#back in my day my parents sent me to school with $2 and i was able to get full-ass meals at every fast food place in a five block radius

[pyrrhiccomedy]

I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.

Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.

My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.

Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.

And then the pandemic hit.

And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?

And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."

Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.

And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.

We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.

The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."

I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."

Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"

I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.

"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."

She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.

[lovemaybankk]

sweet - part 1: rafe cameron x kook!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x kook!reader

read part 2 here!

inspired by lana del rey's song, "sweet" ♡

summary: growing up with your protective older brother, topper thornton, has been challenging yet comforting. until recently, have you been starting to see your older brother's friend, rafe cameron, in a new light and your relationship with him starts to change.

word count: 2,324 words

author's note: thank you so much for reading this new series!! i sincerely hope you enjoy :)

p.s. next chapter includes smut!!

warning: cursing, mostly fluff!

"topper!" you called out, your voice sharp as it bounced off the walls of your large kitchen. "topper, where are you?!" frustration bubbled up as you roamed through your house, checking room after room. the faint thrum of loud music reached your ears, pulling your attention toward the home gym.

with a deep breath, you shoved open the door to the home gym, the music instantly blasting at full volume as if it had been lying in wait.

"topper!" you yelled, your voice barely cutting through the pounding bass that seemed to vibrate the very walls.

dumbbells, resistance bands, and foam rollers were scattered across the floor and in the center of it all, topper was doing bicep curls with his dumbbells, completely immersed in his conversation with his two friends, kelce and rafe. you had absolutely no idea how they could even hear each other with that loud of music playing.

"topper!" you shouted again, louder this time. he froze mid-curl, finally noticing you, and a little startled yet annoyed at his younger sister for barging in.

"what do you want, y/n?" he barked, as though you were the one intruding.

you marched straight to the speaker and turned the volume down to a level that wouldn’t have the neighbors filing noise complaints. the music dropped to a faint hum.

behind you, kelce was pumping through incline bench presses, his grunts in rhythm with his reps. rafe, meanwhile, was bent over a barbell, effortlessly pulling through a set of deadlifts.

"are you kidding me?" you snapped, spinning around to glare at your brother. "topper, you ate my food in the fridge! that was mine!"

he rolled his eyes, tossing the dumbbells onto the floor with a loud thud. "god, y/n, relax. it’s not a big deal. i'll give you cash and you can buy another one that's freshly cooked anyways."

"you’re so selfish, you know that?" you said, folding your arms.

he snorted. "chill out, y/n. here..." he pulled out his phone in his pockets and started frantically pressing the screen. you felt a vibration in your pockets and brought your phone lit up to your face to see a notification,

"'top' sent $100"

"that should be more than enough. go get yourself snacks if you want too. whatever will make you shut the hell up."

growing up, topper had a habit of finding ways to annoy you whether it was stealing your food when he knew you’d been saving it, blasting his music in the middle of your movie nights (with yourself), and even leaving behind his messes for you to clean.

and yet, in his own way, he cared about you. like the time in elementary school when you scraped your knee during a particularly bad fall on your bike. you’d been crying, more out of frustration than pain, and instead of teasing you for being "soft," he had come back minutes later with a band-aid, your favorite snack, and an awkward pat on the back.

there were moments when he let his guard down to be a good older brother. moments when he’d pick you up from sports practice, or buy you a bag of clothes after a long day, or cover for you when you accidentally broke the vase that one summer.

since then, topper had continued to care for you in his clumsy older-brother way. sure, your parents mostly favored him but their expectations for him still existed. they expected him to excel, to lead, and to be a perfect role model for you, especially since he was (exactly two years) older. topper carried the weight of their demands, which often translated into him pestering you with the same energy he’d picked up from your parents. like now.

"why don’t you just go and hop on your bike now, huh?" he said, cracking open his water bottle as though the solution was obvious. "go grab something to eat, chill out, and leave us alone."

"it’s literally freezing outside, topper," you shot back, already regretting coming into the gym.

"you’ll be fine,” he said, smirking as he leaned back against the bench.

and before you could deliver your next scathing comeback, rafe came in, setting down his barbell with a clang. "i’ll drive her," he offered, shrugging casually as he wiped his hands on a nearby towel. "it’s too cold for a bike ride, and she looks like she’s about to bite your head off, dude."

truth be told, you’d always kind of liked rafe cameron growing up. unlike most of topper’s other friends, who barely acknowledged your existence, rafe was the one who always made an effort to be friendly. he’d always greet you when he came over, ask how school was going, and sometimes even share a laugh at topper’s expense with you.

and then there was that one memorable time, back during the ninth-grade, when you’d gotten stood up for your first high school dance. you’d spent weeks picking out the perfect dress, building up the courage to say yes when a boy you liked asked you to go. but when the night came, he’d never shown up. you had sat on the couch, trying to hide your disappointment as topper and his friends teased you about your "special night".

rafe had been different, though. he’d walked into the room, taken one look at you sitting there all dressed up, and without missing a beat, said, "i’ll take you." you’d blinked at him in response, a little stunned. "what?"

"i’ll take you to the dance," he repeated, a faint grin on his face as he shrugged. "you’ve already got the dress and everything, right? might as well go."

topper had rolled his eyes and laughed, but rafe had ignored him. twenty minutes later, he was in a suit jacket, standing by the front door, waiting for you like a proper date.

that night, he made sure you didn’t feel out of place, even though you were nervous and embarrassed at first. he’d danced with you, cracked jokes until you were smiling, and even pretended to be your date when your friends asked questions.

when the night had finally wound down, rafe hadn’t dropped you off and gone home like anyone else would. he’d offered to take you out for a late-night snack. so, the two of you had ended up at a diner near the city, picking at plates of fries and sharing stories while the neon lights flickered outside. and for a brief moment, it made you forget all the times you felt like an afterthought in your family, while your older brother was the center of attention.

that night had turned into one of those memories that stuck with you dearly. and though rafe was still the same cocky, laid-back guy, he had an empathy that maybe only you saw. and by the way, your older brother made the decision to gather himself and his friends, including rafe, to "confront" that same boy who stood you up.

topper groaned, rolling his eyes. "fine. go, whatever. just let me and kelce finish our workout in peace."

luckily, rafe was already grabbing his keys.

"c’mon," he said, his voice low but firm. "i could use the break anyway."

as you climbed into rafe’s car, you glanced around the messy interior: empty water bottles, a stray jacket, and a faint scent of mint and cologne. he turned down the music as he started the engine, his movements smooth and unhurried.

"you okay?" he asked, glancing over at you as the car warmed up along with the slightly loud noises of the air conditioning. his tone was casual, but there was an edge of sincerity in it that comforted you. "yes," you muttered. "thanks for this."

he smirked, his eyes briefly meeting yours. "don’t thank me yet. topper for sure owes me for this one."

you couldn’t help but laugh a little, the tension from earlier melting enough to make the ride bearable.

as rafe pulled into the familiar parking lot, you realized where he was taking you: the same diner you’d gone to after the dance. the neon lights flickered outside, casting a soft glow across the empty lot. a wave of nostalgia hit you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the memory of that night.

inside, the warmth of the diner greeted you, and the smell of greasy fries and fresh burgers filled the air. you both slid into a booth, and rafe didn’t waste any time before he ordered. you hesitated, but eventually chose something simple, the kind of comfort food you knew would hit the spot.

"you know, this place actually isn’t half bad," rafe said as he looked over at you, his voice light. he gave you a quick smile before shrugging.

you laughed, feeling a little lighter. "it's actually really good!"

as the food arrived, rafe handed you his jacket, noticing you shiver. "here, you look like you could use it." you blinked in surprise, but his easy, nonchalant gesture made it feel completely natural. you draped it over your shoulders, grateful for the warmth.

the ride back home was quiet, the sound of the car humming as you leaned back against the seat. the warmth from the jacket and the full stomach made your eyelids heavy, and before long, you were drifting off, your head lolling against the window.

when the car finally stopped, you felt a gentle nudge on your shoulder. "hey," rafe said softly, "we’re here."

you blinked awake, your body delaying to respond. you looked like a complete mess with a little drool coming out and your hair bunched up, but he didn’t say anything. instead, he gently slid the seat back, helping you out of the car.

before you could protest, he had already scooped you up into his arms, carrying you with surprising ease toward the front door.

"rafe, what the....?" you mumbled, still half-asleep and confused, but he didn’t answer. he just chuckled quietly and continued up the stairs to your room. when he set you down on your bed, he tucked the blanket around you, his movements careful as if he were trying not to wake you completely.

"get some sleep y/n," he said softly, pausing at the door. "you’ll need it."

your eyes fluttered closed again, the warmth of your bed and the comfort of rafe’s care wrapping around you. you barely registered when the door shut, but you knew, even if you couldn’t thank him properly, he’d done something more than just drop you off.

you felt a sudden tug at your shoulders, and your eyes slowly blinked open to find your older brother standing over you, shaking you awake.

"oh my god, what do you want, topper?!" you groaned, trying to push the blankets over your head in a futile attempt to block out the morning.

"it's 10 am y/n," he said, his voice more annoying than usual, "you remember breakfast with our grandparents, right?"

you blinked a few times, still trying to shake off the fog of sleep. the memory gradually crept back into your mind, and you groaned again, this time more out of frustration than sleepiness.

"ugh, i forgot about that," you muttered, rubbing your eyes and sitting up. "why did you have to remind me? it's too early for this."

topper shrugged, unfazed by your groggy attitude. "because mom wants us there by 11, and you know how she gets when we’re late. i also know you take forever to get ready and clearly, you're not even close to ready."

you shot him a glare, already thinking about how this day was shaping up to be like every other which was full of reminders about family obligations. "fine," you grumbled, throwing off the covers and getting out of bed. "i’ll go. but this better be worth it."

"no wonder you're so tired," he said, clearly annoyed. "i bet staying out late with rafe last night did you in, huh?"

you groaned, sitting up a little, now fully aware of the teasing tone in his voice. "it wasn’t that late," you mumbled, trying to sound convincing, but you knew he wouldn’t let it slide. "and maybe if you didn't eat my food, i would've slept at a decent time. and your friend actually had the decency to help me get that food back."

topper raised an eyebrow. "sure..." he paused and gave you a concerned look.

"and i’m not exhausted because of that, topper," you snapped, rubbing your face. "i’m just exhausted because you woke me up too early."

he let out a little laugh, walking toward the door. he shot you a teasing grin before he left. "you know, if you didn't stay up snacking with him, maybe you wouldn't be like this right now."

"you’re a pain in the ass," you muttered under your breath as he disappeared, but you couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped. you knew he was just being his usual protective yet controlling self, and maybe, just maybe, there was a hint of concern underneath the teasing regarding his friend's relationship with his little sister.

you heard the door suddenly open again, with topper lingering by the hinge, his hand hovering over the handle. "by the way," he said, his tone still calm, "we go in thirty minutes. so be ready and at the car."

"i got it," you grumbled, not looking up from where you were half-draped over your bed.

topper didn’t wait for a response. he just turned and walked out, leaving the door wide open.

"topper, are you serious?!" you called after him, your frustration mounting. "close my door!"

but of course, he didn’t. typical of him.

you sighed in annoyance, getting up to close the door yourself. and with the door finally shut, you hurried to get ready. you took a deep breath, grabbing your belongings and heading downstairs, ready to face whatever the day had in store.

[runninriot]

Santa's Secret

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 23

prompt: hot chocolate | rated G | wc: 998 | tags: Eddie & Wayne Munson, single dad Steve Harrington

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | AO3 (+bonus epilogue)

Eddie can’t wait to get out of the suit that’s been suffocating him for the past three hours. He’s still sweaty and his hair is a mess after wearing the wig and fake beard combo for so long but he feels better once he’s changed back into his regular clothes.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Eddie stops for a moment. He looked so different dressed as Santa, could’ve been fooled by his own reflection wearing that costume. There’s no way Steve actually realised it’s him. Maybe what Eddie thought he saw in Steve’s eyes wasn’t recognition, but confusion.

They haven’t seen each other in years and apart from that, it’s not like they’ve ever been… close. Sure, Steve probably knew of him – they’ve both been somewhat popular in high school, although for very different reasons. But still. It was silly of Eddie to think the smile he gave him was one of familiarity. More realistically, it was just a silent thanks for how he handled the little girl’s nervousness, brought a smile to her face by playing into her childlike wonder.

And that’s okay.

In the end, Eddie did have a great time pretending to be Santa for a while. He’ll never tell Wayne, though, unless he wants to hear his old man tell him ‘I told you so‘.

With his shift done, Eddie strolls around the still brimming main hall of the community centre, looking at a stand with wooden figurines where a beautifully carved dragon caught his eyes.

He’s so fascinated by it, that he doesn’t notice the person coming up to him, until a hand taps his shoulder lightly.

When he spins around, he finds Steve standing next to him.

   “So, what brings you back to this shithole?“ he asks through a laugh, casual, like it’s normal for the former King and King of Freaks to have a conversation.

   “I, uh,“ Eddie stammers, staring at Steve a little star struck and maybe a little more in love because there’s that smile again and it’s blinding like the fucking sun and this time, he doesn’t have the Santa suit to blame for the fucking heat spreading in his face.

    God, grow up Munson. You’re an adult. Behave like one.

   “I’m visiting my uncle.“

   “How is Wayne? I was a bit worried when I realised that-“ Steve leans closer to whisper in his ear and Eddie’s heart stops for a moment. “-Santa sent someone else to cover for him.“

There are a million thoughts running through Eddie’s mind – since when are Steve and Wayne on first name basis? So Steve did recognise him? And why’s it so fucking hot in here?

   “You were great, by the way. I’d have lost it at some of the parents. They can be worse than their spoiled little brats sometimes.“

Eddie chuckles nervously, shrugs his shoulders and waves a hand at Steve who moves back slowly but stays close, so close Eddie catches a hint of his cologne, mingling with the Christmassy smell of oranges, and cinnamon, and apple tea, and it makes him dizzy but not in a bad way.

“Robbie wouldn’t shut up about Santa,“ Steve winks at him, “said he’s the coolest, even cooler than the tooth fairy. And let me tell you, that’s a real compliment.“

They both laugh and it feels so light and freeing; Steve makes it seem so easy to fall into conversation with him.

   “She’s a sweet kid and she loves you a lot, I can tell.“

    Loves you so much she’s wasting her Christmas wish on your happiness, Eddie thinks fondly, biting his tongue not to accidentally spill their little secret.

   “Yeah, well. She doesn’t have much choice. She’s stuck with me, since her mother decided to-“

   “Dad!“ a voice calls from somewhere behind them and when they turn, they see Robbie running up at them.

   “Speaking of the Devil,“ Steve sighs amused before opening his arms to catch her.

   “Who’s your friend?“

   “This is Eddie. We’ve been to school together. He’s grandpa Wayne’s nephew.“

    Grandpa W-hat?

Eddie must be having a stroke. Or maybe something’s wrong with his hearing because… WHAT?

Steve must realise something when he notices Eddie’s confusion, because he suddenly blushes a deep shade of red and smiles awkwardly at him.

   “S-sorry, I thought you knew that, uh-“ Steve takes a deep breath before he continues, “Your uncle has been helping me out a lot when I moved back to Hawkins a few months ago. You know, uh, setting up the house and watching Robbie when I had to go to interviews and couldn’t find a babysitter. He, uh, he’s been a real help. Robbie’s obsessed with him. Aren’t you, baby?“

   “He’s awesome! And he makes the best hot chocolate in the world! With little marshmallows and sprinkles on top!“

Eddie feels like he’s been hit by a truck, feels betrayed by the man he’s been looking up to his whole life.

   Wayne Munson, you son of a potato farmer, are living a secret life where Steve’s daughter calls you grandpa?

    Oh, Eddie’s going to have a field day confronting him with that.

   “Right?! The best hot chocolate ever! I always have mine with whipped cream on top,“ Eddie answers equally enthusiastic, doesn’t even have to pretend despite his inner turmoil because that little girl’s smile is infectious.

While listening to Robbie’s happy babbling, Eddie watches Steve from the corner of his eyes. He still looks a bit like a kid caught stealing cookies, but slowly relaxes, and that’s good, but-

Wayne definitely has some explaining to do. His uncle has always been a fucking saint, can’t not offer his help when he feels like someone’s in need of it. But it being Steve of all people, really messes with Eddie in a weird way he can’t really explain.

He needs to know more.

   “How about we all go to Wayne’s together? I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you. What do you say?“

[twistedpink]

Mc inserts x TWST characters pt.2

(non-yuu pairings that fit into the plot of twst, if you like this then you might want to look at the first part!)

Savanclaw!Mc x Cater Diamond

Enemies to lovers with your favourite diva!! The two of you compete constantly through magicam and spelldrive, getting progressively pettier until the only solution is to kiss it out.. You’re trying to keep an ear out for your junior, and it just so happens Cater’s sniffing out your plan to go for gold in this year’s tournament. You might as well take the chance to mess with him! It’s so easy to love the face he makes when you give him the slip, and you’re totally making it your wallpaper when this is all over.

“Yo, Babe! If you’re in the same dorm, then you know Ruggie, yeah? We need to have a chat”

“Ohmigod you totally think all beastmen know each other, don’t you?? cancled :)”

Shroud!Mc x Vil Schoenheit

Ids attached himself to engineering and gaming pretty early, but your passion is fully unattainable. You’d clung onto pop idols and the art of stage makeup from an early age. Your longest running interest by far is Vil Schoenheit,, He rescued you from destructive habits and encouraged you to value self improvement. You’ve probably invested millions into his career (every thaumark sent anonymously, you’d die if he started to recognize your attached messages). Supporting Ortho in his SDC audition is your official reason to talk with him, and all the teasing from Idia will be so worth it when your Schoenheit debut palette gets signed! You’ve kept it in mint condition behind glass for years admiring it- and waiting for THE day.

“Mr. Schoenheit? My younger brother performed for you today, and uh, your signature please?”

“Normally I’d send both of you home for this. I’m sure you’re well aware of my paparazzi policy, However, I haven’t seen this particular relic in years! Just what have you done to preserve the quality?”

Pomefiore!Mc x Ruggie Bucchi

You’re #1 in the business of pissing off your parents- shopping copious amounts and then going to school across the country satiated you for awhile, but they’ve done something particularly revenge worthy now. The best scandal you can think of is getting a trashy boytoy to bring home for the break, but you’re not really into idiots.. Ruggie can be a very good actor given the right motivations, and he might even fool you into a real relationship before next semester.

“C’mon it’s not like I’ll need a script, sugar. I’m a natural, scout’s honor!”

“Either way, it won’t hurt to rehearse for convenience :/ Kiss me now so we don’t look stupid later.”

Scarabia!Mc x Floyd leech

God you hate that fish faced idiot >:( It’s bad enough that the housewarden’s moodswings guaranteed your holiday plans were all shot, but now Jamil’s getting hounded by the mafia! It’s your responsibility to get them off his back, but it’s not like you’re enjoying it. Somehow it’s even worse to watch Floyd when he’s playing dumb, and his emotional roller coaster keeps you walking on eggshells. The show must go on though, and if you’ve gotta play “wrestle until the biting stops” then you’ll do it :/

“Floyd, it’s dinner time, and I will tear you a new one if it means you’ll get moving.”

“PLEASEEEE tiger sharky just one more round :( I’ll even give your pen back!!”

Octavinelle!Mc x Kalim Al-Asim

You’re probably one of the most talkative of octavinelle students, and definitely a solid salesman. Kalim’s a prime target for resales and marketing practice, so naturally you join the pop music club. A year of “playing nice for the jackpot” leads you to lie awake at night, terrified that he’ll see through your facade and ditch you- it would cut off your best friendship, you’d be forced to leave the club! At some point you realize you’d stopped selling him things months ago, and your worst nightmare happened right under your nose. You fell in love.

“Hey, that solo was so inspiring! You’re really making progress!”

“It still isn’t on par with yours, though. Are you available to keep practicing after school? I’m sure Jamil would appreciate the break, and I would enjoy the company..”

Staff!Mc x Lilia Vanrouge

Of course your first job would come with some pet bat, it was too good to be true :( Full time at a bits and bobs shop near one of the best schools in the country WITH flexible hours? You must’ve been desperate to accept without reading about your babysitting in the footnote. He comes in everyday during your shift (regardless of the hours you take, it’s like he has a sixth sense), and has the audacity to exist in your space! It’s not like he even does anything to get banned!! He just stands there. Menacingly. You’re waiting for the day where he leaves convincing evidence that he’s there to traffic you or something- because if you didn’t know better you’d think he has a big, fat crush on you.

“Darling, how is the shop? I’ve taken care of those juvenile delinquents for you!”

“Taken care of? Whatever. Get back to class, kid.”

[carlos-in-glasses]

Rhythms

120k, 17 chapters all written, E, updates on Sundays on Ao3.

TK swoons when he discovers a sentimental scrapbook full of notes he and Carlos have left for each other – but he also unearths a book of poems that closeted teen-Carlos wrote about his struggles, including a few dedicated to his high school crush. An adorably mortified Carlos recalls the stir he caused when he was published anonymously in the high school paper, and everything he went through to write his wedding vows for TK years later. With TK as a hype-man, maybe Carlos can embrace his creative side again.

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1 - Love Heart: The day after TK and Carlos’ first wedding anniversary, TK is sent home from work sick. Back at the loft unexpectedly, he makes a surprising discovery about Carlos.

Chapter 2 - Club Can't Handle Me: In 2011, sixteen-year-old Carlos is both in the closet and in his high school’s wrestling team – and it’s all a bit too much. Perhaps against his better judgment, he turns to poetry and makes a decision that will change his life.

Chapter 3 - Crossroads: Daydreaming about his wedding vows mid-drive, Carlos gets pulled over for a traffic violation – and Gabriel isn’t happy. Reunited with TK, Carlos might be lost for words, but he finds another way to express his love and desire.

Chapter 4 - The Wrestler: Carlos’ poems are published – and he quickly learns there’s no putting the genie back into the bottle.

Chapter 5 - A Gay Fantasia: In the aftermath of being abducted by a serial killer, Carlos reflects on recent events and resumes work on his wedding vows.

Chapter 6 - La Tormenta: Carlos is devastated when Scott gets a girlfriend, and he finds himself in another snowballing situation.

Chapter 7 - Soulmates: When TK has a Huntington’s disease scare, Carlos finds he knows exactly what to say. But will it help him with his writer’s block when it comes to his wedding vows?

Chapter 8 - Man of Mystery: It’s the day of the Lake View High School Talent Show – and will the real Shadow Poet please stand up?

Chapter 9 - Crush: In 2011, it’s make or break for sixteen year old Carlos at the talent show. In 2024, TK becomes the hype man Carlos had needed over a decade ago.

Chapter 10 - From Behind: A couple of weeks before the wedding, Carlos is still working on his vows when a deeper rift develops between him and his dad. In 2012, seventeen year-old Carlos is spiraling after coming out to his parents.

Chapter 11 - The Other Wrestler: TK decides to lift Carlos’ spirits by learning how to wrestle.

Chapter 12 - Carlos Reyes Will Be Okay: At Gabriel’s funeral, Carlos regrets saying no to reading a poem in tribute – but during the wake, he finds himself under a whole new pressure. Later that night, he realizes the vows he’s worked so hard on for TK cannot be spoken yet.

Chapter 13 - The Closet: Despite some good news, Carlos ends up in the doghouse with his mom and with TK.

Chapter 14 - Once in a Blue Moon: Reeling from his confrontation with Andrea, Carlos seeks advice and admits a secret.

Chapter 15 - Raining on Prom Night: In May 2012, chaos erupts at Carlos’ senior prom.

Chapter 16 - Tyler Kennedy Strand: The wedding day arrives, and Carlos finally gets to recite his vows to TK.

Chapter 17 - Shadow Poet: Carlos attends his poetry reading with TK by his side and some important people in the audience – but will he actually perform this time?

“I was just remembering–” Carlos says, “The first time you stayed for a while after one of our hookups. It was, like, the third time we hooked up, I think. I asked if you wanted tea and cookies and you looked at me like I’d said the weirdest thing ever.”

TK’s exhausted, puffy face breaks into a dazzling grin. “You were being such a Boy Scout.”

“But then you said yes and you ate half the cookie jar.”

“You called me the Cookie Monster.”

“That was the first time I really made you laugh.”

“Tea came out my nose.”

“It was beautiful,” Carlos says, pausing then to qualify: “Your laugh.”

TK gazes up at him, his clear green eyes large and shining. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“The first time you made me laugh was when we were dancing at the honky-tonk.”

“Hey!” TK swats his arm. “I was trying my best!”

“You were so goofy,” Carlos chides. “I just loved it. I loved you.”

Read on Ao3

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 3

I'm living for the love for this story!! Thank you everyone!

I'm sorry to say that any requests to be added to the tag list will be ignored. It's all full up! But! You can follow me and put on notifications. That seems to work for most people!

In this we have a lot of growing pains and the girls try everything they can think of to keep Eddie home.

Part 1 Part 2

~

The next couple of days were spent ironing out of the kinks and setting expectations. Like when Steve scolded Janice for pulling on Joan’s braids and she yelled back that she wasn’t the boss of her.

Both girls went running to their dad.

Eddie looked down at his two little sun spots. “I don’t know why you’re coming to me about this, if Steve saw Jannie pulling Joanie’s hair, then he had every right to call it out. Just like Chrissy, just your uncles. He is in charge while I’m gone, so you better get used to his authority. Both of you girls go sit on your time out chairs for five minutes.”

Both girls gasped in shock, but after an intense showdown, they did as they were told.

“Thanks for that,” Steve said with a huff. “There’s always a little bit of give and take for first couple of weeks, and you laying down the law will really help that.”

Eddie smiled up at him. “It’s just been a tough year for them both. They’re old enough to remember Ethan, but young enough that it’s all the good and none of the bad. So they don’t understand why he left. I’ve been talking to a couple of therapists that think once they’re a little older, they want to start seeing both girls.”

“Nothing quite as traumatic as abandonment issues from an early age,” Steve said with a nod.

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Sounds like you’re talking from experience.”

Steve sat down on the sofa with a sigh. “Unfortunately, yes. Only my parents did just enough to make sure I wasn’t taken away from them. Making sure their trips would only last long enough that it would be considered child abandonment and endangerment. Sending me gifts for my birthday and Christmas, but not being there.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Then as I got into high school, sending me money for groceries and gas. As well as a hefty allowance to make sure that I wouldn’t talk. ‘Let’ me throw lavish parties and then ground me when they found out. Only they would pack up and leave, knowing I’d ignore the grounding because they were gone. Just a bunch of stupid shit like that.”

Eddie’s expression softened. “In the Hall of Fame of shitty parents, that’s really up there, man.”

Steve let out a huff of bitter laughter. “I got the last laugh though. The second I turned eighteen and finished school, I told them I was running away with my best friend and joining the circus. Then I told them I was bisexual and never looked back.”

“So how was the circus?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“Not as fun as you’d expect,” Steve conceded. “Robin and I didn’t have anything like skills to be a performer, and wasn’t experienced in running the booths and rides, so we were part of the put up and take down crew.”

“So how did the nanny thing come about?” Eddie asked, crossing his legs and leaning his elbow on the arm of the chair.

“I used to babysit these kids when I was younger,” Steve said, putting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, “and when the one’s dad died and left a hefty life insurance to his mom. She suddenly was overwhelmed and hired me to nanny for her.”

Eddie thought back to the resumé the agency had sent over. “Mrs. Henderson, right?”

“That’s the one,” Steve leaned back on the sofa. “Dustin was a good kid. Too smart and arrogant for his own good.”

“Then of course, Mrs. Henderson recommended me to her friends,” Steve said. “One of them said they would only hire me through an agency. My ex-girlfriend happened to work at a nanny agency while she was going to school and offered to put in a good word for me.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “That was nice of an ex. I don’t know if I have any exes that would do the same for me.”

Steve just shrugged. “We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms either, but I used to babysit her younger siblings and knew how good I was. Nancy Wheeler is nothing but logical. She knew I would be good at it.”

“I spoke to a Nancy earlier,” Eddie said thoughtfully. “She really went to bat for you.”

“That’s Nance for ya,” Steve huffed. “Tenacious to a fault. This is her last semester at college and then she’s going to go to Emerson to get her journalism degree. She wanted to get her generals out of the way so she wasn’t paying out the ass for them.”

Eddie smiled. “Looks like I really lucked out then.”

“I guess you did,” Steve said softly. “I did too. Having you here these last couple of days have really helped out. They are still going to have the worst meltdowns during that first week you’re gone, but knowing you’ve already set the boundary they’ll only butt against it instead crossing it.”

Eddie smirked. “They’ve chased off nannies before. It’s why I have a very specific list of do’s and don’t’s with anyone I hire.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it,” Steve chuckled. “Normally, I’d put them to bed, but because it’s your last night with them, I’d suggest you do it.”

“Of course,” Eddie said softly. “Thank you for taking good care of them, Steve. I’m really grateful to be leaving them in such capable hands. I don’t want to go on this tour, not really. But I need a break. I love my girls, but with Ethan leaving it feels like he took away my right to chose how to live my life.”

Steve got up and moved to the desk and sat down on it half way. “But at least you have the money and the wherewithal to make sure they are taken care of. Every parent needs a break once in awhile. You’ll go out there make your fans happy and then when you come back, you’ll appreciate them all the more for leaving.”

Eddie looked up at him, then his eyes fluttered shut. He pursed his lips together and leaned his head back. He opened his eyes to look at him again. “You don’t think I’m being a bad parent?”

“It does you no good to burn yourself out,” Steve soothed. “It would do them more harm if you burned out and couldn’t take care of them anymore.”

“I love them so much,” Eddie said, his lower lip quivering. “But not having any help except Chrissy occasionally made it hard.” Tears trickled down his cheeks.

Steve pulled out a tissue and handed it to him. Eddie let out a watery chuckle. “You didn’t have anyone close that could help you?”

Eddie wiped his eyes and shook his head. “My former bandmates kinda scattered all over the globe. Gareth in Wales where his family is from, Jeff in New York, and Brian in LA. My uncle, Wayne broke his leg just after Ethan left and he’s just barely moving around without a cane. I couldn’t make him watch two rambunctious four year olds.”

He let out a shuddering breath and then another. “A lot of the nannies we had kept trying to be their mother. One was even caught trying to teach Joanie to call her Mama.”

“That’s rough,” Steve murmured. “But I’m here to help you. I’m not going to try and replace you as their dad. Or even Ethan, really. I’m just an extra person you can rely on.”

“You don’t mind setting up the household staff do you?” Eddie asked, his voice still rough from the crying. He blew his nose and then threw the tissue away in a nearby garbage. “It’s just that I want people that will work well with you and not try to fight you on every little thing.”

Steve shook his head. “No I get it. Plus getting help for a place as big as this one, I’d need the help otherwise I’d wear myself out before you got home.”

Eddie chuckled. “Do you like the house? Some of the other nannies thought it was creepy.”

“Mr. Muns–” Steve began but Eddie cut him off.

“Call me Eddie,” he said softly. “Mr. Munson makes me feel old and I’m not ready for that yet.”

“All right, Eddie,” Steve murmured back, “I think it’s spooky in a fun way. It’s not creepy. It’s beautifully decorated. I’ve seen creepy. Like tiger and elephant heads mounted on the walls with fully stuffed birds and in one horrifying case a Tasmanian wolf.”

“Aren’t those extinct?” Eddie asked with a grimace.

“Oh yeah,” Steve said, moving to sit on on the desk all the way, to put some distance between them. Before he did something stupid like kiss his boss. “I made sure to report his taxidermy to the Feds on the way out.”

“Brutal.”

“Dude was creep and his wife wasn’t much better,” Steve said with a shrug. “I felt sorry for their kids. They didn’t deserve having parents like those.”

“What made you leave?” Eddie asked, honestly curious on how Steve could have gone through so many clients considering he didn’t seem very old.

Steve kicked his feet a little, careful not to kick Eddie. “They aged out of needing one. They were already pre-teens when I got hired. They basically only needed someone to pick them up from school and make them dinner before their parents came home.”

“How long were you with them?” Eddie asked, more to keep Steve there then any real curiosity he had. Yeah, he had been curious about what made him leave, but this was blatant flirting at this point.

Steve laughed. “What’s this, more interview?” he teased. “No, in all seriousness, it was about a year. Most of my clients only need me temporarily anyway. I’m pretty sure that for at least three of them, their friends or family got to them about me being a guy, because they hired a female nanny soon after.”

“That’s bullshit,” Eddie huffed. “I’m sorry that they kept doing that to you. If anyone says anything to you, send them my direction. I’ll set them straight.”

“Thanks,” Steve murmured. He checked his watch. “It’s about time for me to make dinner.”

Eddie nodded and watched him leave. Once Steve had closed the door to his office behind him, Eddie put his head in his hands. It was so hard to keep his hands to himself when Steve was that close.

He just hoped that the three months he was going to be gone would be enough to put out the fire in his gut for his new nanny for fuck’s sake. He needed to get laid, Jesus fucking Christ!

The rest of the night passed with relative ease. Steve made meatloaf and garlic mashed potatoes with corn on the side.

Night time went well, too. Both girls drifting off to sleep quickly.

Morning, though? That was what was fraught with difficulties and tantrums.

Joan refused to get dressed, flopping on the floor and sobbing uncontrollably. Janice dumped her cereal on the floor, kicking and screaming like a toddler. Joan threw herself at the door while Janice tried to hide Eddie’s shoes.

Eddie stared Janice right in the eye as he pulled out another pair of shoes out of his carry-on. And then another out of his suitcase. He put the shoes back in the suitcase, but pulled on the shoes from his carry-on. All while Janice stood there with her jaw on the floor.

Steve pulled Joan away from the door so Eddie could open it and both girls started crying. Eddie hugged and kissed each girl goodbye.

Steve picked up both girls and held them up to the window so they could wave goodbye as Eddie drove off.

He set them down and they both flopped on the floor like ragdolls. He let them lay there for awhile, even taking advantage of Joan not moving to get her dressed. He put his hands on his hips it was going to be a long week. A very long week.

~

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

10- @kultiras @morallyundefined @ollieolive @themoonagainstmers @tartarusknight

[gguk-n]

Chapter 2- Secret and Surprises

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N has lost out on a few of her publication dreams while juggling 2 jobs. Her crush on Max has only led to failed relationships. She dreams of one day meeting and being with Max. But Max has a girlfriend and a career she knows nothing about.

{Reader's POV}

I finally moved out from my parents's place a few years back when I decided to pursue Literature. It was a very difficult time for me but I had Max by my side. Trying to convince my parents that I want to understand the art of writing and then doing what I love was very challenging. I moved to a another city with my dream university. Even today, they detest my choices and hope that I would take my life seriously. It has been difficult but seeing them once or twice a year only has made it easy.

Max and I are still very close. I still have a crush on him; it got worse after we started video calling each other after I moved out. I wasn't about to get 'caught' talking to a guy under my parents's roof. The consequences would be disastrous. Max is still the same, slightly older, has a stubble. I still don't know his full name, but he doesn't know mine either and I don't mind keeping it that way.

Having Max as a friend has hindered quite a few relationships either because they weren't him or they were jealous of some guy I would drop everything for. He still has a horrible sleep schedule, I've scolded him a couple time, but he doesn't listen. However, he has the cutest cats, Jimmy and Sassy. They love their dad a lot; I really wanna get cats too but I'm barely keeping myself alive, I'll kill my pets.

My job pays shitty, I'm a primary school teacher and freelance editor. I had hoped that being an editor for bigger and well established authors would help me improve my writing and get my book or poems published; has yet to happen. All my clients are kind people and very understanding of my predicament. Alas, this doesn't leave me much time in the day; teaching, lesson planning, correcting papers, editing other's stories or poems, talking to Max. Max has gotten pretty good about not disappearing like he did a couple years back. I still have no clue what he does, not like he knows what I do specifically. But he said he does something along the lines of cars; I knew he loved cars. I hope his job pays him better since he moved a few years back when I was still at home. His place looks lavish, either he gets paid well or it's from the company. I will never know. He's seen the shit hole I live in, but has yet to comment on my poor living conditions. I have too much of an ego to let my parents know I am struggling; I would rather starve then let them know. All I would hear is that they were right and I should mend my mistakes. What mistakes should I mend when these were my choices and I'm happy with them.

I've compiled 20 of my poems and even wrote a book, I've sent it to so many publishers in hopes that it will get picked up. This is like my fourth or fifth time. I mean, I haven't exhausted my resources and till the day all the publications shut down I'm not giving up. I've been rejected quite a few time, sometimes at the initial stages or after first reading and preview. They make publishing a book look so easy on shows and movies. I wish it was that easy in real life, but it isn't.

Being on spring break makes it so much easier for a while, till I have to return. However, I can focus on my book and the editing gig since it pays better than teaching. There's this guy I'm editing for currently and he's so annoying. I want to stop working with him except he pays the best. The life of being chained to capitalism. I was fixing up his errors when my phone rang, it was Max on video call. We spoke on video call a lot after I moved out. He's attractive, blue eyes; truly all my weaknesses combined. When the screen popped up, he almost fell out of frame when Jimmy jumped on the phone. Max placed Jimmy on the floor. Max- Hey, Schat. Sorry about Jimmy. Y/N- Hi, honestly I would rather talk to Jimmy. (I laughed) Max- Sometimes, I think you are friends with me for my cats. Y/N- Yeah, I would've stopped being your friend had you not adopted them. Max- Wow! I'm hurt. (He placed his hand on his chest) Y/N- Stop being dramatic. I'm just living vicariously through you. Max- You should get cats too, you seem lonely. Y/N- I wish, I'll end up killing them since I'm so busy. Max- hmmm, I hope you find a companion. I did find a companion Max, every time I get a boyfriend, we break up directly or indirectly because of you I thought. Max- What happened to Finn? I thought he was smitten for you. Y/N- Yeah, things didn't work out. We both were too busy with work. In actuality, when we finally got close after months of talking and the first time we had sex I moaned out Max's name. He left immediately. I wasn't about to tell Max this. It would ruin everything, I believe. Max- What were you doing? Y/N- Editing that ass's book. Max- You know maybe, you should leave some blunders, not the most obvious ones but one's that would make him look stupid. Y/N- I wish Max, he pays me a shit ton to do my job. (I laughed bitterly) It's fine, honestly. I'll be done soon and I'll never have to see him again, hopefully, fingers crossed. Max- I hope so too. Y/N- Max, you should date someone. Instead of worrying about me. I've never seen you date anyone in all the years I've known you. Max- ahh, yeah, I'm too busy with work to do that. Y/N- If we lived closer, I would've set you up with someone. That someone being me, but he doesn't need to know that. We haven't even met yet; we never even spoke about meeting each other honestly. Max scratched his neck, shaking his head. Max- I'm good, schat. You should find someone, maybe you'll stop being cranky. Y/N- I'm not cranky, at least not with you. Max let out a deep laugh. Max- Well, I've got to go. My sister's visiting. I'll talk to you later. Y/N- Sure, say hi to Victoria for me. Bye Maxie!! Max- bye Y/N.

Talking to Max always brightened up my mood. But since, Victoria's visiting, he won't be available to talk as often. That means I'm gonna have to spend all my free time scrolling through Instagram. It's all fun and games until I'm on hour 6 of some random video on Youtube. I spent the next couple of days cooped up in my home, just to enjoy waking up late. There were still a few months still summer break and I intended on enjoying them to the fullest.

School started way to soon for my liking. Max would send pictures of Jimmy and Sassy to cheer me up. It did cheer me up. Max travelled a lot for work, I've seen quite a few hotels and I think they are 5 star hotels. So, his work place is rich rich. I wish Max would hire me, I lamented, maybe then we might meet. I've thought about meeting him but he never showed any inkling that he would like to meet me. I wasn't about to seem desperate; I would probably jump him if I did. I mean he is single, so it's fine.

When the school started after spring break, I got handed a new author to help edit her work. I spoke to her and she was very nice to talk to. The book she was writing was based off a sport. On further questioning, she told me it was Formula One. I had heard about it when my city hosted a Formula E race a couple years ago. I don't remember much because I'm not sure if they held it again but what I can tell you is that traffic got so bad, I hated leaving the house for a couple of days. I don't really see the appeal of watching people go around in a circle in fast cars. I think I would panic if I found out how fast they drove. The author asked me to do some research on the topic. I was a good student and I wanted to be of help, so I decided to spend the next couple of hours going through Formula One and their rules.

There's something I have to clear up, I have a type of blindness bias. If I'm not interested in a topic, it would be like I live under a rock. Nothing could phase me and I couldn't care less. That's how I ended up on the wikipedia article of Lewis Hamilton, Micheal Schumacher and then current champion Max Verstappen. Schumacher and Hamilton were very good, reading about them made me awe struck. What really shocked me was a guy named Max Verstappen, who looked awfully like Maxie. I've stared at Maxie more than I would like to admit, so I'm sure they look alike. As I went through the article, my heart seemed to beat harder; not sure why. I felt like this was my Maxie however I believed that Maxie would've told me if he was a Formula One driver. I had to lay my doubts to rest, so I ended up on Youtube with the search bar reading Max Verstappen. My doubts laid to rest in a place I didn't want them to; Maxie was Max Verstappen. I could recognise that voice anywhere. He talked a lot, I could recognise his voice in a crowd of people or in my sleep. All my suspicions were cemented when I saw a picture of 2 cats who looked like Jimmy and Sassy and were called by the same name. My heart was ready to jump out of my chest. Max had lied to me; but was it really lying when I never prodded him for answers. Worst of all, he had a girlfriend and a kid. That's when I felt I was lied too. How could he not tell me? I would've genuinely been happy for him. We would've celebrated his 2 championship wins. My throat felt dry and my eyes wet.

Life wasn't fair when I've been trying to get my book published while my best friend, don't even know if I can call him that, is a 2 time world driver champion. He never even told me, while he has been in Formula One almost all our friendship and karting all his life. I felt the ground slipping from under my feet. Was I that unimportant to not share such a crucial part of his life or huge accomplishment in his life? Was I even his friend? All these questions raced through my mind, while tears streamed down my cheeks. The pillow wet from my tears when my phone rang. It was Max on the other line, and for the first time in 10 years I did not answer his calls even though it rang for a 4-5 times. He finally stopped after sending me a couple of worried messages; asking how I was and where I was?

[Max was freaking out. Y/N never missed his calls, no matter the time or place. Worst of all, she didn't even reply to his messages; not after 5 minutes or 10 minutes or 20 minutes. Max didn't know where she lived, he didn't know who to call, or who to ask about her. His hair was a mess, he was pacing the room so much so, that his girlfriend’s daughter asked him what happened. He couldn't tell them, no one knew of this secret internet friend he had. Who was he supposed to contact to file a missing person's report? He tried to calm himself down and think happy thoughts but all his thoughts were Y/N]

[swap-tech-enterprise]

Public Relations Internship Part A, Customer Swap Stories #2

My name is Michael and I am currently a junior public relations major at Penn State.

When the university announced they partnered with Swap Tech Enterprise (STE) and launched the “Semester in Their Shoes” program, I knew that I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity. I would spend the semester in the body of a recent graduate working full time in the public relations field letting me see the day to day life of someone who works in public relations looked like. While participating in the program, the work assigned to you would equate to some of the classes I should be taking but can’t while part of the program, so not only was I gaining real world experience in the field, but I also wouldn’t be missing any credits and would still get to graduate on time. As for the person I would be swapping with, they would get to spend a couple of months living my life and having a break for all the work they had to do. 

Once applications for the program opened I immediately applied in hopes to spend my spring semester working in Public Relations. After months of waiting to hear back, I finally received the email informing me that I was accepted and matched with someone for the swap. I was so excited I could barely contain my excitement in the days leading up to the swap. Finally, the day arrived and I headed down to the STE Swap Bank as instructed. I informed them that I was participating in the program through my school and they quickly gave me a run down of who I would be swapping with other information that I would need to know before the swap. After receiving all the information, the Swap Technician took me to the swap room and began prepping me for the swap. As they counted down, I was so excited that I didn’t even realize I lost consciousness once the Swap Tech’s countdown hit 0. As I opened my eyes, I noticed I was in a different room and knew the swap had worked. However, as I stood up from the bed, something was wrong. Looking down at my hands I noticed they were showing signs of aging, which shouldn’t be the case since I was supposed to be swapping with a recent graduate. I brought my hands to my chest and noticed that I was showing signs of aging as well as my body looked like it hadn’t stepped foot in a gym in years. I quickly ran to the mirror and was shocked by the face looking back at me. It wasn’t the face of a 24 year old recent graduate but that of what I could assume was a 50-55 year old man. 

Turns out that Chris, the manager of the public relations team I was joining couldn’t secure any volunteers for the swap, so he elected to step up instead. I started demanding that they swap me back now, but per the terms of the contract I signed when applying for the program, it stated that if no recent grad volunteers could be available, the head of the team could step up in their place. Upset with the circumstances, I reluctantly got dressed and headed to Chris’s apartment in Midtown, as I was now going to be living at his place in New York until the end of the spring semester in May.  I quickly took a picture and sent it to my parents, as they wanted to be updated once I was settled in.

To say my parents were shocked was an understatement, but they also knew the terms I agreed too when applying for the program and told to stick it out as May would come soon enough and I could get back to my body. They also told me they’d keep a close eye on Chris in my body to make sure he didn’t do anything I would regret after the swap so that calmed my nerves a bit. Figuring I had nothing better to do, I prepped for my first day on the job tomorrow. What should be an exciting time in my life has now been ruined and all I can do now is finish what I signed up for. God, May can’t come quick enough! 

[writingwithciara]

in the chaos, i have you -jamie drysdale-

summary: y/n and trevor are the most chaotic best friends & poor jamie has to be the level headed one when it comes to his girlfriend and his best friend

word count: 1.9k

pairings: jamie drysdale x reader, trevor zegras x platonic best friend reader

notes: this idea was sent in to me on my main blog as like, a blurb idea, but i wanted to create a whole fic centered on this. i'm sure someone else already has, but it's a good concept.

masterlist

y/n and trevor were inseparable when they met at the ripe old age of 9.

it was at a summer camp that y/n had been attending for 2 years and it was trevor's first summer there. she introduced herself when she saw him and they were the best of friends from that point forward.

the only bad thing about their friendship was the amount of chaos that followed them. if one of them got in trouble for something, the other was not far behind.

when camp was finished for the summer and they both went home, they were delighted to find out that y/n had moved to new york and was attending the same school as trevor.

they stuck together whenever they could and everyone that knew them had always assumed, naturally, that they’d end up together.

that is until trevor began to play for the nhl and had to move all the way to california. y/n had to stay behind with her parents while she finished school.

but as soon as she graduated, she headed right down to anaheim and secured a position working with the anaheim ducks.

when trevor saw her again in person for the first time, he abandoned his conversation with jamie and ran to hug her. he wrapped his arms around the girl tightly and smiled when she giggled.

“trev, put me down.” she smiled and looked at the boy standing behind her friend. “hi.” she greeted him shyly.

“hi.”

“oh. jamie, this is y/n. she’s my best friend from back home. y/n, this is jamie. he’s my best friend on the team.”

“it’s nice to finally put a face to the name. trevor talks about you all the time.” jamie smiles and shook her hand.

“does he?” she raised an eyebrow and looked at trevor.

“we have so many incredible stories and i felt that he needed to hear them.”

“okay fair enough.” she turned towards jamie. “we were pretty crazy back home.”

“there’s nothing wrong with a little crazy.” jamie chuckled. “i gotta run but it was nice meeting you.”

“you too. bye jamie.” y/n waved and watched him leave the arena. she walked with trevor to his car.

“need a ride somewhere?”

“if you don’t mind.” she climbed into the passenger seat and trevor drove her to her apartment. when they found out they were living in the same building, they were both excited.

so much chaos was about to ensue.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

the first few weeks in anaheim were stressful for y/n and she had managed to take her frustrations out on trevor. someone she had never expected to be angry at.

but her sudden outburst at him before a game had caused the only argument in their friendship, leading to her being stranded at the arena when the game was over.

she tried calling him to apologize, hoping he’d pick her up. but after 17 failed attempts and a text that was left on read, she tossed her phone in her purse.

she was exhausted and her apartment was a long walk from the arena. to add insult to injury, it was unusually cold for an anaheim fall day and y/n had not grabbed her jacket before she left the apartment so she was screwed.

she threw her purse over her shoulder and grabbed her phone, inserting her headphones in & preparing herself for the long walk ahead. just as she was about to walk out the front doors of the arena, she felt a hand grab her shoulder and spin her around. her first instinct was to hit the person who grabbed her.

“ouch.” jamie muttered while grabbing his shoulder.

y/n’s eyes widened when she saw jamie in front of her. she took her headphones out of her ears and smiled apologetically. “i am so sorry, jamie.”

“don’t apologize. i’m the one who scared you.” he returned the smile. “i couldn’t help but notice that trevor left already and i was wondering if you’d like a ride home.”

“i would appreciate it, but isn’t your apartment the complete opposite way?”

“yeah it is. but you look like you’ve had a rough day and it’s fairly cold outside. plus it’s a long walk so i feel like you could use something good tonight.”

“thanks, jamie.” she put her phone and headphones into her purse and followed jamie to his car. he held the door as she got into her seat and buckled herself in.

for most of the drive, it was silent. neither of them wanted to speak, in fear of saying something stupid. that is until jamie decided to speak up.

“so you and trevor...you guys aren’t....together, are you?”

“me and trev? god no. i wouldn’t be able to handle being with him.” y/n smiled. “why do you ask?”

“because the way he talked about you before. it was like he thought you hung the moon and the stars or something. i don’t know.” jamie shrugged and turned onto her street. “it’s a good thing you guys aren’t dating.”

“oh really? and why’s that?”

“because i wanted to ask you to dinner on friday.” he parked the car and looked over at the girl.

“okay. that sounds like fun.”

“awesome. um, we have practice until 3:30 but i can pick you up around 6, if that’s okay.”

“that’s perfect.” y/n unbuckled herself and reached for the door handle. before she exited the vehicle, she turned to jamie and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“what was that for?” he couldn’t help that his cheeks were turning a deep crimson shade.

“thank you for the ride home.” she got out of the car but before she closed the door, she smiled. “i can’t wait for our date on friday.”

jamie watched her disappear into the building. his hand reached up to the spot her lips were and he smiled. he couldn’t wait until friday.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

the date went great and after a few more dates, it wasn’t long before they became an official couple. reporters and paparazzi were calling them the ‘sweetest couple in the nhl’ & it was a moniker that y/n and jamie embraced with pride.

he enjoyed the fact that his fans loved her, simply because since their relationship became public, he had scored at least one goal in every game.

y/n made up with trevor the night after their fight and he assured her it wasn’t that serious. so when she and jamie told him about their relationship, he was excited. his two best friends were together. it was something he had wanted way before they met.

the three of them were inseparable.

but that only meant that jamie had to be the level-headed one because y/n and trevor would constantly pull pranks on everyone around them, him included.

when one prank got a little out of hand at a team banquet, jamie sat them both down and had to go full ‘dad mode’ on them.

“do i have to separate you guys or something? because what the hell was that you just tried pulling on mason?”

“it was a harmless prank, babe. believe me.” y/n looked at him and blinked as if she was an innocent child.

“you better hope he feels the same way about it or else i’ll have to seriously put an end to whatever you’re currently planning.” he sighed and put his hands on his hips. “do you understand?”

“yes dad.” they both groaned.

“okay good. now, trevor, go apologize to mason.”

“but it was y/n’s idea.”

“oh she’ll be apologizing after i talk to her. now go, please.”

“fine.” trevor walked towards mason and engaged in a conversation. jamie turned to y/n and shook his head.

“i know you guys were chaotic but i didn’t think it was gonna be this bad.”

“i’m sorry, okay? they’re never supposed to get out of hand. but it happens and i can’t control it.” she sighed and rested her hand on his shoulder. “from now on, i promise to keep the pranks to a minimum. and if it helps, i’ll take you off the list of victims we have.”

“okay. just try to behave for the rest of the night. that’s all i ask.”

“yes sir.” she winked and went over to mason to apologize. jamie looked around the room.

the damage from the prank wasn’t as bad as he had initially thought.

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“trevor, are you serious? i thought we had a deal.” jamie sighed and looked at his shirt. it was now stained with blue paint, courtesy of a prank trevor was pulling.

“it wasn’t meant for you, i swear.”

“who was it meant for?”

“hey guys. sorry i’m late. i just-“ y/n stopped in her tracks when she caught sight of jamie. “what the hell happened to you?”

“i was trying to pull a prank on you but jamie was the unfortunate one who walked into the living room. i thought it was going to be you. i thought i had timed it perfectly.”

“you’re an idiot.” y/n smiled affectionately and turned to jamie. “i’m so sorry, my love.”

“it’s not your fault. but the prank war between you guys needs to stop. it’s been going on too long.”

“it has not.” trevor butted in.

“3 months, trev. i’m so afraid to walk throughout the house,not knowing what’s going to hit me when i turn a corner or what’s gonna get spilled on me.”

“i’m sorry.”

“if you’re sorry, you’ll keep me out of the pranks. okay?”

“okay fine. we’ll be more careful then.”

“that’s all i ask.” jamie smiled. “i gotta go shower to get this paint off me.”

“coincidentally, i was planning on hopping in the shower when i got home. care to join me?” y/n smirked and headed towards the bathroom. jamie was quick to follow, leaving trevor to clean up the mess by himself.

“oh gross, guys.”

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y/n waited in her apartment patiently for jamie and trevor to return from practice. they were all supposed to be having a movie night but the boys were running late.

she checked her phone to see if either of them had called or tried to contact her in any way, but there was nothing.

a knock on the door 20 minutes later startled her. she went to open it and was met with two pies in the face. jamie and trevor walked into the apartment laughing.

y/n wanted to be angry but seeing how happy jamie was made her heart feel full.

"i'm sorry, babe. but i wanted to try a little prank. nothing too chaotic." he took a look at her as she wiped her face off. "you're not mad, are you?"

"no. but only because i see how much you enjoyed doing this. i'm so proud."

"right? i feel like such a proud father." trevor wiped the tears from his eyes and smiled. "glad you decided pranks were fun."

"i'll admit that they're fun when i'm not on the receiving end of one. and although i enjoyed this, i don't think i'm the kind of person who wants to do this all the time. but if you guys can make a promise to keep me out of your pranks, i won't be upset when you cause chaos elsewhere."

"okay. i promise." y/n and trevor looked at each other and smiled.

"okay perfect." jamie clapped his hands together and smiled. "now, who's ready for movie night?"

as jamie entered the living room, y/n and trevor shared a look that meant they had plans for more jamie-centered pranks, even if they had just promised to not involve him anymore.

turns out, they both had their fingers crossed behind their backs when they made that promise.

poor jamie had no idea what he was in for.

[galaxiasgreen]

🍭☀️A Cruelty Vivid and Sweet

Slow burn angsty Ominis x F!Reader [T-Rated, 7.8k words]

Letting himself embrace this horrid part of his heritage terrified him. It was like being back in the cellar again, that Muggle writhing beneath him in pain, his parents and brother lauding his name. Gaunt. No matter what he did to unbind himself from the bloodline, always it came back to shackle him. Always, it answered when he didn't call.

In which, even after he broke your friendship, Ominis can't get you out of his head.

Tropes: angst/ romance/ drama, slow burn, black cat x golden retriever, opposites attract, forbidden love, Scriptorium quest, Muggle culture, Your Scent in the Amortentia, Going Feral when You're Hurt, Comforting You When You're Sad.

[MASTERLIST][PREV][NEXT] [read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

2: When Everything Changed

You didn't speak to him for a long time.

Justifiably, Ominis knows. It's one thing to insult, degrade, demean someone, but something else entirely to diminish their very existence, to reduce them to flesh and bones and happenstance. You were Muggle-born, he was pure-blood. Your friendship together was as tenuous as life itself.

You didn't deserve risk, so he steeled his heart, his mind. He moved through the struggles of fourth year silently, like a wraith, participating only when needed. A clock was ticking for summer – he couldn't spend the entire holiday at Feldcroft, though he longed for it, though Sebastian offered. When the dread of it came, thick and drowning, it was the thought of you, what he was doing ultimately to protect you, that eased the pain. He didn't realise how deeply you had planted your vines inside him, so that everything he did now, anything he felt, or touched, or tasted, reminded him of you. You were ingrained, and no matter how hard he tried to uproot you, you would not wither.

Perhaps this was his reality now. Perhaps he would never speak to you again.

Naturally, fifth year changed everything.

The new school year rang with tension. A goblin tyrant, Ranrok, sought vengeance against wizardkind, with his influence strongest around the Scottish Highlands, scattered around the hamlets around Hogwarts. His plans were unclear, just another thing Ominis worried about, massaging his temple on the walk up to school for the first evening.

Sebastian wasn't in a talkative mood. He'd come to verbal blows with his uncle that afternoon, when Ominis was packing and keeping Anne company. Their voices were so raised they could be heard in the entire village.

"Stop getting her hopes up! For goodness sake, she's cursed. At least let her enjoy however long she has left in peace, without your meddling!"

"Meddling?" Sebastian scoffed. "She's my sister! I'll find a cure for her—"

"If St Mungo's Healers can't do it, no fifteen year-old boy will either."

"You might've given up, but I haven't."

"I've stopped trying to fill her head with false hope and nonsense!"

Anne's lethargic sigh had pulled Ominis away. "I'm so tired."

"You should rest."

"No." She fell back against the pillow. "I mean, of their arguing."

Truthfully, Ominis was tired of it too. He heard enough hatred at home, the few lonely weeks he had to spend there before absconding to Feldcroft. For the most part, his parents ignored him, though there were days they dragged him to dinners or parties with the other pure-blood families. He made sure to give the Malfoys as wide a berth as possible, even though Peregrine didn't bother him again.

"Can you promise me something, Ominis?" Anne had asked.

He'd pursed his lips. "That depends on what it is."

"You'll keep an eye on Sebastian this year." A wry laugh. "A metaphorical eye, that is."

He always intended to. The darkness was offering Sebastian solace, and he feared his best friend was diving down a path from which there was no return. How far would he be willing to go for Anne?

"I'll do my best."

"And... and talk to Gibby."

He hadn't heard your name all summer. It sent a frisson through him, equally terrifying and pleasant, and made to leave before an inevitable interrogation—

"Please," she said, stopping him. "Sometimes family isn't blood. Sometimes family is heart. And she is as much a part of yours as the rest of us are."

Yet, when he left with Sebastian an hour later, he adamantly reminded himself why he made that pact in the first place. He could not— would not talk to you, and rub raw a healing wound. Things were simply too dangerous to risk it, if not from Peregrine Malfoy, then from one of the other pure-blood families, the Lestranges, the Blacks, or the Fawleys.

When he and Sebastian arrived at the school, sun hushing the horizon, Ominis paid no mind to the knowledge that you were there, somewhere at the Hufflepuff table, enjoying the start of term without him. He took his seat next to his best friend and expected the same opening speech, Sorting Ceremony and feast.

Only there was one thing different.

Missy was what everyone called her. The nickname was sparked by rumour, as thick as honey – unlike yours, spurred by your actions, your quirks, Missy's had come before her, on the train up to Hogwarts, where all the fifth years spoke of a new student starting this year under the mentorship of Professor Fig.

Staring school so late, with the support of a prominent Hogwarts professor? That was unusual, she was unusual. A mystery.

Only when she appeared at the Sorting Ceremony, late, it was apparent she was anything but.

"There she is," Nerida crowed in the hum of chatter. "The new girl!"

"Her hair is amazing," said Violet, awed.

Ominis heard the new girl – like you, she had a distinctive set of sounds he could use to distinguish her from others. But unlike you, however, there was no naivety, no jolliness or upbeat wonder. There was only purpose, strong with each stride and levelled breath. Even as the interloper, and a late one at that, she acted like she already belonged.

His heart ached suddenly – the memory of the Undercroft tore at him, and he fought to keep it down, push away the strange sensation that came with thinking of you.

When the new girl was sorted into Slytherin, she sat next to Sebastian. "Hello." Her voice was distinctive too, well-spoken, eloquent, from wealth.

"The mystery student," Imelda said, clearly more impressed than she let on. "The whole year's been talking about you."

"Have they?" She didn't seem bothered by this at all. "Is that what I am? A mystery?"

"A real lady of mystery," said Sebastian, equally intrigued.

"Oh," said the mystery student, chuckling – Ominis caught threads of a sinister undertone. "I'm no lady. Miss is just fine."

"Well, then, Miss Mystery," Sebastian teased, "welcome to Hogwarts."

Ominis was too polite to ask what her real name was. It was too late now, anyway. The nickname stuck like mud, too fitting for a girl with an air of something otherworldly and powerful to be displaced. Your laughter bubbled in his head – maybe she would come to love the nickname as you did.

But there was no point thinking about you anymore. No point imagining what the future beheld for you.

Later that month, Ominis asked after what Missy looked like, if only to build a better picture of how different you were to one another, but Sebastian had only laughed.

"I'd tell you, but she changes her hair and eyes every day. Always in Snelling's Emporium. And her robes – she's never wearing them! Every class we go to she just puts on capes and hats and all sorts. It's a mismatch."

A very strange girl indeed, but not in the same way you were, in the same way you still are.

As the air began to chill, Ominis felt the change in his friend like frigid air on bare skin. He was warming to the new girl, more rapidly than Ominis expected – she invited him to Hogsmeade, joined his secret duelling club, stole him for night-time escapades and thirsted for knowledge only he could give. It seemed harmless enough at first, but the new girl had a particular sway, popular but not needy with the attention, mysterious but still generous with her time, and genial with her friends. Especially with Sebastian.

Worst of all, you were becoming her friend too. She was like the replacement for what you'd lost.

"Amortentia." Professor Sharp's voice carried through the Potions classroom one day, as October crept up the front lawns. "I'm sure you're all familiar with this, but for our new student's sake, could someone please refresh us on its properties?"

Unsurprisingly, Garreth spoke up. "It's the most powerful love potion in the world. It smells different to everyone according to what most attracts them."

"Very good. This is a potion we will be learning to brew in seventh year. As Mr Weasley has said, this is the most powerful love potion in the world." The last part he emphasised seriously. "It is not to be trifled with. Today, we will be brewing weaker love potions, but I am allowing you all to see for yourself the properties of Amortentia, so that you may recognise it outside the classroom. Dare I say, so you can protect yourself should anyone try to use it on you."

Sharp allowed them to gander at the potion as they brewed their own. The fifth-year girls were most excited, and as Ominis prepared his ingredients, the Hufflepuffs plus Missy headed up to the main station to have their turn.

Of course, you were amongst that group.

"Well, Missy?" you asked, as eager and animated as he remembered you to be. "What does it smell like?"

Missy took a whiff, then laughed.

"Secrets."

"Secrets don't have a scent," said Lenora haughtily.

"They do to me." She stood back, let you go ahead. "Go on then, Gibby, your turn. What does it smell like to you?"

Ominis struggled not to listen.

"Sweets." Of course it did. "Magic. You know, just the general scent of it. And..." Your voice turned tart. "Oil."

The giggling ceased. "Oil?" asked Adelaide.

"Oil," you confirmed, in a way that brooked no space for discussion.

What an absurd thing to find attractive. Did oil even have a scent? He pondered on this for a while, trying to untangle its meaning until their potions were neatly bubbling and Sebastian nudged him out of his thoughts.

"Want to go up next?"

They went after Everett declared his favourite scent to be broom handles ("Probably because that's the closest thing he'll ever get to a girl's touch," Sebastian muttered). Already the aroma was drawing him closer, a pleasant tickling like a silk robe on freshly bathed skin.

Sebastian inhaled deeply.

"Hmm."

"Well?"

"Old parchment," he said, "and hair dye."

Hair dye? "I've been told you were starting to grey."

"Funny. No idea why it smells like that."

But Ominis did. Just an inkling, anyway.

"Your turn." His friend stepped back. "You more than most anyone to know what it smells like."

Perhaps nothing, he thought in vain. It was a folly to think himself above such emotions. In fact, though his family may have tried to beat it out of him, it took strength to admit he had such a weakness at all. Since his sense of smell was more acute than most, it would've been strange, perhaps concerning, if there was no scent to the Amortentia at all.

So Ominis leant forwards and inhaled. The aroma was so heady he could get drunk on the smell alone.

"Honeysuckle," he murmured, probably because they grew around Feldcroft, and the memories were something he cherished. "Polished wood, like in a wandshop. And something... sweet." It was a sudden overwhelming note, and his voice grew hoarse. "It's very sweet. Something like—"

He iced over.

Strawberry laces.

"Something like...?" Sebastian said. "Your face has gone red."

"What?" Ominis drew back, willed the scent to disappear. "I— I don't recognise it."

Sebastian didn't say a word at first. Then came the insufferable chuckling beneath his breath.

"Ah, wait. Sweet, was it?"

"I said I don't recognise it." And when Sebastian went to speak again, Ominis quickly snapped, "Not another word."

But he knew, when his friend lapsed into contented, smug silence, this was by far the last time they'd have this conversation.

Without meaning to be, without even being there, you were a cruelty, vivid and sweet, and no matter what he did, he was powerless beneath your spell.

But with tensions rising in the world, he could not afford to think about you. He couldn't afford to think about what your scent in the Amortentia meant for his confused, muddled feelings.

By chance, he got the opportunity to think elsewhere the next day, when a letter arrived – from Gringotts, of all places. The braille glided beneath his fingertips, and he realised it was a will, his Aunt Noctua's will. It was getting to the point where she'd been missing longer than she had not, and his parents had finally bowled through solicitors and admin to snatch the last of the pittance from her vault. With no next of kin, she had given most of it to Ominis, though the money wasn't actually his until he turned seventeen.

Truthfully, the worst part was he could barely remember Noctua's voice anymore. He wondered constantly where she had gone, why she'd left him with her horrible brother and family. Once when he was eight, when a hopeful innocence still sang through him, Noctua had come to watch over him as his parents and siblings attended a society event in London. A pure-blood ball, he was told. Adults talking about adult things, how dull. As the youngest, Ominis hadn't been permitted to go, but he didn't mind so much when he got to spend time with his whacky aunt.

He was practicing his braille as Noctua tidied about the room.

"They'll be back after sundown," she was saying, "so make sure you're finished before then."

"Isn't it midday?"

"It's one."

"So I have lots of time."

"Yes," she said mirthfully, "but I want to take you to the village later today."

The village? "That's the Muggle place, and Father says I shouldn't go near them. They're all stupid anyway. Like pigs."

"Is that what he said?"

"Yes."

A creak as she sat on the bench next to him. Her hand ran down his back.

"You should know, Ominis, that not everything your father says is true. Muggles aren't anymore stupid than wizards are. They're hardly different from us at all."

The comment, harmless in retrospect, felt like an affront to everything Ominis knew. "But they don't have magic. That makes them stupid."

"It doesn't make them stupid. You don't have your sight. Does that make you stupid?"

"No," he said at once, indignant.

"So you understand. What we have and do not have doesn't matter. It is how we choose to live that does. In the end, we all return to the earth in the same way, flesh and skeleton."

That didn't make sense to him. "But how do they do anything if they don't have magic?"

"Well, you're learning your braille now, aren't you? They find ways to do things that work for them." She stood. "Tell you what, why don't we go to the village now? You can finish your work later."

Ominis agreed. He wanted to know, after all, if what Noctua said was true. She dressed him down for it, cotton and breeches and a woollen coat that drowned his arms, and they headed out before the clock struck two, Ominis clutching her hand as the wind bandied playfully with his hair. It didn't take them long to walk, though he detected so many new scents, new sounds. Wheat fields susurrating within musky spruce fences, crackling bonfires and burnings that pumped smoke into the sky. They reached a low stone wall that bordered the village river, cold against Ominis' hands, before Noctua hushed him.

"Do you remember the rules around Muggles?"

"No talking about the M-word," he said diligently, "or that we are the W-word."

So Noctua took him on a stroll through the market. He was surprised at the atmosphere, busy but not bustling. Horses clattered against cobblestone, ivy rustled against houses with rooves made of thatch. Knives slammed down on meat and fish, and there was bartering, so much bartering, for the best cuts and lowest prices.

"Come off it, Dave. Two shillings for that? You must be joking."

"Ain't no joke. Gotta' keep the lights on somehow, don't I?"

They chuckled, even though Ominis didn't understand why, until he remembered Muggles simply couldn't call upon light whenever they wanted. They had to rely on candles and hearths and gas lanterns. They had to rely on their own labour to make ends meet and provide for their children.

A thread of something fresh caught Ominis' nose then, and he turned towards the scent. Warm bread, just baked.

"Want some?" asked Noctua.

His family teachings came to him. Make no disturbance of your betters. "No thank you."

"Are you sure?"

It did smell nice, but he worried about whether Muggle bread was poison for wizards. Still, Noctua took him into the bakery, and thought terror laced through his fascination, he took the bread Noctua paid in their strange Muggle money and eagerly bit into the crust. It was warm and buttery and filled his belly to full – and best of all, it tasted like regular bread. No poison.

"Ah, born like that, was he?" said the baker.

Noctua seemed so at ease with them. "Yes, he's practicing braille at the moment."

"Oh, now, that's wonderful. Keep at it, lad. You'll do great."

"Thanks," Ominis managed. He'd never spoken to a Muggle before. He didn't know Muggles learnt braille too.

Noctua took him back outside as he finished the last of his bread. "Well? What do you think?"

The general mood was buoyant and hopeful. Not everyone was affluent, yes, but there was something wonderful in the way they worked tirelessly to get what they wanted. If the air smelt the same, the food tasted the same, the people merry and sad and angry the same...

"It's a bit like Hogsmeade," he admitted at last, because that was all he had to compare it to.

"So you see, then," said Noctua, a twinkle in her voice. "Not so different after all."

Only when they got back to the house, Ominis not entirely convinced but probing for more, he felt a shift in the air like claws on his shoulders. His parents had arrived home early, as had Marvolo and his noisy sneer.

"At the village, I see," his father barked. Then, "Ominis, to your room. Now."

Ominis knelt to the ground and pressed an ear to the crack under his door so he could hear the argument in the foyer below.

"You will do well to remember that he is my son, and I will not have you traipsing him around in Muggle slums!"

"Do you want him to be so completely unaware of the surrounding world? He'll have to live outside these walls one day."

Marvolo scoffed. "The boy is blind, Noctua."

"In sight, not in head," she retorted. "Though he will be if you all keep treating him this way."

It was nice to hear her support him, and from then on he enjoyed her company a lot more. She had so much wisdom to share, about the Muggle world, about his family, about the dark secrets that followed the Gaunts like shadow. When she went missing, he despaired in his bedroom alone, knowing all too well no one but him would care. It was only until that will arrived, balling up any last hope that she was alive, that he decided to shut the door on her disappearance once and for all – by chasing the information she'd last shared with him.

Salazar Slytherin's Scriptorium.

It hadn't been an immediate decision. Once he told Sebastian of the Scriptorium, and his aunt's futile quest to find it, Sebastian hounded him for weeks, desperate to seek it himself. Ominis shut down his questions, even though, secretly, he wanted answers himself.

Missy managed to convince him – if only because she reinforced how important it was for Sebastian to find a cure for Anne, something that was possible with the secrets of the Scriptorium. And, well, to sate his own curiosity Ominis wouldn't be moved, but for Anne, whom he loved as much as Sebastian did, he agreed to make an effort. He would put aside his distaste for the Dark Arts for closure.

"Don't mistake my agreeing to go as thinking this is a good idea. I'm only going to ensure you don't get into some sort of trouble."

Missy's voice turned upwards with agreement. "You've made the right decision."

On the other hand, his was rueful. "I hope we don't regret this."

They waited until nightfall. It should've been no trouble to get there for the three of them, since the Scriptorium's entrance was next to their common room – but come the clock chimes at midnight Missy was nowhere to be found. Sebastian paced in wait as Ominis pressed a heel to the wall where the secret door lay, trying to sense any vibrations beneath. Boot steps heading towards them snagged his attention.

But there were two pairs. The first, Missy's forceful strides. The second—

You.

Instantly he recognised it. The bounce of your curls. The clatter of your glasses. The shoes, merrily clacking against stone. The scent of you, so sweet and innocuous, and yet like pure ecstasy.

You startled at the same time he did, standing upright.

"Gibby—"

"Ominis—" Hearing you speak his name after so long, in a tone that wasn't revulsion, was like music. But the shock was gone when you turned to Missy, aggravated. "I-I didn't know he was coming."

"Yes," said Missy coolly, "this information comes from his family."

"And therefore it is my quest," he reiterated. "You cannot invite whomever you want."

"I thought the more people, the better." So composed and unperturbed. "Why? Will this be a problem?"

"Yes. She cannot go."

"And why not?" you challenged indignantly.

So damn naïve. "It's dangerous."

"When has that ever stopped me?"

"There's a first time for everything."

"You can put your wounded ego away, Ominis. There's no way I'm not going exploring with you all."

He swore steam erupted from his nose, but it took Sebastian, of all people, to step in and play middle man. "We'll all go— and no, Ominis, unless you're planning to hex her, I don't think you can stop her."

"Don't tempt me." He grinded his teeth. "If you get hurt—"

"You wouldn't care," you said coldly.

And you were right. He shouldn't have cared. He'd severed your bond almost a year ago now. But there was something in him helplessly clutched in your grasp. Something that wouldn't let him let you go.

"If we're ready," said Missy, elongating her words in a poor attempt to smooth the tension, "then you can tell us the first step into the Scriptorium, Ominis."

Lighting the braziers was the easy part. Other students had done it, lit the things to light their way through the dungeons and accidentally unveiled the door. But no one had got further. A dead end, it was declared.

Instantly, he knew why.

Whispers seeped through the chamber walls. As the others explored, and Missy repaired a broken relief, Ominis wished he could clap his hands over his ears. There was something terribly wrong with this place. Something dark.

"Wait— a journal entry! Under the broken pieces!" Sebastian snatched a crusty parchment from the ground. "Ominis— it's signed from your aunt."

"What?" He couldn't believe it. Then had she... succeeded? "What does it say?"

Sebastian read. "Wow... she tried to convince your father she'd found the Scriptorium. She came down to get proof."

Noctua was here. And, perhaps worse, his father knew. His father knew and never said a word.

Tears came unwilling to his eyes, and he fought to bat them back, but it was like the susurrations heard his pain, strengthening their efforts to unsettle him.

"What's wrong, Ominis?"

Your voice was a balm, even though Ominis hated himself for it. His throat ran dry.

"I— I can hear hissing."

"Hissing?" asked Missy.

"I'm a Parselmouth," he explained, and for some reason, admitting it in front of you filled him with more shame. "I can hear and speak to snakes."

"Wow, that's incredible."

The awe in Missy's voice disconcerted him. "All descendants of Salazar Slytherin have the ability."

"So what's it saying?"

Ominis swallowed and focused on the sound. It pulled such a deep fear from him, to use this ability he hadn't in so long. The worst of it was, it was like he'd last spoken it yesterday. Like he'd never stopped at all. He'd sworn a year ago to lock away all the darkness of his family bloodline and throw away the key, and yet here he was, standing in his predecessor's lair, the translation effortless.

For Aunt Noctua, he tried to convince himself. But it was much harder to pretend the ends justified the means.

"Speak to me," he murmured.

"The relief depicts a person facing a snake," said Sebastian. "And this door... well, it's covered in snake motifs."

Ominis felt it, if only to fuel the hope that his friend was wrong. Of course he wasn't.

His heartbeat was a wild stag in his chest. "But I— I can't. I haven't spoken it in years."

"I think you know it's not the sort of language you forget."

No. It wasn't.

Letting himself embrace this horrid part of his heritage terrified him. It was like being back in the cellar again, that Muggle writhing beneath him in pain, his parents and brother lauding his name. Gaunt. No matter what he did to unbind himself from the bloodline, always it came back to shackle him. Always, it answered when he didn't call.

Everything in this place was overwhelming. His father's deliberate silence, the darkness that fettered him when he thought he was free... He didn't realise he was shaking until a hand came to steady him. You. Because of course you knew about his aunt, and how fond of her he was. You knew how much this meant to him, even if you didn't know the horrible things he'd done to get here.

He hesitated pulling his arm away – a foolish mistake. Your touch lingered like your soap.

"Take your time," you said softly.

He tried to gather some lost mettle. For my aunt, he told himself, again and again, until the whispers didn't seem so scary. It was difficult to centre himself when three people were waiting on him, but knowing that behind this door were the answers for his aunt's disappearance, and potentially the answers for Anne's illness, lit the spark of courage he needed. All that was left was to speak.

So he took a deep breath. Forced it out again.

And he spoke.

The tongue was guttering and unnatural. Rusty. Yet the door recognised its own flesh, and as the snakes undulated along the door's surface, and it opened with a cold draught of wind, Ominis knew he'd never escape his family legacy. No matter how much he wished it.

The others cast Lumos and set about exploring the space. Even so many years here and there was still some wonder in discovering the new, the unwritten. Salazar Slytherin did not make it easy to enter his Scriptorium, as the enclosed stone hallways, suffused with the cold, were riddled with puzzles, most of them involving the use of sight. Missy managed to solve the first, a memory test that required her to twist dials to match symbols on the gates.

She clicked the first one. Something sharped sliced the air besides him, and Ominis flinched.

"What the—"

"The gate came down," Sebastian said, terrified but also in awe – a worrying amount. "Between the archway."

"So there's no way back."

You huffed a breath. "So there's only forwards."

Regardless of your optimism, that was not a comforting thought, and the group stayed closer together, firing Lighting charms into the darkness. Dust swirled beneath Ominis' nose, and yet the place had a damp, mildewed feel, unpleasant and uncomfortable, but as the others continued to solve Slytherin's riddles, a rising worry eschewed his fear. This was too easy. His ancestor, he hated to admit, was one of the greatest wizards of all time, and too clever to find entertainment in shallow puzzles. There had to be something worse.

"I don't like this," he murmured into the humming din at one point, as Sebastian and Missy searched for the next symbols.

He didn't mean to talk to you, but he had.

"We'll be okay," you said, even though you moved a little closer to him, closer than he'd expected. "Salazar Slytherin is your direct ancestor?"

He swallowed. "Yes."

A pause.

"He hated Muggle-borns, too."

On anyone else's tongue, the words were a jab. On you, they were only full of pity.

I don't hate Muggle-borns. I don't hate you.

But he couldn't bring himself to say it, and the silence that followed devoured him.

"I think this is the last one," said Missy, when they entered yet another identical stone corridor, the echo of her voice a small comfort in the confined space.

Sebastian had already turned this into a game. "Race you?"

She let out a single chuckle. "You couldn't keep up."

"Try me."

You laughed along to their competitive scrabbling. When the air rippled, and stone quaked, revealing a corridor that seemed to lead nowhere, you patted your cheeks twice and marched forwards on Sebastian's heels.

But Slytherin enjoyed games too.

The gate almost sliced Ominis' nose when it descended in front of him, cutting him off from you and Sebastian. A mere breath separated you, and yet the gap felt infinite.

Behind him, Missy spluttered. "Damn it!"

That meant— he was trapped.

Powerless.

He grabbed the gate, unyielding beneath his fingers. "Sebastian, what's going on?"

"I—" Sebastian startled. "Oh no."

He heard your intake of breath then.

"What's going on?" Ominis demanded.

"Bones," you said quietly. "And a note. I-It's from your aunt..."

She died here. You read it aloud, confirming Ominis' worst fears. Grief tore through him, swelling behind his eyes.

"This is the last puzzle," Sebastian said, voice firm. "There's a door, but it's sealed. It says Crucio on the floor..."

"No!" Ominis rattled the gate. "No, you can't. This is madness, Sebastian! Please—"

"Please what?" Sebastian said, frustrated. "The Scriptorium wants a price for entry. This is what we must pay."

But you didn't know any Dark Magic.

Sebastian did.

The realisation chilled Ominis down to his heart.

"Don't you dare!" he screeched. "Don't you dare use that curse on her!"

You stammered. "Ominis—"

"We're stuck!" Sebastian barked. "Your aunt died because she came alone. She didn't have anyone to use Dark Magic on. So unless you want to die like her, we don't have a choice."

"We always have a choice!"

Even though he didn't know what that was, even though it was Slytherin's nature to demand obedience or death. None of that mattered. What did was that you were the last person who deserved such pain, when you'd already been through so much. When he'd already caused it.

He tried with all his might to break the gate, bend it, cast the Exploding charm, whatever it would take to get him in the chamber.

"It won't work," Missy said, softer than he thought capable.

"I have to try—"

"It's okay," you mumbled, cutting him off. "I-I can take it."

The tremble betrayed your fear. Sebastian offered a compromise, that he could teach you and you'd use it on him, but even if you wanted to learn the curse yourself, which you didn't, there was no way you'd ever find the intention to use it willingly, and to use it willingly on Sebastian, no less, who'd done you no wrong since you'd known him.

Ominis banged his hands against the gate. "Damn it, Gibby—"

"I said I can do it," you snapped. "I'll be fine."

"I told you it was dangerous!"

"I knew the risks."

"Did you?" he challenged. "You came down to explore!"

"I'm not naïve, Ominis!" You came closer. "Of course the Scriptorium of Salazar Slytherin wouldn't be easy to get into. Of course I knew there was a price!"

But for you, and only you, to pay it? Was it by fate, that you walked in second, or was this what Slytherin wanted all along? For Muggle-born blood to pave the way for the rest of wizardkind?

His hands shook as he clutched the gate, so tightly his veins bulged. Once, you were the most naïve person he knew, but that day in the Undercroft had changed you as much as it had changed him.

You spun away, back to Sebastian. A deep breath.

"Okay. I'm ready."

"Are you sure?"

Presumably you nodded, because you didn't say the words.

And Ominis was helpless to listen as Sebastian raised his wand.

"Crucio!"

Your pain seemed to last for hours. For a second, a wink in time, you were silent, only that fizzing noise, that horrid, burning stench of the curse any indication anything was happening at all. But then you cried out, you wept,  you mewled, howled – then it was pure agony, screams that arced through Ominis in ways he would never forget.

Something shifted. It was a softer noise than your screams, like mud, or honey almost, sinking into the ground. As the blockage melted, Sebastian ceased the spell, but your pain did not end, and when the gate shot back up, Ominis stumbled over himself to get to you.

"Gibby," he fell to your side, cradled you, ran hands over your shoulders and face, breathless. "You— I— are you—"

Your ragged breaths calmed. Your quivering eased. Tears ran down his own, probably splattering onto you, but you said nothing, only remained still in his grasp as he held you, comforted you.

Something warm drew up his temple then, and it took a second to recognise it. Your hand. Your thumb, combing back an errant lock of hair, skimming the mole on his temple.

"So you do care," you croaked.

He didn't know how to respond.

"I-I'm sorry," he said instead, failure washing through him. "I... I should've—"

"Don't," you whispered. "Not here. Not yet."

So he didn't. Instead, he wordlessly helped you to stand. Sebastian and Missy asked after you, and their awkwardness brought a new flush to Ominis' cheeks, but when you gave a shaky thumbs-up and an audible smile that warmed even this terrible place, the four of you headed into Slytherin's Scriptorium impeded no longer.

Sebastian and Missy got to work searching each nook and cranny of the cavernous chamber of stone walls, busy with the scattered remnants of Slytherin's work: parchment, scrolls, ancient tomes on shelves that seemed to hum with magic too ancient to describe. Ominis held onto you for the entire time, emotionally spent. You clutched his arm in return, and he felt the tremble of your grip, the vestiges of the curse. He should've helped to search the place, really, but he didn't trust that Slytherin, the most famous pure-blood supremacist in the history of Hogwarts, wouldn't have any last surprises for you.

Missy eventually found Slytherin's spellbook, and the exit, which chucked the four of you back out into the dungeons. You huddled behind the columns until you were sure there were no teachers or prefects, and only then did Ominis allow himself a moment to press his head to the stone, process everything he'd heard, felt.

His aunt was dead, bones lying cold in that corridor.

Sebastian had used Dark Magic like it was second nature.

You had been hurt. And you were owed an explanation.

But so close to the common room entrance was risking too much. If not Peregrine Malfoy, then another pure-blood, a painting, a ghost, a teacher bribed. Someone else, trading with secrets that could ultimately slither its way back to his family.

"Ominis," Sebastian sounded genuinely contrite, "about your aunt—"

"Oh please, Sebastian," he snapped, the anger sudden but healthy. He swung on his friend, teeth bared. "We were lucky we escaped at all."

"But I'm grateful that we did, because maybe now Anne—"

"And if you'd have died in there? How could you have saved Anne then?"

You startled. "Wait, let's—"

"Swear to me." He didn't bend under the weight of your gaze. "Swear to me, right now, that we will never engage with Dark Magic ever again. That— that we will never cause that pain again."

Sebastian was speechless. "But—"

"Swear it, Sebastian!"

"All right, all right." He took a breath. "Understood. And I... I really am sorry about your aunt."

Admittedly that closure was nice, to know Noctua was gone. He didn't voice anything, his feelings too raw and churning, and Sebastian headed towards the common room, Missy in tow.

"We'll go. You two... have a lot to talk about."

When the common room door slid shut, and it was only the two of you, alone, a new sort of worry seeded in his stomach. You said nothing for a while, the last moments that had passed between you as palpable as stone.

"I— I'm sorry," he forced out, this apology much harder than the last. "The Cruciatus Curse—"

"I'm okay," you repeated. A shuffle of your boot. "Are... are you going to talk to me again now? Are you going to tell me why you turned on me?"

But he found the words impossible and unmoving. He needed time, space, to heal from today, before he was ready to open another old wound.

"I-I can't. Not yet."

You paused. It was long and hard to bear, like a rake drawing down his chest.

"All right," you said quietly. "When you're ready, find me. You know where."

He did know where. Back in the early months of first year, when you were green and hungry, there were times when you weren't tagging in Ominis and Sebastian's shadows, times when they didn't know where you were at all. Once he decided, on whim, to search. The castle was huge and he wasn't optimistic, but he checked your favourite places: the Hufflepuff common room, the library, the front lawns and the sitting area outside Charms. When you weren't there and no one had seen you, he concluded he was just missing you, and hurried towards the Great Hall before his absence at dinner was noticed.

That's when he heard you, far above.

The hallways of the Viaduct Entrance were quiet – everyone was at the feast – and even still, your voice was barely a whisper. He halted, pausing to make sure, and there again was your sound, high-pitched and squealy and very you. Brow furrowing, he followed the noise up the stairs until he found himself squirrelled between the wooden joists holding the ceiling.

Whilst Ominis and Sebastian had claimed the Undercroft as their own, this was your space. He didn't know when you'd discovered it, or how, but here you were, curled beneath the beams.

Crying.

It surprised him. You, crying? When you were always so upbeat? When everything seemed to make you laugh? He approached you like you were a unicorn, easily spooked by noise. Still, you noticed him anyway.

"Oh! Ominis! I— I didn't see you there."

"That makes two of us."

But you didn't laugh, which meant something was very wrong.

He swallowed his pride. He'd never dealt with someone crying before, least of all a crying girl. "What's the matter?"

"You're going to think I'm silly."

"I already think that."

Another heaving breath. Another jab that didn't land. "Then— I don't know. You might laugh."

"Why would I—?" He stopped himself. That wasn't what you needed to hear. Instead, he sat next to you. "I won't laugh. Promise."

"Okay." You shuffled a little closer. "I-I miss home."

Ah. You were homesick. Frankly the concept was foreign to him – he'd never once missed his family. Even then he rejoiced every second he got to spend away from home. Still, it seemed to be eating you up.

"I-I'm not ungrateful," you said quickly. "I'm really happy to be here. And I really like magic. It totally makes sense – one time I exploded my brother's washing basket and we never knew how—"

"Exploded—?" He sighed. Just you things. "Never mind."

"But I miss them. My mama and papa run the confectionary. My brothers are supposed to take over when they're older, but Connor met Matilda Asher at church and everyone reckons they'll marry soon and he'll go into lumbering, and Ellian doesn't like sweets a lot, and he's much better at business and numbers anyway, and who knows how little Tam will grow up— oh no, I'm going to miss him growing up!"

Now you were weeping and hiccoughing. "Slow down. You're getting tears on my robes."

"Sorry. Is that... am I a wally?"

He didn't have the heart to ask what a wally was.

"Everyone gets homesick sometimes."

"You don't."

So you noticed. "I grew up in the magical world. You didn't. If I was suddenly dropped into the Muggle world, I'd be sad too. It's overwhelming to suddenly be in a different place with different people, let alone find out you're actually a witch, but you'll get used to it."

"What if I don't?"

"You will." It wasn't a guess. It was fact. "And your friends will help. Sebastian and Anne, and Adelaide and Evangeline and Arthur too."

"And you?"

"Yes," he said, managing a smile for your sake, "and me."

You took a deep breath, a sign that meant you would be okay.

"Do... do you have a tissue?"

"No."

"A... face-cleaning spell? Dryus Tearus?"

"You can't put -us at the end of words and expect it to be a spell. Just stop crying." It came out as a demand, even though Ominis didn't mean it to. He lifted the hem of his robes and wiped away the tears. "You'll get to go home at Christmas, which is only two months away."

By which point, he knew, you wouldn't feel so homesick anyway.

You squirmed when he drew the robe across your nose again. It was snotty, which made him grunt in disgust, which then made you giggle, and then use the sleeve of your own shirt to wipe the rest away.

"Thank you." You sniffled again. "I must look terrible."

"Awful."

A sharp pause – then another laugh, this one more like your usual self. "You are funny, Ominis Gaunt."

Funny was, perhaps, the last word he would ever ascribe to himself. It was, however, the perfect word to assign to his feelings a few days after the Scriptorium debacle, when he was finally ready to share the truth.

He didn't find you under the joists in the Viaduct Entrance's ceiling. Instead, where you were sitting that first time he caught you in first year, and where you sat in the subsequent times since, he found a note. Cleverly it was in braille, and he suspected there was no written words. He drew his thumb across the print.

Below astronomy deck, 8pm.

You had been waiting there, every day like clockwork. Waiting for him.

Ominis climbed the winding stairs. He didn't come up here often – without his sight, he couldn't read the stars, though he did still partake in stargazing theory and discussion. The floorboards croaked. So high up, the wind teased the tips of his ears, and he fussed with warming them until the deck was before him.

He thought he was alone, that he'd missed the chance today.

But you were here, coming up to him steadily. "Are you ready to talk?"

He nodded, voice scarpering deep into his throat. You waited. You weren't going to prompt him or give him any tools to help. You were as hungry for answers as you were before, but you would not make it easy. He would have to work for your trust.

He didn't know how to start.

"I— my family—" How did he tell you about the pain he went through, without diminishing yours? How could he articulate the horrors he'd experienced home, that he'd subsequently thrown back at you? "Some... things happened, when I was at home that summer after third year."

You waited still, not saying a word.

The beginning, then.

"You know my family hates Muggles. Hates Muggle-borns. It's an old pure-blood notion that Muggle-born magic is weaker, that it's stolen. I realised it was wrong when I met you, and regardless of my family's opinions I thought it was okay to be your friend."

"Opinions," you retorted. "You mean prejudice?"

"Yes," he agreed hoarsely, realising his error too late. "Yes, prejudice."

Silence again, as you waited for him to continue. He didn't know you could be so blunt.

"Peregrine Malfoy found out in third year we were friends. He— he told his father. Who told mine." Now his heart raced, his pulse thrashed, a cold clamminess prickled up and down his skin in disgust, shame, fear. "M-My parents, my brother Marvolo, they... they were displeased—"

Your hand found his arm then to steady him then.

"You don't have to continue."

"You deserve to know—"

"It's okay. I... I already know."

"You— what?"

"I've known since the Scriptorium."

"How?" he demanded, then seethed. "Damn Sebastian—"

"Not Sebastian," you mumbled.

Anne.

"It wasn't her place to tell either."

"No," you agreed, "but I wrote her a letter and she told me anyway, since you were being a dummy."

"But you know why, then," he reiterated, clutching your shoulders, hoping, begging to make you see. "You know why—"

"I know I lost my best friend," you said, angry tears snuffing your voice. "I know you suffered. I know your family are the vilest, most evil people on earth. I know that nosy Malfoy should mind his own business. Sebastian said he talked to him. He won't say a word about you now."

What the hell did Sebastian do? "It's too risky."

"I'd rather live in risk with you then not have you at all."

"You don't understand. My family will stop at nothing to protect the sanctity of the bloodline. If they are capable of hurting me, they will hurt you. Maybe— maybe worse. They might've tried something already if you weren't protected here, at Hogwarts."

"I'm not afraid of them."

"You should be. They can do so much worse than... than the slur I called you, Gibby."

"Mudblood. I know."

"Don't say—"

"Why? That word means nothing to me – it only meant something when it was coming from you."

He didn't know how to respond, speechless.

"Your family can continue to live their lives in hatred, but I won't ruin mine for their sake. If I have to keep my friendship with you a secret to keep you safe, fine." Your voice was fierce, incredible, beautiful. "But I am not losing you, Ominis Gaunt. Not again."

You knocked the breath from him then. Those were words he would never forget; you planted yourself deeper into his heart, where your flowers bloomed even in the shadows of his past.

You were his family, too.

It had taken him a long time to realise you always had been.

[MASTERLIST][PREV][NEXT] [Divider credits]

[derehono]

24.02.2022.

The day that changed my life forever.

24th of February 2022 should have been my usual day. No, not usual. A wonderful day. I should have been checked with a doctor, gave notice to teachers in high school of my absence, and then fly away on vacation, my parents wanted it so much.

On 23rd of February 2022 I felt happy. I had a secure, happy life, preparing to finals, hanging out with my friends, already having an offer from university.

Until 5AM 24.02.2022.

I had not a single class in my school since then.

I haven’t seen my friend group in 2 years.

I didn’t have my finals.

We did not have that vacation.

“Daughter, wake up. This old psychotic man attacked us. We are leaving.”

That was my first photo of the day, trying sarcastically keep myself normal. I remember that actual emptiness, reading my classmates texts about how their windows were shaking because of explosions, the sky was orange. They sent that video.

He called it “a special military operation”.

I collected random clothes, some hobby stuff just to keep my sanity, grabbed my pet, emptied my safety locker. I was scared that russians would intrude into our home and steal all my savings, so I throw away key to that lock. This key became my symbol of war, I have never found it even after return.

When I with my parents and pet got out of flat to car we heard for the very first time air raid siren. We would hear so many more of them, we would learn to differentiate them, but then we were confused.

It was my second photo. People were going away. Foot, cars, bicycles. I remember such a surreal picture. Some moms were carrying their toddlers, one woman was carrying a bucket of water with turtles, other people were carrying cages with parrots, with dogs, with cats, with exotic pets despite air raid siren, temperature, rain. Everyone was so confused and scared.

Few days later the road we were riding was occupied. Bridges destroyed. Factories burnt. Supermarkets demolished. Houses in ruins. Road in holes. On the side of the road burnt cars with “DO NOT TOUCH, POSSIBLY EXPLOSIVE”. That gut wrenching feeling seeing photos of dead bodies and recognising the place.

But back then it was still lively, not a road of death. I remember reading news then. First victims, first shelling. Invasion from East. Invasion from Kharkiv region. Invasion from Crimea. Invasion from Chernihiv. Invasion from Zhytomyr. And we were in Zhytomyr region at that moment. Explosions in Kyiv. The border was destroyed.

I felt nothing. Just emptiness.

This precious girl was keeping my head cool all the road. She was also scared and irritated, but she was so strong, such an amazing girl. I am so proud of her.

We were heading to my grandparents who lived closer to West Ukraine, so we would be safer. The road that takes usually just 4 hours but that time it took 13 hours. 13 hours of driving exhausted and nerved. We saw soldiers, trucks, jets, how barricades were built, signs were removed.

But we made it. We were lucky. Lucky to be alive, to have family alive and mostly close to West, further from russia. Even though, part of my extended family still was under occupation in Chernihiv region, suffering from such close border with belarus.

When we arrived, we were just silent. Then collected mattresses for shelter, asked grandpa to grab some patrol (we knew that they would definitely destroy reservoirs and literally next day the started doing that), and just fell asleep in something that we arrived in, being so scared.

That day I also cut ties with russian friend who I am shamed to admit having. He was proving me that this is just a military operation, no one would be harmed.

Then, arrived spring that I will never forget but at the same time never remember. I remember 10 people in one floor house. I remember the whistle of rocket that woke us up. I remember sirens. I remember news. I remember losing hope. I remember first photos after deoccupation of Kyiv region. I remember how forgotten friend of my dad suddenly called him saying that his city is fully destroyed, his neighbour right on his eyes was exploded attempting to get into the car and evacuate.

I remember my first mental breakdown. How I was crying in the darkness, but quietly so no one would notice.

We were able to return home three months later. But we are just lucky. Someone would never return. Someone is not even alive to see their home again. Someone’s home is forever destroyed.

I was lucky that I have secured my place at foreign university before war, but my whole family is still in Ukraine.

War is not over at all. 20% of Ukraine is occupied. So many displaced civilians, so many deaths. No one could even count, we do not have any access to bodies. Only way to identify is to deoccupy and find mass graves. No other means. Children are suffering from PTSD even in such a young age. Almost in every city, big or small, you would find graveyards covered in Ukrainian flag, grave of the soldier.

Maybe media does not talk that much of us, but it doesn’t mean that everything is alright. Avdiivka is destroyed, right now operation searching for people under debris of the civilian house after attack is undergoing.

And this is happening all the time.

Who was punished for Olenivka? Who was punished for destruction of Kakhovka Dam? Who was punished for all fully destroyed cities? Who was responsible for all that absolutely atrocious videos torturing Ukrainian soldiers?

Please, remember, Ukraine is still on fire. People are still dying. Soldiers cannot even counterattack because they do not have enough ammo, just for protection. Information war is also waging, sharing all that misinformation, Nazi narratives, russian propaganda.

Remember.

Help.

Share.

russia is a terrorist state.

Glory to Ukraine.

Glory to the Heroes.

[profound-imagination]

Before You Go - Fenrys Moonbeam

A/N: I’m so freaking proud of this fic I hope you love it! Also I’ve tried my hand at a lil smut so please feel free to give constructive criticism!

T/W: Maeve, Smut, Vision of Maeve & Fenrys, Angst, Death - I think that’s it! Let me know if I’ve missed any!

W/C: 5K

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

100 Years Ago:

“You did what?!” You seethed at the White Wolf who was looking anywhere but at you. “I swore a blood oath…to Maeve.” The words hit you like a physical blow and tears lined your eyes. “Why…why would you do that?” You asked, swallowing the lump in your throat. He looked at you then, his face shuttering as he took in your unshed tears. “For Connall, the things she makes him do, Y/N, I can’t, I can’t allow it.” You sighed, heart breaking as you looked at the Male in front of you, your mate. Not that he knew, if he did he hadn’t told you, just like how you hadn’t told him. “He’ll resent you for taking his place, Fen, he came to visit, while you were gone with your elite force, he seemed happy.”

You’d grown up with the twins, your parents serving under theirs but there was always something about Fenrys, something that pulled you in. They were five years older than you and you’d put it down to a school girl crush. Connall hated it. He didn’t speak to you for 2 years after he confessed his feelings for you on your 18th birthday. You had just looked helplessly at his twin and he had known then, had understood there was something unspoken between you and his brother. It infuriated him. Connall had always felt lesser than his twin, who was favoured by their father and now by you, it seemed. “I can’t let her have him like that, Connall deserves a true and pure love, not this.” You scoffed, “What, so it’s better for you to be her whore instead?” You spat, his eyes hardening at your words, “Tell me, will you be allowed to leave her chambers? To be the warrior you always wanted to be or will you be leashed to her bed like the dog that you are?”

Anger rolled off of him in waves as he took a step back from you, “That’s enough.” He said quietly but you were so past trying to understand his reasoning. “Maybe he loves her, Fen? Did you think of that?” He scoffed this time, “Even if he does, she doesn’t and won’t ever love him back, she’s incapable of it.” You put your hands on your hips, “So what now? You’ve come to say goodbye? Tell me I’ll never see you again?” His face softened as your voice cracked. “You’ll see me again, but yes, I came to say goodbye.” Anger was still coursing through your veins as you said, “You better go then, your shackles on her bed are waiting. Goodbye, Fenrys.” You turned and walked away, you didn’t look back.

85 Years Ago:

The first ten years without the twins, without Fenrys, had been hard. You’d lost your parents to one of Maeve’s many wars, the twins' parents only just making it back themselves. They had taken you in, despite the fact you were an adult and your own parents had left you more than enough. It was like their mother knew this would be the final blow for you and she refused to let you fall into your despair. She’d moved you into Fenrys’ room, “So you’re here when he comes back,” she had said, “A mate's presence heals most things, even if they're not physically here.” You didn’t know how she knew nor did you ask at the time as you crawled into his bed and slept for days.

Fenrys sent everything he was feeling down the mating bond unknowingly. You could stop him from feeling your feelings which you’d been actively doing since it snapped for you but you couldn’t block his. The hatred, the anger, the sadness, the submission, the pleasure. It made you physically sick. Sometimes, when his emotions were particularly high, you saw it all as well, through his eyes. You’d never forget that first time.

Maeve on top of him, her naked form grinding in his lap. “What’s the matter little pup?” She taunted from above him, “Performance nerves?” He was panicking, you could feel the panic coursing through him, the dread that if he didn’t perform she’d bring Connall in here instead. She scraped her nails down his chest, “You really are pretty for a dog, Fenrys.” She crooned, rolling her hips again, “I can help you enjoy it and perhaps eventually you’ll learn to enjoy it on your own.” She leant forward and kissed up his neck, her canines scraping as she went, disgust shot through him as one hand wrapped around his throat and the other slid towards his cock. “Enjoy it.” She whispered seductively in his ear, “You want me, Fenrys, you want this.” She sucked on his earlobe and the disgust started to dissipate, replaced by lust. “You want to fuck me, to satisfy me.” She continued as his cock stiffened in her hand. She dragged herself up his body, until she had a leg on either side of his head. “Go ahead pup,” she crooned, “eat.”

You witnessed the whole thing. She had ridden him until she was satisfied and when he was spent she sent him away like he was nothing. The last thing you saw when Fenrys opened her chamber door was Connall on the other side, betrayal like nothing you’d ever seen written across his face. You’d thrown up until your body had given out and you moved out of his room and his parents house the next day.

This went on for ten years until you’d had enough, you couldn’t take it anymore, feeling what he was feeling, witnessing it. You had amassed the funds your parents had left you and ventured to Doranelle, for an audience with the Queen. You smoothed down the skirts of your dress as you waited to be called into her throne room. Fenrys was here and nearby, you could feel the bond coming to life and singing that its counterpart was close. A guard approached and nodded for you to follow him, so you took a deep breath and did just that. It’s for the twins, you told yourself over and over again as you rounded the corner and took in Maeve sitting upon her stone throne, two wolves sat either side, one white, one black, both of their ears shot up and their eyes widened as they took you in. A white tailed hawk sat above her right shoulder, a massive Osprey sat above her left. In one of the alcoves close to the throne stood the biggest male you had ever seen and another male with golden hair and tattoos.

“You asked for an audience?” Maeve asked, her voice sounded bored and uninterested. You bowed as low as you could before speaking, “Yes your majesty, thank you for granting my wish.” You said, your voice sounding stronger than you felt, she waved a hand for you to continue. “I have come to ask if you will allow me to buy the wolves out of their servitude? They are needed at home but of course majesty I understand they are of great importance to you so I offer all that I have, including myself, in their stead.” Maeve tilted her head in consideration. Connall was staring at his queen, but Fenrys, Fenrys was staring at you, a sadness in his eyes, a desperation telling you to take back your offer and run.

Maeve tipped her head back and laughed, she laughed like you had told the best joke she had ever heard and as quickly as she laughed, it ended. The Fae Queen leveled you with a look, “No.” You stepped forward, Connall bared his teeth and let out a warning growl that shocked you to your very core. “But, I-“ the Queen cut you off, “I said no, like you pointed out, girl, they are of great importance to me and this one,” she said, placing a hand on Fenrys’ head, “He pleases me ever so well, so no, girl, I’ll keep them both, leave.” Your mouth dropped open and Maeve sighed, “Lorcan, see our guest out.” The giant of a male stepped towards you and Fenrys whined his protest, “Hush, pup, get upstairs.” Maeve commanded and you were escorted out with a feeling in the pit of your stomach that you’d made everything worse for him.

A knock woke you from a fitful sleep. You hadn’t even made it to your bed, you had passed out drunk on the sofa and you winced as the wine bottle rolled off of you and smashed on the floor. You’d deal with that in the morning you decided as you stumbled to the door and flung it open. A fae male with long silver hair and face tattoos stood on the other side, along with the golden haired male from earlier. “So she’s sent you to kill me then?” You asked as you turned and walked into the kitchen, leaving the door open for them to follow. “Drink?” You asked, pouring yourself a whisky and sliding the bottle and two glasses over to the other side of the table where they now stood. “I won’t fight you for my life,” you told them, “There’s nothing left of it anyway.” You said gesturing around the house.

The silver haired one snorted as he took in your home, “Wow, you really aren’t doing well without him are you?” The golden haired one hissed as he elbowed his friend, “Rowan!” He scolded. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m Gavriel and this is Rowan, we aren’t here to kill you, we’re here to help, sort of.” You raised an eyebrow, “Help? With what?” You questioned, “You feel him don’t you?” Rowan asked, “We can teach you to block him out, so you don’t feel him if you’re too much of a coward to tell him he’s your mate.” You crossed your arms over your chest, “You’re an asshole.” You told Rowan, Gavriel nodded his agreement, “An asshole I might be, but I’m trying to help you, do you know what she would’ve done if she realised what you were to him, to both of them?” You shrugged, “It isn’t fair that they are chained to her like that, it’s not fair to any of you, loyalty should be earned, not taken.” Gavriel sighed, “Let us help you.”

So you learned from them, well, from Rowan mostly, over an exhausting couple of days. Gavriel kept himself busy fixing whatever needed fixing in the house and tidying up so you had somewhere presentable to live. “Oh and one more thing,” Rowan said as they turned to leave that evening. He turned, producing a letter out of his satchel and you instantly recognised the scrawl on the envelope. “Keep those shields up, Y/N.” He said before walking out the door. Gavriel smiled kindly at you, “For what it’s worth, I think he regrets it, leaving you, everyday.” You sighed, “I was so mean the last time I spoke to him, I was angry and I didn’t mean any of it.” You said quietly, “I think he knows that too,” Gavriel said, “but I’ll make sure to tell him.”

You smiled at him softly, “Why did you both come to help me?” You questioned, Gavriel glanced outside and then back to you, “Rowan’s pregnant mate was murdered & I walked away from my mate and child because of the fear of Maeve, we don’t want the same for Fenrys, we’re quite keen on the pups and somethings Y/N, somethings are worth fighting for.” With that, he took your hand, kissed your knuckles and left.

You slid down the front door, pulled your knees to your chest and ripped open the letter Rowan had given you. There was such anger in Connall’s words, at you, at his brother. But there was also sorrow and a plea for you to never step foot in Doranelle again.

You spent the following weeks wondering if you’d be betrayed, but no one ever came for you.

50 Years Ago:

Gasping quietly you dropped the dishes you were washing in the sink with a splash, the bubbles splattering up your apron. You threw open the door to Rowan and the tall male you hadn’t met yet. “What happened?!” You snapped as you took in Fenrys hanging between them. “Move!” The tall male hissed as they shoved past you, “Clear the table!” Rowan commanded, panic seized you as you swept the table with your arm. “What happened?!” You snapped again and Fenrys groaned as they placed him more gently than you’d expected on the table. “He’s been testing the leash, stupid boy.” Your eyes snapped to the tall male, “Sorry, who the hell are you?” He didn’t even look at you as he grunted, “Lorcan.” You looked back down at Fenrys, “She did this to him?” Rowan looked at Lorcan who shook his head but Rowan answered you anyway, “Connall did.” Anger flooded through you, “Connall?!” Fenrys let out a wet, labored cough, “No,” he croaked. “She commanded it,” Lorcan drawled, “But he didn’t seem to hesitate or fight it.”

You watched quietly as the two warriors worked on Fenrys. Your entire body was tense. Fenrys had passed out 30 minutes ago, a blessing you supposed, that he couldn’t feel what they were doing as they were putting him back together. A shadow outside the window caught your eye and you stalked out the door. “You’ve got some nerve.” You spat at the Black Wolf who was sitting at the tree line of your property. “How dare you turn up here?!” With a flash the Black Wolf was a Male prowling towards you. “He’s my brother, I need to know if he’s okay.” You scoffed, “You did this to him!” You exclaimed, stepping up to him. “I didn’t have a choice!” You rolled your eyes, “They said you didn’t even hesitate or try to fight the order!” You watched Connall’s eyes shoot over your shoulder and then back to you. You felt Rowan at your back. “Are you here for you or for her?” He asked, his voice tight. “For him.” Connall snapped. Rowan nodded and beckoned him to follow. You huffed and followed the two males into your home, the tang of blood in the air.

They’d moved him to your bed when they’d patched him up. You had sat next to the bed, back rigid. Your eyes watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. Around 3am his eyes cracked open, finding you instantly in the darkness, “Am I dead? Is this heaven?” He rasped. You rolled your eyes, “No, you aren’t dead, they brought you here.” He nodded weakly. “Where are they?” He croaked, you handed him a glass of water, “Lorcan and Connall went back, Rowan’s flapping about outside.” You told him and he huffed a laugh then winced. “Stop it.” You scolded him.

You’d brought him some food and stuck your head out the door to let Rowan know he was awake before returning to Fenrys. “How are you feeling?” You asked, “Why are you doing this? Helping?” He asked at the same time. “Because it’s you and I’m an idiot.” You muttered quietly. “It was stupid of you to come to Doranelle.” He said, “I’m not sorry.” You snapped. “Your brother nearly killed you today, he didn’t think twice about it, he just obeyed.” Your voice cracked and tears welled up in your eyes. Fenrys sighed, “It’s the blood oath, he didn’t have a choice.” You gave him a scathing look, “Get some rest.” You said, voice sharp and you turned to leave. “Hey?” You turned to face him, he held his hand out towards you, “Come here?” He asked, patting the space next to him. The bond was screaming at you to do so, to join him, to not leave him injured and alone in your room so you caved and crawled in next to him. “You know I love you right?” He asked into the darkness of the room. “Yeah, I know.” You answer, heart cracking because you knew he didn’t mean it how your entire soul craved him to mean it.

Now:

“What are you doing here?!” You span at the sound of his voice. “Fighting? We got the call.” You gestured at the battlefield that surrounded you. “You can’t be here!” He snarled, “Well I am! You snarled back. “Pup! We’ve got to go, you can fight with your girlfriend later!” Rowan shouted as he landed next to you, “Hi, Y/N.” You smiled at him, “Aedion is injured, get up to the battlements and see where you can help.” Rowan told you, you nodded at him and took off, Fenrys shouting after you.

You clung onto Aedion, tears in your eyes as Gavriel stepped through the gate. You’d grown to love Gavriel, he’d visited you every time he traveled past your home over the years, always stopping in for a cup of tea, you had your suspicions that he was reporting back to Fenrys but he’d become your friend either way. “Let him go, Aedion.” He fought against you, “He’s doing this for you, the only thing he feels he can do for you.” So the two of you watched as the Lion of Doranelle stood his ground as the gate shut him out.

It was over. It was won. You’d watched from the battlements as Fenrys delivered the killing blow to the tyrant Queen. Had watched them morn Gavriel from the outside while you quietly mourned the Wolf that was no longer with you. Aelin had approached you in the garden one evening, as you sat amongst the flowers, watching the sun disappear, talking to Connall as if he could hear you. “You’re staying.” A fact, a demand from your Queen, not a question. You looked up at her and she smiled, “Rowan’s not so good with the secrets.” You laughed as he huffed behind his wife. “He’ll need you.” You gave her a kind smile, “I doubt that, but if it’s what you wish for, your majesty, I will stay.” She gave you a look that said she knew she was right and turned to leave, “Actually, with your permission, there’s something I’d like to do.” Tears welled in Aelin’s eyes as you told her what you wanted, Rowan approached and smiled and put a hand on your shoulder, “I think that’s a wonderful idea.” He said, Aelin nodded her agreement.

Fenrys found you a week later. “What are you doing out here?” He asked, approaching you in the Royal Graveyard of Terrasen. You were knelt in the dirt, hands covered in it. Flowers surround you, Zinnias for remembrance and goodness, Yellow Carnations for friendship and gratitude, Violets for faithfulness and devotion, Anemones for protection and sacrifice and Daffodils for rebirth and hope. “He mentioned you had become friends over the years…” he trailed off, realising that it wasn’t Gavriel’s grave you were kneeling in front of. You looked at him over your shoulder, and then moved aside to reveal a gravestone, that simply read:

Connall Moonbeam

Brother

Friend

Beloved

Black Wolf of Doranelle

A raw, broken sound left Fenrys as he crashed to his knees at the sight of his brother's grave and you were there, next to him, holding him. “I thought it would be nice if we had somewhere we could talk to him.” You told him quietly as he sobbed into his hands. “He visits me in my dreams, the first time was the night he died. He came to me and told me what had happened. That you needed me. I set off the next day to find Aelin, to help however I could.” Fenrys fell into you, sobbing into your neck. “He kept me safe, when I slept rough, he’d tell me to wake up, to move.” You kept talking as Fenrys calmed slowly, “He had things left to say to me, we both cried as he told me he’d loved me once but he knew, had always known I’d belonged to his brother, that I had to find you, that you’d need me, that after everything, he’d get me to you safely, the last thing he could do for you.” You ran a calming hand down his back, “He had a message for you, he said he loves you, more than anything, he forgives you for everything and he’s sorry for his part, he said that it was meant for you, the dagger, but it was too far and he couldn’t allow it.” Tears were running down your face by the time you finished speaking. “If I could change it, if I could take his place so he could be here with you, I would, in a heartbeat, Fen.”

Fenrys remained quiet for a long time after you had told him everything. He clutched your hand like it was his tether to the earth. Finally he looked up at you, his onyx eyes meeting yours and you saw the exact moment he felt it too, the bond. You watched it wash over him, watched him figure out what it was he was feeling. “You…you’re…” you nodded at him, “Yes, I am.” He blinked, “How long have you known?” He croaked and you let out a humorless laugh, “A long time, Fen.” “How long?” He repeated, “Since before you swore the blood oath.” You admitted, “You’ve known for over 100 years that we’re mates and you never said anything?!” You opened your mouth to reply just as Rowan and Aelin approached, “We’ve all known Boyo, it was fairly obvious.” Aelin elbowed her husband. “You’ve done a wonderful job on Connall’s grave, Y/N.” She said, “I’m sorry I never got to know him.” She said to Fenrys, wrapping him in her arms. “He’d have loved you.” Fenrys mumbled and you and Rowan laughed your agreement.

Over the following weeks Fenrys started coming around more and more. Getting to know you again he’d said. You’d cried as Aedion swore his oath, took his birthright and Fenrys had laughed at you, wiped your tears and held your hand for the rest of the ceremony. “Dance with me?” He asked as the Coronation Ball went on and on. You smiled up at him and took his had, allowing him to lead you to the dance floor and into the first dance. Your body fit against his in the best of ways and from what you felt, he knew it too. It was on your third dance that he seemed to throw caution to the wind and his hand left your waist to cup your face as he brought his lips down to yours. It was like the world had gone silent. He pulled you impossibly closer to him as his kisses descended down your neck. “Let’s get out of here.” He spoke against your neck, “Please?” You begged him. He smirked at you as he pulled you towards the doors.

The two of you only made it a few corridors at a time before you were swept up in kisses and touches again. By the time you were halfway to his room, you realised, he was carrying you, your legs wrapped around his waist, dress up around your hips, his hands on your ass, groaning at the feel of it, of the feel of your teeth against his neck. “Fuck it.” He growled three corridors away from his room as he pinned you against the wall with his hips and pulling the top of your dress down. He groaned as he took in the sight before him and ground his hips into yours causing you to moan. He lowered his head, kisses starting at your neck, trailing down to your chest where he worshiped each breast and nipple, the sensations causing you to writhe against him.

“Can you be quiet for me?” He asked, pulling away from your chest. You nodded eagerly as he sank to his knees, anticipation tightening in your stomach as he threw your legs over his shoulders, his head disappearing under the skirts of your dress. Kisses began traveling up your legs, “No underwear?” He mumbled more to himself than to you as his mouth neared to where you wanted it the most. His tongue licked a broad stripe and you jerked at the sensation, letting out a loud moan. “What did I say about being quiet?” He teased as he head appeared from under your skirts before going right back to where it was before. Your fingers scrambled for something to grab onto and settled for the of your dress that was covering his head as he sucked on your clit, waves of pleasure zinging up and down your spine.

“Please, please, please” you were begging as that familiar coil started to tighten in your stomach. “Please what?” He asked against your clit, the words vibrating beautifully. “Tell me what you want love?” He asked, nipping at your thigh. “Make me cum, Fen, please I’m so close.” You whimpered as he started his minstrations again. Two calloused fingers pushed into you and you threw your head back into the wall, his lips still sucking at you. “Plea-“ your begging was cut off as his fingers curled and hit that perfect spot and the coil in your stomach snapped and you and the world fell apart as your orgasam ripped through you. He kept going, drawing it out as long as he could.

His smirk was feline when he emerged from your dress and set your shaking legs back on the ground. You threw yourself at him so hard he stumbled back into the opposite wall as he caught you. You began attacking his neck with kisses, teeth scraping along his throat as you pulled his shirt out of his trousers and tried to undo the buttons. “Take me to bed. Now.” You breathed against his ear and he froze. Completely froze. His arms dropped away from you and his whole body was ridgid. You pulled away from him, realising quickly what had happened and your heart threatened to disintegrate at that haunted look in his eyes.

“Fenrys?” It was like he couldn’t hear you. Whatever memory of Maeve he was reliving had trapped him and you weren’t sure how to get to him. You had just began to panic when Chaol and Yerene walked down the hallway, “Get Aelin, now!” You snapped at Chaol as Yerene stepped towards him. “Don’t!” She stopped dead and looked at you. “I don’t know what he’s reliving and how he’ll be when he comes out of it, you’re with child.” You said more gently and she nodded in understanding, “Go with Chaol, bring Rowan too!” She nodded as she ran to catch up with her husband. “Fen, please, come back to me.”

Footsteps rushed down the hallway and then Aelin was there, Rowan next to her. Lorcan behind him. Chaol and Yerene behind him. You knew you didn’t fit this picture, this group. So you watched, back against the wall Fenrys had just had you against as the Queen of Terrasen pulled your mate back after you had failed to do so. His eyes cleared and darted around the hallway, he smiled down at Aelin and Rowan clapped him on the shoulder. Lorcan, Chaol and Yerene departed back to the ball as the Queen and King spoke with their Emissary, their friend & you turned and fled. You had done that to him, you were no better than Maeve.

“I don’t know how to do this.” You sobbed, “I don’t know how to be what he needs.” The gravestone didn’t answer. “I wish you were here, Con.” You told him, “It’s not right without you and I keep messing everything up.” You let out some more sobs as Fenrys’ haunted face flashed through your memories again. Twigs breaking behind Connall’s grave had your head shooting up & there he was, your White Wolf. “I’m sorry, Fen, so unbelievably sorry.” You told him as he prowled over to you.

He approached, studying you and your tears, then licked a great stripe right up the side of your face, which caused you to snort in disgust and then laugh. Fenrys huffed out a sound that you assumed was as close to a laugh as he could do as a wolf and then he curled himself around your back, and a contented rumble left his chest as you leant back on him. “I’m sorry I put you back there, I’ll be more careful with my words next time.” You said quietly. He huffed again, nuzzling his face into your side, a feeling of warmth, thanks and understanding filled your chest and you knew it was him. “Can we stay out here with Connall tonight?” You asked, he nodded and put his head down on a massive paw, leaving the other for you as you curled up into his fur. “I love you, Fen.” You mumbled sleepily, “I have for most of my life.” You felt the moment he shifted, arms wrapping around you and pulling you into his chest, “I love you too.” He said, kissing the top of your head.

Connall Moonbeam smiled down at the sight of his twin brother and his best friend, curled up together by a grave that he was not in. It didn’t matter, they had honored him with it anyway. They continued to honor and remember him for the rest of their lives, especially on the day their son was born and they gave him the name Connall Gavriel Moonbeam. Gavriel clapped a hand on his shoulder as he walked away from him, into the arms of the mate he’d been missing for so long. Connall smiled down at his brother and his family one last time and followed Gavriel and his mate into the light, there would be no more dream visits, he had nothing more to offer his friend, besides, he’d see them both again some day.

[owlobservation]

Itoshi Sae Profile from Egoist Bible Vol.2 (2024)

"Only the idiots who can keep up will get to see what comes next."

Team: Japan U-20 National Team

Position: Offensive Midfielder (OMF)

Weapons: World class kicking accuracy, world class technique, world class tactical vision, and world class physical ability.

Birthdate: October 10th.

Age: 18 (Third year high school)

Zodiac sign: Libra.

Birthplace: Kanagawa Prefecture (Kamakura City)

Family structure: Father, mother, himself, younger brother.

Height: 180 cm.

Foot size: 26.5 cm.

Blood type: A.

Previous team before he returned to Japan: Re Ale Youth FC.

Dominant foot: Left.

Favorite Soccer Player: Álvaro Recoba. "The left-footed player who creates a rainbow on the pitch."*

Age started playing soccer: 1 years old. "Before I knew it, I was already playing soccer."

Nickname: Treasure of Japan.

Strengths: Being able to see things objectively. "I'm often told that I'm a dry person but who cares."

Weaknesses: I don't know anything except about soccer. "Don't live like this, you guys."

Favorite food: Salted kombucha. "Because I can return back to zero."**

Disliked food: French fries. "It's so delicious that I could die, but it's also so unhealthy that I could die."

Best rice accompaniment: Salted kelp. "They don't have it in Spain so I got it sent from my parents' home."

Hobby: Analyzing data of soccer players and teams. "It's nice to see things visualized as numbers."

Favorite season: The end of summer. "I feel like the whole world has become lonely."

Favorite show: Chibi Maruko-chan. "It reminds me of my parents' home."

Favorite music: Suisei by Tofubeats feat. Seira Kariya. "I listen it to cool down."

Favorite movie: Taxi Driver. "This De Niro guy is the coolest."

Favorite manga: Gegege no Kitaro.

Character color: Azuki Red.

Favorite animal: Seagull. "I like migratory birds that don't stay in one place."

Favorite brands: All the brands that sponsor me. "They have good eyes for betting on me."

Best subjects: No idea because I didn't really pay attention in class and only focused on soccer. "I've never seen my report card."

Fetish: Butt. "You can tell an athlete's ability by the shape of their butt."

What makes you happy: A play beyond my imagination.

What makes you sad: Being forced to carry the weight of Japanese soccer on my shoulders. "Yes, I'm talking about you guys."

The first time someone confessed to you: I don't even remember which one was the first time, dumbass.

Last year's valentine day chocolates: Around 2.000. "My manager told me."

Sleep time: 8 hours. (7 hours+1 hour nap)

Where do you wash first in the bath?: Bangs' hairline.

Mushroom or Bamboo shoots?: Depending on the mood.

What made you cry recently?: Why would I tell you, idiot.

At what age did you stop receiving presents from Santa?: 10 years old.***

What did you ask for a Christmas present from Santa?: My undiscovered talent.

What would you do on your last day on earth?: Give the world's best striker the world's best pass.

What would you do if you received 100 million yen?: I'm not interested. It's just a small change.

What do you do on your days off?: Gazing at the sea.

What would you be doing if you hadn’t discovered soccer?: Living a normal, happy life. Maybe my personality wouldn't have turned out like this.

Who is your favorite historical figure?: Copernicus. He was the man who overturned the world’s common knowledge.

If you could only bring one thing to a deserted island, what would it be?: No need. I’d live the way I wanted without any rules.

Where would you go if you had a time machine, to the past or the future?: Not interested in either. I have no pointless expectations or regrets for my future or my past. Just live in the moment. You guys are so tepid. 

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World-class Offensive Midfielder With Boundless Parameters

Aiming to become the best midfielder in the world, Sae is a super player with the complete package of mind, technique, and physique. Isagi’s best play which he pulled off with “reflex” was stopped with just a light tackle. He killed The Direct Shot flawlessly, showing the big difference between the two.****

He’s Only Interested In Blue Lock! The One He Chose Was Shidou?

Sae was only interested in Blue Lock and paid no attention to his younger brother Rin or the U-20 Japan National Team. The world he sees and the place he aims for are clearly different from those of the U-20 National Team. Sae chose Shidou from Blue Lock as his teammate. With a series of super plays, they managed to corner Blue Lock.

The reason for Sae's sudden change... What on earth happened in Spain!?

Sae went to Spain and promised his younger brother Rin that he’d become “The Best Striker In The World”. However, when he returned home four years later, his attitude had changed completely . He declared that he would become “The Best Midfielder In The World” instead and pushed Rin away, calling him "tepid".*****

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Sae's Ranking on "Best 3 of Everything: Players seriously voted each!"

1. Ranked #1 The Best at Crossing (Centering)

Hiori’s commentary: "Well, all of Itoshi Sae’s kicks are perfectly designed. I admire him."

2. Ranked #2 The Most Likely To Succeed As Coach

3. Ranked #1 Who Doesn't Cry Easily

Aryu’s commentary: "If Itoshi Sae were to cry, it would be when he became the world’s best. That would be the moment of ultimate styl."******

4. Ranked #1 The Least Family-oriented person

Isagi’s commentary: "If you look at those two, you would assume so. But if they really hate each other… It means that they also think about each other."

5. Ranked #2 The Most Likely To Thrive In The Sengoku Period

6. Ranked #2 The Most Leader-like (or has the qualities of a leader)

7. Ranked #3 Longest Eyelashes

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes:

*Álvaro Recoba (El Chino) is a midfielder from Uruguay known for his "rainbow-like" curved kicks.

**Return back to zero=being refreshed.

***In early 2021 twitter Q&A, he said he stopped getting Christmas presents when Rin stopped believing in Santa. His answer is revised in Egoist Bible to just "10 years old."

****The original sentence is “...a super player who possesses everything– mind, technique and physique (心技体)”. 心技体 or Shingitai refers to the three qualities an athlete must have: 心 is heart/mind, 技 is technique/skill, 体 is body/physique/strength. It is said that an athlete needs 3 of them to succeed. If they only have the right mind and skills but not the body to support them… well you’ll know what will happen!  So from our understanding Shingitai is an ‘inseparable set’. We translated it as a “complete package” to let you know that those 3 qualities are inseparable!

*****Here the word used is 突き放す (tsukihanasu). Tsukihanasu is 'to push away', to push someone (or something) away and make them leave. It can also refer to an attitude of  treating someone without love, sympathy, or emotions. Please check my notes on Rin’s profile page, because there is a connection!

******What Aryu originally said isファ イナリーオシャ final osha. "The moment where Itoshi Sae finally cried would be the moment of ultimate/final styl.” is most likely what he meant! We personally think ‘ultimate styl’ had more feel than ‘final styl’ (?), that’s why we went with ultimate osha!

Check Sae's profile from the first volume of Egoist Bible here!

[gulliblelemon]

Young Royals Fic Recommendations 4

Find previous lists here: 1, 2, 3.

I also have my own fic list here.

the only way out is through (and other lies) by c_violet @peakotp 13k words. Complete. Rating T. Wilhelm never got out of the car that sunny, terrible June day. His moment of clarity is... delayed. A collection of ficlets, all moments from a single post-finale AU, built around the Wille's Month 2024 prompts.

Follow the Sparks by emerybemery 80k words. Complete. Rating M. Wille agrees to fake date his friend Simon, thinking it will be a simple task, over before it really begins. He could not be more wrong.

and if my heart should somehow stop by @grapehyasynth 2k words. Complete. Rating T. When he told them that he hadn’t seen Wilhelm in three years, they had asked if Simon was available, if he could come down to a morgue in the west of the city, if he could identify a body. (Happy ending!) (Honourable mention to when I'm broken and bent, would you take me on the mend by the same author)

You’re the risk I want to take by @hergrandplan 41k words. Complete. Rating M. When Simon, an editorial assistant at one of Sweden’s most prominent commercial publishing houses, stumbles upon a manuscript sent in by a mysterious W. Viklund, he doesn’t expect it to be any good. He certainly doesn’t expect to fall in love with it.

kindling by intothelight @enjoythesilentworld 4k words. Complete. Rating E. While everything around them burns, Simon and Wille find comfort in each other. (Honourable mention to Tuesdays by the same author).

Foolproof by itsme_hi_imtheproblem @iwouldnevergetintofanfic 73k words. Complete. Rating E. When Prince Wilhelm and Simon Eriksson run into each other at a party, they are still very much heartbroken and determined to get their partners back. Or at least get thoroughly back at them.  (Honourable mention to The Winner Takes It All by the same author).

be the place you call home by phnelt @phneltwrites 30k words. Complete. Rating E. Post-canon, after winning an award, Simon attends his first royal reception as a guest. They deal with the fallout.

Cause That's What Love Is, Darling by technicallynotafan 4k words. Complete. Rating T. Simon loves being a parent - except on those rare days when he doesn't. A non-instagram-worthy bedtime at the Eriksson household.

Even If It's Just Us by queerfrogprince @thewaterloovases 20k words. WIP. Rating M. When Wilhelm loses his brother and is left alone with his grief, a pre-booked summer trip around Europe, and no one to take in Erik's place, he finds himself inviting Simon, his former high school best friend (and long-time crush).

When I'm in your arms by saynomore @saynomorefic 781 words. Complete. Rating T. Simon reflects on physical touch throughout his relationship.

Gold and Silver by signedmeraki @invisiblewille 6k words. Complete. Rating T. Normally the main fight at the Olympics is to see who gets first. But ever since Simon took the swimming world by a storm during the Rio Olympics in 2016, it's not been a question of who would get first, but who would join the Venezuelan swimmer and his equally accomplished Swedish rival on the podium in third.

Kyss mig meg dina röda läppar by @skibasyndrome 3k words. Complete. Rating T. Wille and Simon are friends sharing cherries at a picnic. (Honourable mention to One, two, three (Not only you and me) by the same author).

my rain soaked body was shaking (do you hate me?) by sundaisyHD @sundelionskyisland 2k words. Complete. Rating T. Simon has a bad night and calls Wille, his ex.

Incognito Mode by @oneofthosebells 78k words. WIP. Rating E. Wilhelm turns to camshows to help take the edge off, and maybe explore some of those repressed feelings a little bit further. It was never meant to lead to an all-consuming obsession, falling in love, and a whole load of shit hitting the fan.

[winchesterwild78]

Rekindled

Master List

Characters: Russell Shaw x Reader

Warnings: angst, mention of sex, fluff, heartbreak, language

A/N: I haven’t written a Russell fic yet and with him coming back to Tracker I wanted to test it out. Just a quick story about him. Written fast and edited fast. Maybe a few chapters.

All work is my own, used characters from the show Tracker, but this does not follow the story 

Minors DNI 18+

Russell had been a whirlwind, a force of nature that swept you off your feet. You’d met in high school, he was about 2 years older, but your shared love of literature sparked a connection that ignited into a wildfire. Your days were filled with stolen glances, whispered secrets, and the intoxicating thrill of young love.

You spoke of a future together, of building a life filled with laughter, love, children, and shared dreams. And then, one night, under the soft glow of the moon, your love deepened in a way that forever changed you. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated intimacy that solidified your bond.

But fate had other plans. A cruel twist of destiny tore you apart when Russell's father passed away unexpectedly. He disappeared, leaving behind a gaping hole in your heart and a shattered future. You mourned the loss of the man you loved and the life you’d envisioned together.

Years passed, and you had learned to live with the pain. Then one night unexpectedly Russell came back into town. He was older, life had been hard on him, and his family was still ripped apart from that cruel night years ago.

You were working at the local bar, working your way through college and trying to make a better life for yourself. Who would have thought you, a straight A, honor student wouldn’t go to college right after high school. Like Russell, fate had other plans for you. After Russell left, your life spiraled. Your parents split, and then your mom got sick and couldn’t work. With Russell gone, you had nobody to turn to. So while your friends were going to college, you worked full time to help support the household. 

Now that your mom was better, you were able to work and go to school. So here you were, thirty something, waiting tables in the local bar for a measly paycheck and tips. As you cleared a table you heard someone call your name from behind you. “Hey there sweetheart.” That deep, smooth voice sent a shiver down your spine. 

Turning and looking in the direction of the voice, you were met with the green eyes you had fallen in love with all those years ago. “Russell, it’s good to see you. You’re looking good.” You offered him a soft smile. Russell smirked, looked you up and down, “So are you darlin’.”

You blushed, “What can I get for you?” You asked him as he took a seat. “I’ll have a whiskey.” You nodded and walked towards the bar. You bit your lip as you glanced back at Russell. His eyes were locked onto you. 

When the bartender handed you the drink, you walked it over and sat it down. “Anything else?” You asked as your heart thumped widely in your chest. Russell’s tongue darted out, licking his bottom lip, “Maybe your number, so we can catch up.” Your breath hitched. You couldn’t fall for this man again, knowing he wasn’t staying in town. “I’ll think about it.” You said as you started to walk away. Russell gently grabbed your arm, “Sweetheart, I need to talk to you. I need to explain.” “No you don’t Russell, I get it. After your dad died it was easier to leave than to stay and face the pain. It’s okay, really.” Russell ran his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. “Y/N, I want to talk to you, you deserve an explanation. I’ve hated how I left you. I was in love with you, and then dad died and mom told me to leave.” 

Your heart ached for him, for the love you two shared. You didn’t know his mother told him to leave. Maybe you should give him a chance to explain. Taking a deep breath, you pulled out your pad of paper and a pen, jotting down your number, you slid it to him. “I get off at 10. Call me and I’ll meet you somewhere.” Russell took the paper and nodded. As you turned to walk away he called your name, “Y/N, I want you to know I never stopped loving you.” 

You nodded and turned away quickly before he saw the tears that filled your eyes. Running to the back, the tears fell fast and heavy. Your heart was torn between the love you shared and the hurt that filled you when he left. Your co-worker Adam came in the back and saw you crying. “Hey, Y/N, are you okay?” You wiped your eyes and face, “Yeah. I’m okay. Just some old baggage I guess.” He nodded and looked at you with concern in his eyes, but he let it go.

A few hours later as your shift was coming to an end, you noticed Russell still hadn’t left the bar. You were clearing tables and wiping them off. You approached his table, “You ready to settle your check? I’m about to leave.” He nodded, and handed you a $100 bill. “I’ll be right back.” You went to pay his tab, walking back to his table with the change you handed it to him. Your hand brushing against his. A shiver went through your body. He smirked and you turned red. “Well, Y/N, I’ll talk to you soon. How about I call you at 11?” You nodded, “Sure, that will give me plenty of time to head home, shower and change.” He nodded and you walked away. 

You noticed he had left the bar, and when you walked over to his table to clear it you saw his change, almost $60 on the table, with a note. Just a little tip for the cutest girl in the bar. -R You smiled and your heart fluttered. 

After your shift you went home, showered and changed. At exactly 11pm, your phone rang and it was Russell. “Hey Y/N. I told you I'd call at 11.” “You’re very punctual, Russell.” You laughed. “Can we meet, Y/N? I really want to talk to you face to face.” You bit your lip, part of you was terrified of meeting him in person, but another part of you was screaming to be back in his arms. “Sure, where?” You asked with a shaky voice. “Our spot” Russell replied softly. 

Your mind drifted back to the night you and Russell made love under the stars. He called it your spot, saying it would always be your spot. He’d carved yours and his initials into the tree that stood guard over the two of you. “Sure, I’ll be there in about 5 minutes. See you soon, Russell.” “See you soon, Y/N.” 

Hanging up, you grabbed your jacket and purse. Looking in the mirror before leaving you felt the same butterflies you had all those years ago. You smiled, looking at yourself in the mirror. Seeing the young girl behind the tired eyes looking back at you.

About 5 minutes later you were pulling up to the lake. You noticed Russell standing, leaning against his gorgeous car. The top was up, he was standing with his arms folded over his chest and his feet crossed at the ankles. You bit your lip, god this man was gorgeous. Knowing you were in trouble, because you were still deeply in love with him.

He smiled and pushed off his car as you put yours in park, “Hey Y/N. I’m glad you could make it.” He pulled you into his arms and hugged you. Inhaling deeply, he smelled heavenly, and like home. His arms felt like home, he was your home.

“Y/N, I have so much I want to say to you. I just don’t know where to begin.” You touched his chest softly and looked into his eyes, “Just start at the beginning. Why did you leave me?” Russell took a deep breath, “My mother told me to leave after her and I got into a fight that night. There’s a lot of things that happened with my parents that I didn't understand until recently. They were doing some really shady things, illegal things. That’s why dad was paranoid and had us living off the grid. I ran into a guy recently and got my hands on some files. I think my dad was murdered and I believe my mom knows who did it. I’ve reached out to Colter, and he’s supposed to meet me here in a few days. I came in early because I wanted to see you. I wanted to let you know I never stopped loving you, Y/N. I wanted that life we talked about.” Your breath hitched, “Russell, I don’t know what to say. I wanted that life too. I guess life, fate had other plans for us. You’ve moved on and so have I.” 

Russell gasped softly, “I see.” His eyes filled with sadness. Your heart clenched. Being with him, in that spot. The spot where you both gave so much of yourselves to each other was becoming overwhelming. “Russell, I don’t know what to say.” You touched his face softly and he leaned into your touch. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I never should have left you.” 

“Russell, you didn’t have a choice. I understand.” He cupped your face just as the rain started to fall from the sky. He leaned in and hesitated. Stopping, to give you the chance to pull away. You leaned into him, your lips ghosting over his. The kiss was soft at first. Your lips trembled against his. 

As the rain fell harder, Russell slid his hands in your hair and pulled you further into the kiss. Your tongues dancing and fighting for dominance. You moaned into his mouth and he smirked against yours. All these years, the love was still there. The two of you pulled away, panting and gasping for air. 

Your clothes soaked from the rain. Russell pulled you flush to his body. The warmth of his embrace was a stark contrast to the chill from the rain. He leaned to your ear, “Let’s get out of here.” You nodded and he pulled you by your hand to his car. Getting into the car, Russell started it and headed towards his hotel room. 

When he pulled up, the neon No Vacancy sign was casting a red glow over the car. You looked over at him, “Russell, what are we doing here?” “Just talking. Trying to bury the past, Y/N. I’m not trying to pressure you into anything.” 

You took a shaky breath in and let it out, “What if I want you to invite me in?” Russell turned and looked at you, “Then I’d ask you in.” You smiled softly and touched his arm, “I’d like that.” 

Russell turned off the car, got out and walked to your side. He opened the door and led you inside his room. 

Once inside he closed the door with his foot, locked it and took you in his arms. The heat between the two of you was undeniable. As the wet clothes you were wearing were shed, whispers and confessions of love were shared. The two of you tumbled into the bed and tangled your bodies with the sheets. 

By the end of the night, the two of you were breathless and fully satisfied. You laid in Russell’s arms as he held you tightly. “I love you, Y/N. I’m so sorry I left you.” “I know you are, Russell. I love you too.” He pulled you closer and kissed your head, “Come on sweetheart, let’s get some sleep.” You drifted off to sleep in his arms. 

The next few days you two spent making up for lost time and being back in each other’s arms. You never stopped loving him. After his meeting with Colter, you felt something shift between you. He seemed distant and angry. You tried to get him to talk to you, to open up to you.

“Russell, please talk to me. What happened with Colter?” “Nothing! Don’t worry about my families, troubles.” He snapped, catching you off guard. Tears filled your eyes. “I think you should leave, Y/N. This isn’t going to go where you think it will.” You gasped and quietly looked at him, grabbing your bag and stepped into the crisp air. Russell sat on the bed of his hotel room and watched you walk out. Everything in his body was screaming at him to go after you, but he just sat there. 

As you climbed in your car, you sat there and sobbed. Your heart breaking all over again. How could you be so stupid to think he would stay again. Just a means to an end, to help him pass the time until he met with his brother. You hit the steering wheel, and screamed. Fuck you Russell! You selfish bastard. 

 *Time Jump 3 years*

You’d built a new life after graduating with your degree, but a part of you remained forever tied to the man who had stolen your heart and swept you off your feet again 3 years ago. Partly because of the child your passionate nights together had created. A son, who looked just like his father, and was a constant reminder of the joy and pain left in Russell’s absence.

Then, one day, Russell returned. You saw him across the street, his presence sending a jolt of recognition through you. As he approached, memories flooded back. The way he used to laugh, his infectious smile, the softness in his eyes. You realized that despite the years, the love you felt for him had never truly faded. And as he looked at you, you could see the same longing in his eyes. Your heart was torn between the love you still felt and the hurt left in his wake.

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice is deep and smooth like whiskey. “Hey, Russell.” You replied, trying to steady the tremble in your voice. He stepped closer to you, “Can I hug you?” He asked. You bit your lip nervously, and shook your head yes. He pulled you flush to his chest and his strong arms wrapped around you. Sending your mind reeling and your heart racing. 

When he let you go, he looked into your eyes, “You’re still as beautiful as I remember.” “Thank you, Russell. How have you been?” You asked him. “I’ve been okay. Just doing some private security, I’m helping Colter on a case. What about you? Are you married, have any kids?” 

You bit your lip and looked up into his green eyes, “No, I’m not married, but I do have a son. He’s almost 3.” 

“Wow, sweetheart, 3?” Russell asked with wide eyes. Then it was like a moment of clarity washed over him. His green eyes meet yours. Tears filled your eyes. You hadn’t told him or even Colter that you were pregnant with Russell’s baby. 

You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t risk him breaking your heart or your son’s heart. When you found out you were pregnant about a month after he left you weighed your options. You weren’t sure you could finish school and have a baby, but your mother offered to help so you could. 

You had your son and finished your degree, now you were working at your dream job, had a place of your own and an amazing son. 

You fidgeted with your hands and shifted. Looking back into his eyes, you saw they were full of questions. Taking a shaky breath you decided to tell him.

“Russell, he’s yours.” Russell’s eyes went wide, “What? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come back for you, for both of you.” “Would you have, really? I clearly remember you telling me this wasn’t going to go the way I thought it would. I thought we would be together, have children together. I guess those few nights we spent together was just a means to an end for you until Colter came to town. You so easily walked away from me, threw me away. Why would I put my son through that?! He deserves so much better than that!”

Your chest was heaving and tears were streaming down your face. Russell’s eyes softened and flashed with a mixture of embarrassment and regret. He stepped closer to you and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you, again. After my meeting with Colter, I got scared. I didn’t want to pull you into this shit. It’s crazy and complicated. Fuck! I have been in love with you since we were teenagers. I never married because no one ever compared to you. You have always and will always be the love of my life, Y/N.”

Without warning he placed a soft kiss on your lips while he cupped your face. You moaned into his mouth. As the two of you pulled apart, he wiped the tears that stained your face. “Russell, I’m scared. I don’t want him to be hurt. He would love to meet you. I’ve always told him his daddy was away helping people and one day he’d come home. I don’t want you to come into his life, into my life again and break our hearts. I can’t go through that again, and he shouldn’t have to.”

Russell nodded, “I know. All I can say is if you let me into your lives, I promise I won’t leave you again. I love you, and I want to meet our son. It’s your choice. I’ll wait for you to make the decision, text me when you decide. Either way, I’m going to help you support him. Can I at least see a picture of him?”

You nodded and pulled out your phone showing Russell a picture of the spitting image of himself, sandy brown hair, big green eyes, dimples and a mischievous grin. Russell smiled softly and looked at you, “He looks just like me. What’s his name?” You chuckled softly, “Russell Jr., I wanted him to have your name and yes he looks just like you. He’s definitely wrapped around my finger for sure.” 

Russell couldn’t take his eyes off the photo. The photo of your son, of his son. He’d always dreamed of having children with you, but seeing your son took his breath away. 

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Sorry I made you leave and that I left you alone in all of this. I can’t imagine what you went through to have him and finish school.” He stepped up to you and took you in his arms again, “I promise you’ll never have to do anything alone again. No matter what you decide, I’ll always be there for you and our son. I love you.” 

You swallowed hard, “I still love you too, Russell. I never stopped. Please don’t make me regret this, but I’d love for you to meet our son.” Russell stepped closer, face inches from your lips. “When?” Russell asked softly as his hot breath ghosted your lips. “What about tonight?” You replied as you leaned closer to him. “I’d love that.” He said as he kissed your lips. You knew right then your heart still belonged to Russell, and his heart belonged to you. 

Tags are open, if you want to be added, let me know.  

Tags: 

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@superrey @kamisobsessed

[kiarastromboli]

Teach me 4 (Chris Sturniolo x y/n)

Part. 1 Part.2 Part.3

Mesterlist.

Warning: Bit of angst, Smut content, don’t like it = don’t read it :)

Summary: Two years have passed since Chris and Y/N's breakup. Many things have changed, but apparently not the feelings Y/N has for Chris. But how will her return to Boston for the summer holidays unfold when she knows she hasn't moved on?

Note : I'm sorry for making you wait so long for this fourth part. I just wanted to make sure I did it right. Despite everything, I'm still afraid this part won't please you as much, and I apologize if the result isn't what you expected. I did my best.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

"Julia, stop, that's enough," I said, bursting into laughter at the excited screams of my best friend on the other end of the line.

"Stop?? It's been almost 2 years since we last saw each other, y/n. How do you expect me to keep calm when I'm going to see you in less than 24 hours?" She said, overexcited, and I could hear her fidgeting in every direction.

Indeed, it had been a while since I left Boston. After my parents sent me to the other side of the country, I started researching universities nearby. At the end of high school, I wasted no time in enrolling and starting my studies.

I had successfully completed my first year at the university, and now it was summer vacation. My parents agreed to let me return to Boston to enjoy my break with them and my friends.

As for my relationship with my parents... Let's say things are different, but the distance imposed on us did me good. I had finally started to live for myself, and many things had changed in my life. As for them, they were content because my results were excellent, and they could see that I had gained autonomy and maturity since my departure.

Anyway, two years had passed, and my life had changed a lot, but I was so happy to finally be back in Boston.

"Yeah, I know," I said, chuckling. "I can't wait to see you and the others," I said, turning around to lie on my back in my bed.

"We'll have to organize a party for your return!" Julia screamed in my ears.

"No, Ju, please, that's enough," I said, moving the phone away from my ear a bit, which she had just shattered again.

"Huh huh, anyway, you don't have a choice. Mom's not here for 3 days, and it's perfect for the party we're going to have when you get back!" She said, emphasizing the word 'party.'

"Juliaaaa!" I said, sighing. "Who are you even planning to invite to this party? It's not like I had a hundred friends back in high school," I said, laughing.

"We don't care, y/n. Who would refuse a party in a big house during summer vacation? I'll invite our group of friends and then check with the old art group from high school." She started to say, "Oh, and why not the football team! And the lacrosse team and the school mascot! Oh my god, I wonder if he still has his costume; that would be hilarious!" She said, laughing.

The Lacrosse team, Chris.

From that moment on, my mind went on pause, and I didn't really pay attention to what Julia was saying.

It had been so long since I had heard about him. After my departure, I hadn't received any news from him. And it was my fault. Every time Julia tried to talk to me about him, I immediately shut down. I thought with time the pain would fade, but it was false. Four months after my departure, my heart still bled as much as the last time he passed by my window. I had done everything to stop thinking about him and turn the page, and I had done it so well that I almost forgot that by returning to Boston, I would also be returning to him.

"Y/n, are you listening?" Julia said, raising her voice, bringing me back to reality.

"Huh? What? Sorry, Julia, I'm exhausted. I think I need to rest for tomorrow; the journey will be long. Can I call you back later?" I said, stuttering a bit, still destabilized by my thoughts.

"Yeah, sure, don't worry. See you tomorrow. Love you, bye," she said warmly.

"Love you, bye," I said with a small smile before hanging up and placing my phone next to me.

Chris.

Is it normal that my heart still bleeds so much for a high school crush? Am I just too sensitive? Is it because he's the only man I've ever let into my heart until now?

Questions kept piling up in my mind, and no matter how much I shook my head, they wouldn't leave me.

Anxiety eventually took over the excitement. What will happen if we see each other again? Will we even meet? Does he still think about me too? Is his heart still bleeding as well? Did he drown in sorrow when our story ended?

More and more questions. I better close my eyes; tomorrow is a big day...

_______

My morning passed extremely quickly. I woke up a bit late, so I was in a hurry. I got ready quickly, gathered my things, and said goodbye to my roommate not to miss my flight.

My parents picked me up at the airport, and I didn't expect warm hugs, but it was still hurtful to barely get a 'how are you?' The whole ride to the house was filled with discussions about my results and how my life was going there.

It had been a while since I saw them, so I just decided to suck it up, smile, and play the perfect little girl I always portrayed in Boston.

"No, I'm just saying that just because your results are satisfactory doesn't mean you don't need extra courses, you know, those things look good on your record," my mother continued to ramble when we finally arrived home.

God, this journey felt longer than my high school years!

"Yeah, I know, Mom. I'll think about it; can we discuss it later? I'm tired," I said before leaving the car.

Once my suitcase was unpacked, I thought I would have a moment of respite to finally collapse into my bed and rest from this exhausting start to the day. But that was without counting on the stormy arrival of my best friend.

"Y/NNNNN!!!" she screamed, rushing towards me to hug me.

With fatigue and confusion, it took me a few seconds to realize it was indeed her standing in front of me, and suddenly, I felt overwhelmed by my emotions. Tears started to well up, blurring my vision.

"Oh my god, Ju'!" I said, stammering and nervously laughing.

"If you start crying, you know I'll cry too, so stop that right now," she warned me, furrowing her brows not to start crying herself.

"Sorry, sorry!" I said, chuckling and wiping my eyes. "I missed you so much!!" I said, shaking my hands before hugging her again.

I spent the rest of my day with her, talking about everything that had changed in my life since my departure, and for the first time in a long time, I felt genuinely good.

I felt like I was recharging, regaining all the positive energy I had been missing.

"Anyway, you know me; I wasn't going to let a jerk like him talk to me like that. So, I preferred to end our relationship, and it's for the best!" Julia told me.

She had just told me about her latest relationship with one of the lacrosse team players from our high school, and as usual, I couldn't help but think of him.

"Are you sure everything's okay, y/n? Since I started talking about Tom, I feel like you're not really here anymore?" she asked, concerned.

"No! Well, yes, it's okay; don't worry. It's just that—" I began to say before cutting myself off with a sigh. "It's nothing; it's just my return here made me rethink everything that happened before I left," I confessed.

"You mean what happened with Chris?" she said, giving me a sympathetic look. "Sorry, I know we're not supposed to talk about him. Excuse me, I forgot—" she added before I interrupted her.

"No, Julia, it's fine; it's okay. I'm better; I assure you it doesn't bother me anymore," I lied, smiling and grabbing her hand. "I'm better, I promise it doesn't bother me anymore," I lied.

"You know I love you," she said, smiling and squeezing my hand.

"Yeah, I know, I love you too," I replied, chuckling.

After this little discussion, Julia stayed overnight at my place. I eventually gave in and agreed to have the party at her house.

Deep down, I had a bit of hope to come across Chris. I know I shouldn't, but it's stronger than me...

I mean, I would like to know what he's become. Has he continued with lacrosse? Did he go to university? Or has he found a job he's passionate about? Does he still smoke? Has he rebuilt his life with other girls after me?

In a way, I wanted to know to reassure myself that he was doing better and that what I did didn't hurt him too much.

But on the other hand, selfishly, I hoped he had waited for me, that he hadn't seen other girls, and that he was still hoping, just like me, that one day we would meet again.

And God, I know how contradictory it is of me to hope for that when that night I made it clear to him that there would be no chance of things working out. But no matter how much I fought against what I wanted, I knew that my heart was still in his hands, and his alone.

I hate myself for being so stupid and not being able to move on, even though it was just a relationship between two completely lost teenagers for a few weeks.

But I had never experienced anything so genuine. Every conversation, every look, every caress, and every kiss haunt me...

They're still there in a corner of my mind, even though I try to push them away and tell myself it's for the best. My soul screams at me to find his. Maybe that was my punishment—for making him believe that our story could last, for making him believe that the girl he truly loved existed when it wasn't the case.

_________

"Are you sure it doesn't bother you that the lacrosse team is here tonight?" Julia asked me for the hundredth time today.

After our little pajama party at my place last night, we went to her place in the afternoon to prepare for the party tonight.

We were finishing getting ready, and people were supposed to arrive any minute.

"Ju', as I've repeated to you throughout the day, it's fine, it doesn't bother me. And besides, if you don't invite the lacrosse team, what excuse will you find to invite your little Tom and make him regret it?" I said mockingly to tease her.

"Ahaha, very funny. You know very well that I would have found a way, one way or another, to make him regret it!" she added, giving me a playful punch on the shoulder, making me chuckle.

"No, more seriously, y/n, if you're not ready to see Chris tonight, I don't mind kicking the lacrosse team out of the party," she added, becoming serious again.

I sighed before responding, "You know, anyway, I can't ignore him for the rest of my life."

"Julia, I know you're worried about me, but it's behind me, I promise it'll be fine," I reassured her with a reassuring smile.

She began to open her mouth to reply, but she was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell at the entrance.

"Well, it looks like the party is about to start!" she said all hysterical, and I followed her downstairs to welcome the first people.

In the span of thirty minutes, the house filled with teenagers ready to have a blast.

There were mostly people from our old high school; we barely knew half of them, but as Julia had told me, no one refuses a party in a big house like hers during the summer vacation.

It quickly turned into chaos; people were absolutely everywhere, and bottles of alcohol were aplenty, but still no sign of Chris on the horizon.

The party was in full swing; it was almost midnight, and in my despair of not seeing Chris show up, I ended up giving in and joining the game like everyone else, downing drinks one after another, which was not really in my usual habits.

Maybe it was better this way; the more alcoholic beverages passed through my throat, the less Chris haunted my mind. After all, maybe that was my solution.

"Oh, shit, sorry!" I said, bumping into a guy with my head down, making him drop his phone.

I bent down to pick it up before him, and when I raised my head, I came face to face with a face I knew all too well.

"Y/n?" the tall brunet said, looking surprised.

It took me a few seconds to realize it was indeed Matt in front of me.

Chris's brother...

"Oh my god, Matt," I said, surprised. "You're the last person I expected to see tonight!" I said, chuckling.

"And I thought you were on the other side of the country!" he said, also chuckling before opening his arms to hug me.

"What are you doing here?" he asked once our embrace was over.

If I had been a little more sober, this situation would probably have worried me, but at the moment, I was just happy to see him. Matt and I had spent very little time together, but just enough for meeting him at this party to make me super happy.

"I came back for the holidays," I replied, smiling.

"Oh, that's great," he said, smiling too. "You could have at least let us know!" he added, laughing.

"Hey, relax, I just arrived yesterday," I said, rolling my eyes.

Our conversation quickly ended, giving way to an awkward silence. So, without really thinking, I asked him the first question that came to my mind, "Did you come alone ?"

"Oh, um..." he began to say before taking a pause, as if he didn't really know if he should continue or not. "No, I came with my brothers," he said, clearing his throat and running his hand over his neck.

Chris is here.

Suddenly, everything clicked in my head; it was obvious how stupid my question was.

My head started spinning; alcohol seemed to take hold of me even more. It was as if realizing he was there for real had suddenly spiked my blood alcohol level.

"Are you okay, y/n?" he said, placing his hand on my shoulder, looking worried as he saw me pale.

"Um, yeah - yeah, don't worry, I'm just - I've had a bit to drink, you know, it's not really my thing!" I said with a nervous laugh, trying to hide my distress at the moment.

"Do you want me to get you a glass of water? Or something else? I'm sorry if it's me who put you in this state by talking about—" he started to say before I cut him off.

"No! - Matt, it's fine, everything's okay, it's not your fault. I'm just, I just need some fresh air, that's all," I added.

"Um, okay, do you want me to come with you?" he asked, and I could feel how uncomfortable he felt for me at that moment, and that was really the last thing I wanted.

"That's really nice, Matt, but it's okay, thank you. I'll be fine," I told him with a smile before walking towards the exit.

As I moved through the crowd, I prayed not to run into Chris. I didn't want to see him. I thought I was ready and that it was what I needed, but the state I am in right now proves otherwise.

Fuck this shit, I'm going to need more alcohol for sure to handle this.

In my rush towards the exit, I grabbed the first bottle of alcohol I saw lying around, whiskey - it couldn't get any harder.

Damn, will I ever manage to move on? Am I destined to feel like this for the rest of my days?

Finally reaching the front door, I felt my eyes fill with tears, making my vision completely blurry.

Once outside on the porch, I placed the bottle on the small coffee table there, sat on the outdoor couch, and allowed a few tears to flow.

I could hear the muffled sound of music inside, and paradoxically, the cicadas and the silence of the night outside.

A few minutes ago, I was fine, happy, enjoying the party with my friends, and it took me going back to thinking about him to ruin everything.

Physically, I wasn't doing that bad; I didn't feel the need to vomit or anything. I just had a bit of a spinning head and trouble standing up.

Mentally, though, it was a different story.

My sobbing was interrupted by a noise coming from a little further in the garden.

I raised my head with a start to scan the surroundings, wiping away my tears. I especially didn't want anyone to see the only girl crying at this party. I was already not considered a cool girl at school, but this would have been the icing on the cake.

There shouldn't be anyone outside; Julia had made it clear that she didn't want anyone in her mom's garden.

I spotted a silhouette in the dark, and eventually, I caught the smell of a joint. So, I sighed before getting up to get closer.

"Get out of here, idiot! Julia doesn't want anyone in her garden. It's not that complicated to follow such a simple rule," I shouted at the stranger, rolling my eyes.

He approached me until he reached the point where the porch light could illuminate him.

I took a step back, completely thrown off when I recognized his face.

"Sorry, I just got here. I didn't know we weren't allowed to hang out in the garden," he replied softly, keeping a reasonable distance from me.

"Chris?" that's all that could come out of my mouth at that moment; I was completely bewildered. What was I supposed to do at that moment?

My tears started to flow again, and I couldn't do anything to stop it.

Chris stood there, not saying anything. He was as lost as I was at that moment, but I could see that seeing me cry was far from a pleasant thing for him.

He seemed hesitant, shook his head, and muttered to himself, rolling his eyes, "Fuck this."

The next moment, he took me into his arms, letting my head rest against his chest. It was as if he understood without me needing to express myself.

I broke down, letting my tears flow; that's what I needed—his arms around me. He held me tight, and I simply didn't want this moment to end. With my right hand, I clung to his t-shirt as if my life depended on it.

"Y/n, shhhh," he whispered, caressing my hair when my breathing became irregular due to my sobs.

I couldn't breathe; I felt suffocated. The more tears that fell, the worse it got, but, on the other hand, it felt good. All these emotions I had buried, all these tears I had prevented from flowing, were finally coming out.

"Y/n, calm down," he said, grabbing my cheeks with his hands and bringing his face to mine to look me in the eyes.

"Hey, look at me, look at me, breathe, everything's fine," he reassured me, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"I-I'm so—" I tried to speak, but I couldn't stop crying.

"I'm so sorry, Chris," I said with a broken and fragile voice, shaking my head.

"Y/n, it's okay, stop," he said, pinching his lips, and I could see tears welling up in his eyes, despite his efforts to suppress them.

"What I did—" I started, trying to calm down, "what I did to you—I had no right to do that. I'm sorry, Chris," I said, letting my head fall once again against his chest and starting to cry even harder.

"Y/n," he said, seizing my face again to look at me, "Y/n, I’m not mad at you. Look at me, I'm fine, everything's fine; it's behind us."

"It's not behind me, Chris," I told him, shaking my head and stepping back.

"It's not behind me at all. It continues to eat me up inside every day! I tried for two years!" I told him with a forced laugh, wiping my tears. "Two years, Chris, two years trying everything to get you out of my head and to stop hoping that things would go back to normal!" I added.

"Y/n—" he said, passing his hand over his face before I cut him off.

"How can you not resent me after what I did to you!?" I said, completely lost.

"Because that's life, y/n!" he said, raising his voice and advancing towards me.

"Because people come in and out of your life, tearing your heart out against their will!" he added, and I just closed my mouth; I didn't expect him to express himself like this.

"Y/n, I could have chosen to hate you, yes, it's true! I could have chosen to keep acting like an idiot and keep destroying myself slowly, as I did in the first months after you left!" he continued to say, carried away by his emotions.

"But what would it have served? What would it have served to keep making the same mistakes all my life?" he asked, and I simply nodded, dumbfounded.

"Y/n, I tried to hate you to make the pill go down more easily, believe me. But how could I hate a girl like you?" he asked, tears in his eyes.

"How could I hate the only woman who managed to open my heart and show me that there's always hope?" he continued, this time advancing towards me, and my heart started racing in my chest.

"I got my act together because you deserved someone better. You deserved to know that I was doing well, and I knew! Believe me, I knew how much you blamed yourself," he said, wiping my tears.

"That night when you told me straight in the eyes that you no longer loved me and that you no longer believed in us, I knew you were lying to protect me," he said, and I felt tears flowing again.

"You lied to me to protect me without even thinking about yourself. You put me before you, where no one had done it before," he continued, tapping his chest.

"Chris—" I said with a weak voice.

"No, I don't blame you, y/n. I don't blame you because I know you simply didn't have the choice to do that," he said, wiping my tears.

"And these last two years, I lived in doubt because I wasn't sure 100%, but when I saw your gaze on this porch, all my doubts flew away, and now I know," he said, plunging his eyes into mine.

I looked into his eyes; I had managed to regain normal breathing, and everything he had just told me had calmed my heart.

The open wound in my chest, bleeding and letting all my distress pour out, was closing.

I didn't know what to add; I didn't know what to say to him. It felt like a million things were happening in my mind, but what could it possibly mean?

And then my thoughts escaped my mind, fixating on his blue eyes, his pure eyes, his sincere gaze fixed on me.

I had forgotten how beautiful this man was.

I became aware of his warm hands on my cheeks; my heartbeat quickened, and I thought I saw a glint of desire growing in his eyes.

The silence became heavy, yet neither of us wanted to say anything.

Our faces slowly approached, and my eyes juggled between his and his lips.

What was happening? Was it supposed to be good? Or bad?

I wanted to throw myself at him, yes, but was it correct? Was it the alcohol? Did I misinterpret what was happening?

"Chris—" I said in a soft, almost inaudible voice before he closed the gap between our lips.

Shivers ran through my entire body; it was soft and so good.

His soft lips moved perfectly against mine.

One of his hands resting on my cheek slid down to the small of my back.

Meanwhile, my two hands found their place on his chest, and our kiss deepened.

This kiss, originally meant to say ‘welcome home’, quickly became more profound.

Our tongues collided; things escalated. The hand that rested on my waist descended to grip my hip, while one of my hands left his chest to settle on the side of his neck.

I felt something reignite in me, something I hadn't felt in a very long time: desire.

I became aware of what was happening, and I snapped out of this trance by stepping back and opening my eyes.

I caught my breath before telling him, "Chris."

"I'm sorry," he said, catching his breath too.

"We can't do this; we can't revisit this. I'm back in Boston only for the holidays," I said, shaking my head, trying to think of something else.

"Sorry, I don't know what came over me; I shouldn't have." he said, running his hand through his hair.

"It's okay," I said, stepping towards him and placing my hand on his shoulder.

"I just found you again when I didn't think I'd have this chance; I want to do things right," I confessed.

"So, does that mean we're friends now?" he asked, and his question tore at my heart because, of course, I didn't want to be just friends. But things were too complicated for us to allow anything more.

"Yes, it means we're friends," I said, smiling slightly, and he returned a smile.

"I missed you," he said, hugging me.

"Missed you too," I replied, "feels like it's been ages since we last caught up," I added, chuckling.

"You must have hundreds of things to tell me then," he said, separating and smiling.

"I don't want to spoil your evening with my stories; it can wait," I told him, running my hand through my nape.

"Y/n, I went out to smoke a joint alone because this party is really lame," he said, rolling his eyes, "so believe me, I'd rather sit here with you and listen to everything you have to tell me."

"Hey, it's my comeback night, you're not allowed to say it's lame!" I told him, offended, giving him a shoulder punch.

"Okay, okay, sorry!" he said, laughing, before sitting on the couch, and I followed suit.

He took a joint out of his pocket, and before lighting it, he turned to me. "Hmm, want some?"

"Oh no, thanks, I'll stick to this tonight," I said, grabbing the bottle I'd left on the small table.

"Whiskey?" he said, surprised, "who are you?" he joked.

"Shut up, idiot, I grabbed the first bottle I came across on my way here," I said, rolling my eyes.

The conversation flowed naturally between us; it was almost as if we had never been apart. Of course, in two years, both he and I had changed a lot, so it was a bit strange. However, that connection, that complicity we had, seemed intact.

I'm not sure how long we stayed on that porch, talking, but the bottle I had drunk was already half empty, and Chris must have been on his third joint since the beginning of our conversation.

"I can't believe you told him that!" Chris said, laughing.

"I warned you; I'm not the helpless little girl I used to be," I replied, chuckling and shrugging.

"Yeah, I saw that," he said, gradually stopping his laughter.

The silence returned, and I was lost in my thoughts, already quite tipsy and in a curious mood.

I had been hesitating for several minutes, debating whether to ask him a question. The more I drank, the more I wanted to ask, even though I knew it wasn't the best idea.

"Chris?" I finally said softly, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" he simply replied, turning his head towards me.

"Can I ask you a question?" I asked him timidly.

"You just did," he said with a smirk.

"No, seriously, stop it!" I said, laughing and giving him a shoulder punch.

He straightened up, turning completely towards me, resting his head on his hand with his arm leaning against the top of the couch. "Seriously, I'm listening," he said, still with that sly smile.

His eyes were red and squinted because of the weed, and I won't lie, it made him quite sexy... or maybe I had had a bit too much to drink; what was I even saying?

"Have you dated other girls since we broke up?" I asked, instantly regretting it.

"Y/n—" he began before I cut him off.

"Sorry, that was a dumb question. I don't know what got into me," I said, hiding my face with my hands.

He chuckled at my action. "It's okay; I don't mind answering if you answer too..." he said, shrugging.

I removed my face from my hands to look up at him.

"But are you sure you really want to hear my answer?" he added.

I just nodded.

"I've slept with other girls, yes," he began, and I cut him off without thinking.

"How many?" I asked, sitting up.

"I don't really know, two or three, but they were just casual things, especially at the beginning when I needed to distract myself," he explained, feeling the need to justify himself.

"Okay... and why?" I asked.

"Why what?" he asked, confused.

"Why casual? In two years, you had plenty of time to find another amazing girl to be with. You can't make me believe that as the first one to fall for you, no other girl wanted you," I said, rolling my eyes.

"I didn't want to..." he confessed to me. "I— " he started before sighing, "I'm not sure if it's a good idea to explain why," he said, looking away.

"No, tell me; I want to know now," I urged him.

"Y/n," he said, looking me in the eyes.

"Chris, please, it's okay; we're just talking," I said, eager to know more.

"None of those girls were comparable to you," he admitted, "and I know it sounds silly, but it's just the truth. I couldn't get interested in those girls, and it wasn't their fault; they were interesting, and in another context, it might have worked with them," he said honestly.

"But my mind kept comparing them to you; none of them talked like you," he started saying, "none of them laughed like you," he added.

"None of them kissed like you," he said, looking at my lips, and I felt my panties dampen at that. Fuck.

"Every time I slept with another girl, I couldn't help but think of you, your body, and your moans," he said, lost in his thoughts.

"I couldn't stop thinking about how your lips wrapped so perfectly around me," he said, and I had to slightly open my mouth to get more air.

He shook his head, snapping back to reality. "Anyway, until now, I haven't been able to settle down with another girl because the only one I have in my mind is you," he said shyly.

I stared at him, mouth agape. I was dying to have him; everything he just told me had me way too excited.

"And you?" he asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"What?" I said, clearing my throat.

"And you, have you dated other guys?" he said, chuckling.

"Oh!" I said, blushing. "No, none," I replied timidly.

"None?" he repeated, surprised, and I simply shook my head from side to side.

"And how many guys have you slept with then?" he asked.

I took a moment to answer, embarrassed by the situation.

"Y/n, it's okay; you can tell me. I just told you mine!" he said, rolling his eyes.

"I-" I said before sighing and biting my lip, and he furrowed his brows.

"None..." I said softly.

His eyes widened at my response.

"Are you serious?" he asked to make sure.

"Stop it; you know very well that I'm not the type to sleep around," I said, feeling awkward.

"No, I know that; it's just hard for me to conceive that you've managed two years without sex," he said with a smirk.

"Wait, what does that mean?" I said, furrowing my brows.

"Y/n, when we were together, you played the innocent a lot, but you can't deny that you were just as horny as I was, if it’s not more…" he said, laughing.

"Chris!" I said, bringing my hand to my mouth before chuckling as well.

"No, I'm not saying it's a bad thing; on the contrary, it was something I loved about you," he said honestly.

"I even found it rather sexy..." he added, shrugging.

I squeezed my thighs together at that moment, and Chris noticed because I saw his eyes leave mine and land on my thighs.

"We should change the subject," I said, taking a deep breath and running my hands over my thighs, a bit embarrassed.

"Sorry, I didn't know it would have that effect on you," he said, unable to help but smile.

"It's okay," I said, biting my lip.

We looked at each other for a moment, both feeling a bit awkward.

His eyes briefly shifted to my chest, and that was the last straw for me.

Without thinking twice, I straddled him, immediately connecting our lips. He didn't waste a second to put his hands on my hips, making me moan.

He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth, and I started rocking my hips against him, making him groan in response.

His hands came to grip my hips to stop my movements, eliciting a frustrated groan from me.

"Y/n, this isn't right," he said, separating our lips.

"Chris, I don't care," I said, reconnecting our lips instantly. I was too hungry to stop there.

My hip movements resumed, and I could feel his erection through his jeans.

My hands were on his cheeks, and his hands firmly held my hips.

"You said we should do things right and that we were friends," he said, separating our lips again.

"Y/n, you've been drinking, and I don't want it to be something you regret tomorrow," he added.

"Some friends sleep together sometimes..." I said innocently, playing with his necklace.

He bit his lip and looked away. If there was one thing that could make this man weak, it was my way of acting innocently with him.

"Y/n," he said, closing his eyes and letting out a frustrated groan.

I knew I could make him crack; I just had to tease him enough.

I buried my head in his neck to kiss and leave a few love bites.

He tossed his head back to give me better access. "Fuck..." he whispered, and I slowly resumed my hip movements.

"Y/n, stop this," he said weakly, still with his fingers dug into my hips.

"Make me stop," I whispered in his ear before leaving a trail of kisses on his jawline.

"Y/n," he said in a firm voice this time, grabbing me by the neck to make me face him. "Don't play with my nerves like that."

"Chris, please," I said, gripping the wrist of the hand around my neck.

"I'm the one asking you. It's just a favor we're doing each other as friends," I said with a slight moan. "You help me fill the void I've felt for 2 years, and I give you the opportunity not to have to just imagine fucking me for once," I added.

"You said it yourself, no girl moans like me, no one kisses you like me, and their lips don't wrap around you as well as mine do," I continued to convince him.

"It's just a one-time thing. After that, I swear we'll be just friends for real, please, Chris, I need you," I pleaded.

I don't know if it was the alcohol or simply the lack of sex, but I never thought I'd be capable of saying such things to a guy in my life.

"Just a one-time thing?" he asked.

"Just a one-time thing," I replied, nodding.

"Fuck, this is so fucking wrong, y/n. What are you doing to me?" he said before kissing me again without removing his hand from my neck.

He slid his hand under my dress to grab my ass and massage it while helping me grind against him.

"Mmph, Chris," I moaned into our kiss.

"Shhhh," he said, slapping my ass.

I started pulling at his T-shirt to signal that I wanted him to take it off.

"Not here, princess," he said, smiling against my lips before separating them. "Stand up," he ordered, and I obeyed.

He stood up as well, firmly grabbing my hand before guiding us inside.

We quickly made our way through the crowd, passing by Nick, who tried to stop us, but Chris simply ignored him, too busy at that moment trying not to bend me over one of the tables in the house to fuck me in front of everyone.

We climbed the stairs, and Chris opened the first door he saw, which happened to lead to Julia's room. If she finds out about this, she's going to kill me.

He slammed the door shut behind us, making sure to lock it.

Then, he pressed me against that door, tightening his grip around my neck just enough to restrict the blood flow, causing my head to spin.

He wasted no time in forcefully removing my dress, it was so abrupt that he could have torn it if he wanted.

"Chris, be careful, take it easy," I said, chuckling, before he silenced me with yet another kiss.

"Don't ask me to fucking take it easy when you've spent the last 10 minutes teasing me on that damn couch, y/n," he said, removing his T-shirt.

He took off my bra, adding, "I fucking missed you."

The next moment, he slid his hands to the back of my thighs and lifted me, making me moan in surprise. It seemed like the hold he had on me back then hadn't changed.

He reconnected our lips, heading towards the bed where he tossed me, making me moan again from the sudden force.

"Chris," I sighed in a heated breath as I sat up, facing him at waist height.

But before I could reach for his belt to undress him, he violently pushed me back. "You'll move when I tell you to move. Have you forgotten your manners?" he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

His gaze was dark and intense; he could have threatened to kill me, and I would have moaned because of how much he affected me.

"Touch yourself," he ordered.

"What?" I said, feeling my face turn all red.

"Don't make me repeat myself; you heard me," he said authoritatively.

I swallowed hard before starting to take off my panties.

"I didn't tell you to remove your panties," he said, interrupting me.

"But—" I began to say before he cut me off.

"Is it so hard to be a good girl, Y/n? In two years, have you forgotten everything?" he said, shaking his head.

His words made me even wetter; I dreamed of one thing only: feeling him inside me.

"No, sorry," I said before starting to make circular motions on my clit through my panties.

He licked his lips, slowly removing his belt without taking his eyes off me.

"Stand up," he ordered.

Without hesitation, I stood up, still looking at him innocently in the eyes.

"You are so fucking beautiful, Y/n," he said, holding me by the chin.

His compliment made me immediately smile and blush.

"Your wrists," he asked, letting go of my chin, and I handed him my wrists.

With his belt, he tied my wrists together before kissing me.

He leaned towards me without breaking our lips to signal me to lie down on the mattress, which I did.

He separated our lips for a brief moment to press my arms above my head. "Don't move," he whispered before sliding his lips into my neck.

"My poor baby, I can't believe you've abstained for 2 years," he said before descending his kisses towards my chest.

"Now that I'm here, I'll take care of that for you, my princess," he said, circling one of my nipples with his lips to kiss it.

"Chris, please," I moaned, wriggling a bit.

"Shhhh, be patient, believe me, I won't stop there," he said before starting to descend his kisses towards my lower abdomen.

The closer he got to my thighs, the more I felt like I was losing my mind. It had been so long since I had felt that burning desire between my legs.

"Fuck, Chris, stop, please, I need you," I pathetically begged when he started to kiss my pussy through my panties.

He just chuckled at my pleas before removing my panties and diving his head between my legs.

He surrounded my clit with his lips, and I couldn't hold back the moans that escaped my mouth at that moment.

Lost in my own pleasure and especially completely carried away by the sensation of his tongue against me, I brought my two hands, still tied, to his hair to hold on.

He lifted his lips from me, making me raise my head towards him. "No, don't stop, Chris!" I said desperately.

"I told you not to move, Y/n," he reminded me, placing my hands back above my head.

"I'm sorry, I had—" I was interrupted in the middle of my sentence by his hands abruptly grabbing my waist to turn me over.

"What are you doing?" I said in a surprised moan when he grabbed my hips to put my ass in the air.

"This way, you'll have a much harder time moving," he said, and I could hear the smugness in his tone.

He kissed the base of my lower back, making me shiver, ensuring that my head remained pressed against the mattress below me.

He then placed a few kisses on my ass before resuming his work between my legs.

One of his hands kneaded my ass while he teased my entrance with the fingers of his other hand.

"Oh my—Chris," I said when he accelerated his tongue movements.

The sensation in my lower abdomen that I hadn't felt in so long was building up again; I was extremely close.

"C-Chris, I'm gonna cum," I moaned, burying my head in the pillow to try to muffle the sound of my moans.

"Give it to me, baby," he said, inserting two of his fingers into me and reconnecting his tongue to my clit.

"Fuck, Chris!" I exclaimed, feeling my legs tremble, and within seconds, my orgasm overwhelmed me.

Chris didn't detach his lips from me; he continued, and his fingers didn't slow down either. "Chris, I- I can't," I told him, breathless.

He detached himself from me at the sound of my words and turned me over again onto the mattress to kiss me.

I put my hands, still tied behind his neck, to bring him impossibly closer to me, which seemed to amuse him, judging by the way he smiled against my lips.

"You taste so fucking good, baby," he complimented me between our kisses, and I wrapped my legs around his waist.

I was still very sensitive, but I wanted more, I needed more.

So, I tightened my legs around his waist so that his erection pressed against my pussy.

"Are you that impatient?" he chuckled before reaching between our bodies to unbutton his pants, and I just nodded.

He straightened up to completely remove his pants and boxers before returning to position himself between my legs.

"If it hadn't been so long, I would've edged you for hours," he said, rubbing his tip against my thighs without entering.

"Chris, please, stop talking—" Before I could finish my sentence, he entered me without warning, making me moan in harmony with him.

"Oh my god, y/n, fuck, you're so—" I didn't let him finish his sentence, immediately capturing his lips in a passionate kiss.

He started moving inside me slowly, taking care to go all the way in with each thrust.

Our lips were still connected, our tongues perfectly synchronized—everything was perfect with him.

His pelvic movements accelerated, prompting me to throw my head back to moan once again.

"God, I'll never get tired of the sounds you make. Fuck, it's too good," Chris said, moaning as well, his head completely immersed in my neck, where he left fiery kisses.

"Chris—mmph," I started to speak but couldn't formulate my words correctly. Chris fucked me so well that I lost my words.

"What, baby? What do you want?" he said, seizing my chin to make me look into his eyes.

"I want to—fuck!" I said, moaning and closing my eyes. I felt him everywhere in me; it was too good.

"You can do it, sweetheart. Take your time," he said with a smirk, not slowing down.

"I want to touch you," I said, moaning again. "Please, Chris, I need to feel you," I begged.

He momentarily straightened up without pulling out to unfasten the belt around my wrists.

"Here you go, baby," he said in a soft voice before kissing me again.

This time, my hands went into his hair, neck, and back. I dug my nails into his back and biceps, completely controlled by my pleasure, and began to feel all these sensations invade me.

"Chris, oh my god, I'm so close!" I whined.

He sat up on his knees without pulling out. I moaned as he grabbed my legs and pulled them closer, penetrating even deeper.

"Mmmh, Chris," I moaned, raising my head to look at him.

"Shhhh," he said, placing my legs on either side of his head and encircling my knees with his arms to make sure I couldn't move.

He began thrusting into me at an unbearable speed, and the new angle allowed him to go really deep. His eyes were fixed on the lower part of my belly, where he could see himself entering and exiting. "Fuck," he exclaimed, keeping his mouth open.

"Chris! Chris, fu—god, don't stop!" I said, feeling my orgasm hit me hard when I started clenching around him. He spread my legs again to kiss me while still penetrating me, allowing me to ride out my orgasm.

He gradually stopped his pelvic movements while continuing to kiss me. Our kiss was tired and messy, but he didn't stop there.

We were both catching our breath. He separated our lips, pressing his forehead against mine. We stayed like that for a few seconds before he straightened up and withdrew from me, making me moan because I was still extremely sensitive.

I expected anything but what he did the next second. He grabbed me by the hips and turned me over again, pushing me on all fours.

"Chris, what—" Before I could finish my sentence, he started pounding into me without mercy, making me cry out in surprise and pleasure.

"Oh my fuck, Chris, I can't!" I told him, burying my head in the pillow once again.

"Yes, of course, you can. I know you have one more for me," he said without slowing down this time, bringing his fingers to my clit, making my eyes roll back in my head.

It felt so good, but I was still too sensitive; he didn't give me enough respite. I felt like my heart was going to give out from the intensity. I couldn't help but moan, even though I was unsure if I really wanted him to stop because I could already feel my third orgasm approaching.

"Do you really want me to stop?" he said in my ear, slowing down and pressing his chest against my back.

When he slowed down, I felt my orgasm slipping away, and I thought I was losing my mind. "No! Don’t stop, I can take it!" I said, shaking my head.

He wrapped his arm around my throat to hold me in place "that's my girl," he said and sank his teeth into my shoulder, mixing pleasure and pain in the best way possible. He sped up again, his fingers massaging my clit, and his shaft going as deep as possible, making me see stars.

I was close, and so was he; I could feel it in the way he moaned. "Y/n, oh my—"

"Chris, I'm so close," I cried, feeling my orgasm on the verge of exploding.

"Give it to me, baby. Fuck, cum for me, princess," he said, and that was all I needed to climax. This one was more intense than the others, stronger and more hypnotic.

After a few more thrusts, Chris also came, moaning my name in my ear. "Oh my god," he said, breathless, before pulling out and collapsing beside me.

I didn't move a muscle, too exhausted from everything that had just happened. "Are you okay, baby?" he asked, concerned, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just need to catch my breath," I replied, chuckling.

He laughed too before getting up to find something to clean me up. After a few minutes catching my breath in Chris's arms, we decided to get dressed and join our friends downstairs before someone noticed our absence.

And when I say someone, I obviously mean Julia, who will probably kill me when she finds out I slept with Chris in her bed.

Before leaving Julia's room, Chris kissed me one last time. "I missed you so fucking much," he said.

I chuckled before replying, "I missed you too, but we need to leave this room now." I said playfully, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.

We finally left the room, and our paths separated when we arrived in the living room because Nick needed to talk to Chris privately.

I was about to join my best friend when I felt someone grab my arm.

I turned to see who it was and found myself face to face with a girl with brown hair and light eyes.

"Who the fuck are you?" she asked me, full of rage.

I was completely confused because I didn't know this girl at all, and I didn't understand why she was addressing me this way.

"Hmm? Y/n, who are you?" I asked, furrowing my brows.

Her eyes widened when she heard my name, and she let out a fake laugh at my response.

"I'm Tess, Chris's girlfriend!" she said with a big smile before approaching me. "So I suggest you keep your distance from him if you don't want me to bash your little depraved slut face!" she said, pushing me before turning on her heel and walking away.

Chris's girlfriend?!!

What the fuck?

Taglist: @chrisloyalgf @christopherscamopants @blahbel668 @thematthewlover @mattsturnioloarchive @carolinalikesthings @bernardsgf @whicked-hazlatwhore @hearts4chris