#but she recommended I’d do the easier one

[cat-winterfield]

I just very spontaneously signed up for a mock dressage competition on Sunday?? someone in my riding group convinced me to join and now I have to memorise a new programme. Guess I’ll be playing a lot of star stable!

[hgfictionwriter]

Discovery - Part Four

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's feeling the lowest she has in a long time. Things are at the tipping point and she needs to choose to either confront things head on or lose you forever.

Warnings: G!P content. Heavy angst. Body image issues or even dysphoria; mental and emotional anxiety; internal conflicts; themes of rejection and self-loathing; self-sabotaging behaviours. Language.

A/N: Chapters one, two and three.

“I can’t believe you. I’ve waited all day to hear from you - and nothing. After everything that happened, you just leave in the middle of the night and just dead silence. Are you kidding me, Jess?”

“First you give me the cold shoulder all evening without any explanation as to why. Started by a conversation you began, might I add. I tell you I love you. We kiss and you literally throw me off of you.”

“Yes, I was upset and I didn’t want to talk. But you just ghost me all day? I know you withdraw when you’re upset or overwhelmed, but you don’t even have the decency to check in with me or give me some kind of an explanation?”

Jessie sunk into her seat on the couch as she read your messages again. She’d been staring at them on and off for the past hour and felt paralyzed, unable to act.

She’d managed to make it to training this morning, but she was certainly worse for wear. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had dark circles under them from a mix of sleep deprivation and the time she’d spent crying. Her teammates immediately clocked her upset and some fawned over her trying to suss things out and help, but she was largely unresponsive.

She just wanted to do her drills to keep her mind off of you and the absolute disaster she’d created.

Coach recommended she talk to the sports therapist, and while she nodded her agreement, she had no intention of rushing. She already knew what they’d say and she wasn’t interested right now. If she was willing to do those things, guess what, she wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament in the first place.

So here she sat at home this evening, in self-imposed solitude and catatonic. The apartment was dead quiet as she flipped between scrolling distractedly through her phone and re-reading messages with you and looking at pictures of the two of you.

She needed to respond. But it seemed no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t figure out what to say. Nothing was remotely adequate. She let out a shuddering breath as she continued to remain inert.

Her heart raced as another message came in from you.

“I’d like to think we’d built enough of a connection and you have enough respect for me to at least acknowledge me and respond. I’ve been sitting here making up excuses in my head for you all day, but reality is, you just choose not to talk to me.”

She let her head fall heavily back against the wall with a dull thud. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists as she felt herself start to tear up yet again.

The end felt inevitable, but underneath all of her fear and anxiety it isn’t what she wanted. It would be easier perhaps. Just close herself off again. Be single again for god knows how long. She was exceptional at pushing people away and pretending it didn’t matter.

Then, maybe, when it felt safe again and the hardship she was currently experiencing was just a distant memory, she would hope to meet someone as incredible as you again. But for what? So she could compare them to you? Miss you? To fuck it all up again?

She released a slow, steady breath and brought her phone back up to reply.

“I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner. I was at training earlier and I guess I just didn’t know what to say.”

“She lives. Well, thank you for replying... So. Do you know what you want to say now?”

She sighed in frustration.

“No.”

She shouldn’t be so curt.

“I wish I did.”

“Well. That’s very helpful.”

“I have some things I want to say. But if you’re not interested in hearing them or trying to resolve anything, I suppose there’s no point.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek.

“I want to know.”

“Do you actually? Because, frankly, even if I told you how I feel last night, I’m not that interested in humiliating myself further or wasting my time if we’re not on the same page.��

Jessie’s chest constricted painfully as she read your message. She never used to consider herself a selfish person, but seeing the toll she’d taken on you, she couldn’t deny it. She wiped angrily at a stray tear at the corner of her eye.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. You shouldn’t have to feel that way and I’m sorry I’ve caused it. I do want to hear what you have to say.”

“I don’t want to do this through text. It’s going to fucking suck but I want to talk in person.”

Jessie sat forward to the edge of the couch and leaned her forearms heavily against her thighs as she studied your message.

She was scared. She didn’t want to do that. Still, she owed you that, the truth, and so much more. And even if you left hating her, she had to make sure you knew it really was all her - you’d been perfect and all of this rot branched from her.

And if it really was the end, she couldn’t resist seeing you one more time.

“Okay. Where and when?”

—————

Jessie’s hands were cold and clammy as she walked down the hall to your apartment. She breathed heavily before catching herself and steadying them. She compulsively opened and closed her fists as she waited for you to answer.

When you opened the door, your expression was a far cry from the one she was used to seeing greet her. Instead of seeing a bright or warm smile, you looked tired and weary.

Guilt radiated through Jessie; she caused this single-handedly. She was supposed to make you happy, bring you comfort, make you feel safe and loved. Instead, she left you looking like a shell of yourself. Slowly at first, small nicks here and there, before a catastrophic and now lingering blow.

“Come in,” you said with only the slightest inflection in your voice. You stepped aside but didn’t make eye contact as Jessie entered.

“I, um, got you this,” Jessie said after she set her shoes aside and took off her backpack. She pulled a vinyl record out of it and handed it to you. She met your discerning gaze briefly before dropping it to the record in her hand. “I know you’ve been looking for it, so…”

You tentatively took it from her, a frown on your face as you examined it.

“Thanks,” you said flatly.

She knew it wouldn’t fix things or make things up to you - not by a long shot - but she had the faintest hope you would be more receptive.

When she forced herself to look up at you again, she saw you still studying the record. Eventually, your frown deepened and you looked at her almost accusingly.

“I don’t get you,” you said. “You barely talk to me these past couple of days and you act all cagey but then you do this? It doesn’t make sense.”

Your face faltered briefly before you grew stoic once more. “Some days you seem to really like me. Really care for me and understand me and we connect so well. And then others it feels like you can hardly stand to look at me.” A flash of emotion appeared on your face and disappeared just as fast. Your voice strained vaguely before you steadied it. “Never mind touch me.”

Jessie swallowed and dropped her gaze in shame. You went on, your voice cracking.

“I’ve tried to be really patient. But after the other night…I’ve done a lot of thinking and I can’t help but admit how hard it’s been.”

You sighed heavily and set the record down on a nearby table before returning and folding your arms tightly against yourself and leaning back against the wall. Your brow was heavy with a frown.

“And I know you've been trying." Your voice grew taut. "Prior anyway. And that's probably what makes it the worst. It's been hard for you, too - to be with me." Your face fell and your lip trembled briefly as you looked away.

Jessie's heart ached as she watched you battle with your emotions. All of the fear and worry she'd let dominate her fell away, replaced with an overwhelming need to hold you and make you feel better.

"It hasn't been," Jessie beseeched, taking a step forward but stopping when your gaze flicked back to her, warning.

"Do you think I’m stupid?" You said sharply. "I know you can’t stand to touch me. At first, I kept trying to give myself, and you, the benefit of the doubt - but the other night really proved that not only do you most definitely not find me attractive,” you laughed acerbically, “I think I might actually even repulse you.” You stared at her a moment, letting your words hang in the air and feigning amusement before choking back a sob. You visibly clenched your jaw before you forced another empty laugh. “That’s a fun one. My therapist’s about to get a ton of business from me.”

You took a shuddering breath and your voice cracked as you spoke. "I already know how this ends.”

“That’s not at all what’s happening or how I feel,” Jessie protested. She pressed the heels of her palms firmly into her eyes and grit her teeth. Her voice strained with burgeoning emotion. “Jesus Christ. That’s not it at all."

Your face screwed up and you gave a sad shake of your head as you stared her down.

“Stop. Just stop with the vague excuses. Just be honest with me. I don’t need you to confirm it, but don’t lie and tell me otherwise. I can tell,” voice breaking at the end. “Every time you pull away. How uncomfortable you can be when we’re even remotely physical. You can’t stand to kiss me for any length of time. I can feel you just waiting to pull away, like you’re fucking counting down the seconds until it’s over.” You started sobbing. “It’s horrible. Knowing you don’t want me like I want you.”

Jessie took a step toward you and you recoiled. She couldn’t help but think - maybe much like how she had with you times before.

“And don’t give me this whole ‘you’re shy’ or ‘you’re awkward’ thing again. I deserve more than your excuses.” Your voice grew softer. “And it’s not your fault you feel the way you do. You can’t control who you’re attracted to. Sometimes there can be an emotional connection and the physical just isn’t there. I don’t blame you. But I do blame you for dragging this out." You sniffled, wiping agitatedly at a tear that rolled down your cheek before giving her a defiant stare. "So just do what you should’ve done from the beginning.”

“It’s not you,” Jessie started and immediately saw the way you tensed up, ready to argue. She spoke quickly and urgently, her voice pleading for mercy and understanding. “It’s not you. I promise. It’s me - and I know how that sounds. But you were never the problem. I need you to know that.”

You looked ready to explode and Jessie knew it was now or never.

"It's me. I-it's my body. And I've been terrified that you won't accept me," she stammered through, hands to her chest as her gaze remained rooted to the floor. Her lips parted and her shoulders rose and fell as her breathing began to quicken. She swallowed and found the courage to look up at you to see a scrutinizing, but perplexed expression on your face.

"I'm not like you," Jessie said softly, "or most girls. Physically." She held your gaze for a second, to let you begin to process, but to give her time to think as well. She could see you were confused, but you waited quietly for her to go on. "I-I," she started, before stopping to take a steadying breath, her shoulders relaxing as she did so. "I've always been different."

She was slow to proceed and you spoke tentatively, all accusations and harshness now gone.

"What do you mean? How so?"

Jessie swallowed, eyes transfixed on the floor once more. She scratched at the back of her neck so harshly that it hurt.

"The reason I can't be physical with you is because what you would see, and feel," she looked up at you as she exhaled, "isn't what you would expect." She studied you as you processed her words. "That's why I asked you if you'd slept with guys," she finished timidly, embarrassment and shame creeping in despite her efforts.

Your mouth fell open to speak, but nothing came out. You frowned and visibly struggled with what to say next. Jessie's mouth was dry, but she had to take the next step.

"Even though I'm a girl, I have...what a guy has," she said quietly.

Your mouth opened wider to speak, but still nothing came out. You held up a poised finger, cuing her to wait. Eventually you found your words. Jessie held your gaze despite how difficult it was.

"Are you telling me that you have...," you trailed off, your gaze settling on her crotch momentarily before looking up at her, a tinge of pink already on your cheeks, "...a cock?"

Jessie released a slow, shuddering breath through her nose as she continued to hold your gaze. She nodded.

"Yes."

She saw your eyebrows raise as you looked away and her words and emotions just came out in a torrent.

"So if you think I've been struggling, you're right, but that's why," she said bitterly, tears in her eyes already. "It really had nothing to do with you. You've been so perfect. And it's been killing me to lie to you. And to hurt you. But I've been so scared - and I just," she took a shaky breath, "I know I'm not what you signed up for. You didn't deserve any of this, but I was being selfish. I wanted you. And I didn't want to risk losing you, so I just kept lying and the longer I waited, the more impossible it felt to tell you." Jessie's voice broke and she wiped her nose before pulling her arms in tightly against herself.

"And in the end I fucked it all up. And I hate myself for hurting you the way I have. Hearing how I...," she trailed off, gesturing vaguely at you before clenching her jaw tightly. "Hurting you is probably the worst thing I've ever done." Her voice grew high as she fought through her emotions. "And I don't deserve your forgiveness. I would gladly take it, but I know I don't deserve it. You deserve far better than someone who would hurt someone they love the way I've hurt you."

Your brow furrowed as she finished and Jessie swallowed once more, clearing her throat before speaking. "I'm sorry I couldn't say it back the other night. I really wanted to." She gave you a desperate look. "I know it must seem like I have zero integrity, but, I couldn't tell you I love you without telling you," she paused, gaze falling briefly, "all of this." She looked back at you, taking in a slow breath. "I really do love you. And I want so much more for us, but I realize now that even if you were okay...with me...well, with the way I've gone about everything, I've probably ruined any chance for us."

Her face fell as more tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I just need you to know that you shouldn't feel badly about yourself, because you were never the problem. It was always me."

"This is a lot for me to process," you said slowly, thumb grazing idly along your arm. You glanced over at the couch for a moment before glancing back at her. "Um, why don't we sit down."

Jessie sniffled, overcome with surprise that you'd invite her in further. It took her a moment to comprehend it, but soon nodded eagerly. She followed you wordlessly to the couch, remaining standing as you took a seat. You looked at her expectantly before gesturing to the spot next to you.

She was mindful of the space between you. She didn't want to sit too close and inadvertently imply that things were suddenly fine. She sat stiffly, back straight, hands on the tops of her thighs as she deferred to you on how to proceed. She glanced at you in trepidation, waiting, but when you didn't say anything for several moments she spoke again.

"I completely understand that this is a lot to process," she validated with a fleeting glance. "While I've been thinking about nothing but this for months, this is all new to you."

"Yeah," you said quietly, still very much in your thoughts.

"And I want you to know that you don't owe me anything," she said. "I completely understand if this is too much for you or not what you want. No hard feelings." She almost laughed at the last statement as she sat here, congested and teary-eyed. There would be a lot of feelings, but not hard feelings. She rubbed her forehead. "And I understand if there are hard feelings towards me. I'm sorry I was such a coward. I just-" she shook her head quickly, dismissing the thought. "Never mind."

She heard you exhale gently and she peeked over at you. You were initially still, but soon shifted, surprising Jessie as you turned subtly towards her.

"Don't get me wrong. I have a lot of questions. And I still have a lot of confusing feelings and hurt. But - I meant it when I said I love you. So it's hard to see you hurting like this." You scratched at your temple before looking up at her. "Did I do something to make it harder for you to tell me?"

Jessie turned to you fully, a stern look on her face. "No," she said adamantly. "You were," she shrugged listlessly, "you really were - are - amazing. I guess I just let old fears and baggage control me."

"What do you mean?" You asked tentatively before holding up your hands and speaking quickly. "And if I ask something that's too much - just say so. I don't want to make you more uncomfortable."

Jessie frowned deeper. "You're too good for me," she said simply. "You shouldn't give a shit about whether I'm uncomfortable or not. But, let me be clear - for once - I will answer any question you have for me. Some will be easier to answer than others, but I want you to know everything. If you want. That's what I wanted all along, but I was just too scared."

"Well, if you love someone - you care about their boundaries and how they feel," you said plainly. Jessie looked at you and you looked away nervously, clearing your throat before turning back. "And. Backtracking. You...love me?"

Jessie smiled for the first time today. It was an emotional, watery, sad smile. But it was a smile. "Yes. I really do. And it's been absolute torture the past couple of days not talking to you - I know it's all my fault though."

You frowned, thoughts almost visibly churning before you set your gaze on her again.

"Wait. But I'm not your first girlfriend. So...was it like this every time?"

Jessie's posture slumped slightly at your question; more-so, the reminder it triggered. That you were the best and she'd treated you the worst.

"No. No, it hasn't been," she admitted as she picked at the fabric of her pants. "I, um, was more open before. And, uh, I guess it backfired. And I've been pretty reserved and nervous about it since."

"Oh," you said quietly, still deep in thought. "But your teammates know, right?"

"Yeah, they all do. Hard for them not to. And they're cool with it, thank God. But otherwise I keep it quiet. It doesn't seem like it, but I'm actually pretty comfortable with that aspect of myself these days. It caused a lot of angst for me for years, but I'm happy with who I am. Relationships though...that's a different matter altogether."

"I'm sorry, Jess," you said gently, pulling a confused look out of her. Again, you shouldn't be worried about her. "That sounds really difficult. That said, do you mind telling me more?"

Jessie turned to you more fully, your knees nearly brushing now. "I'll tell you anything you want to know. You were right that I was far from an open book, but I don't want to be like that anymore. I want you to know everything, if you'd like." She shrunk into herself a bit and waved a hand aimlessly. "And just because I tell you these things, it doesn't mean that I think you'll forgive me or something. I understand that, you know, things could end. But I still want you to know."

Surprise flooded Jessie's system as you took her hand and gave it the faintest squeeze, continuing to hold it after.

"Jess. It's okay. I want to know."

She mustered up a tight smile for you and squeezed your hand.

She proceeded to tell you her story. Filling the gaps she'd craftily navigated during previous conversations. The embarrassment she'd felt. The otherness. The ridicule she'd experienced over the years. The rejection. The objectification. And the eventual defeat; of feeling like no one would get her or love her the way she wanted to be loved.

By the time she finished, a new set of tears had finished falling, but what she noted most of all was how you now held her hand in both of yours.

"Baby," you said softly, as you lifted her hand and kissed it tenderly. Jessie looked at you in surprise as she sniffled.

She'd expected the worst, so when you looked at her with warmth and compassion, it caught her off-guard to not see disgust or rejection.

"I'm so sorry you were made to feel like that. You didn't deserve that at all. Some people are so fucking close-minded and terrible. I'm so sorry you had to experience that," you told her.

Her shoulders hitched as she rode out the dying waves of her emotion.

"Thanks," she managed, her voice still congested and strained. "Now you know how hypocritical and truly horrible it was of me to make you feel the way those girls made me feel."

You tilted your head slightly and gave it a slow shake. "No. It's not the same. I mean, yes, I felt terrible, but you weren't trying to hurt me. And now I can understand where you were coming from."

Jessie shook her head in return. "It doesn't make it right though. So...if you let me, I'll do everything I can to try to make it up to you and try to rebuild the trust I've broken. Totally understand if that's off the table though."

"I," you started, chest rising as you took a large breath before relaxing once more, "still love you. So...no, it's not off the table. I still have to process a lot of this and reconcile some things. And, yes, reality is you hurt me, but everything makes so much more sense now. So. Thank you. For finally telling me."

Jessie nodded. "Thank you for hearing me out."

You fidgeted slightly and she watched you carefully. You felt her eyes on you and spoke hesitantly.

"We, um. Didn't exactly address my initial issue though. I mean, I understand now why you've been so closed off and flighty. But, you know, none of this necessarily means that you, um, find me attractive. Because that could still be a problem."

Jessie gave you a disbelieving look. "Of course I find you attractive. Well, okay," she slowed herself down, "I understand why you thought I didn't. But, now that you know everything else, my attraction to you is exactly why I couldn't be remotely physical with you. It was...a bit too much for me. Let's put it that way," Jessie finished as she looked away sheepishly. When she braved a look back your face was tinged pink.

"Oh. Okay. Well..., um. That's nice to know, I guess," you responded awkwardly.

"I'm sorry. That was probably too much information," Jessie mumbled. She cleared her throat before speaking more confidently. "So, no, you have nothing - at all - to worry about there. I think the bigger question now is if you would find me attractive. Now that you know that my, um, anatomy is different."

You blushed deeper and cleared your throat as well.

"Oh. I mean, you're still you. And, I'm curious-" you held up your hands quickly in defense, eyes closing as you corrected yourself, "-not like those other girls. No. I would never use you like that." You opened your eyes once again, calming yourself. "What I mean is. I'm still interested."

Jessie felt an ember of hope flickering in her chest. You were still blushing, giving her fleeting glances until you fully faced her, now serious and prim.

"You get one more chance," you told her firmly, holding up a finger. "I know a lot will be new and there'll be things to navigate, but I won't put up with you being distant and cagey again. Do not lie to me again."

Jessie nearly beamed. She straightened up eagerly and nodded her head rapidly in agreement.

"I won't," she promised before she took a second look at you. "Are you sure you want to try again?"

Your face scrunched up adorably as you shot her a look.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?" You asked, affronted.

"No," she refuted, shaking her head adamantly. "I just want to make sure this is what you truly want. I know I dumped a lot on you just now, so...you are more than welcome to take your time to think. And I definitely don't want you to feel guilty in any way."

"I don't feel guilty," you told her. "And," you exhaled quickly, "as you were telling me about all of your experiences and how you've been treated, all I could really think throughout all of it is that I wished there was some way I or someone could go back and protect you from all of that." You picked at your nails idly. "And, I don't know, that I just wanted to hold you. And kiss you." You gave her another stern look, but it was mild at best. "You're not entirely forgiven yet. But I understand you so much better now. So, I do want to try again."

That heavy, horrible ache in her chest she'd been carrying with her the past while was replaced with a sensation of warmth and lightness.

"You're the most incredible woman I've ever met," she told you unwaveringly. "I promise I'll do everything in my power to make things up to you. I'll make sure you never have a doubt about me, or you, or us, again."

"That's a bold promise," you warned with a hint of a smirk.

Jessie smiled at you undeterred. She gently cupped the side of your face and leaned in, stopping momentarily to speak before giving you a soft, slow kiss.

"And it's one I intend to keep."

A/N: Next up…smut.

Tag requests: @multifandomlesbianic @marvelwomen-simp @kathleenmikaelson

[b0xerdancer-writes]

Baring Teeth

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: Azriel and reader are mates, after what has felt like a lifetime to them with how fast life has seemed to move Azriel finds himself wanting what his brothers have, his mate having been through hell and back is willing to give him whatever she can.

Warnings: Some smut scenes, death, violence, war, torture, blood, inappropriate language and jokes, this is entirely an 18+ work.

Word Count: 14,099

Notes: This was meant to be that Azriel baby fever fic from the get-go, but I got sidetracked, it gets there eventually. Lemme know if you would like to see a part 2!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you asked Azriel he was anything but a jealous male, if you asked his mate however she would tell you it was circumstantial at best.

It had been only a handful of years since my sisters had destroyed the cauldron and the king of Hybern but life seemed to want to fasten its pace. I couldn’t say I didn't blame it for wanting too either.  Being born between Nesta and Elain always had its challenges, my mother favored Nesta as the first born and both of my parents always doted on Elain for her sweet, caring, and gentle nature; I had always just been there neither parent cared what I did and that was amplified when Feyre was born. I used the opportunity to learn something unique for my family, how to wield a sword, to fight, to kill. I used the opportunity to learn from guards, sell swords, mercenaries, and what teachers were available to me. 

So when my family lost all of their money I announced I’d be working as a sellsword, Nesta had thrown a fit about it but at this point she threw a fit about everything. I had a small amount of gold stashed for myself so when my parents finally decided to marry me off I’d run and buy all the things I needed to start my career as a sellsword, or mercenary, or just whatever I ended up becoming; I’d announced I was going into town and slipped out the door with the bag of coins strapped to my waist. I had bought a few furs, a good quality sword that would get me through till I could buy a better one, some bags I was able to strap across my body, and some easy traveling clothes, and some small pieces of leather. I knew if I was going to be gone they would need some way to be able to get food; I split my coin down the middle and used half of what I had left to buy them food, the other half I’d save for travel expenses. 

I dropped the food off with my sisters and father, then slipped back out the door after a quick goodbye and made my way towards one of the nobles' nearest estates. One of my teachers had written to me when he found out about my family's misfortune and told me he was stationed there and would recommend me to the lord he worked for, all I had to do was show up. I Showed up like he said, not to the front door but to the side door, the servants quarters and there I was greeted by my teacher and some other for hire guards who all coaxed me in with pats on my back and one went to fetch the head of staffing. It was an easily acquired job with a recommendation from my teacher and the other guards that had greeted me at the door, an even easier job to perform with good pay; simple patrols and hunting shifts at 50 gold a day. 

While I was there the barracks became my home, the other sellswords and mercs became family and before I knew it I was going out with them on the days we were released and getting drinks and celebrating. I had a pretty good stash of gold saved up, kept it in a nice bag that my belt strapped through and kept it firmly against my hip, I would write to my sisters and send them 10 gold once a week to help keep them fed. If I sent more I knew Nesta or Elain would commandeer it and use it on useless things, they could at least stock up on a good amount of fillers like rice or barley with 10 gold.

 They never wrote back, it was probably a good thing in hindsight. Had any of them mentioned Feyre being taken by the fae I would have gone right after her, but there was no mention of it to me until I got a letter from Nesta one day saying they had been moved into a new estate and father’s fortune had been restored by some sheer dumb luck. I wrote back congratulating them but making them aware I had no intention of giving up my post; then the next letter came written by Nesta again it had said something was wrong with feyre, telling the story of what had actually happened while I was gone. It had told me that Feyre had been taken by some fae monster that then she had returned after that first letter had been sent to me but had to leave again to go after some male she loved, but that this time she called the same male she left for the first time a monster  and had appeared at the estates doorstep with three males on her heels and asked for us to hear them out. I didn’t bother writing back, Nesta had sent that letter the same day. If I took a horse I’d be at where they mentioned their estate was within two hours, so I stepped down from my post and was told if I ever needed it to come right on back to them; I set out towards my family's estate with a large fur on my back to battle the chill winds, when I arrived a staff member took the horse and showed me inside. 

Nesta was the first to greet me, pulling me in for a hug and telling me how proud she was that I made something of myself; she told me how tense the atmosphere had been since Feyre showed up with the males, that feyre was now a member of the fae and she had somehow been changed into one of them. I had nothing against the civil fae but we were close enough to the wall some strays would slip through and tear apart weaker humans,  I had helped the barracks crew take down some rogues that slipped past the wall on a few occasions; nothing big, nagas as I had been told were the most common ones we faced. 

Stepping into the room elain squealed and buried herself into my side and the fur I wore, I heard Feyre call out to me with hesitancy as her eyes raked over the small scars the littered my exposed skin from the fights in the woods or sparring accidents; I motioned her over and pulled her into a hug, fae or not she was still my family and still my baby sister. The fae behind her had introduced themselves and their positions, they seemed to have no qualm with me but with Nesta and Elain. One wrong comment sent Elain into tears while she profusely apologized to Feyre, the two had their moment but it didn’t set right with me; yes they were in the wrong for doing nothing while Feyre hunted almost daily for them and I was off working, but they very obviously realized they had fucked up and were in the wrong. It did not mean they got to insult my family and I made sure they knew that, one of the males the tallest with the biggest wings there that I would later come to know as Azriel, seemed amused with my wild and protective temper and applauded me for it. 

They later left with promise to come back soon, I busied myself with the guards and servants we had around the estate by leading patrols and hunting parties myself; I stayed out of most of their business so the next time I saw them  I had just returned from a hunting party, dragging a decent sized deer to the kitchen. The tall male found me there in the kitchen caught off guard when he found me there, sleeves rolled up and cloak tossed to the size with a butcher knife in my hand while dismembering the deer; he had introduced himself to me then, as Azriel, and offered to help. I tossed him the hide and asked him to bring it out back, string it up on the dry rack. He agreed, I’d get around to curing the skin of the hide after I finished drying and preparing the rest of the meat; when he returned I had already stored all the meat away and was by the sink basin washing the deers dark blood from off my hands, I looked up at him from the corner of my eye and watched as his breath hitched and he quickly excused himself from the room. 

Nesta was the one who collected me when the queens were on their way, a new member had joined us in the living room that I had not recognized but she introduced herself as Mor; I stood silently like a guard myself when the human guards joined us, silently judging them as my sister and ‘her mate’ as she had called him explained to the queens what they needed. The meeting was surprisingly quick, the queens leaving just as quickly as they had arrived. We ate dinner together like a family that night, Azriel made small talk with me about my skills and training; I had to admit to myself that I found it endearing no one else even my sisters cared or dared, I wasn’t sure which  it exactly was with them, to ask me about it.

They left the next morning, and life returned to normal once the servants themselves returned; Oftentimes I got incredulous looks for being in the back working on my pelts or  sparring with the dummy I had ordered set up when I returned to the estate, other times the children of the servants were more than ecstatic to ask me of tales I had experienced within the woods. I had ended up using that deer hide in my cloaks, something about it was sentimental to me, though I couldn’t quite place why. 

A few weeks later, my nerves were on end, like the times when the entire barracks would ride out together hunting a naga or other rogue beast and we weren’t quite sure where they were lurking. I didn’t bother changing out of my armor and cloak. I should’ve trusted my gut that night, as I was unable to find sleep easily and only able to fall asleep with my blade at my side and a dagger under my pillow. I awoke to screaming from down the hall, Elain’s scream, I burst out of my room blade in hand knocking a few of them off their feet as the door collided with them.

One thing that had been instilled into me over the time with my teachers was the fact the bigger you looked the more intimidating you could be, my piled furs and cloak were an extension of that teaching; a large black wolf pelt was my crowning piece on my shoulders the, the deer hanging over my shoulders under that like a shawl. 

The fae turned to look at me in the faint light and darkness of our home, needless to say the illusion I was aiming for had worked on them as I heard several yell, “Beast!”, in alarm at me. And beast I was, I had taken down and decapitated several of them before they finally apprehended me in my war path to get to Elain and Nesta, the latter I realized had been gagged and I saw blood on her face; ever the fighter she was I had seen one of them holding her nursing one of his hands over the other and had surmised she had bitten him, and taken a chunk from his hand. I’d have to applaud her eventually for that, it was genius thinking and she was always so much smarter than she let on. They doused us with some sort of potion or substance that swept Elain under immediately, Nesta fought off the sleep as much as she could but after a few seconds went under herself; I fought against them straining and struggling, teeth bared, fighting off the sleep that coaxed me at the edges of my mind till they had to use another dose to put me under.

I awoke to chaos. So much was happening. Azriel and Cassian were insanely injured but still trying to fight the bane in their systems to crawl to us. Feyre bawling. Two males and a female I didn’t recognize beside her. The male I had been introduced to as Rhysand was in pain himself. A large male in the center of the room. Two guards either side of Elain hauling her up. A large thing that didn't seem natural in the center of the room. Nesta had three guards around her. I had seven. The seven I realized were on edge around me, made uneasy by me. Made uneasy even though I was restrained in any way they could think of. I felt like a beast surveying its options of prey to hunt. 

The large male in the center, realizing all of us were finally awake, finally introduced himself as the King of Hybern, a name I recognized Azriel’s family talking about at the meeting. The King introduced the strange object as ‘The Cauldron’, Azriel had mentioned it was something akin to a god to them. Not natural indeed. He motioned for the guards to bring Elain forward as he explained his plan, the guards raised her over the large pot; she screamed and thrashed in their grip, red marks and bruises already appearing on her skin. I saw red. I shot forward, catching all the guards around me by surprise as they scrambled to get ahold of my restraints and chains; they stopped me just as Elain went under, my arms were pinned behind my back by a chain and I snarled, insults and threats falling from my mouth. I heard Nesta react similarly yet not as violently as I was, seemingly stunned by everything going on, or maybe it was just her cold mask refusing to let the King and our enemies see how much she was fazed.

The king simply let out a dark laugh. “The feral beast bares her teeth.” It was meant as a condescending remark.

They pulled Elain out of the cauldron and I jolted forward towards her again, catching the ones holding my chains off guard and several of them fell to the floor from the sudden jerk forward that caused them to lose their footing. One of the males at Feyre’s side mumbled something I didn’t catch thanks to the blood pounding in my ears, and my attention caught on him and the blondes beside him; he straightened eyes, or eye, wide and he stumbled back. I turned my attention back to the so-called ‘King’, promises of death dripping like venom from my teeth; I barely caught the fact Rhys or maybe it was Mor had pulled Elain to their side of the room. 

The King tilted his head at me, an amused smile on his face as he spoke to me. “You want to behave like a beast? So be it.” He turned his attention to the seven around me. “Get her in that cauldron I don’t care how.” 

A chorus of yes sirs surrounded me and the chains began to dig into my skin as they tried to pull me towards the over-sized cooking pot.  I had just started to lose my footing when a weak call came from my right, giving me just enough motivation to regain it.

“Fight them! You’ve taken down worse things than them! They are nothing compared to those Nagas in the woods! Come on! I believe in you! Show them those techniques you told me about!” Azriel had  braced himself on one elbow wincing against the fae bane in his system. 

I nodded and braced myself the best I could, the guards stood on the other side of the pot as me and I turned slightly as I let out a snarl like smile. They looked between each other in worry as I dug my boots into the ground and hauled ass the other direction, dragging one of them too close to the cauldron they tripped, losing control of the chain and fell in screaming himself. One of the others dropped a chain to the floor, giving me more breathing room, to help the screaming male out of the pot; he trashed on the floor ripping his armor off exposing his skin that had begun boiling and simply falling off.

The others tightened their grip on my chains but were distracted by the horror of the scene, the one that had helped him out screamed and began throwing up. I heard Nesta cheer behind me, and I turned my attention to what seemed like the now weakest guard holding my chains; I charged forward, the male screamed in horror as I caught him off guard and took a page out of Nestas book and sunk my teeth into his throat. Just as I was expecting the guards on the opposite side pulled violently and assisted me in pulling his throat out, I wasn’t going to go down easy, and by whatever gods did exist it was going to be violent and bloody. He grasped his hollowed throat and tried to scream as he collapsed and I spit the wad of torn flesh towards the King’s feet; I was down to four guards , but what I didn’t account for was the backwards motion created by the other 3 guards.

I had collided with the side of the cauldron and howled out in pain, the guards took the opportunity to haul me up; I tried thrashing but every time I moved pain shot through my body. Unable to struggle against the water as it pulled me in I snapped at the guard trying to push my head under’s hand, taking a few fingers with me as I finally submerged. 

It was dark for a moment, then I was in an open room able to stand on my feet and move without pain. I heard shuffling somewhere opposite me, the more I moved forward so did it; till I was face to face with a giant beast, black and golden brown, eyes that seemed to look into my soul, and grand antlers with flesh hanging from them. The sickening feeling like I was looking in a mirror sunk into my chest, when I moved the beast moved. 

Then it finally spoke, yet it didn’t at the same time. Something ancient I couldn't understand or speak. Yet intrinsically I knew what it was asking me. That if my true nature was like that of the beast itself, that I should just give in. That if I did I would bring all my enemies to their knees, take them all to their graves. It asked if I would accept that part of me, asked if I would accept its offer of power. I nodded, and it stepped forward lowering its head to my level. I stepped forward meeting it there in the middle of the never ending, ethereal space. It pressed its head against me, and then I was taking a large gasping breath as I felt my bones break and reforge, a blinding pain before I could see detail so much sharper then I had been able to, could hear everything as every sense in me heightened. I felt stronger, felt faster, like one of the beasts I hunted in the woods with my friends in the barracks. Then I felt the inky thickness of the Cauldrons water again, I could see my own hands and claws as I reached out and felt the cool metal; I felt the chains around me tighten again ever so slightly before they fell away as I began to haul myself from the black water. It sloshed and spilled over onto the floor as I emerged, blacker than the depths of the shadows that followed me through the woods in the late hours of the night.

I swallowed a breath as I hauled myself over the edge of the cauldron and finally collapsed on the floor; I used my hands to keep me from fully collapsing as I kneeled there and looked up at the King, a deadly promise in my eyes as I snarled a simple “Your head will be mine and I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

My hair hung in my face, droplets of black water slowly fading to a normal color as I dried, and he smiled in amusement. “Once a beast always a beast.”

I took a breath and looked down at the puddle on the floor, my firs were still wrapped around me though sopping wet but it wasn’t my obviously messed up appearance that shocked me, but the eyes that looked back at me that did. Thin slits like the beast I had seen within those waters stared back, the color still my own but so much different. I heard Azriel call out for me in a strangled noise, I turned my attention sharply towards him to find him looking devastated; I wanted to comfort him, he was such a good male and I was in so much pain I was exhausted, I hauled myself shakily to my feet barely able to make it to him as I collapsed at his side. Nesta called out to me as my vision began to fade, and I saw Cassian lurch forward despite the threat to his life as he screamed for her. I lost my vision just ;as she was going under’ the simple threat to the king, so much calmer than  my own, made me smile before I passed out.

I had despised waking up in places I was unfamiliar with, I shot up with a growl before wincing and clutching my side. A small female attempted to calm me down to no avail, till I heard Azriel’s weak voice through the haze. 

“Hey Wildling, woah, woah, they are just trying to help. They’re our healers. You're in the Night Court, remember me telling you about this place?” He was on a cot in just his leather pants, a large white bandage around his waist, chest, over one shoulder, and around his massive wings.

I nodded and looked around slowly, all the fae were looking at me terrified and on edge, like they would run from the room at the slightest growl from me.

“Sorry, just caught by surprise.” I mumbled and looked down at the bandages around my own waist, they covered my chest and entire torso.

I didn’t really care about modesty, you live with men for long enough especially mercs and sellsword men that you stop caring, and they stop caring about your own body. Many times I hade changed into my uniform or hunting clothes in front of them while we were all getting ready for the day's assignments. I scanned over the bandages no blood leaked through but everytime I moved It hurt, everytime I took too deep a breath it hurt. 

“I’m sure from your experience you can gather what happened?” Azriel’s voice was soft, and a comfort. I wouldn’t admit it, yet anyways until I found out everything that was going on, but I had started to consider him a friend or maybe something even more; I mean those wings were fascinating and from the time we aparred in the back he had experience and when my knee had met his crotch in a low blow, after all who fought fair anymore, he was well endowed. 

“I’m one of you now, aren’t I? Elain and Nesta too, just like Feyre.” I quirked a brow at him and he nodded.

“And as for your injuries, what do you assume happened?” He quirked a brow right back at me, a test of my knowledge like we had done with sparring.

“Broken ribs? That pull back had to have enough force to break them, especially when I collided with the cauldron. Severe bruising and maybe even some large gashes? Those chains were tight enough there had to be at least major bruising.” I winced as I adjusted how I was seated.

He nodded with a smile. “Correct to an extent, good job wildling.” His wings flared as he adjusted himself, and I wanted to move forward and help him adjust slow enough he wouldn't hurt himself. 

He smiled when I extended my hand to stop him. “Hey im okay, i'm more worried about you right now, I’ve been shot down from the sky with fae bane arrows and survived it. I'll be fine. You however are the one I’m worried about, those chains were tugged back tight enough it had shattered your ribcage and  popped at least one of your lungs. Thankfully the fae healing kicked in for you fast enough to keep you alive.”

I nodded in stunned silence. “Just sore and it hurts to move i. Sone directions, I'm breathing fine now.” 

“Good! Madja, shes our lead healer here, was worried your healing wouldnt work fast enough since you were freshly made.” Azriel told me in a worried tone, but I could feel it in my chest, feel just how worried he was in my heart; could feel his emotions as well as my own.

I tilted my head in confusion and reached for where I felt him in my chest, my brows furrowed and he straightened.

“Are you okay?” He looked anxious like he was about to call for one of the nurses to help me.

“Im fine just confused? You told me all that information in a worried tone but I felt it here,” I motioned to my chest, “Like it was my own emotion.” 

Small gasps echoed across the room and the small nurses fled. Azriel rose from his bed slowly and came to sit at the edge of mine. 

“You feel it too then.” He spoke softly to me like he was calming a storm. “I wasnt going to mention it to you right away, both Nesta and Elain didn’t have the best reactions to suddenly having mates.”  

“Mates?” I tilted my head quizzically at him. “I’ve heard the word, though I’m not a hundred percent sure what that means or what is expected of me.” 

He placed his hand on mine. “Like Feyre and Rhys right?” I nodded. “The Mother, you remember her right? I mentioned she was another one of our ‘gods’ as well.” I nodded again, listening intently. 

“Well,” he hummed trying to consider how to word something.”She blesses some fae with mates, or whats called ‘the mating bond’ its a soulbond between two people normally between two fae. Though admittedly both Rhys and I felt it with you and Feyre while you were still humans.”

I moved to squeeze his hand softly with my own. “So, our souls are intertwined with the others?”

He nodded. “That's one way to put it,while you didnt feel it snap till you were turned most likely, i felt it that day I walked into the kitchen to find you washing the blood off your arms and hands. You were just, how do I put it into words, Ethereally beautiful? Darkly enchanting? I don’t know how to word it but you get the picture. I felt the bond snap in my chest and I almost lost myself to the emotions when you looked up at me the way you did, like a flirtatious taunt.”

A blush crept up his face and I felt it creep up my own. I felt his adoration seep into my own chest again and I looked up at him in pure adoration back. “How do you do that?” 

“Do what?” He smiled.

“Make me feel what you’re feeling?” I furrowed my brows for a second as I tried to send my emotions to him, to show him how I’ve felt about him for a while now without realizing it.

He moved his hand to his own chest, and tears welled in his eyes. “I didn’t even have to explain it to you, see? You’ve already picked it up. All the love you're pushing through to me. Good Job wildling.”

I smiled but then frowned. “I get the physical connection of it now but what is expected of me?”

He smiled and caressed my face gently, thumb running over my cheek bone. “As of right now? Nothing. But if you decide you want to accept it or reject it, then we will have more to discuss.” 

I nodded and went to open my mouth but he interrupted me first. “I don’t want you to make a decision right now. Think on it for awhile, process all the changes to your life first okay wildling?” 

He smiled sadly and I nodded. I could feel his sadness through the bond though I could tell he wasn't trying to make me feel it, I just could, probably easier than most I assumed since every other sense of mine was heightened. A soft knock rasped against the door and my attention shot to it, Azriel called for whoever it was to come in. Rhys had pushed his head in followed by his entire body.

He nodded at the two of us. “I see you’re both doing well, I owe the both of you an explanation and update on everything.”

So we sat, we sat and listened as Rhys gave us the rundown. How and why Feyre was in the spring court, how she was our inside girl, how eventually she would return. Explained to us Cassian was still out, having experienced a higher dose of fae bane than Azriel, but while he was healing slowly he was still healing and would be okay. Then he finally turned his attention solely on me and gave me a rundown on Nesta and Elain’s health. I must have pushed my grief down the bond to Azriel before the tears had even reached my eyes, because he was already comforting me when the dam burst. Rhys stood silent in front of us, before he congratulated us on our bond and offered me any assistance I would need in adjusting or helping my sisters adjust to the massive change in our lives. Eventually he left ,after some small talk with Azriel, to check on Cassian.

Then it was just me and Azriel again, for the next few weeks it stayed just me and Azriel in our small medical room with check ins from Rhys and Madja. We eventually  got the clear and along with that cane the announcement Cassian was awake, we beelined it to his room; he was still on bed rest and would be for the next handful of days as they double checked everything had healed properly and assessed the damage. I was shown to my room right next door to Azriel’s, inside a neatly wrapped box in a blue bow sat on the foot of my bed.

“I asked Rhys to pick it up for me.” He smiled and sent a wave of adoration into my chest.

Opening the box I found a set of folded clothing black pants and a flowy comfy dark blue shirt. I sent a wave of appreciation his way and fingered the silky fabric. “Thank you Az, this is… probably the nicest set of clothing I’ve ever had.”

“Your welcome wildling.” He leaned down to press his forehead to my shoulder. His actions caught me by surprise and nearly had me crying, it was such a pure act of surrender and love; my breath caught in my throat and I had to swallow back sobs as I moved one hand to caress what I could reach for the male.

I had made up my mind then and there what my answer to the bond would be, if anyone could guide me and my ways through the sudden changes it was him. I stepped forward and he furrowed his brows but I turned and planted a kiss on his lips. He let out a mixture of a cry and a whimper when I pulled away, his eyes wide and watery; I turned back towards the clothes, not thinking about the implications as I stripped from my current ones and bandages but was stopped before I could step into the new ones laid out in front of me. 

Azriel’s breath caught in his throat as he ran a light touch across a lingering bruise on my skin, goosebumps shot up my skin in a wave of chills that caused me to flinch and wince. Azriel growled softly at the thought of me in pain, or at least that's the impression I got from his side of the bond. 

He wrapped himself around me, his hands finding purchase on my chest, causing me to swat at him with a light hearted hiss.

He grumbled back at me, rubbing his hand where I had smacked him in mock defeat. “You shouldn’t be so casual about stripping then. Especially  being as hurt as you are, the urge to just protect you and curl up around you is a bit overwhelming right now.”

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my clothes, finally stepping into the new ones. “This is nothing compared to what it used to be like in the barracks.”

“What do you mean?” It was slightly growled out, the tiniest wave of jealousy seeping from his soul to mine. 

Without thinking about what he meant or the new emotions in my chest I responded to him. “There were maybe 10-15 of us in the barracks total, I was the only female. Not necessarily common amongst sellswords, yet I kept up with all of them. You all become close like family; I'm sure you get how that feels, I mean you, Cass, and Rhys are like that. But after a point you all just change infront of each other and no one really looks or cares anymore, it just becomes natural, part of the routine in the morning.” 

I shrugged it off as I shrugged my shirt over my shoulders, still slightly sore when I stretched my arms above my head. Azriel growled but tried to stop himself, an attempt to remember I hadn’t accepted the bond yet so he had no reason to be feeling jealous and territorial. “Ah, I see, I get what you’re saying though I admit I am a bit envious that 10 or 15 males have seen you shirtless before I did.” 

I tried, I really did, to prevent the chuckle that fell from my lips. Azriel growled playfully in response. It was comfortable whatever we had, between all their meetings at the house and the now formed bond between us, I felt safe around him. Behind him neatly hung my cloak and furs, sparkling and pristine as the days I had cured them; yet somehow bigger, I understood with a simple what had happened: they had changed with me.

He caught where my eyes had fallen and smiled at me brightly. “Oh! Rhys said he would bring them to your room, I noticed they were different too. You went into the cauldron small yet ferocious enough you unsettled them, they couldn’t figure out how you were outsmarting them or how you had already killed so many of their comrades. But when you came out, they understood how and why. The cauldron however it forged your body anew, decided that for however ferocious and ambitious you were, you would need a bigger vessel to do it in.” 

I hadn’t realized it yet but I only stood a few inches shorter than Azriel did now, eye level with his chin and throat; when before I was much shorter, level to his chest at most. It was then that I caught my reflection in the mirror, my features had indeed sharpened or elongated in spots and I gave off a predatory air about myself without even trying; Azriel stood behind me as I took the sight in. While I knew he was no high lord, the way in which he carried himself said otherwise, in the mirror, I realized we looked like the Lord of shadow and the beast that lurked just within it. A display I noted, however beautiful it was just between us, would have horrified onlookers if it was meant to intimidate. A thought I found quite pleasing.

He rested his head on my shoulder and I let out a low purr in response to the imagery in the mirror. “So. Let's say if I were to accept this bond.” He perked up. “What would be expected or asked of me? What would the process of accepting it be?” 

His eyes met mine in the mirror, the smallest change in his scent had alerted me to what affect my questions had on him. A small enough change that if my senses hadn’t heightened more than even Azriel or Rhys’s that I wouldn’t have caught it. 

“If you were to accept it,” he crooned, “then my answer would stay the same, I expect nothing of you except to accept my love for you and for you to return it back to me. I have waited centuries to find my mate, and you are so new to the world of the fae I want you to be able to explore it but I also want to be a guiding hand for you to do so. As you know I’m Rhys’s spymaster. I may be gone on missions for up to a week at a time, if you wish I can train you even more and you can eventually join me on them.” His shadows swirled at my feet, I had learned to accept them as an extension of himself from the first time we met, where he went they followed. “Is that acceptable?”

I nodded, a warmth in my chest. “And how would consummating the bond work?” A low purr rumbled from my own chest that ended in his own.

“It's a real simple process, a simple ritual, only differing slightly from the human tradition of marriage. Same significance just without rings.” He placed a kiss on my neck before continuing. “One of us cooks for the other, and presents it to the other to eat. Normally it’s something simple, seeing as the hormones and instincts start to affect us from the first bite we normally can’t scarf a whole meal down. Feyre made Rhys soup. Once the food has been consumed, like I said instincts and hormones take us over, reverting us to nothing more than feral creatures intent on fucking our mates till we collapse. That phase normally takes about a week, then it's a phase of adjusting to life together, heightened emotions, territorial instincts, and being inseparable till the bond calms. That phase however differs between mates.” His eyes bore into me in the mirror, the gold flecks in his hazel eyes sparkled in a feral amusement at my reactions as he spoke.

“So all I’d have to do is cook you something?”I tilted my head giving him more access to my neck as he slowly dragged his lips across the open space, in slow tension filled kisses.

“It depends,” He smirked at me, his canine digging ever so slightly into my skin. “On if you had the intention of accepting the bond or not. You have to make and serve me the food with the intention of accepting the bond.”

I shuddered under him. “I take it Rhys has given you some time off from work, to recover and until Feyre updates us on the situation?” 

“Possibly.” He nipped at my neck trying to elicit the same shudder as earlier. “Why do you ask?”

I wanted to groan at him. “Maybe I was considering consummating it. But since you won’t give me a straight answer we will have to wait and see.” 

I offered him a smirk back only for it to die on my face quickly, between the heat in his eyes and the growl that rose from his chest.

“Wildling.” He warned, “Do not toy with me, if you have the intent to accept the bond, tell me here and now. If you intend to cook for me I will march you straight to the kitchen and barge into Rhys’s office right now to tell him I’ll be taking the week off entirely.” 

I swallowed a shaky breath at the pure power and intimidation he oozed when growling like that, his nose twitched and I assumed he picked up the shift in my scent. “So tell me wildling, do you intend to accept it?” 

I swallowed and nodded. “Yes, I do.” It was shaky and broken up as I tried to regain my composure.

“Good” That same growl again, had my knees weakening. “Then I’ll show you to the kitchen.”

And so he did, he led me through the winding halls of the house till we were in the large kitchen and he dismissed himself quickly with a kiss lingering on my forehead. I shuffled through the cabinets noting ingredients as I went, trying to figure out something I could make. Meat, I knew how to cook different meats, had hunted and cooked several different kinds of it, whatever I made him I decided I wanted to have meat in it. Beef I thought or some chicken, I jumped out of my boots when a bundle wrapped in brown butcher paper appeared on the counter in front of me; the house was sentient Azriel had told me but I didn’t think it meant like this. 

I unwrapped the bundle, white meat and from the looks of it chicken. Easy to cook, easy to pair with any ingredients I found lying around; my attention was drawn towards a fruit bowl, a lemon topping the pile of fruits. How amusing I thought, for the fae to have fruits from the human lands; only when I had pulled a knife from the wooden block and had split the lemon in half did I realize it wasn’t just a lemon, the taste and smell of it were both much sweeter and stronger yet still held a sour note. I found the spice cabinet and went through it, pulling everything I wanted out; a lemon pepper chicken I decided, simple yet enough to keep his energy up.

I had a tendency to keep my guard up unless I was in a place I ultimately felt safe and with Azriel just down the hall I felt safe enough to lose myself in cooking, it was something I had learned I had enjoyed when I was working in the barracks; I’d hunt down whatever tomorrow’s dinner would be then help the chefs prepare it for storage, then take the hides to be cured and turned into blankets for the barracks or depending on the quality of the pelt. Then when I returned to the kitchen the chef would have the night's dinner out and ready to begin preparing. The chef there was an older gentleman with blonde hair that had turned mostly white by the time I met him; he walked me through everything he did, explaining why and answering any questions he had. However, due to my love for the craft I found it easy to lose focus of the world around me and let my guard down; which was fine, until it wasn’t.

I had been so distracted pan searing the chicken that even with my heightened hearing I had not heard Azriel’s approaching footsteps, he leaned against the archway the led into the kitchen from the dining room silently as I hummed and began plating the chicken; I had been cutting  the lemon into a smaller sections to drizzle it over the chicken, knife in hand I turned around to drizzle it on the plate when I heard the smallest of noises from the male. I jumped and spun towards the noise, the knife in my hand thunked into the wall an inch from where Azriel had just been leaning his head as I threw it. 

His eyes widened as he jumped away from the wall. “Mother, save me, efficiently deadly even when off guard.” 

I clasped at my chest as I panted loudly trying to catch my breath after being startled. “Fuck me! Azriel! Warn a lady!” 

He mumbled  “I'm trying.” Before actually apologizing for scaring me. 

He slid his way onto a barstool and I pushed the plate towards him, he looked between the plate and me before he cut a small piece of the chicken off. He stared at the small piece of chicken and then looked back up to me, with a small nod from me he swallowed the small piece and I could see all the emotions cross his face as he began to scarf down the rest of the small piece. His wings flared ever so slightly as he bit into the last piece on his plate and I rounded the small island, pressing myself between his massive wings, a gesture to sooth him as I felt the cooling air he normally gave off grow in temperature and sweat began to form on his brow line. Then he had finally swallowed the last piece and chugged the small glass of water I had set out to accompany his meal, I had ran my hands over his shoulders and wrapped them loosely around his neck; His hand reached up and grabbed mine before he was pulling me off him and spinning around, capturing me in a tight hug as he pressed his lips to mine. With a growl he was pulling me down the maze of halls and then we had finally reached the set of familiar large grand doors with swirls and lines that reminded me of his shadows carved into them, the small royal blue rug he used as a welcome mat slid under our feet as he pulled me into another kiss while pressing me against the door. 

He had managed to pull away enough to fumble with the door knob and finally open the door, his room greeted me with the gorgeous ash colored wooden decor accented in that same blue that matched his siphons. I took a few steps inside, he followed right behind, his shadows closing the door behind us with a click; he wrapped himself around me and his lips found purchase on my neck. I could feel everything coursing through him down the bond, my own emotions, hormones, and instincts beginning to scream louder and louder over any clear thoughts I was having. His scarred hands ,that I had found as a beautiful testament to all he had been through, ran under the soft material of the blue shirt and left goosebumps in its path.  

He slipped the shirt off over my head and spun me to face him as he dropped to his knees, pressing several open mouthed kisses to the spattering of scars that adorned my skin. The last coherent thought I had before I lost myself to the haze of the bond was that one day I would kiss over every scar that littered his own skin like he had done with mine, I’d do it as an act of devotion when he thought he wasn’t deserving of anything good in his life. 

He pushed me towards his bed, bedecked in blue silk sheets, till I finally fell back on it and he was right there at the foot of it slipping my boots off. He threw them somewhere across the room and then turned back to me with lust blown eyes, I ran my hand across his jaw line and leaned down to press a kiss against his lips; he replied with a soft moan and as he pulled away he began slipping the pants down my legs, ripping the only covering left on my body like the feral beast he currently was. His fingertips dug into the skin of my thighs as he held them apart, licking his lips with a smirk as he lapped from me like a stray hound. I can’t remember how long we were there but he repeatedly brought me crashing down over the edge on his tongue and fingers, the haze cleared ever so slightly as he threw me further up his bed and settled himself between my hips; my legs wrapped around his hips as he nipped at my neck and throat, a moan fell from my lips as he came to rest the head of his cock against my opening. 

My mouth fell open as he sheathed himself inside me, capturing my lips in his as the moan I screamed echoed off the walls of his room. My legs tightened around his hips holding him close to me as I adjusted to his size, I wasn’t a lady by any means, I had fooled around with the males in the barracks occasionally when tensions were running high after some stressful patrol or hunt but they were all nothing in comparison to the sheer mix of Azriel’s girth and length. While with my newfound growth spurt the stretch didn’t particularly hurt it was still an adjustment, my mind wandered to those nights my mind had drifted to imagining him between my legs instead of my own hand. Azriel’s name was like a prayer falling from my lips as he slammed himself into me, our moans and pants mixing together as we called out each other's names. We were there, slotted together for what felt like ages until his hips stuttered and his wings flared, finally coming undone inside of me after he had brought me repeatedly to the edge and past it.   

As he finally released inside of me, I felt the bond in our chest sing as it solidified and could then feel every ounce of pleasure he had received, if the growl that escaped his throat was any indication of him being able to feel my own, the pride he sent my way was. He finally pulled himself away from me and moved to stand, placing a kiss to my lips that I returned eagerly as he stepped into the attached bathroom. Exhaustion slowly started to come over me as I awaited the male, he returned to me and I couldn't help myself but to pull him back on top of me with another heated kiss.

He let out a mix of a growl and a laugh. “Look if we keep going down this track the bath I just drew for us will be cold by the time we are actually able to return to it.” 

I sighed and relented, letting him carry me to the bathroom where with his help we both sunk into the warm clear water. He held me against his chest and began to run his fingers through my hair as he hummed a soft melody, I started to drift off with my head on his shoulder and he happily let me. He woke me when the water started to get cold, stepping out before me he wrapped a towel around his waist then helping me out and wrapping my own towel around me. My legs were still semi-shaky so he happily elected to carry me back to the bed, dropping both towels at the foot of the bed; he pulled back the sheets letting me crawl under them he followed behind me, pulling  me to his chest we managed to get a few hours of sleep before he was slotting himself back between my legs and my hands found purchase at the spot where the membrane of his wings met his skin. The moan that left his mouth as he shuddered above me would never leave my thoughts, neither would the sensitivity of his wings.

It took us about two weeks before we were able to leave the confines of his room, finally going back to training was a relief especially after we had moved my belongings into his room earlier that morning. However Azriel was still overly territorial of me so Cassian found himself pouting as he sparred with Rhys. We had kept that routine until Azriel’s territorial behavior had lessened as long as I was within eyesight, Rhys was finally able to teach me how to control my mental shield and prevent daemati attacks. I had become a natural quickly between training with Rhys and sparring with Azriel as he furthered my teachings on fighting, we were in the middle of sparring when Rhys announced the boys would need to fetch Feyre and the friend that was accompanying her out of Spring Court. I had kissed Azriel goodbye and wished him well as he and Cassian took to the sky, I had decided to take the opportunity to fully explore the house; I had either been too entertained in Azriel, injured, or busy to fully explore it earlier.  

I pushed a semi-large door open to be greeted with isles of bookshelves, a hearth that wasn’t lit, a long table with many chairs, and a few small loveseats in front of the hearth with a small coffee table and rug. Inside sat Nesta, who scowled at me, a handful of books whose genre matched what she and Elain enjoyed reading; I had no doubt she was reading them to Elain, Rhys had kept me updated on my sister's conditions. 

“Sister…” A half-hearted acknowledgement as she turned back to the isles picking another book out.

“Nes! You look good! You could eat a bit more but-”I happily circled her taking her in before she cut me off.

“You look like you’ve adjusted to this life well.” It was a bitter acknowledgement that I did indeed look and act better than both her and Elain did right now.

 “Well, Yes I have, Azriel has been a great help with everything-” She started towards the exit and I followed behind her.

“Well, you were always the wild one, I suppose it's fitting for the beast to feel at home amongst them.” I stopped in my tracks and she pushed her way out of the library. 

“Nes..” I reached out for her but the door shut without her even looking back.

I tried to block my emotions from flooding Azriel while he was on the mission, simply sighing and turning back to the shelves around me; I plucked a random book from a shelf and made my way back to Azriel and I’s room, our room. The comforting shadows carved into his door were a happy sight as I oh so elegantly threw myself onto the black loveseat he had moved from my room into here, grabbing a fur blanket I made myself at home on the small couch with my book and some tea graciously provided to me by the house. Maybe once Feyre was back it would knock some sense into Nesta and Elain, I could hope at least.

I felt a calling from the bond an hour later, Azriel had made it back with Cassian, Feyre, and that red-headed male that had stepped towards Elain.  I bounded up the stairs, racing through the halls and then finally slid into the living room. Feyre was wrapped in Rhys’s arms and I threw myself into Azriel’s welcoming him back with a kiss, Feyre whipped her head around to  look at us; Rhys hadn’t told her we had accepted the bond yet, so when she found out she happily congratulated us. I pulled her into a crushing hug, which she tapped out of just as Rhys had called a meeting that had the entire inner circle making their way into the sitting room with us. 

Mor happily smiled and waved at me, she had watched me spar with Az and train with Rhys and when the boys just needed to absolutely deck each other she would lead me up one balcony to where  her and Amren set up a small little tanning spot. Amren, while Azriel had described her as this terrifying creature based on the energy she gave off, had only ever seemed as an equal to me. I had never felt that overwhelming power like the boys had described to me, she gave me a small smile and sat on the other side of me.  While tucked into Azriel’s side with Amren’s foot touching my own in a comfortable silence, Nesta and Elain finally entered the room. It was a long night but eventually after a heated argument between my sisters everyone was dismissed, my sisters being allowed to keep to their own devices. 

Azriel was sparring with Cassian and I had found myself holed up in Amren’s apartment with her doing puzzles when we had gotten an emergency call from Rhys. Amren and I both sped out of her apartment and we were off towards the mountain house, Azriel and Cassian picking us up and bringing us up the stairs to save us some time. We had been informed of the break in to the library, Amren and I were both on edge this understanding between us, when one was on edge then the other was too. Rhysand had asked her to comb through the rest of Velaris that night to see if any other uninvited guests were hidden amongst us, Amren invited me with her and I happily agreed. Azriel covered me with my furs and cloak and kissed my forehead as I set off to join Amren in this makeshift hunt. 

It seemed like a back to back eventful week, I had crawled back into bed beside Azriel extremely late at night or extremely early in the morning depending on how you looked at it and it felt like I had just fallen asleep when Azriel awoke me in an emergency. Azriel had hurriedly told me Adriata was under attack and I slipped into the leathers Azriel had made for me adding my  furs and cloak back onto my shoulder, next thing I know I’m in the bloodied streets of Adriata beside Mor and Feyre, Azriel and Cassian somewhere in the skies with whatever other forces Rhys had scrounge together on such short notice.  I had been pulled into a hallway by someone whose armor I recognized as the enemy held me in a chokehold and I couldn’t get a grip on them due to how they had my arms restrained, an idea graced me as their arm  rubbed against my face in my struggle. I growled before opening my mouth and latching my sharpened teeth into their arm, they screamed and relaxed their grip; it was enough of a give I was able to tear my mouth away from their arm and turn on them before tearing their head from their shoulders, a trick Amren had taught me. I rejoined their side and they both gave me a look that questioned if I was okay without the words leaving their mouth. 

Then we were back home, and I was more than thankful to rinse the blood from my face. Nesta seemed to be coming around slowly as she worked with Amren, Elian was still pale and distant but was slowly coming around with Nuala and Cerridwen. Everything had seemed like it was going okay when Rhys and my sister finally announced the meeting with the rest of the high lords. I stayed beside Azriel the entire time we were there, it had seemed like negotiations were going fairly okay, yes there was people acting suspicious of others but with a war on the horizon who wouldn’t be suspicious of others, until Eris had opened his mouth about what had happened to Mor; she had confided in me what had happened one day when I had seen the scars while we were tanning, Eris’s words had enraged me and Azriel as well. If I hadn’t been enraged I was sure Azriel could have kept his composure if it wasn’t for my added emotions screaming down the bond. 

Azriel reached across the table and had decked Eris, I stood from my own chair when Eris had landed a hit against Azriel’s cheek; a growl had ust echoed from my chest when the fight was called off. That had been the start of the downwards spiral of the first day of the meeting, Tamlin showing up and portraying my sister the way he did was enough for Azriel to defend her and when Azriel was dismissed out of hand it took everything I    had in me to not rip Tamlin’s throat out; thankfully I was still able to threaten to do it. With tensions so high the first day of the meeting was called, the rest of the circle retired to our quarters with Helion in tow.

The second day started out alright, we all thought all tensions or issues had been aired, by the mother were we wrong. Interrupting us in the middle of a thought Nesta had screamed while the hairs on the back of my neck raised and we heard a loud crackle and roar, the color had drained from everyone’s faces as we realized what that had meant, the wall had fallen. 

It had been months of war, fight after fight had everyone exhausted, and we all knew the last leg of the fight was nearing. Elain had been kidnapped by the cauldron, Nesta felt like she was guilty for opening the bridge that had let that happen; Azriel had calmed me while I destroyed the inside of the tent we all stood in at the news she had been taken, had let me get the anger that I failed to protect both of my younger sisters now. Then Feyre was concocting a plan and going into the enemy camp as Ianthe, Feyre was rescuing Elain while also rescuing an additional person with the help of Tamlin and Jurian. It was only after this we had found out Juriuan was a spy and was actually on our side, but they wouldn’t make it out with the naga-hounds on their tails and Azriel had to help rescue them.  I had been panicked enough at the thought of my sisters in danger but from across the hills I watched as a naga-hound had sunk its fangs into Azriel’s wings, the scream that left me was gut wrenching as I felt the pure pain my mate was in. 

Finally everyone was back in the camp, Azriel in the med-tent being cared for by Madja the thought of losing his ability to fly due to permanent damage to his wings looming over both of our heads. I knew how much flying meant to him, but the final day of the fight was upon us and I wasn’t going to let my sisters be on that field without me.  I had come face to face with the weaver while I was out on the field, she had stopped and acknowledged me with a small smirk before she continued on her bloody rampage. Bryaxis and the Carver were there as well, I had crossed paths with them once or twice, and we had covered each other's back, why they had done it? I haven't a clue, but I assumed they recognized the rage beginning to boil under my skin, that had finally started to rear its head as I ripped those that opposed me apart. Whatever it was that lurked under my skin snapped as I heard Nesta scream, my vision blurred and I felt that terrible snap of my bones as I blindly ran towards my sisters. 

It was as my vision cleared that I truly recognized what my gift from the cauldron was, what I had agreed to in the depths of the cauldron when faced with the beast that lurked there. I loomed over the fae scattered about the grounds around me, some shrieked in horror others stood stunned, I felt something thrashing against my mouth and gritted my teeth, biting down i felt the familiar crunch of bones yet it was all so different as a scream erupted and the taste of blood filled my mouth. I had become the same beast I faced inside the cauldron, I felt the energy that thrummed through me as I raced towards where I felt my sisters. As I reached the top of the hill I saw our father there, when had he joined the battle? How long had I been enraged?

Cassian was there too, Nesta covering his body wit her own, and the King had a sickening smirk on his face. My father stood between Nesta and the King, a pit formed in my stomach as read filled me, one paw in front of the other I tried to force my body forward. Before I can blink the King has my father’s head in his grasp, a sickening snap has me charging forward as our father slumps to the floor. A blur of movement, as my vision begins to blur again, then I’m towering over the King. I hear Elain scream as they snap closed around the King and his headless body slumps to the ground beside our fathers, his blood tasted bitter and I feel the crunch of his skull collapsing in on itself within my mouth. I let it fall from my mouth and watch as it awkwardly rolls a few inches from where it had hit the ground. Elain has a bag of medical supplies and moves to stand by Nesta and Elain, our eyes catch on eachother and there's an understanding there, they recognize me.

“Sister…’Elain barely mumbles it. 

I stand in shock before I feel the bones in my body cracking again, exhaustion crashes into me and I’m back in my fae body. I can’t even take a step before I’m collapsing and hearing yet another heartbroken scream from across the field, my vision blurs like that time back in the throne room after the cauldron. 

I hear murmuring when I finally come back too, based on the smell and colors I’m able to figure out I’m in the med tent. Azriel is in the bed to my left, still healing from his wounds the hounds caused. He looks like he's been crying and I try to push myself up to comfort him, all the voices silence all at once; the rest of the circle stands around me and Azriel, Madja helps me sit up and it's only then I realize it's not only me and Azriel there, Cassian is in a cot across from Azriel and Amren in one across from me and Rhys is being looked over while he sits on a stool in the center of the four of us. 

It's Azriel’s voice that finds its way to me first. “Hey Wildling, good to see you awake, take it easy. You overdid it out there, but you still did it, you took the king down. According to Cass, you ripped his head straight off his body. Good job Love.”

It's a bitter smile in his voice. “I remember that, what happened after? It's all a blur.”

 Cassian's astonished laugh is my answer “You ripped his head off, ended the whole thing, then you changed back from whatever that huge creature version of you was and passed out.” 

“It's what I saw when I went under in the cauldron. That beast is my gift, I guess.” I dryly answered back, still sore from the pain in my bones. 

It was then after we had cleared up what had happened with me, with the king did Feyre, Rhys, and Amren tell us what all else happened. Rhys had died, Feyre had felt the bond break and begged the lords to give him his life back. Amren had sacrificed herself for us too, she technically had died, sacrificed the ancient part of herself and was now just a regular high fae. Our father was dead, and the war was over. Life could somewhat return to normal, and I was grateful.

Finally Solstice was rolling around and everyone could breath somewhat normally, Azriel and Cassian had both healed nicely. Azriel and I had grown even closer and stronger, we had thrown around the idea that sometime after the solstice we would do an actual ceremony that mated fae did when they decided to marry. I had been ecstatic, we had cried the night he suggested it and had made love for hours, staying in bed the next day till well after the sun was over the mountain. 

I had managed to get some time to do solstice shopping today since Azriel was out on a mission from Rhys, he said he would be back before dinner tonight. It had felt like I had searched every shop, yet I still couldn't find something for Azriel. Everyone else I had gotten something, even Nesta though I knew it was unlikely she'd be there with her current habits; she had asked to be left alone so I left her alone.

For Mor I had found a pretty red night dress that was incredibly thin and strappy with a slit that easily would’ve reached her navel, for Amren a pair of sapphire earrings with a matching bracelet set, for Cassian a set of training wraps for his hands as he had taken to complaining about the new scars there bugging him, for Rhys a set of small purple cufflinks, Elain a book I had found talking about gardens and plant life throughout the courts, Feyre I had got a set of canvases made from incredibly nice materials and the stuff to make your own p[aint like she had when we were younger, Nesta a collectors set of books she had often read as a child i had to admit I asked Rhysand to get them from the human lands for me, but Azriel? I was clueless. When asked he said he wanted nothing, but by the mother I was going to get him something.  It was only after I turned into another shop that I spied the smallest thing in a glass case out of the corner of my eyes. 

Elain had asked if a tonic for his headaches from Madja would be a good gift, as the male did often battle headaches from his terrible sleep regime. There was one thing he complained about, especially more often now that the colder months were approaching; the scars on his hands would often become sore, sometimes they would become so painful he couldn’t spar or even write. In a small glass case I spied a silk pair of gloves, I knew there was an enchanter in Velaris and was quick to purchase the soft gloves. I wanted to get him soft gloves so they wouldn’t catch on the scars, a bell ringed above me as I pushed the door to the enchanter open. An older male greeted me, and I passed him the gloves explaining what kind of enchantment I wanted to put on them; he nodded knowingly and brought them into the back to get to work, he returned them to me half an hour later folded and wrapped in blue tissue paper. I thanked him cheerily and paid him generously for his work.   

Back at home I sat criss-cross on the floor, wrapping the gifts in shimmery black paper and wrapping them with blue bows. Eventually calling Rhys to hide them away with the rest of the presents like Azriel had told me to do. I decided to take a nap on the couch and Azriel had returned right on cue, well before dinner was to start. We made our way to the townhouse for dinner that was beginning to be decorated for solstice, after everyone had ate and said their goodnights Azriel swept me into the air; a tradition we had started after family dinners was to go on a flight across Velaris, I’d be clutched tight against Azriel’s chest as we soared above the city and finally back to the house on top of the mountain. I had happily curled up on his side that night as the solstice crept closer.

When finally the day of solstice had come around, Azriel had brought me down to the town house, kissed me goodbye, and informed me he would be back before dinner. The other two illyrian males disappeared with him, and I helped my sisters with preparations.  Mor and Feyre disappeared together  for a few hours, it was well after noon when everyone had finally returned from their little snowball fight; Rhys and Cassian were pouting  as they kicked the snow off their boots upon entering the town house. My mate proudly walked in behind them, head held high, very obviously the winner. I pressed a kiss to his lips and congratulated him and in response he deepened it, slipping his tongue into his my mouth for a second before Rhys and Cassian were faking gagging noises. 

Eventually the time for presents rolled around and everyone had started exchanging gifts, then Nesta had showed up in a pretty rough condition. I hugged her and pulled her to sit beside me, pressing the boxes from Elain and I into her hands; tears had welled in her eyes when she saw what I had gotten her but she caught herself before they fell and simply thanked me with a hug. Everyone else exchanged presents, save for a few of us mates, Rhys and Feyre hadnt publicly exchanged gifts and neither had Az and I. We celebrated Feyre’s birthday and then Az and I went out to Elain’s gardens, which had been decorated with strings of faelights. I asked Az if I could give him my gift first, to which he easily agreed and I presented him with the gloves.  He slipped them on over his hands and tears found themselves in his eyes as he thanked me and peppered me with kisses, eventually he composed himself and asked me to close my eyes to which I agreed.

I heard a crunch as he shifted around in his spot, “Alright, open them.” 

Tears filled my eyes at the sight in front of me, Azriel was kneeled in front of me, a ring box presented out to me.

“I know we already discussed this and both agreed to it, but I hadn’t got you a ring to symbolize it yet.Happy Solstice my wildling.” He stood and slipped the ring onto my finger. 

We had returned inside to find everyone else passed out or in their room,we slipped into ours just like everyone else. 

A few months later Feyre was announcing her pregnancy, we had all celebrated together and that night had flipped a switch in Azriel, neither of us had really known the male had a thing for breeding until the thought of us being in Feyre and Rhys’ position had crossed his thoughts, that night was filled with breathy moans and the sound of skin pounding against skin. Yet the simple act was enough to satiate Azriel’s hunger, to satiate us both really. 

Feyre had a difficult pregnancy but pulled through, Nesta sacrificed her powers to save Feyre’s life and before we knew it. Feyre was pregnant with her second and Azriel became hungrier and more feral when he fucked me, claiming his instincts were screaming at him to repeatedly fill me.  

It had all been okay until Nesta and Casssian had their first born, a whole new side to Azriel unlocked. I had never seen Azriel as jealous as he was the day we all sat around the living room, the infant in Nesta’s arms and Cassian leaning over her shoulder to wiggle his finger at the small girl whose wings flapped happily. Nyx was six at the time and had eagerly climbed into my head to hug me, ever the affectionate child unlike his sister who wanted nothing to do with anyone since her birth. Azriel’s eyes caught on me holding and rocking the six year old and I felt the pride roll down the bond from him, I sent him a joyous wave back.

It was only when Cassian and Nesta passed me their daughter did I really feel how jealous Azriel had become of the little families his brothers had crafted. As the small girl placed her tiny hand around my own an dI began to tear up as she smiled happily at me with the biggest grin on her face, I looked over to Az and saw the emotion in his eyes, a mix of lust, jealousy, and pride. I offered the small babe to him and he took her in his massive hands, adorned with the silk gloves I had bought him all those years ago. She wrapped her hand around one of his fingers and he looked up at me with massive puppy dog eyes. 

Azriel’s birthday approached quickly, and I knew above all else there was thing he wanted for his birthday. I had felt it enough through the bond, every time he would see his brothers with their small families a small wave of jealousy and want would be sent through to me. Cassian’s daughter had just started walking, took her first steps today because she had wanted her father and he was just out of her reach on the couch, Azriel had been witness as she threw herself in Cassian’s arms; he had come down to our room that night upset, had cried in my arms how he had wanted what they have. It wasn’t that we were doing anything to prevent a pregnancy but when both of my sisters had conceived they had taken potions to boost their fertility. Which led me to Azriel’s birthday gift and the current appointment I had with Madja. 

With the potion secured the day of his birthday, thanks to Rhys’s wonderful distraction, I was able to wrap it in a small box and hide it within our room. After hiding it I had made it back to the kitchens just as Rhys and Azriel had returned, Azriel pressed a kiss to my lips and Nyx had run in and threw himself onto Az in a bear hug. It was an endearing sight that had me hoping that with the addition of the potion Madja had made me soon enough our own son would be doing that to his father. 

Dinner had gone off without a hitch, Nyx and his 4 year old sister Aurora lit up the table with their argument over whether or not Helion’s pegasi hatched from eggs like birds or were live births like horses. Nyx was getting fed up with Aurora's egg theory since he had asked ‘Grandpa Helion’ himself last time they had gone there, Arora was 2 and he had been 6 so of course he knew what he was talking about. Rhysand was rubbing his temples in agony, apparently the children had been having this argument all day, and wouldn’t let any adult butt in and settle it. 

Eventually all the kids tired themselves out and everyone started toting them to their rooms, Rhys had hugged AZriel wishing him a goodnight, Feyre taking the chance to whisper to me a goodluck with a wink her mate not far behind her with a smirk and a nod in my direction as they headed off for their wing of the manor.  Cassian and Neesta had left almost right after cake due to their daughter completely crashing and passing out at the table in her high chair. 

Azriel smiled and let out a soft sigh. “Thank you for planning this love, it was a nice night.” he placed a kiss to my temple with a small content hum.

“It only gets better from here Az.” I smirked and he wiggled his brows in response.

“Oh yeah?” a smirk flitted onto his features.

“Yep. Still have to give you your present.” I nodded smugly and started pulling him towards our chambers.

He followed , curiosity evident as he tried to repeatedly guess what I had gotten him, guess after guess fell from his lips. Before Madja would give me the potion she had to check and make sure that if I managed to conceive it wouldn’t be a risk to my health since I didn’t have the magical benefit from Nesta’s powers that my sisters did, but thank the cauldron literally,  because when it gave me my gift the growth spurt affected all of my bones including my hips so I was safe to carry his child. We made it into our room, my furs hung up on a coat rack beside the wing-suited coat I had got him last solstice and beside them a end table we used as a catch-all. I had hidden it here in the drawer because we always just threw stuff on top of it and went on collapsing into bed at night after rough missions. 

He furrowed his brow as I pulled the box out and handed it to him, I gestured for him to open the small box  and he stilled when he saw the small vial.

His eyes darted between me and the vial, tears began to well in his eyes. “Is this…”

 He had to bite back a sob so I finished the thought for him. “The fertility boost both my sisters used when they conceived? Yeah it is, I finally got approved by Madja for it.”

He dropped to his knees holding the vial and sobbing. “Thank you, my wildling, thank you.”

I took a few steps towards him prompting him to stand up and pulled him into a deep hug, until he composed himself and stopped crying. 

He handed me and the vial with a pleading look on his face. “Can we use it tonight?” 

I took it from him and popped the cork out of the small bottle, shooting the terrible tasting liquid into my mouth. I wiped my mouth as I smirked back at him. “That's the plan shadowsinger.”

His shadows curled happily around my feet as I pulled him into a deep kiss, slowly coaxing him farther and farther into our room as I managed to strip his clothes from him. Then when we had finally gotten close enough to the bed, I pulled him down on top of me while I nipped at his jawline.  I could feel the effects of  the potion slowly start taking effect, I had been told it would increase the amount of lubricant my body produced as well as a dull throbbing ache within my ovaries and uterus. 

Azriel realized fairly quickly he was the only naked one and ripped my clothes from my body, his head dropped to my core and he buried his tongue inside of, bringing me to orgasm a handful of times. Eventually satisfied with the taste of me on his tongue, he buried himself to the hilt inside of me and I could feel the tip of him kiss my cervix. I screamed his name until my throat was hoarse that night, only soothed when he had spilled a handful of times into me and finally pulled out only to replace my dripping cunt with my mouth instead. 

We slept in the entirety of the next day, either wrapped up in each other as the potion boosted fertility for 48 hours, or sleeping and recovering some energy; though there had been many times we had fallen asleep together with him still buried deep inside of me so as not to waste anything.  I had made a promise with Madja that I'd start checking in with her weekly after the potion was consumed and the effects had come and gone, so if I was to get pregnant from this night, we would catch it as early as possible to start me on the correct vitamins and set up a care plan immediately. 

As I laid there in Azriel’s arms I could only hope that thanks to the potions help his seed would take root and I would be able to grant him this one small thing he so desperately deserved.  His snores lulled me into my own sleep and in my heart were that bond sung and glowed brightly I had a feeling the intended result would in fact take root.

[jazzyoranges]

Can you write a friends with benefits situation Wednesday or Tara has with gp reader? Wednesday or Tara enforces a no strings attach policy but of course reader has to catch feelings and admits their feelings. It freaks Tara/wednesday and causes her to push them away and ghost them effectively hurting the reader who after a while tries to rebound with another girl causing major jealousy from Tara/Wednesday. You can choose the ending I just wanna see some jealous smut and angst mix in there 😩

She’s my Collar

Wednesday Addams x fem!werewolf!reader

Words: 4.6k (whoopsies)

Warnings: gp!reader, definitely ooc Wednesday, heat cycles, unprotected sex, knotting, explicit smut, everyone is 18+, Wednesday calls you a mutt and a puppy, breeding kink, is it really pet play if you’re actually a pet?, italian/spanish pet names and phrases, possessive Wednesday, fluff, angst i think

A/n: so sorry it took so long for me to write this anon who requested 😓 could be read as a prequel to this fic, but not specifically written as one. also i kinda strayed away from the original request, sorry about that too 😭🫶

MINORS DNI!

Wednesday didn’t want to admit it, but she was feeling a certain emotion that was completely undesirable. You’ve been out sick for an entire week. Wednesday hadn’t seen you in the last 8 days, 17 hours, and 42 minutes. But who was counting? Definitely not the Addams girl

Others would say Wednesday looked the same as any other week, but Enid’s roommate senses were tingling. Constantly fiddling with her rings, the very prominent scowl on her face that was meaner than usual, and the common frustrated grunts when Wednesday would make a mistake with her writing. Something was up, and not even god herself couldn’t stop Enid from figuring it out

While Wednesday was smart in every aspect except social, Enid’s people smarts came in useful every now and again. It really didn’t take long for her to piece two and two together. Angry roommate while someone she frequently hung out with was out sick? It was child’s play, really. All she needed to do was have Wednesday come to the same conclusion as her

Easier said that done, really. Wednesday was a knucklehead not so smart when it came to emotions. Any emotion other than creating despair, Wednesday struggled with. Luckily Enid was dedicated and also a knucklehead

Currently Wednesday was seated at her desk, simply staring at a blank piece of paper without moving. On any normal day her fingers would be speeding across the typewriter with ideas constantly coming to her. Now she was met with absolute digital silence from her mind, which proved to be discouraging and inconvenient to say the least

“Alright, Wednesday. What’s going on?”

“I have not a clue what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been different this entire week. Spill the beans”

“As I’ve just said, I don’t have the information you want.”

“It’s because you haven’t seen her all week, right? You miss her, don’t you?”

“Why would I miss that mutt of a werewolf? I do not miss Y/n.”

“I never said her name, yet you know exactly who I’m talking about. Funny how that works, Wednesday” Enid teases. Her roomie has been caught red handed

“If you want your tongue, I’d recommend you stop talking.”

“Cmon, Wednesday, I’m being serious. It’s not weird to miss a friend. How about you check up on her?”

“First, I do not miss her. Second, she is definitely fine. I do not need to check up on her.”

“She’s been out sick for an entire week. She texted me just today the sickness isn’t showing any signs of stopping”

“Why has she not called the nurse, then?”

“She told me they ran out of the medicine she needs. The sickness is werewolf specific. I’ve gotten it before and it hurt like a bitch without medicine”

“What kind of school clinic runs out of medicine?” Wednesday says under her breath while getting up. Presumably to check on you, Enid assumes

“It’s really high in demand right now. It only infects werewolves, so you won’t catch it”

“I suppose I’ll ask Y/n on the specifics of her current condition. Perhaps it could be a part in my writings.”

“I’m sure it will be, Wednesday. Tell me how it goes!” Enid waves goodbye to Wednesday as she exits, and the Addams misses her roommates wolfish grin

Luckily your dorm isn’t too far away from Ophelia hall but it’s still a considerable walk to and from. The walk there gives Wednesday enough time to really question why she was doing this. She did not care for you, that was most definitely certain. At least that’s what Wednesday kept telling herself when she neared your room

The Addams girl hesitated before she knocked on your door. She could hear you whimpering and whining in pain, your tail quickly thumping against your bed. The shorter girl bit the bullet and held her fist against the door, quickly knocking on it

“Open up, Y/n or I’ll be forced to axe down your door.”

“Go away, Wednesday” Your voice was muffled

“Either I pick your lock or you open this door. Make your decision.”

Wednesday hears your feel shuffle to the door, and you open it just enough for your eye to peek out. Wednesday immediately notices your flushed skin and dark eye bags. You’re only wearing a tank top and boxers, trying to hide your lower body behind the door

“What do you want?” You spit out a bit more aggressively than you mean to

“I’ve come to check up on your illness”

“I’m uh- I’m okay. You can go now, Wednesday”

“You obviously aren’t, you haven’t gone to your classes all week.”

“Listen, I’m not actually sick. If I tell you what’s actually happening, promise you won’t freak out?”

“I promise.”

You suck in a breath to calm your nerves. “I’m in heat. The school clinic ran out of suppressants, so I haven’t been able to come to classes”

Wednesday looked you up and down, and in a split second she felt something she hadn’t before. Something about how your wolfish features came out. Ears were pressed against your head, tail hung low and swaying softly, and Wednesday noticed your fangs poke out when you spoke

“Let me help you.”

“W-What?” You momentarily stoped holding the door, and Wednesday let herself inside. Wednesday was immediately hit with a musk that was so… you. Werewolves weren’t her major, but she could tell you’ve marked your entire room with your own scent. Something about it made Wednesday’s mind think of all the unspeakable things she wanted to do to you

“Uh, sorry for the mess. And sorry for the smell, I know it’s bad…” You shift on your feet, and it’s only then Wednesday notices the tent in your boxers. Quickly mumbling out apology after apology, you move your tail so it covers your growing erection

“Stop apologizing, it’s getting quite annoying. I said I’d help you, did I not?”

“Help me like..?”

“Yes. Help you as in having sexual intercourse”

Your cheeks flush red and you have to actively stop your tail from wagging in excitement. Wednesday takes a step closer, but you take a step back

“A-Are you sure? You’re human, and I’m a werewolf. Your body isn’t designed to handle our heats”

Wednesday takes another step closer to you, grabbing your neck to make you look straight in her eyes. You can’t stop the whimper that escapes your throat

“I decide what I can handle.” The shorter girl firmly gropes at your clothed erection, and you moan at the contact

“Wednesday, I-”

“A dumb puppy is what you are. Why didn’t you tell me you were in heat?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t think you’d care” When Wednesday starts to massage your clothed cock more roughly, she earns another moan out of your throat

“Please, please make it better, Wednesday. It hurts so fucking much” You whimper, and Wednesday wonders if you’d look good in a collar with her name on it. She’d have to save that idea for a different day.

“Puppy.”

“Wednesday?”

“Take everything off. I want to see all of you.”

Wordlessly, you start to strip, which doesn’t take long since you’re barely wearing any clothes. Your mindless obedience made Wednesday happy. You start with your tank top and the Addams chooses to observe every part of you. Wednesday notices you’re considerably more furry than usual, your happy trail showing just above your boxer briefs

“Are you sure?” You ask nervously when you reach your boxers, and Wednesday is getting considerably more impatient

“Do I have to do everything for you?” Wednesday mutters while she takes off your boxers instead. The shorter girl sucks in a breath when your hardened cock slaps against your stomach

Wednesday didn’t expect you to be so… lewdly big. Looking at the size of your erection only reminded her your body was meant to breed. You were designed to reproduce, and the thought turned Wednesday on more than she liked

The shorter girl pushes you onto your bed, and she takes a second to look at the state you’re in

“Please, Wednesday…” You whine

“Be patient, Y/n. You’ll get there eventually”

“It hurts so much, please I can’t wait” Begging harder, Wednesday doesn’t likehow her first instinct is to give you what you want

“You’re lucky I tolerate you. If you were any other person, I’d think this was dehumanizing.” She pushes you further back, licking a stripe up your tip and across a vein. You have to stop yourself from cumming embarrassingly quick

Wednesday keeps giving your shaft long kitten-licks and you’re in heaven when she finally decides to suck your tip with a new type of hunger.

And due to previous attempts at suppressing your heat by yourself, your cock was absolutely raw at how much you masturbated. It only made Wednesday’s tongue feel even better

She hollows out her cheeks, making your tip hit the back of her throat. This earns a groan from the back of your throat. You didn’t know if touching was allowed due to her track record of broken arms and hands, so you decide to play it safe by just holding onto your bedsheets for dear life

“F-Fuck, I’m about to-“ Before you can finish your sentence, Wednesday pulls away from your cock. The look on your face is something Wednesday would like to cherish. Your penis was twitching like crazy. It was drooling with pre-cum and the shorter girls saliva. She couldn’t help but admire how you shook under her

“Why’d you stop?” Whining seemed to be a strong suit of yours

“In me.” Wednesday wipes a bit of her saliva off her chin, and you swear it’s the most attractive thing ever “Now.”

“Huh?”

“You know what I mean. Really, do I always have to spell it out for you?”

“You have to cut me some slack here, Wens…”

“I suppose I could provide an understanding for your view. You’re nothing but a dumb pup, are you not? Your kind is known to follow orders.”

“I think you’re confusing me with a domesticated dog, Wednesday”

“If I were to demand you pluck stars from the night, you would, would you not?”

“I mean I would, but for different reasons…”

“My point still stands.” Wednesday mumbles, sinking down on your erection. You don’t remember when she got naked, but you’re also not exactly complaining

The Addams holds onto your shoulders for support, and you hesitate before putting your hands on her hips. Luckily you made the right choice, your warm hands directly polar to Wednesday’s.

It takes a little effort for Wednesday to completely take in your cock, but the stretch is worth it when she sees your labored breathing like she’s the best pussy you’ve ever had. Which, Wednesday wouldn’t admit she was proud of. She could feel every vein on your cock and every twitch made her spiral into thoughts of you

The sight is funny, you think. The Wednesday Addams is impaled on your cock. The Wednesday Addams that saved Nevermore. The Wednesday Addams that was notorious for being gorgeously scary. That Wednesday Addams was riding your dick like her life depended on it.

Skin slapping together was music to your ears, and the feeling in your lower stomach you recognized well was rapidly building up. Wednesday came with a hitch in her breath, and you reluctantly pulled out before releasing your own cum with a groan. Both of you are left breathing hard.

“There will be a silver bullet in your skull if you so much as think about telling anyone about this.” Wednesday mutters in between breaths.

“Duly noted.”

—

You’ve been in this arrangement with Wednesday for about 4 months, now

The first month consisted of a casual fuck here and there. After a particularly hard week, teachers being annoying, or a hard test. It wasn’t difficult to keep your situation away from your friends. For all they knew, you two were still the platonic match-made-in-hell duo that were strictly friends

The second month was a little harder to keep your situation away from your friends. Wednesday would randomly pull you into any empty closet or classroom she could for a quick orgasm to get her through the day

The third month was rough. You two went on dates as you liked to call it, but Wednesday would call them study sessions or hangouts. Trips to Jericho on the weekend, Wednesday helping you with botany, it was practically impossible to separate both of you. Unfortunately your friends became suspicious

So during the fourth month, a new vampire transferred to Nevermore. You were assigned to give her a tour of the school and her classes. When Wednesday saw you two hang out when you’d usually see the Addams, she suspected the tour went better than anticipated. What Wednesday expected to be a minor inconvenience for one day, caused her many unwanted thoughts. It made a vein pop out of her neck. (not literally, but that’s what it felt like)

Wednesday noticed how you two started spending more time together after and during school. Of course there was definitely a reasonable explanation, you were her only friend. Unfortunately a very minuscule part of her brain is telling her you like the new vampire more than the Addams. The thought didn’t sit right with her

You were supposed to be Wednesday’s. You were supposed to only have eyes for the Addams and not some vampire that doesn’t even make you half as happy as her. You would always be Wednesday’s. When you finally realized the vampire wasn’t enough to satiate your needs, Wednesday would be there. She would be there to catch your fall, and the thought made her uncomfortable.

Wednesday Addams, a feared individual that wore her heart tucked under enough layers of blunt sarcasm and a deathly scary look, yet once glance from you sent her spiraling into something between fear and love. She hated it. She hated you. Wednesday hated you for bringing this side out of her she swore to be kept away from the surface of her character.

The Addams couldn’t afford this. You were her weakness. You definitely knew this as well. Unwanted doubt flooded her mind. Thoughts that ended up with you exploiting her only weakness made her heart ache, and not in a way she enjoyed.

You would end up breaking off your relationship with the Addams, leaving her to be made a fool as you were the only one that could do it. The worst part is Wednesday couldn’t even be angry with you. She knew you deserved someone of your own kind. Another werewolf that would understand and satiate your needs. Wednesday would end the arrangement the next time she saw you.

—

“(L/n).”

“Wednesday?” You open up your door with a smile on your face. A sight for sore eyes is what you were.

“We cannot continue our arrangement.”

“What? What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Wednesday wished she could take back her words, but she was doing this to keep herself safe. To make you happy.

“Our late night meetings can no longer continue. I’ve grown uncomfortable with your presence.”

“Wednesday, I-“

“A nuisance is what you are. You’re needy, and you can’t do anything by yourself. You really are just a dumb mutt. You are incapable of doing anything except cling to me like a lost child.” Wednesday spits out, and something akin to regret dawns on her face

Stray tears leave your eyes and you wipe them up as quickly as they fall, but Wednesday notices. She can tell you’re trying to be strong, your quivering lip giving you away

“I’m- I’m sorry you feel that way, Addams.” You say before turning your back on Wednesday, closing the door. Broken sobs escape your throat, and Wednesday brings her hand up to your doorknob. She thinks a little longer before a single tear falls from her eye. She turns to leave instead.

—

Three weeks, nearing four since you’ve last talked to Wednesday. You’ve been out for a week and a half and Wednesday knows exactly why. Since the Addams has been helping with your heats for the past few months, you haven’t needed to request for more suppressants. Neither you nor Wednesday knew why your heats were commonly hell-ish and lasted for weeks without the suppressants you desperately needed

Really, she could picture you right now. You would’ve found the boxers that created the least amount of friction, and you’d be whimpering and whining while your tail rapidly thumped against the bed mattress. Finding the nearest thing to bite, which usually happened to be your bed frame, you’d sink your teeth into the cold wood and find a splinter on your tongue the next time you brushed your teeth. Rinse and repeat until you eventually fell asleep or Wednesday saved you from your own body

It was pathetic how much you constantly needed Wednesday…and consequently, how much Wednesday needed you.

Disgusting is the only word Wednesday can choose when thinking of how much space in her mind you took up. She was seated in the Quad while eating an apple and contemplating her life. Which, was not in an ideal situation.

“I know you want to talk to her, Wednesday” Enid takes a seat near the shorter girl

“I do not.”

“I know for a fact you didn’t mean what you said. Unfortunately, you’re too stubborn to realize it”

“She has that new girl, does she not?”

“For the last time, Wednesday, they aren’t dating”

“They may as well be. The two are practically attached at the hip”

“So were you two, but then you decided to fuck it all up and haven’t talked to her since” Enid groans. This is was going to be harder than she thought

“Wednesday, you know how much I love you, right?”

“Annoyingly so.”

“Not-so-respectfully, you fucked up really bad. I know you didn’t mean it, but would you rather see her kiss another girl, or would you rather be the girl she kisses?”

The question makes Wednesday hesitate, and relief washes over Enid. Did she want to be with you? She mentally scoffs at the thought. The Wednesday Addams uncharacteristically soft for a girl. Outrageous. Disgusting. Absolutely unheard-

“Well, it seems you have your answer. Talk to her right now, ‘kay?” Enid knew her roomie would do the right thing even if it was gut wrenchingly difficult

The shorter girl only responds with a grumble, but it’s enough of an answer for Enid to skip away and continue being the social butterfly she was. Wednesday was going to… apologize to you. Just thinking of the word made her recoil, but it was you she was going to. As much as Wednesday didn’t like apologizing, she didn’t want to admit the thought of being away from you any longer was the worse option

She was almost in the same exact situation almost five months ago. Only this time you were sad, and it was Wednesday’s job to make you feel better (in more ways than one)

It didn’t take long getting to your dorm. She knew all of the correct routes and shortcuts to take. Wednesday was met with a tightly locked door and a knob that had collected dust after the past week and a half. She brought a hand to the door, knocking loudly

The Addams was only met with silence. That is, silence, with the exception of stray whines and whimpers

“It’s Wednesday.” Silence again.

“I know you’re in there. Ignore me and I’ll find other means to see you.” More silence

“You’ve made your decision.” The shorter girl sighs, taking a lock pick from her uniform pocket. Why she had a lock pick? For important situations like these, of course

When Wednesday finally managed to unlock your door, she noticed how you looked considerably worse than the first time the Addams decided to help you with your heat

What Wednesday didn’t expect was you fully naked sprawled on your bed. Bite marks littered your bed frame and a chew toy Wednesday bought to mock you, but it ended up being somewhat helpful. A low quality fan spun, only making your scent waft around the room even more. An air freshener was mentally added to her list of things to buy

“Go away, Wednesday.” You growled. You never growled. “If you’re here to mock me and call me a nuisance, I’d recommend you leave”

“I came to help.”

“You’ve full of bullshit, aren’t you?”

“I’m not lying, Y/n.”

“Go away, Wednesday, I’m not going to say it again.” The Addams only took this as an invitation to step closer to your bed where you were laying face down and a light blanket to cover your ass

When you only heard footsteps near, something inside you snapped. You were a werewolf. Not a puppy that said please with a tail between your legs. No, you would make Wednesday leave. Also you were sexually frustrated while in heat, so that was definitely fuel to your sour mood

Before she could register what had happened, you pinned the smaller girl to the floor. Your pupils contracted into small circles while there was a permanent snarl on your face

“I said, go away.” Your erection accidentally brushes against Wednesday’s thigh, and she was suddenly aware of how much self control you had for not already relentlessly stuffing the shorter girl full of your cum

“Knot me, cucciola.”

When the words leave Wednesday’s mouth, something in you changes. You’re overcome with sinful thoughts, and your cock starts to drool with precum at the image of Wednesday being full of you. It’s sinful, truly

“Is that why you came here? Just to be bred?”

“No, but it seems my words are working. You’re incredibly hard.” The shorter girl grabs your erection, jerking you off roughly

“Puppy.”

“Don’t… don’t call me that.” You say in between moans. Wednesday starts to sit up, and your back meets the side of your bed frame

“Cucciola wants to breed?”

“F-Fuck you.”

“We’re getting there, mi sol” The pet name accidentally slips, but you’re far too blissed out to notice

“She can’t make you feel as good as me, can she?”

“W-What? Who are you talking about?”

“You know who. The vampire that can’t get her hands off you.”

“Wednesday, we’re no-“ The shorter girl only started to stroke you faster. Her hand barely fit around your cock, but it still felt like heaven

“I don’t- I don’t like her that way” You say in between moans. Your orgasm was nearing and Wednesday knew this. She slowed down her pace, and you whined at the sudden loss of stimulation

“Knot me.”

“Huh?”

“Show me you don’t like her the way you like me.” You only notice your proximity after she speaks. Your noses are only inches apart. Wednesday’s eyes flick down to your lips, and you quickly close the distance

Wednesday was an addiction. Nicotine, acid, weed, none of it compared to how you felt while kissing Wednesday. You’d get drunk off her taste and crave it until she was in your arms once again. It was hell without her

When the shorter girl accidentally grinds on you, a surge of lust runs through your body. You quickly pick her up with your lips still attached to hers and take off her skirt. You couldn’t go another second without being in Wednesday

Sinking her onto your hardened erection, you let out a gasp of pleasure when her velvety walls stretch at your intrusion. You’re holding up her body by her thighs, and Wednesday just wishes you’d go faster.

“Cucciolo, ti amo.” The Addams moans when she looks down to see she’s only taken half of your length in her pussy. The sight is rather lewd, Wednesday thinks. Your cock is absolutely dripping with pre-cum when you push yourself further in her

“Mierda. Más, cachorro. Tan bueno para mi.” Wednesday slips into her native tongue. You haven’t seen her like this any other time she’s… helped you out

Bringing your lips to hers again, you decide to be in control when you push your tongue into her mouth. Eyes half lidded, bangs sticking to her forehead, and hair a bit disheveled, you think she’s never been prettier.

You let Wednesday rest a bit before sinking your cock deeper into her cunt, and the Addams ends up scratching you hard enough small amounts blood start to drip down your back. The sensation takes you by surprise. Accidentally bucking your hips up further into Wednesday, the girl lets out a groan as she fully takes your length in her pussy.

Placing her on the bed, you notice a tiny bulge in her stomach. You decide to be bold. Pressing your thumb against the intrusion, you hear a sound you’ve never heard before

Wednesday whimpers at your touch.

You do it again.

Her cunt squeezes around your cock, making it harder for you to keep thrusting. But you’re a wolf in heat and Wednesday is incredibly horny, so you continue your movements.

“Sh-She’ll never- she’ll never be as good as you, Wens…” An unexpected growl comes from deep within your throat

“No one can take my cock as good as you…” You’re thrusting considerably faster when Wednesday looks back down at where you two meet. The scenario folding out is a sight for sore eyes, the Addams thinks. You, feeding into your primal urges like it’s an unstoppable beast; and Wednesday willingly taking it in however she can.

“Cara mia.”

“Mine… mine all mine. No one else but mine…” You whimper a little pathetically, but the girl below you is only focused on your thrusts. Her cold hands find their way to your back again, leaving a trail of blood behind

“Yours, puppy. All yours.” Wednesday feeds into your possessive behavior. She knows she shouldn’t, but with you thoughts of reason leave her head and are replaced with thoughts of you

“Were you serious about the knotting, Wens?”

“Deathly.”

“Are you- mph~ sure? It’s kinda big…” The girl under you looks down again, and your ever growing knot seems to just be getting bigger and bigger. Even horny out of your mind, you still wanted to make sure your mate was alright.

…you decide to ignore that thought.

Your eyes were trained on how your erection stretched out Wednesday. Her pussy would be yours, and yours alone. Nobody would make her feel as good as you did. You’d make sure she wouldn’t need anyone else’s cock but yours.

A breathy moan erupts from your throat when you start to actively try to push your knot into Wednesday

“Relax for me Wens, it’ll never go in unless you want it too” You feel her tensed under your touch, but your words are enough for her to relax

Every thrust you get closer, until you eventually start to reach your peak. You can tell Wednesday is too. Her hair is messy and both of your bodies are littered with marks of possession.

“I-I’m so close Wens…” Are the last words you say before succeeding in pushing your knot into the Addams girl. You cum inside of Wednesday’s pussy, and the swell of your knot inside her is enough for Wednesday to cum impaled on your cock. The feeling of being full is an experience Wednesday wished she did with you far sooner.

You wiggle your hips to seemingly get more comfortable inside of Wednesday, but the movement only makes her moan. She was sensitive as hell.

“…was that enough proof I like you more than I like her?”

“More than enough, (Y/n).”

[superhaught]

Sweetest Girl

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning(s): slight reference to bad home life for reader?

Word Count: 1700, Part 1/?

Anonymous Asked: hello! I was wondering if I could request a regina x fem!reader fic where the the reader is known as the sweetest girl in school that everyone loves and regina is like “what’s so great about her” and just ends up falling in love with her

Part Two

Regina knew that she wasn’t excelling in her chemistry course this year but she certainly didn’t think she was failing. But the teacher asked her to stay behind after class and gave her a solemn look as she explained that with Regina’s most recent test score (which was, admittedly, abysmal), her overall grade in the class would drop from barely passing to failing. 

“Well, what am I supposed to do? I’m a senior, it’s not like I can retake this class!” Regina griped, beginning to feel her stomach turn over in panic.

“Calm down, Miss George. You still have time to improve your grade. I’d recommend that you start working with a tutor. One of your classmates is available for such an arrangement as it turns out. She’s a very gifted student who is doing quite well in this class. She will likely tutor you not expecting anything at all in return. Are you willing to reach out to her?”

Regina crossed her arms in front of her chest, “I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”

Regina’s teacher formed a thin-lipped smile, “No, Miss George. You don’t.”

Regina took the slip of paper with the tutor’s contact info scribbled on it from the teacher and left the classroom for her locker in a huff. 

Gretchen and Karen were waiting for her and immediately, Gretchen was hounding the blonde in concern, “is everything okay, Regina? What did the teacher want?”

Regina sighed, “I’m failing. I need a tutor, I guess.”

“Oh no!!!” Gretchen exclaimed. 

Karen tapped into the conversation in a brief moment of focus and said, “don’t worry, Regina. I failed chemistry last year and had to be tutored, too.”

Regina rolled her eyes, “yes Karen, and you fucked your chemistry tutor instead of studying.”

Karen smiled, “oh yeah!”

Gretchen chimed in, “well, it’s going to be okay Regina. I bet you’ll do really well if someone can take their time to explain the concepts to you. Do you know who will tutor you?”

Regina nodded, “yeah, the teacher gave me this name. Someone in my class.” Regina passed the slip of paper to Gretchen. 

When the small brunette read the name she made an excited sound, “oh! I know her, she’s the sweetest ever! You’ll like her Regina. She’s like, the nicest girl in the school.”

Regina narrowed her eyes and snatched the paper back, “why would I like the nicest girl in school? She sounds like a try-hard… What makes her so great?”

-

You were enjoying your lunch outside in the courtyard because it was a sunny day out. You scrolled through your phone and an email notification caught your eye so you opened it right away. The email read: Hey, I need a chemistry tutor. Teacher gave me your name. Can you? -Regina George

Oh, wow. You thought. Regina George wants me to tutor her?

You typed your response back and sent it off with a whoosh: Hi Regina, I’m happy to help! Do you want to meet to go over logistics today after school? I’ll be in the library if you want to swing by :) you can also feel free to text me if that’s easier

You sent Regina your phone number at the end of the email and in a few minutes, you got a text from, presumably, Regina. She said, “okay whatever” then another few seconds passed and she sent another text, “this is Regina, obviously.”

You responded, “haha yes, I figured!”

The little bubble that indicated she was typing popped up for a long moment and then disappeared. Then it popped back up and turned into a simple text, “k.”

-

Later that same day, you were sitting in the library doing your homework in the welcome peace and quiet. As you were working, you saw the blonde out of the corner of your eye. 

Regina walked down the half staircase into the library and flipped her hair over her shoulder, her tote bag hung from the crook of her elbow, and her other hand held an iced latte notably not from the student-run cafe but instead from the Starbucks down the road from the school. 

Regina approached your table and plopped her bag down on the floor and pulled out the chair across from you, “went to get a coffee before meeting you, hope you don’t mind. You didn’t want anything did you?”

You smiled and shook your head, “I don’t mind, and no thank you, I’m okay. I don’t drink coffee.”

Regina raised an eyebrow as she sat down, “you don’t drink coffee? How do you survive?”

You laugh lightly, “I guess I’ve never really needed it, and I prefer tea anyway.”

“Huh…” Regina didn’t seem satisfied with your answer but she dropped it, “so, do you just stay here to do homework after school?”

“Usually, yeah! I like to get as much done as I can before the library closes.”

“Why would you want to spend more time in this godforsaken school?”

You swallowed hard, “Oh, um… just ‘cause.”

“Kay…”

“So, do you want to talk about tutoring for chemistry?”

“Sure.”

“Okay great, do you know how often you want to meet or how many hours you want to do per week?”

“Christ, I don’t know.”

“It’s okay!” You assured her, “let’s just start with two hours a week for now. We can meet twice a week for one hour each and see if that feels good or if we need to work more or drop down to just an hour.” 

“Alright.”

“Does this time work for you?”

“Yeah.”

“And what about another day in the week?” You asked.

Regina shrugged, “Thursdays?”

“Perfect!” You jotted down a note of the schedule in your planner.

“Do you tutor a lot?” Regina asked, then sipped her coffee.

“Not super often. When I do, it’s usually because a teacher recommended me.”

“Are you like a teachers pet or something?” 

“I don’t know, I just like helping.” 

Regina was silent for a moment. She was considering you. Examining you. 

“So for chemis-“ you began.

“You know, it’s like weird how nice you are. Like, it’s off putting.” 

“Oh… off putting?”

“Yeah, ya know. Like you don’t have to be nice all the time, or for free. Not everyone deserves kindness.” 

“I mean, I disagree, but-“ 

“I can pay you, you know. For tutoring me, I mean.” 

“You don’t have to, though. I don’t need you to.” 

Regina scoffed, “you’re just gonna give me your time and energy for nothing?” 

“Yes. I just want to help. It’s not transactional.” 

“Oh, you sweet thing. Everything is transactional. Maybe you don’t want my money but you expect to get something out of this, don’t you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t.” 

You were frustrated, “how do you know that? You don’t know me or what I’d do!” 

“No one does anything for free. No one performs a service for free. No one is that nice.” Regina took another drink of her coffee. 

“Are you trying to ruin this?” 

Regina raised an eyebrow again but was quick to respond, “am I making you mad?” 

“You’re frustrating me. I’m just trying to do a nice thing.” 

“So you don’t want me to question your motives?” 

“No! I mean…” you huffed angrily, you felt your cheeks grow increasingly red and hot, “there is no motive.” 

“I don’t believe that.” 

“Look, do you want my help or not?” 

“I want to be tutored. What I don’t want is to owe you anything.” 

“You don’t owe me anything!” 

Regina’s expression turned into the slightest smirk as she stood up from the table and grabbed her tote bag off the floor, “I’ll meet you again on Thursday to review this week’s course materials. When I see you again, I expect an answer about what exactly it is you hope to get out of doing this for me.” 

With that, Regina turned and left the library, her hair swishing behind her. 

You hadn’t noticed until then, but you had crumpled up a piece of paper in your hand during that conversation. 

-

Thursday came around too soon for your liking. You had no answer for Regina’s demand, other than the truth, which you didn’t want to tell her. 

At 4:05 pm sharp, Regina waltzed down the stairs into the library once again, tote bag in hand, removing her sunglasses in an elegant motion, a drink carrier from Starbucks with two drinks in her other hand. 

You watched as Regina gracefully spit her chewing gum into a trash can on her way while walking up to your table.

She took one of the cups out of the drink carrier and set it down in front of you, “chai latte. Is that okay?” 

Your jaw dropped open a bit as you stared stupidly at the drink and then back up at her, “y-yeah… that’s really nice, thank you.” 

Regina didn’t sit down, “do you have an answer for me?” 

You sighed, “you really won’t accept that I just want to help you out?” 

Regina wordlessly shook her head. 

You looked down at your hands and saw that they were shaking slightly, so you hid them under the table in your lap and kept your eyes averted from Regina as you whispered, “I do what I can to avoid spending time at home.” 

Regina remained silent. 

You looked back up at her. Her jaw was set and she had a severe expression. You watched her exhale a heavy breath through her nose, nostrils flaring, then she sat down across from you and dropped her bag onto the floor. 

“Okay,” she said simply. “Let’s get started then.” 

-

You spent the next hour reviewing that week's chemistry lessons with Regina. 

When you decided to stop for that evening, Regina reached across the table and wrote something into your notebook. 

“There, that’s my address. You don’t have to check in with me, or anything, you can just come over whenever you want to.”

“Regina, are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. My mom loves having company to entertain, and there’s plenty of space in my room for you to be comfortable and do work.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“How about, ‘thank you?’”

You laughed and nodded, “thank you, Regina. Really.”

The blonde stood up and returned her notes to her bag, “‘course. See ya tomorrow in class.”

“See you then…”

Next Chapter

[ghost-proofbaby]

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)

CHAPTER FOUR: CASTLES CRUMBLING

AND HERE I SIT ALONE, BEHIND WALLS OF REGRET. FALLING DOWN LIKE PROMISES I NEVER KEPT.

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, mentions of RUMORS of workplace sex scandal, minors dni

☆ WC: 5.4K+

☆ A/N: if you would like to listen to the song that eddie is recording at the end - it is an actual, real life song. :-) it is called "blood sport" by sleep token (one of my favorite bands i get to see live next week!!), and i highly recommend listening to it during your reading. especially the latter half of this chapter.

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

“Alright, so – anyone care to fill me in on what the Hell that was?” 

Matt stands like a disapproving father figure as the band lines up opposite of him just outside the building. Eddie had hoped nothing would be mentioned until they were in the car, but the driver was clearly running a few minutes late.

Three of the boys glance at each other, worried expressions immediately giving up the hoax even as Eddie only shrugs and says, “What do you mean?” 

“Cut the shit, Munson,” Matt had never appeared so livid, so undone by irritation. His usual patience with Eddie is nonexistent, “What’s going on between you and that girl? Is she a past groupie?”

The insinuation gets a scoff out of Gareth. Jeff side-eyes him in warning, but Eddie couldn’t care less, “No, she’s not a past groupie. This was the first time I’d ever-”

“Don’t lie to me,” Matt points an accusatory finger at Eddie, narrowing his eyes, “I am your manager. If you have any unsavory connections with that girl, I need to know so I can decide if we need someone else to organize the event. We are not having another repeat of the Lewinsky scandal.” 

“I knew it! I fucking knew you called it that, too!” Gareth cheers, but he’s quieted by one look from their furious manager.

The Lewinsky scandal had been their code-word for when the tabloids had become convinced that Eddie was fucking an assistant at the label. A girl had even come forward and claimed to have had sexual relations with Eddie, and he had taken heat for it for a full month before the buzzing novelty worn off.

Eddie had only spoken three words to the girl. No, thank you when she’d offered him a mug of coffee during a late night at the studio. He wishes now he’d been less polite. 

And he also finds himself wishing that’s all this was. He wishes you were just another scandal, another terrible rumor spread around. If all the accusations between you two were false, if all the hatred was based on misconstrued circumstances, it would be so much easier. He can talk himself out of that. He can confess to those sins and get off with no more than the order of one hail mary from Matt. 

But you? The reality of all that had happened, both all those years ago and just thirty minutes ago? He can’t find the words. They choke him up, unwilling to leave the cavern of his chest and enter the world, just like all the songs gathering dust as demos. 

“It’s not going to be another Lewinsky scandal,” Eddie scowls, feet shuffling against the concrete below him. Can’t be another Lewinsky scandal if she wants nothing to do with me anymore, “Maybe she just doesn’t like me. I am allegedly a very polarizing public figu-”

The car pulls up, and Matt is quick to grab Eddie’s shoulder before glaring at the boys, “Get in, I’m not finished with our polarizing public figure yet.” 

Grant and Gareth only let out low whistles, following instruction without lingering as they clamber into the back row of seats in the SUV. Jeff takes his time, though, going as far to pause beside Eddie and place a hand on his back.

“Just tell him the truth, Eds.” 

It’s the final nail in his coffin. Eddie is cursing Jeff’s retreating figure as he climbs into the vehicle and shuts the door, leaving him alone with Matt. 

“Explain,” Matt demands, “Now.” 

Eddie’s eyes focus on a gaping crack in the sidewalk, jagged and uneven, right down the center. 

He has two options. He could continue to lie, insist he knows nothing about you until Matt just gets bored of not being offered the truth. Or he could admit it all, reveal the muse behind the art he had been fiercely protecting over these last few months. Every line, every chord, every broken note that had left his lungs during those witching hours in the studio. 

On one hand, it’ll rip away the opportunity that has been offered to him on a silver platter – the opportunity for closure. Selfish, bloody closure that neither of you had gotten, it seemed. But on the other hand, it might grant him some sympathy. Matt, the label, the producers – they had all grown tired of the dance Eddie led them in every time they’d inquire about the music. But if Matt knew-

It’s a dead end trail of thought. He knows he won’t admit to the worst of his atrocities he’s committed. No scandal, no late night ending with him in handcuffs, no fraudulent headline is going to compare to what he did to you. What you did to him.

It’s a little too late for damage control, anyways.

“I went to high school with her,” the lie works well enough, easing some of Matt’s frustration, “I was just shocked to see her. All of us were shocked to see her. No big deal.” 

Eddie knows the people around him have come to learn that they must pick and choose the battles they engage in with him. And he can see that decision flash across Matt’s face as he decides that this is not a battle necessary to the war.

“Alright. But if you’re lying to me-“

“I’m not lying.”

“If you are, that’ll be one of my last straws, Munson.”

It won’t be. Eddie knows it won’t be. Everyone, every single goddamn person in this world it seems, is capable of giving Eddie Munson unlimited chances — except you. You, it seemed, were the only person who had come to their senses. 

You always were smarter than people gave you credit for.

—

“Run the track again.” 

They’d spent a few hours in the studio already. It was an odd hour for them to be haunting the space, more used to visiting in the dead of night rather than the middle of a weekday, but it was down to the wire now. Vocals needed to be recorded, instrumentals fine-tuned, tracks properly mastered. Eddie could no longer hide in the night when it came to recording the haunting melodies stained with the blood of his past — no matter how wrong it felt to see a sliver of sunlight breaking through one of the windows, just through the top of the blackout curtains.

“I really think that was the one, man-“ the producer starts, probably just tired after repeatedly running in circles with Eddie’s perfectionism.

He doesn’t care. He’s paying them, they can stand to let him re-record as many times as necessary to satisfy Eddie, “Run it again.” 

The silence only continues to buzz in Eddie’s headphones. He’s ready to cuss out the producer as he angrily shoves them down, off his ears and hanging loosely around his neck, the wire a leash as he whips to face the one-way glass wall. The lights are off at the main board, guaranteeing that they can see Eddie but Eddie can’t see them.

Until suddenly, the light comes back on, and the reason for the absence of the repeated track Eddie had requested becomes obvious.

Gareth.

He stands at the center of it all, a few paces from the seated producer with a deep scowl on his face. 

“What the fuck?” Eddie says, mouth just close enough to the mic for them to catch his overflowing annoyance, “I said-“

“We heard what you said, Eddie,” Gareth interrupts, his voice just loud enough to be faintly heard even as the headphones curl around the nape of Eddie’s neck, “But I need to talk to you.” 

It’s the strictest tone that Gareth has used on their lead singer in an unfathomably measure of time. Probably because it’s the most words he’s said to Eddie in a very long time, as well.

Eddie finally removes the headphones, hanging them carelessly on the mic stand and moving towards the door — surprisingly, without putting up a resistance.

The control room is warmer than the fairly large area that served as a ‘booth’. Smaller, as well. Cramped with a low couch and one too many chairs available to trip over, the control board spanses the entire wall that holds the oversized window into the recording room. A plethora of small lights twinkle like stars, and numerous switches that Eddie had come to know better than the back of his hand alternate positions to guarantee the clearest sound. Only Gareth and the producer occupy the room, the rest of the band having taken off around the fifth time Eddie had requested a redo of his vocal tracking.

“This better be good,” Eddie complains, furrowing his brows, agitated at the interruption. 

But Gareth shows no remorse, “We need to talk.” 

“Yeah, you said that already.”

“We need to talk,” Gareth repeats, eyes flickering to the poor soul still seated at the controls, “Alone.” 

Eddie hardly has to open his mouth, the man jumping out of his seat the moment the lead singer flicks his wrist to signal for him to leave.

Whatever Gareth was about to say had to be important, and it’s that thought rather than the difference in temperatures that has sweat building on Eddie’s brows.

Is he about to quit the band? Is he about to tell me he’s had enough? Maybe he’s done with my bullshit — I would be.

“Speak, Emerson,” Eddie flatly insists, grabbing a small water bottle out of one of the mini fridges in the room before he throws himself onto the worn leather of the couch, “And make it quick. We’re on a time limit, you kno-“

“We’ve gotta talk about her, man.” 

Her as in you. 

For a moment, Gareth sounds like a friend again. He’s dropped all the persistent perturbation he’s taken to defending himself with when it comes to  Eddie, his voice pleading as he stands before the distant man. All the rueful power plays that had developed over the last year vanish. It’s just Eddie and Gareth, bandmates who started out in the latter’s garage in some small Indiana town. Not Eddie Munson, infamous rockstar with a chip on his shoulder. Not Gareth Emerson, passionate drummer overshadowed by the ego of his lead singer. Just Eddie and Gareth.

 “We all know you didn’t tell Matt the truth.” 

“I did tell him the truth-“ 

“Not the whole truth, then. There’s no way he’d let it slide if he knew that she was your ex-girlfriend.” 

The defiance vacates Eddie’s body quickly. He doesn’t even attempt to prowl his mind for a quick quip in response. All he does at the words is drop his shoulders, the defeat creeping up on him as he deflates. 

Ex-girlfriend. The title feels so pitiful to truly describe what you were to him. 

But to be fair, even when he had been in your good graces, girlfriend had also never felt significant enough.

“Did-“ Gareth starts after a beat of silence, noting the way Eddie couldn’t quite hide his wounds on the topic, “What did you guys talk about? When you went after her, what did she say?” 

“Nothing important.”

Eddie turns into a shell, a zombie as he stares straight ahead and tries to compartmentalize. That always worked; with meetings, with arguments, with lectures. Even before the fame, it worked.

It doesn’t work quite as quickly when it comes to you. His brain, it seems, is incapable of uncrossing all the wires you twist within his brain.

“You two were alone for, what, ten minutes? And you’re telling me she didn’t say anything important?” 

“What the fuck is there to say?” Eddie laughs soullessly, “Oh, hey, stranger! Remember me? The guy you up and left without a word?” 

“Yes!” Gareth shouts unexpectedly, “Yes, that’s exactly what you should have done! She left. Not just you, but all of us. We never even really knew why. And now- what? Are we just supposed to pretend we don’t know her?” 

Eddie knew why. She’d never had to say it, and that was the issue. He always thought about all the answers he swore he craved, and always let every question he claimed to have haunt him during the waking hours. But when the day turned to night, when he was left to nothing but his own devices in a dark and empty apartment during the witching hours, he knew. The question of why had been answered since the first phone call cut short with you during that goddamn tour.

The songs knew, too. He supposes it had been an arrogant assumption to believe the band had read into his lyrics and put the pieces together. 

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Eddie nearly whispers, throat tightening and fighting him on the words. It’s the opposite of what he wants and needs — but it’s what you want and what you need. And so he plays the messenger, even as it kills him, “We are going to completely disregard my past with her. We are going to treat this entire situation as professionally as possible. I’m talking the full nine yards: you will not mention the fact that we know her, you will not question her about anything from the past, and you will not, under any circumstances, ask her why.” 

His own set of rules he’d privately set for himself in his own mind during the car ride over. 

Gareth squints his eyes in disbelief, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Are you serious?”

“Deathly so.”

“This isn’t just about your past with her,” the boy nearly passes, starts to reach up to tug on his hair before he thinks better of it, “This is about the way she left all of us. Not just you. She was a friend to all of us. She was the one who taught me how to tape my drums when I’d bust a hole in them, she was the one who helped us design our first merch, she was the only person any of us would let be in the room during practices. And not just the band stuff, either,” Eddie watches tears form in Gareth’s eyes, “She was the only one who had the patience to help me with my fucking math homework back in school, man. She was the one who nearly curb stomped Jason Carver the week he sent Grant home with a black eye. She was the first person Jeff called when his parents broke news of their divorce, for fucks sake. Not me, not you, not any of us — her,” Gareth’s breaths come out as pants as he stops his pacing and stands before Eddie. The tears continue to lace his bottom lash line as he heaved silently at the end of his rant, his pained expression completely unexpected to Eddie. 

This is the part Eddie chooses to forget. He’ll let himself swim in the memory of you late at night, he’ll indulge in vices that always amplify his pain rather than succeeding in his attempt to numb it, he’ll stare down the mirror each morning and curse the reflection he finds with all the blame in the world he is capable of holding in the palms of his hands. But in all the ruptures of his own old scars, he fails to consider that he is not the only one burdened with loss. 

They all lost you. When Eddie lost you, so did the band. You’d become a ghost to more than just your abandoned lover — you’d become a tired haunt to boys you’d known, boys you’d befriended and burrowed your way into the lives of, just as well. 

“She was our friend,” Gareth chokes out, fists curling at his sides, “Jesus Christ, I- I get it. She was everything to you. Whatever. But she meant a lot to the rest of us, too. Whatever happened wasn’t just some isolated event — you two didn’t just hurt each other. You set off whatever bomb erased her from our lives, but it left the rest of us with some damage, too. Don’t forget that.” 

This is the part where Eddie should apologize. This is the part where, once upon a blissful time, he would have said his repentance. 

He doesn’t.

“I don’t care how hurt anyone is,” he lowly responds, eyes unable to meet Gareth’s any longer, “I’ve told you the rules, we’re going to follow them. End of discussion.” 

Gareth throws back his head, and Eddie winces at his scoff, “She’s not your fucking property, Eddie! She isn’t solely yours to keep or whatever the fuck you think you’re doing!” 

Eddie can’t even deny the action of keeping you. All the demos, all the songs laid to the grave because he couldn’t stomach the thought of releasing them for others to experience. 

But that’s not what this was. This, the cataclysm that was sending Gareth to finally release all this pent up frustration, was him following your rules. You’d made your wishes for this project very clear, and he needed to at least try to respect them. They all did. 

So he takes on the role of the bad guy. He lets them paint him as the villain if it means no red will stain your ledger. 

“Oh, I think she’s made it very clear that she isn’t mine,” the mask slips on far too easily for Eddie. Cool demeanor, compartmentalizing. Not you, but his emotions towards his friends, if he could even still call them that. His bandmates that he had once seen as brothers. “Doesn’t change what I said. Don’t push it, Emerson, or there’ll be Hell to pay.” 

“What are you going to do? Disappear on us?” Eddie finally looks back up to meet Gareth’s fiery gaze as he spits out hateful words, “Hate to break it to you, but you already left this band behind two years ago. And if you ask me, you should start leaving the vanishing act to her. At least she doesn’t make us pay for her mistakes.” 

Eddie is by no means done with the conversation, more than willing to continue fighting with Gareth, but the other boy clearly feels differently. He leaves his words hanging in the air as he spins away, storming out of the door, the air in the studio now several degrees hotter now with the irate fuel of the fight.  

It was all a blood sport. All of it. It didn’t matter if Eddie was fighting with the band, the management, with you. It was all bloody and fruitless, and it all left him the same awful type of hollow in the end. 

He stares blankly at the wall as he makes a silent decision.

By the time the producer has timidly returned to the room, Eddie has already set up his laptop to connect to the studio's system, prepped so that any recording would automatically copy into his personal hard drive. A way for him to listen and ruminate in the privacy of his own apartment. 

The sheet music torn from his notebook already lays at the table besides the entrance to the booth. 

“Do you… want to run the track again?” the man, the stranger, asks. He clearly heard the fight. Eddie and Gareth hadn’t been exactly quiet in their screaming match. At least, Gareth hadn’t been. 

Is it really a screaming match if only one side fights back? 

“I want to lay a new track,” Eddie’s voice is deadpan as he clicks a few buttons, finalizing everything. He only needs the man to click record, “A raw piano and vocal demo. We can add the rest of the band later.” 

“I-“

One look from Eddie, hardly passed over his shoulder with a glimmer of unbridled determination, and the man quiets as he takes his seat. 

Eddie storms into the booth without another word, fist curled around the page of lyrics and terribly hand-drawn music clefts. 

She isn’t yours to keep.

Eddie was aware of that. Painfully, painfully aware. But it had never been about his claim to you. 

Gareth was right. Eddie never wanted to own you. Keeping you, however, had been something he should have taken more care with.

The chill of the small room to record in does little to lessen the flames eating Eddie up as he bypasses the assembly of various instruments all crowded in the space. Gareth’s drum set, Jeff’s guitar, Grant’s bass — he storms right past them, eyes locked on the grand piano in the fair corner. It took up the most space, far too large to have been forced to be contained within this compact room. 

Eddie drags the mic from where it had been stationed previously with him, quickly and recklessly resetting it at the piano. 

Once he’s seated on the bench, crumpled pages thrown up onto the music desk of the piano and headphones snug over his ears again, the producer finally clicks on his mic to speak.

“Hey, uh… Does this demo have a name by chance? Or do you just want to label it as an unknown for now?”

It certainly does have a name.

“Blood Sport,” Eddie spits out. “Just name the file Blood Sport.” 

The hum that would indicate to Eddie when those on the other side of that glass window were speaking clicks off, and he takes it as his cue.

He’d written the song a while before. There were some gaps in the lyrics, some notes he’d played with on his personal piano scribbled over and never replaced. He’d never played it in its entirety before. 

It starts slow. His fingers hold the ivory keys delicately, arranging for the first opening notes as if he were slotting his knuckles against your own for the first time over again.

She isn’t yours to solely keep. 

Were you ever his to keep, ever? 

Even the ivory keys of the Steinway are more solid than you ever were. You were nothing more than water, than blood, destined to slip between Eddie’s fingers. He never stood a chance in having you, in holding you, in keeping you. 

Not just now, but before all the blood shed, as well. He should have recognized Cassandra’s curse the first day he looked into your eyes. He should have known the twist in his stomach was only Fate sinking its claws into the two of you. 

A tale fit for a Shakespearean stage — a tragedy always meant to be.

“I want to roll the numbers, I want to feel my stars align again.” 

Eddie’s voice is soft to match the steady beat of piano notes that emit from the crooked curl of his hand against the keys. A soft thump, a gentle lull. And instead of losing himself in the music, he finds himself wrapped up in one of the many memories he’d chosen to lock away for the last two years.

Something was off. 

Eddie’s stomach had twisted with anxiety of something being wrong for weeks. You stopped answering his calls, his texts, every form of connection with him. But as he stood in front of the door to your shared apartment, the bile rose even higher in his throat. 

He smelt the decay of what he had done before his key had even entered the lock. 

“Would you invite me again? Won’t you pay for your arrogance? Won’t you show me your weakness?” 

You were never his to keep. 

His voice nearly cracks as he approaches the first chorus, not finding the strength behind the vocals he’d always envisioned for the song.

The click of the door opening echoed through the apartment. It felt empty the moment he’d crossed the threshold – you could have just been tucked away in the bedroom, or even in the bathroom, but he knew. 

You hadn’t been returning his phone calls. You hadn’t been returning his texts. He knew something had happened, something had changed. Irreversible damage had been done, and he would now have to face the mess he’d created to return home to. 

“I made loving you a blood sport.” 

He repeats the line until it rings in his head, over and over. Until he swears the words could crack his bones, and the stars that will show in the night sky will do nothing but mock him for the self-inflicted pain.

At first, he convinced himself you just weren’t home. You’d gone to the store or to see friends. You’d be home soon enough and then, the two of you could scream at each other all you wanted. You were angry with him, rightfully so, but he’d rather you yell and scrap with him than the alternative. He didn’t care. Because he was here, back in the flesh and willing to take any and all cruel words you had sharpened for him. The two of you would fight, yes, but at least that meant there was still something there worth fighting for.

After the first three hours, he realized with a sinking stomach that the alternative might just be his reality. 

“I want to be forgiven.” 

He recalls the look on your face when you’d first seen him today. The fall of your act, the discarding of grace and composure.

The look that told him that he can want all he’s capable of. He can want, he can crave, he can yearn, he can tear himself apart bit by bit with his feeble yet shattering cravings — it won’t change a thing. 

You were never his to keep.

After the clock struck the fifth hour of his return, he started his calling.

Over and over and over, he was met with your voicemail. Endless messages spoken and sent alike. Every single one trying to be gentle as they inquired where you were. Letting you know he was back. Going as far as to ask you if the two of you could talk. 

He wanted to fight. He wanted to fight, because it meant you still saw something worthy within him.  

But even more than Eddie wanted a fight, he wanted you to come home. He wanted you to be there, to welcome him into your safety and remind him he was human again. It was selfish – he was so goddamn selfish – but he needed to feel your skin against his and remind him that he was still a person beneath it all. Beneath the demand, beneath the unwarranted adoration from strangers, beneath all the fractures the sudden traction had left him with – he was still a breathing, living person. He was still your person. 

Eddie’s fingers begin to slam against the keys with increasing urgency as his chest heaves out with every syllable. Repeating, and repeating, and repeating the chorus as if it changes a single thing. He loses himself in it all; in the music ringing in his ears and the memories now drowning him as he confesses all his sins to the microphone. 

You never came home. 

There was no fight, and after the hours reached double digits right along with his ignored phone calls, he had to accept the truth.

You weren’t just at a friend’s, or the store. You were gone. Truly, truly gone.

The drawers once filled with your belongings were vacant. The smell of your perfume was nothing more than a whisper across the pillows. Eddie scoured the entire apartment for signs of you, turning every single piece of furniture over looking for clues. He never thought to check the counter until he’d already ruined the space, terrorizing it in a frenzy before his eyes landed on the letter and the key.

He had approached them both hesitantly. All his denial drained from his body, like the blood pumping through his veins, as his fingers pinched that silver key so gingerly.

A past he can never return to. A home he will never hold the key to again. 

The joints of his fingers ache and his lungs begin to burn for all that he lost — all that they all lost — because of him. His  own foolishness, his own downfall. He did this. 

The aftermath is blurry.

He read the first few words of your letter before promptly crumbling it with his tortured fist, knowing exactly what it said without needing to fully swallow all the words just yet.

He never fully read the letter. He skimmed it, a week later, but not that night. 

Then came the flashes of the pain. The way he’d swung his fists at air and menial objects alike. A vase holding wilted carnations met its demise on the kitchen floor, a hole in the wall appeared that he later had to patch up, one of the coffee tables ended up across the living room with a leg splintered half off. 

He never dropped the key. 

Even as he dropped to his knees in the center of the broken glass, bleeding shins to match his bruising knuckles, he still held that small piece of silver fiercely. He pressed it so tightly, dug it so deeply into his palm that it later left a scar. And not even the way he had grabbed at the broken glass surrounding him had the capability to mar it away as he let it slice his skin, crying out, hopeless and devastated. 

You were gone. He had lost you, and he had been arrogant enough to never even notice it.

“You say it doesn’t matter.” 

The headphones had long since slipped off his head, and he makes no move to adjust them. He hadn’t even noticed that his body had begun to fall forward and curl into the piano until he’s weakly choking out the final lyric that he hadn’t even written down onto the page. 

He hadn’t noticed the tears falling, either.

What were meant to be gasps for air as his fingers fly across the keys in a haunting melody are only sobs. Cries of pain as he no longer can see mere inches ahead of him, a scar of the center of his palm stinging as if brand new, his heart and head pounding in sync. He isn’t even sure if the producer he’s forgotten the name of is still recording. He lets the sobs slip out as he continues to play. 

He can’t quite end the song yet. The moment he does, he’s terrified of the version of him that he will have to face once more. All those surface blemishes from the beginning of the end had run deeper beneath his skin. He was nothing more than rubble and fractures now, splintered every which way until he had become unrecognizable. When he looked in the mirror, all he could see was a creature of destruction.

“You set off whatever bomb erased her from our lives, but it left the rest of us with some damage, too. Don’t forget that,” Gareth’s voice echoes in the silence beginning to gather between the notes.

Another wrecked sob leaves Eddie as he finally finishes off the melody, playing entirely unaffected up until that point. Reality crashes down. His body shakes, shoulders hunched as his forehead connects against the freezing wood of the piano and he pinches his eyes shut tightly enough to be left in total blackness. 

He couldn’t play another note if his life depended upon it.

The memory fades with the final note before his head rattles with a new image. The smile, the grimace, you had offered him before you two parted ways today. An effort at professionalism that Eddie had seen right through. 

Pain. That’s what had twitched in the corners of your mouth. The same pain, if not worse, as the one that now radiated through every atom of Eddie’s broken figure on the piano bench. 

He can’t fix it. Not your pain, not Gareth’s pain, not his own pain. The time for damage control, for sincere apologies and any reconciliation has passed. Just like watered-down blood through his fingertips. 

Eddie hopes that the producer has had half the mind to stop the recording when he stands and slams the drumset behind him into the wall. Destructive, just as he had been the night he returned to an empty apartment. Just as he had been when he’d been the one to rot and wither away all that you two had once held between you. 

They can replace the drum set. Surely, he has a person for that. 

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[rhaenzokla]

Meet-Cute

Yuuji and Megumi x Reader (separately)

Summary: How you first meet them!

CW: yuuji is nervous so Nobara helps!, Gojo makes reader a bit uncomfortable in Megumi’s! (Can do a pt2 if anyone wants)

Yuuji Itadori

Yuuji had been pulled into the mall, along side Megumi by Nobara.

“This place is so big! I sure you two can find something to buy. You two losers don’t know the benefits of retail therapy and it shows!” She jabs them in their sides as she makes a b-line for Pink.

Megumi grumbles under his breath as he starts making his way downstairs, most likely trying to find anywhere they wouldn’t end up. Hoping for some peace and quiet.

Yuuji follows Nobara in, not paying attention to the other side of the store, Victoria Secret.

His eyes go wide and his face heats up as he walks behind Nobara, trying to find anywhere to look that he wouldn’t feel like a perv anymore.

“Kugisaki! Why did you drag me in here with all of this stuff?” He whisper yells, to which she chuckles.

“I dragged you in the mall, but I did not make you come in here.” She hold up a blue lacy set and a red satin set. “Which do you think would look better?” She asked Yuuji, very much teasing the blushing boy.

Their conversation gets interrupted when a worker makes her way into the conversation. “With your complexion, I’d go with the blue if you’re set on one of those two. If not, I’d recommend one of our purple sets.” You say with a smile, just wanting to help.

Kugisaki listens and takes your advice, looking over the purple collection while Yuuji stands in place, staring without meaning to.

“Is your boyfriend okay? He looks like he saw a ghost.” You ask the kind girl and she scoffs. “Him? Me? You’re kidding, right? Not in a million years! Haha!” You’re taken slightly aback by her statement.

Okay, if they’re not together, but why the immediate disgust? You couldn’t lie, he was cute. With his bubblegum hair and his rosy cheeks that seemed to be accentuated with symmetrical scars under his eyes.

“Oh, sorry for the confusion! I just assumed since most of the time it’s the boyfriends coming in with girlfriends. Especially since you asked for his advice.” You chuckle and blush yourself this time, rubbing the back of your neck.

“We’re just friends. He’s a bit overwhelmed so I was just teasing him to get him to calm down. I think I’ll grab this one! Thank you for your help.” She smiles.

“That’s no problem. If you’ll follow me, I can get you ringed up myself!” You start towards the register but pause as you realise the two stopped following you and started talking.

You can’t hear what they’re saying but you can tell that she’s trying to convince her friend of something and he’s not so sure. A few moment later and they’re both at your register.

“That’ll be $47.98.” You say with a smile. She pulls out her wallet with a small piece of paper and writes something down. Handing you her card and the paper.

You ring her up as you’ll see what else you’ve been handed when you have free time. “He was too embarrassed to give it to you himself. Have a good day!”

You chuckle and look over at the young man next to her. “That’s my line, but you too! Hope to see you again!” They walk out and only then do you sneak a peak at the paper.

The not-so-boyfriend’s number

XXX-XXX-XXXX

Oh, you’re definitely texting him when you get off.

Megumi Fushiguro

Gojo had busted into Megumi’s room that morning to ask (beg) for him to go with him to go shopping for the other teachers at JJT.

Megumi declined his offer but decided it would be easier to just go with him than to listen to him whine about it all day, or worse, all week.

So here they are, pulling into the parking lot of the closest Bath and Body Works. “They have a massive sale right now! We can knock out all the women now!”

Megumi rolls his eyes at his mentor as he makes his way in. A warm “welcome in” travels to his ears as he enters. Combinations of the smells is a bit overwhelming for Megumi at first.

He starts looking around for his mentor as he realised he no longer behind him like he anticipated. Megumi finds him speaking with a young woman wearing an apron.

“What would you recommend for adult women?” Gojo asks the employee as Megumi walks up behind him. He reads your name tags before looking up at your face.

His cheeks run hot for a moment, heart beating just a bit quicker.

What is this?

“That depends on if you’re looking for something more floral, sugary, or fresh! My personal favourite, that I’m wearing now is Rose. It was discontinued a few months back but it’s now part of our limited time spring collection!” You give the white haired man a warm smile before looking behind him. “Do you need some help too, sir?”

He steamers for a moment. “N-no. Just looking with him.” He hums and rubs the back of his neck.

You nod and start leading them to the scents you’d recommend for each scent type.

“So uh… you have a boyfriend?” The white haired man asked, taking you aback.

“Uhm… no. No I don’t. Why do you ask?” You look to him cautiously.

“Oh c’mon, can’t you see that made her uncomfortable, Gojo? Leave her be. Why do you need to know her love life anyways?” Megumi asked, defending you when he saw the uncomfortableness in your eyes.

“It’s okay. Thank you,” you leave the end open for him to give you his name.

“Fushiguro” he curls his lips slightly and looks down to the floor.

“Fush-“ you’re cut off by the man named Gojo.

“Megumi here is also single, and I was just thinking maybe you could exchange number or something. He could use some more friends.”

Megumis face turns beat red and he starts to say something when you chuckle loudly.

“Sorry! It’s just that I don’t have many friends either. I’d love to exchange numbers if you’re up for it. I work a lot so we might not be able to meet up a lot, but I’m the friend you share your life story with anyway-“ you chuckle as you print a blank receipt, writing your number down.

“I get off at 7 tonight, by the way.” You smile and send them on their way to check out, smiling once again as they go to leave, giving him one final “have a good evening” as they leave.

©️RhaenZokla

Hope you enjoyed!

Thank you for reading!

[dodorimo]

WIP Wednesday

Theater director!Raphael x Tav

He's supposed to be kinda creepy here, so yeah, this is a warning.

· · ──────  ❊  ────── · ·

It is a disaster, a travesty.

He wonders. When Tacitus beheld the charred remains of his beloved Rome, did he feel a similar way?

Chorus girls look to each other for guidance while lead actors traipse over the stage, painfully off-key. He has seen high school productions with more verve than this one.

That he has to share a room with such insipid talent. It is truly heartbreaking.

With a weary sigh, his eyes survey the stage for the weak link, and that’s where he finds her. A girl in the back row, looking a little lost and scared out of her mind.

“Dear God, who does casting these days?” he laments to no one in particular, crossing his legs on the leather seat.

“You do, sir.”

Raphael turns to look at the man beside him, taking in his ill-fitting suit and old-fashioned glasses. Poor fellow. He has neither the knack nor the grip for the job. And the syndicate thought sending this boy would keep him on his toes?

“Oh, I didn’t audition this one or I’d remember her.” There’s a pause while he mulls over his thoughts. “Tell me, Jameson,” he says and ignores when the other man voices a correction. “Why is she here?”

“The girl has promise,” comes the curt response. “She was highly recommended.”

The vague answer does nothing to placate his quickly dampening mood. “Recommended by who? Her parents? Her elementary teacher, perhaps?”

A few cleaning women choose this moment to walk past their seats, prompting the man to lower his voice. “The Royal, sir.”

Raphael reclines back in his seat. There we have it.

What these newcomers fail to understand is that admission to a fancy college isn’t nearly enough accolades for his standards. He didn’t build his reputation by bowing down to paper-pushers and sycophants. In this theater, he dictates the rules. In this theater, he is king.

With a wave of his hand and a few scathing words, he orders the session to be dismissed, much to the relief of those present.

“May I suggest a break instead?”

“You did well today, Johnson. You may take the rest of the day off,” he replies, his tone final.

The man opens his mouth to protest, but turns to leave the room instead. The buzz of conversation slowly dwindles as cast and crew head backstage. They turn off the lights on their way out, leaving the theater in semi-penumbra.

Despite his predisposition for pomp and extravagance, Raphael always thought he worked better on a smaller stage.

“Not you.” He points to the girl tailgating the group. “I’d like to have a word.”

The girl stops in her tracks, a thousand emotions flashing across her face, before settling on fear.

While he waits for her to come around, he pulls two chairs and rearranges them facing each other in the middle of the stage, right below where the headlights shine brightest. The girl moves to sit on one of the chairs, shaking like a foal standing on its hind legs for the first time.

“Fear not. This will only take a moment,” he says, his smile deceptively warm—a skill honed after many years in the business.

She is a pretty little thing, this new choir girl. But then, again, most choir girls are. If her theater career falls to pieces, he can imagine a profession or two where she would excel at. 

“What do you say we start from the beginning of act two?” he suggests, tone amicable as to not alarm her further.

The girl scrambles to flip through the pages of the script, her eyes skimming over the words in rapid succession.

This won’t do. An easier question, then.

“What is your name, dear?”

“River, sir. My name is River.”

“My man told me you came from the capital. Do you like it there?”

“I like it very much, yes.” The small talk seems to calm her enough to allow her to find the right page. What she finds there, however, does not please her in the slightest.

“Sir, this is a scene for two…” she trails off, eyes fearful.

“Make the best of it. Improvise. I can play the part of your would-be lover if you wish.” The abrasive approach isn’t to his liking. Unfortunately for this girl, he is short on patience.

If he had any hope that under the veneer of the ingénue might hide a true thespian spirit, it vanishes the moment she utters the first line.

He stands up and paces aimlessly around the stage. The girl stares at him, dumbfounded.

“You have been on the run. This man, this stranger, offers you solace and a roof above your head. He is charming and not too hard on the eyes. You feel indebted to him. You’re young, naive and you’ve never been properly courted.”

The deviation from the script wouldn’t pose an issue. He is the author, after all, and the play, a successful piece from his earlier career. “Updated” for modern audiences. The word alone is enough to make him grit his teeth. None of his plays needed “updating”. Younger audiences can take their grievances back to their food-stained couches. They had no respect for the classics.

His little summary provokes the intended reaction. He sees the pieces falling into place in her mind.

“Harlequin…” she tries again, this time with more passion. And is that the hint of tears he sees in her eyes? “I've never met anyone like you. If only I could repay you in kind.”

“Good, good… much better.” He returns to his seat.

“Say the word and my body will be yours.” She leans forward, exposing just enough of her cleavage for his eager eyes. It’s a bold move, but not unwelcome. His fingers twitch on his lap. This little dove may surprise him still.

Raphael recites the words that have become second nature to him. “Columbina. I’d rather you not return to your old ways. If you choose to lie with me, it must be of your own free will.” If his voice sounded more condescending than the play requires, it’s just an act of improvisation on his part.

He points to the script in her hand. It’s the cue for her musical number.

If the girl clearly struggled with the finer nuances of the text before, here she needs no assistance. Hers is a voice of singular beauty, the likes of which emerge once in a generation. He suddenly understood why James was so hellbent on bringing her here. It wasn’t just the charming Harlequin who was finding himself enthralled.

When it’s done, he takes off his glasses without saying a word and puts them carefully in his pocket.

“Oh dear, this is…” Beautiful, stupendous, awe-inspiring, his mind supplies. “A little crude, if you don’t mind my directness.”

The girl looks positively devastated, her lips quivering as if about to cry.

“But even the roughest of rocks can be polished into a beautiful piece of jewelry. Isn’t this what they say? Meet me at my office after tomorrow’s rehearsal. I expect you to be well acquainted with the text by then.”

“Thank you, sir. I won’t disappoint you.”

“Call me Raphael.”

“Raphael…” Her voice rings like angelic bells to his ears. “Until tomorrow.”

[onigiriico]

Mahiru audio drama (t2) - English TL

[ links: Spotify / Youtube ]

Another voice drama, another translation! 🎉 As always, if you’ve got any questions, find a mistranslated line, etc etc, feel free to head to my ask box (recommended) or my Twitter and I’ll do my best to get back to you! (Also definitely do listen to the drama if you get around to it because the VAs do an incredibly good job)

⬇️ translation under the cut ⬇️

(door opens)

E: …!

M: It’s been a while, Es-kun.

E: Mahiru…

M: I missed you…

E: …Are you okay?

M: Ah… yeah. I’m able to move around on my own as long as I have this wheelchair, so…

E: Shidou told me about your condition.

M: Ah… mh. Is that so…

E: I didn’t think you’d be in a state for me to interrogate you.

M: It’s all thanks to Shidou-san. Ah… I think I should thank Milgram as well. For supplying us with the medical tools and the wheelchair and all that. I wonder if you’re the right person to say this to?

E: …

M: Why do you look so sad…?

E: Because… you suffered such major injuries…

M: … Ah, but this is… I think Kotoko-chan is the one who did it, so… you know? It’s not like it’s your fault. Um, so…! I’m not holding a grudge towards Kotoko-chan either. I’m sure she just thought it couldn’t be helped…

E: That’s…

M: Ah, no, um… I do wish we could put an end to this though… ahaha… ack–

E: Mahiru–?

M: Sorry… for making you worry. I’m fine! It doesn’t hurt at all.

E: It’s a horrible injury. There’s no way it doesn’t hurt.

M: It doesn’t!

E: Don’t lie to me! Let’s call Shidou right now–

M: I mean it. It doesn’t hurt. Compared to the way I felt when you didn’t forgive me… Not at all.

E: …!

M: Not at all… Nothing. None of it hurts. It’s not… as big of a deal. Ever since, I’ve always been hearing… voices saying I couldn’t be forgiven. Yours? Whose? I don’t know… I don’t know, but… I heard them the whole time.

E: Mahiru, calm down…

M: Was what I did such a bad thing? I just… had a normal relationship like everyone else…! That’s all I did! Why can that not be forgiven? Hey, why? Why? Why?

E: Mahiru!

M: Stop it!

E: …!

M: … Ah– I– I—I’m sorry…! If– If you touch me so suddenly, it makes me remember… how it hurt… and I get scared…

E: It’s fine. If you don’t talk, that’s fine too. Let’s just take it slow.

M: …Yeah… S-sorry… It’s– it’s not that I hate you or anything, you know?

E: Take a deep breath. It’s okay.

M: Uh… (deep breaths) I’m fine already...

E: Mahiru…

M: Hey, Es-kun? I was wondering why you didn’t forgive me… I’d like to hear the reason… straight from you.

E: From me…?

M: Yeah. I already said this before, but all I did was love someone. I don’t know what kind of footage Milgram presented to you, but… did it not look like that to you? What did you see? What… did you feel?

E: What I saw was… just you having fun. I’m sure you were in love. Your feelings of bliss were conveyed to me as well.

M: Right? It was really fun. Did it make you want to fall in love?

E: No clue about that.

M: You’re so cold. – So, how… does that connect to me not being forgiven…?

E: It’s true that the footage looked happy. But by selecting [you], Milgram is telling me that you’re a murderer. I can’t just take things at face value. What Milgram shows to me is each person’s mental imagery. It’s not like it supplies me with certainty or objective facts.

M: Umm… 

E: What’s wrong?

M: I’m not that smart, so could you put it in a way that’s easier to understand…?

E: (deep breath) There’s the possibility that you’re just framing the truth in a way that’s convenient for yourself. Meaning that it was only a happy relationship… in your own mind.

M: …!

E: …So, that’s what I deduced. So…

M: That’s… Aha. That’s a shock… This means that… you think of me as a liar, doesn’t it…? Did I do anything that made you think that?

E: …I’m the Warden. I get that this is painful for you, but I’m telling you my own thoughts.

M: Yeah… let me hear them.

E: I said that your love has killed someone, right?

M: That’s true.

E: Actions taken out of one-sided love, such as stalking… Someone dying as a result of something like that is a possibility, too.

M: …! Haha… That’s horrible…

E: Yeah. It is.

M: It’s not like you saw what I actually did, right?

E: Yeah. Not straight-forward, anyway.

M: Right…

E: Anyway, Milgram follows a three-trial system. This isn’t the final result. It’s only what I’ve seen up until now.

M: Yeah. – Him and I… we loved each other. Properly as boyfriend and girlfriend. We met in college… It was the first time for me, so I don’t know if it was good or not, but… I think we were just normally going out together. I thought it was fate. He said it was, too.

E: Is that so…

M: I’m not… a stalker or anything like that. Although from your point of view, it might seem that way.

E: Yeah.

M: But I’ve made up my mind. I’ll properly convey my feelings too. He’s dead. It… it might have been because of my love.

E: Mahiru…

M: But… I just normally loved someone. I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong. And besides, I… can’t live without love.

E: Why would you go that far…?

M: Because I know how precious it is to be in love. The moment you love someone, you realize the beauty of the world as it changes. To not forgive me means to take the act of loving away from me. That’s the same as not being alive. It’s the same as not being able to drink water or breathe. So… if this love isn’t allowed, then I don’t mind dying. Kotoko-chan’s acts aren’t a problem, either. I think she’s fighting for her own cause as well. So I don’t blame her. Because I also think that I… that my love isn’t wrong. I don’t want to be shamed for my love.

E: …

M: No matter what you think, it won’t change things for me. That’s what I’ve decided.

E: …I’m stunned.

M: Eh?

E: You’re impressive, you know. Without any flattery. I think you’re impressive.

M: Are you praising me?

E: I might be. To not resent anyone in this kind of situation, staying strong and even emphasizing with others… How can you do something like that?

M: Hehe… This is the power of… lo… ve…

E: Mahiru?!

M: I… I might’ve… gotten ahead of myself…

E: Your feelings have reached me, loud and clear. I’ll judge you in the second trial as well. 

M: That’s… good… (pained noises)

E: …I’m sorry. I’m responsible for the fact that you’ve ended up like this.

M: (coughing, heavy breathing)

E: It was my decision not to forgive you. I don’t intend to deny that. But… the fact that I couldn’t predict Kotoko’s actions was a failure on my end. 

M: (heavy breathing)

E: If I had known that it would turn out like this…

M: If you had known that it would turn out like this, you wouldn’t have forgiven Kotoko-chan?

(machinery whirrs, bell rings)

E: …Huh?

M: If you had known that Kotoko-chan would attack bad people, and you looked at her crime – would your willingness to forgive and your judgment have been changed?

E: …

M: This is the result of you doing what you believed in, isn’t it? The result of you working hard at your job?

E: Yeah.

M: Do you remember? Back in the first trial, I said I liked people who work hard.

E: Yeah… You did say that.

M: Because I told you that I like people who work hard… I’ll accept this pain, too.

E: …Ma–!

M: That’s why… no matter what the people around you might say, I think you should do what you want.

E: You’re– You’re the one… telling me that?

M: Yeah. Es-kun, you’re working so hard… You’re doing great.

E: …!

M: …Oh my… are you crying? Es-kun…

E: I’m not!

M: You’re putting up a tough front.

E: No way. – The talking ends here. Show me the continuation, Mahiru. In order for me to respond to your feelings, too.

M: Okay. It may be a bit late to say this, but… I’ll be in your care.

E: Prisoner no.6, Mahiru – sing your sins.

[jessicaloons]

Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

Chapter 4

Masterlist - Previous - Next

The Heartbreak Prince

November 2022:

"So it’s possible?" Charles asked his lawyer who nodded.

"It’s a lot of paperwork, but that’s what you pay me for, right?" she laughed and Charles looked at the ultrasound in his hand "I can start to set up all the documents as soon as possible or you want to take some time to think about it? Let it all go through your head once more? Or twice? More? You still have time… the baby won’t be born until April next year, so we can wait with the final decision…"

"No. Prepare everything… can you maybe talk to her? If she has a lawyer, and if not, maybe recommend one? I don’t want her to feel… I don’t want her to feel like it’s me against her and she is defenseless. If she has a lawyer of her own by her side, she’s not alone…"

"Of course Charles. I’ll talk to her, explain everything to her and then we figure things out. One step at the time."

"Thank you…" Charles smiled and got up, guiding his lawyer to the door "Let me know if you need anything from me."

"Will do, I’ll stay in touch. Have a nice day, Charles. And good luck for your race." she left his apartment and he sighed, leaning against the door.

His mind was racing, he had to leave for the airport in not even 2 hours, but he knew he first had to talk to someone. He couldn’t keep it a secret, the guilt would eat away at him. Back in his bedroom he threw everything haphazardly into his suitcase, calling Joris.

"Hey Joris, pick me up at my mums place…" Charles slipped on his shoes, checking that he had everything important in his backpack.

"Okay? Everything alright?"

"Yeah… I just-… I’m keeping the baby and have to tell my mum now…" Charles blurted out and the line went silent "Jo?" he asked after a minute of silence "Are you still there?"

"Yeah-… I just… umm-… I have to wrap my head around what you just said? You and Alessia are keeping the baby?" Joris asked cautiously.

"No. I am. She wants nothing to do with the baby… or me. She made that clear…" the Ferrari driver sighed, slipping into his sneakers.

"And what prompted this change of heart?"

"I saw it, Jo. And its heartbeat… in that moment I realised I would never forgive myself if I would give away my child. My firstborn. I can’t do it… that’s a piece of me. And I’m going to take care of it…" he left his apartment, waiting for the elevator.

"Okay. So Alessia will have the baby and then leave it with you and she’ll disappear? Not be a part in its life like you planned to? And you keep it? Take care of it, while travelling the whole world, racing in F1?"

"That’s exactly what’s happening, I mean… if Maman won’t kill me if I tell her now…" Charles put his suitcase in his car and got in, starting the engine.

"Good luck with that… maybe you’ll die today so thinking about the future won’t be necessary…" his best friend chuckled and under different circumstances Charles would’ve laughed too, but he knew that there was some truth in Joris’ words and when he stood in front of his childhood home 10 minutes later, ringing the doorbell with shaky hands, he wished he could’ve been anywhere else in the world but here.

"Charles! I didn’t think I’d see you before you leave. What a lovely surprise." his mother kissed his cheeks, pulling him inside "Arthur and Lorenzo are here as well…"

"They are?" Charles swallowed hard.

Maybe it was easier to say it only once, then 3 times to each one individually he thought, when he stepped into the living room where his brothers already sat.

"I thought we meet at the airport?" Lorenzo, his older brother asked, looking slightly confused.

"Umm- yeah, I just- I had to talk to mum first… and I guess now that you’re here, I’ll tell you as well…" Charles voice wavered and his brothers shared some glances before they looked at him.

"Is everything alright?" Arthur, his youngest brother asked right as their mother came back with some coffee and biscuits on a tray, putting it on the coffee table, already on her way back to the kitchen.

"Maman? Can you umm-… can you sit down, please? I need to talk to you… all of you." Charles voice was raspy and he cleared his throat, looking at his mother "Please. There is something… there is something you all need to know."

His mother looked worried, and as soon as she sat down between his brothers he pulled out the ultrasound picture, taking a deep breath. He felt his anxiety reaching its peek. The guilt settling in, in what a mess he had catapulted not only himself, but also everyone who was close to him. But he made his decision and now he had to own up to it. He took a deep breath, calming himself down.

"A couple of weeks ago I made a mistake. I did something stupid, reckless. But after crashing out at Paul Ricard I just wanted to forget. I drank a lot. And ended up in a girls bed… Charlotte and I weren’t dating anymore, we broke up almost a month earlier, we just kept it private, I asked her too, because I wanted to focus on driving and not on the gossip accounts speculating about my private life… that girl- she’s pregnant. With my child. And we had a deal, that she would get the baby and then we give it up for adoption to find it a good home… But I saw it. I saw my child. I heard its heartbeat and I can’t do it anymore. I can’t give it away. So I decided to keep it. Alessia, the mother, she wants nothing to do with it. Us. She doesn’t want a child. And that’s okay. But I have to do this. This is my child. My responsibility." he didn’t make any breaks, let it all out in one go and then put down the ultrasound picture in front of his family, all 3 looking at it wide eyed "This is a part of me…"

Silence. Complete silence. He couldn’t even hear them breathe. Charles looked at his brothers, the shock evident in their faces, then at his mother, an unreadable expression on her face. She picked up the picture, looking at it closely.

"Maman?" Charles almost whispered as his mother looked up from the picture in her hand "I’m so sorry! I swear it was an accident but I have to do this. I can’t just abandon my child… please understand me. Please… please don’t be mad at me…"

"You’re going to be a father?" was all she said and Charles nodded slowly, watching her getting off the sofa, slowly approaching him.

"Don’t be mad at me…" Charles breathed out again, feeling the tears stinging in his eyes, he held his breath when his mother stopped in front of him, looking him in the eyes.

When she raised her hand he almost expected her to slap him, closing his eyes, preparing for the impact. But the slap never came, instead he flinched slightly when she cupped his cheek, wiping away the tears that had escaped.

"I raised you right…" she whispered and Charles opened his eyes looking at her "Taking responsibility. You’re a good man…" she kissed his cheek, pulling him into a tight hug, her own heart almost shattering, hearing her son’s relieved sob "Seems like I’m becoming a grandmother then…"

"Yeah… you are…" Charles replied, feeling the tension and pressure falling off his shoulders. Relief flooding him.

"It’s going to be okay. We’re all here for you. We are all on your side." his mother whispered and Charles knew that with his mother’s love and support, he could do this right.

He could become the father his child deserved. A father like he had.

December 2022:

Annoyed. Indifferent. Disinterested. That would be the words Charles would use to describe the girl in front of him. The past weeks he tried to reason with her. Tried to talk her into co-parenthood. He wasn’t trying to force her, he just wanted to give her all the options. But as soon as he mentioned that he talked to his lawyer she asked for one herself. She made it clear that she didn’t want to have their child. Time and time again. Until Charles didn’t ask anymore. He accepted it. But what he didn’t have to accept was that the young girl sat at home. Alone. At all times. Only going out for short walks. Only texting with her best friend and brother. Talking to her parents from time to time. She needed to get out. Be around other people. And so he made a decision. It was a couple of days before Christmas when the driver sat in his second apartment in Monaco. The mother of his child on the sofa, he in the arm chair next to it.

"Thanks, but no thanks." Alessia rolled her eyes, not even looking at him.

"But why? It would do you some good, getting out of here, being surrounded by people, have a little Christmas dinner?"

"No. I don’t want to be surrounded by people. What do you even mean? We had a deal. No one knows about this. Who did you tell about it?"

"My mother and brothers, that’s who I meant. Joris could come as well. It will be f-…"

"I don’t want to play family, don’t you get it? I don’t want to meet your family, who all probably have the same stupid puppy eyes, looking at me, trying to make me rethink my choice… I don’t need that. As soon as I pressed this baby out it’s yours. Yours alone. I still don’t get why you would do that, it’s stupid. All alone. A demanding career. Having a child is just stupid for you, but that’s your decision. Your problem. I won’t be here to see the outcome of it all. I won’t see what happens to that child." her voice was cold.

Annoyed. Indifferent. Disinterested. Always the same.

"I just don’t want you to be all alone… it’s Christmas for fucks sake!" Charles groaned and for the first time in weeks there was a tiny hint of a smile on the girls face.

"Listen Charles. I really appreciate it. I do. All the little snack bags you leave on the doormat, all the delicious food you send over. You treat me right. You do, really. And now this. It’s really thoughtful. But I don’t want to meet your family. I want to be alone. Here. It’s my first Christmas without my parents. Let me have it the way I want it. Okay?" her voice was softer and Charles slowly nodded.

"But can I at least bring you some of the food? My mum is an amazing cook and you’ll love it. And you need to eat for two… so…"

"I would love to have some Christmas food…" Alessia smiled.

"Alright. I get you some plates fetched then…" Charles got up and made his way to the door, and when he passed the sofa the brunette grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently.

"Thank you. And-… merry Christmas…" she whispered and Charles took her hand in his, smiling at her.

"Merry Christmas to you too…"

Bahrain 2023:

Charles was nervously fidgeting with the many bracelets on his wrist, more than usually and his media assistant, Mia, put her hand on his.

"Okay, what’s going on?" she looked at him intently "The last weeks you’ve been more nervous than ever? Even at the end of last season you were super fidgety… what’s going on?"

He ran his hand through his hair, looking everywhere but the blonde woman in from of him. He had prepared a speech, thought long about how to explain what was going on, but he wasn’t sure if he had the courage to say it, so he shook his head, swallowing hard.

"Charles! I know you for more than 6 years now! I know that something’s going on, so come on. What did you do?"

"Why do you think that I did something?" he sounded offended and Mia chuckled a little.

"Because you look guilty. As if you have to confess something… so, confess…"

"Can you- umm is it possible to have Fred and Silvia here as well?" Charles almost whispered, saying it once would be hard enough, he didn’t want to repeat it a second time.

"Yeah? Sure… I text Silvia…. but now I’m really getting nervous…" Mia took out her phone, typing away, her eyes darting between her screen and the driver in front of her. After a few minutes of texting back and forth she nodded slowly, looking at Charles "They wait for us at Fred’s office…"

"Now?" Charles eyes widened.

"Of course now? Come on…" Mia got up and Charles followed her.

With every step they got closer to Fred’s office the young drivers anxiety got worse. Right in front of the door he stopped, taking a long, deep breath. Then he looked at the blonde and nodded. Mia knocked on the door and after a moment she opened it, Fred and Silvia looking at them, confusion written all over their faces.

"Charles. Mia. Come on in." the team principal got up, pointing to the sofa in the corner "So, Charles, Mia said you wanted to talk to us. To us all." he continued as soon as the driver and his media assistant both sat on the sofa, Silvia and himself on the armchairs in front.

"Yeah… umm-… there is something I have to tell you. It’s- it’s complicated. Something happened and I had to make a decision… and… well that decision, that umm-… it wasn’t easy, you know? Then again, it kinda was? I had to do it I guess?" Charles rambled, the speech he had so thoroughly planned out gone the moment he had opened his mouth.

"He really did it? He really approached you?" Fred mumbled, making the driver look at him confused "I mean- I do understand you, last year was crucial and Mattia missed out on establishing you as the clear number one when it was needed, when you were leading so clearly. But I hoped you would give me a chance, you know? Show you that I have a clear vision of your future in the team…"

"What?" Charles had no idea what he was talking about, he looked at Silvia, her usual scowl and pointed look gone, replaced by genuine sadness, then he looked at Mia, eyes wide.

"Christian approached you and I’m sure whatever he offered was more than generous, after all, he wants you in his team next to Max for years now… I’m really sorry that you lost all trust in our team after last season, but I understand. You want to be world champion and after being let down far too many times, you had to do what feels right for you… you signed for Red Bull next season." Fred’s voice was laced with pain, guilt. The sadness in his face visible, but when Charles looked at him and started laughing, it turned into confusion with a hint of anger "I don’t know what’s so funny about that…"

"I’m sorry. Really… just… give me a moment…" he wiped away a tear, taking a few deep breaths to compose himself, a grin still on his lips when he cleared his throat "I didn’t sign with Red Bull. And no one officially approached me. Was I asked, more in a joking way, yeah, but nothing serious…"

"You- you didn’t sign with Red Bull?" Fred repeated and Charles nodded "Oh- well… umm okay… good. Really good… then, well, say what you wanted to say."

"Yeah…" Charles sighed and closed his eyes for a brief moment, then he took a deep breath "I’m going to be a father… in around two months… it wasn’t planned. I’m not in a relationship with the mother and as soon as the child is born, I’ll have the sole custody and the mother is out of the picture. Forever."

Silence.

Big eyes.

Confusion.

"That wasn’t what I expected…" Silvia the first to break the silence.

"Now you wish I would’ve signed for Red Bull…" Charles halfheartedly joked, making Silvia’s eyes shot up at him "That wouldn’t be as much of a PR-nightmare for-…"

"Is it really your child? Did you make a paternity test?" she asked.

"We did… it’s mine. That night was a mistake, but the outcome is not. It’s my child."

"This conversation will never leave this room…" Silvia shook her head "You would be swarmed by the media. The Heartbreak Prince a single dad? Which of his short term lovers did he knock up? No. You and your child would never have any kind of peace for a long time. That’s not how a child should grow up! No one else in the team must know it as well. They are all too talkative. Someone would spill the beans accidentally. This is our secret. Understood?"

"Silvia, I think that’s Charles decision-…" Mia began but he shook his head.

"No. She’s right. It’s the best for us. The best for my child…"

"Okay. Umm- then… congratulations, I guess?" Fred got up, pulling Charles out of his seat, hugging him.

"Thanks." he mumbled and when his team principal let go of him, the two women did the same.

"You don’t want to know why I’ll be raising my child alone? Why the mother-…"

"No. You have your reasons. That’s all we need to know." Fred replied and Charles nodded slowly "So in 2 months? Around… Baku?"

"Will you take a break? Or what’s your plan?" Mia asked.

"I continue, like before. My mum and brothers will help me. I will spend as much time as possible at home during the races, so please, don’t make me attend too many sponsor events. Just the really important and necessary ones." Charles looked at Silvia who nodded.

"That can be arranged, Carlos can take over. And for the rest… we’ll figure it out. One step at the time." she said writing something down in her notebook, Mia and Fred nodding in agreement.

"We find a way to make this work."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it." Charles meant what he said.

He felt relieved that his team was taking the news so well and were keen to help him with his new task at hand. Maybe he could make it. Have it all. His career and his child. Become a world champion and a father.

22 April 2023:

A new life began at 3:27 in the morning at the Princess Grace Hospital in Monaco. As Charles saw his daughter for the very first time he knew, he would do everything to protect her, no matter what.

"We’ll take her, clean her up and check her through. You can stay with your girlfriend." the nurse told him and he pressed out a smile.

Girlfriend. No, she wasn’t his girlfriend. She was the mother of his daughter. Not more. Not less. The mother who wished to leave the hospital as soon as possible. Leave her daughter behind and never look back although Charles had tried everything to make her change her mind. He took one last deep breath before he knocked on the door.

"Come in." after he heard the faint voice he opened the door and walked inside.

"She’s healthy. They’re cleaning her up and checking her through and then bringing her back down…" Charles said, looking at the exhausted girl "It’s not too late, Alessia. You can still-…"

"No. I told you I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to hold it. I don’t want it, Charles." Alessia groaned and he nodded "Are the lawyers here?"

"They’re outside."

"Bring them in. I want this to be over. Once and for all." she said and Charles nodded again, walking outside.

"You can come in." he said to the awaiting lawyers who followed him back into the room.

"Let’s get this over with." the new mother said looking expectantly at her lawyer.

"Right, as discussed, Miss Bonetti will hand over the sole custody of the child to Mr. Leclerc. He will be recorded as father on the birth certificate. The child will have Mr. Leclerc’s last name." the lawyer said, looking at his client who nodded.

"Further, as Miss Bonetti stated she wants nothing to do with the child, we’ve prepared a NDA for your client to sign." Charles lawyer said, looking at the girl and her lawyer "My client will sign one as well, agreeing to never contact or mention Miss Bonetti. No one will know that the child is hers."

"What’s a NDA?" Alessia asked.

"A nondisclosure agreement. With signing it, you’re not allowed to talk about this whole situation with anyone. You can’t mention that you had a child." her lawyer explained.

"We’ve gone a step further with our demands."

"A step further? This wasn’t discussed beforehand!"

"Your client asked for a compensation. Mr. Leclerc paid for all medical bills, accommodation over the past 7 months, living expenses, maternity clothing, everything. Your client still demands a compensation for her inconvenience of being pregnant. Therefore my client agreed to pay the compensation, but on our terms."

"What terms?" the girl asked and looked at the Ferrari driver.

"You said you don’t want her. You want nothing to do with her. You want to be out of here and never look back. You want me to keep quiet about you being her mother. I gave you many chances to change your mind, you declined. You want to walk out of her life. Fine. But then you walk out forever. I want you to agree that you also never contact me, us, mention me or her and most importantly never tell anybody about our night together. It never happened. You don’t want this. Then it never happened. You were never pregnant. You and I. We don’t know each other. Not in the past. Not now. Never in the future. Today will be the last time we ever see each other." Charles said, his voice wavering.

"This means, if you ever change your mind, you can’t reach out. You sign away your right to see your daughter ever again." her lawyer said looking at her "You might want to think about that again, you’re exhausted? Maybe too vulnerable to make this decision just yet."

The young mother sat up and leaned forward, taking the NDA together with the declaration of custody out of her lawyers hands and took the pen from the side table.

"Where do I sign?" she asked.

"Here. And here. And here. And on the last page." her lawyer showed her the dotted lines in the documents, all pre signed by Charles, who took the NDA from the girls lawyer looking at it.

"The notary will be here any minute. He will certify the documents and from then on, this all never happened."

Charles got up and looked outside, when it knocked, expecting the notary. But there stood the nurse from earlier, holding his little bundle of joy.

"How’s Mummy? She wants to hold her little sunshine?" she asked as Charles stepped out onto the hallway, closing the door behind him.

"No, she’s… she’s not her mother." he took the little girl in his arms, cradling her to his chest "I mean-… umm she is but… no. She has only me."

"Oh. Okay. Well, we umm… we’ll talk then to her, she needs to be fed in the next hour…" the nurse said and Charles looked at her.

"I have formula? She- she won’t breastfeed her."

"I talk to the moth-… I talk to Miss Alessia. She can pump the-… I’ll talk to her. Here. You can rest with your little one in here." she opened up the door across the hallway, switching the light on.

Charles followed her inside, sitting down in the armchair.

"One last thing. Newborn babys love skin to skin contact. She’s a little squirming around, that’ll help."

"Take my shirt off?" Charles asked and the nurse nodded, taking the little girl out of his arms and he did as told, before the nurse opened up the blanket, wrapped around the newborn.

"Here. Hold her like before, just on your bare skin. Lean back. And let her hear your heartbeat. I’ll be back with some milk. And something to eat and drink for the new dad, you look exhausted. My name is Claudia, if you need anything, push the button." Claudia smiled and left the room.

He closed his eyes for a moment, his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. He was a father now. A 25 year old single father, whose job it was to race around the world.

"Charles? It’s done. All documents are signed, the notary certified it all. They will bring Alessia to a different ward, she’ll stay here for 2 more days, so she can pump some more milk, then she’ll be discharged." his lawyer said, walking inside the quiet room.

"She will be gone? Forever? She has no right to ever contact me? Us? She’s only mine?" he asked.

"Yes. She signed away all her rights."

"How’s that even possible? She gave birth to her? She’s her child? How can she sign away everything?"

"I explained it to you. It works like at an adoption… she is her birth mother. Not more. Not less. By signing the NDA it’s like she never existed in your life. And vice versa."

"It’s just me and her?" Charles whispered, looking down at his most prized possession.

"It’s just you and her…" his lawyer nodded "In the coming days I’ll also take care of the hospital staff. It was only Claudia, the nurse, one of the doctors and the lady from administration, who filled out the birth certificate, who know that you’re involved in this. I’ll make them sign a NDA as well. No one will know about this unless you want to."

"Thank you, really. You thought of everything…" Charles mumbled, eyes trained on his daughter’s beautiful face.

"Yeah well, that’s my job… do you want me to call your mum? I’m sure she can’t wait to meet her granddaughter."

"Yeah… that would be good. Thanks." he still didn’t look up from his little angels face.

"Alright. The nurse will be back soon with a bottle for her." his lawyer was about to leave when Charles finally looked up at her.

"Is it enough? What I offered her? Will she be okay?" he almost felt guilty asking this question, like he paid the mother of his child to leave their life.

"You were more than generous, Charles. The amount of money you paid her is more than enough. She’ll be just fine." she smiled as she left.

He sighed and leaned back. In the quiet room, his precious daughter sleeping on his chest, he thought about his life almost a year ago, when he and his girlfriend of one year Charlotte broke up. It wasn’t like he didn’t love her. It was more like he didn’t love her enough, the way she deserved to be loved. She was a great girl. A good friend. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted an all consuming love. A love that made his heart beat faster, whenever he saw that special person. A love that made him crave for more and more. A love that would make him go crazy, in a good way. A love he knew would be his to hold dear and cherish for the rest of his days. That wasn’t Charlotte. And before her it wasn’t Marie. And before her it wasn’t Juliette. And before her it wasn’t Giada. The media didn’t call him the Heartbreak Prince for nothing. The Formula 1 driver who went through relationships like others went through their underwear. A messed up race and a drunk one night stand later, Charles knew they were right. But he also knew one thing for sure. This cycle was ending now. He had a daughter now. She would be his all consuming love. She would be the one he would hold dear and cherish for the rest of his days.

No more Heartbreak Prince.

Chapter 4 - Welcome on this planet, baby girl! Charles strikes me as the cutest girl dad 👉👈 I just had to make him one again 🙈

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!

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Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!

Taglist:

@glitterquadricorn @lottalove4evelyn @janeh22 @itsjustkhaos @mariclerc

[gucciwins]

i miss harry so much :(( could you write a little blurb for us to see what harry and y/n would be up to today? even if it’s only 300 words idc i just need some harry content🥹🫶

had no idea what I wanted to write or if you wanted to see a specific couple of mine but I do hope you enjoy this for now 🥺 love you

+

Autumn was his favorite season. 

He loved the cold, always being bundled up in a jumper. Gave him even more of a reason to visit his favorite coffee shop. It didn’t hurt he also got to see Y/N, the pretty barista who always drew a flower by his name. 

It’s actually where he was heading on this drizzly morning. He had finished his workout and thought he deserved a treat. To his surprise, Y/N wasn’t behind the counter waiting to greet him with a bright smile. Of course, he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up; he knows she has to get a day off. 

Harry goes to the counter and orders a black americano to match his mood and chocolate croissant. 

“Not big on flavor today?”

He turns around and finds Y/N looking up at him, having overhead his order. “Hi,” he greets in a fluttery breath. Y/N always recommended a drink, but it seemed he didn’t bother today. “Uh, I wasn’t sure what to get.” 

Y/N laughs, “I’m sorry if that’s on me.”

Harry is quick to shake his head. “A bit in the clouds today. Didn’t want to think too hard.” 

“Mhm…”

“Off today?” Harry asks, wanting to keep speaking with her.

“Yeah, I was in the neighborhood and wanted a coffee before continuing the day.” 

Harry smiles, “where are you headed, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

Y/N steps closer to him. “Oh, I’m headed to the park to do some reading. Nothing exciting.” 

He’s intrigued, though. He wants to ask her what book she’s reading? What is her favorite genre? If she had one, she’d recommend for him. Before he could ask any of those questions, she excused herself to grab her coffee, and Harry thought that was it. He’d go back to admiring her from afar. In came a crowd of people, and he seemed to lose sight of her and instead decided to wait for his coffee and go from there for his day. 

Harry looked around one more time in the buzzing cafe before walking out. He decided to turn right when he heard a yell of his name behind him.

It was Y/N.

She rushed over, her tote bag slipping off her shoulder. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” 

He shakes his head, assuring her it’s okay. 

Y/N brushes her hair back, a sign telling him she’s nervous. “Well, I was wondering if you wanted to walk with me. Only if you’re free,” she adds. 

Harry bites back his smile, knowing he might have never gained the courage to ask her out, but glad Y/N made the first move. “I’d love to join you.” 

It’s how they find themselves walking to the park and settling onto a dry bench as the morning drizzle seems to have passed. Harry could listen to Y/N talk all day. He learns she has lunch with her parents every Sunday and has a baby tabby named Gus, after her favorite romance character. She shares that while she loves making coffee, it’s a means to an end while she gets through university. Y/N has a year left and knows time will fly by after the holidays. She tells him that she loves jackets and can never go without one. She can also be very forgetful, meaning she’s gone through her fair of keys to her flat. Y/N switched it up on asking him questions, but they always seemed to go back to her, not that she minded. 

“Can I confess something?” Harry tells her after he returns from throwing away their coffee cups. 

Y/N beams at him, “course, Harry.” 

“Uh,” he thought it’d be easier to confess his feelings, but he felt his heart in his throat. “I think you’re amazing, and I’d love to take you on a date,” Harry breathes out.

Y/N feels her face flush at his confession. She places her hand on top of his and gives him a squeeze. “I’d love to go on a date. Though this felt like a date to me.”

Harry agrees but promises their second date will be even better. Y/N excuses herself after seeing the time after giving Harry her number. 

“Don’t make me wait for a text, Harry.”

“Call you tonight? We can plan out our date.” He offers. 

Y/N nods, “sounds perfect.” 

She walks away but pauses a few steps away as if she is debating something because he can ask her if something’s wrong. Y/N walks back over to Harry and places her lips on his cheek. It was a short kiss, but he could feel her lips' softness. Y/N pulls back with a sheepish smile, laughing as she sees Harry’s face turn red. 

“I’ll see you, Harry.”

“Bye, Y/N,” he breathed out, locked in a trance. 

It’d seemed this Autumn would forever hold a special place in his heart. 

[razorblade180]

Safe Bet

[Swarm Disaster V]

Qingque:I heard you like to gamble?

Aventurine:You could call it the spice of my life. Let me guess, you’re betting I will do well?

Qingque:Oh that’s way too simple. We will have no healer.

Aventurine:…What?

Qingque:I tend to try to take things easy but after numerous failures here it’s only natural to form plans. I’m not betting on you doing well, I’m wagering your ability to protect us long enough for us to gather blessing I need plus curios.

Aventurine:And how long to you typically last in here?

Silver Wolf: The first elite. Sometimes we make it.

Sparkle:If we get resonance. Though your fellow gambler over here has gotten much more reliable since our last attempt.

Aventurine:..Alright. Let’s do it. Should be fun. Let’s see what’s about curio option number one!

Nullify attacks

QASS: (Oh shit this might actually be the run…)

Floor 2

Aventurine:Little lady, is there any reason why you refuse to keep a shield?

Silver Wolf: It’s not my fault these enemies understand who the real threat is. I’m alive aren’t I? Good job, but I recommend investing in speed.

Aventurine:Learn to take a hit.

Qingque:Don’t sweat it guys. It’s time for the easier part. *presses downloader*

Acheron:Hey. Oh, it’s you.

Aventurine:I think that’s my line. To think I’d get your aid in a place like this.

Acheron:I’m just here to cut through the fodder and potentially give you a chance to win it big. Consider me your guide.

Aventurine:We’re bound to get lost then.

Acheron:Heh, then I guess you’ll be getting enough blessings. Stay close.

xxxxx

Knight of beauty appears

Aventurine:Well would you look at that!

Sparkle:Okay, so I typically don’t care how far these runs go, but if you somehow ruin this I’m actually going to be disappointed.

Aventurine:Oh you know a situation is dire if I have a Fool acting serious. I was already planning on proving my value anyway.

Floor 3

Silver Wolf: Well it’s be real everyone. Don’t really need me for that oversized bug. It’s got every weakness you need.

Sparkle:What an interesting way of saying “I am a liability.”

Silver Wolf:It’s simple strategy. We didn’t come all this way to gain nothing. I’ll just cheer from the bench. Qingque, don’t miss your crits. *

Qingque:I literally can’t.

Silver Wolf:And don’t eat too many points. *leaves*

Qingque:…No promise. *hits downloader*

Ruan Mei: Shall we begin?

Aventurine:All this talent and you needed my help?

Ruan Mei:Have you ever felt the wind shear of a Swarm Disaster? Some people say it’s like a personal hurricane on your body.

Qingque:I’m “some people”

xxxxxx

20+ Propagation blessings. Various Curios, interplays achieved, and additional blessings gained. Danger level Eight

Swarm buzzing violently

Qingque:I’m gonna be honest guys, I don’t know if I’m trembling because I’m nervous, or because this is about to be pretty spectacular. Aventurine, if you would? *holds out tiles*

Aventurine:Heh, you really want all the luck possible huh? Alright then, strut yourself.

He leans over to his left and gently blows on the pieces.

“Let’s play a game!” Qingque tosses them into the air and twirls as metamorphosis begins; catching the pieces as they fell. Without stopping, she throws out a four of kind then immediately flicks her wrist like a slite of hand trick to reveal another set of tiles to throw.

The experienced gambler watches the girl pass the tiles between her hands twice before throwing another eight, killing a bug and keeping the pace by tossing a new set once before suddenly slamming down a tile that shakes everything and hands her another four of a kind she quickly turned into eight. It’s still her turn. Gambling is partly a numbers game, and Qingque has clearly crunched them.

Aventurine:(Oh shit…)

Sparkle:Wooooo! Don’t stop the fireworks!

Three more tosses before another hit! No worries! Qingque happily took a single tile and beamed it another insect before slamming down another that caused it to explode. She tossed her set to a corner bug as she took another break turn to eat up all four points before hearing Sparkle laughing as she topped off the difference.

Qingque: Can’t stop won’t stop!

Another eight tiles exploded and knocked the main bug down briefly. Aventurine was thinking he didn’t need to be here, until it got back up and tore through the shield like paper. Without hesitation he let his wealth pour down like rain and redeployed a shield. He confidently scoffed, but Ruan Mei could see his hand twitch in his pocket.

Ruan Mei:Fear is a healthy way of understanding your current situation as well providing alertness. Are you alert?

Aventurine: Vividly. *stacks shield*

Ruan Mei:Welcome to the Swarm Disaster.

Qingque:You get a front row seat to VICTORY!

1,500,000

[spacelazarwolf]

I’m an Italian ger who’s being converted in an Ashkenazi community. I want to connect to my culture so badly!!! Is there any books you’d recommend, Italki food you love, or special rituals you do on Shabbat / during the week that are influenced by being Italian? I’d love to introduce more into my own practice!!

yeah! also this ended up being probably more in depth than you were asking for so apologies lmao.

so for some context (in case you or anyone reading this is not already aware), italki jews are a specific group of jews within italy. italki isn't like a nationality, so it's not a synonym for "italian jew", it's more like a regional identity. people from rome, naples, and venice are all italian, but they're also roman, neapolitan, and venetian. even if they move somewhere else, they'll likely still retain that regional identity. italy didn't become a unified republic until 1871, so culture and language and food varied a lot by region (which it still does), and that's true of jewish communities too, especially those that came from other places.

italki jews are jews who were brought to italy by the romans or traveled to rome to be merchants, and have been there since roman times. ashkenazi jews came during the middle ages, primarily settling in the north in places like venice. it's very worth noting that ashkenazim in italy, with the exception of one or two communities, have significantly different musical tradition, pronunciation, language, and food than other ashkenazi communities. sephardi jews came mostly after the expulsion from spain and portugal, though there were some living in sicily and southern italy.

with all that in mind, i'd definitely recommend doing some research into the demographics of the jewish community in the place you or your family is from. if you already live there, it should be much easier!

resources:

the jews in italy- their contribution to the development and diffusion of jewish heritage

cookbooks by edda servi machlin (she has several, but some are hard to find)

cucina ebraica

i highly recommend checking out torah.it. it's a fantastic archive of recordings and pdfs all about italian jewry. you will spend hours there and still have only scratched the surface.

rabbi barbara aiello also has a lot of different resources.

i highly recommend checking out the work of leo levi for research on italian jewish music. he spent years interviewing and recording chazzanut, scholars, and other community leaders and saved so many italian jewish melodies from complete extinction. (i believe all these recordings are uploaded to torah.it as well)

primo levi is another italian jew to research. he wrote many books that are available for purchase, including a memoir about his survival in auschwitz. there is also an institute in his name dedicated to the preservation, study, and celebration of italian judaism.

ensemble bet hagat put out an album of reimagined italian jewish music a few years ago and i believe they are also working on a second one. it is beautiful.

anyway that's probably enough nerding out, i can get to the more personal stuff and answering the actual questions you asked me now lmao.

right now, it's just me in my apartment so there's a lot of traditions i can't do, but if you have family or friends you can invite over, there are a lot of lovely traditions you can incorporate. i use a three branched candelabra for my shabbat candles. the middle candle is lit first and used to light the other two, as you would with hanukkah candles. if you have multiple people at your table, you can give them their own individual candles, in which case you will light the shamash (middle candle), pass it around the table for each person to light their individual candle, then the host will light the two other candles.

for food, i love making riso del sabato. it's a risotto dish with saffron and it is delicious. there's also a pumpkin ravioli in brown butter and sage sauce in cucina ebraica that is to die for.

[mischiefmanaged71]

can I request a grumpy x sunshine trope with tom bennett, where reader is the sunshine one and tom is the grumpy one? thank you so much! I adore your work to death ❤️

midnight rain

Summary: She was sunshine, he was midnight rain. 

Where the grumpy flirt next door meets sunshine who knows just how to deal with him.

A/N: Immediately went into the works! I love this trope! The way I immediately jumped right into this and finished it so quickly. The ideas write themselves xx  

Pairing: Tom Bennett x fem! Reader

Tom noticed her from the first glance. He recognised the lost look in her eyes as she scanned the street with confusion twisting her delicate features. He appreciated the beauty for a second, then his better judgement escaped him and he waved a hand to grab her attention.

“Lost?”

Her head flickered upward and he withheld a chuckle at the doe-eyed look. “What?”

“You lost? You’re wandering about, is all.” Tom noted with a hand, waving the cigarette in his hand as he leaned against the wall.

She felt her face flush, stepping toward the blonde. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I can find the post office?” 

“You’re about a block down.” he gestured to the right far end of the street. His right, that is.

“Thanks.” she smiled, shying away from his upturned smile.

“You new in town?” 

“What gave me away?”

His lips turned upward, “Well you don’t talk like you’re from here, for one.”

She mustered a sheepish smile at that, nodding her head. 

“Town’s pretty small. Everyone knows everyone. Besides, I’d remember you.”

A laugh escaped her mouth as she titled her head at the remark. “Should’ve seen that coming. Yeah, I’m actually looking for a place. New job, and all.”

“Where at?”

“St Mary’s hospital. I’m a nurse.”

He hummed, “Ah, so I know where to go if I ever get into trouble.”

“Is that a frequent thing?”

“Trouble follows me, it seems.” he mused, a puff of smoke falling from his lips. “At least that’s what I’ve heard.” 

“That’s not very nice.” she stated, catching as he raised his eyebrows at her. “Of people. To talk about you like that.”

He shrugged, a knowing look behind his eyes. “What if it’s true?”

“I like to think everyone has a reason for their actions. You can’t make assumptions about a person based on gossip.”

A puff released from his mouth as he regarded the curious woman, intrigued by her optimistic persona. “I suppose. And what do you think?”

“Far too early to assume anything.” she concluded, flickering to meet his eyes. Y/N raised her eyebrows. “What do they call you?”

“Well, I’ve been called many things.” he huffed, extending his hand.

She blinked before accepting the hand, her smaller one engulfed by his. His touch was warm and gentle as he grasped her hand and shook it. “Tom is what I prefer.”

And she smiled, giving her name in return as they forgot to let go.

***

It was a few weeks later when Y/N finally settled into the flat she was able to rent at an affordable price. On her day off, she decided to bake and share the sweets with her new neighbours next door, having seen the young woman living in the house. Making friends in a new place was always difficult, but the young lady looked around her age so it would hopefully be easier with a gesture.

She turned up to their doorstep, gift in hand and knocked gently on the door. Y/N teetered on her feet, anxiously awaiting an answer before the door opened. She wore a smile, expecting the young lady to open the door. To her better surprise, she met a pair of blue eye and that golden blonde hair. Her eyes widened slightly, heart skipping a beat at the proximity of her standing so close to the gentleman. She felt herself pause for a moment before she finally registered that he spoke.

“Hi.” she managed.

“Hello.” he wore that distinct smirk, his eyes creasing slightly. “Back again.”

“Yeah. I-I actually just moved in.” she gestured to the flat next door.

Tom leaned against the doorway. “We’re neighbours, are we? Was that intentional or?”

“No-coincidence. In fact, my uncle recommended it. He used to live ‘round here before he moved for work.”

Tom nodded, glancing at her hands. “What’s that?”

“Oh, I thought you and your family would appreciate some sweets.” she smiled, handing him the plate.

He glanced between her and the plate, inhaling the scent of the chocolate. “You didn’t need an excuse to drop by. You could’ve asked.”

“It wasn’t.” she replied. “I enjoy baking. Besides, I can’t eat it all myself anyway.”

He nodded, “What other sweet things do you do?”

“What do you mean?”

Tom chuckled, “I mean the whole sunshine act. You smile all the time, your nice, and you bake. Is that all the time or are you just sweet with me?”

Y/N furrowed her brows, staring at him. “I guess I’ve always been like this.”

She leaned closer, “And no, it’s not for you. I try to be kind to everyone. To treat people with kindness and receive it back.”

From the huff that escaped his mouth, she studied Tom closer. “What? You don’t believe that?”

“No, because people will screw you over. Every chance. Unless they want something, of course.”

“Not everything is fake. Some people are actually genuine.” she retorted. “Like how you helped me the other day, right?”

“Sure, but that’s not generally how people are.”

“Like how you try to act all suave and closed off?”

“I’m don’t try to put on anything.”

Y/N hummed, “Telling. What do you even do for fun around here?”

“There’s lots to do. I can show you.” he leaned closer. 

“And there it is again.” she mused, a smile on her face. She flushed under his stare, flickering away from his handsome smirk. “Do you ever smile or is that smirk permanent?”

His eyes softened, flickering from her eyes to her lips. “You're always blushing  all the time...it's almost cute."

"And are you really this smug 24/7?"

"Smug?" he scoffed, shaking his head. "I'm not smug.”

She smiled up at him, “No. You’re just grumpy.” 

“I’m not grumpy. Not everyone can smile that much. Well, maybe except for you."

She shrugged, "Guess not."

***

Tom had told her he was trouble from the first moment, and while she agreed to some degree that he was mischief incarnate. He had tendencies that meant he lived on impulsive decisions which got him into trouble sometimes, but he mostly meant well. He was a good person with certainly some misguided intentions when it came to priorities. 

Although, when it came to her, Tom was a grumpy blessing in disguise. He was a welcome sight at her doorstep after a long shift at the hospital, offering company and relief from her stress. He was always quick witted, managing to bring a smile to her tired self on any occasion, to which she was grateful. 

Over coming months, Tom and the Bennett family became a regular part of her life as she became accustomed to their own household. Douglas and Lois came to know her through her regular visits which turned into dinners- not to forget the drop in visits before or after work. While Tom didn’t have regular work, he certainly found himself busy with capturing Y/N’s attention when she wasn’t working at the hospital. Both his dad and sister were fine with the idea, given the young lady managed to keep him out of certain trouble with her around. She was always there with a kind smile that contrasted to Tom’s smug smirk and mischief. His dad had remarked that one morning, they were a sight together.

She was anxiously pacing their doorstep that morning when she had received no answer from the Bennett’s house. Of course, she supposed they could be out, but the entire family rarely left. Tom usually was round this time, and they had agreed last week to meet at the time. The figures in the distance brought her attention to the Bennetts, Tom leading the group. Relief filled her until she saw the grievance evident on Mr Bennett’s face. He and Lois greeted her politely, ushering inside, leaving her and Tom outside.

“What happened?” her hands rested on her waist.

“Police came round yesterday.” he replied, “Sorry ‘bout missing our plan.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine. What did you do?”

“What makes you think it was my fault?”

“I can easily ask your dad. He’s just inside.” she tilted her head to the door.

He blinked at her, glancing away as he sighed. “Fine. Something about the other night. I got into somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be.”

She shook her head. “Couldn’t find anything else to do while I’m at work?”

“Well, you take all the fun with you, I’m not left with many options.”

“You’ve got to stop this.” she met his blue eyes, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “How’d you get out anyway?”

A smirk grew on his lips and he shrugged as if it were nothing. “Said I’d join up and they were quick to let me out.”

“You what?” she gasped, her voice dropping. “You said you’d join?”

“I’m not actually going to join up, love.” he stared down at her.

She ignored the flush of her face at that nickname from his lips. “Don’t you think they’ll find out?”

“Not if I’m a conscientious objector. They won’t do anything.” Tom stated, as though he had it all thought out.

“Since when have you been a pacifist?” she asked.

“Bout half hour ago.” his nose scrunched, the smirk floating to his lips.

Y/N shook her head, sighing deeply. “What do I do with you?”

His eyes widened slightly, “Well, I hope you keep me ‘round.”

“So long as you stop this. Gonna give me a heart attack if the police catch you again. Alright? No more visits, otherwise.”

Tom raised his hands, floating closer to her. His warm breath hit her face as he hovered over her, whispering sweetly. "I'll do that just because you asked."

***

The next morning, she hurried out of her flat to head to the Bennetts for the day when Tom greeted her on her doorstep. She caught him as his hand let the front door, surprised at his appearance. 

“What’re you doing here?”

“I was just-” he stuttered uncharacteristically, “I-uh need to talk to you. Is that alright?”

She blinked at him, nodding. “Of course. Come inside.”

Y/N noticed the tension in the air. Not the comfortable air that usually surrounded them. The content feeling was replaced by an air of the unknown as she awaited Tom’s explanation. 

“Is everything alright?” she glanced over his face, recognising the tension between his furrowed brows. His lips formed a tight line, his blue eyes not meeting her’s until- she held her breath, her eyes burning at the realisation hitting her. The guilty expression reflected in his stare as he opened his mouth. She knew within a moment what would fall from his lips before he spoke. 

Please don’t

She begged in her mind, repeating it over again.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Y/N felt gutted all the same, hearing it spoken aloud. A ringing sounded in her ears as she stared at him, studying and memorising every part of his face. She still asked him all the same, not wanting to believe it despite the truth of it.

“What?”

"I have to join up."

For once, he was met with silence, which was somehow more unsettling than the barrage of words his dad had for him.

"What changed?" she asked, her quiet voice loud in the silent flat.

Tom looked at her sadly, clasping his hands. "I don't have a choice. Dad won't put me up with them, and I can't stay. Otherwise..."

Tears welled in her eyes at the realisation, pursing her lips in a tight line. "Do you know how long you'll be gone?"

"No."

Y/N nodded, blinking away the tears as her heart beated faster in her chest. Tom clenched his jaw, pulling her into his arms as a sigh escaped his mouth. "You'd better come back." 

“I will. I'll try my best. Can't promise you anything, but-"

"I won't accept anything less than a promise." She met his eyes. "People die every day, but you do whatever you need to get back here."

"I can never say no to you, can I?" he smiled, ducking his head to press against her forehead. "I'll do my best not to break it then."

***

News arrived, but it wasn’t what she was expecting that day. It began with word of the HMS Exeter being attacked. 61 soldiers were killed, 24 were injured and the ship was pulling up back to the shore. A knock sounded at her door, shaking her from the trance she was in.

“You hear?” Lois asked, seeing the pallor of the woman’s face.

Y/N nodded, “He’ll be fine, right? It’s Tom.”

“He’s too stubborn. They’ll have to do worse to stop him from comin’ back.”

Two days later, on her walk home from work, her heart skipped a beat at the familiar blonde standing at her door. He smirked upon seeing her widened eyes.

"I brought you a canary." he held up the cage, placing it on the ledge.

She shook her head and leapt into his arms, clutching onto him as a lifeline. Her eyes fell shut as she withheld those tears.

“Don’t do that to me.” she breathed.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, caressing her head.

Soon enough, she ushered him inside and he discussed all that had happened on the tour. There was a sombre mood that caused her to trip up, recognising the slight change in his demeanour.

“What else happened?”

He flickered to meet her eyes, playing his fingers as they sat on the bed. Tom pursed his lips, shaking off the nerves. “I saw a few mates...they got caught in an explosion. I was the only one to get out unscathed.”

Tom looked up at her from his lowered position on the bed, leaning up on an arm. Her hand darted out to him. “I just-I feel this...guilt.”

“You shouldn’t.” she stated, despite the scoff that he restrained. “You survived. It’s terrible and I’m sorry about your friend. It just means that you need to make the most of what you’ve got.”

His eyes darted down, his voice shaking. “I'm afraid.”

Something shattered in her chest at the fear in his voice. Her hand darted out to push his hair back from his beautiful features, comforting him as he tucked away. 

“Dad wants me to go back.” 

Her eyes widened, “What’d you tell him?”

“Exactly that...I don’t wanna go back to that. I can’t watch people die. I won’t kill anyone.”

She nodded, listening intently to his words as she felt a part of herself shattering. “Try again. Your dad’s understanding, first. I’ll be here, no matter what you choose. I know you’ll do what’s best.”

"How do you always do that?" he pondered.

She tilted her head, “Do what?"

"Make it easier." Tom sighed, "Everything is...quiet when I'm around you. It's easier with you."

"I'm glad. You could smile more." she chuckled as he tickled her neck.

"Please don't look sad. I can't handle it." Tom pleaded, “Smile for me, so I can remember that image each and every day.”

There is another heartfelt goodbye that evening, and she is left with those same butterflies in her stomach as his touch left.

Two days later on her doorstep is the answer to her question. She held him tighter that day, a whisper of a kiss pressed to the corner of his mouth. She memorises the corners of his face, the warmth of his touch on her skin. The blue of his eyes and the feeling of his soft hair beneath her fingertips. The goodbye brings tears to her eyes that fall, only to meet his soft caresses as her brushed them away. 

She bit her lip, mustering a wistful smile for him. A promise fell from her mouth. "I'll be waiting for you." 

***

In the end, she hoped that the pain of the previous occasion would be a once off. Listening to the radio each and every morning was a norm in her flat, however, it became a nerve-wrecking moment when the news arrived. The HMS Exeter had, in fact, been performing a rescue mission of British soldiers from the beach at Dunkirk when an attack killed and injured many. 

They were awaiting numbers from the Allied forces in France. Tallies of survivors would be relayed when available. At the moment, they were left with only the question of whether their loved ones would be on the lists of the missing, or the deceased. Over the coming weeks, Lois had watched the spiral in her. The dimming light as she failed to bring that smile to her face with the essence of her light gone. 

He was the light to reignite that spark in her. And when Tom Bennett returned on her doorstep, her swept Y/N off her feet. The man refused to prolong the moment any further as he pressed his lips to her’s.

TAGS

@pearlstiare @chainsawsangel ​   @aemonds-sapphire @xcharlottemikaelsonx ​ @padfooteyes ​ @batsyforyou @yentroucnagol @cl-0-vr @viviartsy @h3k3t @arcana-greenleaf  @yummycastiel @lauraneedstochill  @rntrsna @schniiipsel @caribbeangal @ccosmic-illusion @aemonds-wifey

[moutainrusing]

realisation

dorlene july event, 541 words, @enbysiriusblack

Marlene never had any big realisation about it. It was just something she inherently knew. Sure there was this cock in between her legs, but it wasn’t hers. It was just there. Didn’t make her any less of a girl.

She’d known she wasn’t a boy since the days of brawling with her brothers. Since the days of ripping her trousers from climbing trees. Since the days she liked wearing clothing typical of ‘boys’ and found herself thinking that really, clothing should just be genderless.

She’d known she wasn’t a boy through her intense dislike of pop music, through her passionate love for sports, through her running and training and Quidditch, through her brotherhood with James, Sirius, Remus and Peter in the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory.

She called it a brotherhood, because she didn’t mind being considered a brother to people. ‘Bro’ seemed pretty gender-neutral to her. In fact, she preferred people calling her ‘brother’ over her birth name. Her friends would call her ‘brother,’ strangers would call her ‘McKinnon,’ and all was well.

She didn’t mind being in the boys’ dormitory. She supposed she did have the cock after all. (Not hers.) She got along with boys just fine, even if she wasn’t one. And she wasn’t fussed about pronouns. They were just an easier way of referring to the person; it didn’t matter that much to her. In her head, she used ‘she.’ She was often in her head.

But then came the dare, at the end of first year. The dare to get up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory without getting tossed down. James and Sirius skidded down every time they tried. Remus could not be bothered. Peter was too scared to embarrass himself. But Marlene?

This wasn’t any new realisation; she ascended the stairs with ease.

James gaped at her. “Bro… how are you doing that?”

Remus closed James’s jaw with a roll of his eyes before smiling at Marlene, “I’d recommend talking to McGonagall.”

James frowned in confusion. “About how he can do that?” Remus flicked James’s furrowed brow in exasperation.

Marlene cleared her throat. She… was ready. “No… I’ll talk to her about transferring to the girls’ dorm.”

James remained confused. “Why?” Remus slapped him. (Lightly.)

Marlene laughed. “‘Cause my name’s Marlene. And I’m a girl.”

Remus had no reaction, the all-knowing swot he was. He’d been referring to Marlene with ‘they’ and ‘them’ for ages now. Peter nodded easily, Sirius was already distracted with pestering Fabian and Gideon, and James uttered, “Brother…” Then he tacked on, “Wait, sorry, sister…”

Marlene shook her head fondly, “I don’t mind—”

Just then, Dorcas poked her head down the stairs. Marlene’s breath caught in her throat. See, this was why boys were good company. She was too gay to function around girls as pretty as Dorcas. Dorcas grinned at her, and Marlene’s lungs constricted.

“So, you came out then? I’m happy for you. I’m also happy for myself, ‘cause now we get you in our dorm.”

Marlene returned the grin at full force. From second year onwards, everyone knew her as ‘she.’ And now that she was free to be herself, she spent less time in her head, and more time joking around with Mary, Lily and Dorcas.

[kinnikumanlovings]

I never made a request before but I glad to see more love in the fandom! It is possible to have Buffaloman, Kinnikuman, Brocken Jr., Warsman relationship headcanons with a s/o who’s a female Chojin with similar powers as Boa Hancock from One Piece or personality like Nico Robin? I’m sorry if it’s too much, you can do one character if it’s easier for you if you like.

I haven’t put a chara cap on things just yet so you’re good! And oh what an interesting combo~ Let’s see how these boys fair with such beauty and grace!

Buffaloman, Kinnikuman, Brocken Jr, Warsman x F!Chojin S/O HCs

Buffaloman

Talk about a powerhouse couple, my goodness! Buffaloman acknowledges her strength and beauty only when he wants others to know just how amazing his SO is. He’s not the best at expressing his feelings directly to his partner at times but he dares anyone to question her ability. Because he will make it a known fact exactly how he feels about her as if that is the only fact that exists in the world.

He finds her power to be unique and impressive to witness being unleashed against her opponents. Almost taking a bit of selfish pride in her abilities. Maybe this is partly because he spars with her so he knows just how good she can be in the ring and out of it. He values that his partner is also smart as well. She’s not one to be easily out bested and I pray for you if you disgrace her in any way because the first person you’d have to answer to will be Buffaloman. He will not stand for anything less than respect for his partner and doesn’t care who you are. There are no exceptions.

Kinnikuman

If this woman has the same power Boa does, their first meeting results in him turning to stone. He’s weak, WEAK to her charms and looks he cannot help but fall for her on first meeting. Begs her to be his fangirl because how could she no? They would make such a gorgeous and powerful duo! Of course she’d say yes!

Everyone who knows them is baffled why a smart and beautiful Chojin would be with someone like Kinnikuman. If asked about their relationship she most likely will give the reasoning of “he makes me laugh and feel loved” because it’s true! He’s a silly guy with a big heart and even though there are times she feels unsure of depending on him, Kinniku will be there for her when she needs him most. He’s the type to show off and brag about how wonderful his SO is to anyone who’d listen (and those who won’t suffer a bit). They have the “yapper and listener” dynamic as she happily sits and listens to him boast about his victories and make him sound so much cooler in his retelling then the actual events. She knows what’s true and what’s false but she lets him give his version because she adores listening to him regardless of the accuracy.

Brocken Jr.

Being on the younger, less experienced side, I feel like Brocken Jr. also ran into the unfortunate fate of getting turned to stone by his (future) SO. I feel it was a bit more involved than Kinniku, in the sense it wasn’t on sight as much as simply a moment of weakness. He’s kinda embarrassed about it to this day but is a good sport about it when his friends tease him for it. Cause who can blame him, his SO is indeed gorgeous. Outside of that incident, Brocken is very respectful and proud to be his SO’s partner. He is quick to cheer her on in the ring and first to be there if something happens. He wants to be their support, someone she can turn to when there’s trouble or concern.

Something sweet between them that they share is a love of reading. When not training for the next battle, the two will read books and often exchange titles to see what the other thinks of the work. I can imagine they don’t always like the same genres in books but enjoy the recommendations and give it a fair chance to see what their partner enjoys. It’s sweet.

Warsman

How Warsman and his SO got together is another interesting story I’d imagine. He’s a lot more reserved (and shy) when it comes to getting together with a partner so I feel his SO had to make some first moves. Warsman has a lot of internal struggles he deals with and when he thinks about how strong, smart, and attractive his SO is he feels little…less then. He doesn’t feel she does this to him at all, he just wants her to have the most deserving partner. And sometimes he worries he’s not enough physically to deserve her. Whenever these feelings start to show, his partner is quick to course correct it. Holding his face lovingly in her hands and giving sweet, gentle promises of love and devotion to him. So many it makes his heart swell with love and adoration, “I don’t deserve you…” But hearing that gentle “You do. You deserve me and all the love I can give you, if not more…” Finally those nasty doubts that plague his mind go silent. He’s thankful and shows it through thoughtful gestures. He will do what he can to show his love and gratitude in any way he can. And sometimes it results in being protective of her over the smallest things. He’s quick to be defensive of his partner from any negative comment from the crowd during a match or any physical harm that might come at her. He knows she’s strong and capable but it doesn’t mean she should face the world alone (she wouldn’t let him do it so it’s only right he does the same for her) If she needs anything of him, she only needs to ask and it’s done.