asked, he nodded, “how do you know someone is there still?”, finding people that had a similar plan to yours was… endearing, maybe you weren’t so wrong after all.

“Well, we did lose contact a few weeks back, but there were still people there”, he said, “the last ones standing”. Someone created this virus, you were sure of it, and as easier someone could change this back, this was a virus, you really did hope there was a way back.

Although things were irreparable now. But at least, people didn’t have to keep coming back to life as flesh-eating monsters, and furthermore, people didn’t have to keep being eaten.

“You too”, encouraged Abraham, you raised your eyes from the fire to look at him

“Why me?”, you asked him

“I saw you wielding that ax”, he said nodding proudly, you weren’t better with an ax that Daryl was with a bow, “you both should be there when we save the world”, Daryl only chuckled, mockingly, and then stood up to go for a walk around the camp. You both joined him, because you didn’t want to have another “claimers” situation, one where the group sneaked past your round, so you went in all different directions.

“You’re with me”, muttered Daryl, you just walked towards him silently, and submerged yourself into the woods.

The moon helped you, also, the sky was clear so you could see once you adjusted your eyesight. You watched where you were going, last time you tripped he snapped at you, when you were slow he also snapped at you.

You got it, he was this tough, tracker, hunter guy, but still, he seemed to be always looming over you,watching your every move

You didn’t care, something made you want to please him, to prove yourself worthy to him, you didn’t know what it was.

You are focused so much in your “quickness” and being fast that you didn’t watched much when you were going, especially since it was pitch black, you tripped and fell on your face, and you would have been embarrassed, if it wasn’t because you didn’t trip because of a branch or something, something grabbed you.

You heard the growls and you knew you were fucked, truly fucked

“Ah!”, you screamed when you kicked and hit the walker in its face, you turned around and you could barely see the silhouette. You grabbed your ax but you were so afraid to hit yourself, it lodged in what it seemed to be it’s shoulder

You saw and heard its mouth snapping open, he was going to get you, his boney body over your other leg, not allowing you to kick him

And then, an arrow lodged itself in the middle of its forehead, stopping his movements at once.

“It’s a wonder you haven’t been killed ye”, he mumbled, coming to you, grabbing the arrow from its head, and grabbing you, getting you on your feet, “did he get ya?”, you grabbed onto him, shaking your head

“Thank you”, you said, trying to hold on into his thick arm, as you took foot on solid ground

“Be more careful will ya?”, he asked and walked away from you, releasing his hold on you.

“Sorry”, you said, catching up to him, “thank you I thought it was gonna get me”, you were shaken up, you felt your heart thundering. He didn’t say anything as he kept walking forwards, you walked stuck to his side, creeped out of your mind. Soon your round was over and you came back to the bonfire.

You didn’t understand why Daryl was so angry at you all the time. And furthermore you didn’t understand why he was hovering over you, as he sat right by your side, and slept right by you too. He wouldn’t stop checking where you were or what you were doing, you didn’t understand at all. You stole a glance at him and saw him staring into the fire. He had some beautiful eyes… the bastard, and underneath all that wild hair… he was sort of handsome, in a… special, wild way.

He caught you staring so you looked away quickly, and soon, you woke the others up and it was your time to rest.

. . .

The next night found you in the church of the priest you saved from three walkers. He gave you the creeps. You believed yourself to be a good judge of character and you did not like him at all, but you needed sanctuary, food, water and a plan, so you should be fine there for a couple of weeks. If Rick trusted him, so could you, besides, there was fifteen of you, and one of him.

There you had more time to get acquainted with the rest of the group. You’d learn that baby Judith was a badass, and super quiet for a baby. She was such a cute little baby.

You’d learned so many things from the rest of the group, how Tyresse was certainly the most intimidating-looking but a gentle giant, Bob was… odd. Carol was very reserved and if Daryl gave you judging looks he’s got nothing on her. She barely even talked to you.

Eugene was a bit of a weirdo, he was, he tried to “came onto you” multiple times and you’d reject his lewd advances quickly, and Abraham and Rosita would laugh at him. It was sort of comical, he was lacking very esencial social skills. But Abraham, Eugene and a couple of more were hellbent on fixing a broken church bus to get them to DC, and the rest of you were just trying to get supplies to keep going, or figure out what to do next.

You were not impressed by the town or its surroundings, but you were asked by Rick to stay near the church with Carl, baby Judith and the others, and you did, happily.

As you had a time for yourself, you sat in one of the church’s benches and peeked at a map you had of Georgia and the surrounding states, of the plan you had made when you got out of Atlanta, of the island…

Rick sat by your side and peeked, you looked at him, he had baby Judith in his arms

“This would have come handy before”, he chided gently

“I forgot I had it, I thought it was in my backpack, but it was in one of the zippers in my jacket”, you explained softly, there was some scribbles in it, Rick read them

“What was this?”, he pointed at your “plan V”

“Plan Vacation Village”, you said, he chuckled, “it’s an island on Lake Lanier”, you said softly, he looked at you wide-eyed, “I thought to go seek refuge there, an island right? easy to protect”

“What happened?”, he asked

“Never found out”, you said sadly, “never got to”, he looked at you funny

“This could work”, he said, “we should be close enough”

“I’m sure I’m not the only one who came to the same conclusion”, you said surely, “that islands were the safest way… it could backfire, there could be walkers trapped in there…besides, it’s big, very…”

“Maybe…”, he said. He looked ahead, at the group getting ready for dinner, “why won’t you go find Daryl and Carol? we can discuss this at dinner”, he said softly, you nodded. He treated you like you were a little girl sometimes, but… Carol and Daryl were in the watch team, they preferred it so. You walked outside and realized it was already night, pitch dark, you were going to tell Rick to fetch them yourself, you didn’t want to go at night, but there it was again, the need to prove yourself, so you went out there anyways.

You seemed to catch a glimpse of Daryl out there, so, you followed him, you didn’t want to call out for him, so you tried to move quickly. you ended up a few yards away from the church when you catched him, he was with Carol.

“... you seemed pretty cozy with her last night… the new girl”, said Carol teasingly

“She is just another dead girl”

“Rick wants us for dinner”, you said, they both froze and looked back at you, and you cursed yourself because your voice broke in the last second

They looked back at you wide-eyed

“I walk pretty stealthy for a dead girl”, you said bitterly

They were going to answer, but the three of you almost ducked when you heard an engine, a car, it passed right by you, it was black, Daryl went out of his way to catch a glimpse of it, and when he did, he was quick to grab the bow and smashed the back lights of the car they were preparing

“What are you doing!?”, asked Carol

“That’s the car that took Beth!”, he said quickly, “get in! Both of you!”, he said, and wouldn’t take no for an answer

“What?”, you asked, but they both jumped in, and rather than being out here alone, with a sigh, you jumped into the car too.

Damn you and your need to prove yourself.

#misguidedcats #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon the walking dead #rick grimes #michonne #season 5 TWD #twd season 5

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ladykailitha · 1 year ago

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The Magic of Christmas Part 1/8

Here it is, guys! My first Christmas steddie story. It was a blast to write even though sometimes it was struggle to get words down being so close to the holidays.

Summary: Steve doesn't play D&D, not really. But he's been a fan of Eddie Munson's artwork for Wizards of the Coast for years. So after he inherits the business from his dad, he decides the best use of all his dad's money is spend it on a five piece painting for the Party of their characters fighting a purple dragon. So he hires Eddie to do the work, but because it's so labor intensive, Steve offers to pay all of Eddie's bills plus any expenses he has for the paintings. How is Eddie to say no to that, so he doesn't try. He also doesn't try not falling in love with Steve. Will Steve reject him or will Eddie get a little magic for Christmas?

Words: 17012 CW: none Rating: Teen for swearing mostly Relationships: Steddie, background Buckingham, Jancy, Eden/Argyle, Dustin/Suzie, Lumax, and a surprise later in the story. Mike and El aren't dating in this, but neither is Mike and Will. They're single.

Also, Steve comes off as mildly autistic in this. He's based on a lot of my own experiences, so I hope this doesn't scare you off.

Essentially this is Eddie falls first, Steve falls harder over the course of six months. June and July aren't strictly mentioned, but you know it's happening during those two months.

***

Eddie walked into the high rise office building feeling a little out of place. All right, maybe a lot of place, if he was being honest with himself.

Here he was in a faded leather jacket and ripped black jeans in an actual fucking glass elevator to the top floor.

The doors opened up to warm outer office. It was dark woods and deep reds and golds. He had been expecting it to look like the rest of the building. He skipped forward to the woman at the desk a little unsure if he was in the right place.

“Hey, um...” he began, tilting his head. “I think I might be in the wrong place. But I’m Eddie Munson and I have a two o’clock appointment with Steve Harrington?”

She blinked up at him in shock. “This is Steve Harrington’s office, let me look at the schedule. I vaguely remember him making sure I didn’t schedule anything for this time.”

Eddie handed her the card that had Steve’s name on the front and the date and time on the back. She took it from him and nodded. He bit his lip nervously as she fiddled with something on her computer.

“All right,” she said, “I do see that he has an hour of time blocked off, but let me call him.”

Eddie nodded.

“Steve,” she said into the receiver. “I have an Eddie Munson here for you.”

“He’s here?” Eddie could hear the excitement in the person’s voice. “Send him in!”

She smiled. “Will do.” She hung up the phone. “Looks you’re good to go.”

Eddie smiled back. “Thanks.” He leaned over the desk for a moment. “I’m guessing you don’t know what this is about anymore than I do.”

She shook his head. “Nope. But he sounds excited to see you so you should really do that.”

He nodded back and skipped over to the door where it swung open as he reached it. He turned back to her. “Neat trick.”

She grinned back.

Eddie walked through the door and found that the inner office was very much the same as the outer one. All warm and cozy. And...well. Friendly.

Behind the desk leaping to his feet to greet him was the most gorgeous human Eddie had ever laid eyes on. He had floppy dark golden hair with hazel eyes behind neat glasses. His smile was easy and infectious.

“Eddie!” the Greek Adonis in a smartly tailored suit said brightly, sticking his hand out to him. “I’m so glad you came. When I spoke to your agent I got the impression you don’t usually do commissions.”

He half shrugged taking the outstretched hand and shaking it. “It’s been a slow year and I don’t taking the odd commission when it intrigues me.”

Steve blushed. “I intrigued the great Eddie Munson, I’m flattered.”

Eddie raised both eyebrows. “I didn’t realize you were a fan of my work.”

Steve nodded eagerly. “Oh hell yeah. I managed to get a picture of that lovely mural you did to cover the gang signs in the neighborhood before the cops destroyed it.”

Eddie blinked. Well fuck. He didn’t realize anyone had known that was him.

“You didn’t tell the cops it was me, did you?”

Steve laughed, clear and bright. He sat down and gestured for Eddie to do the same. “Rule number one. Don’t tell cops shit.”

Eddie sat down with a thud. “That’s good to know.”

Steve grinned wickedly at him and pulled out a picture of the mural from his desk drawer. He handed it to Eddie for him to look at.

“Usually it’s on my desk,” Steve said. “But I didn’t want to come across as too much of a fan boy right away.”

Eddie ran his fingers over the glass. It was of a pack of wolves howling at the moon rising over a tall mountain range.

“It’s nice to see that it’ll be remembered in some small way,” he murmured.

“I’ve got an photographer friend who can make a copy for you if you’d like,” Steve said softly.

Eddie’s head shot up. “You’d do that?”

This time it was Steve that gave a little half shrug. “I mean I can tell it was important to you so...”

He grinned. “Thanks, man. So what’s this commission you’re wanting me to do?”

Steve blushed again. “Do you still do illustrations for Wizard of the Coast?”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. That’s where Steve knew his art from, fucking D&D? This day couldn’t get any weirder.

He cleared his throat. “Like, sometimes. Right now I’m not happy with them for trying to take the game away from little homebrew gamers like me and my friends. But yeah, beggars can’t be choosers.”

Steve nodded. “God, I wish we could go back to the days were stupid rich people would hire poor artists to paint for them for a year or whatever. Free paint, free room and board.”

“Lack of freedom of expression though,” Eddie laughed.

Steve laughed with him. “Not if you’re sleeping with the mistress of the house.”

Eddie laughed harder. “Sorry, I’d be more likely to be sleeping with the master than the mistress.”

Steve smiled with a little shrug. “I’d probably end up doing both if they were hot enough.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. All right, noted. “Though I suppose in the scenario you’d be the master, so you’d be sleeping with the artist and the mistress.”

Steve grinned. “Well that’s certainly true.”

Eddie needed to get this meeting to move on before he leapt over the desk to fuck this gorgeous man senseless. “You want to be paint something in my D&D style?”

Steve lit up and Eddie had bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying something stupid like how hot he found that look on Steve’s face.

“Yeah, I have these...” he said, “well they aren’t kids anymore. But they were when I first met them. They’re really big into D&D. In fact Dustin, the one I’m closest to is the one that got me into your art. They were so well done in the books and then found out you had a website and well...” he blushed. “I really liked the fantasy stuff.”

Eddie smirked. He knew exactly what Steve was talking about. There was a section on his website where you had to put in your credit card information to even view it. Did he know that kids stole their parents’ credit cards to view that part of his site? Sure. But at least it made sure most of the time that the viewer was over the age of eighteen.

There was more to fantasy then elves or dragons. Eddie smiled.

“Did you now?”

Steve blushed deeper. “Not that I want you to do that for this!” he said waving his hands. “They maybe adults now, I’m not that insane! But they have these characters that they’ve had since they were twelve and I was hoping you could paint them fighting a dragon. Especially a purple dragon. Because they are so cool.”

Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. “What were you thinking in terms of size?”

Steve pulled out another picture and slid it over to Eddie. Eddie picked it up and looked at it. It was one of those wall paintings that were split into separate pieces but if put together it would form a cohesive picture.

“I was thinking 10x18 for the side pieces and 18x24 for the middle piece which would have the dragon,” Steve explained.

“And each of the side pieces would have a different character?”

Steve nodded. “I was wanting it by Christmas, would that give you enough time to do it?”

Eddie sat back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I’m mean, I guess. A month for each of the smaller ones and two months for the larger piece. It’s doable. If it’s the only thing I work on for the next six months. So I would require at least half the payment up front.”

Steve nodded and pulled out a piece of paper from a leather folio on his desk and handed it over to him.

Eddie started reading and was about half way down when he realized it was a contract. He usually had his own contract to give clients, especially for projects this big. But looking over Steve’s contract, not only was it better worded, it was a lot better offer for Eddie.

“Do you mind if I take this and show my agent before sign?” he asked.

Steve smiled. “No, of course not. Be my guest. In fact, I insist.”

Eddie relaxed. “Thanks!”

Steve ducked his head bashfully. “I really hope you’ll do it. You’re my favorite artist. Dusty’s too.”

Hoo-boy did Eddie know that look. It was the look of someone who was used to being shut down for their interests because they got too excited talking about it.

It was starting to look like regardless of what Chrissy thought about contract, he was going to do it. Because fuck, no one should have to feel like they were too much.

He stood up and shook his hand. “Is the end of the week okay?”

Steve’s head jerked up in shock. “What?”

“For the contract?” Eddie said, holding up the piece of paper.

“Oh!” Steve murmured. “Yeah. That’ll be a fine.”

Eddie got up and shook Steve’s hand. He walked to the door, but paused at the doorway. He turned back and tilted his head down and around. “You don’t have to limit yourself with me, okay? You can be yourself with me.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “What? I don’t know what you mean...”

“The look on your face when you were talking about me being your favorite artist,” Eddie explained. “It’s something I see all the time with my friends and even myself. You close yourself off because you think you’re going to be shut down and told to shut up or at the very least dial it back. And I’m saying you don’t have to. Not with me.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head again. “You just want to me flatter the hell out of you.”

Eddie laughed. “I won’t deny that flattering works on me. But I mean it, okay? Don’t limit yourself. The people that mind don’t matter and those that matter won’t mind.”

Steve smiled. “Dr. Seuss. I’ll try to remember that.”

“See that you do,” Eddie said with a laugh. He tapped his hand on the door frame and then walked away.

He was almost to the elevator when the secretary said, “I heard what you said just now. About him not needing to hold back with you. Thank you.”

Eddie paused in his step. He whirled around and then skipped up to the desk. “You don’t need to thank me for that. He deserves to gush about the things he loves.”

“His parents would shut him up every time he would gush about anything,” she said. “Even sports. Which you would think would be the one thing that a boy should gush about, but nope.”

Eddie nodded. “Bastards.” He cocked his head to the side. “You are more than just his secretary aren’t you?”

She laughed. “Best friend and soulmate, Robin Buckley.” She stuck out her hand.

Eddie shook it with a wide smile. “Please to meet you. I’m guessing you’re president of the Steve Harrington Appreciation Society. Where can one sign up?”

Robin laughed. “Signing that contract will do the job I think.” She jutted her chin up at the paper in his hand.

He shrugged. “I got have my agent look at it before I sign anything. She’d murder me otherwise.”

“Fair.”

“See you around, Birdie,” Eddie said with a salute.

She frowned. “Birdie?”

He made a bird with his hands or at least tried with the contract in his hand. “Robin. Bird. Birdie.”

“Oh god,” she sighed. “You’re one of those.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Yup!” He skipped into elevator and pressed the button to the ground floor. He waved as the elevator lowered him down.

***

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #christmas #artist eddie #businessman steve #autistic steve harrington

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charlesswife · 2 years ago

Text

Una Noche En Monaco iv

Una segunda oportunidad (A second chance)

unem masterlist

pairing: charles leclerc x latina! reader

summary: after a one night stand between you and charles, he continues on with his formula one career. until two months later, you come back claiming to be pregnant with his child.

April 2023

"Are we going for ice cream now?" Fuck, I completely forgot about that.

"Umm not right now, sweetheart. We need to check on Percy, okay? Get everything ready for this week." I got Mateo in the car seat and took a long look at him. He is an exact copy of Charles.

"Mami, you're crying"

I touched my face. "I'm just so happy that you are such a good boy," I smiled at him. "You know, there are some people that are just cruel and evil," Mateo gasped.

"Like in the books?"

"Exactly like in the books. And those people might want to hurt Mommy, and take you away from me," I don't really know Charles Leclerc, but I do know I'm worth more than him. If he tries to take my little boy away from me, I will kill him.

"I'll protect you, Mommy," he made a fist, "I'm strong."

"Yes, you are, mi amor," I closed the door, as I turned around I saw Charles coming out of the bookstore, holding his phone to the side, taking a phone call. He was wearing black pants as well as a black shirt. He had his famous sunglasses on. He didn't look like the twenty-year-old boy I met almost five years ago. He looked different. More mature.

He stopped walking and as he pulled his sunglasses down he said, "Y/n?"

"Charles..." I murmured. He hung up the phone and walked towards me. I panicked and ran to the driver's seat.

"Wait! Y/n!"

I started the engine and drove off.

"So he saw you," Steph said. I let out a small “uhuh.”

"And you ran off," I uhuhed again "So what's gonna happen now?"

"What do you mean?" I asked her. I took a bite of my tiramisu.

"I mean, what are you gonna do? He knows you live here in Monaco and where you work," she leaned closer to me and whisper, "Did he see Mateo?" I looked at my son, who was in the living room playing with Percy.

"I don't think so, I mean I left so fast. I hope not." I love tiramisu, they are so flavorful.

She looked at me for a second and hesitantly she said, “Do you think… he might want to be involved in you guys' lives?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“I mean,” she continued. “would you let him?”

“I DON’T KNOW STEPH,” I yelled. Mateo stopped playing with Percy. I looked at him and said, “It’s okay Mate, keep playing.” I turned to Steph, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled but this whole thing me pone nerviosa, like why was he there in the first place?" It makes me nervous.

“Mira” Look “All I’m saying is that maybe… just maybe give him a chance” I was going to interrupt but she held a finger up. “Maybe he changed. Maybe he grew up. Maybe he’s different.”

“No.” I said.

“No?”

“He hurt me the last time I saw him. I won’t give him the satisfaction to see Mateo just because he feels like it.”

“Y/n…”

All of the sudden, my phone started to ring. My eyes widen, and with shaken hands, I flipped the phone.

Pascale is calling... I let out a big sigh and answered the phone.

"Hey, Pascale, how are you?" Steph grabbed a spoon and tried to get a piece of my tiramisu, I gently slapped her hand away.

"Oh, hello, Y/n. I'm at the store today," I completely forgot about that. Every weekend since last month, Pascale and I take coffee together and we talk. She became a good friend of mine, she knows my story.

"Oh yes!" I answered, "Steph told me, she said you came with your kids,"

"Yes, I wanted you to meet them, are you here now?"

"No, I had to leave to do some stuff, but maybe next time!" I told her.

"Yeah, maybe next time," some voice could be heard in the background, "I'll let you go, Y/n, my son is bothering me right now."

I laughed at that comment. "Alright, Pascale. See you soon."

"See you soon, belle." She said last and hang up.

For the first time in four years, I looked up any news recent news about formula one and Charles Leclerc. According to articles, this season hasn't been a good start for him or Ferrari. Last week, he raced in Australia but did not finish the race. His next race is in Baku in about three weeks. So I can either not get out of my house for three weeks, or actually confront him and let him in our life.

"Do you think I can quarantine for three weeks?"

"You wanna quarantine for three weeks? You barely even made it out of the pandemic and now you wanna quarantine for three weeks?" Steph tried to get a piece of my Tiramisu.

"Stop it! It's mine!"

"Oh, grow up Y/n. Why do you even wanna quarantine? Is this some sort of author method that you are doing to get your second book done?" Angelica, my literacy agent, has been quite pushy with the deadline for my second book.

"No..." I finished my Tiramisu and drank some water. "Charles is going to be here in Monaco for three weeks," I murmured.

"Girl... you're kidding me, right?"

I decided to be the bigger person and actually talk to Charles Leclerc.

I realized that it wouldn't be healthy for Mateo to grow up without a father. I don't want to be responsible for any intentional or unintentional trauma that I could cause him. I don't want to be in my late 30s and have Mateo yelling in my face saying I ruined his life just because he didn't have a father. I'm only doing this for Mateo.

Other than that, Charles Leclerc can go to hell.

Let's see how good of a father he can be when he has to spend most of his time traveling.

Charles' POV

What is the first thing you say to the woman you accused of being a gold-digger, manipulator, con artist after she told you she was pregnant with your child after you guys have the craziest and most exotic night of your life?

Sometimes I wish I could kick twenty-year-old me in the face for how stupid I was.

I walked into L'Incantato Restaurant, which was the restaurant Y/n decided to meet me. I was surprised when she sent me the address, as this has been a restaurant I've been wanting to go to since it opened, but there are never available reservations. There are three restaurants in Monaco, I've heard great stuff about the food and the service. The waiter guided me to a private area where only she was sitting. It was very private, and I knew we could have a free conversation here. She was sitting in the red booth side of the table, making it look like she was the center of attention

She was more stunning than the last time I saw her. Her hair is longer than what it was four years ago. Her body... Stop.

As I was getting closer to her, I saw her take a sip of wine as she was scrolling through her phone. Once I got in front of her, she put her phone away.

Once I sat down at the table I said, "Hi, Y/n. Thank you for agreeing to meet me here," I extended my hand towards her but she only started at it. I pulled my hand back. She was more beautiful up close. Her makeup was flawless, her eyeliner made her eyes look sharp and her red lipstick made her lips look luscious.

"I was surprised when you contacted me. I thought you wouldn't remember my name," She said as she swayed her cup of wine. I remember her name, I've been having her name stuck in my head for the past four years, but I know she's referring to the last time we saw each other when she told me she was pregnant and I told her I didn't even remember her name.

"Look, I'm so sorry for the things I have said," I started. "I called you so many horrible things that I regret deeply and I would never call a woman that. I was at the beginning of my career and I thought you were working for someone to mess me up. I am stupid and in my defense I was..."

"In your defense?!" Fuck... Wrong choice of words. I saw the waiter come to us with a bottle of wine. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" Once the waiter heard that, she turned around and walked away. "Don't try to play the victim here, because you are not. I am." She pointed at herself, "I told you the truth, I was a hundred percent honest the whole time, and still you kicked me out. So why, Charles Leclerc, should I give you a second chance?"

My heart was beating like crazy. Y/n was staring at me with her big brown eyes. I forgot what I was supposed to say. I forgot what the question was in the first place.

I was saved by a bell - or the waiter. "Hello, how are we doing tonight? I'll be your waiter for the evening, can I start you with any appetizers?"

Y/n looked at her and smiled. "I'll have my usual, thanks."

The waiter wrote it out in her notepad, "Of course, Miss Y/l/n," and then turned to me. I didn't look at the menu once.

"Ehhh, I'm sorry," I remember the question now! "Eh, I'll just have whatever the chef recommends." I gave her back the menus.

"If you guys need anything, just press the bottom on the side of the table," as soon as she said that, she left.

There was a moment of silence for us. I couldn't look at her again. I passed my hand through the red tablecloth and looked around the place. "I've heard great stuff about this place, how did you get a reservation? I've been trying to get one to come with my mom for months,"

She took a sip of her wine again and murmured, "I know the owner," she leaned her back into the booth and crossed her arms. Don't look at her ti- "So, my question."

"What question?"

"Why should I give you a second chance, Charles Leclerc?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New Chapter!!

Is there crack in this story or what? The wayyy you guys have been asking for a new chapter is insane! I know how the story goes and what I scenes I want to put in it, I just don't know how to take it there! Idk if that made sense tbh.

Please let me know what you guys thought of this chapter and what are your predictions or theory!!

I was thinking that maybe I should make some sort of group chat so I could send a text when a new chapter is up because Tumblr only lets me tag up to 50 people and the tag list is suuuuper long.

If you guys don't know, I worked for the Miami Grand Prix last weekend and I would really appreciate it if you guys read about my experience there. In which I speak the whole truth of what I went through. Share it with your friends because stuff like this really needs to change.

My Experience Working For The Miami Grand Prix

On another note, have you guys seen Queen Charlotte? I watched it yesterday and I CRIED for 45 minutes, it was insane.

I lowkey wanna do Bridgerton! Charles Leclerc, but also sugar daddy Charles leclerc 👀, what do you guys think?

Taglist is closed!!!

@mac-daddy-210 @infinite-wanders @rbrsavage @itsyogurlkel @bbygrlllllll @nerdreader @imnotcryingyouare1 @killerangel88 @obx-mylove-things-blog @triorion @daniellarogers @insssanemind @bosinclairsgf @rb-danny @shyshva @booksobsess @ogfangirl @ravenqueen27 @masonspulisic @yunnie-f1 @simxican @ushygushybaby @graceverstappen11 @maximoff-xmen @severenswife @ferraribabe @pjofics @harrysdimple05 @mloyer @teti-menchon0604 @imagineadream @reidsworld @scentedskydreamer @christianpulisic10 @formulas-bitch @topguncultleader @hc-dutch @moonclaine @miureiz @tall-tanned-tattoo @madisontaxarn @bisexualbith @diasnohibng187 @im-just-here-toread @tyskills @rafaaoli @heavengirls111 @lighttsoutlewis @leclerc13 @c4ssi4-luv @livsans @ynbutbetter @marigoldgasly @vita-di-moda @sbrn0905 @yesshewrites1 @AmsOffTrack @fandomxs1 @ludmisorella @japanesekel @leclercsbae @padfootsiriusorionblackthethird @celestialams @dreamcarsound @bhiees @empathypostsf1 @marauderlover22 @zendayabelova @lord_leclerc @itsmesofia @Sebbybucky12 @notleclerc @dicaprio-leo @starkeyellow @spngi @karina-v20 @mskeisha69 @prrttyposts @vex-et-soleil @dessxoxsworld @thesurielscheesecake @btwimmel @67-angelofthelordme-67 @buckleyverse @Mickslover @formula1-bichyslut16 @allgaslynobrakess @Rossy1080 @staris23 @CelestialCharles @glitterf1 @f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @buckystwilight @Alionova

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