#floods like this would only ever happen like further into the year

[frostbite-the-bat]

the water here's been going down thank god but before its peak (waaay higher than when i made my first post) my mom made me watch tv with her to show me how its even worse in germany . now i got a post on my dash about it flooding in the UK . middle of winter . uhh huuh and global warming or the concern for ppl just isnt a thing i guess. i hope everyone stays safe especially my friends in those countries :(

[gay-dorito-dust]

OMG !! idk if you've seen baby bill cipher but he's such a little cutie — you should totally do a oneshot where he's accidentally transformed into his prime years and the reader is forced to take care of him , not realizing that baby bill imprinted on them !! kinda like ducklings ^_^♡

(it can be gender neutral , female , male, whatever you're comfortable with <3)

You didn’t know what to expect when you came home after work, especially not with Bill. He could’ve flooded your bathtub with rat sized spiders, or made your fridge grow legs just to tell you that you need to catch it, or even decide to decorate your house with portraits of morbidly disturbing subjects that get worse the longer you look at them.

However what you defiantly didn’t expect to see was a little cute yellow blob with comedically large light blue shoes sat on your couch, his singular eye staring at you.

‘Bill?’ You asked as you walked closer to the little guy, still thinking this was some prank as your eyes scan the rest of the room, expecting him to have popped out by now and dose you in fake blood or something but nothing of the sort happened.

The little yellow blob only made grabby hands at you and that was all it took for you to know that this little cutie pie was Indeed the little shit you knew as Bill, but how did he revert to being a baby? You didn’t know but your heart melted when baby bill made a disgruntled noise when you didn’t immediately pick him up and automatically gave in as you held him close to your chest.

Unaware that baby bill had imprinted on you the moment you walked into the room, knowing that you were a trustworthy person to protect and keep him safe from all harm.

‘Hello little guy.’ You cooed as you smiled down at baby bill who only looked back at you with his big eye full of wonder and awe, it made you wonder about how this little cutie became a demonic creature that thrived off of human tragedy and torture because whatever it was that did it didn’t sound too particularly pleasant.

Baby bill only babbled back at you, his tiny hand grasping your finger tightly which only melted your heart even further. ‘Well aren’t you the cutest triangle I’ve ever seen, oh yes you are.’ You praised as you sat down on the couch, tickling him slightly, which caused him to giggle and you couldn’t help but hold this little sweetheart close to your chest.

Taking care a little baby triangle wasn’t easy as you couldn’t go to work without the little guy crying and reaching for you with his tiny hands in desperation, it broke your heart that you had to call in sick for the next couple of days as you tried to figure out what baby triangles liked to eat if they even eat at all.

Soon enough you found out that he didn’t like crust on his sandwiches after the first couple of times when he didn’t touch them, and after that you would always make sure that his sandwiches were crustless as to prevent your house being trashed during his little tantrums.

He still liked silly straws and wouldn’t drink anything at all unless it was through a silly straw, this was already well known knowledge as there was countless times where Bill would casually cause chaos and be found sat on some surface, sipping a drink through a silly straw as though he was watching a movie or a sitcom.

You even bought little outfits for him during this time too! Sure they were made for human babies but you didn’t care as Bill looked absolutely adorable in the unicorn onesie that you had albums dedicated to him and the outfits you bough him.

You had to wash him in the bathroom sink because you feared that the bathtub would be a bit too big for little bill and that was about as successful as giving a dog a bath, you had to case the floating baby triangle throughout the house before finally managing to catch him and drag him to the bathroom.

Baby bill clung onto you no matter where you went, as though he was scared to be apart from you and would even sneak himself into your hoodies, jackets, wherever he could fit himself in so that when you went to the shop, he’d poke his head out to smile at you.

You wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t when he was so cute and so you gently reminded him that he couldn’t always sneak into your pockets and not expect you to experience parental adrenaline when you couldn’t find him nearby.

He pouted and looked saddened by this but you made it up to him by cuddling him and blowing raspberries on him, making him giggle.

You wake up to him sleeping on your face most of the time since he couldn’t sleep anywhere else unless he was near you, but you feared that you’d squish him by accident so you tried letting him sleep on your pillow, only for him to be found fast asleep against your face or your neck by the morning.

It was sweet while it lasted but it was only a matter of time before he reverted back to his usual sharp angles and chaotic self, so you valued all the time you had with baby bill to heart and making sure he had nothing but unconditional love and affection from someone who cared.

[soapybutt17]

The Next of Kin

Summary: Simon needed to update his contact information, as dodgy as he was for giving everyone even a glimpse of his private life, he did so. Who would have ever thought that it would become handy after an injury left him high on painkillers and needy for his girls back home. Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Wife!Reader. OC Daughter (Cassandra "Cassie" Riley). John Price. Word Count: 1,615 Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Injuries. Drug Consumption. Slight Angst. Mostly fluff.

Masterlist || Request are Open

It was the annual checkup in the base, something that Simon had dreaded the most knowing what it entails. Not only was his current and past injuries being monitored but he was all too certain about the wacky doctor would also make an appearance to check on his mental state. It wasn’t a fun time as any of his other team mates point it out to be.

“Should we update your emergency contact, Lieutenant Riley?” The nurse had inquired dealing with his medical records.

A part of him wanted to say no, but remembering what was waiting for him home, he could not allow himself to break his wife’s heart as well as his own daughter if the time ever comes that he dies in the middle of battle. He would want to ensure if ever that was to happen, you would know and hope that you would move on.

“Yes,” He agreed accepting the clipboard and pen handed to him.

Without an ounce of hesitation, he wrote your name and your number under his emergency contacts.

His handwriting was decent and readable at best, chicken scratch at worst as Johnny had eloquently pointed out during reports. But there was this special care with the way he wrote your first name and his last name that you were more than happy to take as soon as you married all those years ago. Your number was ingrained to his brain as he wrote it, having forced himself to memorize in the event he didn’t have his personal phone with him and simply a burner phone for missions.

What truly took him a second to write was the blank space dedicated to his relationship with you. No one knew he was in a relationship, nor did anyone know about his marriage. It took him a full two minutes before he found himself slowly opening the flood gates of his personal life that he had tried his best to hide from the world.

“Never knew you were married, Lieutenant.”

“Never planned on letting anyone know about it.” He spoke honestly, the cold demeanor and tone enough to stop the conversation from going further about his personal life.

Little did Simon know that the upcoming mission would lead to him having to make use of the emergency contact.

~

When you had begun your relationship with one Simon Riley, you had always accepted that he would always be gone for uncertain amounts of months in a year, you had accepted that part of him. How mission would always mean the world was a little safer from the dangers of man. You accepted all the big and small flaws that came with Simon and even in your eventual marriage and the birth of your daughter, you had come to accept the danger that would come in missions that would place him badly bruised or beaten beyond repair. You would always be there to tend to each and every single wounds and be the shoulder for him to cry on when he was good and ready.

But nothing could have ever prepared you for another unknown call coming from your phone. You’ve always expected it to be your husband, checking up on you before the mission begins like he always does. But the voice of an unknown man was the last thing you would have expected.

He called himself John Price and you know the man from your husband’s few conversations when he talks about the people he works with. You had feared for the worst as soon as he had explained that your husband has just gotten out of surgery after a mission. A few broken bones and a superficial gunshot wound. But it was enough to worry you as Simon himself has been asking for you as soon as he was out of surgery and in lucid consciousness.

On most days you were calm and collected, but it was the panic of seeing the worse of your husband that had you carrying your two year old and a baby bag towards your car with a mission. The Captain had asked if you could possibly have someone come get him but you know no one else better to check up on him but yourself and your daughter that was all the more excited about being in the car.

The travel was rather long and rather tedious knowing you and your husband had agreed to live away from the city and away from any dangers that may come to you and the baby while he was gone. You had appreciated the distance, the peaceful tranquility that came with being away from the bustle and noise of the city but not this time. It had meant a longer journey and a more hectic one since the base was all the way across the other side.

Once you had arrived to the base, all eyes were on you. Many eyes had lingered on you when they heard your last name. You know for a fact that your husband’s name and reputation beholds him, but you never knew nor did you ever try to question to what extent. It unnerved you more was how avoidant everyone had been of you aside from one of the soldiers tasked with bringing you and your daughter to your husband.

Outside the infirmary room was a rugged man. The man exudes an air or control and intensity and rugged strength, but not as much as your husband did. His posture was upright, suggesting discipline and years of military training. Dressed in an all too familiar tactical gear, he gives off a no-nonsense vibe that immediately commands attention.

“Ma’am, my name is John Price.” The man introduced the moment he caught sight of you.

You spoke your name and your daughter that was surprisingly all too mum in the whole situation, you were surprised that she wasn’t crying at being in an unfamiliar environment like she usually was.

“It is best to assume that you two are Simon’s wife and daughter, I presume?” He inquired.

You took a moment to think if it was alright to agree with his statement. Knowing your husband and the array of precaution he had come to give you, you were uncertain if you could trust the man with such a fact.

“Yes.” You spoke, dealing with the consequence later as there was something more important that needed your attention. “How’s he doing?” You inquired wanting to change the subject now.

“Stable. A little loopy from the drugs, but he’ll make a fast recovery.”

You nodded, hesitation of asking if you would be allowed to see him now in his state.

“He was looking for you.” He opened the door for you and you were welcomed with your husband in bed with his mask still on.

“Dada!” Your daughter squealed upon the sight of your husband groggy still.

You watched as his head turned to look at you and your daughter.

“Love…” He grunted wincing at the pain that you were certain that was coming in full force now.

“I’m here, Baby.” You whispered approaching him, cupping his cheeks gently. “Me and Cassie are here.” You assured trying your best to hide the tears that were fighting to fall at the sight of him.

~

When Simon Riley had opened his eyes, the first thing that he had come to notice was the pain that surrounded his entire body. The next thing that he noticed was the warmth that wrapped around his calloused hand.

Turning his head he saw the most beautiful sight that he had the fortune of seeing in his life. His wife and daughter. The more pressing matter was the fact that you were asleep in an all too familiar uncomfortable plastic chair with one hand on him, and your other arm held onto your baby sleeping on your chest.

“Baby…” He grunted harsher than he intended.

Slowly blinking away, your eyes immediately turned down towards your daughter before your eyes met his own.

“How are you holding up?” You inquired immediately, trying your best not to wake your sleeping daughter still cradled snuggly on your chest.

“Like a bitch.” He muttered appreciating being able to swear with his daughter still asleep. “But I’ll live.”

“I’m glad.” You sighed, rubbing his hand tenderly. “I was so worried about you when your boss called me. I thought something worse has happened.” You whispered.

“I didn’t really want to worry you—or have you see me like this.” He muttered.

“I know.” You nodded gently letting go of his hand to cup his cheeks that still was covered with his mask. “But I’m still as glad to be here right now knowing you’re alright. Me and Cassie get to see you’re alright.”

At the mention of your daughter, Simon noticed his daughter begin to get fussy from your chest. Gently pushing himself up until he sat on his bed much to your protest, he took your now crying daughter into his arms, gently laying her onto his chest and how quick she was sated in his warmth.

“Daddy’s here, Angel. I’m here.” He began to whisper, pulling off his balaclava to kiss his daughter onto top of her head. “I’m not going soon for a while. I promise.”

He has yet to tell you about the doctor’s insistence that he takes a few months off. It would be something he would tell when you get home. Once he finishes up with the paper works, he’ll let you know of the good news. For now, all that’s important was he had you and his daughter here with him, even in his most vulnerable state.

[mirohlayo]

🍉 WATERMELON — hiya!! congrats on 1k! i was wondering if i could please request a watermelon with the prompt 'kisses on the tip of the nose' & lando norris?? ❤️

THE RACE AND THE GIRL

( Lando's first win is your first kiss win. )

warning : none, all fluffy

note : my boyy finally got his first win ahhhw !!! and thank youu bby love you ᥫ᭡

word count : 938

As the crowd cheers for the British McLaren driver, the entire racing team runs behind the barriers, ready to celebrate their driver who has just won his first F1 race.

A divinely big smile has been plastered on your face for 10 minutes. A few tears of joy bead on your cheeks as you weave between the members of McLaren, making your way to be in the front row.

The atmosphere seems unreal, almost surreal. The cries and applause of the spectators match the rhythm of the tears and smiles of the mechanics. You seem to be in a dream, failing to realize that all of this is really happening. But reality is before your eyes, more than ever.

Lando Norris won his first victory.

After years and years of hope, despair, and questioning, he finally succeeded. He's finally done it, he's finally reached his ultimate goal, and the big smile on his face speaks for itself. His moist eyes highlight the beautiful victory he gave us. He is the happiest man on earth right now, and nothing and no one can say otherwise.

The other drivers on the grid come to congratulate him, celebrate him, sending him words of encouragement and respect. Lando's smile hasn't disappeared for a while now, but that divinely beautiful smile warms your heart. Because it is a sign of victory and happiness.

And without further ado, you see your boyfriend drop his helmet on the ground, and literally throw himself at the members of McLaren. Everyone carries him with their arms, some shake him to congratulate him, others shout indecipherable words to him. You can only follow suit, cheering as best you can and especially with all your heart for your boyfriend.

The moment is idyllic, almost utopian. The pressure and adrenaline absolutely do not want to go down, they continue to increase at the sight of the deep feelings that this victory provides. Everything seems to be an illusion, no one seems to want to believe what just happened.

And yet, you couldn't be happier and more fulfilled than now. As Lando lowers himself to the ground, kissing Zak quickly but tightly, his eyes finally meet yours. You don’t know if that moment lasted hours or seconds, but the feeling of his gaze on you burned your skin.

He approaches you, quickly, and thinking of nothing, nor of the consequences, he gently lifts you to take you over the barrier. The cameras flood the show with thousands of flashes, and yet, despite the fact that it seems like the entire Earth is watching you, it's just you and Lando.

A bubble has taken hold, spreading around you. Putting yourself in respect of others. There is only him and you, only your eyes and your hearts to express feelings still hidden and secret from the public eye. You're sure you'll never forget the way he's looking at you right now, his smile growing wider at the sight of yours.

Maybe it was the adrenaline that started it, or maybe it was just the metamorphosis of way too strong feelings waiting to explode, but Lando has never felt more confident . So confident and not even a little hesitant.

His hands gently cup your face. He gives you one last big smile, while his lips press against the tip of your nose, gently, sensually. The kiss lasted perhaps a fraction of a second, or perhaps an eternity. All you can remember is the feeling of his lips against your skin.

The cameras stream in as Lando whispers these simple words to you, these words that you will never be able to get used to, they are so exquisite. "I love you, my love. I love you so much. Thank you for everything". He can't smile anymore, because that would give him endless pain in his cheek.

But maybe that sore cheek was worth it right now, and without another second's hesitation, he places another kiss on the tip of your nose. This time, a longer, more passionate kiss. You wouldn't describe how you feel right now, because there aren't enough powerful words to do it.

So you just enjoy. You take advantage of this unreal moment. This kiss, this kiss on your nose, was the promise of an eternal relationship. Your secret romantic relationship has finally become public. Everyone will know by now that you have been in a relationship for a few months now, but yet this idea seems like the most beautiful thing.

And while he seems to want to kiss you again, this time if his gaze is on your lips, you stop him with a soft laugh. You know it, he knows it, that he must first take care of the media and the interviews. So, in a last kiss left on the same spot, he winks at you before heading towards the journalists.

And when these same journalists ask him questions about your couple, about your relationship, Lando will always give the same one and only answer, a big smile on his lips and hearts in his eyes. “I won this trophy and above all the girl of my dreams, the one with whom I have been deeply in love since my childhood. So yeah, this is the happiest day of my life.”

But what is certain is that the media will continue to talk and gossip about the kisses Lando gave you on the tip of your nose. However, it will never bother you, since people will now know that it is his favorite place to kiss you, at least in public. Between you two, it's something else...

[careyakane]

I bare my teeth at change.

I wait until its back is turned and then I set fire to its plans. It only laughs at me. Laughs as I set fire to my own treasures. If only I knew the beauty that lies in change. The same of something will grow sterile. It will loose character and drain joy. It’s in change where new love is found. New appreciation even for the same people we have held our whole lives. Change is the most beautiful thing we have if we only we learn to accept it. But yet still I panic. I fear. I cry. I break at the news of Albany st selling. At the change in a loved one’s voice. At the passing of a cat. At the truth of my own actions. I seem to grow so small. I did not appreciate what was Infront of me and now I mourn its absence. Permanence. God it’s a scary thing. Things set into motion. I always feel if only I catch them early enough. Maybe I could have a seat at the table with these decision makers. If only they saw how my mind worked. They would lift me into the realm beyond and I would stop the clock. Pull everything back into its right place. “See don’t you see! Look how beautiful it all is again” I would shout. They would only shake their heads and sigh. Another flawed human who can’t understand the truth of this world. Life is ever shifting. Let yourself go into this. Love in this. Die in this. It is the only option. You had four years in that house. Fires in the back yard. You held her more nights than you know. You laughed and cried. You shook uncontrollably as she left. You greeted her on that front porch in fall after she said she wouldn’t come. You danced under rain and snow. You were a kid there. And those memories will never be taken from you. Not fully at least. But it is time to let that place exist for someone else. You were told she couldn’t even stay there because it felt to much like you. I think part of my fear is in that fact. This feels like life driving her even further from me. How am I supposed to meet her there this summer. Sit between those walls. Look into her eyes and let the feelings flood back. That was supposed to happen. Now one of our last lifelines is being cut.

[insomniac4000]

Sorry, wrong roommate ChrisMD

In which fans ship the wrong people.

Y/N had been on YouTube for over a decade, her channel a mix of witty challenges, heartfelt travel vlogs, and occasional collaborations with other creators. With over six million subscribers, Y/N was adored for her authenticity and sharp humour. Over the years, she'd become close friends with Chris Dixon, better known as ChrisMD, a fellow YouTuber with a penchant for football content.

For years, their friendship had been nothing but platonic. They'd filmed countless videos together, shared inside jokes, and supported each other through breakups and career slumps. They both invested into The Fellas Studio’s which meant they had office and production spaces in the building, on the same floor. But three months ago, something shifted. A late-night conversation in Chris’s office turned into a lingering glance, which turned into a kiss, which turned into them falling into a relationship neither of them had seen coming.

Chris lived in a flat with fellow content creators George Clarke and Arthur Hill, Y/N, being a frequent visitor to Chris’s flat, naturally spent time with their pair of them as well. In particular Y/N and George hit it off instantly, their shared sense of humour leading to a fast friendship. However, Y/N and Chris had decided to keep their relationship private for now. They didn’t want the pressure of public opinion or fan theories while they were still navigating the early stages of being a couple. They had both been down that road before with relationships somewhat playing out on screen so they wanted to things to be for themselves for a while until they were ready to share. What they hadn’t anticipated was how quickly the internet would misinterpret Y/N and George’s friendship.

It all started one Friday night Y/N leaned back against the couch in Chris, Arthur and George's living room, scrolling through her phone. George sat beside her, editing a TikTok they'd just filmed a chaotic dance routine that involved several failed attempts and a lot of laughter.

"This is gold," George said, grinning as he watched the video.

"Pure comedy genius," Y/N agreed, sipping her wine as Chris was sat on the other sofa, a bemused smile on his face as he had watched all of the chaos unfold in front of him they did try to rope him into it too but Chris could be very stubborn.

The Tiktok had it’s fans, and they noticed that Y/N and George started posting several photos and videos together over the next few weeks, often tagging each other and teasing back and forth in the comments. Even when the weren’t together To them, it was harmless fun. To their fans, it was evidence of something more.

George Clarkeey- I’m on a boat MF

Y/N- a Picture of you and all the women you’ve ever chatted up.

Y/N Loving my new view in my flat.

George Clarkeey- Wear your bloody glasses for once and you’ll be able to see it.

On Twitter, hashtags like #Y/NAndGeorge and #NewYouTubeCouple were started to creep up. Fan edits of their TikToks flooded Instagram, accompanied by captions like, "Their chemistry is undeniable!" and "We ship it!"

Y/N showed one of the posts to George, who burst out laughing.

"They think we’re dating?" he said, eyes wide.

"Apparently," Y/N replied, shaking her head.

Chris walked into the room just then, his hair damp from a shower. "What’s so funny?" he asked, sitting on the armrest of the couch beside Y/N.

"People think I’m dating George," Y/N said, showing him the post.

Chris smirked, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes something like irritation. "Well, that’s... creative."

"Relax, Dixon," George said, clapping Chris on the back. "Your girlfriend's too classy for me."

"True," Y/N teased, earning a playful nudge from George.

As the weeks went on, the rumours only grew. Every time Y/N and George posted something together, fans speculated further. Chris tried to laugh it off, it wasn’t something they had expected to happen when they kept their relationship quiet and in all honesty it was quite a welcome distraction in some ways. He trusted Y/N completely, but seeing fans ship her with someone else—especially his flatmate—was frustrating. He couldn’t say anything publicly without revealing their relationship, and he didn’t want to be the jealous boyfriend, not that he was jealous he wasn’t ready to share things with the world just yet but there was a part of him that was quite it wasn’t him and Y/N who were getting the attention, there was still a big part of him that wanted to shout out his feelings from the rooftops and he felt a little guilty that he couldn’t always show her how much she meant to him in the way that he wanted to.

The rumours reached a fever pitch when a paparazzi photo surfaced of Y/N and George grabbing coffee together. In the picture, George was holding the door open for Y/N, who was laughing at something he’d said. The internet went wild.

“They’re so cute together!”

“Look at my boy all growing up.”

“I swear George has been crushing on her for ages.”

What people didn’t know was George and Y/N were picking up a coffee before going shopping together as George asked Y/N’s help to get him something for Chris’s birthday.

Then came the podcast

Max kicked off the episode with his usual sarcastic charm. "We’ve got a very special guest today—YouTube royalty herself, Y/N! Applause, please."

George clapped dramatically, making Y/N roll her eyes with a laugh.

"Thanks for having me, boys," Y/N said, settling into her seat.

She talked about making Youtube videos, including some of her silliest moments travelling including having three airlines go bust, a ton of lost luggage including a lot of expensive camera equipment and thoughts she was going to die when a plane she was on almost flew into a hurricane.

“People think my personal life is really interesting too,” Y/N started with a grin, a small glint also showed up in George’s eye, they were well aware of what people were saying and while they did nothing to fan the flames they didn’t stoke the fire either. They were friends, friends hung out together that was all it was. Y/N continued “but really I think because I travel a lot when I am home I just tend to hang out really. I do really like to cook actually George I need to give you lessons,” she added with a smile on her face. George sighed and slumped down in his chair slightly.

“It’s not that bad,” he tried to defend himself but it fell on deaf eyes. Max looked with an amused smirk as Y/N sat up straighter in his chair, leaning forward.

"Not that bad? Do you remember last week when you tried to make toast and somehow managed to burn it? Like, the smoke alarm went off, George. It’s toast. It has one job."

Max burst out laughing, while George groaned again. "Why do you have to bring that up? It was one time!"

"Once is all it takes to lose your cooking privileges," Y/N teased.

The conversation quickly shifted to other topics, but fans latched onto Y/N’s comment.

Clips of the episode went viral almost immediately, particularly Y/N’s anecdote about George burning toast. Fans dissected her casual delivery, honing in on one detail: why was Y/N there in the morning to witness it?

Twitter was flooded with speculation.

“Wait, Y/N was at George’s flat in the MORNING? 👀”

“They’re not even trying to hide it anymore!”

“So Y/N and George are definitely dating, right? She’s roasting his cooking like a true girlfriend.”

Y/N saw the posts later that evening and couldn’t help but laugh. She sent a screenshot of one particularly dramatic fan theory to George and Chris in their group chat.

Y/N: Apparently, I’m your girlfriend now because you can’t cook toast.

George: I mean, to be fair, I’d date me too.

Chris: This is getting ridiculous. You should’ve just told them you were there because of me. Plus George I can still smell burnt toast, whenever I walk into the kitchen I think I’m having a stroke, I’m useless.

Y/N: And ruin the mystery? Never.

George: Chris I thought you had Y/N to give you a stroke now?

Y/N:FFS George

Despite their lighthearted texts, Chris couldn’t shake the unease that lingered after the episode aired. Fans were taking Y/N’s story and running with it, creating elaborate timelines and theories about her supposed relationship with George.

One evening, as Chris and Y/N curled up on the couch watching a movie, he sighed.

"What’s wrong?" Y/N asked, glancing up at him.

"Just... all this George stuff," he admitted. "I know it’s dumb, but I hate that people think you’re with him. Like, we’re together, and no one knows."

Y/N’s expression softened. "Chris, they’re just having fun with their theories. It doesn’t change anything between us."

"I know," he said, running a hand through his hair. "It’s just hard sometimes, seeing people say stuff like that."

Y/N pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Well, if it helps, I’m planning something that’ll clear everything up soon."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"

"Probably," she said with a grin.

It took another couple of week but Chris and Y/N decided enough was enough, they were ready to share. Plus the rumours were becoming too ridiculous to ignore. Fans were dissecting every interaction between her and George, claiming they were secretly in love, there was even one rumour the pair were getting engaged, it was definitely going too far.

She drafted an Instagram post, carefully choosing her words. Then, with a mischievous smile, she typed the caption:

“Sorry, been f**ing the wrong flatmate 🙃.”*

Y/N hit “post” and set her phone down.

Within minutes, her notifications exploded.

Fans were in a frenzy.

“WAIT WHAT?!”

“We’ve been duped!”

“I knew it was Chris all along!”

“The flatmate comment has me dead 💀.”

“Great cover story, I never would have predicted this.”

With their relationship public, Y/N and Chris felt a weight lift off their shoulders. They no longer had to hide their affection, and the rumours about Y/N and George quickly faded.

As for George, he milked the situation for all it was worth, joking in videos about being the “rejected flatmate” and pretending to be heartbroken. He posted his own photo of him and Arthur Hill, with the caption trying to make a certain someone jealous.  

In the end, the chaos only brought them closer together. Y/N and Chris continued to share glimpses of their relationship with their fans, proving that sometimes, the best stories are the ones you don’t see coming.

[marril96]

Just as Promised

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: Agatha saving your life leads to a heart-to-heart.

A split second was all it took for your entire world to crumble down like a house of cards.

You and Agatha usually got along fine, but today, tensions were through the roof since the moment you opened your eyes.

You were sick of the cat and mouse games, sick of longing stares that led to nothing and comforting hands on shoulders and bodies brushing against one another, convenient accidents that were anything but.

You demanded an answer: did she want to be with you or not?

You weren't opposed to staying friends; having her in your life, even as a casual acquaintance, would have been more than enough. But you needed her to say it. If she didn't want to take whatever it was the two of you had going on further, so be it. All she needed to do was speak up.

Agatha being Agatha, she kept giving vague answers that eventually became jokes, until she straight up refused to speak at all. Furious, you started screaming at her. She retorted with sarcasm, which only made you angrier.

Today, of all days, being your trial didn't help matters.

You were distracted, unable to concentrate. Even with the help of the rest of the coven, your mind kept straying to Agatha and your undefined relationship. Her snippy comments didn't help the situation; if anything, they made it worse.

Alice, ever the peacemaker, kept trying to get the two of you to knock it off. Unsuccessfully so, for it was hard to lower the tensions when one side seemed intent on raising them by any means necessary.

Thankfully, you managed to find enough willpower to push through and successfully complete the trial.

The door of the house you were locked in opened.

And then the furniture and cutlery and various appliances started rattling and flying about as if they had a mind of their own. As if it wanted you and the coven out as soon as possible, or there would be hell to pay for overstaying your welcome.

Everyone rushed out, avoiding chairs and knives and random junk, hands covering their heads in protection.

You followed in kind, yelping as your foot got caught on a toaster and you fell down like a sack of potatoes. Shit. It was just your luck to trip and fall at the most inconvenient time.

What was next? Was an anvil going to drop on your head?

The thought hadn't fully left your head before you heard Agatha screaming your name. She shoved you, hard, to the left; it was going to leave a mark hours from now.

You didn't have time to process what had just happened when a chandelier smashed to the ground, right at the spot you'd occupied just a second before.

Right at the spot where Agatha now stood.

"No!" you screamed, stomach twisting into knots, heart soaring, booming in your chest like a bomb.

As if a switch inside of you had flipped, none of what had happened earlier mattered anymore. Agatha's refusal to tell you what she wanted, if she wanted you. Her constant snide remarks. The roll of her eyes and the mockery in her tone.

She could have slaughtered someone in front of you, and it wouldn't have mattered. You would have forgiven her.

So long as she was okay.

"Agatha!" you yelled, frantic. "Help! Help!"

Don't die, you pleaded. Begged. Demanded. Please, don't die. Please. You couldn't lose her now, just as the two of you had reconnected after years of being apart. You needed her in your life. You couldn't imagine your life without her.

Alice and Teen ran up to you, having heard your pleas amidst the ruckus of flying furniture and trash. It took a few tries, but, with joint effort and a little bit of magic, you managed to push the chandelier off Agatha.

She was on the ground, seemingly unharmed. Unconscious, but alive. Relief flooded you as you felt the pulse on her neck. She was okay. She was going to be okay.

The three of you held her up and got her out. You bared your magic, eyes glowing as you willed the flying items away from you. Sparks enveloping your hands as you blasted them away.

It was over. Finally, you could put the nightmare of your trial and that weird house behind.

Then the realization that Agatha wasn't waking up set in and you were back where you started; nervous, terrified, shaking like a leaf in fall wind.

It took some pleading and begging for Jen to agree to make a potion — much alike to the one she'd made for Teen when he'd gotten impaled by glass, with slight changes for, unlike his, Agatha's injuries were internal. Internal bleeding, concussion, something else, all of the above; you didn't know what was wrong, couldn't possibly make a guess, but you owed it to her to fix it.

The only reason she was in this predicament was that she was protecting you.

Once the potion was done, and, with help, ingested, you and the others found a comfortable, quiet spot for Agatha to rest. Her head was on your lap, her coat spread over her like a blanket, one of your hands gently stroking her head while the other held onto her hand. It was strange to see her so vulnerable, so fragile. As if one wrong move would break her. And to think it was all because of you…

Jen could accuse her of having no humanity all she wanted. Agatha had a soul. She had a heart. She cared. She loved. She felt. No different than anyone else. Just because she hid her true self better didn't mean she was heartless.

She was just scared.

From all she's told you of her life, starting from her early childhood, she had every right to be.

"She saved you," Teen said. The others had left to make a fire; he wanted to stick around.

"She did," you said. "She's saved me many times."

He nodded in acknowledgment. "People are saying all kinds of things about her."

"Don't believe everything you hear." Especially about Agatha. People loved making up stories about her. The worse the slander, the juicier the gossip.

"Can you tell me, then? The truth."

"It's not mine to tell "

You'd asked her once why she allowed people to say horrid things about her. Her response was pretty much, "Let them talk." It wasn't worth it to get worked up over it. Rumors would spread either way. She knew the truth, and so did you. That was all that mattered to her.

She didn't want you to get involved.

So, you didn't.

Her secrets were hers to reveal.

"I can tell you one thing," you said. "She isn't the monster they make her out to be. Don't get me wrong, she's far from an angel, but she's no monster, either. Keep that in mind the next time you hear some wild story."

To his credit, the kid took in every word. "I will."

The two of you sat in silence for a while, until he stood up to join the rest of the coven around the fire. "Take care of her."

"Of course."

It was a given, after everything she's done for you over the centuries.

After she'd pushed you out of the way and saved your life at the cost of her own.

The arguments the two of you had had throughout the day seemed silly now. Ridiculous. Completely and utterly unnecessary. What did it matter how your relationship was defined? She cared about you. She almost died for you. In her own wordless way, she loved you.

In the grand scheme of things, romance didn't matter.

Life wasn't a genie. There was no lamp to rub, no wishes to yell at the top of your lungs. You didn't always get what you wanted. 

It would do you good to be happy with what you had.

A living friend was better than a dead lover.

Silence engulfed you like a blanket. You tuned out the cracking of the fire, the jokes and laughter of your coven. Useless background noise you neither had the strength nor willpower to entertain. Leaned against a tree, your eyes were on Agatha, safe and warm in your lap. She looked so peaceful. As if she were in deep slumber instead of rid of consciousness.

You should have been there when she'd gone up against Wanda Maximoff. You should have had her back. If you'd helped her, fought with her, maybe she wouldn't have been forced to lose three years of her life to a mind control spell.

She wouldn't have lost three years of her life to torture.

Because that was what that was. Wanda could have just let her be. She was powerless. She couldn't hurt anyone. Locking her inside her mind was cruelty for the sake of being cruel.

Why hadn't she asked you to go with her? Why hadn't she told you what she was planning?

Would it have done her any good?

You were with her now, and she'd almost died.

You'd let her down.

You would have let her down back then, too.

Tears pricked at your eyes like needles. Maybe that was why she didn't give you straight answers when you demanded she make a choice about your relationship. You were a sucky witch. Even now, sucked dry, powerless, Agatha was more powerful than you.

She'd been with Death herself, for fuck's sake. The woman had a type, and it wasn't lowly witches like you.

She was trying to let you down gently.

Tenderly, you stroked her hair and rubbed her shoulder. It's okay, you thought. I'm not mad. Reality was a bitch. That was just a fact. There was no use getting worked up over it. You would never reach the power level of someone like Rio. She liked them big and bad, and you were neither. You would always be neither.

You would always be a friend. Nothing less, and nothing more.

Agatha stirring shook you from your thoughts. A small moan escaped her mouth, one of pain, discomfort. She blinked, once, twice, three times, before her eyes settled on yours up above.

You smiled. "Hey, you. Welcome back."

"What happened?"

"You got crushed by a chandelier."

"Oh. Right." She sighed, nonchalant. As if that sort of thing happened every day.

"You probably shouldn't move much. Jen said it'll take a few hours for the potion to heal everything up."

Agatha grunted as she shifted to a more comfortable position. "That's just peachy."

A pang of guilt twisted in your heart. "Sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

Wasn't it? "It is, though. You saved me."

Agatha groaned. "Oh, don't get all sappy. It's a bad look."

For whom? For you, or for her?

Only one of you had a reputation to uphold.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Agatha, I'm serious. You saved my life."

"Consider it tit for tat, toots."

That was how the two of you had first met a couple centuries ago. You were hunting a witch hunter, and he was hunting her. You'd gotten to him just as he was about to put a bullet in her brain — from behind, covertly, of course, for hunters were nothing if not cowards.

Agatha was intrigued by your tenacity to make the predator into prey.

You were enthralled by her presence, itself.

She'd matched your freak, and you'd matched hers.

The rest was history.

You couldn't hold back a laugh. Expect her to crack jokes at most inconvenient times. Agatha laughed along, but her face instantly twisted and a hiss burst from her mouth.

"Hey, hey. Be careful," you told her. 

"This is a drag," she said, frustrated. She hated being helpless. As if losing her power wasn't enough; now she could barely move without being in pain.

"Want me to move? Maybe you'll be more comfortable on the ground," you said.

"No," Agatha said before the final word was out of your mouth. "Stay. I'm good like this."

"Okay."

Whatever she wanted, she would get. You owed her that much after she'd saved your life. If that meant holding back the need to pee for hours so she could rest her head on your lap, so be it.

You were a grownass woman. You could do this.

"Sorry for being such a bitch today," you said. "It wasn't fair to put you on the spot like that."

Pressuring her into something she clearly wasn't comfortable with was wrong. If she wanted to be more than friends, she would've told you. She had a mouth, and she wasn't afraid to use it.

She was trying to let you down gently, and you'd escalated the situation.

Agatha sighed. "I was hoping that particular topic wouldn't come up."

"I'm sorry," you said, and you meant it. "I just thought we could talk about it now that we're alone."

"Thought you'd take advantage of me being unable to leave?"

You weren't sure how to read her tone. Your cheeks burned. "N-No, of course not. I-I just—"

"Relax, honey." She grinned. "I'm just pulling your leg."

You let out a breath of the kind of relief you'd never experienced before. Gritting your teeth, you slid an arm down Agatha's body and gently put pressure on her side.

A yelp much like that of a wounded puppy escaped her mouth.

You smirked. "That's what you get for being mean."

"Are you seriously gonna torture me when I can't even defend myself?"

No. You weren't Wanda.

"Totally. It's my entire goal in life," you snarked. Then, voice softening, "Did I hurt you bad?"

"You do know I'm not made of glass, right?"

"Just checking. You did get hurt because of me, after all." And you would never forget it. If, for no other reason, than to remind people that she wasn't the heartless bitch they all thought of her as.

"That's one way of putting it," Agatha said.

The other being that she had made a conscious choice to push you out of the way of that chandelier. She'd made a choice to get hurt.

She'd made a choice to protect you at the cost of herself.

"I really am sorry," you told her. "For everything. I'm happy with the way things are between us. Nothing needs to change."

Agatha sighed. "Y/N…"

"It's fine. Really." A tear slid down your cheek. You wiped it away like a speck of dust marring a spotless surface. Another followed suit, dripping onto Agatha's forehead.

She looked up, then, a painted grimace contorting her face, she moved sideways, just enough so her eyes could connect with yours and her hands could cup your cheeks from below. Her touch was tender, comforting; you leaned into it, closing your eyes for a moment to savor it, to bask in the sensation.

"You are, by far, one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me," she said with such intent, such fervor that could come from nothing but the absolute truth.

Your heart sped up, a marathon that was well on its way to kill you.

Were your ears fooling you? Did she really just say that?

Did she…?

She did.

Her eyes all but confirmed the words you couldn't believe had come out of her mouth.

Agatha Harkness didn't speak like that. She never said things like that, especially not to you.

It wasn't possible. It couldn't be.

Yet, somehow, it was. It could.

You took in a large breath to steady yourself. Don't freak out, you were telling yourself. Don't freak out. Don't freak out. This was a serious conversation. You couldn't afford to ruin it with childish antics. Goddamn it, Agatha!

Why did she have to spring it on you like that, as if it was the most casual thing in the world? As if speaking to you like that was an everyday occurrence.

In your daydreams, absolutely. In real life? You might as well have been dreaming.

Clearing your throat, in your most totally-not-falling-apart tone, you asked, "Why the runaround, then?"

A sad smile flickered on Agatha's mouth. A wordless admittance of defeat before the battle had even started. "I ruin everything I touch."

"That's not true!" You didn't let Jen talk shit about her in your presence, and you sure as hell weren't going to let her do that, either. 

"Yes, it is," she insisted, relentless. Dead set on putting herself down, denying herself what she deserved for that was what everyone had done her entire life. "And I refuse to ruin you."

You, on the other hand, refused to let her ruin this. You refused to let her ruin the potential of something beautiful.

"Dunno if you've noticed, but I'm pretty much ruined all on my own." You'd killed, too. You'd ruined lives, manipulated, destroyed just as she had. She wasn't special.

And even if you were pure, if you were to turn back time and make your ledger white and untainted like it used to be, once upon a time, you would happily let her paint it red.

You would let her ruin you all over again.

Agatha was silent for a moment. Then, in her weakest, most vulnerable tone, she uttered, "You're still alive."

Her son. Taken from her too soon. Gone in the night without a goodbye. Destined to die before he'd even taken his first death. Living on borrowed time until it had expired just as suddenly as it had been gifted.

A fresh batch of tears poured from your eyes, spilling over her fingers. "Don't do that. Don't go there."

Agatha's eyes sparkled with tears of her own. "How can I not?"

"I won't leave you," you said, and you meant it. You meant every word, and more. "I won't die. Not anytime soon."

"You can't promise that."

"I can promise I'll do my best to try. Why is that not enough?"

You couldn't promise her forever — there was no such thing — but what you could promise was as close to that as was possible. Home. Shelter. Warmth. All in the shape of you. She would never have to be alone again. Centuries of not just friendship, but a partnership. Even closer than you were now.

All you needed was her permission.

All you needed was a yes.

"I can't lose yet another person I…"

Love.

Though she would never say it out loud, especially not around other people.

"Agatha," you said softly. Warmly. Lovingly. "I'm not going anywhere. That's one of the few things I can promise you. No matter what happens, I won't leave you, and I won't hurt you. Ever."

You never have, and you never would. You loved her too much to cause her harm. You cared about her too much to allow for anything of the sort to happen.

"We don't have to be together. I'm not trying to force you into anything you aren't comfortable with," you continued. "I just don't think it's fair that you're denying yourself good things in life based on a what if. You deserve for good things to happen to you. You deserve to be happy again."

It didn't have to be with you. She could look for happiness wherever she wanted. But she deserved it. You would be damned if you allowed her to take it away from herself.

Agatha gave a chuckle; a sad, broken one. "You're the only one who thinks so."

"Since when do you care what people think?"

She allowed them to think she murdered her own son, that she had traded him for a book of dark magic. She allowed them to think her heartless. Cruel. A monster. She allowed them to think the worst, and had never said a word to correct them. Had banned you from setting the record straight.

Why did it matter if they didn't think she deserved to be happy?

They were nothing.

She was everything.

"I don't," she agreed. "I care about what you think."

She took hold of one of your hands and brought it down to her mouth. Her lips pressed to your fingers, a soft, tender kiss that sent electric sparks through your entire body. Your eyes fell closed for a moment. You were lost in this little gesture; you could get lost in it forever.

Her lips were a welcome presence everywhere, on every part of your body. Whichever part of you she wanted to claim, she could. You were hers in any way she desired, spoils of a war you never fought. You surrendered willingly.

"Don't say that just because you think that's what I wanna hear," you said, just in case. Still in disbelief that this was happening, that she was so vulnerable, so exposed with you. That she wasn't scared that you were going to hurt her, or turn your back on her.

Agatha frowned. "When have you ever known me to do that?"

Fair point.

You smiled. "Just making sure."

"If I wasn't injured, I would kiss you silly for being such an idiot."

Your cheeks burned. "Is that a promise?"

"It's a threat," she clarified with a smirk.

"I hope you intend to make good on it."

"Oh, honey, I do. Trust me."

"I'm holding you to it."

"Have I ever lied to you?"

You pondered on it. "Well, there was that time back in—"

Agatha smacked your hand, prompting both of you to laugh.

"You're my pet now," she said.

You raised an eyebrow. "Pet? Really?"

"What? Did you have something else in mind?" she said with feigned ignorance, mouth pulled into a mocking pout.

"Well, I was thinking something more… equal." But you would take pet.

Pet was fine.

She pretended to think about it. "I suppose I could upgrade you to a girlfriend."

Girlfriend.

Your heart was in shambles. You, all of you, were in shambles. A wooden house barely holding itself together after a hurricane had passed through it, destroying everything in its path. One wrong move, or breath, or thought, and you would crumble 

Girlfriend.

You repeated the word in your head, again and again, Agatha's voice an echo in the vast hallway that was your mind.

Girlfriend. Girlfriend. Girlfriend.

This was real. It wasn't a hallucination, or a dream, or a cruel prank.

After a long, hard day of hissy fits and arguments, Agatha had finally told you what she wanted.

And it was you.

"I-I like that," you muttered, too stunned to say much else. Gods knew you wanted to say a lot, much more than your mouth could currently handle.

Agatha smirked, ever the tease. "You do, don't you?"

"Mmhm." You took her hands in yours and laid a kiss — two, three — to her knuckles, just as she had to yours. "Hurry up getting better. I want that threat-kiss."

"Oh, honey, you won't know what hit you."

"I better not."

"Are you doubting me?"

Never. "Just building anticipation."

Agatha licked her lips. "In that case, keep it up."

So, you did.

And, a couple hours later, she kissed you as if both your lives depended on it. As if you would die if your mouths were ever to part.

Just as promised.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @miss-moon-guardian @hermslore @uniquelesbianidiot @natashamaximoff1 @daddyriovidal @alsoknownasmel @swan-queen-is-magic @tardisesandtitans @midnight-lestrange

[mrchiipchrome]

Thunder Only Happens When It's Raining

A/n: It's giving 'here damn', sorry for it taking so long icl I was struggling with this one. Say if you can tell whether I was hungry or no making this😭

W.C. - 7.7 k

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The first thing you can feel as you start to gain consciousness is a weight against your arm, pressing on your bicep and cutting off the blood flow to the rest of your arm. The tingle in the tips of your fingers feels almost like TV static would, pricking and prodding at the insides of your digits almost harshly.

The second thing you feel is something, someone, pressed against your front, the warmth radiating from her disappearing between the two of you and turning into a tingle at the top of your stomach. Her body fits perfectly against your own, curves fitting in the spaces of your body like that what it was made for, maybe it was, you’d never know.

The third thing you feel is fabric against the back of your hand and soft skin beneath the fingertips of your right hand. The softness of the skin doesn’t fool you for a second though, a layer of firm muscle built up over multiple years just beneath it, an impressive feat really.

Still, you don’t open your eyes, much rather wanting to savor the slow morning moments of the Sunday, the last calm one for a while, with pre-season training starting during the new week and school picking up the pace.

The quiet, serene moment is only interrupted by the sound of something crashing to the ground not too far away from where you’re laying in your bed with the unnamed girl, your brain not even registering the familiarity of her scent and body.

Opening your eyes ever so slightly, a quiet groan leaving your mouth as your back meets the soft mattress, you see the dark brown hair splayed all over the pillow and arm, dark brown hair you recognized, dark hair that belongs to the only person that you definitely shouldn’t have been in the same bed as.

How in the actual fuck do you get yourself into these predicaments?

There’s honestly no use in pondering, the events from the previous night flooding in almost immediately, nearly like an old movie from when they still used physical rolls of film. Rubbing your eyes, a yawn escapes from between your lips, the relatively early morning combined with the late night culminating in the exhaustion you’re feeling.

It’s difficult to choose whether to stay in bed with the Croatian beauty or get up and check out what the noise had been caused by, in the end the curiosity won out over the comfort of your own bed and the warmth of the basketball player.

Carefully pulling your arm out from under the brunette’s head, you clench and unclench your hand more than a few times to get the blood flow going again, pins and needles returning as you start gaining feeling back in your forearm.

You pause as you hear a small groan coming from Nika, body still as if you were a statue in order to not wake her any further, a small sigh escaping you when she stills completely, seemingly back in the deep sleep she previously had been in.

Tiptoeing to the door, you very carefully push down on the door handle so as to not wake everyone in the building by simply opening your door, opening it a fraction and slipping your body in the space between the door and the frame.  

It’s like she doesn’t hear your heavy footsteps against the floor, because when you round the corner of the living room she’s sitting on your couch, watching some trashy reality tv show and eating sugary cereal you got especially for her. Cereal she wasn’t supposed to eat anywhere else than the kitchen because it would be a pain in the arse to clean up if it got on the cushions or literally anywhere else.

Leaning up against the wall, your arms cross over your chest just like a disappointed parent, looking at the older girl tiredly. Still, her eyes are glued on the tv and the drama being displayed on the screen, barely even blinking in order to not miss anything.

“What are you watching?” Em’s eyes snap to you, a scared look on her face, like she knows that she’s been caught doing something she knows she’s not supposed to do. Her almost pathetic attempt at redemption comes from the small smile she’s sending you, trying to convince you not to scold her.

“Hey Y/n, what’chu doing up already?” She asks despite it being almost lunch time, eyes shifting anywhere but to where you’re standing, and you roll your eyes at her antics. Pushing off the wall, you walk in her direction with decisive steps, flopping down on the couch beside her and sprawling out your limbs, looking like a starfish with your butt hanging half over the edge. 

Em looks at you all weird, not really understanding why you’re not cussing her out for disrespecting your rules, yet she doesn’t say anything, it would be foolish to incite that kind of reaction. Her eyes stay on you for a few more seconds before she turns back to Love Island on the TV, leading her to just feel you get up from the couch again and not see it.

“So what is this show you’re watching?” You ask her all the way from the kitchen, getting your own bowl out of the middle drawer of the cabinet, closing the drawer with your hip and moving towards the refrigerator, pulling on the handle and plucking the carton of milk out of the small bottom compartment of the door. 

Moving back to where your bowl is sitting on the counter, you wait for your best friend to answer the question you posed to her. In the meantime you search for the chocolate cereal you knew you had hidden somewhere in one of the three cupboards in the kitchen. 

“It’s called Love Island, they basically fly out a bunch of boys and girls to a tropical island to humiliate them in front of hundreds of thousands of people.” She pauses for a moment in her explanation, seemingly taking another bite of her cereal. “Boys and girls couple up during the first day there then bombshells come in and they can steal girls or boys that are already coupled up, then there’s the recoupling ceremony where people can choose to couple up with someone else. You’ll get it soon enough.

Pouring your cereal in the bowl, you barely look up from your hands as you multitask, listening to Em explain and fixing your own breakfast. Flooding the cereal with a lake of milk, your fingers wrap around the handle of the top drawer, getting a spoon and putting it in the bowl. 

Carefully walking back towards the sofa where Em is sitting, you make sure to not spill a single drop on your hardwood floors, not wanting another disaster to clean up. In her short time as your best friend, Em had spilled more than you had in your entire life, thankfully she knew to stay away from anything exceptionally expensive.

“So they like, do this willingly?” You ask her, still confused about why people would do that out of their own free will.

“Yeah, you get famous off it sometimes and you win a shitton of money.” She responds through a mouthful of milk and cereal, looking at you through the corner of her eye as you sit down beside her once again, putting your feet up on the coffee table.

The two of you sit in silence after that, the uncharacteristic silence confusing the brunette laying in your bed. In all the time she had spent with the two of you, there had probably been a collective 5 minutes of silence, not counting when either one of you were unconscious.

When Nika wakes up, she’s all alone in the comfortable, but slightly too big bed. Her pounding head reminds her of the night she barely remembers and her aching limbs feel too heavy to move, half lidded eyes peeking around at the sparse decorations around the room, trying to recognise where exactly she was.

The muffled sounds coming from the other side of the door are enough to pique her curiosity, so with quite a bit of effort, she gets out of the bed she’s almost sinking into, swaying on her feet as she moves towards the door.

Using the wall as support, she quietly makes her way towards the living room, the source of the quiet noise. As the light from the open room hits her eyes, she lets out a groan, the headache doubling in painfulness, her now closed eyes failing to pick up the looks she’s getting from the two of you.

A look of pure adoration flashes across your face as Nika practically stumbles into the room, one hand covering her eyes and the other up against the wall, practically holding her up. In your 18 years on earth, you’re more than sure that you’ve never seen something as gorgeous as the girl standing only steps away from you, a realization that was becoming far too normal in your unusually interested mind.

On the other side of the couch, a mischievous look in her eyes that tells you everything you need to know, not that you see it, too focused on Nika to even pay your best friend any mind.

Nika herself doesn’t see either of the looks, too preoccupied with the pounding in her head, simply moving closer to the couch with almost stumbling steps, like a little lamb trying to make its way to the shade.

In the end she has to catch herself more than once before she finally throws herself into the space between you and Em, practically sinking into the couch and disappearing between the cushions.

Emma smirks down at her playfully, pondering on whether to tease her or leave her alone, on very pointed look from you though makes her decision very clear. No teasing allowed apparently, wheat has the world come to.   

There’s a strange type of silence between the three of you, not uncomfortable by any means but still, it was strange.

Nika’s almost asleep again, her head resting comfortably against your arm after she shifted a bit, just enough for her head to come into contact with the muscle of your upper arm.

By the time Nika looks up at you through her lashes, the cereal in your brightly coloured bowl has turned soggy and lost its matte brown color, now an almost pale brownish beige. Disgusting look really, but still kind of tasty.

“Can I have some?” Her puppy dog eyes are very convincing in their own right, that much you’ll admit, but you’re not sure that the unappetising cereal would be any good in terms of nutrition, not even mentioning the cross contamination happening if you were to share the same spoon as well as the milk in the bowl already.

“Really? It’s all soggy.” You look down at her questionably, not even noticing the dramatic eye roll Emma sends you both at the oblivious nature the both of you possessed. In what universe would you and Nika not end up together? Probably in one where her brother actually cared for his girlfriends.

At that moment, Em realizes that she probably would tell this story at your wedding one day in the future, most likely laughing and halfway to being drunk.

“Hey Em, gimmie some of your fruity pebbles.” Clearly, she’s been caught up in her own thoughts for far too long, lifting herself up on the heels of her hands, Em peeks over the edge over your bowl only to see it void of anything that’s not slightly diluted chocolate milk.

Throwing herself back against the cushions with a groan, both you and Nika look at her amused, the shared twinkle in your eyes telling more of a story than Em could ever realize.

“Ugh, I don’t want to get up, you go get it yourself” She rolls her eyes again, completely oblivious to your knowledge of the fact that she had brought her cereal box with her from the kitchen and that it was next to the couch’s armrest.

“Come on Em, you think I don’t know about your little stash? Come on, sharing is caring as Americans would say.” Your playful smile reaches all the way up to the corners of your eyes, and though she would never admit it, Nika’s sure she feels something other than hunger in her stomach after it. 

As Em begrudgingly hands the box over, she doesn’t fail to notice the way your arm slips away from beneath Nika’s head, pouring the sugary cereal into your now shared bowl before handing it back to the shortest of you three, the smooth maneuver you probably didn’t even realize you’d completed results in Nika’s head resting against your chest and your arm slithered around your shoulder.

Even with your seemingly cool, calm and collected demeanor, you’re screaming on the inside, sharing a bowl of fruity pebbles with a gorgeous girl apparently sets every single nerve in your body alight. 

And the worst (best) thing about it is how right it feels, despite it all being so incredibly wrong, her boyfriend (who definitely doesn’t care about her like you do) was probably worried sick about her, you would be.

It’s not right, but damn does it feel good to have her close to you.

Not in a gay way or anything, you try to convince yourself, completely platonic, yep, yep, yep, just purely platonic.

Either way, when the world turns upside down, it’s probably smart to contact the nearest Aussie, after making a mental note to call Cailtin later, you settle into the cushions more, eating a spoonful of sharp and colorful flakes, deciding to simply not care about right and wrong for now and instead just… enjoy yourself.

A comfortable silence takes over the room for the next hour or so, the three of you simply sitting quietly, watching the show and enjoying each other’s company.

Through the screaming and arguing of the contestants on the screen, the loud rumbling of your stomach can be heard. It almost echoes throughout the room.

Both of the older girls turn toward you, almost in unison, at the sound your stomach produces, eyes wide and faces filled with pure and unbridled amusement. You’re filled with embarrassment though, a deep, dark blush covering your cheeks, especially so as Nika reaches up to pinch one of them, like a grandmother would.

“Aw, are you hungry? Let’s go fix you something to eat.” Surprisingly enough, it’s not Em that teases you, but instead Nika, who teasingly pats your stomach before slipping out of your grip and standing up in front of you, holding her hand out for you to take, her silken palm meeting yours in a soft embrace.

With unsurprising strength, Nika pulls you up off the couch and almost drags you with her into the kitchen.

Tucked away in the corner, just beside the fridge, there’s a portable speaker that Nika takes with her unoccupied hand, bringing her other hand away from yours to turn it on, then connecting her phone not long after. Within the span of a couple moments, music starts playing in the kitchen, all types of music flowing out in waves.

Looking on cluelessly as she starts swaying her body along to the beat, Nika almost raids your fridge, seemingly disappointed with what she finds as she frowns and pouts adorably. Looking through your cabinets too, she’s even more disappointed with what she finds, brows now fully furrowed.

She picks up her phone from the counter where she had placed it down only moments before, humming along to the chorus, pressing and swiping and messing around on her phone before she looks up and over the top of it.

“Your address?” She asks, trying not to laugh at the dumbfounded look on your face, your mind clearly not comprehending a single thing she had said.

“What?” She smiles all cutely at you, and you have to try your absolute hardest not to replicate her expression, but in the end it’s simply impossible. Her smile is just so contagious that you can’t help it.

“I need your address, I’m ordering the ingredients.” Telling her you address quickly, you also thank her profusely for the thoughtful act, offering to send her the money for the groceries, to which she simply just waves you off, telling you that it wasn’t necessary.

“So… what do we do now?” You ask her, not noticing the way she’s moving closer to you until her hands grip onto yours, stringing you along as she starts dancing to the r&b song. The beat of the song grips ahold of you just enough to the point where Nika doesn’t have to push and pull on you tp make you dance, your body on autopilot.

“You know I really don’t like to dance.” You tell her, fully confused as she smirks at you, well up until you follow her line of sight down to your lower half, moving like a master, like you’d done it a million times before. “Shut up.” Is the only thing that comes out of your mouth, whispered through playfully pursed lips.

“I did not say anything.” She exclaims, still smiling at you teasingly, and you roll your eyes for what seems to be the millionth time since arriving in America, by now not even caring about the playful teasing.

Nika’s phone buzzes after a few more songs, the text message telling her that the ingredients were at the door.

“Come on, let’s go.” She walks to the hallway with you in tow, seeing her open the door to find a short and stout man on the other side, a thick, white mustache covering his upper lip. You both thank him and he gets a hefty tip before you close the door and basically skip your way into the kitchen, ready for some food.

“What are we making?” You ask her excitedly, almost buzzing with pure anticipation.

“We are making štrukli, it’s from Croatia.” Nodding along to her words, you walk towards the sink to start washing your hands, all whilst Nika starts to unpack all the ingredients and placing them on the counter. Shaking the water off your hands, you soon make your way to the drawer where all your aprons and towels were stored, pulling out the first one you could see and putting it on, absentmindedly tying the strings behind your back.

Looking back up from the floor, you soon see the look Nika’s giving you, half teasing and half plotting. Her eyes trail up and down your body, staying a moment or two extra on your torso before flicking back up to your eyes and then back down again.

Looking down at yourself, you see exactly what’s caught her attention, and the embarrassing print covering the front of the apron spells out a big “Kiss The Cook”, a gift from Lucy who thought she was oh so hilarious, in her mind it was an appropriate gift for a college student.

Your cheeks darken once more, your hand coming up to rub at the back of your neck before you speak.

“Uh yeah, um it was a gift from my older sister, well not my actual older sister, I don’t have one of those, but from my uh, my pseudo-” In your stupor, you had once again not noticed the way Nika was moving closer to you until her unbelievably soft lips were pressed to your cheek, her hands pressing down against your hip bones to push herself up slightly. Heaven was gifted to you in the form of a single moment, a single kiss pressed fleetingly to your cheek by a divine woman with a boyfriend. 

A boyfriend. Fuck.

“So, a kiss for the cook, now we can start.” Just as quick as it happened, Nika moves away from you and towards the sink behind you to wash her hands, leaving you completely dumbfounded, almost convinced that the whole thing had been a dream. She’s a whole dream, nothing that perfect could be attainable in real life.

But as she pats you on your back, you get thrown back into reality, with Nika standing beside you at the counter there’s virtually no chance of a possible escape, not that you’d ever want that either way. She grabs the ingredients, carefully pushing them in front of you both before ordering you to get a bowl. 

The plastic clanks against the counter as you put it down, Nika now ordering you to start making the filling made up of cheese, a pinch of salt, eggs and sour cream, whilst she makes the dough herself.

“This look good enough, boss?” Holding up the mixing bowl in order for her to check the contents, she nods quickly after looking at the mixture for a moment or two, beckoning you over at the same time.

“Alright, you put it on there.” She points to the dough rolled thin on the counter, and you move over as quick as your legs allowed you to, handing her the bowl so that you couldn’t mess everything up. “Like this.” She says, spreading the cheese mixture along the bottom quarter of the dough. Standing right behind her to get a closer look at the process, you peek over her shoulder as she works diligently, strong arms flexing with every single move she makes.

“Usually there would be a… how do you say? Stolnjak… like a cloth.” She rubs her thumb against her pointer and middle finger - almost like she’s asking for you to pay up - before she moves her hand back down towards the counter.

She takes the edge of the dough and starts to push it towards the other edge, making a roll that, at last, ends up in the middle of the counter.

“Plate, please.” She holds her hand up, ready for a plate to be placed between her waiting fingers. You move away from her, and for just a millisecond, Nika misses the warmth your body provided her, being just close enough for your bodies to exchange heat. After finding a plate that you felt was sturdy enough, you place it in between her fingers and wait for what she’s going to use it for.

She turns around briefly to flash her winning smile at you as an inaudible thank you, but then she turns back around and starts to press the plate’s edge against the soft dough, cutting it whilst at the same time sealing the edges off.

“Next steps are secret, go sit with Em.” She looks over her shoulder at you, a mischievous glint in her eye, all before she starts to physically shoo you away and out of the kitchen, even going as far as to start pushing against your chest to get you to go back to the living room.

Feet shuffling against the floor, you look back towards the kitchen sneakily, trying to get a sneak peek of the so-called secret step, only to be met with a middle finger and a playful smile paired with a knowing look.

Jumping over the back of the couch, you settle down into the couch with your back resting against the arm rest and your feet resting in Em’s lap. She looks at them disgusted, like she hadn’t done the exact same thing a hundred different times before.

“First you steal my cereal, then you put your disgusting feet in my lap, where are your manners?” She asks, playful annoyance coating every word coming out of her mouth, shaking her head almost like she’s disappointed in you. 

“First of all, I paid for that cereal, so it’s mine, secondly I have socks on, no cross contamination.” You smile cheekily at her, shrieking when she pokes the underside of your foot, extremely ticklish. Something Em really wasn’t supposed to know.

“Ticklish huh, now we’ll see who really owns that cereal.” Her statement makes no sense at all, but you don’t have any time to ponder over it as she throws herself onto you, starting to tickle your sides before you start to gain control, flipping her over and letting the wrestling commence.

Knocking over the empty bowls standing on the coffee table, it seems like Nika finally notices the childish nature of playing happening in the living room, her accented voice being heard all across the apartment.

“Children, stop it before you break something.” The both of you stand up almost immediately, going into the military salute position, throwing yourselves back onto the couch when she giggles at the pure silliness of the apparent adults standing only a couple meters away from her. Well you were barely even legal, but that’s a problem for another day.

Em’s eyes widen once more when she sees the print on the apron you’re still wearing, going back into mischievous mode in less than a second. 

“Ooooh, did the chef get the kiss?” She teases simply, and you try your hardest to keep the poker face, even going as far as to start coughing to have a reason for the blush that’s surely covering your cheeks by now, but of course that only makes you more suspicious. “Wait, actually?” She leans over towards you, shock displayed all over her face.

“No, she kissed me on the cheek, you know, like friends do?” Pushing her face away from yours with your hand, Em starts making kissy faces from the other side of the couch, by now neither of you are paying attention to the program on the tv, just focussed on annoying the other as much as possible.

“How come I don’t get any of that honey?” She teases, leaning closer again this time to pretend to kiss you on the cheek, before you once again push her away.

“Shut up” Crossing your arms across your chest, you signal that you’re done with the conversation, Em like always, continues on with her antics, but you don’t pay her any mind, the older girl finally shutting up like you asked her after a while.

With the both of you slowly being pulled back into the show that is love island, there’s no way that you notice Nika’s nearing figure until she’s standing right in front of the tv, somehow holding three plates of steaming food.

“Lunch is served.” Her proud smile is adorable and you actually have to prevent yourself from aww-ing at it, which is harder than it may seem. As she hands you your plate, your stomach rumbles loudly again which lets you know that it’s time to eat.

The first bite tastes like pure love, and you can’t help the loud groan from escaping through your lips, a pure home cooked meal differing from the plain rice and chicken that you’d had for lunch practically since you arrived in America. 

“This is so good, you did such a good job.” Looking at Nika sincerely, it’s difficult not to notice the growing smile on her face after your words, even as she moves closer to sit down between you and Em, the smile stays on her beautiful face. She smiles a lot. That’s a good thing, you decide, a person with a smile as gorgeous as that shouldn’t hide it.

“We.” She reminds you, after a second or two, a fond look in her eye that you hadn’t seen before, it’s kind of like the way parents looked at their kids in the movies when they got good grades or something. Yeah, no, probably not that. “We both made it, and you’re right, we did a hell of a good job.”

Em nods in agreement at the statement, not as thrilled to be, what she deems as third wheeling as someone might think, if only she had stayed home last night. Last night, the party, getting drunk beyond belief, bumping into Nika and one of her basketball buddies, Party P, getting pulled into more than one beer pong game, nearly passing out and then waking up to Nika using her phone, to then falling asleep just before getting woken up, insulting your pjs and then getting driven home. Wait.

“Oh shit.” Em says just before springing up off the couch in a panic, both you and Nika’s eyes following the cartoonish action, Nika far more concerned than you, simply based on the fact that she 

isn’t practically living with the… enthusiastic girl. Em exclaims shit like that once every half an hour normally.

“Oh shit what?” The brunette asks, hoping to get a ‘I forgot my homework’ oh shit rather than a “I dropped my phone in the toilet” oh shit. 

“I fucking forgot that I left my car back at the school. We have to go get it.” She exclaims, almost running for the door as Nika stands up slowly, looking at you unimpressed as you lean back into the cushions. 

“What?” You ask innocently, like you can’t figure out why she’s looking at you in the way she is on your own. Taking another bite, Nika sighs and rolls her eyes before she once again sticks her hand out for you to pull yourself up with.

“You know I have to get home too, I can’t stay here forever.” She says, raising her eyebrows when you practically ignore her in favor of watching the show on the tv. Stepping so that she’s blocking your line of sight, her eyes staying on you until you actually get up. “Come on.”

“But the drive-” You start off, almost whining to the obviously amused girl, who just starts to beckon you over to where she’s now standing halfway across the apartment in the hall.

“But the drive nothing, if you don’t want Em to drive your precious baby.” She teases, getting startled when you zoom past her, just barely remembering to grab your keys off the hook before absolutely legging it down to the bottom floor. Unbeknownst to you, Nika takes her time and puts the dishes in the sink just to make it a little easier for you before she carefully slips her shoes on. 

Looking around the hall, she soon sees the spare house keys hanging off a hook not far from the hook your car keys hung on just a moment before. Just as the tall brunette exits out the front door, the door just beside yours also opens and an adorable dog jumps onto her, all excited and puppylike despite clearly not being a puppy.

“Who are you? Oh you’re so cute.” Nika coos at the slobbering dog, getting up from the ambush to kneel in front of him, scratching just behind his fluffy ear. He lays down on the ground, showing his stomach for loads of belly scratches.

“That’s Bubba, he’s just a little eccentric.” The old woman standing in front of her reaches out for her hand, bringing Nika up from the floor and leaving her own dog whining for more bellyrubs. “He’s a big baby. You’re one of Y/n’s friends? I haven’t seen you ‘round before.”

Nika nods her head quickly, introducing herself to the lady with the cutest dog ever.

“Yeah I’m dating Emma’s brother, but yeah we’re friends. I’m Nika.” She smiles, and the old woman replicates her actions. There’s an almost standstill for a moment before the gray haired woman sighs, looking at her amused.

“Alright now, if you’re ever having any problems with them knuckleheads, don’t be ‘fraid to knock and I’ll fix it right up for ya. And I just want to tell you how gorgeous you are, my god you are something else.” With that, the old woman leaves with her fluffy dog and her tiny red pure that Nika hadn’t noticed before.

Shrugging, Nika turns around and locks the door before making her way down to the lobby, walking out the door only to see you and Em basically wrestling on the ground in front of your garage. She rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, walking over with sure steps to deliver steady slaps to the backs of both your heads.

“Ouch.” Rubbing the backs of your heads, both you and Em follow after Nika as she makes her way to sit in the passenger seat, Emma groaning at the action like she even had a chance at shotgun in the first place.

“Y’all are idiots sometimes, you know that?” She says, waiting for the key to be inserted into the ignition so that the car can be started, and her words make you roll your eyes sassily. There’s always a bit of sass in you.

“Come on, bro let’s just go.” Em sits in the middle seat, poking her head forth between the front seats, using her elbow to nudge Nika in the ribs. Not that it would make any difference, since you were the one driving and not her.

Driving out of the garage, your precious baby of a car rumbles in that familiar way, the pebbles on the ground crackling under the weight of the car.

“Let’s get some life up in here.” Em exclaims after a few minutes of quiet driving, the sound of the engine mixed with the air coming from the vents clearly not satisfying the older girl. Unbuckling her seatbelt, Em leans forward and turns the radio on, the volume high like it’s supposed to be.

“Sit down Emma, are you trying to get us killed?” You ask, half joking and half serious, the surprising action from the girl in the backseat having startled you only moments before. The click of the seatbelt sounds behind the loud music, a reassurance that she indeed did not aim to be killed.

“Shush, enjoy my company kiddo instead of complaining.” Em smiles mischievously at you through the rearview mirror, leaning back into the seat and putting her hands together over her stomach.

“Oh so I’m kiddo now?” You look back at her briefly with the trademark ‘really?’ look, turning your eyes back to the road so as to not put everyone in danger. Nika giggles beside you, and it catches your attention quicker than you’d ever admit, not that you’d ever admit to most things, especially those involving Nika. Not that there was anything about her to admit in the first place, you tell yourself in your head, right.

“Would you rather be grumpy?” You hear Em’s accusing tone shining through the loud music in the background, and you can imagine the expression on her stupid face, with raised brows and an idiotic look.

Deciding to stay quiet in order to not give her any more ammunition, it seemingly gives her a lot more than you would have thought.

“Thought so.” She sticks her tongue out at you through the rearview mirror and you can’t help but shake your head in amusement, deciding to just let her be.

During the next hour, your car turns into a concert hall as Nika and Em sing along to the songs on the radio, and you catch yourself smiling at their silliness more than once, especially as they start singing to each other like they were in a band.

And to everyone’s surprise, you had even joined in a few times.

Luckily enough for Em, nothing had happened to her old ass car by the time you had dropped her off, except for the fact that it was 23 years old and that the paint was chipping in various places, the car seemed fine enough. 

Driving off in the direction Nika had pointed in, you flip Em the bird just for fun as you pass her by and she sends you one right back, all before Nika slaps the back of your head, calling you a child lovingly.

“Okay, right here and then you can park there.” Nika points to a spot right outside of the dorm building as you pull up in front of it, looking around you carefully as you park, there’s no way you would ever risk damaging your car.

Pulling the keys out of the ignition, you get out of the car at the same time as Nika does, locking up and checking it once, then twice and then thrice, just to be sure. Looking up, you see the unimpressed look the girl at the other side of the car is giving you, and you send her a sheepish smile in return.

“You care more about that car than you do your apartment.” Nika says just as you round the corner of the car, sidling up beside her as you two walk shoulder to shoulder towards the entrance of the building, the code to the door being put in before either of you can make your way into the building.

Looking around the entrance, there’s really not a lot to comment on, a couple of security cameras and some sort of guard sitting by the door. Well protected at least. 

“Come, we need to get upstairs.” The Croatian beauty takes your hand and pulls you in the direction of a set of stairs leading up to, what you presumed to be floors and floors of rooms. 

Following her up the stairs, it doesn’t take long for Nika to stop in front of a door, presumably the door to her dorm. She leans down and fiddles with something, somehow managing to produce a keychain from the small space, leaving you completely perplexed.

“How did you just-” She shakes her head amusedly, almost telling you to not even ask just with a simple look. “You’re magic, you know?”

“Thank you, but I’m really not, at most I can hocus pocus my way into some free drinks.” Nika says as she winks playfully at you, pushing her key into the lock without hearing the thumping footsteps coming from the inside of the dorm, too distracted by the dark red blush suddenly covering your cheeks.

As she tugs on the handle and opens the door, Nika’s tackled to the ground by a mystery girl, someone who’s clearly quite excited.

“NIKAAAAA, twin where have you been? I was literally posted up in here last night waiting for you.” The mystery girl gets up off the brunette, pulling her up and off the floor just a moment later, not even noticing you standing just a few decimeters away.

“You know how it is Paige, making the most out of the last of the off-season.” Nika responds to the blonde you now know to be Paige. Rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, you almost leave without saying goodbye, seeing as your job was done, you had walked her home.

“Whose clothes are these? I know they ain’t yours.” You can hear the blonde, Paige, speak up again, and you see her tug at the corner of the t-shirt that clearly wasn’t Nika’s, seeing as it was a t-shirt you’d gotten for winning some tournament for England’s U21 team not too long ago.

Nika looks back at you for just a second or two, before she’s waving you over to where the two of them were standing not too far away. Walking closer cautiously, you look at Nika, almost asking her “what should I do?” through your gaze.

“Who’s this?” The blonde asks Nika, looking at you skeptically, not judging you but instead wondering who you were.

“You know Cal has a little sister, right? This is her best friend,” Nika starts off looking at Paige before she turns towards you, looking at you intensely as she speaks. “I mean we’re pretty good friends too, right kid?” She teases, and you groan loudly at the nickname, not wanting it to spread further than it already had. You’re not a kid, but to others you might as well be an infant.

“I’m not a child.” The playfully groaned words seem to take the blonde by surprise, for some reason you can’t fathom.

“Whoa, I was not expecting that accent.” She exclaims, looking at you with a huge smile on her face and a glint in her eye that you know you had seen before.

“Most people don’t, it’s quite weird actually.” You look at her as you speak, a small smile appearing across your lips. Shrugging, there’s really no telling why people didn’t expect that accent, but it happened often enough for you to probably need a shirt announcing the fact that you were not American. As if. 

“I’m Y/n Y/l/n, a friend of Nika’s and her boyfriend’s little sister.” Sticking your hand out for her to shake, Paige does so with the confidence you’d seen shine through in her interactions with Nika. 

“I’m Paige, Nika’s best friend.” Letting go of your hand, the blonde smiles mischievously, in a fashion that suggests that she does it all the time, and based purely on the way Nika rolls her eyes playfully, you’re sure she does.

“Nice to meet you, I should be going though, can’t have Em getting home before me.” Shrugging softly, you turn around to walk away from the two, but the brunette doesn’t let you get too far away before she takes hold of your hand once again, pulling you around to face her.

“I think I forgot my clothes at your place.” She tells you, an adorable frown on her cute face.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll just bring them ‘round next time.” You wave her concerns off with the simple promise, keeping eye contact all throughout the interaction, not daring to look away from her captivating gaze.

“Next time?” She looks at you almost confused, but not really at the same time, there’s something about her that’s just so difficult to read. Maybe you’ll learn sometime, maybe.

“Yeah, next time.” You respond determinedly, of course you wanted to see her again, as soon as possible, you’re friends and you want to see your friends. As much as you want to see Nika again, the call of home is getting louder second by second and you know you can’t leave Em alone outside your door, waiting to get in as if she hasn’t gotten her own key to your place.

“You wanna see me again?” Nika smiles all mysteriously, raising her eyebrows slightly as if she was surprised before she moves her hand, that you just now realize is still connected to your own, uup to tuck the strand of hair falling down into her line of sight. Before either of you realize what’s happened, you’ve reached up and tucked it behind her ear, not even thinking twice about the usually intimate gesture. 

Not even seeing the light blush dusting the brunette’s cheekbones, you continue on with your conversation as if nothing happened, which in your mind was true, there was nothing there at all, right?

“Of course I want to see you again, we’re friends dummy.” The american lingo has clearly started to catch on as you start sounding like some idiot in those cliche american rom-coms that Leah always made you watch with her.

“Okay then, next time.” With that, the girl turns back around to face Paige, who looks at her in a way that you can’t decipher, the both of them disappearing back into the apartment. Shrugging, you start on your walk down the stairs, trudging down the steps until you come down to the first floor, walking out the front door after giving a polite nod to the guard thingy sitting there.

“Y/N!” You can hear your name shouted as you walk towards your car and you turn around, looking up to see Nika waving at you through the open window.

Turning your whole body around to face the building, you wave back at the woman enthusiastically before you turn back around to walk to your car.

Sitting down in the driver's seat, you inhale a deep breath before exhaling smoothly, emptying your lungs of as much air as possible. The headlights light up as you turn the car on, pulling out from in front of the building and onto the small slithering roads leading to the motorway.

The calm drive home isn’t interrupted by anything thankfully, the music from the radio playing softly in the background providing a nice backtrack as the repetitive motions of driving continue all the way until you’re parked back in your garage just outside your apartment building.

Going through everything that you have to do when you get back inside in your mind, you’re almost on autopilot, locking up outside before putting in the code at the door and then taking the elevator up.

The doors slide open, only for Em to be nowhere to be found, seemingly having disappeared into thin air. Eh maybe she’s finally at her own place, you think as you go to open the door of your apartment, suspiciously finding it unlocked.

That is until you remember that you’d run out before without locking so that would make a lot of sense.

Kicking off your shoes just as you come in, there’s a murmur coming from your kitchen, people seemingly speaking in hushed tones. Em was clearly not at home at all, maybe Mrs Peters had invited herself over again. 

Walking further into the apartment, you take out your phone just to check to see if you have any new texts, unconsciously walking towards the kitchen and the low voiced chitchat. Opening up the Instagram app, you scroll through your feed for a few seconds before Em’s voice cuts through the now silent air.

“What took you so long?” She asks jokingly, but there was a sort of seriousness underlying in her tone, the thing that makes you grimace, Emma is never serious. Standing just in the doorway of the kitchen, you lean onto the pillar-like structure casually, not noticing anything being out of the ordinary.

“Oh you know how it is, Nika wanted me to-” Looking up in the middle of your sentence, your jaw drops open in shock, eyebrows shooting to your hairline and phone crashing to the ground. “No way.”

“Hey kiddo.”

[mapileonxputellas]

Beckham II: 2 That Day

Part 2 is here!!!!!

Short one for this part but I think some context is needed before I bring us back to the present day!

Hope you enjoy! Also in this the third place game doesn't exist.

(Part 1 can be found here x)

2nd July 2019, England vs USA, World Cup Semi-final

25th minute – 1 - 1

“This is a real battle out there isn’t it Sue?” Jonathon Pearce broadcasted to the UK, all eyes on the England team trying to defeat the US. Though they had gone behind very early on, an Ellen White leveller had brought them back onto even terms.

“It certainly is, you can see how much this means to all the players out there. None of this England team have ever experienced an occasion like this before but they seem to be carrying that emotion well.”

Out on the field it felt like an out of body experience. Before this the biggest game you’d played in would have to be a substitute appearance in an FA cup final, now you were starting the semi final at a World Cup. You were 19 and felt like the whole world was watching you.

At the start of the tournament you hadn’t been expecting to start but when Jill Scott picked up an injury in the round of 16 you’d stepped into the starting position next to Keira and never looked back. Receiving praise back at home for the level-headed game you played but still managed to bring out that touch of David Beckham in you.

It was a free-kick in the quarter-final that really brought you to the forefront of the nation. A slick ball which soared into the top corner of the net leaving their goalkeeper stranded and left everyone open-mouthed at home. You were never a nobody but now you were here to stay. Your Instagram following doubled and whenever you left the hotel in the past week the camera had never left you. The pressure was on.

“Fucking hell.” You swore coming up to take a corner for England nestled into the corner of the ground flooded with US fans.

“Nepotism trash!” “Daddy not here to hold your hand!” “Can’t even kick a ball!” “Weak!” “Spineless!”

The insults were flying in from every angle, everything was covered in the thirty seconds you had to wait to take the corner, of course your dad was mentioned but so was your appearance in the media. Newly turned 19 and yet it seemed like you were still the five-year-old girl who had her father carry her everywhere. Everyone just presumed you were an innocent little baby who couldn’t put in a tackle, you hated it.

But now was not the time to let that frustration out. Now was game time when nothing else mattered.

Your in-swinging corner found Millie on the edge of the 6-yard box but she couldn’t quite get the connection on it to trouble Naeher, instead giving her an easy catch but you could feel it coming.

The only problem is now there was now a break on. A quick release from the goalkeeper had set Lavelle free, Keira had stayed back but you couldn’t leave her one on one with Morgan in the centre.

You had one second to make a decision.

One second to work out how to stop her. You could try and get further back but you knew you had to stop it at source.

You were known for your pace so you had no trouble getting back to her but Lavelle was known for her trickery and skill.

In your head you made the best decision you could. You followed the rules you played football by and trusted your instinct.

That was where the world as you knew it slowly began to fade away.

“Oh that’s a nasty one from Beckham there and Lavelle seems seriously hurt.”

You thought it was clean, in fact you were sure of it. The contact with the ball was clear sending it flying out of play, you didn’t touch her other than her leg coming into yours as she came over the top of you and yet as she rolled around on the floor it was like the opposite had happened.

Suddenly you were surrounded by players in red, all screaming at you. “What the fuck did you do that for?” “Learn that one from your daddy did you?”

Millie came to stand in front of you, trying to block you from the players as Steph and Lucy surrounded the others at the referee.

“She didn’t touch her.” Millie defended you. “Tell your own player to stop cheating.”

You thought that would be the end of it. Tempers flared, emotions were high and you would get on with the match again. When the referee reached into her pocket you were convinced it was to calm everyone down, a booking usually helped to send a message out but when you saw it was red and it was flashed in your direction it was like time stopped.

“It’s a red card for Beckham, just like her father that name has once again come back to haunt England.” Jonathon commentated. “It’s a long way back for them here.”

You couldn’t believe what was happening. “Go and have a look yourself.” Millie shouted at the ref to overcome the noise in the stadium. “It was a clean tackle, she didn’t touch her.”

“The contact was enough to endanger the opponent. It’s reckless, dangerous and that it is a red card.”

“VAR has got to overturn this.” Sue Smith pointed out. “She’s nowhere near her opponent, it’s not even a yellow card.”

“When you make a challenge like that you bring about a decision from the ref.”

“But that’s what VAR is here for, to show the referee what actually happened. Beckham has arguably been one of the players of the tournament and yet she could be remembered for just this moment.”

It could have been minutes, it must only have been thirty seconds that you stood there. Waiting for some to tell you it had all been a big mistake. Apologies would come and you’d be able to restart the game.

Instead VAR confirmed the red card. You’d been sent off in the most important game you’d ever played in, maybe would ever play in.

This time though it felt like the impact hit you immediately, looking back it was probably the reason you hated showing any emotion now. Your teammates tried to comfort you as the tears started to come but the guilt was already too much, you couldn’t bare to be around anyone right now so pulling your shirt over your face you walked back inside. Every step towards that sideline felt like you were wading through quick sand, the boos from the US side ringing in your ear as you tried to head to the tunnel.

Before the match had begun your brother had FaceTime’d you, at the time you imagined looking up at them at the final whistle, perhaps celebrating with them. Now you couldn’t face looking where you knew they would be sat. The disappointment from yourself was too much to handle right now never mind disappointing your idol, your father.

You can vaguely remember Karen Carney coming out to meet you on the touchline, a kiss being pressed to your head and a little muttering of “keep it together” in your ear. Maybe it was for the best that everyone else was busy trying to reshuffle the pack a few sympathetic faces were thrown your way but you knew football didn’t have time for sentiment. Maybe it was also for the best that Phil didn’t even look your way, your favourite kitman met you to head back into the changing rooms with you but the rest didn’t even bat an eyelid at you.

It was only when you got inside, when you were all alone that the emotion fully came out.

The anger, the pure sadness, the hatred you felt towards yourself. It started that day and it felt then like you’d received a life sentence. A life sentence hating yourself.

……

“Phil, a lot happened out there today. Can you tell us your overriding emotions right now?”

“Oh I’m just proud of every dingle girl out there who competed to the very end. They gave it their all tonight and this result shouldn’t tarnish their pride in themselves or in each other. They stuck in the game when it seemed like other people threw it away.”

“We can’t shy away from Y/N Beckham, what were your thoughts?”

“As football players we know that every tackle we put in can lead to a card and she made that decision. It’s hard because I know the talent is in there but talent can’t be everything.”

“Do you think it should have been a red?”

“Like I said the referee was put in a position where she had to make the decision. We can all wish for different outcomes on the pitch but sometimes we just have to accept them.”

“How is she doing now?”

“As a team we are all very disappointed right and I think it’s the team we should be focusing on right now.”

“Fucking bullshit.” If this was your own bedroom perhaps you would have thrown the remote at the TV, instead you calmly had to just turn it off.

Maybe it wasn’t the best decision to turn on the TV when you got back to the hotel room. England had lost in the end, going 2-1 down to an Alex Morgan winner, they’d given it there everything but it just wasn’t enough.

In the two hours since the game finished you couldn’t count the number of times you’d cried. Firstly on your own, then with some of the girls, then on your own again on the bus and yet not a single word had been said. You knew you’d never be able to say sorry enough times and they knew it was no use telling you anything right now. Though you were crying it was almost as if you were blank inside, you couldn’t take in anything else right now. Your usual spot on the bus next to Keira was left vacant, instead you found a little corner and tried to kid yourself and other that you were asleep when how could you be with all the thoughts swirling in your mind.

Your phone lay switched off on the other side of the room, that interview being the first real insight you’d got into any opinions on the matter. He was right, he might not have said it outright but it was obvious he blamed you. When Phil brought you in for your first senior camp fans were concerned about favouritism but if anything it was the opposite. He had this almost saintly view of your dad and you would never be anything compared to him.

You knew he would be worried, he tried to protect you from everything growing up but now he was powerless. Yet even knowing that you couldn’t bring yourself to switch the phone on, answer any of the messages or calls you’d received before you turned it off on the couch.

It was all too much.

…..

The plan was always for you to spend the 2 weeks you had off after the weekend in the south of France, a quaint villa in the middle of nowhere which you’d had since you were a child. This place was one of the only true places you could just be yourself. You could vividly remember the holidays there once a year being the only time you felt truly free. Your father would spend every second of the day just being a father and your mother could show you her true self, the fun and carefree woman she was away from the pressures of the public eye. This was the place where yourself, Brooklyn and Romeo would spend hours on the beach with a ball and jumpers for goalposts, where you all taught Cruz to ride a bike and Harper to swim. This place meant so much to you.

It felt wrong to tarnish this place with the thoughts you had right now.

That’s why when you touched down in London the following day instead of rushing back to your apartment to pack and meet your family at the airport, you sat, staring at the clock. Time passed, they would have waited for you to arrive and slowly realised you weren’t coming. They would probably be worried and it was for that reason only that you finally turned your phone on. The messages flooded onto your lock screens, dozens of missed calls came through but you ignored them all simply sending a message to your mum claiming you were fine and didn’t want any company right now, only one of those statements being true.

Maybe you should have expected the phone call that immediately came up from your father but they also should have expected your immediate response, decline.

You always thought you were quite strong about the media. You’d grown up with famous parents, you sadly were used to comments about every aspect of yourself from your appearance to the way you spoke. In your time at Chelsea you’d had your fair share of stick from the fans about your place in football but before this you’d proved everyone wrong.

People called you dumb, you passed all your exams and were studying part time for a degree.

People commented on your appearance, your friends and family’s comments opposed that.

United fans taunted you in an FA cup match, you stuck the ball in the top corner and celebrated right in front of them.

All those times you’d known they were wrong and could do something about it. All that media training and yet in that moment you broke the number one rule and opened Twitter.

The results were more horrendous than you ever could have imagined. Not only were there comments about your performance, but they also came for your family, your friends, yourself. The death threats were constant, every other comment on an article link were suggesting this was punishable in unimaginable ways.

Instagram though more concentrated felt worse when you checked a post from your best friend outside of football, comments were left under her post for even just being associated with your name. Taunting her, taunting you and threatening the both of you. Not only had you disappointed everyone but now you were putting those you loved in danger.

Leaving Instagram, blurry eyed and shaking like a leaf, twitter was opened once again. You couldn’t stop and the more articled you read, the more the panic started to set in. People knew where you lived from media pictures, it wouldn’t be long before they came here again. You lived in a gated community but they’d find a way in. You’d never be alone.

Your throat was closing in, it was becoming harder to breath as you panicked more. The only thing you could do was phone the only person who would understand.

“Dad…. dad I need you.”

……

Everyone probably thinks they have the best family but in this moment you knew yours were the best. Thirty minutes on from that phone call you were in your old family living room, curled up in blankets next to your mum and dad, eating homemade chocolate cake and listening to your sister talk you through her week. The biggest drama in which being a girl who took the last apple juice carton and left her with orange juice, which to an eight-year-old felt like the end of the world.

You hadn’t even said another word on that phone call before your dad was ordering you to pack a bag and promised he would be with you in less than ten minutes.

“Why didn’t you go to France?” Your thoughts came out. “We were meant to go.”

“Like we were ever going to leave you here alone,” Your dad chastised you. “I know you well enough to know you might not have needed us in that moment but we were always going to be there when you did.”

“I didn’t mean to do anything, I thought I made the right decision and now people are threatening me. They’re going to find me.”

“They’re not.” Your mother immediately comforted you. “I’ve watched enough football over the years to know tackles like that are made every week and they never get punished. Football is a game, you live for it but it’s a game and people sometimes forget that. You were a big reason England even got to the semi-final and people need to remember that.”

“What did your teammates say?” Brooklyn asked from the next sofa with my other brothers.

“I haven’t spoken to them.”

“What? You flew home with them this morning.”

“I can’t look at them. They’re all sad because of me, everyone knows it, they were always on the back foot because of me and now they’re going home.”

“Millie messaged me this morning.” Brooklyn said. You were of course very close to the Chelsea girls and they’d met your family more times than you could count. You remember they exchanged numbers before you went away on a summer camp one year just in case they needed to contact your family. “She asked me to look after you, they’re not upset.”

“They’ll never admit it, at least not to my face but how can I play with them again after all this.”

“They’re your friends.” Your mum implored and she was right. You were the youngest in the world cup but yourself Leah, Keira and Georgia had formed a little England squad bond. Your sensible and often shy nature balancing out their craziness.

“They’re better off without me. I need to get out of here.”

“Out of where?”

“Out of England, I can’t stay.”

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

good morning!! it's @henderdads' birthday!!!! happy happy happy birthday to youuuu cass!!!

The minute Eddie Munson turned 18, he could see it; the only color he would see until he and his soulmate kissed for the first time.

Yellow.

Rays and rays of warm yellow sunshine, the middle light (and middle light only) of the one stoplight in town, one half of their school colors, the dandelions spotted agross the grass between the trailers, the stubborn daffodils that keep reappearing in Ms. Wilson’s garden though she’s long since passed…

The half-toned things he’s told are green, half yellow, half blue, and that he got lucky his soulmate’s favorite color wasn’t black or gray (then he felt glad he’d settled on a different color than either of those by time he was older, he didn’t want to subject his soulmate to more black and white..

After Steve Harrington turns 18, he can see the color of the lipstick his mom wore in their last family portrait, the color of the punch that gets spilled all over Nancy’s shirt at Tina’s halloween party, the stripes and piping on his godforsaken Scoops uniform, the red of his own blood rushing down the drain beneath his feet.

The dark tone puddled beneath Eddie’s limp body in the Upside Down.

The same color splashed onto Dustin’s arms and legs.

Pressing his hands into it to stop it from spreading, to start it flowing again, Steve presses his lips to Eddie’s once…he hasn’t done CPR since he worked at the pool….twice…”C’mon man, don’t leave him like this.”....

The third time is when it happens.

The feeble beat of Eddie’s heart starting again, the push of breath into his lungs, the sudden flood of cool, dark colors around them. 

“Eddie? Eddie! C’mon man, stay with me.”

It looks like it takes a herculean effort to do so, but Eddie’s eyes open. “H–hey, Harrington. Wh–”

“I’m going to pick you up now, Ed,” Steve says, doing just that, tucking Eddie into his chest and starting for the trailer. “El is keeping the gate open for us but we gotta hurry.”

The four of them manage to get him out through the gate and into the RV, this time with Nancy behind the wheel. 

Having to let him go at the doors to the ER is one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, but he manages, Robin telling him over and over again that she’d already called Eddie’s Uncle and that he’d be safe.

While they’re waiting, filthy and exhausted but victorious nonetheless, Nancy says to him: “It’s blue, by the way. The…everything down there has some sort of blue tinge to it.”

Steve doesn’t ask how she knew, just appreciates that he can look at something and she’ll tell him the name of the color. 

The pattern of the chairs is orange and purple, the plant in the corner is green (“All plants are some shade of it for the most part.”), the wallpaper is his favorite though.

“It’s yellow.”

“I guess I know what color Eddie’s been seeing the past few years..” It’s the first and last thing he says until Wayne Munson comes to get them.

“You three need’ta be looked at too. Not jus’ Henderson.”

He leads them back to a room, and Steve recognizes Dr. Owens there waiting for them.

They get looked over, they get cleaned up, and Steve gets a shot of something that’s supposed to help stave off anything those flying rats may have given him.

And for the next week, he stays. 

He and Wayne maintain a constant vigil at Eddie’s bedside. Wayne leaves for his shifts when he has to, Steve is allowed to stay because of his soulmate status, and Eddie wakes up a little more than a week later.

Wayne had left a couple hours ago, so Steve will have to call him at the plant but first: “Steve?” Eddie manages to croak out when his eyes crack open the first time.

“Hey Eds, welcome back to the world of the living.”

Eddie shuts his eyes and huffs a laugh, then cringes, “Still painful as always, I see.”

“Oh yeah? What else do you see?”

Steve watches his brow furrow as he tries to make sense of the question, watches as he opens his eyes again, a bit further this time, and when they widen in amazement as they travel around the room.

“What–? What the hell..?” The heightened beeping of his heart monitor makes Steve feel almost giddy, getting to watch him see this for the first time. “What nurse kissed me while I was out?” He pauses, staring down a painting of colorful wildflowers on the opposite wall before turning back to Steve. “And can they come back so I can get more pain meds?”

Steve chuckles as he stands stiffly from the hospital chair he’d been all but glued to for the last week, reaching over Eddie’s head to press the call button.

“What’s so funny?”

“You, of course.”

“Thank you, I try, but what’d I do this time?”

“It wasn’t a nurse, Eds.”

Eddie blinks at him for a moment, confused, “I don’t quite have the brainpower for riddles, Stevie.”

Steve’s stomach flips at the nickname, “It wasn’t a nurse, it was when we were still in the—down there.” he pauses, feeling suddenly embarrassed. Did Eddie want it to be him? His first assumption was one of the nurses… “Someone had to give you CPR.”

He watches as Eddie scrolls through what he can only assume is a roster of their “Team Vecna”; Nancy? It’s been known that she’s been able to see in full color since she and Jonathan got together. Dustin? Yeah..no. Ro–

“And it wasn’t Robin.” Steve says when he sees Eddie’s lips curl into an ‘R’.

“Then who—”

It dawns on him at the same time the summoned nurse arrives with a new shot of whatever it is he needs.

She leaves with an excited “We’ll call Wayne!”, and Eddie drops his head back to his pillow.

Steve’s stomach twists anxiously. “Eddie?”

“So you’re telling me that the one and only Steve Harrington gave me the kiss of life and also the gift of colorvision, and I wasn’t conscious enough to experience it properly?”

Steve ducks his head, scratching behind his ear nervously. “Uh…yeah…? Sorry Eddi–”

“Can you do it again?”

His head snaps up again, “Huh?”

“And preferably before I lose the battle for my consciousness?”

Eddie’s face is soft and open, a smile quirking the pink of his lips and crinkling those dark eyes of his…Who is Steve to tell him no?

He smiles softly in return and stands.

Leaning forward with his weight braced to one side of Eddie’s head, the other hand coming up to cup his uninjured cheek, Steve kisses him properly for the first time.

The first of many many many more to come.

eeee i hope you liked this little thing!!! i've never written anything w soulmates before!! 🥹 i hope you have the most bestest day today, friend!! 🫶🫶

[marypaol]

Tension in Potion-Making

Draco x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Insecurity, jealously, possessive personality, that’s all :)

Summary: Reader and Draco have been friends since early childhood, and something stirs between them when asked to make Amortentia.

Note: For the wonderful

@just-another-reader1098

I don’t know why I struggled writing this, I deleted so much with the ending and re-wrote a bunch of options. I didn’t know how you wanted angst involved and I’m sorry I didn’t put as much as probably desired. I hope you enjoy it anyways and thank you so much for requesting!

Masterlist

___

The girl couldn’t remember her life before Draco, like he was a person that was meant to enter her life and guide her towards the right direction. Or he just happened to join her life story and happened to impact it so much.

Whatever the reason may be he was always there, either lingering in the back of her mind or by her side to make snarky remarks or complaints. She was used to it by now, however, having dealt with his attitude for years on end that nothing was new to her. If only she could replay their life together like a movie film she would then take the time to recognize what she truly had. She was beyond grateful for the boy, he kept her sane and whenever someone dared to bother her they would quickly realize who they were messing with.

Their friendship was a linger in memory ever since then but it didn’t ever die, nor did it go back to the way it was. They were kids, little mindless kids that didn’t know that being friends who goofed around and shoved chocolate frogs in their mouths would have such an impact on their lives.

She wouldn’t change one thing about it though, oh Merlin no, because it wouldn’t prove the development they’ve had over the years. Development meaning lingering touches and long glances but nothing strong enough to confront each other about.

That was the way she felt until one day in which she thought would be normal. She didn’t expect not only to be sharing Potions with the Gryffindors, but to be making the most powerful love Potion in existence.

“This is ridiculous.” Draco muttered when Snape informed them.

“I don’t see the purpose of this stupid Potion anyway; it’s not like I’m going to smell anything.” He snarled. “Like how does the House Cup have a scent?”

She kept in her laugh, shaking her head. “No, Draco. It’s about love and your deepest attraction… showing your deepest desire for an unknown person…I wonder who I’m going to smell.” She said, not being able to help but think of the possibilities.

Draco scoffed at the dream-like tone she was using, looking over at her from his cutting board.

“You? Smelling anyone? Oh please, I doubt someone would even smell you.”

A normal person talking to Draco would be hurt, but she was used to the teasing and banter that practically flooded from his mouth like water so instead she slapped him on the arm and watched in satisfaction when he rubbed the spot.

“I’m serious; I bet you’re curious about who you’ll smell.” She said back.

Malfoy scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing he ever heard, but what she didn’t know was that he was more curious than ever. Did all his wants, besides wanting to prove to his father that he’s worthy, come to the idea of someone understanding and loving him? Was there someone already out there and he was about to find out who? Just by leaning in and taking a soft sniff of this bubbling liquid that the cauldron beheld? Yet the smallest sniff would give the strongest scent, revealing who he desired most.

Draco scoffed again to get rid of the thoughts and to prove his point further on how silly it was.

“Me, a Malfoy, wondering who I smell. Stupid and absurd, really, I tell you.” He mumbled under his breath. “I’ll stick my nose in there and smell the copper of the House Cup, that’s for sure.”

He watched as she nudged some ingredients towards him so he could cut them, rolling her eyes at his behavior.

“Really? Your deepest attraction is a cup made of copper?” She tested, scooping something into the Potion, watching as it bubbled and smoked from the addition to the mix.

Draco seemed to be scoffing a lot that day, because that’s what he did just then.

“No, take a joke. Obviously I’ll be smelling my own scent because everyone’s desire for me will be so strong this whole room will be able to smell it.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a little. Draco scowled.

“You think it’s funny do you? The facts are funny now; every girl is drooling over me and it’s absolutely hilarious to think about.”

She shook off the laugh coming up her throat, composing herself.

“What if I don’t smell you?” She tested, watching for his reaction.

His eyes stopped on hers, looking at her face with such intensity that it made her sink into her feet a little. He eyed her up and down, silver orbs seeming to absorb her appearance.

“You better.” He said simply, but it sounded like a threat, vanishing the playful banter in the air that was previously present, replacing it with think fog and tension that surrounded itself between them.

“And why should I smell you?” She bravely asked, staring right back into his eyes. He made a chop with his knife that was harder compared to the others, staring at her harder than before.

“You’re mine, that’s why.”

Hope you liked it! 🫶🏻

[motherofdogs1010]

Letters to Juliet & Romeo II (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: Heartbroken and in the midst of the Great War as a nurse, Y/N L/N writes to a person she never expected to write to before... her brother's friend, Thomas Shelby... But the war's over now and it is time to face the letters...

Warnings: angst, wartime talk, fluff, reunion, pre-Peaky Blinders Tommy, solider!Tommy, nurse!Reader, chubby!reader, age gap (everyone is of age)

Italics: contents of letters

🪖 Dividers by @firefly-graphics 🪖 Banner by @vase-of-lilies

June 1918, 5 Months before Great War Ends 4 Years of Letters

I picture what my life might be like when this war ends, I picture how I will ever continue to go about life after seeing the worst of men...

Y/N read Tommy's newest letter, she could see the dirt on it and the smudged thumbprints he left as he traced it; they were flooded today in the camp ever since they moved further onto the field. It was night now when she got to reading his letter, she wondered too how her life was going to be like when she got home.

I picture you there by my side, I imagine us together... I imagine you in my arms, holding you at night. You are the only one that knows me, the me that this war has crafted and spat out...

Y/N felt tears well up in her eyes as she read his profession, her lip wobbling as she read his letter before the tears soon began to fall down her cheeks as she heard some of her fellow nurses snore away into the night.

If we survive this war, I plan to make you a Shelby, make a honest woman out of you... dedicate my life to the woman who has held me together...

🪖

11 A.M., November 1918, the Great War was declared over... she could remember patching up a badly injured man when the gun fire stopped. She had looked up and saw the confusion on everyone's faces when they realized the total silence around them.

And now, the train she was on that was taking her home stopped, the conductor announcing their stop in Small Heath. She stood, grabbing her suitcase as she was still dressed in her ward uniform since that's what they were told to wear home. She wondered if Tommy had made it home first, she knew there was soldiers on the train, but she prayed he was somewhere.

She had written to her mother, who told her that her brother had arrived home first since he was one of the first to head home and that they would be greeting her.

As she stepped off the train, suitcase heavy as she saw the crowded train station, witnessing the reunions happening and she felt a sadness come over as she began to look around for her family.

"Y/N..."

Her eyes widen as she heard that familiar voice and turned around...

Tommy was dressed in his uniform just like how many others were as him and his brothers stepped off the train, immediately seeing Polly, Ada and Finn waiting for them in the crowd.

"There you boys are", Polly said, embracing them.

Tommy's mind wandered as he hoped Y/N was close by, he needed to see her, hold her just as anyone needed air to breath. He tuned out whatever the others were talking about as he looked around and his heart stopped as he saw her, the glimpse of her face as she was dressed in those damned nursing clothes.

Here she was, the woman he wanted to make his wife...

"Y/N..."

He watched as she froze and began to turn, but he had already begun to move, pushing past people and ignoring the voices of his family as he watched Y/N also drop her suitcase and began to walk towards him.

"Tommy", she said with tears in her eyes as finally, they embraced.

It was a tight embrace, one that felt as if one of them let go, they would never be here again. Tommy buried his face in his neck, his hand accidentally knocking off her cap as he squeezed her, feeling her tears wet a part of his uniform as little sobs escaped her.

He felt whole as if the missing piece he never had was returned to him as he lifted her off the ground for a few minutes as they embraced...

"So that's who the bastard's been writing to", Arthur mused, John chuckled.

"Don't be mad that he had a bird waiting for him", John teased as Polly rolled her eyes.

She watched as her nephew embraced the girl tightly, the two lost in their own world as Polly's eyes widen at who the girl was.

"Blimey, that's B/N's sister", she breathed, Ada squinted and saw it too.

"Looks like we've got a wedding to plan for, huh Polly?" Ada said.

Polly let out a little chuckle and thought that at least something good came out of this war...

TAGLIST

@calmingmelody96 @69your-best-night-mare69

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Forget-Me-Not 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki

Summary: You return to your childhood home to put the past to rest.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“It’s unfair, they should not say those things, I know. I’m sorry,” Loki’s voice undercuts your heaving sobs. He pats the back of your head, petting it as he hugs you against his chest. 

In that moment, you are not alone. You have a friend. You have someone to hold you. Something your mother never did. No, she only ever sent you in to face those grimy hands and that sour breath. 

He leans until he’s laying down, taking you with him. He caresses your temple and the shell of your ear. Your breaths mellow and your tears dry up. You lay in the hangover of your grief. All that you’ve held in for the last two years... 

Then you’re flat on you’re back. You don’t know how it happened. Or why. Or so quickly. 

You fight him. You get free for a moment but not for long. He crashes into you as you reach the rivers end. Then he pins you in the door. He’s on you. He’s writhing and thrusting. Each time you try to inhale, he pushes your face into the water. 

You can’t breath, you can’t think, you can’t feel. No. Don’t do anything but survive. 

You wheeze as the belt tightens around your neck, your head lolling over the leather. The metal of Loki’s zipper bites into you as he bends and reaches beneath you. He stretches his hand across your pelvis and lifts you. He curls his fingers long your folds, using his middle one to roll your clit. 

You shudder as he snickers over your crown. You tense and grasp at the leather around your throat. Your eyes bulges and your skull throbs. A speckle of black creeps into the edge of your vision. 

“You can pretend. You can lie, but I feel how you’ve missed me, darling,” he nuzzles the back of your head as he delvers further back and prods around your entrance. He dips inside, rocking his hand as his hips tilt in anticipation. “You think of me. At night when you are alone. Because who else would have you?” 

You cough as your eyes flutter. You could laugh. He has always been good at telling on himself. 

He shifts and wiggles his hips. He snags his tip between his knuckles and leans into you. He spreads his fingers inside of you and pushes in between them. You whine at how he stretches you. It burns like acid, just like that day at the river. 

Twenty years and Hammer Ford is just the same. He is too. They all are but you changed. You’re not afraid. You’re not weak. You will make it through just like you always. Now that, that’s the only thing that’s the same about you. 

He inches into you. Your body wracks as you gurgle. Your hand slips to the floor. Your head is pulsing, your body too. He slides in to his limit and sighs. He brings his head next to yours and nips at your ear. He hums. 

“Mmm, you feel just as good as I remember,” he purrs. 

He rears back and thrusts back in. Your back arches as your head hangs forward. Your breath whistles in your throat. 

He huffs against you, pumping harder, deeper, flattening you to the floor as he winds the belt tighter around his hand. He drags his fingers back to your clit. You croak as you’re trapped and prone beneath him. 

He puts his knees between yours and spreads your legs wide. He fucks you into the cold floor. Your eyes roll back and blurs into the void. Even as you drift toward unconsciousness, you feel him. He tears you up from within. 

“Is this how they have you, hm? On your mother’s couch? You whore,” Loki taunts as water floods your nose. You hack as he lifts your head again. “Mm, do you beg them to keep going or to finish?” 

He cackles and shoves your head back down. The noise of slapping flesh drowns out the gentle trickle of the river. The twigs jab into your legs and stomach. Your insides burn and your ears ring. 

Your eyes roll open. The pressure of the belt is slack, the tail of it across the floor. Loki’s long fingers are splayed as he holds himself above you. Your cheek rests on the floor as he pants and pumps. He drags in and out of you with long strokes. 

You stare at the wall. Just like you did all those years before. With all those monsters.  

He trembles and groans. You feel him getting close. You hate how you can tell.  

He ruts faster. Your hips smash into the floor as his pace turns frantic. At least it will be over. But what then? You can’t run off into the trees. You can’t go home to the woman who made you into this. 

He grunts and spasms. He slows as he shakily thrusts in and out. That’s different than before. You remember the warm he sprayed onto your thigh. No, he cums deep inside you. He holds himself there and lays his weight onto you. 

His breath is shallow as he goes limp and his head hangs next to yours. He tickles your side and wiggles his pelvis. You groan and wince. 

“Darling, know that you will not be rid of me so easy this time,” he rasps. 

You lay in silence as his words creep into your mind. You toy them, peel them apart, and your eyes go wide. Your heartbeat hitches as your eyes sting. No... 

“You will always have a part of me to call your own,” he brushes up and down your hip. “And I will watch it grow inside of you.” 

You shake and close your eyes, “you’re sick--” 

“Well, I was going to let you go back to that sad life you built but then you had to keep talking,” he snarls and tilts his hips. You whimper. “But darling, you should be thanking me. I am scraping scum such as yourself from the river and making you into something more.” 

“Get off,” you push on the floor as you try to free yourself. “Get--” your voice scrapes in your tormented throat. “Get off!” 

“Oh no, we have to be sure,” he rocks into you slowly and hooks his arm around your neck, pulling your head up. He presses his lips to your cheek and hums. “It never takes on the first try.” 

[whore4gwen]

FAREWELL｡･ﾟ･

Larissa x Fem!reader

Tags: Angst

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(4 months ago)

The blood rushed from your face, leaving you ghostly pale as you stared at Larissa's text.

We're over?

You felt hot tears well in your eyes as you read in disbelief. Had you done something wrong?

Was there someone else?

You texted and called Larissa, over and over and over, and nothing. Maybe you really weren't good enough anymore.

8 months gone to complete waste.

(4 months later)

You pulled the key from the ignition as you tossed your seat belt the opposite direction.

You hurriedly locked the car and walked up the steps of the porch.

Once you got inside you threw your bag Gods know where and went straight to the half empty bottle of wine on the kitchen counter.

Lately, liquor has been the only thing that's been able to help you wind down.

You grabbed the bottle, not bothering to use a wine glass and began to guzzle the liquid.

You made your way to the couch as your phone began to buzz.

Your eye brows drew together causing a perfect crease to form over your forehead. You skeptically walked and picked up my phone.

Your heart nearly dropped when you read who the text was from.

Larissa?

You thought.. you thought surely she would have blocked you by now.

You wanted to delete her contact and not waste your time reading whatever she has to say. But it's almost like your fingers have a mind of their own as they select her contact and open her message.

You began to nervously chew on your nails as your eyes scan over the text.

'Would you be interested in meeting up tonight?'

No, well yes.

I shouldn't, I know I shouldn't, but what if?

What if something happens?

'Sure.'

You reply nervously. You waited a couple minutes so you didn't seem desperate.

Instead of continuing the conversation further, Larissa just heart reacted to your message.

(2 hour skip)

You tugged down on my skirt as your approached the entrance of the restaurant Larissa chose.

You've not been here with Larissa since your half a year anniversary.

The memories of that night flood through your mind.

You give a brief smile to the waitress as she walks you to a table, that's seated for two.

You cross your legs as you sit and open your menu and patiently wait for Larissa.

Before you could check the time on your watch, you felt a hand brush up against your shoulder as Larissa came into your vision. She gave you a polite smile and sat right in front of you.

Your knees nearly touched.

Larissa looked beautiful as ever.

"How are you darling?" Larissa asks, making you wince slightly.

Darling.

You haven't been called such a name in quite awhile.

"Fine, how are you?" You return the question.

"Well I've been all over the place really, there's a new student at Nevermore, and oh my, she just loves causing problems." Larissa sighs.

You hum in acknowledgment as she finishes talking.

You probably should say something but you're unsure of what to say.

Why did you leave me?

Was there someone else?

Did you break up and that's why you texted me?

You chewed your lip nervously, thinking about all the reasons why Larissa could've messaged you.

"Would..." Larissa starts as her voice slowly gets quieter.

"Would you like to come back to my place tonight?" Larissa asks, averting her gaze.

Yes!

No...

No.

"I don't... I don't think I will." You mumbled quietly.

Larissa looked down in disappointment and shame. "If that's what you want then so be it." Larissa cleared her throat as she spoke unconvincingly.

After Nevermore you were all Larissa had, well not that you are hers, not after what happened, not after what Larissa did.

Larissa wanted to be offended, but did she really have the right? After all she is the one that called a quits.

A uncomfortable silence engulfed the two of you. It was almost unbearable.

Why was Larissa here? Why did she text you? Why did you show up?

The decision had been made but neither of you moved a muscle.

After a moment you looked up to see Larissa already looking at you. Your eyes were caught with hers, you wanted to look away, really you did, but you couldn't. A moth drawn to a flame.

"I..." you went to speak but your breath hitched in the back of your throat. Each and every word, completely forgotten. Even after not seeing Larissa in for months she still makes your knees weak.

"You should probably go." Larissa said, finishing your sentence. The ache in her voice not going unnoticed.

"Right." You mumbled, blushing slightly as you tore your gaze from Larissa's captivating eyes.

"I probably should." You said, as you grabbed your pearled hand bag and stood from your seat.

Larissa watched motionless as you packed your belongings. Just like that you'd be gone again. Would she be subdued to wait another four months to see you? The thought was agonizing to her.

Larissa would never understand how she went four months without your intoxicating presence.

Well she knew, of course she knew, but how she managed? Well that was simply beyond her comprehension.

"Farewell, Larissa." You whispered softly, drawing Larissa from her scrambled thoughts.

You nearly winced at the way Larissa's name fell from your lips. A distasteful formality stuck on your tongue.

It took every fiber of your being not to leap over the table into Larissa's arms, forgiving the tragic heartache Larissa left you with.

The sides of Larissa's lips lifted into the biggest smile she could muster. Without returning the favor You turned around and began to walk away.

After getting nearly three tables away from Larissa, you stopped.

Completely still.

This was absurd.

You wanted to turn around, you wanted to look at Larissa, even if it was just one last time.

But you knew better than that. You knew if you turned around and saw Larissa, you'd never look away.

[1-800-local-whore]

Lucky

Marauders!Sirius Black x Innocent fem!Reader

Lucky - Britney Spears

warnings : sex, arranged marriage, cold husband, suspicion to cheating (no actual cheating), pregnancy-mentioned, angst, hurt, hemophilia, mention of blood, {probably missed something}, no y/n used, no physical description of reader

a/n : my work from wattpad. do not steal, copy, or repost {as in take and claim as your own work}. Enjoy babes.

words : 12k

This is a story about a girl named Lucky

Her whole life, she knew. She knew her adult life was planned out for her, laid down like bricks. Every detail inscribed down to when she would have children and how many. It was something accepted, something she honestly was somewhat excited for.

An arranged marriage was awaiting her, the only problem was to who. That was still a question. It was the same thing that had happened to her parents, all she wished for was it would become the same marriage. Her father was not the best man, he was greedy and always searching for more fortune. But his love for her mother was real.

The marriage had started off very professional but over the time the couple grew to love each other and that blossomed into a real partnership, as if they had been soulmates the whole time. She wanted even just a sliver of that feeling between her and her predetermined husband.

Many bachelors have come along in an endeavor to just have one date with her. She had rejected all of them, mostly because she did not want to become attached just to leave them for a marriage between families. Her schooling years were lonely for that fact, but she had her best friend to lean against. Regulus Black, a boy a few months older than her. The pair had been close ever since their first year. The sorting had placed her in Slytherin and she sat next to him at the table.

Over the years they had spend many hours together, even had sleepovers during Holidays. Everything about their relationship was the definition of platonic. Going to each other about relationship issues (mostly on Reggie's side) and homework (also mostly on his part). Their families encouraged the companionship hardcore, both being from respected pure-blood families. Neither one every being jealous of the other. Strictly best friends, childhood best friends.

In addition to the relations between the young students, came spending time with his older brother. Her and Sirius never had a falling out, rarely ever spoke to each other actually. But the rare occasion they did, it was not unpleasant but she could tell he would have rather been any where else. It would be a lie to say she did not find him attractive. Sirius Black was a very attractive man, just always cold towards her. Always coming off slightly rude with rushed conversation, looking anywhere but at her. Her heart pang with hurt each time, but she would push it down and think about her mystery husband.

What would he be like? Would he be cruel and unkind towards her, resentful even? Or would he cherish her like a delicate flower and look at her like a queen? These questions always flooded her mind. He could be freshly out of school or older than her own father.

"Do you think he's our age Reggie?" she floated into the air, staring at the ceiling from her friends bed.

Regulus was deep in thought, looking down at the question he had just answered. Muttering a "not sure" to her, before asking for a check on the answer.

"No, it's mandrake." She responded flopping back on the bed as he went back to hunching over his desk.

"Why do you even need this class? It has nothing to do with your future?" She continued to question him. And he of course, did not have an answer for her.

The teenagers had finished their last year at Hogwarts the year prior, both deciding to further their education. Regulus was attempting to enter the ministry for a job that she could not ever remember. She had started her training in becoming a healer, caring for people had always come naturally for her so why not make a career out of it.

Their parents had formed a bond with each other because of the two kids. The families were having a small dinner together at the Black residence. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing exciting, plus the best friends got to see each other. They enjoyed each other's company. So much so that many rumors went around school that they had coupled off, which was far from the truth. She had seen this boy with vomit all over his body from partying the night before, cleaned him up too. If any romantic feelings were harbored, well they just were not on either part. They told each other everything, down to the last, little detail.

There was a knock on the door, waiting for Regulus to allow them to come in. Kreacher popped his head into the room, telling them that supper was ready to be served and they were requested to the dining room. They walked down together, laughing at stupidly fond memories of other Slytherins and mishaps that happened at school.

When they make it to the room, their parents are waiting. Father's had the head of the table, mothers chatting across from each other. Regulus sat next her at the table, in the spots the usually occupy, basically giggling to each other. Talking lowly to not be shushed and told to stop fooling around. The group had been waiting some time, food should be out any time now. The doors of the grand room open and close loudly when someone steps through them.

Sirius Black. It was rare he joined them in supper. His leather jacket wrapped around his body as a perfect fit, complimenting his body. She noticed his hair was almost to his shoulders with a slight curl. Nothing really compared to the short, curly hair his brother sported. He looked majestic almost with the way his hair shook as he walked to the chair right in front of her. Boots thumping against the ground each step he took. Her heartbeat seemed like it was mimicking the sounds as he moved closer.

She could also see the slight smudge of red lipstick on the collar of the jacket and the faintest smell of floral perfume. She looked down at her lap, she knew that scent. Nadia Antonov. A gorgeous woman that was the same age as Sirius. She had moved just before Hogwarts from Russia, her accent still held prevalent in her English to this day. She was tall, slim, and pale. She had beautiful dark hair and piercing eyes, breath-taking. She had also been an on and off again girlfriend of Sirius's. One of the two girlfriends she had known he had. She looked down at her plate when he sat down across her, feeling his eyes on her. He was never outright mean to her but she could feel the judgement radiating off him every time they were near each other.

"Glad you decided to join us tonight son." His father spoke uninterested.

"You forced me." Sirius spoke flat.

"Might as well get to it then. Sirius, you and Y/N are getting married soon. Congratulations." His mother spoke quick, clapping her hands together excitedly.

Her eyes widened, looking up from her lap. Immediately at Regulus, who wore an apologetic smile. She was marrying Sirius Black of all people. She transferred her gaze to her parents, the smiles on their face were radiant. Something she could not feel for the person directly across from her. She could practically feel the anger radiating for him.

"Her? HER! Of all people, you give me her?" His voice was somewhat calm, but spit venom.

She refused to look at him, instead opted to pick at the fabric of her skirt near her knee. His words stung enough, she did not need to see the look of disgust he would be wearing as well. The feeling weighted heavy on her chest, her soon-to-be husband's disgust towards her. All types of insecurities filled her, bursting at the seems.

She flinched at the sound of his fists hitting the supper table, eyes squeezing shut tightly to drown out the screaming match between Sirius and his mother. Only picking up bits about how rude he was being and that it wouldn't matter in the end because their decision was final. She tried to reach for Regulus's hand, seeking comfort from him. But he refused, pulling his hand away and sitting back in his seat in a huff of anger.

Sirius began to storm out of the room.

"Weddings in December. Be ready." That was all his father spoke the entire time before moving on to a discussion with her father.

The entire dinner was held in silence only suffocating the two friends, the adults continued as if nothing had happened just prior until they were excused from the table. She followed her friend back up to his bedroom, his steps quick and long. She could barely keep up with him, his irritating sighing doing nothing to help her own feelings. He only turned towards her when they reached the archway into his bedroom.

"You were the one thing I had that he did  not. You were my friend. Now you don't even have a choice. He still gets you, he still gets to steal from me. He has taken anything I have ever gotten, you were something he could not have. You were just supposed to be my annoying best fucking friend." Regulus ranted, blocking the entrance to the room.

"Reggie, I can still be your friend." She was afraid her voice would betray her, it did.

"I..." he huffed "I'm not sure I want something of his."

"Oh."

She nodded in understanding. She knew his feelings towards his brother, very particular about certain things. She was an understanding person, she knew his emotions were high and how well he could communicate them. He just needed time to adjust, they all needed time. But time was against them, December was only a month away. This wedding was going to happen no matter who protested and was going to happen when it was said to. There was no changing anyone's mind. She smiled sadly at her friend before asking him to move so she could collect her things.

"I think it's best if I leave now. I'll see you soon Reg." She spoke quietly with a broken voice. Her attempts to hold back on crying were almost deceiving her.

"No. You don't have to leave.." She cut him off.

"It's okay Reggie, really. It's a big change, everyone needs some time to process it."

With that she walked out of his room, a questionable feeling in her chest. She knew this marriage hurt her friend, after Sirius's outburst it hurt her too. But there was no time for pity, she just had to push through it. She walked to her mother. Both her and Walburga were chatting in a living space. No doubt about the wedding based on the swatches laid along the table in front of them.

"Hello mother, Mrs. Black. Thank you for the wonderful evening. But I must be off, I have an important exam coming up. I look forward to the next time I see you." She wore her best smile, one that gave the facade of happiness.

"As well" Walburga addressed the girl

before moving back to her mother, holding up another poring of colors and went deep into discussion once again.

Early morning, she wakes up

It's time for makeup, perfect smile

That announcement had been over a month ago. Today was the day of the wedding. It was a month built in isolation, she had not seen Sirius since, or really even Regulus. If it had not been for her healer classmates, she would have not spoken to anyone the entire time. Her world has been a quiet chaos, overwhelming her with no sign of stopping for a long time. The lonely feeling lodging itself deep into her chest, stuffing up her throat without a centimeter of air to flow through.

Her mother had her woken up early, barely past dawn. The wedding was not for hours, but she started prepping the event. She went into the bathroom to an already filled tub, steam rolling of the porcelain tub. The bathroom was honestly the only place she had recently for peace. Stripping out of her pajamas, she dipped into the scorching water, letting the water take over her body. The heat felt amazing against her stresses body.

She wordlessly flicked on the radio she had on the counter. With closed eyes, she relaxed into the water with an earful of "Try A Little Tenderness" by Otis Redding. It had been a favorite of her song and even musician since she was a little girl, dreaming about her very own wedding that was only hours away now. She was not really dreading the wedding per se, everything was just extremely stressful. Soaking in the water was a must have for today. She hummed along to the beat, running water along her arms with a soaped cloth.

She scrubbed her head, trying to cleanse the self doubt away. She did not want today to be miserable, but she feared that was out of her grasp. Dunking herself, water rushed filling her ears. Making her feel as physically heavy as she had been emotionally. Coming up only for a gasp of air before quickly submerging again. It had finally come time to step from the safety of her tub, only when her mother knocked relentlessly letting her know her time was running out.

The entire day was spent pampering, trying to get everything perfect to the finest detail. She would be officially wed in four hours, the finishing touches were placed on her face. Staring back in the mirror, it felt like someone else in her shoes. Not that it was a bad thing, she felt confident and beautiful, especially once her hair was pulled and pinned in a way that looked ethereal. This was the girl her younger self always pictured would be standing at the alter, dolled up in a white dress.

Stepping into the dress felt unreal, especially once it was completely zipped up on her body. The long, solid sleeves clung to her arms before cutting off at the wrists. The collar sitting lower on her chest, just enough for her collarbones to be on display. The neckline V'd towards the center of the chest, hugging at the waist before flowing outwards as the fabric reached the floor. The dress was fitted perfectly and made her feel like a real princess, like a queen.

The "couple" were to be wed in Black manor, which sort of stresses her out. The last time she had entered that place, nothing good came of it. But she was optimistic about today. Ready for it to bring new opportunities and chances. She arrived a few hours before with her mother, again touching up her makeup and hair before slipping on her white heels and giving herself a once over again in the mirror. 'Ready as I'll every be' she thought, wiping her sweaty hands down the side of her dress. She sat at the vanity waiting for the time to come.

She really had no say in anything about the wedding. Her only suggestion was to include the gold color, not because she wanted it to look or be expensive. The color relaxed her, the shininess gave a weird comfort. 'The color of wisdom, though many only see the greed that follows gold around." She could not remember who told her that, but it stuck. All she hoped was that it was included in some aspects, give her some control over this situation, over her life.

It felt like years, waiting in a desolate room by herself. Her mind racing, constantly going over the date. December 16, 1980. December 16, 1980. She was only eighteen, her husband twenty-one. Everything felt so quick, so rushed. Her chest felt it was caving in on itself, her dress was restricting airflow to her lungs. Drowning, that's what it felt like. She was drowning, suffocating from the pressure of her life. Hysteric is almost how she felt, pacing back and forth in the cold room. She's been wallowing in stress and the threat of tears for hours now. The pressure behind her eyes and between her temples screamed against them. They were centimeters away from falling when a light knock filled the silent space.

She moved slowly towards the door, it should not have been time yet. She slowly opened the door, her body hidden and only an eye peeking through.

"Hi!" A brightly, loving smile filled her vision, along with the bright red hair, "do you mind if I come in?"

She did not speak, but let the woman in. It was Lily Evans, or Potter now. Her and James had gotten married the summer before, she had heard about it through the papers and Regulus.

"I know how stressful today can be, and it's never fun to be completely isolated!" Lily took a seat on the ottoman at the end of the bed, "are you crying blood?"

Lily jumped up from her seat trying to tend to the girl.

"No." her voice small "Well yes, but this happens." 

She waved Lily off, grabbing a white cloth and dabbed away the pink tinted tears she had not realized shedded. Although the company was refreshing, she and Lily had never been friends. She looked up to Lily academically during school and admired her for her stubborn and self-assured attitude she always wore. As if reading her mind.

"Marrying into this family is a change. I mean I married James, but Sirius is basically his brother. He's a good man, stupid, but good. Everything will fall into place. Hopefully his head levels off soon." She let out a little laugh, easing the tense mood that held the air originally. "Besides, you look gorgeous. Anyone could see that!"

She and Lily spent the next several minutes chatting like they were old friends. Lily welcomed a warm light, and a comforting presences in the dark manor they were currently occupying. She helped apply finishing touches physically and mentally, trying to help the girl feel as beautiful as she looked. Even quickly removing a light pink stain from the chest of the dress with her permission.

"So, I'll see you at the after party at James and I's house? Harry is with my parents for the weekend, I could not be more excited for this party!" Lily cooed at the  thought of a normal weekend.

"What?" She was confused, what party.

"Sirius put it together. Oh I'll see you later." Lily left as her mother barged into the room, ready to usher her daughter to the alter where her husband was waiting.

She took the time the think about what Lily had said. Sirius had put an after party together? Maybe it was a surprise for after the wedding, a peace offering between the soon to be wed. She could not dwell on the thoughts for too long. A bouquet was stuffed into her hands as her father inter locked their arms. Her mother masked her face with the sheer vail, clapping her hands together before rushing back into the room that held the Black family, Her own family, and Sirius's friends.

The organ vibrates the floor as a wedding tune began to play, signaling the entrance of the bride. As the doors opened, the rows of people stood and faced them. Her heartbeat was in her throat, all the eyes on her was overwhelming, she noticed one set was on anything but her. Sirius could not bring himself to even glance in her direction. A stabbing sensation filled her heart and lungs, he could at least acknowledge she was suffering as well as he was in the arrangement.

Towards the end of the rows, she spotted Lily, who wore a bright smile and gave her the thumbs up in encouragement. She took a deep breath and continued with her fathers pace before reaching the alter. Sirius looked unimpressed and bored with the whole function. Maybe that was why she felt so guilty for finding him incredible attractive in this moment.

Sirius was wearing a black suit, crisp and tailored to his toned body. A sleek, black tie laid over the black vest that's as snug to his torso. The black overcoat fell off his shoulders, a white undershirt contrasting the dark colors. His hair was slicked back on the sides, the ends curled in an orderly fashion. A sight she had never seen, usually he had unkempt curls framing his face. He looked pale, with a slight shadow of facial hair peeking through the undertones of his clear skin. He was breathtaking to say the least, but his eyes bothered her. They almost held disgust or distaste, an uncomfortable feeling filled her chest. She knew she was not the pick of the litter but marrying her could not have been that bad.

He reluctantly moved the vail behind her head. Peering down at her for a second before moving his eyes away from her quickly. The officiant had begun, his deep voice spooking her more than bringing comfort. Truthfully, his gravely voice upset her. It was scary, she was already terrified by the scene unfolding in front of her. She zoned out, not listening to a word said until a knife was held in front of her face. Sirius took it hastily, and sliced a small cut into his hand. Reluctantly, she did the same. Wincing at the sharp blade against the palm of her hand, almost crying because of the painful cut. She did not handle pain very well.

The officiant spoke a few more words as blood oozed from both their hands. He ushered the pair to connect their right hands together, the ones that had been cut. He placed the respective rings onto their left ring fingers, a weird, tingly sensation spread through their veins with the mingling of their blood being the source. The Black family wanted them to be tied to each other by blood, thus having their interlocked fingers start to burn as the union became almost painful.

They were finally allowed to release each other, the officiant casting a spell to heal and clean their hands.

"I, now pronounce you as Mr. and Mrs. Sirius Black."

Both their respective families clapped formally. But Sirius's friends whooped and hollered at the union. As the newly weds walked passed them on the way out, James gave a loud wolf whistle, causing Lily to smack him in the chest.

The couple walked completely out of the house into an awaiting carriage. The ride was silent, she had no idea where they were even heading. Sirius had still not spoken to her, and she was unsure when or if he ever would. It shows that he was still extremely upset about the arrangement. The carriage stopped after about thirty minutes of flying, outside of a townhouse. The magical house appeared completely wedged between the other muggle houses. Sirius silently entered the home, as if he knew his way around it already. He silently went up the stairs, she stayed in the entrance basking in the place.

Sirius ran down the steps with hefty stomps, grumbling as he did so.

"Welcome home. I'm going out, so don't wait up for me. Your room is on the left." His words were fast as he pushed past and out the door. It clicked shut with a loud clash, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut and tense.

Instead of dwelling on the boy, she moved up the stairs to find the room he was talking about. It was decorated the exact same as her room back at her parents house. It was the first thing this entire day, or even this month to bring her any comfort. She flopped down on her bed, still in her full wedding attire. The events of today settled in. She was finally married, to a young and handsome man. Whom had just left her alone for the night, the night of her wedding. Tears started pouring out of her eyes now as loud sobs wracked the whole house. He was going to a party he planned for their wedding and did not even tell her about it. Lily told her, Lily said she would see her later. Now she wondered what Sirius was going to tell all of them.

Mascara and eyeliner ran down her cheeks, her face became streaky as she sunk into the bed. She was alone on her wedding night, the most joyous day of her life. Well what was supposed to be joyous.

She changed into an old, battered long sleeve night shirt and fluffy pajama pants, before she charmed her hair to just lay in a ratted bun instead of pinned together like before. She did not even bother washing her face, leaving the remanence of her pain on her face. It would leave another painful reminder in the morning but she did not care at the moment. Her body and mind was extremely fatigued from the events of the day.

She silently crept down the stairs, exploring only slightly while trying to locate the kitchen. She knew if this was Sirius's home there would be alcohol somewhere. She hit the jackpot after opening one cabinet in the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of fire whiskey, forgoing a glass, she popped the seal off and gave it a big chug.

Once she was back in her room, she turned her record player on that had been moved into her room. Playing her favorite record, she once again today sang along to "Try A Little Tenderness", while crying into a bottle of whiskey that was soothing her soul slightly after every chug. Soon the bottle was empty and so were her tears, she just laid on her bed and listened to the song on repeat.

Isn't she lovely, this Hollywood girl

And they say

She's so lucky

It was March, spring smells started filling the air slowly. She and Sirius had been married for around four months now, four long, lonely, and cold months. They never spent anytime together, other than the slight PDA at family gatherings and galas. The bare minimum of an arm around the other for a few seconds of the night. His mother had been shoving the ideas of an heir, the pressure of continuing their pure-blood legacy with another Black to join the bunch. This would not have been such a bad idea, but their marriage was not consummated yet. She was not really sure if it ever will be.

She sat at a table, body clad with a darling dress. It was a baby blue, long sleeved dress. Flowing down passed her feet, a low slit running up the side. A drastic contrast to the dark colors of the people around her. Champagne buzzed through her system, making her brain a little fuzzy and her cheeks a tint of red. Her husband was no where to be found at the moment, she had just escaped his mother with more pressuring of a child.

She had recently been thinking of children. The house is very lonely, mostly just occupying her and a sweet, little elf named Peekey. She enjoyed their shared moments in the solitude of the dead home. Sirius was always away for work, or out on the weekends with Remus. Nothing was really confining her to the home, but with no friends outside of Healing School, she spent many cold nights alone in her bed.

"Your mother is such a... pest!" She whispered out to Regulus. Looking around to make sure no one was listening.

One thing had come from attending all of these gatherings. Her friendship with Regulus has rekindled, after hours filled with tears and sobs from both ends. Now they often spent most of the evenings at parties with each other. Regulus was much more intoxicated then she was. She did not mind though, the feeling of taking care of someone and them depending on her, filled her heart with happiness.

"Woah there, no need for name calling." Regulus snorted with rolled eyes. "Honestly, pest is too nice of a word."

"I'm serious Reggie. She keeps bombarding me with questions of a child! Sirius and I have not even..." Regulus cut his friend off.

"I do not need to hear about the sex life of my brother."

She huffed, stressed from the nights antics already. "I was going to say kissed."

She sipped more on her glass of champagne, scanning the room for any familiar faces. Only ones she did not really feel like conversing with in the moment. Polishing off her glass, she watched Regulus down another shot before stomping away towards the bathroom. While he was away, she refilled her glass and swirled it around. Many people gawked at her, mostly younger women with a few exceptions to older ones. In awe of the woman who married THE Sirius Black. They would constantly ask questions about what marriage was like to such a dreamy man. Call it what you want, but she wanted some fun with her life. She would make up wild stories of adventures and dates they had been on. Not wanting to crush their dreams of a doting husband, they would all fawn over sweet stories she would make up on the spot. Giggling slightly to herself when they would comment on how loving he seemed. Some even asked for dirty details, which she would flat out avoid talking about. Not only did she not know anything about Sirius sexually, she had no experience herself to fabricate a believable story. The questions were also extremely personal and uncomfortable for her.

"Oh dear, why don't you go find your husband. Call it an early night, you know. Heirs do not just make themselves." Walberga placed a gloved hand on her shoulder, ushering her to find Sirius with more comments on children.

She did not look very hard for Sirius, he was probably already gone. She was stationed near the restrooms, searching for her drunk friend. She spotted him across the room at the refreshment table once more. She quickly gathered him up, pulling the alcoholic beverage out of his hands and onto the table.

"Okay Reg, time to go home."

The journeys home with drunk Regulus are always a fun trip. They stopped around three times on the ride home for him to throw up outside of the carriage. Upon returning to her shared home, he spewed about twice, once on her shoes. She cleaned him up, tipping a glass of water into his mouth. She changed him into one of the spare sets of clothes he kept in her room, an agreement they made after Regulus had woken up in a puke-drenched shirt.

She laid him in her bed and walked to the connected bathroom to ready herself for bed. Her body felt the relief as the dress slipped off her body, she hung it up on the closet door. Switching into way less formal and more ratty sleeping clothes. Her hair pulled back messily, and her face cleansed of make up. They had at least three more events to make an appearance at within the next two weeks. Events she was dreading because his mother would be there.

Regulus was sprawled out on her bed, looking as if he was in a deep sleep. As she laid herself under the covers, he rolled towards her.

"You know, I'm a Black." He stated.

She giggled at his statement, "I do know that Reggie."

He laughed a bit groggy, rolling onto his other side.

"I just mean, I can give an heir and no one would question the paternity." He mumbled.

"What!?" She sort of yelled at her friend. The only response was loud snores from her drunk friend. Drunk, he was drunk. That's what she kept reminding herself as she tried to fall asleep.

The next morning, she decided to just forget what Regulus had proposed. He was beyond drunk and just processing the things she had said hours before.

Regulus woke up at some point in the afternoon, gladly accepting the potions she had to cure his hangover. Already having some food and water prepared for him, doting on people was a way she showed love. The thought of having someone to care for kept her heart beating.

"You know, I meant what I said last night."

"What?" The color draining from her face.

"I know mother can be... overbearing. Sirius does not seem like he would help you in this situation. I'm his brother and your best friend. Let me do this to make up for my actions when the marriage was announced." He held her hand, sitting up on her bed with the covers bunched around his clothed body.

"I don't know Reg, I still don't think I could do that to Sirius." She frowned with a sigh, truthfully she thinks that kids would make her life happier.

"Think about it as a friend helping a friend? Just think about it and the offer will stand. But for now, I gotta go. Work calls me in a few hours unfortunately."

Regulus left giving her one last "think about it" before heading to his home. The hours of the day dragged on slowly. She was not sure that Sirius would be home, but decided on making supper for them anyway. Which lead to another cold, and lonely night shared with her house elf.

She is so lucky, but why does she cry?

If there is nothing missing in her life

Why do tears come at night?

There was a birthday party at the Potter's today. For little Harry, his first birthday. Sirius had actually told her about this party and asked if she wanted to go. Granted he asked about two days ago, but nonetheless. This was the first event with his friends that he had asked her to tag along with in the seven months they had been married.

"Oh finally! I have been trying to get you to come over for months now!" Lily exclaimed towards the girl as she entered, taking the present for her son out of the girls hands and gave her a swift hug. "I tell Sirius to bring you every time he comes over, I was starting to think you don't like us."

This caught her off guard. She didn't even know Lily well enough to really dislike her, but the fact that she wanted her to come over and Sirius never told her.

"I'm sorry Lily, I've been having some... health issues recently."

"Are you-" She cut Lily off quickly.

"Oh no, not that. School and health issues. I'm always drained or doing some tests, but I finally had a free weekend and couldn't be happier to be here."

Although, there was a ping of sadness for her conversation with Lily. Plus, watching Harry all night did not help with the yearn for a child of her own. She never could find a time to bring it up to Sirius.

And again, she went home alone that night. Sirius jetting off to the bar with Remus, or at least that was what Remus told her they were doing. But she did not really care in the moment. She had a good day, left the house, spent time with old acquaintances from school, and got to see cute babies all day. Nothing could put her in a down mood.

It was around, roughly 9 p.m. when the doorbell rang. She was little surprised by that, normally Regulus called ahead and just walked in. Remus would walk in especially if he was with Sirius. She made her way down from her room, in only a tank top and shorts due to the temperature rising outside.

"Hello?" She answered the door a bit drowsy considering she was almost asleep a minute prior.

"Oh 'ello, little von. Is Sirius 'ome?" It was Nadia.

Nadia, Sirius's girlfriend before the arraignment was made. She looked as beautiful as ever standing in front of her in all her tall glory. It just did not make sense to her why she would be at her home.

"Oh, um no sorry. He isn't home right now." Her voice timid, like she was afraid to answer the woman in front of her.

"Shame. Wanted to tell 'em I had great time with 'em the other day. That I can not wait for next time. You tell 'em day for me?" Her smile looked devilish, like she was smirking in a triumphant victory.

The wind seemed knocked from her lungs and ears clogged.

"Sure, I'll let him know. You have nice night and be safe." She spoke before closing the door as the beautiful woman sauntered down the stairs to the house.

She felt like tears were going to explode out of her eyes, she did not understand why it hurt so much. She felt so dumb, of course he was cheating on her. She also felt stupid for being upset, Sirius treated her considerable good for what some arranged marriages have been, the relatives she's seen. He is not abusive, just they do not communicate. He can be cold towards her when they speak, the little they do speak, but he has never been extremely cruel towards her.

She feels betrayed in a way, she put her happiness aside to stay loyal to a man who could careless about her in general. Without thinking she picked up the landline in the kitchen and dialed Regulus's number.

"I've changed my mind Reggie. I want a baby. Meet at my house Friday night." She did not even wait for him to respond before placing the phone back down.

Her school had just let out for the year, her week was so barren that she decided she would not waste a single night sober. Starting tonight, she took a cheap bottle of wine up to her bedroom, listening to music, and sipping on the bottle. She thought about her life once more. What had she done to deserve this? She was always good, always listening and obeying. She did not reject the idea of marrying someone her parents paired her to, even when it meant losing a friend. Now her husband is cold and unfaithful. She could handle him being cold and resenting towards her, but the fact that he would seek comfort in someone else. It just hurt, was she not pretty enough for him? Not his type? Was he repulsed by the idea of her so much that he spent every weekend and day he could away from her and their shared home. She was not even invited to her own weddings after party because her husband arranged it without telling her.

She feels silly, she's living a comfortable life that anyone would be happy to have. Technically she is married to The Sirius Black, any girl would swoon at those thoughts. Her home is a decent size, enough for her to have her own space. She had doting elves that are just too cute, lavish parties that require gorgeous dresses and expensive jewelry to attend. Riches from an old, wealthy family, though she does not dive into their funds and uses her own money. Except when her mother in law gives her money for dresses. She was about to start her own healing career. Her life was like a dream come true to others, making her feel selfish for wanting more. Pathetic for crying and drinking over what is considered minor in their marriage.

This went on more about two more days, drinking until she passed out, throwing up on her sheets, sobering up enough to change them and lounge around for the rest of the day, barricading in her room. She took two days off of drinking, her stash was running low and she needed to run to the store. But she felt no motivation to leave her bed.

Thursdays were days Sirius did not work, so he normally went out on Wednesdays. She assumed he had been gone for hours now, she was half a bottle of whiskey deep, and now out of alcohol. But she was not done for tonight, not even close. With the day approaching for Regulus to show up, the more nervous she got, the more nervous she was the more scared she became. Life moved so fast for her, she was not even twenty yet. But this how life goes for the woman in her family and many others. The fact that she was yet to conceive a child was alarming to her parents and Sirius's, although they did not know they had not even tried.

Not her best moment, but decided she would go to the store in this moment for more alcohol. The air was bit colder than she thought, hugging herself she stumbles down the paved side walk, clutching money in one of her hands. Singing quietly to herself, a strong breeze almost knocked her over. She stumbled almost to the ground, laughing at the fact before steadying herself and continuing towards the store.

She bumped shoulders with a tall, lanky man.

"Oops! Sorry Sir." She giggled before walking forward.

The man gently grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him and around to face him.

"What are you doing out this late?" He asked, almost sounding concerned.

"Oh hi Remus! Jus- gettin' more of me whiskeyyyy, I ran out." She pouted at the end of her sentence.

"You really shouldn't be out at night, especially drunk and alone. Where are your shoes?" She looked down at her bare feet, toes stiffly wiggling in the cold.

"Oh!" she giggled "must've forgotten them? I jus-really got out of me bed." Her accent coming through a little thicker.

"Okay, you barely have clothes, let's get you home. Where is Sirius?" Remus questioned, leaning forward to help the girl lean against him. Taking the cash from her hand when she complained about it cramping.

"Ion knowww... thought he was with youuu!!" She poked his belly slightly before focusing back on her stepping.

"You know, hodoubenekakskndbrehisyxh."

"What did you say?" Remus laughed at her incoherent speech a little bit.

"I have no idea." She hiccuped and held tighter around his waist when she felt she was about to fall.

"You are pretty entertaining little one, you should come out with us some time."

"Sirius never invites me, didn't even 'vite me to me own wedding party." She grumbled.

Remus grimaced, eyebrows furrowed, "he did not invite you?"

"Nope, Lily told me. But why go somewhere I am unwanted you know.

"We want you there. You are our friends wife, we want to be your friend too." Remus reasoned with her.

"Maybe. But some people do not. That's okay though, it doesn't matter." Her body shutters as the urge to cry flows up into her eyes. She's unable to control the tears that flow down.

Remus stops when he hears her sobbing. "Hey it's okay, there is no need to- is that blood? Why are your tears red? Are you crying blood? Oh shit!! What do I..."

Remus started to freak out, but she calmed him down in a second.

"It's a medical 'dition. I 'cry blood' sometimes. I fine, promise." She smiled at him as he wiped her eyes, but another wave of tears washes over her. "I think Sirius is cheating on me."

Remus stiffened, "why do you think that?"

"Nadia came over the other day. Said so, with her too. Are we almost home, I'm tired."

Remus picked her up and carried her the block back to her home, he had been heading this way originally. But him and Sirius had some matter to discuss currently. When he reached the home someone was outside, in front of the door.

Regulus had also shown up wanted to speak to Sirius.  Remus set her down in Regulus grasp, she giggled to her friend, telling him stupid jokes and how much she loved him as her best friend.  The door was locked and she did not have her keys on her. Remus started banging on the door, waiting for Sirius to open up.

The sight behind the door on Sirius's end was honestly hilarious. His best friend looking slightly irritated, his brother worried and almost nervous, and his wife smiling and drunk beyond recollection.

"We need to talk." Remus said flat.

The group moved inside.

"I need to talk with you too brother, but I'm going to take care of her first." Regulus walked her up the stairs and out of the vision of the other boys.

"So what is it you need to talk about Rem." Sirius asked relaxed, lounging on the couch, assuming Remus would follow.

"Are you serious?" Remus stood in front of him.

"Yes?" Sirius looked confused.

"No you fucking idiot. I found YOUR wife drunk and alone, almost into the middle of the town. Barely clothed, no shoes, and a wad of cash in her hands." Remus tried to keep his voice steady, tossing the cash into Sirius's chest.

"Oh. I had no idea she was gone." Sirius felt uncomfortable under his friends gaze.

"She told me how you don't invite her out with us on the weekends, and I know Lily practically begs you. Did you really not invite her to the party after your-HER wedding." Remus's voice was fluctuating between anger and disappointment.

Sirius closed his eyes. He felt horrible about how he had been treating her, how cold he had been. How stand-offish, but truthfully he just did not know how to process and handle his emotions.

"Merlin Sirius! Do you know anything about your wife?" Remus exclaimed, gripping his hair in irritation.

"Not really." He sighed, holding his face in his hands.

"She cries blood."

"She- what? She was bleeding? Was she okay?" Sirius perked up at the mention of blood.

"No! She cries blood apparently, her tears have a red tint in them." Remus softened his voice looking at his shocked friend.

Sirius knew he fucked up, he knew that three months into their marriage, he knew that the hours after their officiated ceremony. He felt bad, horrible, but he did not know how to fix it.

"She thinks you are cheating on her." Remus spoke, his voice becoming strict.

"What? I'm not cheating on her." Sirius looked confused. He had been faithful to her, although he was cold, he would never cheat on someone. "You know I would never, not after... not after her."

"I know that. But does she. I guess Nadia came over the other, told her to tell you what a great time she had and you should see each other again. Sirius have you two even... consummated the marriage?" Sirius shook his head, causing a groan to slip from Remus's mouth, "I know you wouldn't but please tell me you didn't." Remus was extremely serious. Although he was not her friend, he knew how sweet and kind she normally was. She was different from all the girls Sirius had been with previously.

"No! I haven't really even seen Nadia for three months. I haven't slept with her since before our wedding. She keeps trying to coerce me, but I refuse her. I swear it Rem." Sirius pleaded.

"Yeah, that's something you need to tell her tomorrow." Regulus walked down the stairs towards the pair of boys. "She called me the other night, drunk as all get out. She really thinks you are cheating. It crushing her more than the fact that you don't talk to her."

"I don't know what to do!" Sirius dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to relive some of the pressure "I don't know how to talk to her! I've never not known how to talk to a girl before her."

"Well big brother, you have until Friday. I'm supposed to come over while you are gone and give your wife a baby." Regulus said nonchalantly.

"What!?" Remus and Sirius shouted at the same time.

"You don't touch my wife!" Sirius exclaimed pointing an accusatory finger at his younger brother.

Regulus held his hands up in defense. "I'm not doing it because I want to steal your wife from you. She's my best friend, never been nothing more. But mother is pressuring her about when the next heir is born. Since you haven't noticed it at every single family events, too busy doing whatever. I offered it in a drunk stupor and she declined. But one night she called me crying saying she wanted a baby and wanted it to be Friday while you were out with your friends."

Honestly this knowledge crushes Sirius. He felt so guilt ridden for how this whole situation had ended, especially since most of it is his fault.

"You are so lucky! I am such a good brother. I didn't have to tell you about this, I could have just given her what she wants. What would satisfy everyone involved, but I knew her hesitance in betraying you. Even when she believes you are betraying her, she shook up stairs because she was scared the time had come. I had to reassure her and wipe away her tears that she was safe. DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TEARS YOU HAVE CAUSED HER! Huh? How many crying phone calls and times I've had to come over to make sure she was okay after so many lonely nights. She always wore a smile towards me, always said nice things about you to me. People have told her since your wedding that she's lucky, so lucky to have had you as her husband. But brother, I believe it is you who are lucky to have her as your wife." Regulus stopped his rant, continuing to pace across the room, as he had done during the whole one-sided argument.

There was an uncomfortable silence between the three men in the parlor. All sorts of emotions clouding judgments and rational thinking. Sirius had silently decided what he had to do, what he needed to do.

"Regulus. Do not come back to my house, at least not on Friday. Remus, I'm canceling this weekend. Now if you would please leave my home." Sirius spoke in a monotone voice, a voice that made Remus uneasy having barely heard this tone before.

Silently, he watched Sirius descend up the stairs and out of sight around a corner before exiting the home.

If there's nothing missing in my life

Then why do these tears come at night?

Her nerves were at an all time high, today was the day that Regulus was supposed to come over. She was having extreme second thoughts, she still was not sure she could betray Sirius to this level. A child with his own brother, it just felt morally inappropriate and embarrassing.

Even though he offered first, she felt she was using Regulus in a poorly planned game of chess. Like he was a pawn in a little game, but she was a pawn in another game much higher above herself. She had spent that couple days isolated in her room. No attempts to contact Regulus and in return he had not tried to contact her either. The time for him to arrive was vastly approaching, butterflied filled her stomach at the thought.

She wrapped her arms around her torso, covering up the silk nightgown she had on with a matching silk robe. Her body felt cold and numb, like an out of body experience. She felt this would be another night of crying alone, no comfort and none expected to be given.

Her ears perked up at the hefty knock on the door. Bile raised in her throat. Merlin, she needed this baby so her in laws would back off for a bit. But she could not do it. Her heart clenched at the fear of the child she may never have. She just could not go through with this plan, not if it could potentially hurt Sirius.

She made her way to the door, hands shaking and legs wobbly.

"I can't do it Reggie! I'm sorry." She sobbed into her hands, not really sure why she's crying.

"Can we talk?" Her head snapped upwards at the voice. Sirius. She looked like a deer caught in headlights, her heart racing like light speed.

"Uh, Sure." she wiped her eyes quickly, confused when Sirius took one of her hands in his and walked her to sit down next to him on her bed. He seemed just as jittery, just as nervous as she was currently. They looked like messes and it was the truest sight of this couple.

"I know what you and my brother had planned." He said simply.

She stammered, lip quivering. "I'm sorry Sirius! I'm so sorry. I understand if you would like me to leave." Her head hung low, shame flooded her system.

"Darling, look at me." He spoke softly, nudging her cheek with his thumb. Looking into her sad and puffy eyes, offering a small smile to her. "I am not upset about the arrangement. I am upset because of how awful I have been towards you."

There was silence between the pair, very awkward and suffocating.

"I have not cheated on you. I know Nadia says otherwise. But I have not been with her since about two weeks before our wedding. It just did not feel right." Sirius confessed to his wife.

Her tears built up again, spilling over without a second thought. "I was going to be the one who cheated?"

She pulled her hands out of his, feeling disgusted by her own skin. Deeming it not worthy to be held against his skin, though he was not perfect.

"Sweetheart, it's okay! Regulus told me the other day. I am not mad, I promise. I understand the pressure you are under with mother. Which is why I am here, well one of the reasons." He grabbed her hands once more, having her look directly into his eyes.

"I think you and I should have a baby. I want to be a good husband to you, I just... I don't know how to be good to you. You confuse me and make me feel weird things, things I do not really understand. I've wasted so much time on being scared, I ignored your pain and sorrow, my little dove." Sirius stammered, his own eyes seeming to tear up.

"Sirius, it's okay-" he cut her off.

"No! It's not. I have so much to make up, I don't even know how to start. But let me show you love the best way I know how! Let me give you a baby and we can work from that point on, please?" Sirius slid off the bed and kneeled in front of her sitting body, pulling her hands up his lips for slow and sensual kisses. "I promise, if you help me, I will become the most emotional and loving husband. I have a lot to make up and I want to start working on that. I want you to feel the same way about me, that I have felt since my fourth year at school."

She gasped in shock. "You liked me in school?"

"Well, I didn't know then. But thinking about it and the teasing the boys gave me at times. I definitely did have a tiny crush on you." His face blushed red, embarrassed over such a tiny secret.

"Okay. We can have a baby, but please tell me our love won't only be physical?" She sounded sad, such a tone that broke his heart.

"Please teach me how to properly love you? How to handle my emotions, help me not become my father." He leaned close to her, engulfing her in a tight embrace. Rolling onto the bed, his face buried into her neck as small sobs escape his lips.

They laid together sideways on the bed for a little while, holding each other as if the other was going to fade away from their grasps. Sirius was holding her tighter than she was him, his face still buried into her neck. Inhaling her sweet scent that drove him mad, caressing her cheek with the hand that laid adorn on her face. Finally showing signs of tenderness that she had been craving for months at this point. While he caressed her face, her hand was scratching along the base of his skull. Twirling the ends of his hair before running lightly over the sensitive skin, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

His sobs quieted down, not even sniffling traced his mouth. His eyes still heavy and red with evidence of crying, slowly he started peppering light kisses along her neck. Her hand stopped playing with his hair, surprised by how loving Sirius was being.

"Why'd-ya stop?" He whined out, his words slurred as if he were drunk from her touch.

"I have a confession Sirius." She sat up and moved towards her pillows at the headboard of her bed. "I've never done this before."

Sirius noticed the pink tinge on her cheeks, finding her shyness adorable. But he understood her nervousness as he intently listened to the words she spoke.

"I-I just don't... I don't want it to be bad for you." She huffed, her hands falling in her crossed lap as her head hung low.

"I can promise, it won't be bad for me." He chuckled lightly trying to lighten the mood before following her up the bed and sitting next to her. "We can take it slow, or we don't even have to do that tonight love."

"But, I want to. Do you want to y'know with me." Her face was bright red, voice lacking confidence at her own statement.

"Of course I do! You are my wife after all. We can go slow, I'll be gentle. Lay down for me darling?" Sirius spoke with comforting enthusiasm.

She did as he told her, scooting down slightly to lay on her back comfortably. Her heart raced wildly as Sirius watched her move. They were not even touching, yet the whole scene felt so intimate to her. It did not help that this was her first time and knowing Sirius was experienced did little to bring her comfort.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" She shook her head at him, feeling embarrassment burning again. "It's okay sweetheart, I don't mind teaching you."

Sirius crawled over her, hovering on all fours over her slightly rigid body. He ducked his head down to slowly press his lips against hers, a little more than a peck. He gently moved her arms to wrap around his neck, nudging one of her hands back into his hair causing her to giggle against his lips. Sirius turned his head sideways, deepening the kiss by putting more assertion into it. They kissed each others lips until she started gaining confidence in herself.

Sirius broke the kiss, pulling back completely to sit on his heels. Her legs were trapped underneath his body. She whined a little as he pulled away, her body raising to follow his lips earning a chuckle from him. "Have patience little one."

He rolled the black, tight-fitted shirt off of his broad chest, muscles flexing slightly as he tossed it aside onto the floor. She studied his naked chest. Acknowledging his toned build from years in quidditch, his smooth, pale skin, so warm and welcoming. Breath hitching at the trail of dark hair that disappeared under his belt. Sirius shifted his body, pulling her smooth legs to frame around his hips. Her short nightgown bunching around her hips, flashing a slight glimpse of her panties.

He leaned towards her lips again, the kiss stronger than the other ones previously. On instinct, she wrapped her arms around his neck once more. One hand combing through his locks that she noticed he seemed to throughly enjoy. His chest pressed against her, the silk of the nightgown raised bumps against his skin. Sirius's tongue timidly licked across her closed lips, wanting gain access to the inside of her mouth. She parted her lips slightly, the tips of their tongues touching ever so slightly.

He slipped his tongue further into her mouth, exploring the taste of her. Her body became stiff once more, unsure of what to do with her own tongue as his invaded her mouth. She quite liked the taste of him, but became flustered in the thoughts of how she should move her mouth against his skilled tongue. He pulled his mouth away from hers, a string of saliva following before snapping against his lower lip.

"Just relax and follow my lead." Sirius's spoke lovingly, petting the hair along her forehead to try and soothe her nerves.

Their tongues meet once again, he licked delicately at her tongue. She followed the motions he was doing with uneasy fervor. She liked the feeling of the soft muscle against her own, creating an intoxicating feeling of euphoria and pleasure. Sirius drug one of his fingers down her face, tracing the outline of her features as her reaches her neck. Slow touches cascade further down until it softly caressed over her nipple, his large hands engulfing most of her breast. "Is this okay?" He asked pulling away once more. She mumbled a 'yes' as she closed her eyes, basking in the feeling of his hands in her body in such a sensual way.

His hand needed at the tender flesh, his thumb circling around her hardening bud with a feather-like touch. Sirius moved his face back into the side of her neck, showering slow kisses in many places. He sucked slightly on her sweet skin and with the right amount of pressure on her breast, pulled an unexpected moan from her throat. Not only surprising herself but Sirius as well. He bucked his hips forward into her, almost moaning at the noise of her himself.

"Can I take this off?" His fingers moved from her breast to the end of her nightgown, toying with the hem between his fingers waiting for her permission.

She agreed and sat up slightly so he could pull the dress off completely. This left her bare breast and only panties covering her body. Sirius looked mesmerized by the sight of uncharted skin between them.

"I know it's not much to offer." She stated, noticing his staring.

"Let me show you something." Sirius moved off of her, popping the button of his dark jeans open and practically ripping them off his legs. Leaving both of them in only underwear. He took her hand and lead it down the happy trail of dark hair. "This! This is what you do to me, you little minx. You are so beautiful!" He whined out as he helped her palm him through his thin, black boxers.

Sirius pulled her hands away from him, leaning forward once more. He kissed around her chest, along the fat of her breasts and up the valley between them. He repeated the action with his tongue dragging around them as well. He enclosed one of her nipples into his warm mouth, sucking against it like it was his life's mission. The noises he was pulling from her made him feel like a god. The fact that she was enjoying his company and he could give her pleasure had his ears, as well as other parts, rushing with blood.

He caressed a hand along her naval, rubbing soothing circles into her hips as they slightly rocked into his body. He played with the lace decor of her panties, rubbing over the growing wet patch. Her breathing became heavy, a surge of desire rushing through her bloodstream as his fingers ghosted over the aching areas.

"You can- you can touch me there, underneath them if you would like to." She murmured, eyes shut and focusing on the pleasurable feeling he was giving.

"Do you want me to?" He smiled at her through hooded eyes, her face contorting in turmoil.

"Yeah, please Sirius."

"How could I say no to such a pretty little thing."

Her cheeks tinted red from his comment as he hooked the sides of her panties with his fingers and slide them down her legs at a teasing speed. His thumb teased between the folds, finding her slightly engorged clit. Rubbing half-circles over it, he noticed her tense at the motions, legs trying to clamp shut. He dipped his thumb lower to reveal the seeping wetness and exposing it to his skin before dragging it back up to her clit. This time pressing harder as he circled it fully, watching the pleasure on her face the entire time.

Ears perking and cock twitching as the quiet, breathy moans of his name she let out. He switched hands, letting one continue to rub her aching clit as the other hand moved lower towards her entrance. Easily slipping a single finger in, catching her by surprise. He worked it in and out while simultaneously stroking her clit. Once her moans start to become more frequent, he added another finger into the mix.

"How's this? Feel good?" Sirius whispered into her ear, voice husky and full of lust.

"Mmhmm!" She mumbled out her answer quick, eyes shutting to focus on the pleasure and new sensation.

Her body continued to quiver against his, and judging by the way she was clenching around his fingers. He knew she was close. He applied more pressure with his thumb, her moans became more consistent with his strokes. Her moan cut off suddenly, her mouth forming an 'o' shape as her body shuttered against his.

Sirius could tell she was cumming before she even knew what was happening. "That's it, what a good girl." She clenched harder around him as her breath started to even out slightly.

He pulled his fingers out of her, maintaining eye contact as he sensually pushed his fingers past his own lips. Sucking softly on them as a groan lifted from his chest. Blood rushing more south by the taste of her. The tange catching his arousal off guard for a second. "Are you ready darling? We can take it slow, we don't have to tonight."

"I want to! I-I want you Sirius. I need you." She babbled as she watched his fingers fall slowly from his mouth.

The air became thick with need as Sirius moved away from her to undress himself fully. His breathing became heavy as he slowly pulled his boxers off, teasing himself from the rushed and frantic pleasure he normally endured during hook-ups from the past. She peered at him from between her legs. He was about to be her first everything, the first cock she would have ever seen. It looked perfect to her, even having never seen another before.

He was a medium sized girth. The length looked like a comfortable size, sure there would be a stretch with it being her first time. But he looked to be a comfortable fit, not looking too scary with a slight curve upward. Sirius crawled over her, his hands holding himself up with her head in between his hands. He looked intently down at her. Lust still prevalent but a look of longing and love also filled his senses. He leaned down and collected her lips into a deep kiss full of passion.

"Are you ready?" He kissed along her neck waiting for her to respond to him. She told him that she was ready, he reached between them and ran his cock between her, caressing her clit with the tip a few times.

He caught her entrance for a second and pushed forward slightly, engulfing most of the tip inside. She squealed quietly with the pressure sensation, pulling his shoulders down towards her. Sirius began pushing in further, taking his time and making sure she was relaxed as he pushed more in. About halfway down, she clamped up and began for hyperventilate. He looked up at her face, noticing her eyes screwed shut, he tried to pull out but she told him that she was okay and he could continue.

The pressure was not necessarily painful, the remanence of her first orgasm still fresh within her body helped her relax. He started stretching her more and more the further he pushed until he bottomed out completely inside of her. He kissed around her face as she squealed once more because of the full feeling that held within her blissed stomach. He rested against her body, chests pressed firmly against each other as he cradled her head in his hands. Her arms around his neck as the slight pain dissolved.

"Sirius?" She whispered in his ear.

"Yes love?"

"You can move now."

Sirius kissed her lips once more and trailed more down to her neck as he slowly pulled his hips back from her body. Tentatively, he rocked forward into her, moaning at the warm, suction she was giving him. He was not sure what it was, probably emotions, but sex for him had never felt this good. Each gentle stroke he made into her, sent shocks of pleasure to each finger tip of his. His face fell into her neck, muffling every little or loud noise he made against her. The vibrations of the noises sent a sense of pride through her body.

Still sensitive from the previous orgasm, she felt amazing and comfortable. The happy trail that lead to wide patch of trimmed black hair rubbed against her clit. A tingling sensation filling her chest each time he pushed forward. Her own hips starting to rock into his calm strokes.

"I-I've never - oh merlin-" the feeling of her clench around him as his thumb softly circled her clit once more cut his words off. "Never had sex... this slow.. I- never thought it to—be this...glorious. Baby you feel so good." He moaned loudly each time she clamped onto him.

"Feel so full Sirius. Feel so wonderful." Her hand pulled at the nape of his neck, catching his hair between her fingers. Legs locked around his hips as she felt herself nearing another end. The emotions running rampant through her body heightened every sense. The pleasure in her lower belly felt intense, causing tears to start to flow from her eyes. Another tight circle of his thumb had her coming undone around him. Moaning directly into his ear as she held him tighter to her body. Trying to seek every inch of him into her grasps.

The noises, the actions, everything about the whole interaction had Sirius convulsing. He was about to cum, almost embarrassing quick for himself. The feeling of her cumming worsened his control as he felt himself topple over the edge. Almost instantly spilling into her.

"I love you." Sirius held onto her tightly as she felt warmth fill up her womb. Her heart and body tightened as he listened to his words. Basking in the golden feeling she was currently experiencing. As Sirius weakly rocked through their orgasms she whispered back to him that she also loved him. Both of them feeling a copious amount of love and joyfulness.

The pair stayed like that for a little bit. Tears filled her eyes earlier were pooled down her cheeks but no more were spilling. Sirius was seated inside her still, not moving even and inch off of her. She noticed his shoulders start to shutter as well as the muffled sniffles against her shoulder.

"Sirius? Honey, what's wrong?" She stroked his head, running her fingers through his tangled, sweaty hair.

"It's nothing." He tried to mumble off but she persisted on coaxing out his misery. "I've never felt love like that. Never been slow and soft. Never felt so loved."

She continued to coo at him and give him reassuring compliments. But still he felt his own insecurities and doubts bubbling to the surface.

"I'm sorry. I don't normally blow my load that quick. I'll make it up to you I promise!"

"Sirius look at me." She grabbed his face with both hands and stared into his eyes, nothing but love and satisfaction on her face. "I couldn't have asked for a more perfect moment." Before pulling him into a comforting embrace.

When Sirius had finally pulled out of her, he quickly ran out of the room. She felt a bit confused but slightly hurt. He ran rather quick as if he was disgusted by the act the pair had just committed. Stress and worry started to fill her mind as she felt the tears pool into her eyes and spill over one tear at a time. She thought they had finally made a breakthrough, when she wiped her eyes she noticed the red stains from the tears. Perfect way to top it all off.

She hiccuped shocked when she watched Sirius waltz back into the room, fresh pair of boxers on his body. Hands full of clothes and a rag. He gently began to wipe down her shaky thighs and intimate parts.

"Why are you cry- are you bleeding? Oh Merlin! Did I hurt you?" Sirius spoke frantically, confused and hurt by the thoughts of hurting her.

"No, Sirius" she laughed slightly at him, "it's a condition I have."

He just nodded, unsure of what to say back to her. He decided to finish cleaning her up and dressed her in a pair of his boxers and a loose shirt. Topping it all off with a kiss to her lips. The pair cuddled up together under the covers. Her hand and head resting against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. His had his arm wrapped around her body, one hand resting of her stomach.

"Let's hope it took darling, though I would not mind trying again with you." Sirius giggled like a little teenage boy.

"Yes let's hope." She laughed along with him.

"I'm going to take you out tomorrow night. Just us. Some place nice. Some place you deserve." Sirius spoke with determination.

"I'd love that a lot Mr. Black." She peppered a few kisses against his chest before closing her eyes to drift off into sleep.

"I'd do anything for you, Mrs. Black."

[stonecoldholly]

Worldwalker

Summary - After witnessing a ritual at a pagan festival in her hometown, Sam suddenly finds herself in a world where magic exists and dangers far worse than everyday crime lurk around every corner. Accepting her unfortunate situation is one challenge; trusting these otherworldly beings to help her is another. As she uncovers the truth, she often finds that it leads to more trouble than it’s worth. Sam must navigate this new world, find her way back home, and restart her life.

With each passing day, they get closer to sending her back and while Sam dedicates herself to finding answers, Azriel finds himself drawn to her. Together, they search for the solution, but with the multiple rifts appearing across Prythian, rising tensions between courts, and the threat of a possible invasion looming, they are working on borrowed time.

With the weight of the world on her shoulders, Sam embarks on an adventure that only happens in fairy tales, but even the most exciting fairy tales have to end.

Warnings - None as of right now, this will change.

Word Count - 6,738

A/N - I meant to get this out before Halloween but time got away from me. This is officially my return to writing fanfiction and I am beyond excited. I hope you enjoy the story and feel free to comment, message, and critique as it makes me a better writer. Thank you for taking the time to read this as it means more to me than you will ever know. Please bear with me as I continue to refresh my memory on how everything works and what it is supposed to look like behind the scenes of posting, you'll notice I still have yet to figure out how to page break on here. Without further ado!

Part 2

AO3 Link

“Run boy, run! This world is not made for you. Run boy, run! They’re trying to catch you. Run boy, run! Running is a victory. Run boy, run! Beauty lies behind the hills.” Run boy run – Woodkid

Savannah, Georgia, USA October 2024

Savannah, a relatively small city nestled along the coastline of Georgia, had begun to awaken from the deep slumber taken during the hot summer months. With the ushering in of the cooler weather, more and more tourists returned to their hometowns and left the coastal city in the hands of the residents. When the latter half of the year finally came around, specifically September and October, Savannah seemed to come alive. The entire city shifted into a completely different energy. Gone were the dog days of summer, the half-naked people (both drunk and sober) stumbling along the old cobblestone streets, and the poor, unfortunate souls who dared to brave the original stone steps that connected Bay Street to River Street. In their stead, a welcoming scent of freshly baked goods and rich cinnamon danced on the cool breeze between the buildings, coffee shops overflowed with customers seeking a hot beverage, and the storefronts already pushing Christmas decorations out in hopes of being the first to rake in profits.

The very city seemed to have a heartbeat around this time of year. The Old Towne trolley tours that normally showed tourists the more historical locations downtown turned into hearse rides and ghost hunting tours. The magical and haunting energy of the old city pulsed as the sun went down, the oak trees drooping in Spanish moss reached over every street and park square, and the shadows that climbed along the historic cemetery gates only added a layer of mystery and intrigue.

They say Savannah was built upon graveyards. Everywhere a person steps in the downtown area, they would likely be stepping upon bones of those long since passed, having been relocated from their original resting place due to floods, hurricanes, and other disasters. Legend says that almost every house, business, and square in the city has a ghost story of its own, unique to the former residents who lived there and continuously embellished as the years passed on.

Perhaps that’s what draws people to this city. Savannah was dripping rich in history and had a way of accepting those who were just looking for something more. It had southern charm, incredible food, amazing people from all walks of life, and always something happening to entertain you. That’s not without saying it did not have its ugly parts but the way Savannah just seemed to call out to those who wanted something different in life was unlike anything that could be described, at least not accurately. However, it was the last quarter of the year when the city gave its mightiest call, reaching out to those who had questions in their minds. It caressed that small part of the soul of those who questioned life and who needed to seek out the answers.

Was there more to life than this?

Where is my place in the world?

Am I destined for more?

What was I put here for?

“It’s Savannah during Halloween season! We have to go. Do you know how hard it probably was to convince the churches to allow a pagan festival to happen?” A female voice yelled out excitedly from the front end of the small ‘Mom & Pop’ restaurant.

“They probably had a couple thousand reasons to look the other way, Mel.” Another female voice answered from the back end, her deep red hair coming into view through the serving window. “However, it’s not me that you have to convince, I’m down, it’s your fiancee over there who looks like he’s about five seconds away from completely crashing out.”

Melissa turned her head to take in her fiancee, who indeed was looking a little worse for wear, having the early morning shift for the Savannah Police Department. She sighed and turned back towards the serving window, “Poor guy has had it rough this past week. There’s been a lot of crazy things happening around town lately.”

A hum in acknowledgment met Mel’s ear, along with the appearance of food plates on the landing. “Doesn’t help that you won’t stop jumping his bones every chance you can. Maybe the guy can actually get some decent sleep if you and I go out.” Sam grinned while motioning to the three plates of food she made for dinner for her and her friends.

Mel let out a deep belly laugh, a smile stretching across her beautiful face as she took in the chicken parmesan and garlic knots, “Oh fuck you, Sam, I can’t help it if my man just oozes sex appeal.”

Sam made a gagging noise before disappearing behind the wall. Mel walked over to her fiancee, Josh, and relayed the plans for the evening while setting a plate of food in front of him. For a brief second, relief crossed his expression and Sam, who had just emerged from the kitchen, caught the look and snickered, causing Mel to roll her eyes. Josh cracked a smile, pressing a kiss to Mel’s cheek and brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “You two have fun and be safe; I’m going home and relaxing, I only ask that you don’t call me from the jail again.” Josh nodded in thanks for the food to Sam, who nodded back.

Mel whipped around to glare and point at Sam, who threw her hands up in mock innocence, her eyes wide and mouth agape to portray said innocence. “She’s the one who got into the fight, not me!”

“Hey, I was defending you! Ain’t no way I was gonna allow that guy talk to you that way. Ain’t no way.”

“And the firearm charge?”

“It was simply on my person.” Sam defended herself with a halfhearted shrug, grabbing her plate and joining the table. “I’m legal; I have a concealed carry and that charge was dismissed because of my paperwork. You gave me grief enough when you picked me up from the county jail.”

“Anyhow,” Mel interrupted before that particular conversation could go any further, sitting down at the table across from her man. “Maybe tomorrow we can go to the pumpkin patch? I heard there was gonna be hayrides and a corn maze.”

“The big one outside the city limits?” Josh asked while leaning back in his chair, chewing. He pulled out his phone as he did, tapping the screen to find what he was looking for. “If it’s the one I’m thinking of then it has a huge corn maze, it’s a lot of farmland out there.”

“I haven’t been to a pumpkin patch in ages.” Sam sighed, tearing into a garlic knot. “I think the last time I went was when I was like, thirteen? My mom took me the year before she passed.”

Mel grinned and grabbed her hand causing Sam to pull her garlic knot out of the way, thinking Mel was trying to swipe it. “We have to go, relive the good parts of our childhood for like, two hours.”

“As long as I get a candy apple, I’m golden,” Josh said looking down at his phone and waving his hand in dismissal. “Yeah, it was the one I was thinking of. It’s about an hour and a half away, so if we leave tomorrow afternoon at 3ish we’ll get there as the sun goes down. I just have to go to the station and finish some paperwork in the morning.”

“Being mindful of Savannah traffic, we’ll get there at the perfect time!” Mel exclaimed nearly bouncing in her seat. “God, I love fall!”

Sam smiled at her best friend as she watched the excitement spill out of her, Josh succumbing to the pure happiness that Melissa seemed to exude as well. It had been a long time for all of them to look forward to something. Having adult friendships was a delicate act of balancing your personal life and work life and still, somehow, making time for your relationships. In the midst of life’s chaos, going nearly three months and then a year without spending time with those you love sometimes felt like it passed in a blink of an eye. Life has a funny way of either pulling you together or tearing you apart.

Samantha and Melissa had met at a previous job, working in retail brought people together through combined suffering, after all. There was no other way to describe the beautiful friendship that blossomed between the two polar opposites. Melissa was a high-energy, outgoing, and excitable woman who always seemed to breathe new, unfiltered life into any situation she found herself in. She was the person you could count on to lift your spirits up whenever you were feeling down and to offer sound advice in the midst of turmoil. She had this childlike energy to her, a precious and beautiful soul that radiated happiness to those around her. She was the life of any party, loved being around other people, and couldn’t stand to see someone upset thus making it her personal mission to enhance their mood before parting ways. With her golden waves and bright, stunning crystal blue eyes, it was hard not to feel as if you were in the presence of the summer sun personified.

Meanwhile, Sam was her opposite. She was more fiery, headstrong, and opinionated, preferring to “strike first, ask questions later”. While she didn’t mind being around others, she liked the company of herself, having been alone for over half of her life. Her temper sometimes ran a bit too hot, always willing to defend those she cared about even if they were wrong, and took risks that were better left...not taken. She sometimes came off as sarcastic and rude but wasn’t intentionally vicious. With her darker clothes, sleeves of tattoos, and combat boots coupled with her attitude problem, she didn’t have many people rushing up to her to be in her presence. A loyal friend who would go to the ends of the Earth to ensure they knew how much they were worth it. Where Melissa was a summer day, Samantha was a stormy night; two sides of the same coin.

Josh was the perfect match for Melissa. She had met him at a party on the beach four summers ago back when the world was on the verge of going to hell. It was an instant whirlwind, the connection so deep and real that it even took Sam’s breath away. Josh and Melissa fell so hard in love with each other that even God himself wouldn’t be able to pull them apart. Sam could see the difference in her, could see the good it was doing for Melissa, and it warmed her heart to know her best friend was being treated the way she deserved after all the hardship Mel had gone through. Josh worked for the Savannah police as a detective for over six years. Meaning, that he didn’t have a lot of free time but every spare moment he had, he spent with Mel, and Sam by proxy. Josh was level-headed and calm, preferring to get all the information before making a decision. He was sure of himself, knowing his strengths and weaknesses better than the average 30-year-old would. Josh became the equivalent of the brother she never had as Melissa was the sister she was not blessed to grow up with. As Sam’s family was gone, they became the next best thing.

“Well, if we’re gonna go, let’s head out. It’s almost 9 o’clock and I’m missing the Packers game for you.” Sam said, standing up and walking to the drink cooler to grab a Sprite to go.

“Ah, you do love me.” Melissa teased.

“What? Don’t want to see the Eagles make cheese whiz out of your Cheeseheads?” Josh smirked, settling back in his chair and crossing his arms.

Sam raised an eyebrow, turning to face him as she threw two dollars on the table for her soda. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you over our four Superbowl rings. How many do y’all have?” She tilted her head to look at him. “Oh, right, ever since y’all finally won one, you think you made it up here with the big boys.”

“Now, y’all please don’t sta-”

“At least we didn’t buy our championships.”

“Bret Favre wasn’t poppin’ percocets on the sidelines for all those years for you to say we bought our championships and Aaron Rodgers didn’t lead the Packers to the Superbowl within the first two years there. Get outta my face.” Sam said, waving him off. “While you’re wondering if we bought our championships, you should figure out why you go through quarterbacks as quickly as you do.”

“We fought hard for that ring, like Kelce said, hungry dogs run faster.”

“So hard in fact, you had nothing left to give and choked when facing the Chiefs.” She shook her head and gave him a mock pout, her voice dropping to a faux whisper. “I’ll be sure to contact the Eagles and confirm if they are available to be your pallbearers...just so they can let you down one last time.”

Josh, pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, releasing a stressed breath of air from his lungs, muttering under his breath. “I swear to everything that is holy…”

Sam pointed towards the front of the restaurant while Melissa stood there with her hands on her hips, clearly over this argument. “Would that be ‘in vain’ or is that a form of ‘blasphemy’? There’s a church right there, we can go ask.” She took a sip of her soda before adding, “I don’t know why you’re so defensive, you started it.”

“And that’ll do it!” Josh threw his hands up and started to push the two women toward the door. “Y’all have a good time, don’t drink too much, keep your wits about you, and for the love of Christ, Sam, do not get into any fights. I’ll lock up the restaurant.”

Sam stepped down onto the sidewalk turning to face Josh and Mel following her lead, stumbling a little bit as she chuckled at her love. “I don’t go lookin’ for them, ya know.”

“Yes, but they do seem to seek you out.” Josh cracked a grin in her direction, handing his credit card to his girlfriend who took it and slid it into her wallet. Sam patted her holster on her hip, double-checking that her weapon was secured and silently letting Josh know that they would be okay. “Be safe. I’ll be at the house, bring me back some candy!”

Mel kissed him with a whispered ‘I love you’ before the two women bounded off down the street. Josh’s chanting of ‘Fly, Eagles, Fly!’ could be heard before the door of the restaurant closed behind him. Sam resisted the urge to throw her drink back at him.

______________________________________________

River Street was bustling with tents, vendors, music, food trucks, and performances by the time they made it the few city blocks. The cobblestone street was swarmed with people chatting excitedly about the upcoming holiday while snacking on the never-ending choices of food, desserts, and drinks. Vendors lined up alongside each other, the Savannah River a beautiful, glistening backdrop to the practitioners doing their workings, teachings, and demonstrations for the surrounding groups.

Of course, there were the faux pagan vendors who were there to simply sell Halloween-related objects and decorations. Harry Potter merchandise littered the tables and tents, gemstones both real and fake were scattered in dishes and bowls, and apparel tables had rock bands on their graphic shirts. It was clear which vendors saw this event as a quick get-rich scheme and who saw it as their livelihood. It was the latter that drew Sam and Melissa to events like these.

Magic had always intrigued Sam. Mythology, tarot, and astrology held a special place in her heart and soul as she was introduced to them at a young age by her mother. She remembers walking into her mother's bedroom and seeing a strange-looking mirror propped up on a table with purple candles on either side of it. Her mother had ushered her over, wrapping an arm around her small shoulders and letting her have a look, saying something she couldn’t understand in her ear. Sam would never forget that night as that was the night that allowed her to fall in love with magic and something other.

Perhaps that’s what brought them to the vendor down by the river.

A middle-aged man, who looked as ordinary and unremarkable as any stranger, was talking animatedly with his hands, gesturing back and forth between the crowd, clearly in the middle of his presentation. “The Wild Hunt! In mythology and at its basic explanation, is a chase. These figures would be hunted by the souls of the dead and they would need to escape and get to safety or hide.” The man explained, pointing to paintings and imagery to make his tale easier for the group to follow along. “It’s a well-known folk myth across Northern Europe; a ghostly leader and his group of hunters and hounds fly through the cold night sky and anyone found outdoors at the time would be swept up into the hunting party involuntarily.

“Most often in the tales,” He went on as he pointed to a painting that looked like the Norse god, Odin, and a hunting party behind him as he led the charge through a forest. “The Hunt was not seen – only heard- typically by the barking of Odin’s dogs or the forest growing deathly silent as a warning of their arrival as seeing the Wild Hunt was thought to forebode some catastrophe such as war or plague, or at least, the death of the person who saw it.”

Sam took a closer look at the paintings as the man motioned to a painting depicting what looked like a warrior woman running through woods, a gang of ghostly figures behind her, lunging forward to grab her but not quite being fast enough. The paintings, she could have sworn, seemed to move. “It is said that if the Wild Hunt catches you, you will be taken to the underworld or the fairy kingdoms,” A few teenage boys snickered. “In some instances, some people's spirits could be taken during their sleep if they had witnessed the Hunt.”

“So, you mean to tell me,” One of the teenage boys started, “If I see a ghost, they’re going to grab me and take me to a fairy kingdom?” He scoffed and Sam fought the urge to roll her eyes. Mel just sighed and shook her head. “Will I be a King if they do?”

The man, ever patient, shook his head with a smile. “No, that’s not what I am telling you. Back then, when people had no other sources of information but their legends, stories, and upbringing, they believed in multiple gods, worlds, and creatures both good and bad. If their crops didn’t fare well that year, they sometimes believed they were cursed by a god or a creature from their lands who had sabotaged them. They needed explanations for what they saw, witnessed. Folklore sought to bring understanding to what was unexplainable at the time. Who's to say that it didn’t happen? Who's to say that it doesn’t still happen?”

The boy looked ready to retort, but the stranger carried on without giving him time to form a response. “Just because you do not believe it, does not mean that others do not believe it. Where do you think the stories of the Bible come from? Old wives' tales? Traditions? All these stories, these legends, came from people who believed what they saw and retold them for generations and generations. Yes, the details do change a bit but they all come from some facet of truth.”

The boy snapped his mouth shut and seemed to reflect on what he had said. He was right in a sense and while the boy probably had multiple arguments against it; he didn’t voice them because he knew there was something in the way the man held himself, how he said it, that told him it was true.

“Some mythologies believe the Wild Hunt falls around the same time as our Samhain, or Halloween, others believe it to be around the Winter Solstice, or near Christmas.” He continued on as if the brief disagreement didn’t happen and handed out a little booklet. “You don’t want to be outside when the ghostly procession of the Wild Hunt surges past. You may be sucked into their dark frenzy, with or without your body along for the ride.”

Sam smiled and took one of the booklets, thanking him in response. Mel did the same and started to leaf through the pamphlet detailing more about The Wild Hunt. Sam couldn’t help but look at the paintings again, the winged beings striking against the sky above with what looked like a human army below them, weapons drawn and aiming for the ghostly host. It was incredible to look at, the paintings seemingly coming to life the longer she stared. A shiver ran down her spine and a metallic taste coated her tongue.

“A ritual….over...right there.”

Sam turned around at the voice she heard, catching the couple down the sidewalk who were having a conversation. She nudged Mel, who looked up confused. “Huh?”

“There’s a ritual happening, that couple said it’s happening over there.” Sam nodded her head in the direction the couple had indicated.

Mel furrowed her brows, looking at the couple and then back at her friend. “You heard them from all the way down there? They’re like...30 yards away.”

Sam shrugged, not thinking much of it. “I only heard snippets and filled in the rest with body language.”

Mel shook her head but nevertheless dragged her in the direction she indicated. “You and your weird hearing.”

Whatever it was that Sam had expected to see when getting to the ritual, did not even come close. The second she crossed into the cluster of people, she felt an energy in the air, and the metallic taste got stronger. Her whole body seemed to respond, vibrating in response, warmth settling in her belly and chills breaking out along her skin. One glance at Mel told her that she, too, felt the shift and her body was at a loss as to what to do.

The moon was vaulted in the sky, shining brightly above the Talmadge Bridge; the light pollution blocked a lot of the stars from being visible. A heaviness seemed to settle along the river and the air was getting thicker. The flickering heat of the small fires scattered around in a circle attempted to chase away the goosebumps rising on the surface of her skin. There was an uneasy shifting of the crowd, some dispersing altogether to try and outrun the energy their bodies clearly were not comfortable with. Sam couldn’t blame them, it was intense. It was one of those moments that you knew you were witnessing something real, without a shadow of a doubt. The very air told your bones to sing, to rise, and join in. The flames beckoned you closer, ensnaring your senses and holding you and your attention hostage and Sam was no different.

It was mesmerizing to watch the participants. The way the fire danced in the center of the circle and seemed to reach out towards the torches in their hands. Their steps were effortless, so graceful it almost hurt to watch how they glided around each other, seamlessly weaving in and out from between the other and flowing towards that centerfire. They went around and around, spinning in a fluid dance, almost willing the fire to rise higher and dance with them.

An older woman, dressed in a long, tweed skirt and simple white tunic, spoke in an old language that Sam couldn’t begin to decipher. Her voice was steady and soothing, reciting the ritual's dialogue as if it was secondhand nature to her, and perhaps it was. The smooth tone of her words completely enraptured witnesses who had stopped to watch, a lot of them clutching their chests and staring wide-eyed as if their god would come down and strike them where they stood for just witnessing this act.

But Sam was spellbound, completely at the mercy of these women spinning around the fire and singing in a language that clearly no one else understood. Whatever the words were, it was awakening something buried deep inside Sam’s bones, something long forgotten or hidden. She stepped closer to the ritual, her eyes unblinking as she lost herself. The women in the twirling circles were blurs around her, the older woman’s voice turning into a murmuring the longer she stared, daring another step towards the ritual.

Come. Come. Come.

She would. She would answer the calling that seemed to tug her closer to the dancing, the music, the voice. It held such promise, such hope that Sam felt the urge to barrel forward into the dance. Such a longing ached so furiously in her chest that it caused a sliver of fear to drop into her stomach.

Come. Come. Come.

It was a whisper, a soft plead. It grabbed hold of her gut and tugged her along, closer, closer, closer. She couldn’t resist the call, not even if her life depended on it. It was like her body wasn’t her own anymore; that it was moving on its own accord and every signal sent from her brain was being intercepted by the energy in the air, diverting it to the ether.

Come and find what you are looking for.

She didn’t even realize she had stepped out of the crowd, almost falling into place with the women who had stopped dancing around the fire and had their hands lifted up towards the night sky. The woman was still speaking but if Sam didn’t know any better, she would have sworn the woman was speaking directly to her; that the language she didn’t understand just a minute ago, were words spoken as clear as day.

It’s waiting for you. A blessing from the Mother.

A burst of color exploded behind her eyes and she stumbled back into the crowd, clutching her head as ringing echoed in her ears. The fire in the center of the dancers flared higher and brighter and a collective gasp was released by participants and witnesses alike but Sam was trying to get her vision back, to shake the underwater feeling that seemed to swim in her ears.

Mel rushed forward and grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face her in alarm, “Are you okay? What the hell was that? You could have gotten hurt!”

Sam rubbed her eyes to clear the kaleidoscope of colors racing through her sight, “I-I don-”

“You almost walked righ’ into the performance! What’s gotten into you?” Mel asked as the southern accent she tried so hard to mask slipped through. Her eyes narrowed as she took in her friend's bewildered expression. “Are you alrigh’?”

Sam reassured, rubbing her eyes and running a hand through dark burgundy hair, the firelight enhancing the deep purple hues. “Ye-yeah, I’m good. Fine.”

Mel stared at her for a few seconds longer, assessing the lie for what it was but nodded along. “Let’s grab those mini pumpkins we saw and head home. I know damn well Josh doesn’t expect me to carry three fully grown pumpkins back home at nearly midnight.” She said in a huff before stalking off towards the pumpkin vendor’s tent down the river.

Sam had enough time to force a chuckle at her and once she was down the sidewalk, she looked up at the woman who had been speaking during the ritual. Their eyes connected, old and wise blue eyes seemed to convey a message to Sam’s own bright green ones. A knowing gaze that made Sam bristle uncomfortably and rush after her friend toward the vendors still selling their wares.

Three mini pumpkins, a caramel apple, and an overabundance of candy were stashed into the bag that Mel toted down the cobblestone streets. Sam was uncharacteristically quiet, her mind still reeling with the events that took place but Mel was trying her best to distract her, chatting aimlessly about whatever vendor she had gotten the pumpkins from. She could feel the beginnings of a headache creeping along her skull and she longed for a couple Advil and some caffeine to help chase it away.

“Sammi, are you sure you don’t wanna stay the night? You know Josh and I don’t mind.” Mel looked at her again, concern gracing her features and Sam felt her heart tug at the emotion there. “You’re more than welcome to the guest room.”

She nodded, nudging her shoulder against Mel’s with a small smile. “I’m sure. Trust me, all I need is my bed and the upstairs neighbors stomping on the floor to lull me to sleep.”

“Oh, you mean the herd of elephants?” She smiled, a little of that concern easing from her face. “I’m worried about you, Sam, something just didn’t seem right with you today.”

“I wish I knew,” Sam started, turning the corner towards Mel’s apartment. “I’m just as lost as you are.”

The night got a little cooler by the time Sam walked Mel to her door, Josh’s soft snoring wafting out from what Sam knew was the living room. She nodded goodnight, telling her she would text when she woke up and made sure she got inside and locked the door before she began her own trek home.

Sam didn’t live far from Mel, just down three blocks and a turn to the left, where a small (and outrageously overpriced) apartment is what she called home. Living in downtown Savannah, you had nearly everything at your fingertips and it was more of a hindrance to own a car than it was to walk. More likely to have it broken into, stolen, or clipped by a passing car as on-street parking was almost the only option, back alleys the second. No, Sam was fine with walking home no matter the time of day or night, having her own assurance of her protection secured to the waistband of her jeans or strapped to her thigh.

Her mind drifted back to the events of the night and what she felt afterward, her thoughts running near rampant with questions as she sidestepped a break in the cobblestones. She was doing her best to filter the questions and find logical solutions to them, knowing her own limitations of knowledge. While she was staring at the ground just ahead of her, she wasn’t exactly paying a lick of attention.

Did I really witness a ritual, a real ritual? What was it for? Sam definitely believed that what she saw was the real deal and not what movies try so hard to replicate. The air itself had felt different as if it had come to life, not to mention the effects that it had on her body and those around her. She also didn’t know what it was for, having missed any possible explanation by staring at the flames.

The strange colors? She ruled out a brain tumor or aneurysm a while ago. Perhaps it was a migraine, her head did hurt.

Why did I hear a voice? Perhaps it was just her mind filling in the missing information? Provide a reason why for stepping forward and entering the sacred ritual circle? She talked to herself all the time so she knew what that sounded like in her head, but that voice was different.

But why did I enter the circle? Why did I listen to the voice? She felt called to step forward and she did. She answered the call that her body was singing. She had completely lost control over her motor functions.

It doesn’t make sense, something isn’t right. No, she knew something wasn’t right. Why else would she suddenly have what felt like an out-of-body experience?

Something isn’t right. Yes, she already covered that and was aware that something wasn’t right. She wouldn’t pretend that the entire event didn’t scare her, or make her nervous. As of right now, she felt like she was going to jump out of her skin simply by running through what happened. Memories of the ritual flashed through her mind's eye and she suppressed a shudder, the cold sliver of fear settling down in her gut again.

Something is wrong.

Sam stopped walking and looked up from the cobblestones, instantly alert. The street was silent, eerily still, not even a rustle of leaves or a squirrel running along the branches. The breeze stopped and the trees seemed to rear back, pulling themselves away from their natural tilt towards the street. The silence became deafening and Sam turned around to look down the block. Only the lights from the lampposts and shadows met her.

Even though she was alone, something was indeed wrong.

Sam discreetly patted her hip, finding comfort in the heavy weight of metal that consisted of her Ruger. She took a deep breath and continued her journey, never changing her pace as she made her way home. Sam looked at every reflective surface as she passed, trying to get a look behind her while keeping calm. Store fronts, car windows and mirrors, even the shiny gloss layer on the street signs; anything that could aid her in figuring out what was going on as she tried to keep her head.

Clearly, she was either being watched or followed, or both. It made her as uneasy as she had ever been, even with her surefire protection on her. Every intake of breath felt like it was being stolen from her. Her mind wanted to run rampant with anxiety but she willed herself to remain as calm as she could. She needed to stay calm and aware.

It wasn’t until she hit the corner of the square that she felt the immediate urge to run. The intensity of it nearly sent her heart into a wild gallop and her hands started to tremble with the building adrenaline. The sudden feeling lit a fire under her skin, she couldn’t recall making the conscious decision to run but within a split second, she bolted into the square. Dodging trash cans and benches, weaving around trees, and out onto the other side where she took off like a bullet down the cobblestone street.

The intense fear slammed into her body, her legs carrying her as fast as they could and her lungs squeezing every ounce of air out and greedily sucking it back in to fuel her mad dash. She needed a place to hide. She couldn’t go back to her apartment and she wouldn’t go to Mel’s house either. She needed a neutral spot to take cover and wait out this unseen being. She needed to hide.

She heard the footsteps behind her as she ran down the road, skidding to a halt almost a half second too late to swing herself around a lamppost and accelerate herself down the street. The cobblestones made it difficult to run, bits and pieces of stone jutting up or the sand filling in between being nonexistent and creating holes. She did her best to keep her pace, her boot getting caught up twice, in the attempt to lose her pursuer. She was being chased by something she couldn’t see, but she could hear it. She looked down the alleyways and side streets as she passed, trying to find somewhere, anywhere, to hide.

She scrambled around a turn onto a side street and darted down the dirt-covered road. She could feel whoever or whatever was chasing her getting closer, almost like a sixth sense. She could feel the change in the air and knew they were almost on her. All they had to do was reach out and grab her, and if they did, she would go down fighting.

“I need a place to hide.” She breathed out, over and over again as she ran.

Her lungs were on fire and her side cramped but she continued to push herself to her limits. She cut across another main road and down into another side street, spinning herself into a turn towards an alley. Her legs kept pushing and burning while carrying her weight. Her arms pumping as fast as they could and her heart beating so wildly it was about to come out of her chest. She didn’t have anywhere to go, she wasn’t losing her tail, and she couldn’t run anymore. Her body was on the brink of giving out.

She didn’t have time to slow herself down or stop when she realized she was reaching a dead end in the alley. It was already too late. She braced her arms out in front of her, intending to take the brutal impact of her speed coming to a halt at the wall, but the surface rippled.

Sam didn’t have time to think about the shimmering boundary before she fell straight through it and into a void of emptiness.

_________________________________________

A ripple shuddered through Prythian. Feyre’s brow furrowed as she looked up from her canvas and Rhysand turned his attention to the windows overlooking Velaris. Azriel walked to the edge of the balcony, taking note of anything out of place along the Sidra, his shadows scattering away from him at his command.

Cassian set down his training sword as another ripple caressed the wards standing strong around the Night Court, scanning the skies; Amren and Nesta emerged from the House of Wind, glancing around as if something was waiting to attack them.

“What was that?” Nesta asked as Cassian stepped closer to the ledge of the balcony. His eyes searched the sky and the rooftops of the buildings below as Nesta came to stand beside him. “Are we under att-”

Another ripple trembled through the wards, and eerie stillness settled around the city. The birds from the cluster of trees down below took flight and headed north towards the mountain range.

“No, I don’t believe we are being attacked,” Rhysand answered as he joined his family outside on the landing, his eyes still overlooking the city. “But something is definitely wrong.”

“Az, anything?” Feyre called out to the Shadowsinger who had started to walk towards them.

Azriel took another look towards the Sidra as a shadow curled around his ear. “Nothing definitive yet, but whatever it is, it’s coming from the south.” He looked to the High Lord, his face settling into a cool mask as he awaited his inevitable orders.

Rhys hummed in agreement, nodding in the southern direction. “Take Cass with you, scout the territory lines to the southeast, Feyre and I will take the southwest section. Mor, send a message to Helion making him aware that we will be crossing into the Day Court. Thesan as well, just in case this takes us further south into Dawn than we anticipate.”

“Should we be alerting them to what we’re doing? Perhaps we should keep it among ourselves.” Mor responded as she rose from the bench.

“If we all felt that, I’m sure we are not the only ones.” Rhys replied, “Besides, it is common courtesy to inform them when crossing into their lands. I doubt Helion would mind, but until we know what we are dealing with, we do it by the book.”

Mor nodded and set off inside the House to write the messages to the High Lords as Azriel and Cassian tapped their center siphons to don their fighting leathers.

“Amren, monitor Velaris. Nesta, guard the House and keep Elain inside until further notice.” Rhys delegated as Feyre also disappeared inside the House. “All of you, stay on your guard, report back here by no later than tomorrow evening. Do not take chances until we know what we are up against.”

With that, he turned on his heel to follow his mate back inside the House. Azriel and Cassian immediately took flight. Cassian threw a wink in Nesta’s direction and disappeared through the clouds with Azriel, their figures fading in the distance as they headed south.