#hope it was angsty enough for you bb!!

[nohoney]

k… sweetness I am in the heaviest mood for angst could u pretty pretty please write some for us 😞

angst for u darling╰(● ⋏ ●)╯

“Fuck you! Why won’t you listen to me?! I’m here, crying, and all you do is just roll your eyes at me!” You shout at him, replaying another bad fight that’s been happening too often in the past few months. His reactions have been the same lately. The impatience, the annoyance, the flippant answers he gives that only make everything worse.

Maybe you are too sensitive, maybe you ask for too much, maybe you could be more understanding of his side. But how much more understanding do you have to give your own boyfriend before he finally at least gives you some fraction of empathy that you need.

“All you ever do is cry! You find some reason to flip out on me and I have to gather you up and put you back together again! It’s exhausting!” your own boyfriend tells you.

He’s always been a little angry, always had a little bit of attitude, and he’d always snap first before he calmed down. There used to be a time that Bakugou would at least attempt to reconcile. He tried in the beginning. A part of you blames yourself, that perhaps all your neediness wore him down and he was fed up.

He was the one telling you in the beginning to always tell him what was on your mind. Now it seemed that when you finally did, there was nothing but resentment. You had gotten to used to seeing him angry at you, his red eyes glaring and his mouth set in a frown.

“You realize that you’re making a big deal of nothing right? You upset yourself and take it out on me!” Bakugou shouts, “I’m not a punching bag for when you feel like shit and I’m tired of your shitty reasons to start fights!”

Are they shitty? Are you making a big deal out of nothing again? Why is it if it’s nothing to him then it should be nothing to you? Is it so bad that you don’t like when he leaves during a fight? Is it awful that when he asks for space you blow up his phone demanding he answer you? Is it so bad that you get so angry you throw glasses against the wall because otherwise you’d punch your own mirror?

All these feelings well up and they go out of control. How many broken promises have you made to swear that you wouldn’t blow up again? Too many to count and here you were failing him again.

You say the same words whenever this happens and Bakugou sees it coming.

“You treat my feelings like they’re an inconvenience!” You tell him. You don’t feel seen or heard by him. Bakugou used to tell you that he’d rather you be honest about how you feel rather than keep quiet to keep the peace.

The routine is supposed to be that he rolls his eyes again, sits on the chair and argues a little more until you break down in more tears. He supposed to stop once you start bawling and he plays clean up. He only acknowledges afterwards that he should listen to you and he’s sorry that he’s stubborn and he’ll beg you to just calm down and swear that he’ll listen this second time.

“Just shut the fuck up!!”

And the world around you stops. The usual routine of a fight is thrown off instead of more crying, you’re stunned silent as you look at him. Bakugou has been disrespectful of your feelings before and vice versa there were times you didn’t respect his time to speak.

Never though had he ever spoken so harshly to you like this.

It worked though; you stopped crying. A part of you shrivels up inside and now you want to curl up in a ball and just hide away from the world. His hands touch your shoulders and he calls your name, trying to take back the awful words he shouted at you. “Baby, baby I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Please, don’t push me away! Baby-“ he’s pleading, not trying to be forceful on you but you shake off his touch.

Bakugou would always hug you after a fight, even if he was still angry at you and was still working off the residual. When he tries to pull you into that hug, for once you shrug out of his hold. You opt to lean against the wall for support. Lightheadedness creeps in and you feel a bit dizzy and your only goal is to make it to bed.

You don’t know what else to do except sleep away the numbness.

His words repeat over and over.

“Babe, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that!” Bakugou is frantic behind you, unsure how to handle the sudden fragility that he’s brought on you. Screaming and screaming until you cry and make up is the only thing he knows. “Please, look at me! Don’t—babe, wait! It’s fucking three in the afternoon, why are you going in bed? We’ll talk, okay! I’ll listen!”

Suddenly you’re so tired, crawling underneath the quilt without even changing out of your indoor clothes into your comfy lounge shirt and shorts. Curling up, you face away from him. Away from his side of the bed and his pillow.

And Bakugou stands helpless, his apologies meaning nothing and wishing that you would at least curse him out like you did before.

[zoeykallus]

TBB x Gender-neutral Reader (Extended) HCs – Lost Something? Part 2/3/4/5

(Echo/Wrecker/Tech/Crosshair)

Warnings: Partly Slightly Suggestive/Mostly Fluff/Tiny Bit Angsty

This is the continuation of this request:

Reader stole the batcher's weapon. Let's see how they get it back.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

Echo

Echo runs through the Marauders like a startled chicken, followed by the confused looks of his team. "Has anyone seen my blaster?" Hunter, who is putting on his gloves, looks over at him. "You lost your blaster?" Echo sighs annoyed and says, "No I haven't" Wrecker says with a raised eyebrow, "But you can't find it" "Yeah" Tech shrugs his shoulders without looking up from his holopad and says, "Sounds to me like you lost it" Echo waves it off in annoyance and insists, "No I haven't. I never lose parts of my equipment" It annoys him that he doesn't know where his blaster is, he was sure he'd left it with the rest of his gear when he went to bed that night and he says so. Crosshair leans out of his bunk, rolling a toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other before saying. "You didn't go to bed alone last night I take it"

Echo's ears turn red. He pauses briefly in his movement, then turns to the Sniper. "What makes you think that?" Crosshair smirks, takes the toothpick out of his mouth and says, "You were alone on the Marauder for most of the night, I assume you took advantage of that fact." Wrecker asked excitedly, "Ooooh, Echo has a lover? Instead of answering, Echo rushes out of the room, locks himself in the cockpit and immediately starts a holo-call. His heart is pounding in his throat as your face appears on the holo, not just because he's upset and excited, the sight of you alone is enough to raise his pulse. "Took you long enough," you say with a cheeky smile. "You've got my blaster" It's not a question, it's a statement. Inwardly, he's annoyed that Crosshair thought of it before him. You lift the blaster into the holo for him to see. Echo lets out a deep sigh, relieved, a little annoyed. "I need it back," he says sternly.

You smile unperturbed and say, "I thought so. Then come and get it" "But-" You hang up before he can finish the sentence. A little stunned, Echo stares at the spot where the holo with your face used to be. When Echo comes out of the cockpit, he literally stomps through the main room towards the ramp. Hunter asks him cautiously, "Where are you going?" "Spanking someone's ass," Echo growls. "Kinky." Echo's eyes spark as he snaps, "Shut Up, Crosshair" The Sniper leans back in his bunk, unimpressed, chuckling softly.

You've been out all day, had some things to do. Echo didn't try to call again. But as you land your shuttle at the usual landing spot and open your ramp, you hear his footsteps on the ramp and in the ship before you even leave the cockpit.

He stops in the doorway to the cockpit, his gaze so serious and stony that at first you can't help but gulp. After a few seconds, you find your voice again. "Have you been waiting on the landing pad all day?" "Yes" The answer is very curt, a little abrupt. He stretches out his remaining hand, challenging you with a steely gaze. You feel yourself shrinking under his gaze as you pull out the blaster and place it in his hand. Echo holsters the weapon directly, still staring at you. "I should spank your behind" You say cheekily, "Okay. Do you want me to take my clothes off first?" Echo raises a brow in confusion, but he doesn't stop you from unbuttoning your flight suit. "Somehow I imagined it would be different," he says, a little beside himself. "Disappointed? Should I stop?" Echo licks his lips and shakes his head.

"Uh, no it's okay, we'll see where this takes us" You laugh softly, kiss his heated cheek and say, "Well, I was hoping to my bunk"

Wrecker

It's a beautiful evening. The weather is warm, but not too hot. The dinner was delicious, and the atmosphere great. A perfect moment to pass the time with Wrecker. The nice thing about Wrecker is that he's up for any kind of nonsense and is anything but a party pooper. You've been fooling around for a while now. You've managed to take his blaster out of its holster and to get it back, Wrecker has been chasing you around the massive dining table on one of the terraces on Pabuu for a few minutes now. The others have long since left the scene, some laughing or grinning, others (Crosshair) rolling their eyes. You giggle happily and change direction every time he tries to trick you. A little out of breath, you tell him, "I won't make it that easy for you!" Wrecker lets out a cheerful laugh that almost sounds like thunder. "I'll get you one way or another, just wait and see" As he changes direction again, you do the same, squealing happily.

"We'll see about that," you answer cheekily. You have to hand it to Wrecker, as impatient as he sometimes is, when it comes to fun and games, he usually has the patience of an angel. You've been running around for so long, your lungs are starting to burn, your faces are flushed with exertion, but you both grin happily when your eyes meet. But then something happens that you don't expect. With a cheerful exclamation, Wrecker grabs the massive table and throws it behind him, removing the barrier between the two of you. He suddenly stands very close to you and grins down at you. You look up at him, still holding his blaster. "Told you I'd get you," he says, amused. "What the hell.... what happened to my table?" You both look to the side, startled, to where an exasperated Phee crosses her slender arms in front of her chest. "Uh," Wrecker begins, "We were just fooling around a bit."

Phee rolls her eyes and asks, "And you had to destroy my table to do that? Who's going to replace it for me?" A sigh is heard from the other direction, followed shortly by Hunter's unmistakable voice. "Wrecker. Care to explain that to me?" The giant shrugs his shoulders and says with a sweeping gesture, "We were fooling around and then things went off the rails" "So nothing new," Hunter sighs, "Do me a favor and go fool around somewhere you can't destroy anything" You look at Wrecker and ask, "Beach?" Wrecker grins broadly at you. "Beach!" he confirms, nodding and running after you. Phee and Hunter look after you both. The squad leader sighs again, whereupon Phee says amusedly, "Those two will be your downfall one day" Hunter laughs softly, "I know"

Tech

Tech is obsessively rummaging through his things in his bunk. "That's not possible..." Crosshair has been watching his brother in silence for a while now, but finally asks, "Did you lose something?" Tech grinds his teeth before answering, "My blasters are gone" Crosshair frowns. "Both of them?" "Both of them," Tech confirms, vigorously adjusting his goggles. "You're a slob, I wouldn't find anything in this mess either," the Sniper grumbles dryly. Tech takes a deep breath, straightens up and looks at his brother seriously. "I'm not a slob," he replies critically "Yes you are, you're a total slob, you hardly ever put anything away. Your bunk looks like a garbage dump" Tech touches his forehead as if he has a headache, then raises his finger in the air and says, "I don't need order to find my way around. I don't have to obsessively tidy everything like you do, no matter how messy my stuff and my bunk are, I always know exactly where my stuff is" Crosshair smirks and teases, "Then you certainly know where your blasters are"

Tech's ears turn red, he turns away and rummages around in his bunk for a while, sighing again and again in frustration. "Didn't you have a visitor yesterday?" Crosshair asks meaningfully. Tech turns back to him. "Yes, I did have a visitor. And?" Crosshair shrugs his shoulders suggestively. "If the blasters are suddenly gone, maybe someone took them." Tech frowns. "No, that can't be. They wouldn't do that. Why would they do that?" Crosshair shrugs again, leans back in his bunk and says, "How should I know? It's not my love interest." With a bright red head, Tech leaves the Marauder to make his way to you.

You are looking out of your window when you see him walking across the courtyard. He seems to be deep in thought and keeps shaking his head. You smile, apparently he has noticed that his blasters are missing. Shortly afterwards, you hear your doorbell ring. Tech keeps his finger on the bell for longer than necessary, a very energetic ring. You press the door opener without using the intercom. When he arrives at your apartment, he has already raised his finger. "How many times do I have to tell you not to just press the door opener? You have to make sure who's at the door, it's dangerous!" You say calmly, "I saw you at the window. But it's sweet that you're worried about me" Tech sighs softly, straightens his shoulders and straightens up a little. "I'd like my blasters back" "That's what I thought. But I want something in return" Tech frowns and asks, "So you stole my blasters to extort something from me?"

Now you frown, "Well, when you put it like that, it sounds so crude and unromantic" His eyebrows move upwards in surprise. He asks confused, "Stealing my blasters was a romantic gesture?" You laugh softly and say as warmth rises in your cheeks, "I was going to ask for some of those sweet kisses you gave me yesterday in exchange" The corners of Tech's mouth twitch, his ears turn red, and he nervously shuffles his foot on the floor. "I only gave you one kiss yesterday. That was our first kiss," he corrects. When he thinks about it, his pulse starts to race again, his heart beats wildly and his body is suddenly filled with this incredible lightness again. "That's right. But now I want more," you say, biting your lower lip. Tech, steps closer and says, "A kiss for every blaster?" "Two per blaster," you say hastily, your ears already glowing hot and your puls racing through you. Tech smirks. "Okay, I think we can do that"

Crosshair

"No" "But-" "No," the Sniper repeats seriously, "This is not a weapon for beginners. You'll learn with the training rifle first and when I think you're ready, I might let you shoot with the Firepuncher" You sigh and roll your eyes. He has just turned his back to you and is putting the training gun away, but still he says, "Stop rolling your eyes. You're learning from me because I'm the professional, so trust my judgment too" "You're stupid," you say, pouting. Crosshair chuckles softly, turns to you and asks, "Then why do you keep coming here to train with me?" You point at his gun and say, "Because I want to shoot that thing someday" His eyebrows move upwards, and he asks, "So you only come here for the Firepuncher?" You shrug your shoulders and say cheekily, "Mostly" "You're a bad liar," Crosshair says, amused. You laugh and ask, "Why? What do you think I came here for?" Crosshair spreads his arms and strikes a pose. "To use my brother's words - isn't it obvious?..."

"You think I'm here for you?" you ask with a grin, "Well, maybe a little, but I think the Firepuncher is hotter" Crosshair laughs and continues packing. "Can't say I blame you" You watch him pack up the gear, then you hear his brother call out to him from the shuttle. "Excuse me a moment," Crosshair says, and disappears up the ramp inside. Your eyes fall on the case with the Firepuncher. You can't help yourself, you can't resist. You open the case, grab the gun and close the case again. You know he'll be angry, but the temptation is just too powerful.

When Crosshair comes out again and sees that you've already left, he sighs softly. He likes your visits, likes talking to you. Whenever you part ways, he feels a certain longing to have you with him for longer. He comforts himself with the thought that you will come back, if only because of the Firpuncher. He smiles and reaches for his weapon case, but his smile freezes. The case is clearly too light. He hastily puts the case back down and opens it. Empty. "You lousy little..." With a growl, the Sniper sets off. He already suspects where you might be.

The rifle is heavier than you expected, just aiming it properly is a challenge. "Maybe I should lie down," you mutter quietly to yourself. "And pull your pants down while you're at it, so I can spank your ass!" Crosshair's smoky voice startles you so much that you hastily turn around with an already embarrassingly high-pitched yelp and drop the gun on the grass. You stumble backwards as he comes towards you and almost fall, but the Sniper grabs the collar of your jacket just in time to hold you steady. "Not only are you stealing my gun, now you're dropping it!" "Not on purpose!" you say hurriedly and adjust your jacket as he lets go of you with a snort. His serious eyes bore into yours, and you don't even dare to blink for a long moment. Cautiously, you ask him, "How upset are you?" Crosshair crosses his arms in front of his chest and sighs heavily. "Very, to say the least." You smile wryly and say, "But you stopped me from falling down, so you don't hate me too much" He rolls his eyes, unknots his arms and picks up the Firepuncher from the grass. "Lie down," he grumbles. "What?" you ask, perplexed.

Impatiently, he snaps his fingers repeatedly and grumbles, "Do you want to learn something or not?" You hastily lie down on your stomach in the grass, Crosshair lies down next to you, presses the rifle into your hands and shows you how to use it properly. "How did you actually find me?" you want to know. Crosshair snorts softly and says almost gently, "This is where we practiced for the first time." "You remember that?" He rolls his eyes and says, "I never forget anything" You take a few practice shots and it goes well. Satisfied, you turn your head in his direction and smile. His expression doesn't say much, but he says, "Not bad for an amateur" As you look at him a little longer, studying the lines on his face, unable to help but admire his face, Crosshair suddenly snaps, "Stop staring at me like a love-struck dove, look at your target" As you hurriedly look forward again, your ears getting hot, a smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. He likes you too, very much so, but he won't tell you anytime soon.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

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[askinkiskarma]

𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕀𝕀: 𝕀 𝔸𝕞 𝕃𝕠𝕤𝕥, 𝔹𝕦𝕥 ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕀𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: in order to fulfil your revenge plans on Neteyam, you have to give up a lot of your life, including a future with a man who loves you dearly.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (@lanasblood trying to be better about this), smut (fingering, orgasm denial), strong language, neteyam and reader being horrible to each other lol

wc: 6.5k words

a/n: things are starting to get spicy besties 😌 i have to admit, although i am a lot more comfortable with friends-to-lovers, or more angsty tropes, i adore writing the sexual tension that comes with e2l and i hope i did it justice and you enjoy this chapter. i can't wait to hear your thoughts, bbs and thank you again for all the love and support on this series xx (thank you very much also to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art ily bestie x)

this is only half proof-read, so if you see any mistakes no you don't

na'vi compendium: yawne - beloved, Tsakarem - Tsa'hik in training, tìlor - beauty, txepvi  - spark

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

In a perfect world, I'd kill to love you the loudest But all I do is live to hurt you soundless Say you see I'm lying, babe, and let this go I can never promise you tomorrow

The departing footsteps echoed through the forest as O'ì'en left you all alone, with a broken heart and the man that broke it, and the feeling left you empty, the hurt of what transpired, of what he did, what you did, how with each passing blow to each other’s lives, this was no longer just a petty rivalry but felt like so much more, like too much more. You threatened him, you spit all sorts of petty warnings about hell and burning - and in the heat of the moment, that sounded cool, and doable. Not anymore, as you stood motionless in the clearing and realised that Neteyam still had so much power over you, that his grasp on your life and on your heart was so tight, tighter than anyone else’s, tight enough to bruise and crush it with a tug of his fisted fingers. You removed yourself from his grasp like his touch burned you, which it felt like it did, and put distance in between your bodies, so that you could see him, so that you could clear your mind, so that his presence wouldn’t have the effect on you it always did, that you were sure was just your body recoiling in hatred, that always manifested itself in goosebumps and shivers down your spine. 

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” The tears stung as you willed them back into your tear ducts. It’s been 7 years since Neteyam has seen you cry, and you’ll be damned if that would ever change, and especially right now, as you watched the smirk grow with every departing step, with every erratic blink of your eyes, as you tried to stop them from falling down your face, as he knew he got to you, that he made you pay for the words you uttered to him before. 

“Oh, yawne. One day you’ll learn to not punch above your weight, and I guess since no one else is willing to, it falls onto me to teach you.” He walks slow, purposeful steps as he nears you once more, and his eyes boring into you, filled with intensity and a feeling you couldn’t quite place, that didn’t quite match the arrogance staining his lips like poison, stilled you in your spot, until he was so close, you could feel his warm breath and musky scent, until your heart boomed painfully in your chest, echoing loudly in your ears, marginally drowning out his next words. 

“Did you really think you could threaten me and everything I’ve worked for, my relationship and the rest of my life, without any repercussions, huh? Did you really think I would go down without a fight?” 

His hand raised and reached to push some unruly strands of hair out of your face, and you couldn’t look away from the soft glimmer in his eyes, that was so at odds with the rest of his face, you wondered if he even knew it was there. You wondered if he knew what it signified, because you didn’t. And despite your best efforts otherwise, you couldn’t deny the curiosity that deluged you, to try and find out.

The hint in his molten golden orbs dissipated as quickly as it appeared, and so did any middling emotion that tried you, as you once more found yourself reaching for your knife and unsheathing it, holding it in between both your hands, aiming for a shoulder… or a neck, and with a feral growl, you pushed your entire forced into the blow, and yelped in pain as one of his hands wrapped around both your wrists and twisted until the knife dropped pitifully on the ground with a loud clink. Tears threatened you once more at how futile the effort had been, how easy for him to overpower you like you were nothing more than a child, or a doll. He pinned your hands above your head and pushed you until your back collided with the bark of a tree and you felt the wind getting knocked out of your lungs at the contact. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… why must you always resort to violence… yawne?” Your eyes widened as the hand that wasn’t holding you ghosted over your cheeks, tracing the air right above your lips with his thumb, and you were struggling, yet again, with the feelings that were plaguing you, that made burning appear everywhere his fingers were, burning the travelled down your body until they reached your core, that throbbed and clenched, that desperately asked you for something you would never, ever give it. After exploring your face, and tracing your jaw, his fingers finally settled on your chin, pushing it gently until your face angled upwards to meet his and no further breath could inch its way down your airways at the sight of him, at the way he looked at you, at the way it made you feel. 

“You told me that you won’t mind burning in Hell as long as I burn with you. Well…” he broke eye contact to look around him at the forest surrounding you both. “Do you hear that, yawne? Fire is catching. And looks like we’re going to get to burn together after all.” 

“Let me go. I told you what would happen if you ever touched me again.” His smirk never faltered, but only deepened as his eyes trailed over your body, settling on your lower abdomen. 

“Mmm, yawne. I’m not sure you mean that.” It was your turn to reciprocate his guise, no ounce of shame or hesitation on your face.

 

“Let me go and you’ll find out whether I mean it or not.” his eyes widened, if only for a split second, and you felt like you imagined his grip on you loosening, or the fleeting sight of goosebumps peppered on his chest and neck, where your warm breath touched him. 

“Are you really going to miss your chance to find lover boy and apologise like the good girl you like people to think you are?”

Your eyes lost momentary focus as he spoke. His words, although as cruel as usual, made guilt peak its ugly head over the thin-veiled curtain it was hiding behind, and you knew he was right. This was irrelevant. This whole fandangle of aggression and snarky remarks you always engaged in was not what should be occupying your brain, it wasn’t what mattered. O'ì'en mattered. Fixing Neteyam’s damage… and your own - that’s the only thing that mattered right now. 

“Funny how quickly you seem to have forgotten about the one you supposedly love so much when I have your hands pinned above your head, isn’t it… yawne.”

His hands trailed over your arm as if on accident as he let you go and you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at his words, at his effect on you, at how hard you were fighting your own body and mind as they were struggling to regain composure from his touch, and his voice, and his presence.

Hate. That’s all it was. It consumed you, and you wish it didn’t, but at the end of the day, it was still just harmless, bona fide, unadulterated hate. You ignored the way your cheeks caught fire and burned beneath your skin as you ran towards the village, towards where you assumed O’i’en was headed, without sparing your biggest, your only enemy a second glance. 

'Cause I have yet to learn how not to be his This city will surely burn if we keep this as it is

You spent hours searching for him, but despite trying every place you knew he liked to frequent, all efforts proved futile. You knew he wouldn’t want to be found, but still, you held a glimmer of hope in your heart that at least subconsciously, he’d want you to find him, to allow him to explain what was mostly inexplainable and inexcusable - you couldn’t blame him for proving you wrong.

Eventually, as eclipse was nearing with each passing moment, defeated and regretful, you went to the nearby river, that was almost deserted due to the approaching evening, that you hoped would bring you some answers, or some solace… some strength. What were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to listen to Eywa, and your own heart telling you to go for this mateship that you knew was wrong, but felt drawn towards, for your own twisted, sadistic reasons? Or should you listen to your mind who told you to fight for what you knew would be a comfortable, healthy future, one that didn’t particularly enthral you, but hoped you could aspire to and embrace in time, with the insight that came with getting older? As always, the war between your mind and heart led to a painful impasse where both of them were bloodied and injured, but no discernible winners were left to claim victory on the choice, or on all the questions that plagued you. 

You recognised Jake’s steps and his scent as he approached you, and you sighed. You were not in the mood for a lecture. Sure enough, he sat next to you, looking at the waterfall falling violently into the otherwise peaceful river, that rippled and bruised at the contact. It was funny to you now, sitting here, how that was a perfect metaphor for your relationship with Neteyam, how in his presence, you were just a river, and he was a force of nature, there to disturb and perturb, there to change you, so aggressive and formidable, and so strangely necessary. You were sad at how much his presence in your life mattered, how you knew that despite all the hurt and the pain, you owed him so much of who you were, so much of where you were. Because he pushed you every day, to be better, to strive for more, to want to be more like him in some ways, less like him in others - a better daughter, a better friend, a better sibling, a better soldier, a better warrior, a better clan member. 

“Hey, kid. What are you doing here, eclipse will be upon us soon. You know the rules.”

“I know the rules, Jake. And with all due respect, right now, I really couldn’t care less about them.”

You turned to him and noted his expression melting from one of annoyance, raised eyebrow and an open mouth, ready to chastise you for your insubordination and recalcitrance, into a soft and pitying one, as he took in your tear-stained face and trembling lips. You never cried, not in front of anyone who mattered, so the fact that here you stood, so obviously distressed, concerned Jake more than he could say out loud.

“What’s wrong, baby girl? What happened?” 

“I… I need to find O'ì'en… I’ve been looking for hours, but I can’t find him. Have you seen him anywhere?” Your sniffles and a hoarse, broken voice were more than enough to bring a grimace to the Olo’eyktan’s face. 

“Oh, honey…” his arms circled your much smaller body and he squeezed, the much needed hug warm and very welcome. Your hand tightened around his forearm, and you started sobbing silently as he held you. You’ve always been immensely grateful for the Sullys and their patriarch, but especially so in moments like this, when his paternal instincts kicked in, a role he was much better at than he ever gave himself credit for. 

“I ruined it… I ruined everything. I should have told him, I should have been honest with him. I should have come to you and asked you to free me of this responsibility that I never wanted to shoulder in the first place.” 

“You can still ask, kid. We would never force you into something you genuinely aren’t comfortable with, and you should know that. In fact, you do know that. But you didn’t come. Why?” 

You had no answer to that, because truthfully, you didn’t know. Getting revenge on Neteyam wasn’t a good enough answer, and more and more, you realised that - and you knew Jake would challenge you on it as soon as the words came out of your mouth. Getting revenge isn’t a good enough reason to sacrifice your own happiness, and liberty, your future as a warrior and your future with the man you wanted to want so badly. It wasn’t a good enough reason because it wasn’t the reason - not the only reason, not the full reason, but that was something you couldn't think about, you couldn't even fathom, not yet, so you didn't.

At your lack of response, Jake sighed and looked contemplatively at the river being perturbed by the waterfall crashing on it, at the way the water rippled and undulated, at the way the bioluminescent glow of the underwater plankton, that was visible now that eclipse settled over the land, warped under its force. 

“Did I ever tell you I had this girlfriend back on Earth? This was when I was young, about your age.” You shook your head softly, not looking at him, still focused and mesmerised by the same view he was studying. 

“She was amazing. So kind, and sweet, and beautiful… and good. Too good for me. And I loved her. She was the first girl I looked at and thought that maybe, just maybe, she would be the one. I used to pick her up after her classes were over and we would just drive in my car, just down the coast, in Anaheim at sundown, and I remember feeling so happy, thinking that I would feel this way the rest of my life.” 

You thought about that, and about your boyfriend, who very much seemed like what Jake was describing, who brought you comfort and safety. You thought about walking with him in this place Jake called Anaheim, in a heavenly place away from hurt and pain, away from mistakes and fears, just two people who loved each other, who wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. You felt grief envelop you when the face that appeared in your visions wasn’t the one you wanted to see, the one you hoped you’d see, the one you needed to see. You hated your brain and your heart for not allowing you to commit to him the way you knew you should, in the way that would ensure you a future of happiness and peace, a love worth harbouring, a pure and kind love, just like the one Jake described. 

“What happened? Between… you and her, I mean?” Jake shrugged, a small, content smile on his face. 

“It just didn’t work out. I joined the military, she continued her studies. We would have never worked. I wasn’t good enough for her, and she deserved someone who could love her the way she was meant be loved. Anaheim is still a beautiful memory to me, and I’ll always cherish it, but it made way for something much, much better. For both of us.

I think sometimes we hold on to things we think we need, we want to want, but these things pertain to a version of ourselves that isn’t fully authentic. I think it’s easy to pretend when we’re with certain people that life is one way, that we could fit in it, in this world we’ve created in our heads, in the world that they inspire, but the sooner we accept the realities of our circumstances, of who we are and where we truly belong, the more time we have to enjoy life for how it’s meant to be lived: fully, wildly, being wholly ourselves.” 

He stood up and headed back towards the village, not before giving you an affectionate pat on the head and a squeeze of your shoulders. His last words echoed in your ears long after he departed, leaving you with so much to think about, and so much pain at knowing he was right, and that soon, you’d have to break a heart and learn to mend your own.

“You can still ask, kid. I just think, deep down, Anaheim isn’t for you… just like it wasn’t for me.” 

But I'd give anything to stop time And drive around Anaheim at sun down And teach my mind to put you first

It took the whole night, but you eventually found him, after a painful conversation with his mother, at a different river he used to love coming to as a little kid with his father, one much further away from the village. He was sitting on the river bank, lost in thought, his feet dangling mindlessly in the water that rushed downstream, agitated and tumultuous, much like your mind. You sighed deeply, trying your hardest to build up the courage for the most difficult conversation you’ve ever had, one in which you knew the end result was a broken heart, one that you caused, that you never meant to, that you would never want. You knew what it was like to be broken-hearted, sad and unmoored from the reality you’ve built up in your mind, from your hopes and dreams, from the future you were promised and now will never have again. But after the conversation with Jake, you knew it was the right thing to do. You loved O'ì'en, you truly did, just not enough to ever give him everything he needed and deserved, not for the rest of your life. You had darkness in you he would never be skilled enough to wander through, to bring light into, and you would never want him to try, not when it would dim his own light, that deserved to be nourished and heightened by someone, who much like him, was good and pure, and better than you’d ever be. 

“O'ì'en…” 

He wasn’t startled by your presence. His gaze didn’t shift from where it was intently fixed, and you knew you shouldn’t expect that it did. You wouldn’t want to look at yourself, either. 

“You know, I watched for so long the interactions between you and Neteyam, and they always made me sad and uncomfortable. The hatred that I could not understand, that seemed to occupy so much of your time and space in both your minds, that consumed you both. I watched it, and I wanted to say something, but I never thought it was my place. It hurt me, seeing you suffer at his hands, and hurt me that you always reciprocated, that you never took the high road, that you always felt the need to one-up him, to give as good as you got. It was so toxic and unhealthy, and I hoped in time, you’d move away from it. I hoped I could help you. But now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to, not anymore. And I don’t know if I want to.” 

Tears rolled down your face with every word uttered, with every sentence that cut deeper and deeper in you, until you were bleeding and bruised, until it all hurt, being here, seeing him, hearing him, the past and the future, the present and your actions, and Neteyam’s actions, and everything that lead to this moment. It was so much easier to get your heart broken, you realise faintly, than to break a heart. Heartbroken, you could pity yourself, victimise yourself, tell yourself and the world that it’s not you, but the other person, the one who instigated it. You can sleep at night knowing you were wronged, that if it wasn’t for the pain that someone else caused you, things would be different, easier. There was nothing easy about watching a good person suffer and knowing you caused it, and you wondered how you were ever going to fall asleep again, how were you going to be able to live with yourself. 

“I didn’t choose this, O'ì'en… any of this. I need you to know this. Mo’at asked us to come to her as a matter of urgency the other day, she told us that Eywa gave her a sign, showed her a vision, and that by her will, Neteyam and I will have to become a mated-pair.” You felt bad about leaving out certain… extenuating circumstances, but you realise that sometimes, certain things are better left unsaid and once some words are uttered, some actions taken, they can’t be recalled, they can’t be reversed, they won’t dematerialise - their echoes will forever ring through time, leaving damage and hurt in their wake, and you didn’t want that - not for him. 

“Have you told her you don’t want to? Have you gone to the Tsa’hik, or the Olo’eyktan, or the Tsakarem and talked to them, told them you are in love with someone else, that you made up your mind? Did you fight for us at any point? For me?” 

Your eyes widened at his words, that had an edge to them you’ve never observed in him before, that you didn’t even realise he was truly capable of. The words stung needles on your skin and in your eyes, that had prickling tears still falling uninterrupted, like summer rain, soaking your heart and soul that hurt because you knew that you couldn’t give him an answer that would satisfy him… you couldn’t give him an answer at all. 

“They look at you like you’re their daughter. They would listen to you if you asked. But you didn’t, did you?” 

“I once overheard Lo’ak talk about you and Neteyam to his human friend. He was concerned about you. About both of you. But aside from that, he talked about you two like you were an inevitability. About passion that ran so deep there was no way only hatred fuelled it. That there must be something underneath it all. I heard this and it made me angry at the time… I thought that he was unreasonable and out of line. Naively, I took your affection at face value and never looked beyond. Until now, that is. When I realised that in our time together, all the time we shared, all the moments that were sweet and innocent and everything I’ve ever wanted, you’ve never once shared even a fraction of that passion for me.” 

“O'ì'en, no…” 

“I think, deep down, you don’t want to get out of this because it’s finally a way to bridge the gap that has existed between you and Neteyam for so long, a gap you secretly wished had never existed. I think you’ve been in love with him since you were children, and this was the perfect opportunity to change a path you thought was set in stone before. I think he’s in love with you, too. But both of you are too mean, too stubborn with each other to see past your differences. To talk.” 

“You’re wrong.” The temper was rising in your chest as his head continued shaking, denying your statement, as his words were processing in your mind, the unbelievable, insane, unreasonable words that you couldn’t believe were being uttered right before you, not by him. You wanted to scream at him, to shout and tell him that it’s all wrong, all of this, everything is all wrong. That the passion he’s talking about is just intense dislike that was so grand, so overpowering, it couldn’t be contained inside your body, nor inside his. That you were not in love with Neteyam - you hated Neteyam. With every fibre of your being, you loathed the man that hurt you so deeply, so intimately, for so long, that forsook the past you shared and the memories you made and what you meant to him, or what he meant to you.

You wanted to tell him that he’s delusional in ever thinking that man could ever be in love with you, when all he did was find new ways to torture you, to belittle you, to make you feel lesser than him, lesser than anyone he knew. How could that ever be love? How could that ever work? This was love. What you had with O'ì'en. Pure and good and kind and easy. Love wasn’t supposed to hurt, right? Love was supposed to feel natural, like coming home after a long, exhausting day, it wasn’t supposed to be what made the day long and exhausting in the first place. He was so wrong. 

But you didn’t find it in you to argue with him. Not with him. Someone else will have to bear the consequences of your repressed anger, but not O'ì'en, because he deserves better than what he got, and what you gave, and in truth.. none of this mattered anyway. Arguing would make no difference in this doomed relationship, so you calmed yourself for the time being and spoke in as even of a tone you could manage. 

“O'ì'en… I think you’re wrong. But, it doesn’t matter. You’re right that I didn’t talk to Mo’at, and that I should have. Regardless of the circumstances that led to this, I am so sorry. I will forever be sorry for the way you found out, for the way this came to be. I’m so sorry you had to be collateral damage in a war that is only mine to bear. I had a whole plan about how to tell you, I had so many things I wanted to say to you. That I’m grateful to you, and that I love you. That I’m sorry it wasn’t the way that you deserve to be loved, but I do love you. That I will never forget you, and your affection that shone so brightly over me, that was a safe haven from the bad storms I’ve had to weather for so long. That I’ll be sorry every day that I wasn’t good enough for you, but am relieved by the notion that one day, you’ll find someone so much better than me, someone who will be able to give you everything you deserve and then some, and I’m relieved in knowing you will be thankful to have been rid of me.” 

You decided this would have to be enough for now. One day, maybe you’ll be able to face him again. One day, maybe he’ll even be able to spare you a glance, or a smile. But not today. 

“I hope you forgive me one day.” 

“Me, too.” 

But I'd give anything to stop time, commit to you and not crimes Against your truth and lose sight of every divide threatening to undo this story But baby, I'm so sorry, I don't think that I'll ever memorise this route

It was a long way back to the village, and with every step taken and every moment passed, the anger that you tried to stifle for his sake came back ten fold - the tiring days of fighting, of crying, of suffering, of uncertainty and rampant emotions all building up within you, all coming to a calamitous zenith that threatened to spill all around you, that begged and urged for revenge, for payback on the man that caused it all, the man that was at the centre of all your life’s woes.

He ruined your relationship? Well… let’s see how he’ll like a taste of his own medicine. You knew exactly where you’ll find him, because you knew he’d be in the place he knew he could pester you the most, in a place that’s supposed to be yours, that he tainted over and over, that you will make sure to conquer back from him, the way you eventually would all of the pieces of yourselves he’s taken from you through time.

Your tent was quiet and untouched, unlike the little nook behind it, that was completely segregated from the rest of the clan, an oasis of secrecy and privacy in an otherwise bustling environment. A place that should be yours alone, but now hid two Na’vi, one of them mewling softly at the actions of the other. Neteyam was focused on his mate’s neck, their make-out session so intense, they didn’t even notice you until it was too late, until you stood behind them, until your presence was announced by a deep sigh and a disappointed click of your tongue.

“Oh, how disappointing.” 

The girl let out a distressed yelp at your voice and pushed Neteyam off of her, eliciting a deep growl from the man that was less than impressed by the interruption. 

“Am I interrupting?”  

You saw Neteyam’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of you, at the way he knew what was coming. You laughed at his expression. What did he think was going to happen after what he’s done? What did he think you were going to do finding them here? The evil smirk that possessed you reminded you of his, and you wondered if this is how panicked you looked, too, when you saw him approaching you and O'ì'en.

“You know, if you’re going to continue going against the Olo’eyktan and the Tsa’hik’s wishes and cheat on your mate, I wouldn’t do it… you know, right outside of her tent.” 

“WHAT?!” The high-pitched screech nearly deafened you, but you didn’t let it show. Instead you just watched as Neteyam scrambled to get himself out of the eye of the storm threatening to tear him apart.

“Tìlor, I -“ 

“Ah, your boyfriend didn’t tell you?” Your smile was sickeningly sweet as you approached the couple, stopping right next to Neteyam, placing a hand on his arm, tracing the protruding veins that made saliva pool in your mouth, and you bit back a laugh at the girl’s rabid look, that looked a lot like she was going to pounce on you at any given moment - you hoped she did. Nothing would make you happier than to have an excuse to rearrange her braids. This girl that always looked down on you, that looked at you like you were an outsider or a freak, that never even tried to mask her jealousy, her disdain, her fear at the fact the Sullys preferred you, and always will. 

“I will be your Tsa’hik soon. Isn’t that right… yawne?” 

“So unless you want me to go and tell the clan leaders… and your mother… and your father, and everyone who matters that you’ve been fucking someone else’s mate and watch as little by little, your entire world falls apart around you, I suggest you realise this man right here, he’s not worth it. Not worth all the drama, not worth all the fuss. Just go, and find yourself a single mate, and give thanks to Eywa she’s rid you of him, cause damn, I know I wish I could be.” 

The hatred in her eyes was slowly replaced with fear and embarrassment, and for a second, just a second - you felt bad for her. Because no matter how badly she’s treated you, how she’s adopted Neteyam’s behaviour as her own with no reason or rhyme, much like O'ì'en, she was also just another collateral victim in a war that kept claiming lives and hearts, and you wondered where, if at all, the line would be drawn, when, if ever, would enough be enough?

You watched as she scrambled to fasten her top around her neck properly and without another word, she was gone, leaving just you and Neteyam alone, with enough tension in the air around you to suffocate you, to feel like smoke from a fire so grand, you didn't know if weren’t skilled enough to put out.

'Cause I have yet to know how to be mine You can try to unearth this soul I swear you'll hate what you find

“Why?” 

“You’re making out with someone behind my tent, knowing that would piss me off, after what you did yesterday, and you have the nerve to ask me why?” you threw your head back and laughed at the outrageousness of the question. Neteyam wasn’t stupid - far from it. He was also not naive, or oblivious, or harebrained. The question had no business coming out of his mouth, but yet it did. You didn't have time to ponder the reasons why.

“You see, Neteyam, I think you came here because you knew I’d come. Because you secretly wanted me to. Because you know deep down that this girl has nothing to offer you, and you just needed an easy way out to rid yourself of her, and you needed me to do your dirty work for you again. Well, you’re welcome, Neteyam. What the fuck would you ever do without me, huh?”

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite. All the theatricals of being heartbroken over what I did to O'ì'en and then you do the exact same thing to someone else, someone innocent.”

“Innocent, ha! You think I give a shit about your little girlfriend’s feelings, when you treated O'ì'en the way you did? He didn’t deserve this, Neteyam. Any of this. He’s good man, he respects you, and looks up to you. He -“ 

“He should have known better than to associate himself with you.” His bared fangs didn’t do as much to scare you, not nearly as much as his proximity to you did, at the way his eyes stared daggers at your face, that even in the heat of the moment, at the peak of anger and hatred, couldn’t help settle on your parted, wet lips. “He should have known better and realise that all you bring in people’s life is disappointment and pain. He also should have known better and realise you didn’t love him. That you never will. That you might try to act like it and convince yourself, but someone like him would never, ever satisfy you.” 

“And who the fuck would satisfy me, Neteyam? You? That’s rich. I bet your poor little girlfriend’s happy she’s rid of you. Bet you haven’t made her cum once. Too busy thinking of training and ruining my life, too busy thinking about how great you think you are to make room for anyone else in there.” You poked him in the chest with your index finger, right over his heart. Your touch lingered on his body, somehow unable to bring yourself to stop, half in awe at the way his heart was racing, at the way yours beat almost in sync with his, at the way you tried to convince yourself it’s because of the anger you were feeling, and no other reason.

“Yeah? Is that what you think?” 

And there he was again, once more grabbing you by your throat, and you wanted to object, and fight him, but you didn’t - you couldn’t -, not as you felt throbbing deep within you at the action, not as you had to push your thighs together to accommodate for the increasingly uncomfortable sensation, not as your loincloth was becoming more and more damp by the second. And you remember your words, and remember that you told him that if he ever touched you again, you’ll make him pay for it, but right now, in this moment, you couldn’t find it in you to speak a word, as the intensity of his gaze knocked the air out of your lungs and his fingers squeezed just enough so no more could get back in you. Your back scratched painfully against a tree as he pushed you into it, and you couldn’t help a small moan as his other hand pushed your loincloth to the side, brushing over your folds that were now sopping and swollen. He let out a soft chuckle as he felt you.

“If that’s what you really thought, you wouldn’t be dripping on my fingers right now, tsxepvi.” 

Slowly, deliberately, he started exploring your heat, thumb ghosting over your clit as he watched you squirm under his touch, struggling between what you knew you should do, between your conscious mind telling you you were going to pay for this in tears and heartache, and your subconscious mind screaming to let go, to embrace the overbearing desire to give in to him, as you did in the dreams you convinced yourself in time were nightmares, but knew more and more each day that it was just another lie you told yourself to keep going. 

One side of you won by a landslide, as he gently pushed two fingers in you, as he started increasing the pressure with which he was massaging your clit, and it felt so good, too good, better than anything you’ve ever felt before. You tried to contain the sounds coming through gritted teeth with all your might, knowing what he was doing, knowing giving him any indication of the pleasure he was giving you would mean another thing you’d have to pay for later, knowing you couldn’t allow him to enjoy this, you couldn’t possibly give him the satisfaction of knowing he could do this to you, but you couldn’t stop, not when his fingers curled in you and found the spongy part that made you see glimmering, blinding lights and his thumb circled your needy bud in the perfect way to heighten the sensations running through you, electrifying your every nerve. The moans turn into mewls as he increases the pressure and his pace, and you felt the pleasure in you reach a high that you were ready to ride out, your orgasm so close you could practically taste it, and you’re barely able to think about how fucking quick it was, how it took no time at all for him to get you there, how skilled his fingers, as they worked his ministrations on you. You had no will to think about what the fuck was happening, how weird it was, how the man you’ve hated for so long is doing this to you, before the feeling got too overwhelming to be contained anymore.

“Fuck, i’m gonna -“ 

“That’s right, tsxepvi. I can feel you squeezing my fingers. You want to come for me?” 

“Argh, I-“ 

The moan you let you wasn’t of pleasure, it was of deep, throbbing pain as the emptiness overtook you, as soon as he removed his fingers.

He smirked, an evil smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as his fingers found his lips and he sucked on them, his tongue swirling in between them, licking every single drop. 

“You taste fucking amazing, tsxepvi. Maybe next time, if you apologise and behave, you’ll actually get to cum.” 

And with that, he was gone, living you an empty, horrified mess, as the high came crashing down violently and the consequences of the last few minutes replaced it to lead you in a spiral of mixed thoughts and feelings, each one more terrifying than the last. 

'Cause I am lost, but not in you Yes, I am lost, but not in you

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak @sweetbread-m @eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog

[star-dust-shark]

pjo incorrect quotes as things me and people I know have said on crack

Jason: these grapes are funky

Leo: these grapes are fucky

Leo: *drops sandwich, cries*

-

Nico: I will never forget the fact that Piper and I where sitting together with headphones on and she looked up only to see me playing air guitar and head banging to whats my age again

-

Solangelo: *kith*

Will: *walking away with a dorky grin*

Will: *almost gets hit by car*

Will: *gets home and screams into pillow for twenty minutes, then picks up diary and writes like five pages about Nico, then texts him for like an hour and a half and afterwards draydreams about him*

Will: hmm I think I might like Nico

-

Leo: imagine having sex and someone moans like a hentai girl lol

Percy: *moans* KyAAaaaAAHHHhhhhhh

-

Reyna: bro apologized like Colleen Ballinger

Reyna: like fuck off I hope you die

Percy: tOxiC GosSiP tRaiN

Jason: not a groomer

Leo: *hair flip* just a loser

-

Piper: Im horny- I mean horngry- I mean- *cries*

-

Nico: mentally I am a fifty year old man

Will: yeah totally not obvious mister motley crue

-

Leo: jason

Leo: I have something to tell you

Jason: yeah?

Leo: Im gay

Jason: WHAT

Jason: NO WAY THATS CRAZY

-

Annabeth: my wrist hurts

Percy: emooooooooooo

Annabeth: I literally sprained it wtf

-

Hazel: no you cant commit mass genocide Nico

Nico: its pride month this is homophobic

-

Reyna: okay how about we play the quiet game

Reyna: whoever wins gets my two dollars

Reyna: three, two, one, ghost town

Frank:

Leo:

Percy:

Annabeth:

Jason:

Nico:

Leo: *face red, fists clenched, rocking back and forth*

Everyone: *concerned looks*

Leo: I cant- IM A BITCH IM A BOSS IM A BITCH AND A BOSS AND I SHINE LIKE GLOSS

-

Piper: your moms hot

Jason: lol what she ugly asf

-

Will: im concerned with your eating habits, Nico

Nico:

Will: its very serious Im kinda scared

Nico:

Nico: womp womp

-

Jason: would you suck my dick if-

Percy: yes

Jason:

Jason: if there was poison in it and I would die if you didnt

-

Leo: ive learnt something interesting

Leo: my arm skin one day may be cut off and turned into a penis

Leo: therefore...

Leo: *bumps arm into Jason*

Leo: JESUS JASON STOP TOUCHING MY PENIS

Jason: WHAT

-

*talking on tumblr*

Hazel: wyd

Frank: jus on tumblr and talking to you

Hazel: lol nerd imagine

-

Hazel: *bats eyelashes* what does gyat mean

Frank: uhh It means generous young amazing t-

Leo: GORL YA ASS THEEK

-

Rachel: Im so single

Will: skill issue? L ratio? no rizz? no game? no bitches?

-

Percy: I havent taken my meds

Annabeth: oh no good gods

Percy: so that means

Percy: I will either try to kill myself orrrrr

Percy: like violently fuck someone

Jason: I volunteer

Jason: I volunteer as tribute

-

Nico: hey girl *winks* r u a racoon

Nico: bc Im trash

Nico: *bursts into tears*

-

Annabeth: *walks into bathroom, sees spider*

Annabeth: *yelps* oh

Annabeth: hello mister spider

Annabeth: youre not so bad

Spider: *moves*

Annabeth: FUCK NAH PERCY WERE MOVING PACK YO BAGS

-

Jason: *hits knee* oh fuck- my knee-

Leo: okay

Jason: *scared* ur gonna fuck my knee????

-

Thalia: I am now a tree a tree I am a tree is me

-

Nico: im actually kinda insecure about my knees weirdly enough

Will: aww bb :(

Will: well I think you uh

Will: ...have beautiful knees???

-

Nico: *jokingly* I can read your mind

Will: oh no

Will: oh shit

Will: thats not good

Nico: it cant be that bad

Will:

Nico: are these thoughts about me, per chance?

Will: WHAAAAT NOOO *hangs up*

-

Leo: daddy hands, twig nerd bod

-

Leo: im confused why can girls call their friends girlfriends but whenever I call Jason my boytoy twink malewife manwhore someone gets pissed

-

Hazel: yeah, this guys really annoying me

Frank: ugh im gonna fist him

Hazel: ...

Frank: what

Frank: like beat him up?

Hazel:

-

Percy: my friend thinks youre cute

Annabeth: what? who?

Percy: me

Percy: Im the friend

Percy: I think ur cute

-

Nico: so weird when someone comforts you

Nico: like why

Nico: just lemme be a moody emo brooding sad angsty depressed boy for a bit

-

Piper:

Leo:

Piper:

Leo:

Piper:

Leo: *in toad voice* BItCH i SaiD wHaT i sAiD iD rAthEr bE FaMoUs InsTeAd iD LeT aLL Of ThAt GeT To MY heAd I DonT cArE ILL pAinT tHe ToWn ReD

-

Nico: *crafting with scissors*

Percy: *walks in*

Percy: what are you doing

Nico: ...crafting?

Percy: oh okay I thought you where cutting yourself

Nico:

Nico: IM MAKING A HELLO KITTY ART PIECE

-

Leo: *glares*

Frank: *glares back*

Frank and Leo: *glaring at eachother*

Leo: omg I just felt sparks

Frank: DUDE STFU WTF

-

*sees gay porn*

Will: thats it im homophobic

-

Nico: so I wrote this song

Nico: *adjusts mic, positions guitar*

Nico: *deep breath*

Nico: *strums single chord* my whole family died

Nico: thank you, thank you

-

Nico: just realized the only physical contact Ive had in like a whole month was Leo dabbing me up

-

Jason: straights ask why theres no straight pride month but like

Jason: isnt there a toyota month or smth

Jason: id say that works

[zeroseuniverse]

hey hun,

idk if u're taking requests, but i'd like to requests something, feel free to ignore it if u don't want to write it or you're not taking requests hehe, don't worry <3

i was thinking of something very angsty/fluff like "he calls you clingy but then regrets it" yk? with changbin please :(

i've been following u for a while now and i love your writing sm and i really find it very comforting.

ly bb ♡

You're Loved

Summary: In which sometimes words slip out without meaning, but he can always make it up in the end

Warning: Angst

She knew being an idol while dating an idol would be hard but if she had any idea that she would be so touch starved she probably would have second thought it all. Especially with a new comeback in the works for both of them, the two had gotten together right before his debut, being together for almost every milestone in each of their careers.

“All  I’m saying is it’s both our day off and you’re here with the guys you see everyday and not spending time with me for the first time in months.” The woman said, feeling very disheartened by her boyfriend's notions.

“We never have down time together, we just wanted to relax!” Changbin argued, already irritable from the recent workload.

“Okay but you haven’t spent more than five minutes with me since you were sick a few months ago, and even then you were whining about the boys.” She snapped, throwing her hands up in exasperation, her boyfriend finally looking away from the game he was playing with the group who were now watching the argument in shock, they thought that she had been the one to cancel their plans for the night, that's what Changbin had told them. 

“God if I knew you’d be this clingy I would’ve second thought all of this.”

The sentence elicited many gasps to erupt from the men, while the woman simply widened her eyes, scoffing out a laugh of disbelief. She took in the realization dawned on her boyfriend’s face before grabbing her keys, phone, wallet and jacket and walking out the door as quickly as possible. She could hear Changbin scuffling trying to get his things together to follow after her but she was quicker, ducking into an alley and waiting till he passed before making her way in the opposite direction of her home.

Knocking rapidly at the door before her fighting off the tears threatening to be released. 

“Bug?” A voice cooed behind her, she spun turning to face Jimin who wass holding groceries in his hands, he quickly dropped them, embracing the distressed girl into his arms gently. He manouvered them into the apartment, nodding with his head for Yoongi, who had come to visit, to grab the groceries.

“What happened?” Jimin cooed, tightening his hold as he felt her losing her grasp on her emotions. 

“It’s been months since we’ve spent time together, he just wanted to hang out with the boys.” She sobbed, feeling the months of emotional turmoil take its toll, “I don’t think he loves me anymore…” She finally said it, the sentence she had been thinking but refusing to say for months on end, hoping to deny it for as long as possible. 

“Oh honey.” Yoongi cooed, pulling the two into a cuddle pile after setting the groceries in the kitchen.

“There is no way not to love you.” Jimin reassured, his statement only proved correct as 10 minutes later another round of rapid knocking erupted from the door.

“I know she’s here! Let me see her!” Changbin’s voice followed, both Yoongi and Jimin sat up away from the woman with warm smiles.

“You’re loved, and we could tell you all day but we aren’t the ones you need to hear it from. I can open the door, but if you don’t think you’re ready I’ll send him away.” 

The choice was hers, she could fall back into the never ending cycle of feeling like she wasn’t good enough or she could open the door and hear the crying man out.

She stood from the couch moving to open the door, she leaned her head against it for a moment to regain her composure. 

After one last breath she opened the door, facing her lover who had red rimmed eyes and his hair now dishevled. 

“You didn’t go home, which I should’ve expected, you never go home when you’re upset. Jimin was your comfort person so I came here. I stood pacing for a while then I heard you say you thought I didn’t love you and oh my god how could I ever let you begin to think that. But then I started crying and I couldn’t come to you crying, you didn’t deserve that so-” He was silenced by his girlfriend holding her hand up to get him to take a breath between his rambling, “I just, I love you I do. I just got too comfortable and didn’t feel the need to keep trying because I thought I’d always have you, but after the words slipped out today I knew it would be so easy for you to leave me if I pushed you far enough, and I don’t want you far. I want you right here with me always.”

The woman teared up a bit as her boyfriend tried getting the proper words out, talking way too fast for anyone who didn’t know him to understand. She grabbed his hand gently and lifted his chin that was turned towards the floor so he’d face her.

“We both have a lot we need to work on, but for this to be worth it we both need to put the effort in. Always, not only when you feel like I’m slipping away. We need to always put effort into this relationship.” After receiving the fast nodding in response, she turned to her friends with a grateful smile, both of them moving to ruffle her hair before nudging her out the door with her boyfriend. “You’re loved.” being the last thing uttered between the group of four.

[littlepadika]

I can see the "requests closed tag" but there's still no hurt in trying 😭

I'm suffering so much with my period, I'd love to get to read something yours about daddy whiskey taking care of a little with a baad period and tons of PMS. 🥺

I love u padi! hope u are doing great! <3

aww i'm sorry i might be late but i hope you're okay bb!! depending on what kind of little you are it could be really hard to understand what's going on 🥺

Warnings: DDLG, menstruating little, angsty, description of blood/pms pain

Whiskey was good with timing your medication and hydration but this time it still wasn't enough. You were whimpering with a heated stuffie over your stomach. Jack is right there by your side, feeling rather useless. He wishes you didn't have to go through this.

"Daddy..." You whimper. "Was i bad?"

"hmm?" He sat up a little, frowning.

"p-p'cause it's worse-"

"Oh no, little lamb!" Jack stops your train of thought. "No no no." He kissed your cheeks. "This ain't a punishment. It's- it's a normal part of your body. I know it hurts right?"

"Mhm" you curl into his arms. Then suddenly you pushed away. "I hate this!" you practically scream. Jack knew you weren't screaming at him but he still had to stop himself from reprimanding you. You ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. Another thing he didn't normally tolerate but he knew it was just your hormones.

"Little lamb..." Jack slowly approached.

"Don't come in daddy!" He could tell you were crying and that made him want to break down the door even more.

"Please let me help you, little lamb..."

"You can't help!" You shout back and you sound so grown up when you say it, it makes his heart break a little.

Jack rested his head on the door in defeat. "Daddy wishes he could make yer period go away, little darlin'." He exhaled deeply. "But that don't mean I can't help. I'll hold you and kiss you and make it as comfy as I can. Just let me in, please."

There was a moment where he heard you rustling with your clothing.

"You can come in." You say and he slowly opens the door to find you on the toilet. "There's so much, daddy. I ruined my pajamas" You cry.

"I'm sorry, baby. Daddy can fix that though I promise." Jack knelt down and held your hands in his.

"Dey my favorite." You sniffle. It's true it was the ones with lambs and clouds it reminded you of the farm. He let you cry it out and rubbed your thighs soothingly.

"Mm I think some fresh air would do you wonders little lamb. Whenever you're ready. Daddy can get the wagon out and cart you around if you're too tuckered out. I know the horsies miss ya."

"Mkay, daddy." you squeeze his hands and give him a small smile.

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

daddy masterlist

@lafresamilk @mamacitapascal @prettypedros, @marstheplanet @takochansugoi  @oceanablue @iwishtobeastorm @dincrypt, @bac-1, @spacenerdpascal, @cranberrypills @punkerthanpascal @breezythesimp  @djarinsimp @mylittlesenaar @bbybunbun @phnyx @xwalltoast @dreadwolfxoxo @xwalltoast @mswarriorbabe80 @bearcina @lokigirlszendaya @pedroslilbitch @star-wars-fan-2005  @din-jarhead @hillgoth @m4ngoj3lly @crabbae @im-a-mcsimp-for-mchotties @girlofchaos @joelsflannel @xoxabs88xox @nicolethered @sergeant-major-ghost @pretty-girl-likes-tea @alexxavicry @harriedandharassed

[painful-pooch]

*tackles*

Hiiiii my love! There are several things I’d love to see, not sure if I’m supposed to request more than one but I’ll give you my top choices and you can do what you want from there!

1. Bb Cass being his cinnamon roll self, I don’t know enough of the plot to request something super specific but maybe just him struggling on the streets?

2. I’m curious about Chevy, I know you say he’s a lot but if you feel like unleashing him a little bit go for it!

3. She’s not on the list but I will always take a Brumaria snippet hehe. Maybe some married couple fluff or Kane whump or angsty teenagers! Whatever au speaks to you atm

You definitely can! I am gonna do one post at a time just to not keep them long! So atm, it's Cas, then I plan for Whumper!Chevy, and then for Brumaria Fluff because it's so cute!!!!! I hope this makes you happy!

CW: homeless whumpee, hunger pangs, the beast, implied murder/violence

~~~

It's been days since Cassiel has been able to find food, and his stomach roars so hard, he partially wonders if it's the Beast in there. He hasn't heard it in a while, and is glad to not have to deal with the dark voice that curses him at almost all hours of the day, but it does haunt him at night. It's almost like… He gets hungrier because he's going out and doing things, but that's not possible, because he's asleep in the same spot each night. "Bah, yer just goin' crazy, wee fool," he mutters to himself playfully, limping through alleys and following the colors of various sounds he has figured out tie to things related to restaurants and places that serve food.

He can't travel around on the street front or the police will arrest him for being a Shifter, and he can't go back there. Not again… His hand goes over his face, the scar that permanently tied him to Officer Rowan, the one tasked to bring him down and study him, train him to be docile, and deem him worthy to society. His stomach clenches so hard, the man falls to his hands and knees, whimpering from the weakness in his body now, his head pounding. He crawls next to a small alcove by a spigot and catches some of the water, drinking it and thanking his Mum for the small blessing, but it's not enough.

He forces a smile and curls up on the cold asphalt, feeling his body wanting to catch some rest. "M-Maybe de world wasn't ready yet for a guy like me, eh?" He asks himself, when a voice snarls in the back of his mind in answer.

"I always have to do everything. I'll get you food, you miserable host of a demon."

Cas' eyes widen for a brief moment. "W-wait, don't hurt anyone."

Laughter. "Like you have the strength to fight me, boy. Face it. You give in now, or you die. What's your choice?"

The poor lad feels his lips tremble, the walls around the alcove closing in. "No m-more blood. Pancakes?"

"Hmmm. I'll see what I can do. Now… Where were we?"

[pedroshotwifey]

20 Questions for Writers 📑

I was tagged by @nerdieforpedro. Ty bb I love you ♥ I feel like some others may have tagged me in this a while ago so I send my thanks to you as well 🥰

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Technically, I only have 32. I would personally count all of my collections and challenges as separate fics, but I'm honestly too lazy to format them that way. (mostly thinking ab wcc here)

2. What is your total AO3 word count?

I have a total of 200,985 words right now. Didn't realize I'd hit the 200,00 mark yet!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I think it's safe to say Pedro Pascal is my fandom. I have no objections to writing for any other characters though---in fact, I've actually featured some Oscar Isaac characters in my fics before. I also have an unpublished Marc Spector fic that's been sitting in my docs for a while 🤭

4. Top Five fics by kudos:

Joel Fucking Miller (ao3 link) has 377 kudos. Dom Joel Miller fucks you over a table in this age gap enemies to....lovers(?) one shot.

Favorite Bounty (ao3 link) has 144 kudos. In this series, you unexpectedly hitch a ride with the Mandalorian and begin to grow close to him until you find out his secret.

Beg for it (ao3 link) has 121 kudos. Subby virgin Din is completely at your mercy in this one shot.

Wifey's Christmas Countdown collection (ao3 link) has 96 kudos. Lots of different characters and plots! Some are fluffy, some angsty, some smutty. Some are all three! Love these and I think some of my best writing can be found here.

Cramped (ao3 link) has 78 kudos. Subby virgin Din sitting in a teeny tiny cockpit with you. What more can I say? (gn! reader)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Always! It may take me a bit sometimes, but I love interacting with people who care enough to leave comments for me!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Already published, I think I'm gonna have to go with Cuts. I personally love this fic and think it's a bit underrated. (dark!husband Jack Daniels x f!reader)

OOO actually I think Alone Always is gonna take the cake here. (Din Djarin x gn!reader)

7. What is the fic you wrote that has the happiest ending?

I honestly have a habit of making most endings happy 😂 I don't feel like digging right now so I'm just gonna say What Matters. (Age gap Joel Miller x f!reader) This is also my most popular one shot on Tumblr with over 1,000 notes.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not too much, but I have gotten some shit for little things on TTF. This rly sucks because I let it get to me too much and I end up getting into a slump.

9. Do you write smut?

Do I write anything else?

jkjk, I love writing it all, but smut is for sure one of my more dominant themes!

10. Craziest Crossover?

Probably One Condition. Ezra (prospect) and Marcus Pike x f!reader. Messy dubcon-ish sex pollen one shot. It's pretty fun and got a lot of good feedback!

11. Have you ever have a fic stolen?

As far as I know, I have not. And I'm really hoping it stays that way! I'm just hoping that since my writing isn't super great, most copycats will stay away 🤣

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Have not, but I wouldn't be opposed. I know my friend (@kewwrites) and I have talked about doing fics and eventually crossing over into each other's before.

14. All time favorite ship?

Me and Pedro, Duh!!

Lmao nah in all seriousness, pls don't hate me, but I'm a little obsessed with Dinluke 😂🫣

And I'll go ahead and take this opportunity to say that my absolute least favorite ship is Dinbo 👎

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

omg I don't know 😭 I have some that are very slow going but I don't want to admit defeat because then it's set in stone 😂 Hopefully everything will be finished at some point!

16. What are your writing strengths?

No idea. I honestly think that sometimes I kind of lock in and am able to write immaculate stories, but most of the time they're just meh. Great at description at these times.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

BURNOUT FUCK YOU BURNOUT FUCKK YOU FUCK YOU VERY MUCH

Currently going through an awful streak of it and I'm stressing out because I finally have time to write and am just not able to 🫠

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Fantastic if used right! I love little terms here and there depending on the ethnicity of the character and their first language since it definitely adds to the authenticity. I do like for the translation to be at the end of the phrase/excerpt though instead of at the end of the fic.

19. First Fandom you wrote in?

PPCU! Loml fr

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

This is so tough because I forget them all 😭 And then I'll read them again a few months later and fall in love and be like "this is the best thing I've ever written", and then forget again. 🫠 I genuinely have no idea.

I would love more than anything right now though if anybody would care to drop their favorite fic of mine in the comments of this post or even in my inbox ♥ I think it would help a lot to hear atm!

NPT: @kewwrites @notjustjavierpena @iamasaddie @strang3lov3 @freelancearsonist @janaispunk @beardedjoel @ghostofaboy

[sitp-recs]

HP Rec Fest, Day 21

Today’s is hands down of my favourite prompt from @hprecfest, what a banger! I love being wowed by thought-provoking fics and it was a pleasure to reread these two all-time favourites for this post. I really hope more people will feel intrigued enough to check these out! On a side note, I won’t be posting any recs for tomorrow’s prompt (day 22: a fic that hasn't been updated in 10 years or author stated it was abandoned) as I haven’t read unfinished works in years and I completely lost track of the ones I’ve read in the pre-AO3 era. See you again on Saturday!

Day 21) a thought-provoking fic:

Drarry

And Save Me From Bloody Men by @blamebrampton (T, 10k)

Draco Malfoy once watched others fighting to stop the world falling apart. This time, he's not just watching.

why yes, I’ll be screaming about BB and this particular fic until the end of times, thank you very much :))) this is easily the most thought-provoking fic I’ve read in the HP fandom and remains (frighteningly so) current and relevant despite having been written well over a decade ago. the world building is phenomenal, my jaw dropped as I was introduced to this fascinating post-war dystopia full of disturbing political allegories. it’s brilliant and depressing all at once. my heart belongs to this redeemed Draco who’s so capable and tough, trying to do the right thing for once; his chemistry with Harry is instant and deliciously uncomplicated, but a war romance is inherently angsty and this will tug at your heartstrings. so many feels! I loved seeing Draco’s side relationship with Ernie, the trust and camaraderie between them is sooo good. Draco’s character development is truly fascinating to watch and believe me when I say you are not prepared to face this thrilling yet devastating ending. it will make your heart race and blow your mind just like the rest of this witty, fierce and sophisticated commentary. an epic classic that definitely deserves more love and more obsessed readers to join me and @tackytigerfic 🤝

Rare pair

Help Wanted: God and Executioner by pir8fancier (Snarry, E, 20k)

The war is raging on and Harry learns that there are no right choices.

yet another grim and brilliant wartime fic, this one delves deeper into the brutal reality of war tragedy and loss. love the poignant dialogue, so very honest and in character, and the way the sexual tension builds urgent and insistent but still organically. there’s so much going on, so much hurt and grief all around, that seeing Harry and Snape disconnect and find comfort in stolen moments before (or more likely after) the storm hits is very cathartic. I loved getting immersed in their dynamics and conversations. the dialogue is so good but I must remind you that this is not a happy fic, although it has its tender moments. Harry’s loneliness and search for punishment are devastating but there’s also understanding, intimacy and worshipping sex (!) which is everything we want and need. if you’re a Snarry fan I highly recommend giving this a try and then checking all of pir8fancier’s catalogue bc they’re a fabulous author!

[marriedzukka]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @lesmiserablol/@bisexuallsokka mwah thanks bb<3

1. how many works do you have on Ao3? only 4

2. what's your total Ao3 word count? currently at 247,209

3. what fandoms do you write for? just atla at the moment. haven't really felt the urge to write for anything else in a long time

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

4. alley cat blues 3. in the darkest shade of blue 2. wanna bet 1. real enough to get me through

5. do you respond to comments? i try to but i dont do it as much as i would like

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? i dont write angsty endings. hope this helps

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? out of the two that are actually completed, probably wanna bet because it's just afterglow pillow talk lmao. but darkest shade of blue ends with them being cuddly on a beach, so who's to say

8. Do you get hate on fics? no

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? i did one and would like to do more eventually. there is so much filth just sitting in my notes app right now it's unbelievable

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? nope

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that i know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? no but i would like to try it at some point!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? i mean. probably zukka

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? if i'm honest, a lot of them lol writing is hard. but one that stands out is probably a roommates/roadtrip/oh no there's only one bed au that i started a couple of years ago but just don't have the drive to actually write

16. What are your writing strengths? i think i'm good at emotional scenes and giving them weight. also writing little Izumi...sometimes you read a story and it's clear that the author has never spent time around an actual human child but i think (i hope) that my Izumi is realistic

17. What are your writing weaknesses? i hate exposition <3

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? can be done but obviously some thought/research needs to go into it

19. First fandom you wrote for? once upon a time...

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

this should be obvious by now, but retgmt. It is my heart.

tagging @ofherlionheart @chitsangenthusiast and @ whoever else wants to do it

[askinkiskarma]

I JUST READ THE LATEST CHAPTER OF MONSTER IN ME AHHHH tumblr wouldn’t let me paste my comment on the actual post since i type it on my notes app ): so here it is for you:

OMFG i finally had the chance to read and….you’ve outdone yourself once again. This chapter was a WHIRLWIND!!! honestly this dynamic is just so interesting because they are both so mean to each other, yet reader folded so quickly at the end? and how does everyone see past their bullshit??!seriously i think this dialogue is my favorite yet because it’s just so tension filled, SHARP, and entertaining. HOW DO YOU EVEN COME UP WITH IT? i especially loved o’i’en’s dialogue because he read the reader to filth 😭 jake’s sweet little moment was so cute! how will they even transition from enemies to lovers because the enemies part is HEAVY rn 😭 reader is stronger than me i would have bit neteyam’s fingers off for being so mean HAHAHA these two idiots need to be locked in a room together and talk it out because we still need to know neteyam’s reasoning for doing a 180

OMG KENDRA MY LOVE

honestly, i'm really enjoying writing this series and it's such a different vibe for me, but it's so much fun. like all my other series, i love so so much, but they're sad and angsty and so very serious 99% of the time, and don't get me wrong i love that, but i'm loving the lighter tones of MIM and that i get to write more humour/banter/sarcasm/snark (which is basically my personality anyway), so i'm so happy you are enjoying the dialogue!! :((((

yesss, i'm happy o'i'en stood up for himself and prove that he's not a pushover and he understands that despite what both of them say, there's a lot more under the surface than just hate, and i'm happy he respected himself enough to walk away with his head held high!!

honestly??? i don't know HAHAHAHAHA. i love when people tell me that they're excited to see where it goes cause i'm like ...MEE TOO!!! hahahah guess we'll see soon enough ;) i'm so happy you're enjoying the series and i hope you enjoy the rest and ily and biggest smooches for my bb

[ohsomightypeaches]

He grins and deposits the key in your waiting palm. ‘You can ask Joel for help, you know. He’s handy with this kind of stuff.’

😏 you don't say...

You blink, blindsided by the seemingly random mention of his brother - but his dimpled smile tells you otherwise.

I SEE WHAT YOURE DOING SIR 🤭

Or does he?

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Tommy graciously lets you off the hook. ‘We’re a bit short on sweets, actually, if you bake.’

LOL

‘Do you make a carrot cake?’

🤨 hold up. I THOUGHT you SAID SWEETS 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨 CARROT CAKE?! that's the first go to for SWEETS?!?!??!

Okay but if this is because it's hard for like chocolate to come by because it's apocalypse and you can just ✨️grow✨️ carrots 😔 now I'm sad. Reason 39474662 I will not make it in apocalypse

He flashes you a cheeky grin. ‘What a funny coincidence, it’s Joel’s as well - the only way to get carrots in him.’

SON OF A BITCH OH HES GOOD. he's very good.

Your pulse spikes with adrenaline at the unexpected tidbit Tommy drops in your lap, and you greedily squirrel that little fact away, slowly colouring in the Joel-shaped space in your head.

I love this description. It's adorable and so visual.

Where he is not.

For one day can we not be angsty Joel 😩 PLEASE RELAX FFS UNCLENCH YOUR JAW OLD MAN LET YOUR CREAKY HIPS REST* (*from survival mode)

And then all that noise had blown up, literally, with the State House. With Tess.

OOF. in italics?! Was the italics necessary?! Why does it hit so much harder in italics

‘Watch your language,’ he barks, no real bite behind it.

😭🖤 he's so dad.

There are times when he wonders to which extent all this is a coping mechanism. But well, at least she’s coping.

😭 BBS

They nod at him now as they file into the garden party, still keeping their distance, but not as much as he would’ve liked.

Ah yes I forgot he was a feral cat man

Well, he supposes dinner parties at Bill and Frank’s count, as far and few in between as they were. Not that they ever celebrated anything specific, per se - they didn’t need a reason beyond the fact that they were all still alive and kicking. Bill, bless his soul, did make a mean roast, and Frank used to host with enough flair for forty instead of four. Tess had a black dress she stowed away at the back of her closet for these parties, and a red one that she saved for the really special occasions -

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

‘I was just now,’ he grunts pointedly.

LOL how very older sibling of you

‘Don’t try to butter me up. I ain’t babysittin’ for you.’

Hes old and tired 😔 leave my feral cat mans alone

He can’t help a smile. ‘But for all your devious plans to get into her babysitter’s pants, Sarah did love her Uncle Tommy.’

Oh that hurt

Tommy nudges him on the shoulder. ‘I can only hope my kid will love their Uncle Joel just as much.’

😭 why do you want me to cry today

Eventually, he harrumphs, ‘If they do - I’ll think about the babysittin’.’

😭😭😭😭

You’re wearing the jeans he asked you to.

😏😌🔥

Does he… hug you? He can count on three fingers who he’s hugged for the past twenty years, and he’s sorely out of practice. A kiss is an option, but the way his eyes dart to your mouth, it’s dangerous even entertaining that thought - 

Joel do you even strategize this much in that short amount of time when a bloater is coming at you? Lol

With a shrug, he jokes, ‘It’s ok, I’m a bit broken all over.’

😭💀 JOEL

A smirk on his lips, he steps into your space, the very proximity of him stealing the air from your lungs. ‘I might if you’re not careful.’

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

‘They’re comin’ closer,’ Joel complains, taking a long gulp of his beer.

LOL you scared bro?

‘I guess they figure if I’m talking to you, it means that you don’t actually bite,’ you quip.

💀💀💀 okay but you can't approach a feral cat just because it decided it's okay with one person

‘Will they back off if I make you cry?’

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 they'll back off too if YOU start crying I'm sure lol

Joel splutters, ‘A hot tub?’

Andrew is living like a king in apocalypse.

‘Let’s just say Jackson is a commune with American characteristics,’ you say diplomatically.

🤣🤣🤣🤣

‘I was a contractor in another life.’

Yeah fuck Andrew and his hot tub 🔥

‘Here and there,’ you say with a dismissive wave. ‘It’s not important. It’ll hold up.’

YOU HAD A PERFECT IN WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU. YOUR BROKE ASS DOOR NEEDS FIXING WHAT DO YOU MEAN.

Joel gives her a firm shake of the head, to which she responds with a disgruntled I’m watching you gesture.

LOL

‘Why’s she starin’ at me?’ he mutters.

She wants to adopt you obviously feral cat man

His eyebrows shoot up. ‘You made cream cheese? How?’

???????? You what now????

‘It’s not that big a deal. It’s just milk, lemon and salt,’ you say, trying to downplay it. Your arms are definitely not aching from the hours of straining and beating and whipping.

Oh no big. Just ✨️made✨️ cream cheese 😦 I literally just found out what the ingredients to cream cheese is. Who MAKES CREAM CHEESE

Joel hums doubtfully. ‘Ain’t seen any walnut trees in town.’

Why do you know what walnut trees look like? IS IT BECAUSE ITS FORAGEABLE?!?!?! 😭

Lies. You know it. He knows it.

🤭

His lips twitch wryly. ‘What a waste of perfectly good cream cheese.’

ARE YOU GOING TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT? HMMMMM?????? 👀👀👀👀

Then, holding your eyes, he sucks the cream cheese off his fingertip, a hum deep in his throat. ‘Delicious, sweetheart.’

It's me I'm a puddle on the floor again

He looms closer, bending at the waist and for one moment of madness, you think he might lean down and lick your neck clean. 

AS HE SHOULD

But he doesn’t.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Not only would you have let him - you would’ve trusted him to do all those things to you.

*high pitched scream only dogs can hear*

‘You can have my shirt,’ he offers.

👀 tumny?!

Your fingers twitch, yearning to reach out and tug him in by the front of his jeans, to untuck that vest and push it up and off. You want to snake your hands around his waist, hold him to you by the small of his back, and starting with his tummy, kiss your way across the soft belly - maybe with a cheeky scrape of teeth - up to his firm chest, his strong neck and to his lips. 

😭😩🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 I too just want to squish and nibble. 😔

Your whole body jolts backwards when his voice pierces through your addled haze, low and raspy, snapping out of your sordid stupor almost grumpily - how rude of him to interrupt? - only to find him peering down at you with a lopsided smile. 

😤 won't lick the cream cheese frosting off and now THIS?!?!?? unacceptable. Rude. So rude. How dare.

Joel arches an eyebrow and closes the gap between you with three long, deliberate steps, one finger skimming where his shirt meets the waistband of your jeans. He teases with a smirk, ‘What’s that, sweetheart? This contractor look doin’ somethin’ for you?’

😤😤😤😤😤😤😤😤😤 of course it is.

Running a tired hand down his face, Joel’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender. ‘Ellie, this is Pin. Pin, I’m sorry.’

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

‘Please,’ he interjects.

He's back in tired dad mode I love it

Joel scoffs. ‘Good to know those three weeks fixing that piece of junk for you was time well spent.'

I can just hear the sass 🤣🤣🤣

Stepping back, Ellie winks, ‘So - let’s put a pin in it for now?’

HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHHAA thats my girl 😌

She scampers out of sight, but then reverses into view, sneakers squeaking. ‘ - Are you wearing Joel’s shirt?’

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed when your shins knock into his, breaking the kiss with a laugh as Joel hauls you up into his chest, looking very much pleased that he’s literally made your knees buckle.

😌🔥

‘You’ve made yourself scarce,’ remarks Lucy as she ambles up to you with a glass of wine running low. ‘Where you been, hon?’

Did you get the door fixed? No? Mind your own business Lucy 😤

Your Ellie was great puns and all. 10/10 no notes. 😌🔥

III ║ Edgestitch

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part II: Threads | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: M

Summary: You wear those jeans for Joel when you see him again at the baby shower at Tommy and Maria's - like he asked you to.

Warnings: Spicy thoughts but not explicit, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, flirting, mention of food and drink, some language, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7k

Notes: It's here! This one was a long and winding road as I mentioned in Behind the Seams, I'm so relieved and excited when it all finally clicked and fell into place! I'm absolutely blown away by the love you guys have shown Joel and Pin so far, thank you, there's no greater motivation for a writer ❤️ I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

‘Damnit, Lucy,’ you mutter under your breath, this close to stamping your foot and pouting at the door that refuses to lock up. 

Lucy may be your best friend, but you’re not blind to the fact that she literally cannot be trusted to get anything done around the shop. It’s been two weeks since she promised to get the locksmith to come in, but here you are on Friday evening, wrestling with the key that refuses to turn the last quarter of an inch in the faulty lock.

‘Hey, Pin!’

Glancing over your shoulder, you force a wane smile at Tommy, who has his hands full with a cardboard box at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Need some help?’

‘Yes, please,’ you reply sheepishly.

You nod at the bottles of wine that clink delicately against one another as he sets them down. ‘Getting ready for the party on Sunday?’

Tommy steps up to the door and wriggles the key left and right experimentally. ‘Yeah, you comin’, right?’

‘Yes, with Lucy.’

‘Good, the more the merrier!’ He makes a face at the door lock, which is not cooperating with him either. ‘You should get someone to look at it. Probably time for a new one.’

‘Lucy was supposed to get Andrew to fix it, but you know Luce.’

Tommy yanks the door knob backwards hard as he twists the key. There’s a grunt of metal, and a triumphant aha! when it finally turns, the internal mechanisms of the lock sliding into place with a satisfying click. 

You nearly fall onto your knees in relief. ‘Thank you so much, Tommy. You’re a lifesaver.’

He grins and deposits the key in your waiting palm. ‘You can ask Joel for help, you know. He’s handy with this kind of stuff.’

You blink, blindsided by the seemingly random mention of his brother - but his dimpled smile tells you otherwise.

His brother, who was so solid and broad under you on the studio floor, just a few days ago. His brother, who you can still feel pressed between your thighs, in your bed in the dead of night. His brother, who has taken up residence in your mind, waking or otherwise, since he sauntered out of your shop with that infuriatingly attractive confidence when he asked you to to wear those jeans for him again on Sunday.

Joel has existed solely and safely in the parameters of your workspace for the past fortnight and a half, with only Lucy bearing witness to whatever it is between the two of you. Having to suddenly deal with any mention of him outside of it, especially with that knowing arch of Tommy’s eyebrow, has you completely flustered. It doesn’t help that his eyes are uncannily like Joel’s, a gorgeous deep brown, expressive and sharp, though the mischief sits a lot closer to the surface in the former’s.

Mercifully, your brain unscrambles long enough for you to reach the conclusion that of course, Joel must have told Tommy that he invited you and Lucy. It’s their party, after all. Surely, he doesn’t know anything else -

Or does he?

You’ve been quiet for too long to say anything about it now, so you clumsily change the subject, stumbling over your words. ‘I, uh - I was just wondering what I could bring on Sunday?’

Tommy graciously lets you off the hook. ‘We’re a bit short on sweets, actually, if you bake.’

You latch on to that gratefully. ‘I do - what kind of cake were you thinking?’

‘Do you make a carrot cake?’

You perk up. ‘It’s my favourite!’

He flashes you a cheeky grin. ‘What a funny coincidence, it’s Joel’s as well - the only way to get carrots in him.’

Your pulse spikes with adrenaline at the unexpected tidbit Tommy drops in your lap, and you greedily squirrel that little fact away, slowly colouring in the Joel-shaped space in your head.

With a wink, Tommy bends down to pick up the wine. ‘See you in a couple of days, Pin!’

At least you have the decency to wait until he turns the corner - once he does, you sprint across the road to the Jackson Grocer’s and clear out their stock of carrots for the day.

There are many things about Jackson that throw Joel. 

The plentitude after years of rations. The safety, which comes off more jarring than comforting.

But most of all, it’s the sounds. The kettle on the boil and the pop of the toaster in the morning when Ellie gets ready for school. Friendly chatter on the high street. Laughter. It still makes him jump when he hears playful shrieks in the neighbourhood playground, blood rushing in his ears and sending him halfway across the house for his rifle before he remembers where he is.

Where he is not.

It was always loud in the QZ. Loudspeakers blaring, alarms wailing, the indistinct hum of conversation and radio through paper thin walls in the slums at all hours of the day. And he was always listening - for danger, for trouble, and everything in between.

And then all that noise had blown up, literally, with the State House. With Tess.

Joel finds it hard to remember those first few days after leaving Boston behind. Mostly the raw cuts on his knuckles that wouldn’t heal and the ring in his right ear from the explosion, lingering like a pesky fly. 

But he knows it was Ellie who broke that silence first. And once that door was kicked down - 

‘Fuck no, dude!’

His face snaps up and he scowls across the lawn, the stern reprimand rolling off his tongue like second nature. ‘Ellie!’

She’s sitting with her friends, crowded around her most prized possession of the moment, a boombox she found in the thrift shop a couple of months ago and begged him to buy and fix up for her. 

Not that she needed to do much begging, he caved far too easily. It plays a bit wonky - the bass too heavy - still, it does the trick.

The teenagers around her cower immediately, but she defiantly stands her ground. ‘What?’

‘Watch your language,’ he barks, no real bite behind it.

She rolls her eyes so hard her head falls back, and he has to press his lips together to not smile.

It helps him sleep better at night seeing Ellie fit right in - at least one of them has. She doesn’t hate going to school half as much as she pretends to, the routine of homework and chores anchoring her to small town life. She’s even volunteered to help out at the farm, spending most afternoons in the stables with the horses.

There are times when he wonders to which extent all this is a coping mechanism. But well, at least she’s coping.

And while Joel still hasn’t made up his mind about Jackson, its townsfolk seem to have unilaterally made theirs up about him. The wary whispers and watchful stares have given way to cautious gestures of acknowledgement, some even bold enough to throw a good morning in his general direction as he walks down the street. 

They nod at him now as they file into the garden party, still keeping their distance, but not as much as he would’ve liked.

The expectant parents have gone all out for the occasion. Several tables are lined up end to end in the middle of the garden, filling up with potluck dishes as guests arrive. Tommy lords over the barbeque, the brisket having been smoking since dawn, with chicken, bacon and homemade sausages sizzling on the grill. Maria is in her element, flitting from well wisher to well wisher with a protective hand over her rounded belly, making sure everyone has a drink and a loaded plate in hand.

Joel hovers in no man’s land, dodging the crowds and sipping on beer that has long gone flat, trying to remember the last time he celebrated anything. 

Well, he supposes dinner parties at Bill and Frank’s count, as far and few in between as they were. Not that they ever celebrated anything specific, per se - they didn’t need a reason beyond the fact that they were all still alive and kicking. Bill, bless his soul, did make a mean roast, and Frank used to host with enough flair for forty instead of four. Tess had a black dress she stowed away at the back of her closet for these parties, and a red one that she saved for the really special occasions -

A strong hand on his back jolts him forward and out of his thoughts, spilling lukewarm beer over his fingers.

‘Havin’ a good time, brother?’ asks Tommy jovially, cheeks stretched with joy.

‘I was just now,’ he grunts pointedly.

Tommy grins. ‘Lighten up, man. Get drunk, be merry! You’re gonna be an uncle.’

‘Don’t try to butter me up. I ain’t babysittin’ for you.’

Thumping his chest in mock hurt, he asks, ‘What about all those times I babysat Sarah, man?’

Joel gives him a long-suffering side stare. ‘Please. You used to hire that college chick ‘cross the street to babysit whenever you were supposed to. Then you’d hit on her all night long.’

Tommy chuckles. ‘Damn, your mind’s in better shape than I give you credit for, old man.’

He can’t help a smile. ‘But for all your devious plans to get into her babysitter’s pants, Sarah did love her Uncle Tommy.’

He goes quiet for a beat and takes a sip of his beer, his eyes softening. ‘I think about that girl every single day, y’know.’ 

Joel nods, staring into his own beer, and it suddenly strikes him that he’s missed the shape of her name on his lips. ‘I know.’

Tommy nudges him on the shoulder. ‘I can only hope my kid will love their Uncle Joel just as much.’

Eventually, he harrumphs, ‘If they do - I’ll think about the babysittin’.’

Tommy chortles just as the backdoor to the porch swings open with a loud creak.

Joel spots you easily, trailing one step behind Lucy. You’re holding onto a cake on a round wooden board like a security blanket, shoulders tense and eyes wide at the noise of the festivities. Spotting Maria, Lucy bounds down the stairs, leaving you hesitating at the landing, and -

You’re wearing the jeans he asked you to.

Something primal swells in the cavity of his chest, between his ribs - a pride that is distinctly male.

Tommy shouts, ‘Pin! Over here!’

Joel shifts on his feet, swallowing thickly as you approach. If your shy smile is anything to go by, he’s not the only one feeling the nerves.

His brother gives you a careful hug around the cake and plants a kiss on your cheek. When he steps aside, Joel hesitates, uneasy with having an audience, his palms suddenly clammy with indecision.

Does he… hug you? He can count on three fingers who he’s hugged for the past twenty years, and he’s sorely out of practice. A kiss is an option, but the way his eyes dart to your mouth, it’s dangerous even entertaining that thought - 

Tommy elbows him in the ribs and puts him out of his misery. ‘Why don’t you kids catch up, I think the brisket’s burnin’. Have fun tonight!’

Joel can feel the tip of his ears turning red as he stands there with his drink, one hand shoved in his back pocket, not knowing how to do this. How to entertain. Clearing his throat, he stammers, ‘Uh - can I get you a drink or somethin’?’

You give him a small smile, lips moving in an answer too quiet to reach him over the music. Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he admits, ‘Sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m uh - a bit deaf in my right ear.’

You look apologetic, speaking up, ‘I’m sorry - I didn’t know.’

With a shrug, he jokes, ‘It’s ok, I’m a bit broken all over.’

You pinch your lips, and he recoginses that face - he knows that you want to disagree with him. But you hold your tongue, skirting around him to his good ear, and he stoops to close the distance, even though he doesn’t need to.

Your breath brushes his ear. ‘I’d love a drink, but I want to put this cake away first.’

‘Yes, of course - sorry, don’t know where my manners went.’ He puts his unfinished beer away and takes the cake from you despite your protests. The potluck table is packed to the brim, so he gestures towards the house. ‘It might have to go into the kitchen for now.’

You follow him, side by side with one polite body width between you, past bands of neighbours and friends catching up, the fairy lights catching your eyes and the well-kept lawn crunching beneath your soles. Unsurprisingly, you feel the weight of curious stares on your back as you go - Joel is still very much a novelty around town. Neither of you speak until he holds open the backdoor for you to slip inside.

It’s quiet in the kitchen, the muted conversation outside a low hum through the double-glazed windows. The free-standing island is already chock full of all kinds of baked goods and pudding, and Joel has to move an actual jelly castle (which wriggles precariously) to free up space for your contribution.

Dusting his hands, Joel turns to you. ‘That carrot cake?’

You nod, keeping mum.

‘It’s my favourite.’

‘I know - Tommy told me,’ you confess with a bashful half-shrug.

His warm eyes crinkle at the corners. ‘Talkin’ about me behind my back, sweetheart?’

Your breath quickens at the sweetheart, and you wonder if the thrill of the nickname will ever wear thin. Emboldened, you tilt your head to one side and tease, ‘Why? You like the attention?’

A smirk on his lips, he steps into your space, the very proximity of him stealing the air from your lungs. ‘I might if you’re not careful.’

And there you are again - with nothing more than a dozen words exchanged and even more unsaid - on the brink of something, right where you left off on the workshop floor.

‘Wanna grab a bite to eat?’

Tucked away in an intimate corner of the back porch in a wicker chair, Joel surveys the party with a seriousness that is borderline comical. 

The strategist in him clearly favours the higher ground the porch affords him so he can keep an eye on everyone and spot whoever approaches from a distance. His seat is an easy three steps to the door, an escape plan in his back pocket. For all his stillness, the intensity is unmistakable, if slightly out of place in a baby shower.

Two dirty plates licked clean are stacked on the coffee table between you, piled high with bones and leftover gravy, the delicious food sitting warm in your stomach.

‘They’re comin’ closer,’ Joel complains, taking a long gulp of his beer.

‘I guess they figure if I’m talking to you, it means that you don’t actually bite,’ you quip.

‘Will they back off if I make you cry?’

Your shoulders quake with a chuckle. ‘I think you’re too much of a gentleman to do that, Joel Miller.’

You’re taken aback by the flash of heat in his answering glance, as if there’s something he wants to say. But then, he changes his mind and leans back in his chair, one palm resting on his spread thighs, and he nods towards a couple standing close to the barbeque.

‘Who’s that over there? He lives on my street.’

‘That’s Andrew. He owns the only hot tub in Jackson.’

Joel splutters, ‘A hot tub?’

‘To be fair, it came with his house, but he managed to connect it to the water a few months ago.’

He snorts. ‘Not very communist of him to divert public resources for a private hot tub.’

‘Let’s just say Jackson is a commune with American characteristics,’ you say diplomatically.

He arches an eyebrow at you. ‘A cynic, sweetheart?’

You reply matter-of-factly, ‘We all know how communism ended.’

Fuck. He takes a swig of his beer and swallows hard. A woman after his own heart.

‘You want to keep him on your good side though. He’s really handy with electrics and the like.’

He shrugs. ‘So am I.’

You turn to him, surprised. ‘Oh?’

‘I was a contractor in another life.’

He notices your attention flicker to his hands, before you catch yourself and look away bashfully. ‘That’s good to know.’

‘You need things fixed?’ he asks, and promptly wants to kick himself for sounding so hopeful to be of service.

‘Here and there,’ you say with a dismissive wave. ‘It’s not important. It’ll hold up.’

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip thoughtfully. You have to work on asking for things, but it’s ok - he doesn’t push you. He files that away for later.

Glancing across the yard, he catches Ellie’s eye, who’s arching an inquisitive eyebrow and pointing straight at you with all the subtlety of a flying brick. He knows he should probably introduce you at some point, but he’s not ready to share your attention with someone else just yet, let alone the nosy teenage loudmouth.

Joel gives her a firm shake of the head, to which she responds with a disgruntled I’m watching you gesture.

Ignoring her for now - and knowing that he’ll pay for it later - he asks you, ‘And who’s that in the red dress?’

You crane your neck until you spot her. ‘Ah, that’s Patricia. She’s the dance teacher down at the school.’

‘Why’s she starin’ at me?’ he mutters.

You shoot him an amused grin. ‘Why, it looks like you’ve caught the fancy of our local femme fatale.’

He scoffs. ‘Should I be worried?’

‘Well, she’s been married and divorced three times since she arrived,’ you answer with a straight face. ‘The last one just disappeared. Never found his body.’

Joel stares at you in stunned silence, until you let out a poorly contained giggle. He grumbles, ‘Havin’ fun pullin’ my leg, sweetheart?’

‘Just a bit,’ you tease.

‘I liked you better when you were shy,’ he ribs.

You shrug. ‘Too late. You don’t scare me anymore.’

Glancing the other way, Joel sits up in alarm at the flutter of crimson fabric. ‘Shit, I think she’s comin’ this way.’

‘Time for carrot cake?’ you prompt.

He’s out of his chair quicker than you’d expect his knees would allow him to. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

The state of the kitchen island stops you in your tracks, while Joel lets out a low whistle behind you. ‘Jackson really turned out for this party, huh?’

‘Well, your brother and sister-in-law are pretty popular around town,’ you quip.

You didn’t think it was possible, but every square inch of the kitchen island is now jam-packed with sugary confections, stacked on top of one another.

‘I can’t even find the bloody cake,’ you laugh, literally searching high and low as you skirt the parameter.

On the other side of the island, Joel tosses a dry good luck in your direction and puts the dirty plates and cutlery that he brought in into the sink with a clatter, turning on the hot water. You stutter to a stop opposite him, gawking at how his broad shoulders fill the frame of the window that sits in front of the sink, before your gaze inadvertently trails south - over the nip of his waist and the hem of his shirt skirting the back pockets of his jeans. You find yourself wishing he’d tucked the tails in.

Rooted to the spot, you watch him unbutton the cuffs on his flannel shirt and push up the sleeves to the crease of his elbows, baring his strong forearms. Your mouth goes dry despite the wine you’ve been sipping on all evening, peering at the sinewy muscles flexing and straining as he lathers the plates with an offhand familiarity, his thick fingers dwarfing the sponge in as he works the grease stains. 

Making quick but thorough work of the washing up, Joel dries the plates and then runs the tea towel over his big hands and wrists, catching you staring as he turns around. If he knows you’ve been watching all along, he lets it slide. Tossing the towel to one side, heat prickles under your cheeks when he sidles up to you with the clean plates.

The sight of this man doing something as mundane as dishes really shouldn’t get you this hot and bothered.

‘Is that cream cheese?’ he asks conversationally with a nod at your cake, which you have found sitting on top of a tall plastic caddy, a chocolate cake inside.

Having to consciously unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you’re surprised your voice doesn’t shake. ‘It’s not carrot cake without it.’

‘Where did you get the cream cheese? Never seen any ‘round town.’

Almost bashful, you admit, ‘I made it.’

His eyebrows shoot up. ‘You made cream cheese? How?’

‘It’s not that big a deal. It’s just milk, lemon and salt,’ you say, trying to downplay it. Your arms are definitely not aching from the hours of straining and beating and whipping.

‘And the walnuts?’ he asks.

‘Someone I know grows it,’ you say vaguely.

Joel hums doubtfully. ‘Ain’t seen any walnut trees in town.’

Biting your bottom lip, you can pinpoint the exact moment he figures it out, brows drawing together in a frown. ‘The only ones I’ve seen are outside the walls, ‘round the north side of the gates.’

Knowing for a fact that you’re a terrible liar, you don’t even try. You choose to ignore him, idly smoothing the frosting on top with a clean knife, trying not to flinch at the weight of his gaze on you.

‘Sweetheart, please tell me you didn’t go outside just to get walnuts for me.’

‘Not for you,’ you shoot back unconvincingly, flustered. ‘I made the cake for Tommy and Maria.’

Lies. You know it. He knows it.

His shoulders stiffen, the fabric of his shirt bunching with the movement. ‘You can’t just go outside like that, y’know, there could be infected ‘round -’

‘Joel, I’ve been living here for years, I know what I’m doing,’ you argue huffily, not expecting a lecture, of all things. ‘I’m not stupid.’

He shakes his head. ‘Ain’t what I’m sayin’, Pin -’

‘Just leave it, ok?’ you reply sharply and, signalling an end to the conversation, you slice into the cake with an aggressive stab - not noticing that it is hanging over the edge of the caddy below. 

You squeak when it flips unceremoniously, and on pure impulse, you pitch forward to stop its upward trajectory, meeting it mid-air with an ominous splat.

‘Fuck!’

To his credit, Joel barely skips a beat, quickly but calmly grabbing hold of the cake board and pulling it off you, setting it down on the counter, while you gape in dismay at the damage done. 

The side of the cake that made contact with you is smushed in, most of the thick frosting now painted all over your front, from your neck down to the lovely, thin cashmere top that Lucy picked out for you for the party.

You really hope there’s a big guy up there watching, because someone might as well enjoy this mortifying brand of comedy you keep dishing out around this man.

Two seconds more, and you’re pretty sure you would’ve burst into tears for lack of knowing what else to do - but without another word, Joel takes the lead, wrapping a firm hand around your wrist and pulling you out of the kitchen. 

You gratefully let him.

It’s none of your business really, but it comforts you that Joel’s obviously here often enough to know his way around the house.

You glance around the dimly lit room where he deposited you on the edge of a neatly made bed, water trickling in the adjoining ensuite. When he returns, he has a small, wet towel in his hands. Towering over you, the low lights don’t quite reach his face, but you can see the way his gaze slips downwards, carefully, as if he’s afraid to startle you.

But he doesn’t - not even when he slides the crook of his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up and opening up your throat.

His lips twitch wryly. ‘What a waste of perfectly good cream cheese.’

Despite yourself, a laugh escapes you at the absurdity of the situation. ‘Must something always go wrong whenever we’re in the same room?’

The corner of his mouth teases a smile. ‘Never a dull moment with you, sweetheart.’

You smile back, but it falters when his eyes burn in a quiet but unmistakable smoulder. 

‘May I?’

You’re not even sure what he’s asking. But he can ask you anything in that raspy, low baritone, and there will always only be one answer.

At your nod, Joel drags the tip of his index finger down the column of your neck, and your lips part when it glides over your windpipe - pressing just hard enough for you to feel the pressure - collecting the velvety frosting as it goes. 

Then, holding your eyes, he sucks the cream cheese off his fingertip, a hum deep in his throat. ‘Delicious, sweetheart.’

You’re sitting down, but somehow, you still feel your knees give way at how he smacks his lips at the sugary aftertaste.

He looms closer, bending at the waist and for one moment of madness, you think he might lean down and lick your neck clean. 

At the prospect of those plush lips and the burn of his silvered, patchy beard on your skin, your head tilts further back invitingly. His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, like he’s picking up on what you’re thinking, and his eyes dip to your mouth.

But he doesn’t.

You don’t even have time to be disappointed before Joel carefully gets down on one knee in front of you, one palm landing on the mattress next to your hip for balance. Knowing the state of his joints, you want to ask if he needs a pillow, but instead of your mouth, it’s your thighs that part to make room for him. His chest keeps them splayed open, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his ribcage with each breath through the denim. 

You try to focus on your own breathing as Joel presses the wet towel to your skin and mops up the sticky mess, his face set seriously as he cleans you up inch by inch. But all you can think about is how you can feel the imprint of his fingers through the thin fabric, and how the span of his hand can easily fit over the column of your throat -

You don’t realise you’re leaning into him until he draws back when he’s done, and you tip forward, chasing his touch. His knee groans as he stands up to his full height, and he nods towards the bathroom with a wait here in his eyes.

The water is scalding as Joel washes out the frosting from the towel, but he keeps his hands under the tap, longer than he needs to. Wringing it dry, he takes a moment, wet palms gripping the cold porcelain edge of the bathroom sink, shoulders hunched over as he tells himself to calm the fuck down.

Except, he is calm. He’s held back, even when you looked at him with such straightforward, honest want that has him grinding his teeth.

Thing is, he knows you would’ve let him nudge you backwards into the mattress and crowd you between his arms, switching places the two of you were in under your sewing desk in the workshop.

He knows you would’ve let him wrap your legs around his hips, sliding his palms up the back of your thighs in those skin tight jeans - the sight of which is enough to make his head spin - and he knows you would’ve let him nip, suck, lick the tangy buttercream off your very neck. 

Not only would you have let him - you would’ve trusted him to do all those things to you.

That last realisation awakens something he’s not so sure he has a handle on. But he knows for a fact that with the whole of Jackson milling about downstairs, in the middle of his brother’s baby shower, is neither the place nor the time.

You’re where he left you when he steps back into the bedroom, your palms planted on the bed, your shoulders relaxed. The neckline of your blouse gapes loosely, teasing the soft skin of your cleavage.

Joel breaks the loaded silence with a bit of common sense. ‘You best get that top off and soak it in the bath before the stains really set in, sweetheart.’

You bite your lip hesitantly. ‘I - I don’t have anything to change into.’

‘You can have my shirt,’ he offers.

You sit up, attention piqued, when his hands move to the top of his flannel, thick fingers sliding each button out of the holes one by one. You know he’s just taking off his shirt, but you can’t help the way your jaw goes slack, watching shamelessly, the comforter twisting in your grip as you scrabble for something to hold onto. 

Joel doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, but it’s so flattering to watch you watch him, eyes hooded and your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip, like he’s giving you a fucking strip tease or something. 

Goddamn if it doesn’t go straight to his head.

A white undervest comes into view, inch by inch, as the shirt falls open, the thin fabric pulled taut at the seams over the broad stretch of his chest. When the last button is undone, he shrugs the shirt off with a smooth roll of his arms, and your jaw drops.

The undervest barely contains the bulk of him, and you’ll be damned if you know where to look first - the lean, solid line of his arms, or the effortless ripple of muscle in his shoulders - but it’s lower where your attention makes landing, and it takes you a second to realise why.

He’s not sucking in his tummy.

The swell of his abdomen sits above the top of his jeans, where the vest is neatly tucked in. You remember too well the brush of that soft strip of skin against the back of your hands when you were on your knees, cutting him out of his jeans; and then beneath you, straddling him under the sewing table. 

While there’s an undercurrent of self-consciousness in the way he holds himself, conspicuously missing is the self-deprecation that drew your ire the day he walked into your shop with a broken zipper. A tentative confidence has taken its place, which is at the same time so endearingly vulnerable, as if your reaction to the little show he gave you just now isn’t enough to assure him of what you’re thinking.

Your fingers twitch, yearning to reach out and tug him in by the front of his jeans, to untuck that vest and push it up and off. You want to snake your hands around his waist, hold him to you by the small of his back, and starting with his tummy, kiss your way across the soft belly - maybe with a cheeky scrape of teeth - up to his firm chest, his strong neck and to his lips. 

Or maybe, the calling southwards will win out. You’ll push him back to make room for yourself at his feet, nudging your way down his front with your nose, breathe him in, your hands finding his belt buckle and tugging it out of the loops instead. Never mind you've lost count of how many years it's been since you've wanted to do that, or if you remember how at all -

‘Pin.’

Your whole body jolts backwards when his voice pierces through your addled haze, low and raspy, snapping out of your sordid stupor almost grumpily - how rude of him to interrupt? - only to find him peering down at you with a lopsided smile. 

‘Get changed, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.’

Leaving your top to soak in the sink, you pad back into the bedroom in just your bra, and you stare down at his shirt laid out neatly on top of the bed.

You press your palm over where his heart would be, the flannel still warm. For one indulgent moment, you pick up the shirt and hug it to you. It smells like him - the outdoors, a crisp spring day, with a whiff of the barbeque smoke from downstairs. You bury your nose into the soft fabric, eyes closed, imagining the weight and shape of him in it. 

Even as you put your arms through the sleeves to button it up, you already know it will be hard giving it back. You leave the last three buttons undone and you’ve just tied up the too-long ends in a double knot when there’s a polite but firm knock on the door. 

‘You decent?’

‘Yes.’

You hope your face doesn’t fall too obviously at the sight of Joel wearing a shirt again, probably one borrowed from Tommy. He leaves it unbuttoned though, which is small consolation. The air hums between you with stolen glances and words unsaid.

‘You wore those jeans for me,’ he says suddenly.

The for me rolls off his tongue coated in his delectable Southern drawl and a heady satisfaction.

You decide to be brave and shrug one shoulder in a show of attitude. ‘It was the only thing I didn’t have in the wash.’

His grin makes your heart swell. Stepping out of the open doorway, his eyes trailing heat where they linger over you, he says, ‘You look good in my shirt, sweetheart. Real good.’

You bite your lower lip at the compliment, replying shyly, ‘I like this look on you too.’

‘Used to be Tommy’s uniform during our contractor days,’ he reminiscences. ‘I’m just missing the utility belt.’

Oh. You actually find it offensive that the fleeting mention of something as banal as a utility belt should get you going like this. You try to palm off a non-committal hum, but your body betrays you with a strangled choking sound that gives you away.

Joel arches an eyebrow and closes the gap between you with three long, deliberate steps, one finger skimming where his shirt meets the waistband of your jeans. He teases with a smirk, ‘What’s that, sweetheart? This contractor look doin’ somethin’ for you?’

Your cheeks grow hot as both his palms latch boldly onto your hips, and you swear you can feel the burn of his fingertips through the denim, a moan gargling in your throat as your ability to form words abandons you.

‘That a yes?’ he prompts, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops in your jeans and tugging your body flush against his, his stubbled chin brushing the sensitive crook of your neck as he speaks into your ear.

‘Joel,’ you whine, which is the best you can do right now, grabbing onto the open flaps of his shirt just to stay upright.

You feel the rumble that goes through his chest under your palms when he purrs, smiling down at you, head cocked to one side with a playful condescension that’s going to be the end of you. ‘Yes, Pin?’

Your mouth opens, but you’ll never get to find out what you intended to say, because you hear it first - his right ear is to the door - the thunder of rubber soles on the stairs, and you're lucky you manage to stumble two steps back before a deafening (no pun intended), drawn-out call of his name follows.

‘JOOOOOOELLLL!’

Ellie crashes into the doorway with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, slightly out of breath like she’s been running all over the place searching for him, already in the middle of a sentence, as usual. 

‘- also Maria says they’re doing a speech now and you’re not getting out of -’ she breaks off abruptly when she spots you, eyes wide and brows - all one and a half of them - reaching for her hairline. ‘Oh shiiiiiit.’

Running a tired hand down his face, Joel’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender. ‘Ellie, this is Pin. Pin, I’m sorry.’

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh at the resignation in his tone as the teenager wrinkles her nose. ‘Pin? That’s a weird name.’

‘Ellie!’

You smile. ‘It’s ok. Pin's just my nickname. I’m a seamstress at the Main Street Outfitters.’

Her face lights up excitedly, an open book if you’ve ever seen one. ‘No shit! I’ve been bugging Joel for a leather jacket for ages. Can I get one?’

‘Please,’ he interjects.

Ellie tucks in her chin and juts out her bottom lip at you. ‘Please?’

You demur. ‘Well, it depends on what you can trade in for it.’

‘My boombox!’ she volunteers without skipping a beat. 

Joel scoffs. ‘Good to know those three weeks fixing that piece of junk for you was time well spent.'

‘Sorry, man, but I can’t wear a boombox can I?’ she argues.

Giving Joel an amused look, you come to his rescue. ‘I’m sorry, Ellie, but we only take clothes in exchange.’ At the way she deflates, you counteroffer, ‘Or, you can come work at the shop on Saturdays for the next couple of months. Lucy always needs help out front, and you get a staff discount.’

He turns to you, protesting, ‘That’s very kind, but it ain’t necessary -’

Ellie cuts in, rushing up to you to shake your hand before you can take it back. ‘Deal! When can I start?’

‘There’s no rush,’ you reply with a chuckle. ‘I’ll get back to you next week.’

Stepping back, Ellie winks, ‘So - let’s put a pin in it for now?’

Joel groans at the terrible pun. ‘Get outta here!’

She cackles, firing triumphant finger guns at you as she retreats. ‘What? Pin liked it, she laughed! You’re no fun old man!’ 

She then pauses by the door, her eyes narrowing as she zeroes in on something smeared on your jeans. ‘Wait - what’s that white stuff on your leg?’

‘It’s cream cheese, you little shit!’ Joel snaps as your ears burn in embarrassment. ‘Out!’

She scampers out of sight, but then reverses into view, sneakers squeaking. ‘ - Are you wearing Joel’s shirt?’

‘ELLIE!’

She throws her hands up. ‘Alright, I’m gone, I’m gone! See ya Pin!’

Joel is the very picture of an embarrassed dad, rubbing the back of his neck with a wince. ‘Sorry, she’s a handful.’

You grin, ‘She’s just a teenager.’

‘You can say that again.’

The quiet seems louder after Ellie, and you restlessly pick at the sleeves. Lifting your eyes shyly, it seems the moment has passed - but Joel has other ideas.

‘C’mere,’ he hums, drawing you close again with one hand on your waist, peering down at you through his lashes. ‘This ok?’

At your nod, he brushes his thumb on your bottom lip, catching the soft plump skin, and your tongue darts out to taste him, his eyes darkening.

‘Can I kiss you, sweetheart?’ he asks, voice hoarse.

It’s been years. Years since anyone has cared enough to kiss you, let alone cared enough to ask if they could. And it’s as if he knows - you don’t know if you’ve somehow given it away, or maybe it’s just him. 

‘Yes, Joel.’

He coaxes you closer so that you’re pressed along the whole length of him. His big palms are warm and solid on the small of your back, holding you to him like he intends for you to have trouble standing after he’s done with you. 

The tip of his nose bumps into your cheek, nudging its way across and down, and your eyes slide shut when his shaky exhale grazes your gently parted mouth. Your breath hitches at the sweet burn of his beard on your jaw, fingers grabbing onto the scruff of his neck when he finally, finally brushes his lips against yours.

For a man as hardened as Joel Miller, he sure kisses soft. He steals a whimper straight from your throat with nothing more than the clever angling of his lips, the slow drag of tongue on tongue, and a growl deep in his windpipe that you answer with your own moan.

You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed when your shins knock into his, breaking the kiss with a laugh as Joel hauls you up into his chest, looking very much pleased that he’s literally made your knees buckle.

‘Sorry,’ you squeak, beaming despite yourself.

‘You really know how to flatter a guy, sweetheart,’ he answers, his voice warming you like a smokey campfire, steadying by his hands on your hips.

‘We should probably go before Ellie comes back for us,’ you say reluctantly.

Joel huffs, ‘Ain’t gonna hear the end of it if she does.’

‘Something tells me you won’t be hearing the end of it tonight anyway,’ you tease.

He chucks you gently under the chin, his eyes soft. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

‘You’ve made yourself scarce,’ remarks Lucy as she ambles up to you with a glass of wine running low. ‘Where you been, hon?’

‘Had some trouble with the cake,’ you answer vaguely.

‘Sure,’ she winks at you, unconvinced. ‘If we’re calling him that.’

Right on cue, Joel strides across the lawn with three plates to join you. ‘Thought you might want some of Pin’s carrot cake.’

‘Such a gentleman, Joel Miller,’ chirps Lucy, making what can only be described as a 'thirst face' at you when his back is turned to her.

‘Thanks, Joel,’ you smile at him, letting your fingers graze his deliberately when you take the plate from him.

Saluting you with a forkful of cake, he says, ‘Thank you for bakin’, sweetheart.’

You watch as his lips close around the fork, dragging the cake clean off the slots, cream cheese smearing the corner of his mouth. He frowns, as if in deep pain as he chews, Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows.

‘Okay?’ you ask nervously, your slice still untouched.

‘Perfect,’ he declares, already having a second, bigger bite. Knowing he doesn’t have a superfluous bone in his body, your chest warms at his words.

‘Wait a second,’ Lucy interrupts, bringing up her plate to inspect it closely. ‘Why does the cake look all wonky?’

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, Luce,’ you answer coolly, taking a bite yourself.

Humming around a mouthful of moist crumb, the sweet carrot balanced out by the tangy frosting, you meet Joel’s eyes in the soft glow of fairy lights, and he flashes you a conspiratorial smile that makes you grin.

More notes: On Ellie - I was so so nervous about writing our resident teenage badass. I hope I've done her justice, I certainly had a lot of fun writing her introduction to Pin! If you're interested in a detailed deep dive into my process writing this chapter, I do recommend you read the Behind the Seams for this part ❤️

I also went back and forth on the tone and style of this chapter a lot. I wasn’t happy with the way it read, probably still not 100% happy. I like the way Seams and Threads were written better, but the fact is that this chapter is a very different setting and narrative compared to the first two, so I’m trying to be too hard on myself.

So, I have some ideas for where the story will go from here, but nothing concrete. As I've mentioned, I see this fic as more of a loose-fit series, so there's no overarching plot per se, but there's definitely a lot of room for future episodes of these two - I mean, they haven't even done the deed yet 😉

Comments, asks and reblogs are greatly appreciated as always! Thank you so much for reading, I'm so excited to hear what you guys thought of this chapter 😘

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Plastic Hearts

Chapter Four: Hate Me

pairing: dieter bravo x actress!oc (violet)

chapter rating: E (no explicit smut, just tiddies out and penis talk, mentions of insecurity, body image issues, substance use, arguments, angsty ending bc these two are sad bbs)

word count: 4.7k

series masterlist

“Good Morning America, we are back from commercial break with the absolutely stunning Violet Apollo.” The all-too cherry news anchor smiled widely at Violet as she sat across from her and her co-anchor. “How are you doing this morning, Violet? I know you must’ve had a wild night last night after your partner hosted Saturday Night Live.”

“Wasn’t too wild, thankfully. I was back in my bed before midnight, so I’m feeling pretty okay today. I downed a few shots of espresso and now I couldn’t close my eyes if I wanted to.” Violet joked, intentionally leaving out the part where she was woken up in the middle of the night to her “boyfriend” getting sucked off by a model right in front of her.

“Look at you being responsible,” the man playfully teased and she faked a laugh at that. “How about Dieter? He had a lot to celebrate, I bet he’s feeling it today.”

“Uh, yeah. He’s still asleep back at the hotel.” Violet tried not to sound bitter, but she knew that a crack was beginning to form in the carefully crafted mask she’d been wearing her entire career—and all from one little heartbreak. “He was so good on SNL last night, can we give him a moment? So good.”

“He was! I didn’t know he was that funny, he’s always so serious.”

“Yeah, is he always that funny around you? Is that one of the things that drew you to him?” The female anchor asked with a head tilt, Violet feeling the urge to scream building inside of her with every mention of Dieter. But this was a part of the job and she was gonna fucking do it.

“He does alright,” she chuckled and shrugged. “I’m definitely more of the comedian, I’d say. But truthfully, we’re both just talkers. I think that’s what makes us so good together. We love talking to each other.”

“You know what they say, communication is key.” The man chimed in with a winning smile before looking down at his notes. “Alright, enough about boys—” Cringe. “Let’s talk your new film.”

“Yes, let’s.” Violet nodded and gave them both a more genuine smile, glad to be off the subject of Dieter for a bit.

“Violet stars in Steven Spielberg’s new epic based on the ancient Greek love story of Persephone and Hades, titled: Pomegranate. Violet, you play Persephone in the film alongside Thomas Doherty as Hades. What was it like embodying a character like that?”

“I’ve always loved Persephone and have found the many iterations of their love story captivating long before I ever took on this role, but stepping into her shoes a bit, it sort of just felt like I was playing myself in a way.” Violet shrugged and smiled bashfully. “She’s sort of this tragic yet fierce character that I think a lot of the time is sort of underestimated and misunderstood and seen as someone almost needing to be saved from this underworld, but, at least in the film and in my own idea of her, it couldn’t be further from the truth. She’s an incredibly strong and fierce woman and I think the audience is going to love seeing that portrayed on screen, or at least I hope they do.”

“How was it working with Thomas? I saw him in The Invitation and fell head over heels in love with him,” the woman confessed, earning a chuckle from Violet.

“He’s so sweet and kind, and very good looking, obviously. He was just the absolute best scene partner, and neither of us have worked with someone as big as Spielberg before, so it was nice to sort of go through that experience together.”

“Well, we can’t wait to see it. Thank you for stopping by, Violet, we loved having you here this morning.” Violet nodded and gave them her best smiles, mumbling a shy ‘thank you’. “When we come back—is it possible your dog sees you as it’s parent? A new study shows it’s more likely than you might think. More when we return.”

“Alright, thank you both so much for having me.” Violet shook both of the news anchors hands before being rushed off backstage by her manager, Maria. “Did you get breakfast?”

“Yeah, it’s waiting in your dressing room.”

“I meant for yourself! You’ve been running around all morning, I haven’t even seen you stop to get a coffee.” Violet eyed the older woman, the bags under her eyes, the stress weighing down her shoulders. She tried not to ask for much or weigh her down any further with any demands or unnecessary drama, but it didn’t matter. The woman was a non-stop workaholic.

“I’m fine,” she assured with a smile, opening Violet’s dressing room for her and following her in. Violet got right to work eating her fast food breakfast, not caring about calories or nutrition as she enjoyed her McGriddle. “So how did last night go?”

“It went,” Violet spoke in a dry tone, rolling her eyes. “Dieter had a great show and a good night, that’s all that matters, right?”

“You matter too,” Maria interjected with a maternal look of concern. “Look, I appreciate how drama-free you are as a client, but as a person—you’ve gotta learn to stand up for yourself. For the way you feel.”

“I stood up for myself, I promise. Now, no more lectures or talking about Dieter. I just wanna eat my McDonalds in peace before I go back to the hotel. Okay?” Violet gave her a pleading look, Maria nodding and letting it go, choosing to scroll through her emails for the remainder of Violet’s breakfast before walking her out to the car waiting for her and seeing her off for the day.

To say that Dieter Bravo lived rent free in her mind would be an understatement. Dieter owned it—wrecked it. All that she could think about was him and his stupid fucking penis and what he was doing with it and why it wasn’t her he’d been doing it with.

It should’ve disgusted her, seeing Dieter with another woman, the way his hands stroked over her hair as she sat on her knees for him, but when she replayed the scene in her head, it was almost as though the other woman was never there to begin with.

All she could imagine was herself down on the ground in front of him, pleasing him, taking everything he had to give, hearing him moan her name just like he had on accident. That one little sentence had been lodged inside her fucking ears, replaying all morning as she tried to tune it out.

Oh fuck, Violet. Over and over. Nonstop. The cracked moan of her name punctuating the sentence she never thought she’d get to hear.

Violet knew that sex with Dieter should be off the table, scrapped completely and burned, and yet, she was still just a woman. She had needs—deep, longing, shameful needs—and the more she thought about his girth, his length, the fat tip of his cock, the way it curved up like it was designed to please, the harder it was to keep those needs at bay.

Perhaps there was a way that she could get what she wanted while not having to deal with her lack of trust for the dude. They could fuck sometimes the same way that they kiss sometimes, when one of them needed it, the other provided a friendly service, no strings attached. But every time she played out the fantasy in her mind, she could feel her imaginary self slipping up, forgetting her place, falling for a man unable to love her the way she craved. The sex could never be worth the ache of his rejection—so, celibacy it was.

For now.

•••

Dieter woke up with a startle as polite knocks sounded on the door to the fake couple’s penthouse suite, his head throbbing with each thud on the wood. He groaned as though he was an ancient vampire forced into daylight after centuries of rest, rubbing his temples and reaching for his sunglasses as he stood upright. He swayed a bit, still drunk and high, but carried himself forward, knowing that if he didn’t stop the housekeepers from entering, they’d do it on their own accord.

Dieter swallowed the vomit creeping up his esophagus before cracking the door open and sticking his face in it, hardly able to make out the housekeeper’s face through his own turmoil. “Please…no more knocking…I’m begging you.”

“W-would you like me to change the linens or leave them at the door, sir?” The woman seemed to recognize him, her eyes looking everywhere but directly at him. Dieter usually thought it was pretty funny to see people try to play off their starstruck panic, but today it only irritated him.

“Just—“ He stopped himself from speaking as the first word came out too harsh. No need to fuck her day up just because he was having a hard time. Dieter accepted the new linens and set them down on the bench right inside the entryway, reaching into the pocket of his robe and grabbing his wallet, flicking through smaller bills to find a hundred dollar bill and handing it over to her. “Thanks.”

“No, thank you, sir,” she gave him a grateful smile but he couldn’t be bothered to show any more kindness than he already had. Dieter closed the door on her and slugged his way over to the sofa, plopping down too hard, reigniting his headache.

Dieter sat facing Violet’s closed bedroom door, stuck in a daze as he thought back to the night before. He had no idea that she was standing there, watching him, but to say that it hadn’t been his inebriated intention for her to find them would be a lie. Of course he knew better than to get his dick sucked in their common space, the lewd sounds registering in his mind the entire time as too loud, but perhaps a part of him wanted her to see. Wanted to see that he was desirable.

Now, the name slip—that hadn’t been planned.

Overwhelmed by his regrets and the desire that still lingered inside of him, he pulled out his phone and ordered way too much takeout—pizza, Chinese, a bit of sushi, way too many fucking cookies from his favorite spot in the city—hoping that if he indulged himself enough, the itch to add her to the list would go away.

But just to be sure, Dieter pulled out his stash and went to town, smoking bowl after bowl, joint after joint, until he’d reached the ceiling of how high he could get.

…And then he reached for the decanter of whiskey in the kitchen. Just to be sure.

•••

It was around noon when Violet finally willed herself to stop stalling at Sephora, binge shopping her emotions away. Carrying two of the largest black and white striped bags she’d ever seen, she unlocked the door to the suite and was immediately hit with the smell of weed and takeout.

“Jesus,” she whispered as she spotted Dieter passed out on the sectional, a cup of whiskey in one hand and a piece of pizza on his bare stomach. “Dieter?”

She was surprised he didn’t wake up at the sound of his name being called, her voice far from quiet. “Dieter? Hello? Are you fucking alive?”

Still, no movement from the actor. In a last bid attempt at waking him without having to go over and touch him, Violet walked over to her bedroom door, opening it before slamming it closed again.

Dieter sprang to life, breathing in a quick inhale through his nose as he looked over the rim of his sunglasses at her. Violet stood with a disappointed look on her face, arms crossed over her chest.

“Could you slam it any louder? I’m not sure they heard you in Brooklyn.” Dieter grumbled as his headache set back in, the high now only making him exhausted. He peeled the piece of pizza off his stomach and slapped it down on top of the box, eyes remaining in a squint even with his sunglasses shielding most of the light.

“This is disgusting, Dieter.” Violet felt obligated to help sort this mess out—literally, at least. With a suck of her teeth, she set down her bags and walked into the kitchen, pulling out a black trash bag and carrying it over to the living room.

“You don’t have to clean up my mess,” Dieter sighed and reached for the bag but she withheld it, this stern, almost warning glare on her face the entire time. Dieter watched as she shoved the pizza box into the bag last, tying it up and leaving it by the door.

Surprisingly, Violet didn’t stop there. No, she needed it to be spotless.

“You gonna talk or just pretend like nothing happened?” Dieter probed as Violet wiped down the coffee table with disinfectant wipes, the smell of citrus slowly replacing the smell of weed and marinera sauce. When he was met with no response, he chuckled and shook his head. “Look, I’ll start. I shouldn’t have been doing that in our common area—“

“Can you lift that?” She pointed to a book on the coffee table, her hand holding the wipe waiting next to it. Dieter scoffed as he lifted the book, Violet wiping over it a few times before he set it back down again.

“Violet, I’m trying to apologize,” he reasoned, eyes glued to her every feature to try and get a read on her but she was too fucking good at hiding behind a mask.

“You don’t need to apologize, Dieter. Shit happens.” Violet tossed the used wipes into the trash bag before grabbing one of his joints and leaving him alone to go smoke on the balcony. Dieter didn’t last long before he got up and walked outside to join her, the sound of the glass door sliding open making Violet groan. “Dieter, I’m begging—“

“I shouldn’t have fucked someone else—“ Violet quirked an eyebrow at him, causing him to panic and blurt out an unplanned second half of the sentence. “…in our common area.”

“Right. Whatever. Fuck who you want, where you want, Dieter.” Violet chuckled, rolling her eyes as she handed the joint over to him. “I’m going out.”

“Or you could stay and we could talk about things. I once had an overpriced therapist tell me that’s important in relationships!” Dieter called out but Violet pretended not to hear him, simply grabbing her purse and leaving the suite without another word. Dieter let his eyes close as the door thumped closed, sighing as he stood alone on the balcony with a half-smoked joint in hand. “Way to fucking go, Bravo.”

•••

“So…Dieter Bravo, huh?” Sam, one of Violet’s childhood friends and current broadway actress sat on the opposite side of her sofa, Violet groaning at the mention of the man she was attempting to avoid. “How the hell’d that happen?”

“It’s not…not for real,” she confessed, knowing that if there were only one person in this world she could trust, it would be Sam. “Just until my movie comes out and his reputation is salvaged.”

“That’s Hollywood, baby!” Sam chuckled as she stood up and walked into her kitchen, the small studio layout allowing Violet to continue the conversation.

“Sometimes I feel like I should’ve never left New York. Should’ve stayed here and did theater with you. Maybe then I’d be happier—“

“You’re not sad because of where you live, babe. You’re sad because of how you’re living.” She brought back two glasses of wine, handing one to Violet before sitting down. “At some point you’re going to break, and this pretty little mask you’ve made for yourself is gonna crack. It’s too much pressure for a person to pretend to be as perfect as you try to be constantly.”

“Yes,” she sighed, chuckling at her own problems. “It’s fucking exhausting. Every single part of it. And what fucking sucks is that for the first time in so fucking long, I started to feel like maybe someone understood me. And then I woke up to the fucker getting head in the kitchen.”

“What?” She gasped and nearly choked on her wine, placing her hand over her heart. “You didn’t tell me about that!”

“Yeah, I’ve been actively trying to avoid talking about myself, Samantha.” Violet chuckled and shrugged, looking off to the side as she tried to word herself right. “I have feelings for Dieter fucking Bravo. I can admit that to you because I know you won’t judge me.”

“I’m more so curious as to what’s drawing you in? I mean, a handsome face only goes so far.”

“Exactly! That’s—yes!” Violet shouted enthusiastically, laughing at her theatrics as she stood up with her wine glass in hand. “He’s a fucking little raccoon of a man and I want to fuck him so bad. None of it makes sense. The fucker is nice to me sometimes. That’s it. No other redeemable qualities besides his dick.”

“Is it nice?” Sam asked, raising her eyebrows with a grin. Violet groaned loudly and flopped back down onto the sofa.

“So nice. It’s huge. Although, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll be good, right?” Violet asked with a bit of hopefulness in her tone, earning another laugh from her friend.

“Right. It could be huge and mouthwatering and absolutely terrible at pleasing you. That’s totally possible.” Violet squinted at her as Sam weighed her head to the side and took a sip of her wine. “Or it could be the best dick you’ll ever have.”

“Fuck you. No. Definitely not.” Violet frowned as she faced forward, her mind now filled with images of his cock coming all over the tile of their kitchen floor. “Well—maybe.”

•••

“Hey,” Dieter practically jumped onto his feet as Violet walked into the suite around 8 p.m., a timid smile on his face as he eyed her carefully.

“‘Sup,” Violet nodded her head at him casually as she grabbed the untouched shopping bags from Sephora and carried them into her room without another word.

“Sup?” Dieter repeated with an irritated scrunch of his face, looking around the room at nobody with his palms up in disbelief. “Fuck it. She’s done, then so am I.”

Dieter had longed to take a line of the powdery white substance sitting in his coat pocket all day long, but out of desire to be better for her, he’d refrained. But now that it was as clear as day that Violet was through with even engaging with him as an acquaintance, he had nothing to abstain for.

Walking into his bedroom, he let the door slam as he reached into his coat pocket and set out three neat lines for himself in the bathroom, taking in a deep breath before snorting them off the countertop.

It didn’t take long for Dieter’s pity party to turn into an actual party—of one.

Dieter spun around in his bedroom to Madonna’s hit single, “Express Yourself”, the song blaring on the hotel’s impressive speaker system. Dieter was as high as a kite, holding a glass of whiskey in one hand that was surely spilling everywhere but he didn’t care.

“Come on, girls! Do you believe in love? 'Cause I've got something to say about it. And it goes something like this,” Dieter shouted along to the intro, twirling around the room, using the belt to his robe as a boa of sorts. “Don't go for second best, baby. Put your love to the test. You know, you know you've got to make him express how he feels and maybe then you'll know your love is real.”

Violet was drunk when she got back to the hotel, Dieter’s attempt at conversation squashed immediately over the simple fact that she couldn’t form a coherent sentence.

She tried to take her mind off both her drunken state and her desire to weep by smoking a little bit more and practicing some of the yoga she once made a resolution to do every single day but hadn’t attempted since the second week of January.

Starting off slow, she tried to tap into her spirituality, or what little remained of it, taking mindful breaths, trying to tune out the blaring 90’s pop from the other side of the suite. All her efforts to find peace and meditation were futile, Dieter’s pitchy singing now doubling the volume of the music.

Violet let out a deep, guttural groan at his antics, the mask slipping finally and exposing the tangled web of emotions beneath it. With a huff and a determined stare, Violet left her bedroom and stomped over to his, pounding on the door.

“Bravo!” She called over the blaring music, fist beating on the door until it opened.

Dieter stood there with a wide grin, his sunglasses tipped low on his nose. He was wearing just a pair of boxers underneath his fluffy, brown coat. Seeing him so at ease ignited something inside her—anger seemed too soft of a word to use for the way her skin burned with irritation, both at him and herself.

“Hi—“

“You are the most selfish, insufferable, dirty little man I have ever had the punishment of having to be around! All you do is think of yourself and do whatever you want, not giving a shit about anybody else! I wish I could properly articulate how fucking irritating you are, Dieter!” Violet screamed over “Groove Is In The Heart”, Dieter staring blankly at her with parted lips and glassy eyes. “God, and you just stand there and look so fucking stupid! Are you even fucking listening?”

“Yeah—“

“Ugh, I hate your smug little fucking voice and—“ She eyed him up, her anger quickly beginning to feel like arousal as she scanned the exposed skin of his torso, or perhaps her self-control had just snapped completely and she was now fully at the mercy of every one of her irresponsible desires. “Fuck it.”

Dieter grunted as Violet’s body clashed with his, her lips kissing his searingly as she walked him backwards to the armchair in the corner of his bedroom. Her tongue battled with his for dominance as she straddled his lap, Dieter’s hands frozen in place as his brain short-circuited.

“God, you’re so fucking frustrating. Just touch me,” Violet grabbed his hands and placed them on her hips, Dieter’s grip tightening as he forced himself of his disbelief and back into the moment.

Violet Apollo was sitting on his lap, kissing him, biting him, moaning for him. No matter how many times he imagined his first time with her, he never imagined her so…animalistic.

He always figured she’d be soft, gentle, romantic, but here she was tugging on his lip so hard he was whimpering for her, her hips grinding down against his lap. When she took her top off, unhooked her bra and revealed herself to him, he swore he’d reached heaven—but of course, something had to ruin it.

“Uh,” Violet ran her hand over his lap and furrowed her brows, not feeling anything hard at all no matter how hard she searched.

She’d seen his cock, if it was hard, she wouldn’t have even needed to reach for it to know it was there.

“Well that’s humbling,” she chuckled at herself and quickly scrambled off his lap, avoiding his eyes as she gathered her bra and top before rushing out of the room.

Violet couldn’t help but feel sickeningly embarrassed, quickly turning the lock on her bedroom door before she rushed into the shower still in her skirt and tights. The hot water rained down on her as she sobbed on the floor, her knees tucked close to her chest.

She’d finally put herself out there, exposing more of herself to him than she ever thought she would. And he couldn’t have been less into it, apparently.

Althroughout her childhood, adolescence, and even early adulthood, Violet struggled with the extra plushness she carried around her stomach—so much so that it wasn’t until she was twenty-three that she allowed a partner to see her naked with the lights on.

Violet knew it wasn’t Dieter’s fault that he wasn’t attracted to her, and she tried to reason with herself that he had every right to like the supermodel build rather than her curvy one, but no matter how many times she repeated it in her head, she couldn’t help the sting in her heart from the rejection.

Perhaps she read it all wrong between them, and all the kisses and flirting and long conversations were simply just something to do for him. Something to keep him from getting bored. Or, more depressing, maybe he was only attracted to her with her clothes on? Perhaps he hadn’t realized how curvy she was, and now that he’d seen it, he changed his mind?

Quickly shaking her head to clear her mind of her intrusive thoughts, she took a shaky but deep breath, gathering her composure. She stood up and peeled off her wet clothes, letting them slap against the floor of the shower before carrying on like normal, washing her hair and shaving her legs like nothing had ever happened at all. The mask was back on, and after tonight, it would likely never come off again.

•••

Dieter was left frozen and speechless, staying still long after he’d watched her run off to her bedroom and lock the door behind her, the sound of his 90’s dance playlist blaring in the background mostly washing away her sobs, but he could still hear them clear enough to ache for her.

Never in his life had he not been able to get it up. No matter the amount he had to drink, the amount of substances in his system, nothing had ever prevented him from performing. So why now?

He knew the answer, and god, did he wish he was simply just an old man with erectile dysfunction. His life would be a whole lot easier if that was the case, but of course, it wasn’t.

Dieter knew that the reason he couldn’t get hard for her was because he was panicking. Panicking because it was finally happening for them. Panicking because he was high during it. Panicking because he wasn’t ready like he wanted to be for her when they finally crossed that line. Panicking because he didn’t want to lose her over something as fucking silly as sex.

A part of him wanted to go over and apologize, try to explain himself to her, but the thought of confessing even a single one of those fears to her made him freeze all over again. He couldn’t open up, at least not now, not in this state of mind.

Dieter sat there, staring blankly ahead through his opened door and at her closed one, his music still playing, his body not having moved an inch, wondering why the fuck he couldn’t just be easy to love like everyone else seemed to be. He craved destruction too much, and feared anything too good to be true, preferring to ruin it before it could ruin him.

He’d gone so long without having to face the reality of his brokenness, but never in his life had he longed to love someone properly like this. It consumed him—his inadequacy mixing with his yearning. He wanted her, but every time he looked into her pretty brown eyes, he could only see all the reasons he shouldn’t have her.

In an act of determination, and a rare show of self-care and responsibility, Dieter reached for his phone and searched through his contacts until he found the number to his old therapist, the only one that he felt treated him like a human rather than a star.

DB: Need to make an appointment. I think I’m getting bad again.

Dr. Bradford: Hello, Dieter. I’m glad you reached out. Let’s set up a call tomorrow afternoon and you can tell me more about it.

DB: Sounds good, doc.

DB: Do I need to be sober?

Dr. Bradford: Yes, Dieter. Have a good night.

DB: Fine.

Even if he wasn’t good enough for her right now, it didn’t mean it needed to stay that way. And until he got better, Dieter vowed to try and salvage his friendship with her. Starting in the morning.

Right now he needed to cry in the shower to some Whitney Houston.

•••

dieter taglist: @browneyes-issac @wildemaven @laureliciousdefinition @trinkets01 @paulalikestuff @toomanystoriessolittletime @alwayslurkinginthebackground @pastelnap @fishingforpike @littlemisspascal @pedropascalsx (please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!)

[zorosq]

no more ; portgas d. ace

↻ pure angst, mention of death, mention of blood, ace is depressed, cussing, grammatical error

↻ pairing ↬ ace x gn!reader!

@sarahhhh-h asked: hello maira!! how was your day? keep smiling okayyy!

em.... are you accepting requests at this time? can i request a story where ace is sad over his s/o's death?

Well, I don't really like being sad, but for some reason I really like Angst's stories 😔

... and have a good day and always be happy, my love💓🔥

a/n we’re opposites then 😭 i fkg hate angst but i do love hurting people sometimes- damn thats kinda evil ngl... but i hope you have a very nice day! i just had a breakdown last night but thank you for asking <3 idk if this is angsty enough but happy reading

this sets before ace left to find bb btw 

his eyes widened as he saw your body falling to the ground with a loud thud. the blood that covers almost all over your body ― it was your blood. he ran as fast as he could, pulling your lifeless body in his arms. “no, no, no... baby, please... wake up,” he whimpered.

“ace, we gotta go! let’s go now!” the 1st division commander said. but he wouldn’t move an inch. marco grits his teeth, also feeling the pain from your lost. “i’m sorry, y/n,” he said before grabbing ace by the arm and pulling him away from your body by force.

.

his gaze never leaving the sky while reminiscing the memories he had made with you. your smile, your laugh, your voice and your face. would he still be able to remember it all?

do you hate him for leaving your body behind? all of his questions were left unanswered. why was it? you weren’t there anymore to answer him all these questions. 

he still had a lot to tell you. why did you have to go so early? you still had a lot to discover together with ace. so why did you leave him?

he continued on and on with all these millions of questions that is left unanswered. blaming himself back and forth. he wanted to hear for one last time.

but you weren’t there. 

he never stepped into your room anymore after your death ― and your death still sounded odd to his ears. you were really gone. usually, you would’ve been here beside him, gazing at the stars together. 

your absence was like a void in his heart. your smile always made him smile. your happiness was like his happiness. when you’re sad, he followed suit. but now that you’re not here, his emotions were a mess.

every time someone called for him to go eat, he snapped at them. it’s not like he didn’t actually eat, he did of course. he just didn’t know how to control his feelings anymore.

he wanted to scream, blame someone for your death. his heart just aches every night that he cried out for you. he wanted to cradle your body again ― tell you how sorry he was for doing a poor job at protecting you and also for leaving you behind.

but all these blames don’t matter, do they? you are no more.

[dailyreverie]

Hey Hun,

For your fall prompts can I get :

26.Getting caught in autumn showers - with Poe ☺️

Xx

Storm

A/N: Wow okay... this turned out a bit angsty lol. Friends to lovers to enemies to whatever this is. Thank you so much for your request!! I really hope you like it!

26. Getting caught in autumn showers

🎃 REQUEST YOUR FALL PROMPT 🍂

Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader

Word count: 1.75k

Warnings: Poe is kind of an f-boy, reader and Poe are f-buddies, a few swear words. Mentions to having sex so 18+ only please!

The sky rumbles with yet another thunder that echoes around your shelter. You can feel the sound in your chest, sending vibrations all over your limbs as it resonates through the forest that displays in front of you. It should be beautiful. Should, because it came with no warning in the middle of a mission on what seems to be the middle of nowhere, and you never expected to be soaking wet running to a cave, waiting for your Commander to get back from wherever he went to look for a more decent shelter.

Your eyes can't help but get captivated by the hypnotizing rain that extends for endless miles, with your knees against your chest and your chin resting on them, and the BB droid next to you seems to be as captivated by it as you are. The only thing that brings you both out of the rain is the movement of the bushes at the side of the cave, revealing a soaked Commander Dameron with a cape that did little to nothing to cover him from the rain.

"I'm back." He announces, shaking off the water from his hair. Yours and the droid's heads turn at him at the same time, and the comically in-sync movement makes the pilot chuckle.

"Found anything?" You ask, looking at him as he tries to get rid of the water that clings to his body.

"Nothing for miles," He states, unzipping his pilot suit. "And it started to rain even harder, I had to get back." Poe, a name that feels as private as your situation ever was, looks around the setup you had made around the cave, spotting your orange suit hanging from a rock close to the small fire you had built. "Do you mind?" His arms are already slipping out of the suit when he asks, the fabric clinging to his skin from the rain that it caught.

You can only shake your head, keeping your eyes from roaming down his arms. It is an image you are too familiar with: Poe Dameron stripping off his pilot suit in front of you, except those moments had been less cold, with less rain, and with his body way closer to you.

You wonder what made him ask this time if you mind him removing his clothes in front of you, since he has done it many times before. A thunder brings you back to reality and away from the way his back muscles glisten with rain as he removes the suit. It has also been a long time since you last were together, which is only making this situation harder than the rain outside - to you, at least.

"What even is with this rain?" Poe complains as he sits next to you, eyebrows furrowed and his eyes exploring the sky. That's a sight you can't keep your eyes away from, his curls dropping to his face and his strong jawline on display as he looks up. Such a cliche you are, hooking up with your Commander only to catch feelings for him after the nights you shared.

"This side of the planet is going through its fall." Your voice is small when you answer. "If the weather is anything like the one I had back home, I'm guessing the rain won't stop until the morning."

"So we are stuck then." He looks at you, not even with mischief or with lust, he only turns his head to you, and that's enough for your breath to catch in your throat as his brown eyes pull you into their depth. That's why you stopped the whole hook-up thing, because that was all he wanted while your feelings seemed to keep getting stronger every time you found yourself in his quarters, wrapped in his arms as he explored your body with a passion you had never experienced before.

"I guess we are." You sigh. Being stuck in a cave with Poe seemed like a bad joke from the Maker, like something you would have begged to happen just a couple of months ago, but that felt like your worst nightmare now.

Silence surrounds you for a couple of minutes, the sounds of rain soothing your nerves and letting you get lost in it again.

"I think I've never heard you talk about your home before." You both were not used to talking, that was why. Poe breaks the silence curious to hear more about you or maybe looking for an excuse to make the situation less awkward. You can only hope for the second one and hope he is at least a little bit as uncomfortable as you are.

"It feels like I left such a long time ago it barely feels like home anymore." You are aware of how sharp your words sound, not looking to expand your answer or to engage in conversation, and you wonder if he notices at all how you can't even look at him anymore. Poe is a clever guy, you assume he does.

"Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes." A shrug and a frown, that's all he gets.

He's not at fault for you catching feelings for him, of course, but he's at fault for not having those same feelings for you, for only playing around, for running away from something that could be good.

You can feel his gaze on you, feeling how his eyes are analyzing your every reaction and your every attempt at blocking him out; you try focusing on the rain, but his stare is mimicking the storm that pours right in front of you. "Why did you stop talking to me?"

You turn to look at him so fast you might get whiplash. "What?" You ask incredulously, surprised at his question.

"All those weeks ago, you just stopped talking to me." Poe's voice is calm, but his words somehow manage to pierce every fiber of your body, forming a rage under your skin.

Your feet turn you around, pulling you up to stand only to sit a few feet further into the cave. "I don't know what you mean."

"Bullshit." Poe scoffs. "There's nowhere to hide in here, don't even bother trying."

You turn back at his sarcastic voice, looking at him in disbelief. You had been hiding from him, that much is true, but you never expected him to notice, much less to care about it. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means." The way Poe looks at you, with a shake of his head and a total lack of control over his frustrated expression, shows you how annoyed he is. "What's your excuse now? You've got somewhere else to be? 'Cause if you haven't noticed, we are caught in a storm."

"I'm not hiding from you, Poe." You snap back at him, hoping for a better explanation of your sudden disappearance to come out from somewhere. He expects it too, you see it in the way he looks at you.

"Okay, then tell me why we are not speaking to each other anymore." Thunder crashes against the clouds at the same time he demands an answer from you, with the same intensity that your heart is hitting against your chest. Poe is not backing down, you know him, he will not let you get away without an answer.

"I can't do this right now."

"Oh, alright," He sighs, exasperated. "Seeming you are so busy right now let's just wait until you are done, maybe then I'll find out why not only my best pilot, but one of my closest friends decided to cut me out of their lives-"

"Your closest friend? I was merely a booty call for you, Poe! I was for months! And now you claim to be one of my closest friends-" The rain hitting the rock walls that surround you seems to gain intensity at the same time your argument does.

"What the hell are you-? A booty call? You were never that for me!" His eyebrows furrow in the middle, trying to make sense of your words.

"Right, because we were doing so much more than just having sex." You can't help but laugh at yourself.

"You think I only see you as a sex tool or something? I'm not an asshole, I know you have feelings and-"

"Yes, Poe! I have feelings!" The way your voice increases its strength sends him aback, looking at you with his eyes wide open as you are debating whether to continue speaking or not. But what do you have to lose? Poe? He is standing right in front of you, right before your grasp, yet you feel like you have already lost him. "I have feelings for you." Every word comes out slowly from your mouth.

For once, Poe is speechless. He looks at you as he tries to make sense of what you just said, with raindrops dripping from his curls onto his face.

You used to love rain back home, those showers that send you into a deep sleep; but the way it looks on him, so naturally beautiful while you are collapsing inside, is only a reminder of what storms are actually like: rough, disastrous, messy, and loud. And that's what Poe Dameron is too.

"Fuck it," You begin to walk towards the exit of the cave, Poe still looking at you in shock. "I'll spend the night at the ship."

His hand grabs your wrist before you step outside. As you meet his face, you see him trying to form words, any kind, anything.

"Wait, just- it's freezing outside. It's fall, you said so yourself, it's only going to get colder at night." His voice is softer than before, trying to calm the whole situation down. "Let's just talk about it."

"Talk?" You ask unconvinced, but his eyes look for yours even when you try to escape, looking down only to find his warm hand still holding your wrist. "What's there to talk, Poe?"

"This!" He says desperately, his eyes frantic, looking straight at you. "Our situation, and what you just said! We can't just leave it like that."

"Do you have feelings for me?" You know the answer already, or at least you think you do because when his eyes settle on you and words die in his throat you are suddenly not so sure.

"I- I don't-" Poe stutters.

You smile defeated, releasing your wrist from his grip.

Right. A storm. Storms don't have feelings, they just pour down on you.

🍂🍂🍂

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

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[idontgiveaflyinggrayson69]

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69​ & KO / @thirteenisles​

Tagging: @denis-scorianov​ @texanstarslove​ @canadianheaters​ @besthockeyfics​ @chara-hugs​ @notaccurateornice​ @comphybiscuit​ @nazdaddy​ @princessphilly​ @2manytabsopen​ @brenansday99 @cherrylita​ @konecny-s​ @antoineroussel​ @barzzal​ @nhlficrecs​ @matbaerzal​ @bb-nhlqueen7 @tysonsjosty​ @gravesgravytrain @boqvistsbabe​ @softboybarzal​ @calgarycanuck​ @sorryjustafangirl​ @heatherawoowoo​ @laurenairay​ @luvsherleafs​

Relationship: Vampire!Ryan Graves x Fem!Reader

Summary: There was nothing romantic about falling for a human. But Ryan fell for you anyway. 

Word Count: 38k

Warnings: Major character injury. Major character death (happy ending I promise). Assault (kinda? Adding it to be safe). Blood in general (including drinking). Mentioned suicide. Mentioned death to secondary & background characters (they’re vampires okay). Alcohol. Implied sex. 

Disclaimer: This is literally dark and angsty (but with a happy ending) so please if that makes you uncomfortable just keep scrolling. If you want details to what the warnings are referring to before you read, please send me a message/ask and I’ll happily explain everything so nothing comes as a surprise and you can decide if this is something you can safely read! 

Comments: KO and I have spent literal hours talking about vampire!Ryan and honestly, probably a good chunk of this story was straight out of our texts. KO also came up with a lot of ideas for this fic and beta’d it! It wouldn’t be here without you, KO! Ily!!! Anyways, I really hope you all enjoy actual vampire Ryan Graves!

Link to playlist

(c) nat g. 2021 // do not repost, do not claim as your own

Ryan could count on one hand the number of times the world stood still for him, and seeing you sitting on a park bench with a book on your lap was one of them.

If he could sleep, he would have sworn he was dreaming. But he couldn’t sleep, so it couldn’t be a dream, or a nightmare. He had fed the day before, but he wasn’t convinced he wasn’t hallucinating out of hunger.

“Mary?” He whispered, his voice just loud enough to reach you.

You couldn’t be her. You couldn’t. Whatever he was experiencing just had to be the latest punishment the universe had in store for him for existing outside the bounds of nature. Still, he couldn’t pull his eyes away, praying to whatever cruel God that cursed him to exist in a state of decay that what he was seeing was real.

You couldn’t describe it, but the voice seemed almost familiar, as if you had heard it before but you couldn’t place where. You glanced up and closed your book, surprised to find that he was looking at you. You were positive you had never met him before, his tall figure and hair long enough to be pulled back into a bun unfamiliar to you, but he was looking at you like he knew you. You glanced over your shoulder, half expecting to see some woman behind you, but there was no one. He was looking at you.

“I’m sorry?” You replied, snapping him out of his trance.

You weren’t her. How could you be? It had been nearly two centuries since he saw her, it would be impossible for you to be her. No matter how much he wanted you to be her, your eyes said it all. They weren’t hers.

“No, it’s—I’m sorry,” he shook his head, his voice weak with defeat. He had more time than any human would to grieve and accept what happened but seeing you and the uncanny similarities between you and her reopened wounds he thought had healed long ago. “I thought you were somebody else,” he explained, not being able to pull his eyes away from you no matter how much it hurt him.

“No need to apologize,” you told him before introducing yourself and Ryan repeated your name back to you. It was foreign to him, and it stuck to his tongue as he struggled to match your name to your face.

“Ryan,” he introduced, not that he came any closer, using the space between you as a buffer. “I’m sorry for bothering you, I’ll let you get back to your book.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled and if Ryan could breathe, his breath would have caught in his throat. You had a beautiful smile. “Honest mistake.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, doing his best to return your smile, but it never reached his eyes. His eyes were dark, and they almost seemed empty, as if he had seen something that aged him beyond his years.

But, as unfamiliar as he was, there was something about him that gave you an odd sense of déjà vu and that pulled you in.

Ryan held your eyes for anther moment before he shook his head. As weird as it was seeing you, seeing her, it didn’t matter because it wasn’t like he was going to see you again. He had walked this earth far longer than he wanted to and he had never met anyone who looked like the people from his past life, so, as weird and painful as this was, he told himself it was a one time thing, just the universe looking for a new and creative way to punish him for his existence.

“Enjoy the book,” he told you, taking half a step back. “It’s one of my favourites.”

His words took you off guard and you glanced down at your copy of the Great Gatsby. You opened your mouth to comment on how foolish it was for Gatsby to still be devoted to Daisy, but when you looked back up, he was already walking away, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. You closed your mouth, your heart dropping as you watched him continue down the path. It was hard to lose him, his height making him stick out from the others.

You had just met, didn’t even know anything about him other than his first name and that he liked the Great Gatsby, but it felt wrong to watch him walk away and you couldn’t pull your eyes away from him until he was out of sight. You took a shaky breath and glanced back at the cover of your book before leaning back against the bench. You couldn’t explain why he had such an effect on you, after all, you knew him for all of five minutes, but your chest was tight with the realization that you would probably never see him again.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath before you put your book into your bag. The breeze you first found refreshing suddenly felt cold and you pulled your jacket closer as you stood. Part of you wanted to walk in Ryan’s direction, see if by some twist of fate, you would run into him again, but you shook your head and started off in the direction home, doing your best to shake that déjà vu.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about him for the rest of the night, and even while you laid in bed that night, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had met him before. No matter how hard you thought, you couldn’t remember him, but that familiarity ate at you until you finally fell asleep.

Across the city, Ryan wasn’t so lucky.

He hadn’t been blessed with the ability to sleep his thoughts away in two hundred years. Instead, he leaned against the window of his penthouse overlooking the city, replaying your interaction over and over again. He had too many questions but not a single answer and no way to escape his racing thoughts.

It didn’t matter that he wasn’t going to see you again, he knew he’d be thinking about you for years. He knew you were out there somewhere doing something, but he didn’t know where and he didn’t know what. He didn’t know if your favourite flower was forgetmenots or if you preferred gold to silver. He didn’t know if you shared her strongmindedness or her kindness. He didn’t know anything but your name and that you looked like her. And that was going to eat at him for a very, very long time.

But, what Ryan didn’t anticipate was that he did see you again.

Barely two months later, he ran into you again. If once was an anomaly, Ryan told himself that twice was a coincidence.

Just like in the park, Ryan had to do a double take, his world stilling once again when he caught a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye, but sure enough, it was you. He knew your face in life and in death and there was no mistaking it through the restaurant window. You were talking to someone across from you, but Ryan didn’t bother looking, unable to pull his eyes away from you. The people on the sidewalk grumbled as they walked around him, his body blocking the sidewalk, but it didn’t register as he looked at you.

You were just as beautiful as the first time he met you, maybe more so as he watched you laugh, your eyes lighting up at whatever your friend said.

He wanted to make you smile, make you laugh, make you happy. He wanted to talk to you again, but he didn’t know what would hurt more, walking away or learning just how different you were from who he wanted you to be. You had her face, but you didn’t have her eyes or her voice. You weren’t her; you never were. No matter how much he wanted you to be.

He had seen a lot in his years, but being forced to see her face out in the world, happy, without him was a new kind of torture that left a deep ache in his hollow chest.

Maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t breathe because he didn’t have to catch his breath as he finally pulled his eyes away from you. And, just like the last time, Ryan walked away. What else was there for him to do? You were your own person with your own life and he wasn’t going to feed you pomegranate seeds and subject you to the torment of his existence so he could play pretend.

Ryan was used to feeling cold, not having warm blood or a beating heart would do that. But he felt colder every step he took away from the restaurant. He pulled his coat closer, but it didn’t help, the cold had settled in his bones.

The universe was cruel, that was nothing new, but this? This was a new kind anguish. There was just no other way to describe it.

He did his best to continue on, to ignore that he met you, but it was easier said than done and you stayed on his mind in one way or another until he ran into you for a third time.

Two times Ryan could ignore, telling himself that it was a coincidence. But three times? Ryan couldn’t ignore three times.

Denver wasn’t the biggest city he had lived in in his obnoxiously long life, but it was still big enough that running into you three times in four months couldn’t be ignored.

The first two times he told himself that it was the universe punishing him for being a monster and outliving everyone he loved (as if that wasn’t punishment enough). But, watching you run your finger over the spines of a local book shop, Ryan wondered if he wasn’t being punished, but given a second chance to do things right.

He shadowed you at first, keeping a few rows between you, and you never picked him up, far more interested in the different books than the other people in the shop but you were the only thing he cared about.

His sight was better than others and he laughed when you picked up a copy of Dracula.

Your heart fluttered at the sound and for whatever reason, you already knew who the laugh belonged to. Your suspicions were confirmed when you looked over your shoulder and found unfamiliar yet familiar dark eyes.

“Do you have a problem with Dracula?” You asked.

“I do actually,” he told you. “Stoker got it all wrong. And if you’re going to read an early science fiction monster novel, I’d recommend Frankenstein. Shelley did a wonderful job conceptualizing emotion and alienation.”

“Duly noted,” you replied, but couldn’t bring yourself to put the book down. You’ve never been drawn to horror or monsters, but something about the red cover was calling you. “You’ve read a lot of classics, huh?” You asked.

“One or two,” he smiled, walking around the shelf to extend his hand to you. “I don’t believe we got a proper introduction last time.”

You moved the book to your other hand so you could shake his. His skin was cool to the touch and his hand dwarfed yours, but it made your chest feel warm. “No, I believe someone ran off before we got that chance,” you laughed.

“Yeah…” He forced a chuckle and stuffed his hands back into his pockets. “Sorry about that, I promise it isn’t a habit of mine.”

“But commenting on my choice of book is?” You were never one to flirt, but just like last time, there was something about him pulling you in. Maybe it was the tall, dark and handsome thing he had going on, maybe it was the fact he was well read unlike other men your age, or maybe it was something else you just couldn’t put your finger on.

Ryan genuinely smiled as he took half a step back, “Gatsby to Dracula is quite the step down, so I had to step in and save you.”

You bit your lip to contain your smile. “Well, then, what should I read next?” You propositioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

He glanced at the shelf and gently pulled Frankenstein out and handed it to you and you took it without question. “Well, what are you looking for?” He asked.

“You tell me,” you replied and Ryan’s smile softened as he nodded before glancing around the store. He knew exactly what to give you, it was just a matter of whether the store had a copy.

“Okay,” he agreed and you followed him, the copy of Dracula still in your hand, as he scanned the shelves hoping that they had the book he wanted.

Thankfully, they did and he gently took the book off the shelf and handed it to you. “The Age of Innocence?” You read aloud before looking up at him.

“Trust me,” he told you with a smile.

“Okay,” you nodded before pausing. “Does this mean that I get to give you a recommendation now?”

“Fair is fair,” he agreed

It was clear that he knew his way around the classics, so you decided to give him something different, something maybe he wouldn’t have thought to read on his own. You thought about it for a moment before walking over to the thriller section. You wanted your choice for Ryan to make a statement and you had just the book in mind.

You ran your finger over the spines of the R authors until you found the one you were after and pulled it from the shelf, handing it over to him with a smile. “Moon of the Crusted Snow?” He read the title.

Ryan had read thousands of books in his life, countless pages keeping him company in the lonely nights. But he hadn’t even heard of this one.

“It’s good, I promise,” you told him.

He nodded, pulling his eyes back up to yours, “I’m sure it is.”

You looked down at the books in your arms, but before you could say anything, Ryan spoke up. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee?” He asked, referring to the attached coffee shop. Honestly, coffee wasn’t exactly his drink of choice, but he’d happily swallow it back if it meant more time with you.

Time… Time was a fickle thing. There was never enough time or it was never the right time, and if there was anything Ryan learned in his long life, it was to never take a moment for granted because once it was gone, you could never get it back. He had walked away from you twice, but you kept showing back up in his life so he wasn’t about to make it a third.

You weren’t her, that was abundantly clear, but you were pulling him in all the same. Talking to you was so easy and for the first time in a long, long time, Ryan felt warm. Even if just for a few moments, Ryan was able to forget who and what he was.

“I would love that,” you told him honestly.

You had read a lot of books, some would say too many. Time and again you had read about ‘the moment’ between characters, the moment pieces fall into place, the moment everything becomes clear. You always thought that it was exaggerated, made up even. There was no way Cinderella could spend a few hours with Prince Charming and fall irreversibly in love.

But then there was Ryan.

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since you met him at the park. You spent multiple hours in bed flipping between Instagram accounts hoping to find him but you never did and it killed you because you couldn’t shake that warmth and déjà vu that he gave you.

And those feelings only got stronger since running into him again.

Maybe it wasn’t in this lifetime, but you were sure that you had loved him before.

“Perfect,” Ryan smiled and extended his hand out to you. “Let me carry your books for you?”

His offer made your heart flutter and you passed your small pile of books to him with a smile, “thank you.”

“Of course,” he nodded, easily holding the books in one hand. He wanted to use his free hand to hold yours or rest it on your lower back, but he knew that would be too much and he didn’t want to scare you off. He guided you to the cashier and you reached for your pocket as he put the books down on the counter, but Ryan pulled his wallet out. You opened your mouth to argue but Ryan shook his head. “My treat,” he insisted. “After all, two of them were my suggestions.”

You wanted to argue but didn’t. “Thank you,” you told him again.

“My pleasure,” he replied honestly.

He had the cashier put your books in separate bags, but he still carried both of them as you walked over to the coffee shop. You ordered your favourite while Ryan ordered a black coffee. Like in the bookstore, Ryan pulled his wallet out, but you beat him to it. “You bought the books, the least I can do is buy you coffee,” you told him as you pulled you card out.

Ryan held his hands up in surrender as he nodded and let you pay for the coffee. You took both of them from the barista and led Ryan over to a free table before putting his coffee in front of him. Ryan thanked you and handed you the bag with your books, which you set down beside your foot.

You had been on countless first dates and almost none of them went well. They were all awkward and they all lacked the spark you were searching for, the spark you found with Ryan. It wasn’t a first date, you had to tell yourself that, but it almost felt like more. It felt like sitting down with an old friend you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“So, do you have any interests beyond classics?” You asked him.

Ryan laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I like art and history,” he answered. “I have a degree in history.” He didn’t, but it was a good enough cover for the truth.

“Do you now?” You asked and he nodded. “Tell me something interesting then?”

Ryan paused as he thought about what he should tell you. He had lived through a lot of things, most of them not very pleasant. He needed to give you a fact that wasn’t mainstream but not horrible or related to death, something that would make you like him.

“Jeannette Rankin,” he said after a moment. “Jeannette Rankin was the first woman to hold federal office in the United States and she did this in 1916, four years before women were given the vote. And, actually, she was the only woman to vote to give the vote to women. She’s mostly remembered for being a pacifist, having voted against declaring war on Germany and being the only one to vote against declaring war on Japan following Pearl Harbour.”

His answer surprised you. You were honestly expecting some over glorified war story from the Second World War. Not that you were stereotyping, but that was usually what white men liked about history, something you didn’t necessarily understand. The start of recorded history was thousands of years ago and they picked one of the worst atrocities in human history for their area of focus? Maybe it was a test asking Ryan to tell you about history, but if it was, he passed. But maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised since women wrote both his book recommendations.

“That’s actually really interesting, I didn’t know that,” you told him and Ryan nodded.

“Not a lot do. A testament to the education system I guess,” he replied, making you laugh.

Neither of you noticed how much time was passing as you continued to talk, sips of coffee stolen between laughs. Talking to you was so easy and Ryan didn’t think he could grow tired of hearing your voice. But he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Whatever this was, a date or otherwise, you didn’t want it to end. Ryan… Ryan was warm and comforting and, as terrifying as it was to admit, Ryan felt like home.

You knew him before, you were sure of it, but you needed to know him now.

You took your time drinking your coffee, and it was only when you finished it that you realized how long the two of you had been talking for. Your heart dropped at the feeling of the empty cup and you glanced over at the barista, debating getting another coffee if it meant getting to spend more time with him.

Ryan picked up on the fall of your shoulders and the slight slip of your smile and the cold that had melted away at your presence started to seep back into his bones. He didn’t want this to end; he didn’t want to leave you, lose you.

You were both quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Could I maybe get your number?” He asked, hoping he wasn’t being too forwards. Your eyes instantly lit up and Ryan would have let out a relieved breath if he could when you nodded. He took his phone out and unlocked it before pulling his contacts up and passing his phone to you.

You typed your number and name into a new contact. You paused before adding a book emoji next to your name and handed his phone back to him. “Perfect,” he whispered before glancing down at the screen and smiling when he saw the emoji.

He didn’t hesitate to pull up messages and send you a text. “Now you have me too,” he said when you felt your phone vibrate.

“Perfect,” you echoed.

You didn’t want to go, but it was it was approaching the evening. You almost asked him to have dinner so you could spend more time getting to know him, but you decided against it. You had his number now so, hopefully, that meant you would see him again.

“I should get going,” you said with a sigh. Ryan nodded in understanding, even if he didn’t like it. “Thank you for the books, I look forwards to reading them.”

He chuckled softly, “I look forwards to hearing what you think of them.” You heart fluttered at his words and you nodded. Maybe you could use the books as an excuse to see him again. “Thank you for the coffee,” he continued. His cup was still half full and the coffee he had drunk sat like lead in his stomach, but you didn’t need to know that.

“It was my pleasure,” you smiled before standing up. You picked your empty cup up and reached for Ryan’s to throw them away but he beat you to it and asked for yours, which you hesitantly handed over before he carried both over to the trash to throw out.

You picked the bags up and extended his to him when he came back, hating how tight your chest felt at having to walk away from him. “I really enjoyed this,” you told him.

“Me too,” he replied honestly as he took the bag from you.

You smiled at his words, “I hope to hear from you soon?” You asked, hoping you weren’t the only one that felt the spark between you two.

“I promise,” he replied with a smile which loosened your chest a little. Ryan wanted to reach out and pull you to his chest to see how you fit in his arms, but he restrained himself.

He knew the feeling of dying all too well and he could describe it better than any author he had read, but watching you walk out the coffee shop door almost hurt as much as dying.

Ryan took his time walking home. He hadn’t been in a hurry in a long time and it wasn’t like he had anything to fear, after all, he was the monster at the end of the book.

He wanted to text you as soon as he got home to make sure you got home okay too, but he didn’t. That, he told himself, was too much too fast. Instead, he put the book down on the table and made his way over to the fridge to grab a bag of blood. He wasn’t hungry, having fed not that long ago, but his stomach wasn’t exactly made to drink coffee so he was hoping some blood would help settle it.

He got a glass down from the cupboard and cut the corner off the bag to fill the glass. He took his time squeezing the blood, trying to waste as little as possible before carrying it into the living room. He sipped the blood slowly as he looked out over the city and he hoped your dinner was at least better than his.

The blood did help settle his stomach and after the sun had set, he reached for the book you recommended to him. He read over the back as he settled into his favourite armchair and shrugged to himself. It wasn’t something he would have picked for himself, he preferred ‘softer’ stories, ones where he wasn’t forced to confront the monsters of the world—imaginary or otherwise—but it sounded good.

He wasn’t planning on finishing the book in one sitting, but it wasn’t like he had anything else to do while the world was asleep, so, he did. He finished the book in a couple hours and gently closed the cover over as he looked out the window, thinking everything over.

There was nothing comforting about the story, but that was its purpose. The ending was haunting, the allegories painful, but it was beautifully written and he could understand why you recommended it.

He reached for his phone to text you that he finished the book, but the 3AM time stared back at him so he put his phone back down. Normal people wouldn’t be awake right now. And normal people wouldn’t have read the book that quickly. He could text you tomorrow, and he could lie and say it took him a couple days to finish the book. Yeah, that would be a better idea.

Meanwhile, across the city, you had also started one of the books he gave you. Maybe you should have started with The Age of Innocence, but you kept being drawn back to Dracula, so you decided on Frankenstein, smiling as you thought back to Ryan’s smile in the book store.

You didn’t finish the book, but you definitely stayed up later than you would have, not wanting to put the book down, and you had to admit that Ryan was right, Shelley’s crafting of isolation and alienation made for a delightful read and her fabrication of emotion really made you feel for the monster.

You ended up finishing the book the next day, but you waited another day before texting Ryan to tell him. It was still early, but you didn’t want to ruin the connection you felt with Ryan by rushing into it.

It took two minutes for Ryan to reply and seeing his name on your lock screen probably shouldn’t have made you smile as big as you did, but no one had to know.

It was hard to not just jump into all the thoughts you had about Frankenstein, but you wanted to see him again, so you asked him to have coffee with you again to discuss the books and he happily agreed. He was anxious to see you again too.

You decided to meet that weekend since it worked best for you, and while you hated having to wait to see him, you got to get to know him a little more. Ryan didn’t stop texting you, and it wasn’t hard to find something to talk about outside of the books since you learned that you and Ryan shared a lot of interests. Everything you learned about him only made you like him more.

That connection you felt when you first met him at the park only seemed to get stronger with every text.

And with the constant texting, the time passed quickly and before you knew it, you were getting ready to meet him for that coffee date you kept telling yourself wasn’t really a date, no matter how much you wanted it to be.

You were nervous all morning and your nerves only got stronger as you headed down to the coffee shop.

Ryan was already waiting when you got there. You caught sight of his familiar bum through the window and all of your nerves melted away to a comforting warmth as you smiled to yourself before opening the door and stepping into the shop.

“Hey,” you said as you walked around him to the other side of the table and sat down and Ryan looked up with a smile. Along with his copy of the Moon of the Crusted Snow, he had two coffees sitting on the table, having remembered what you ordered last time and his thought made your heart flutter.

“Hey yourself,” he said and you pulled your copy of Frankenstein out of your bag before resting it at your feet.

��I really enjoyed the book,” you told him, lightly patting the cover. “Though, I think I’ll have to read Dracula to see if I agree with your opinion.”

Ryan laughed, the mention of Dracula not impacting the warmth he felt with you. “Or you could just trust that I’m right,” he said, his eyes shining.

“Maybe,” you replied before reaching for your cup of coffee to hide your smile.

You two easily fell into a rhythm talking about the books, what you each thought about them, what you liked, what you didn’t, particular scenes that stuck out. Like the last time you two were together, talking to him was easy, natural even. Everything he said only drew you in more.

When you were with Ryan, it felt like time stood still.

This time, when you finished your coffees, you did get a second, not wanting this time with him to end just yet. And, as much as it upset his stomach, Ryan accepted that second coffee. He’d accept anything to be with you.

You were smart and kind and imaginative and wise. You saw things in a different light than him and he valued your thoughts and interpretation and he wanted to hear more of them.

Just not about Dracula.

“I hope we can do this again sometime?” You asked as you were finishing your second coffee. It was cold by now, too caught up in your conversation with Ryan to remember it, but you still sipped at it to draw out those precious seconds with him.

He nodded, his smile faltering just a little before he replied, “or maybe we could do dinner next time?” It was a leap and he knew it, but he felt so many things he never thought he’d feel again with you and he thought, hoped, you felt them too.

“I would really like that,” you told him with a smile and Ryan’s shoulders visibly relaxed as he returned your smile.

“Perfect,” he whispered. “I will text you and we’ll make something work.”

You nodded, “It’s a date.” Ryan nodded too, restraining his urge to kiss your hand that still rested on the cover of Frankenstein.

Knowing that you were going to see him again, that you were going to go on a real date with him, made it a little easier to leave the coffee shop, but you still hated that empty feeling you got every time you weren’t with him. You always hated how authors would describe a love interest as the characters ‘other half’ because you were whole on your own, you weren’t looking for another half.

But now that you met Ryan, you could understand why they described it like that.

You were whole on your own, but Ryan was a piece you didn’t know you were missing and now that you found it, you were so aware of its absence every time you were apart.

If you texted a lot before you met for coffee, you texted more after.

It wasn’t as nice as spending time with him, but it was nice all the same. Ryan always answered your texts, no matter how late you two talked until, and whether it was about the weather or what he did that day or the cute dog he saw in the park he thought you’d like to see, you smiled when you felt your phone vibrate because you were almost always meant it would be him.

You’d never tell your friends this, but you were disappointed every time you saw their names on your screen instead of his.

And, honestly, Ryan was the same way.

His phone was never out of arm’s reach and every time it vibrated, he reached for it quicker than he needed to because it was you. And because he didn’t sleep, he was always awake when you texted him so he constantly had to restrain himself from texting back too quickly.

You two decided on Friday evening for your date and, for the first time in a long, long time, Ryan was nervous.

He had met a lot of people in his lifetime, been with more than he could count, but you… You were different. He wanted to impress you and have everything go perfectly.

He took several hours going through his closet trying to find the perfect thing to wear and messing with his hair to make it look nice. He was thankful that none of his friends had found out about you because if they saw how whipped he was, he knew he’d never live it down.

After what took way too long, Ryan decided on black trousers with a matching black suit jacket and a white button down with the first couple buttons undone, and he left his hair down, figuring that looked the most formal.

Ryan picked you up from your apartment and you tried not to be impressed with his clearly new and expensive car. Ryan never came off as rich, but now you were beginning to guess that he was, and that guess was supported considering he took you to a crazy expensive Italian restaurant you could only dream of going to.

“Reservation for Graves,” he told the hostess with a smile and you realized that he never told you his last name before. Somehow, his last name being Graves only made him hotter to you.

The hostess led you to private table in the back and you did your best to hide how amazed you really were.  

“It’s not too much, is it?” He asked after the hostess left you with the menus.

“Maybe a little,” you laughed but reached out to cover his hand. “But I like it.” Ryan nodded, hating how you pulled your hand back to look at the menu. “I assume you’ve been here before, so do you have any recommendations?” You asked.

Ryan laughed to himself, honestly having no idea what to say. “It’s all really good, I don’t think you could go wrong,” he said after a moment.

He looked down at the menu and started looking for something light that his body would be able to handle. His best option sounded like spaghetti alio e olio and he hoped that you weren’t going to judge him too hard for it. Maybe he’ll add shrimp or something to it to make it better.

You made your decision and ordered when the waitress came back and Ryan also ordered a couple appetizers, like warm bread and bruschetta, and a bottle of wine.

The date was right nice.

The food and wine were amazing, but it was the company that stole the show. Maybe it was because the times you met in the coffee shops felt like dates, maybe it was something else, but it didn’t feel like a first date, it felt like you two had done this more times than you could count.

Ryan drove you home after dinner and, like the gentleman he was, he even walked you up to your apartment. You took your time unlocking your door, not wanting the night to end. You had been on a fair share of dates, but not a single one felt as good as this one.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” you told him after unlocking your door but not opening it.

“Me too,” he whispered with a smile.

“I hope we can do this again,” you said, returning his smile.

“It would be my pleasure,” he said, gently taking your hand to kiss your knuckles, making your breath catch in your throat. “Have a good night,” he told you, gently letting go of your hand before stepping back. He gave you another smile before starting down the hall, pausing at the elevator to make sure you had gone into your apartment before hitting the button.

You closed the door behind you before leaning back against, taking a deep breath as you smiled to yourself.

Ryan… Ryan was unlike any man you had ever met.

One real date, not even a kiss, and you were completely falling for him. But you weren’t the only one falling fast.

He promised himself a long time ago that he’d never fall for a human so he’d never have to feel the pain of losing them again.

But falling for you was out of his control.

Your one date became two became four and finally—finally—on the fifth date he kissed you. Every date you hoped he’d finally kiss you and there were times you could see his eyes drop to your lips or you’d lean into him but he always pulled back.

Dating was hard for Ryan because the last time he really dated someone, it was called courting and a lot had changed between then and now. He wanted to take everything slow with you and not ruin the clear connection he had with you by rushing things, so, yeah, it took him a while to finally get the courage to kiss you.

But when he did…

Ryan was over at your place and he was helping you put the dishes away after dinner and you ran into his chest trying to get around him. It wasn’t hard, Ryan wasn’t exactly a small man and he took up a lot of room in your kitchen. You stumbled a bit and Ryan’s hands went to your hips so you didn’t fall.

“Good?” He asked with a laugh and you nodded, leaning into his touch.

Your dates had been amazing and it felt like you two had been together a lot longer than you were, but Ryan had been holding back on the physicality of the relationship and it drove you crazy in the best way, making his every touch leave a trail of fire in his wake.

“Yeah,” you breathed, letting your eyes dip to his lips. His own eyes dipped to yours and you swallowed before whispering, “can I kiss you?”

Ryan nodded, the corner of his lip twitching up before he moved one of his hands from your hip to your jaw. His touch was soft and his thumb traced over your bottom lip before he titled your head up and closed the distance between you.

The kiss was soft and chaste but perfect and you knew before he pulled back that there was no one else you wanted to kiss. You chased his lips when he pulled back, going onto your tippytoes to pull him back in for another kiss and you completely melted into it.

It was you that pulled back this time, slowly settling back down on your feet before you opened your eyes and found his looking back at you and you just knew he had you completely.

Heart and soul, he had you.

--

Some people take months to say “I love you” and years or even decades to commit the rest of their life to someone. Some people never want that kind of commitment. And some people get married after a week of knowing each other. You always thought the second group were crazy. There was no way you could know everything about someone and be so fervently in love with them that you knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with them after such a small amount of time.

You liked to play things safe, always have. You liked to know all the facts and have time to think everything through.

But all of that went out the window with Ryan.

No one made you feel half as much as Ryan did and you had only been together for a month. Yet, despite your short time together, it didn’t scare you how quickly and deeply you fell for him because being with Ryan felt right.

But, God, Ryan was falling for you just as hard.

He didn’t have to read Romeo and Juliet to know it was dangerous. You… You were beautiful and kind and human. And he was everything but.

So many authors and film makers thought the idea of a vampire falling for a human was romantic, sexy even. But that narrative omitted the absolutely anguish of it. There was nothing romantic about falling for someone you know you’ll outlive and watch die, falling for someone you know will grow and age while you stay the exact same, never changing.

It wasn’t romantic; it was painful.

But Ryan couldn’t stop himself and, honestly, he didn’t want to stop himself.

There were so many things he never thought he’d experience or feel again; so many things he was experiencing for the first time with you, and he was hopelessly and irreversibly falling for you.

Ryan said “I love you” first.

Maybe it was crazy and fast and maybe other guys would have waited to say it, but Ryan had learned a lot in his life. Most significantly, he knew how precious time was. He knew how it only took a single moment for everything to be over. So, he had to tell you. He needed you to know.

“I love you,” he whispered as he laid in your lap, letting you play with his hair. You froze, slowly moving your gaze from his hair to his eyes and beyond the soft fondness that always seemed to be there, you could see the slight fear in them. He loved you and he was terrified of losing you.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding before giving him a soft smile. “I love you, too, Ryan,” you whispered, brushing his hair away from his face.

If Ryan could breathe, he would have taken a deep, relieved breath. But instead he smiled and pushed himself up enough to kiss you. Like every kiss you two shared, Ryan poured his feelings into it, needing you to understand just how much he truly did love you.

Maybe loving you was selfish and irresponsible because you deserved someone human who could love you the way you deserved, but you loved him back and, for a few wonderful moments, nothing else mattered.

He lived in that feeling for as long as he could, and so did you. You and he were absolutely a whirlwind romance, which was great and you wouldn’t change it for the world. It didn’t matter how “fast” you were going compared to other couples because whatever you two had wasn’t like others.

Loving Ryan was the easiest thing you had ever done, almost as if you had done it before, in some other life.

But the thing about going as fast as you two were… Was that it was too easy for Ryan to get caught up with you that he neglected things he shouldn’t. Things he absolutely should not have neglected.

Ryan had his last bag of blood on Thursday before heading over to your place and while he would prefer to feed again over the weekend, he would be fine until he got back home on Monday. He’d text his supplier and arrange to pick more up on Monday. He sipped on the blood as he grabbed his phone only to realize it was dead. Okay, fine, he could text his supplier after he charged his phone at your place.

But he was so caught up in being with you that he forgot.

It wasn’t until he got back to his place Monday evening, hungry and already a little weak from not feeding that Ryan realized how much he fucked up.

He closed the fridge and then opened it again hoping that he was weaker than he thought and missed it, but nothing changed. His fridge was empty. He ran his hand over his face before grabbing his phone off the counter and he dialed his supplier’s number as he curled up on the couch.

It rang out and went to voicemail so he tried again. And again. And again until he finally picked up. “What?” His supplier asked as soon as he picked up the phone.

“Hello to you too,” Ryan chuckled. “I need blood.”

“Don’t we all,” he snapped back making Ryan rub his forehead.

“No, I need blood. I’m completely out,” he replied.

The line was quiet for a moment before his supplier responded, “it’s going to be at least a week.”

“Come on,” Ryan groaned. “You can do better than that.”

“You know how this works. You shouldn’t have gotten this low.” Ryan groaned again, but it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it. He had gone longer without it and it wasn’t like he was going to die. It was just going to be a really shitty week.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Just text me when you get it. And you’re going to have to deliver because I’m not going to be strong enough to pick it up.”

His supplier scoffed on the other side of the line, “fine, but delivery is going to cost extra.”

“Whatever,” Ryan replied. “Goodbye.” His supplier didn’t bother responding, just hung up. Ryan shook his head and let his phone fall to his chest.

He sat there for several long hours and when the sun started to rise the next day, he texted you telling you he was sick so you wouldn’t be able to see each other until he got better. You insisted on coming over and taking care of him, make him some soup, but he was clear in not wanting you to come over so you “wouldn’t catch whatever he had.” You listened at first, respecting Ryan’s wishes, and he was still texting you so you knew he was okay.

But as the week went on, Ryan’s texts started to slow. His responses became shorter and there would be blocks of several hours when you wouldn’t hear from him, which was completely out of character for him and it worried you.

You drew the line at him going radio silent on you for four hours in the middle of the Saturday afternoon. That was so unlike him and you just felt it in your bones that he wasn’t okay, so you decided to go in and check on him. After all, he had given you a key to his penthouse.

You packed all the ingredients you’d need to make Ryan a nice minestrone soup, something that always made you feel better when you were sick, and a small bag with some clothes in case you had to stay to take care of him.

The drive to his building wasn’t bad, and you shrugged your bags over each shoulder before starting up to his penthouse, having no idea just how much your world was about to change.

You knocked on his door first, but when he didn’t answer, you used the key he gave you to let yourself in. The whole penthouse was dark as you walked in, all the lights were off and he had the blackout curtains drawn.

“Ryan?” You called out, but you didn’t get an answer. You put your bags down on the kitchen floor before walking through the penthouse towards the master bedroom. “Ryan?” You repeated as you knocked before opening the door and stepping in.

Ryan swallowed, his throat feeling hot and dry with hunger. “You shouldn’t be here,” he told you, pushing himself up so he was resting against the headboard.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you told him, walking over to him and turning the bedside lamp on. Ryan flinched at the light and you apologized before looking over at him. Ryan was always pale, but he looked paler, and it made the bags under his eyes look darker. And his eyes seemed darker than normal too, almost black.

“You should go, before you get sick,” he told you but you shook your head and reached over to brush his hair back, your wrist almost brushing his nose. You could have sworn his eyes changed colour before he squeezed them shut and he jerked away from your touch, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes.

“Ryan?” You asked softly.

He whispered your name, pleading you to leave while refusing to meet your eyes. “It’s safer for you to leave,” he told you.

You shook your head, “have you looked at yourself? I’m not leaving you like this.”

He kept rubbing his eyes, but it was no use, he knew what colour they were and as long as you were that close to him, they weren’t going to change. It had been over a week since he last fed and as in controlled as he was, his body was reacting to the smell of your blood.

He said your name again, this time almost like he was warning you, but you didn’t listen. You reached out to cover his other hand with yours and Ryan was always cold, but his skin was almost icy and again he jerked back from your touch before he pushed the blankets off and got out of bed, crossing to the room to head into his ensuite and locked the door behind him.

He flinched again as he turned the light on before he put his hands on the edge of the vanity. He kept his eyes closed as he tried to focus on the coldness of the marble, repeating to himself that it was going to be okay, that he was going to be okay, that you were okay.

But when he finally opened his eyes, they were still red.

He cursed under his breath and banged his hand down on the counter hard enough for you to hear it. The sound made you jump and you walked over to the bathroom, knocking softly on the door, “Ryan?”

“I’m fine,” he told you, not that it was true. No matter how hard he tried, his eyes wouldn’t go back to normal and they probably wouldn’t until you left or he was able to feed.

He knew he’d have to tell you eventually, but he had been putting off telling for as long as he could, not wanting to scare you off and lose you. But now he was locked in his bathroom with you on the other side of the door and it wasn’t like he had another option.

He banged his fist against the counter a few more times before straightening himself up. “I’m going to come out,” he told you through the door. “But promise me you won’t be scared.”

You furrowed your brows, wondering what exactly you could be afraid of. “Uh, I promise?” You replied, taking a step back from the door as you heard it unlock. Ryan opened the door slowly, keeping his eyes on the floor, only lifting them when you said his name.

You took a sharp in take of breath when you met his eyes before stepping back from him. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he told you, but didn’t try to crowd you.

“What happened to your eyes?” You asked softly. There was no natural reason why his eyes would be that colour.

He swallowed, opening and closing his mouth before sitting on the edge of his bed. “I’m… A vampire,” he said slowly, not looking at you, not wanting to see your reaction.

You forced a laugh, “now isn’t the time for jokes. Take the contacts out.”

He lifted his eyes to look at you. “I’m not joking,” he said. “I wish I was… God, you have no idea how much I wish I was, but I’m not.”

Your breath was swallow as you looked at him, still not believing him and Ryan sighed. “I can prove it, but I need you to not freak out or be scared of me.”

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. “Okay, prove it.”

Ryan nodded and stood up, closing the distance between you. He reached for your hand and you let him take it. His skin was always cold, but you never really gave it a second thought until now. Despite their blood colour, his eyes were soft, sad even, as he lifted your hand to his chest, resting it over his heart. You gave him a quizzical look as he kept your hand against his chest, but he didn’t say anything, just waited. Waited for you to not feel it.

It took you a few moments, but slowly you realized that you couldn’t feel his heart beating, couldn’t feel him breathing. You furrowed your brows and looked at his chest, moving your hand as you brought your other hand up to your chest. You could feel your heart, so why couldn’t you feel his?

“Why can’t I feel your heart?” You asked softly, looking up at him.

“Because it hasn’t beat in over two hundred years,” he whispered, letting your hand drop back to your side before stepping back to put some space between you. You kept your hand on your chest and you could feel your heart quicken as you looked at him, but he couldn’t meet your eyes.

“Why weren’t your eyes red before?” You asked softly.

He cringed, “they’re red because I’m hungry. Usually they’re not, but I haven’t had… You know… In over a week and I can smell your blood so they turned red.”

Your hand unconsciously moved up to your throat, “you’re not joking, are you?”

“Why would I joke about this?” He asked softly, sadly. “I’m in love with you, hopelessly in love with you actually. Why would I fuck this all up by pretending to be a vampire?”

You had to admit it, he had a point.

You swallowed, “do you… Drink people?” You cringed at your words but you had to know.

He shook his head immediately. “No,” he said firmly. “I have a supplier, he gets me, and others, blood from the blood banks. The stuff that’s going to go bad, he takes and gives to us. I haven’t… Bitten anyone in a long, long time.”

You nodded, feeling a little relieved that your boyfriend wasn’t a serial killer. “And you’ve been a… Vampire the whole time we’ve been together?”

He nodded, “since 1823.”

You let out a deep breath. “I’m guess that means your birthday isn’t May 21st, 1995,” you said with a slight laugh.

“It is May 21st,” he told you. “But… May 21st… 1798.”

His words hung in the air and you took a shaky breath as you put your hand on the wall to support yourself. That was a lot to process. “I’m going to need time to wrap my head around this,” you told him and he nodded, completely understanding that.

The rational part of your brain was telling you to leave. Ryan was a vampire, a very old vampire, so you should turn around and walk out that door and never look back.

But you didn’t move.

You couldn’t remember consciously learning about vampires, they were just always there, fictional creatures embedded in dozens of books and movies and TV shows you saw.

Vampires were almost always the monster of the story, lifeless creatures who fed on people, drinking people dry because they couldn’t control their hunger. They were almost unkillable, and strong. And cold.

You always thought that they were nothing more than folklore.

But Ryan was so unlike that.

Ryan was warm and kind and so full of life.

Maybe you should have been scared of him, but you weren’t. You loved Ryan and all this time he had been a vampire. The love of your life was a vampire and he needed your help.

“Okay,” you said more to yourself than anything. Ryan furrowed his brows as you took a deep breath. “You’re hungry?”

He cringed and rubbed the back of his neck, “I’ll be okay.”

“Your supplier,” you repeated back to him and he nodded. “How long until he gets back to you?”

Ryan shrugged, doing his best to play it off, not wanting you to worry, “a few days, maybe longer, I don’t really know.” Your stomach dropped. Even you knew that was too long. Ryan picked up on your shift and shook his head. “I’ll be okay, I promise. Not feeding won’t kill me.”

“But you’re suffering,” you pointed out.

“I’ll be okay,” he repeated.

You shook your head and looked down at your arm before rolling your sleeve up. “I know you’ll be okay, but I can make you okay right now.” Ryan leaned back from you, shaking his head as he said your name in a warning tone. “You haven’t hurt me,” you said slowly. “I trust you. And I want to help you.”

“I don’t think so,” he told you.

“Look at yourself, Ryan. Let me help you. Please let me help you,” you begged, holding your wrist out to him. Ryan’s body acted on his own accord as he reached his hand out to softly hold your wrist, his thumb resting over your pulse point. “It’s okay, I want you to have my blood,” you reassured him.

Ryan swallowed, pausing for several moments before he nodded. He lifted your wrist to press his nose to your wrist. “You smell so good,” he whispered, making you shiver at how deep his voice was.

“It’s gonna hurt. I’m just letting you know. First bite always hurts,” he warned as he rubbed soothing circles to your skin, giving you time to change your mind and pull back. When you didn’t, he felt his fangs lower, grazing them against your skin and he could feel you shiver underneath him. “I’d never hurt you intentionally.”

“It’s okay. You could never hurt me,” you whispered, waiting for it, wanting it.

Ryan pressed a gentle kiss to your wrist before he sunk his teeth into your skin making you gasp. Your eyes widened and you reached out to grip his shirt, needing something to hold onto, but he took your hand into his and encouraged you to squeeze it.

He was right about the first bite hurting. It was a searing pain that radiated through your body, but the pain went away after a few moments and your eyes fluttered closed as you bit your lip.

Ryan wasn’t shy about how good your blood tasted, moaning softly against your wrist. He was used to old, cold blood, but yours was fresh and warm and better than anything he’s ever tasted. You tasted better than he could have imagined.

If it wasn’t for his incredible self-control, he would have drunk more, he wanted to have more, but he knew he was getting full and that he didn’t need any more, so he forced himself to pull back, gently licking at the wound so it would heal before pulling back and gently guiding your wrist back down to your side.

When you opened your eyes, Ryan’s were back to their familiar colour and he wasn’t as pale. “Thank you,” he smiled, running his tongue over his lips to make sure he didn’t waste a single drop of your blood.

His eyes flickered down to your lips for a moment before looking into your eyes and you leaned into him. You were a little lightheaded from the blood he took, but you could think clearly and you weren’t weak. You glanced down at his lips before leaning in further. Ryan’s hand was still on your wrist, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin. You didn’t hesitate to close the distance between you and press your lips to his.

Kissing you almost made him feel human again.

The kiss was soft and slow and deep and you moved your hands up to his shoulders to pull him closer, kissing him until you needed to pull back to catch your breath.

He held your gaze, his eyes a comforting dark and you blushed as you took a deep, shaky breath. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from you making you hide your face in his chest. He laughed softly, moving his hand to cradle your head. “You just let me drink your blood and you kissed me and now you’re shy?” He laughed, gently pulling you back so he could look at you. You smiled, but couldn’t meet his eyes, so he took your chin in his hand and tilted your face up towards him. “Are you okay?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, I promise,” you whispered. “Are you?” He gave you a smile as he nodded.

“I am,” he whispered. “Because of you.” He paused before whispering, “thank you. I’m eternally grateful.”

“Yeah, no problem, anytime,” you told him before laughing. Your boyfriend had just had his teeth in your wrist to drink your blood and you acted like he had just returned some Tupperware.

Ryan gave you a reassuring smile before nodding towards the bed. “You should lay down,” he told you. He may have stopped himself from drinking too much, but it was still a sudden loss of blood and he didn’t want you to faint.

You nodded and let him guide you towards his bed and gently laid down in his oversized bed. You reached out to grab his wrist so he couldn’t turn away from you. Maybe you should have been scared of him, but you weren’t. You never were.

You felt drawn to Ryan since the moment you met in the park and not once did he try to hurt you. Ryan did nothing but love you, and you loved him. Still did.

“Don’t leave,” you said and Ryan shook his head.

“I’m not,” he told you. “I’m just going to get you a glass of water, okay? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

He waited for you to nod and let go of his wrist before slipping out of the room to do what he told you. He was only gone a few moments before returning with the glass of water and he made you sit up and drink half of it before putting it down on his bedside table.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked, giving you a soft smile when you nodded.

“I promise,” you whispered, returning his smile as you played with his fingers. “You’ve taken care of me; it was my turn to take care of you,” you replied. He opened his mouth to try to argue but you moved over so you weren’t in the middle of his bed. “Cuddle me?” You whispered and of course Ryan nodded. He slipped into bed and you quickly curled into his arms, resting your head on his chest. Maybe his chest didn’t rise and fall, maybe his heart didn’t beat, but you felt warm and safe and loved.

“Tell me about being a vampire?” You asked after a moment.

Ryan was quiet as he softly ran his hand down your back. “What do you want to know exactly?”

“Everything you want to tell me,” you replied.

“Okay,” Ryan nodded. You hadn’t run from him and you let him drink your blood, you deserved answers. “Well, I guess I should start by saying most of pop culture got it wrong.” You hummed, urging him to continue.

“The immortality and the blood, that’s true. But we… Vampires… We can walk in the daylight and it’s not an insatiable hunger,” he told you. “It’s not a drive or an impulse, it’s just like when you haven’t eaten all day. Like, sure, you’d rather eat now then wait two hours for dinner, but that doesn’t mean you’re going open a bag of chips. You’ll be fine to wait for dinner. And when you do eat, you don’t shove the whole burger into your mouth at once, you take bites like a normal person.”

You laughed softly and looked up at him. Maybe you should have seen him differently, but he was the same Ryan you fell in love with.

“But you’ve had food? And drinks?” You asked.

“We can have human food,” he confirmed. “It doesn’t sit well in our stomachs, especially if we haven’t fed, but we can have it.”

You took a deep breath through your nose, thinking back to all the meals and drinks you two shared. “Did it hurt?” You asked softly.

“What?” He questioned.

“Human food,” you replied. “Does it hurt?”

Ryan was quiet for a moment, thinking over how to answer you. “Not badly,” he settled on. “Just gives us a mild stomach ache until it leaves our system.”

“Okay,” you whispered, but you still felt guilty about how many of your dates were around meals or coffee and he forced it all down to be with you.

“Don’t worry about,” he reassured you. “I promise it isn’t bad.”

You nodded and let it go, snuggling closer into his chest. “What about you?” You asked after a moment.

“What about me?” He replied, looking down at you.

“Your life?” You asked. “Your real life.”

Ryan was quiet as he ran his hand down your back. “I was born in 1798 in London, England,” he started. “My father was upperclass so I was lucky, I didn’t have to work the lands or live in poverty like so many did. I was trying to become a member of Parliament for the Whigs. All things considered, I had a very… Sheltered life, you could say. Honestly, if you had known me then you wouldn’t have liked me.”

You laughed at his comment, but he wasn’t wrong. You loved Ryan, you really did, but a white upperclass man in the nineteenth century who’s had everything handed to them? Yeah, you were going to pass on that.

“Then I… Lost everything,” he said, uncomfortably rolling his shoulders. “I was turned in 1823. It was awful and painful and confusing. Those first couple months were the worst in my life.”

You swallowed and looked up at him to give him a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to tell me what you don’t want to,” you reassured him.

He nodded. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable talking about it, it was more that he didn’t want you to know. Those first couple years without a vampire to show him how to survive and control it, he had done a lot of things he wished he could take back and he didn’t want you to know that dark, monstrous part of him.

“The one that turned me never stuck around to show me how to be a vampire so I struggled a lot those first couple years,” he simplified. “And it was beyond painful to watch my family grieve me from a distance and knowing that I could never see them again… Never hug them again.”

You gave his side a reassuring squeeze and he continued, “a couple years after turning I made the decision to leave London to make it easier for me. I could never have the life I had and it was just causing me pain to be there so I went to Canada and I spent a lot of time there. It’s a big country… Made is easier to pick up and start over. I did a lot of that,” he explained. “Never ageing was hard. I’m stuck at this age where I only get about a decade somewhere before I have to start back over. And I did that by just continually moving across the country.”

You couldn’t imagine what that would be like. Ten years… Sure ten years felt like a lot of time when it’s happening, but having to start over every ten years for almost two centuries? Never having the time to set down roots?

“I’ll spare you the details but um… I went to war in 1914. I couldn’t die and it wasn’t like I had anything better to do with my time. The roaring twenties that followed were fun. Great Depression not so much so I slept through that decade,” he said and you lifted your head to look at him.

“What do you mean you slept through the decade?”

“I mean, I’m oversimplifying it,” he confessed. “Vampires don’t actually sleep. But we can stop eating and just... Sleep is the wrong word because we’re dead and don’t sleep, but we can kind of just be dead for a while. Like a hibernation.”

“For a decade?” You asked, trying to wrap your head around it.

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p.’ “And then I woke up and we were at war again... And I enlisted again.”

“Jesus…” You whispered.

“It’s okay,” he reassured you. “I won’t give you any of the details and you don’t have to worry. I promise you I wasn’t the only vampire who served.” You couldn’t say that his words comforted you. “Things got better after that. I met more vampires like me, made friends that I still see today, spent a lot of time in university learning things.” He laughed, “I’ll have you know that I am the proud owner of a Doctorate in physics.”

You burst out in laughter. “You? No way. Literature maybe, but physics? No way.”

“It’s true,” he told you. “It’s somewhere in this penthouse so if I can kind it, I can prove it. But really, there isn’t much else to tell you. I moved to America in the 80s, lived in a lot of big cities, and now here I am, in Denver, where I had the absolute honour of meeting you.”

You smiled and pushed yourself up enough to kiss him and Ryan melted into the kiss, pulling you closer as he tried to pour all of his love for you into the kiss. He gave you a soft smile and pulled you in for another kiss.

“You never mentioned any girlfriends,” you whispered when he pulled back.

“I didn’t really have any,” he replied, pulling his eyes from yours to look at the ceiling. “I’ve… I’ve been with a lot of people in my life, but none more than a fling since I was turned. I promised myself a long time ago that I’d never fall for a human.”

“But you fell for me,” you whispered.

“But I fell for you,” he confirmed, looking back at you, his hand gently cupping your jaw. Maybe it was foolish and reckless and dangerous, but he fell for you and he didn’t regret it.

You leaned into his touch and kissed the inside of his wrist before leaning in to kiss him again. “I love you, Ryan,” you told him when you pulled back. “I love you and you being a vampire doesn’t change that.”

The corner of his lip twitched up and he nodded, a large wave of relief going through his body. If he could breathe, he would have taken a huge breath of relief. “Thank you,” he whispered. He didn’t know how much he needed to hear you say those words.

You nodded and gently brushed his hair back. “You’re the same man I fell in love with,” you told him, and that was the truth.

You spent the rest of the afternoon cuddling and Ryan did his best to answer any questions you had. You deserved to know and, for the most part, he was happy to tell you.

You may have come over to make dinner for him, but he ended up making dinner for you. He made one of your favourites for you while you sat on the other side of the island and he brushed off your every attempt to help him. “You gave me dinner, and now I’m going to make you dinner,” he told you with a smile.

It was weird sitting at the table with him and being the only one eating, but the more it happened, the easier it was for you to adjust to it. If he took you out on a date to a restaurant, he’d order something and pick at it, but he wasn’t going to force human food down while you two were alone now that you knew.

And now that you knew he was a vampire and had let him drink your blood, you let him drink from you whenever he needed, or whenever he wanted.

Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you did. Blood could be hard to come by or take a while to acquire and you had plenty. He felt guilty about it at first, hating that he was taking your blood, but he quickly learnt that you liked when he drank your blood. You liked the feeling of Ryan biting you; it bordered between pain and pleasure and you were hooked.

And you had him wrapped around your finger. Anything you wanted, you got, and he’d do anything to make you feel good. And if that was sinking his teeth into your neck while you were on his lap, then he’d happily give you that.

He took care of you, never took much, made sure the wound was healed and pressed countless kisses to your skin. And afterwards he always made sure you were hydrated and gave you a high iron snack.  

Ryan always took care of you and treated you like a queen. He took you to the expensive restaurants, spoiled you with things he knew you wanted but would never buy for yourself, and just generally looked out for you and made sure you were happy and healthy.

But all of that increased now that you let him drink your blood. He was eternally grateful and so incredible in love with you and he needed you to know that.  

Besides being his personal blood bank (Ryan hated when you called yourself that), nothing really changed between you since finding out he was a vampire. You were still you, Ryan was still Ryan, and you were the happiest you had ever been.

You were never one to believe in soulmates, why would you? The world was too big and filled with too many people for soulmates to exist and find each other. Soulmates were just an overused cliché authors used to solidify a couple. But all that changed with Ryan.

Things with Ryan always felt right, like you were supposed to be with him.

You didn’t believe in soulmates, but now that you knew he was a vampire, you couldn’t help but feel like there was a reason he was turned, that he was supposed to be a vampire so he could live and meet you more than two hundred years after he was born. Couldn’t help but think that this was your true chance to get a real forever with the love of your life.

And you lived in that perfectly fairytale for the first year of your relationship with him.

Ryan and his vampire friends tried to get together at least once a year and when the get together came up just over a year into your relationship, Ryan invited you to join him.

“It’ll give you the chance to meet my friends, and give me the chance to show you off,” he explained with a smile.

“You want me to go to a vampire party?” You clarified, pausing making yourself some lunch to look at him and Ryan laughed softly, letting his eyes drop to the kitchen counter before looking back at you.

“I know you’ll probably be the only human there, but I promise you’ll be safe. They’re all like me and are completely in control, and I know you’d get along great with them,” he said, gently resting his hands on your shoulder. “If you don’t want to, I understand, but I know they’d really like to meet you.”

You trusted Ryan with your life, but if you were being honest, the idea of being the only human in a room full of vampires you didn’t know wasn’t exactly high on your to do list. But Ryan was looking at you with hopeful eyes and you imagined that this was his equivalent to meeting his family and it was a big deal for him and you didn’t want to let him down. So, you nodded.

“Okay,” you agreed.

“Yeah?” He asked, instantly perking up.

“Yeah, I’ll meet your vampire friends,” you told him with a smile and he pulled you to his chest, giving you a tight hug before pulling back and reaching for his phone.

“They’re going to be so excited to hear you’re coming,” he told you as he flopping on the couch, his thumbs already quickly dancing across the screen. You smiled to yourself as you went back to making your lunch. Seeing Ryan happy made you happy and a warmth settled in your chest as you continued to glance over at him and the bright smile he wore as he set everything up.

The party wasn’t for another couple weeks, so it gave you time to get a new outfit and to prepare yourself to meet his friends might be. Ryan didn’t mention them that often, only in passing or if something reminded him of a story that involved them. Honestly, you didn’t even know how many friends he had, but you knew he mentioned Gabe, Sam, Nate and Cale the most.

But the extra couple weeks didn’t exactly help calm you down, really, it made you more anxious.

These guys were Ryan’s family, they had known each other for decades, some had known each other for centuries. If they didn’t like you… You were temporary and they weren’t. The night had to go well, and they had to like you.

You bought a nice dress that wasn’t too tight but also wasn’t too suffocatingly modest. You took your time getting ready for the party wanting to make sure you looked your absolute best, even if Ryan told you it was just a casual thing.

He got dress in a simple black pair of slacks and a white button down shirt and pulled half his hair up, and he was happy to sit back and wait for you to be ready. You didn’t have to tell him for him to know that you were anxious about the whole thing, so he wasn’t going to stress you out more by rushing you or watching over your shoulder.

Ryan perked up when he heard the bedroom room open and if he could breathe, his breath would have caught in his throat. You looked absolutely stunning. You smiled as he slowly ran his eyes down your body and you did a little spin for him.

“Damn baby,” he groaned before standing up and walking over to you. “You look like a five course meal.”

You rolled your eyes at his joke but you couldn’t hide your smile. Ryan leaned in to kiss you, but you took a step back. “I’m not letting you ruin my lipstick before we’ve even left the penthouse,” you told him before stepping out of his arms to get a jacket, but Ryan was faster than you and looped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against his chest with a soft laugh.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He said into your hair.

“I love you more,” you replied on impulse, leaning back against him.

“Not possible,” he whispered and you strained your neck to look up at him. Maybe Ryan was worth ruining your lipstick over. The corner of your lip twitched up and you pushed yourself up to kiss him softly. Ryan chased your lips when you pulled back and you let him kiss you again before slipping out of his arms to get your jacket.

Gabe was hosting this year and, to your surprise, he was also living in Denver, so you didn’t have far to drive to get there, but even if the drive was short, your nerves only got worse every mile closer.

Unlike Ryan, Gabe wasn’t living in a penthouse overlooking the city. Rather, he had settled for a fair sized house in the suburbs.

“Gabe’s wife is a vampire, too,” he told you as he parked the car along the curb. “A few of them are seeing other vampires, but I was told a lot of them are skipping because—”

“Because I’m human,” you finished for him.

“Yeah,” he confirmed.

“You should have told me, I didn’t have to go,” you said, looking over at him.

Ryan opened and closed his mouth, not exactly wanting to point out that he had forever to meet and hang out with them, and he didn’t have that with you. “It’s fine,” he settled on, his voice a little shaky. “Let’s just head in, yeah? They’re going to love you.”

You nodded and stepped out of the car. Ryan came around the other side and let his hand rest on your lower back as he guided you up to the house and you hoped that your rapid heart wasn’t loud enough for them to hear.

Ryan didn’t bother knocking as you came up to the front door, just let himself in, holding the door open for you before closing it behind him.

Whatever conversations going on in the room came to a halt as they looked over at you and you did your best to not breathe too loudly as Ryan took your coat. The main room of Gabe’s house was open and grand and filled with well over a dozen people and you hoped they couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating.

Ryan’s hand found your lower back as he tried to reassure you and it was a blonde man with a bit of beard and a bright smile that stepped forwards. “Nice to finally me you, I’m Gabe,” he said as he extended his hand.

You told him your name as you shook his head, his skin the same cool that Ryan’s was. “Thank you for having me, you have a beautiful home,” you added as he let go of your hand.

“Thank you,” he smiled before glancing over at who you assumed was his wife and holding his hand out. “This is my wife, Mel,” he introduced and you held your hand out to her, but she pulled you into a hug. You froze, not expecting that and she quickly pulled back.

“Sorry,” she apologized with a light laugh. “It’s just really nice to meet you, talking to the same idiots for decades can get boring.”

“It’s okay,” you told her but you stepped back towards the safety that was Ryan. Ryan’s touch was familiar and comforting and safe and he wrapped his arm around your waist as he guided you to meet his other friends.

It was nice to put names and faces to all of his friends and you couldn’t stop smiling as Ryan hugged each of his friends and whispered something along the lines of “I missed you” or “it’s so good to see you” to each of them.

The next person Ryan introduced you to you swore couldn’t be older than twenty with kind eyes and rose cheeks despite his pale complexation. “Don’t let his baby face fool you, Cale is actually older than me,” Ryan said with a smile, pulling Cale in for a hug. “Much older than me.”

“I’m really happy to see you’re doing well,” Cale told Ryan, giving his shoulder a pat before pulling back from the hug to give you his full attention. “And it’s so nice to finally meet you, Ryan has told us so much about you.”

“All good I hope,” you said with a nervous laugh.

“A woman as lovely as yourself? I doubt there’s anything bad to mention,” Cale told you before reaching for your hand. You were expecting to shake his hand, but he leaned down to press a light kiss to your knuckles making your cheeks heat up with a blush.

“Thank you? It’s really so nice to meet you,” you told him and cleared your throat as you turned your attention to whomever Ryan was hugging.

“This is Sammy,” Ryan introduced. “He’s French and if you don’t understand what he’s saying, don’t worry, none of us do.”

Sam grumbled something in what you assumed was French and gave Ryan a hard shove, not that he moved, before giving you a smile. “Lovely to meet you, though why you’d stay with him is beyond me,” he said, his accent thick.

You laughed and shook his hand. “The pleasure is mine. And I’d also love the answer to that question,” you laughed, not that it was true. You could write a list of all the reasons you loved Ryan and you were confident you’d never run out.

The last person you met held his hand out awkwardly to you and you shook it as you waited for himself or Ryan to introduce him. “This is Nate,” Ryan said another a moment.

“Ah,” you nodded. “The troublemaker.”

You watched the smile fall from his lips as he looked over to Ryan. “You told your girl I was a troublemaker? Bro!”

Ryan laughed, “I just told her a few stories and she put the troublemaker thing together on her own. But she’s not wrong.”

“She’s not,” Sam agreed before pouring him and Cale a drink. He asked you and Ryan what you’d like and you thanked him when he brought them over.

Once the introductions were out of the way, you were able to relax and settle in and actually enjoy the get together. It was weird being the only human and listening to stories that happened decades or centuries ago, but you did your best to get past it and plaster a smile on your face for Ryan.

The guys were great for the most part. It was easy to see that there were dynamics and smaller groups within the group and the group that Ryan was closest with—Gabe, Cale, Sam and Nate—were all really nice and it was easy to enjoy their company, especially since they all made an effort to include you in the conversation and ask questions about you.

They were so warm and welcoming that it was easy for you to forget that they were vampires.

You had been at the party for maybe an hour when someone new slipped through the front door, pausing for just a second when his eyes landed on you.

“I’m so incredible sorry I’m late, traffic was horrendous,” he said with a charming smile, a soft but definite British accent clinging to his words.

“No worries, William,” Gabe said with a smile. “We’re so glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said, hanging his coat up in the closet before walking forwards the kitchen. “When I heard Ryan was bringing someone, I just had to meet them. I knew they’d be lovely, but…” Like Cale, he took your hand to kiss your knuckles. “Darling, he understated your beauty.”

You hated that you blushed at his words but you couldn’t say you were used to such gentlemanly behaviour. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you told him with a smile.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he told you with a charming smile.

“Okay, stop flirting with my girlfriend,” Ryan said with a light but forced laugh, putting his hand on your lower back.

William raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not, I promise, but I will take my leave,” he said. “Have a lovely night, darling, and if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to reach out.” He gave you one last smile before crossing the room to who you assumed was his typical group.

“And I thought Cale was a gentleman,” you laughed making the group laugh before Nate went back to telling whatever story he was telling.

You liked Cale and Nate the most, Cale was so sweet and such a gentlemen to you and Nate just kept making you laugh. You didn’t know how long you were standing around the island talking about everything and anything, but eventually you excused yourself to use the bathroom and Gabe pointed you in the direction. You slipped down the hall and were about to step into the washroom when you heard William’s voice again.

“We meet again,” he said.

“So nice to see you again,” you said with a smile, something about him drawing you in.

He smiled back at you, “you really do look beautiful tonight, I hope Ryan has told you that.”

You accepted his compliment with a laugh, “thank you.”

“Forgive me, I know you were about to use to the restroom, I just wanted to give you this,” William stepped forwards to hand you a simple white business card with only a number on it. “I’ve known Ryan a long time. Being a vampire is… Complicated at best and I know sometimes it’s hard to answer questions, so if you ever have a question you don’t want to ask Ryan, please feel free to shoot me a text.”

“Thank you?” You replied, looking up from the business card.

He gave you another smile and nodded, “anyways, I’ll leave you to freshen up.” He almost gave you a bow before slipping back down the hall, leaving you to look back down at the business card before you slipped it into your clutch and entered the washroom.

When you came back to the island, Ryan had filled your glass of wine and you murmured a thank you before slipping back into the conversation. You were so caught up in the conversation and the warmth in your chest that you didn’t realize how much your feet were hurting and it was Cale that caught the way you were shifting on your feet.

“I believe we should move this over to the living room,” he said, looking over at you. Just like you were able to forget they were vampires, they forgot you weren’t one.

“That’s a great idea,” Gabe agreed and gestured over to the couch.

You threw back the rest of whatever glass of wine you were on and let Ryan guide you over to the living room.

Maybe you should have worn different shoes, maybe you shouldn’t have been standing that long, maybe you had had one glasses of wine too many. But it was an accident.

Your feet were heavy in your heels and your head was warm from the wine and to separate the space, Gabe had a nice area rug down in the living room and Ryan’s hand no longer lingered on your back and you just tripped right into the coffee table that happened to be made of glass. You put your hands out to catch yourself, but of course the table shattered, digging several pieces of glass into your hands.

Ryan picked you up as quickly as you fell, pulling you away from the glass as he asked if you were okay. “Yeah, yeah,” you told him, looking down at your hands and the blood that was running down your forearms. It wasn’t a scary amount, but it was definitely enough to startle you, the wine thinning your blood.

Nate had just sat down on the couch, but he immediately got up and put space between himself and you while Gabe dug his nails into the arm of his chair. You met Ryan’s eyes and you could see the panic in them before he glanced around the room to see how everyone was reacting, the whole gathering having come to a halt. There were enough of them that if they wanted to, they could easily overpower both him and you. But luckily they seemed to have a grip on it for the most part. Ryan watched how a couple of them looked away or forced whatever their alcohol of choice was down their throats or slipped out the sliding door to get some fresh air.

Ryan looked back at you, not even sure where to start with the glass in your hand but the glass quickly became his second priority.

Chris really should have fed before coming to the party. He knew that Ryan was bringing a human. But, he was one of the younger vampires, he thought he had more control than he did and he wanted to save his supply for when he was truly hungry so he passed on the snack before going to the party. Maybe if it was just a little blood, he wouldn’t have reacted, but it was dripping down your arms and it made him feral.

Ryan sensed him move before you could realize it was happening and it all happened so fast. One second Ryan was gently holding your wrist looking at your injuries, the next he was pushing you back hard enough your back hit the couch, knocking the air out of you with a loud thud before he grabbed Chris by the neck and pinned him against the opposite wall, as far away as he could get him from you.

Ryan was much bigger and stronger than Chris and easily overpowered him as he kept him pinned to the wall. “Don’t fucking touch her,” Ryan hissed, making his eyes turn a threatening red.

The ache in your chest hurt more than the glass and you looked over at him with wide eyes having never seen him so angry before. Ryan would never let anyone hurt you, and that’s something he’s told you before, but you’ve never seen him like this. You jumped when Cale put his hand on your shoulder as he knelt down next to you, making sure you were okay. Ryan was his closest friend and he’d do anything to protect you, too.

“Settle the fuck down,” Ryan snarled at Chris, tightening his grip on his throat. He wasn’t going to let go of him until he was fed. “Someone get him some blood.”

“On it,” Gabe said, quickly pushing himself out of his chair and walking out of the room to get blood, Mel not far behind him.

Ryan looked over his shoulder at you and his eyes instantly softened and returned to the colour you knew. “Sweetheart, why don’t you get cleaned up?”

You nodded and Cale didn’t need to be told twice. He gently put his hands under your arms and helped you to your feet. You winced as you stood and Cale apologized before guiding you down the hall towards the washroom to clean you up, carefully locking the door behind you.

Maybe you should have been nervous to be alone in a room with a vampire that wasn’t Ryan with blood dripping down your arms, but it was Cale and sure you had only known him for a few hours, but you knew deep in your bones that you could trust him. He didn’t react to your blood as he started to pick the pieces of glass out of your hands. It took a few minutes, but he was able to clean you up and stop the bleeding.

You continued to take shallow breaths since it hurt less and Cale picked up on it. “Your hands aren’t the only thing that’s hurt, is it?” You opened your mouth to lie, but he nodded. “Ribs, right?”

You sighed but nodded. “It’s not bad, and Ryan didn’t mean to, he was just trying to keep me safe,” you told him.

“I know,” he whispered. “He didn’t push you too hard, probably nothing more than a cracked rib. You’ll be good as new in a couple weeks.”

“Thank you,” you told him with a small smile and Cale nodded as he got the bandages out to wrap your hands up.

“I’ve known Ryan for a very long time and I’ve never seen him get this protective before—of anyone he knew,” he whispered as he started to bandage your hands.

His words took you completely off guard and you didn’t know how you were supposed to take that. You took a deep breath that made you wince. “I never wanted to make things awkward between any of you, I know most of you have been friends for decades. I’m sorry,” you told him. “And can you tell Gabe I’m sorry about the table?”

“It’s not going to be awkward,” Cale reassured you. “Chris should have fed before you came. He knew we were meeting you today.”

You nodded and watched as he finished bandaging you up before looking back up at him. You wanted to let go of what he said about Ryan, really, you did, but the curiosity got the best of you. “You said you knew Ryan a long time?” You asked him and Cale nodded. You opened and closed your mouth, debating whether you should ask, whether you wanted to know. “Has he ever brought anyone to meet you?” You asked after a moment.

He smiled as he looked at you and shook his head. “No, you’re the first one. First girl he’s ever brought around,” he told you making you let out a relieved breath as you nodded. He told you that he had never fallen for a human before and you trusted that he was telling you the truth, but you couldn’t help but wonder what his past relationships or flings were like, if he had ever cared for a human enough to bring them around to his vampire friends. You being the first, the only, it meant that your relationship was as serious for Ryan as it was for you. Cale chuckled at your reaction and gently patted your back. “He’s serious about you, trust me. He wouldn’t have brought you around if he wasn’t,” he smiled.

“Thank you,” you whispered after a moment and he nodded.

“Let’s go head back out, yeah?” He said before guiding you back to the living room.

Chris had calmed down with the blood by the time you came out and Ryan was not so subtly pacing as he waited for you to come out and as soon as he saw you, he walked over to you. His touch was soft as he held your wrist in one hand, his thumb tracing over the bandage and wrapped his other around you, pulling you flush against him. “Are you okay?” He asked softly.

“I’m okay,” you told him with a smile.

“I’m sorry I pushed you so hard, I had to grab him before he got to you,” Ryan told you as he traced over the bandage.

You shook your head despite the pain your ribs. “I’m okay, Ryan, I promise,” you reassured him as you leaned into him, feeling better with him just being there.

He kissed the top of your head as he guided you over to the couch so you could sit down, “I would never let anyone hurt you.”

“I know,” you smiled as you sat and Ryan sat took a seat next to you, his arm still resting on your back to hold you close, but the tension in the room was pliable and as the only person who breathed, you found it really hard to, your every breath sounding louder than it needed to in the quiet room.

The guys were great, they really were, and Nate and Gabe tried their best to bring the life back into the party, but it didn’t exactly work. The vibe of the gathering was dead and Ryan wouldn’t let you out of his grip, literally, and he kept glaring at Chris. So, you all knew it was time to head out.

“Thank you so much for having me, I truly am sorry about everything and your table,” you told Gabe and Mel.

“Don’t worry about it,” they reassured you. “What matters is that you’re okay.”

“Thank you,” you repeated before turning to Cale. “And thank you for everything.”

“My pleasure,” he replied with a soft smile. “Any friend of Ryan’s is a friend of mine. I’m just glad you’re okay. And I hope to see you again soon.”

“I hope so, too,” you told him before letting Ryan help you put your coat on and you did your best to hide your wince.

The night Denver air was cool as he walked you to his car, easily holding most of your weight. He opened the passenger door for you and closed it behind you once you were in. You watched as the tension left Ryan’s body after he got into the car and he melted back into the soft Ryan you knew.

“I’m really sorry that happened, I didn’t know—” Ryan started.

“It was an accident,” you cut him off. “I was a human in a room of vampires. I knew the risks, Ryan. I’m okay and that’s what matters.”

“Are you sure?” He asked softly, reaching over to rest his hand on your thigh.

You nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered. “But I would really like to go home now.”

Ryan gave you a soft smile and nodded. “Home sounds really good,” he agreed before turning the car on and putting it gear.

The drive back to his penthouse wasn’t long, and it went by faster with the buzz of the wine. Ryan didn’t let you out of his arms until you got into the penthouse and he locked the door behind him.

After taking your shoes and coats off, Ryan followed you into the bedroom to get undressed. He was unbuttoning his shirt when he heard you wince and he glanced over to see your hand pressed to your chest as you picked up the make up wipe you dropped and Ryan suspected it wasn’t just your hands that were bothering you.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered as you took your make up off, coming around you to put his hand on your lower back.

You wanted to tell him it was nothing because you knew that he was going to beat himself up over it, that he’d hate himself for hurting you even though he was saving your life, but you also knew that there was no way you were going to be able to hide a cracked rib for a month.

You turned to face him and took his hand into yours, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “I’m okay,” you said slowly. “I’m going to be okay and I need you to not beat yourself up over this.”

“Baby,” he breathed, and you watched his jaw clench as he waited for you to tell him whatever you were hiding.

“When you pushed me back, I think you cracked one of my ribs,” you told him before you quickly added. “But I’m okay, I’m going to be okay, and it doesn’t even hurt that much.”

But the only thing Ryan heard was that he hurt you and you watched as his shoulders dropped and he pulled his hand back before stepping away from you, wanting to put space between you. He never wanted to hurt you or cause you heartache, inflict any kind of pain on you, and now you were telling him that he had broken one of your bones? If he could breathe, he knew he’d be hyperventilating.

You could see it in his eyes that he was panicking and you stood up and reached out to him, but he only put more space between you, not wanting to accidentally hurt you more than he already had.

“I’m okay,” you repeated. “Ryan, I’m okay. You saved my life, that’s what matters.”

“I’m sorry,” he told you, the words heavy on his tongue as he shook his head.

“I’m okay,” you repeated, this time more firm. “Ryan look at me. Hey, look at me.” When he did you could see the heartbreak in his eyes. He did the one thing he promised he never would: hurt you.

You stepped forwards and reached for his hand, but he took a step back. “Ryan,” you pleaded before reaching for him again and he let you grab his hand. “I’m okay, I promise. It doesn’t hurt that bad at all, and you saved my life. If you hadn’t pushed me, who knows what he could have done. Ryan, you did the right thing.”

“But I hurt you,” he whispered.

“You saved me,” you corrected.

“I’m still sorry,” he whispered and it killed you to see him like that. You pressed yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around him as you hugged him. You could feel Ryan melt into your touch and he pressed his face into your neck, but you could feel that he was holding you like you were glass.

You paused as you tried to figure out what else you could say to him before you whispered, “I forgive you.” Ryan slumped forwards against you, holding you just a little tighter and you knew that was what he needed to hear.

You stayed in his arms as long as he needed before he finally pulled back. “We should get ready for bed, okay?” You asked, running your hand down his arm. Ryan nodded and gently held your wrist before lifting it to kiss over the bandage on your hand.

“You need rest,” he agreed and guided your hand back to your side so you could continue getting ready for bed, but Ryan continued watching you out of the corner of his eye the whole time.

Ryan waited for you to slip under the covers before joining you and laying down on his back as comfortably as he could before you curled up on his chest. The wine was still in your system and the exhaustion of the night’s events caught up with you fast and it wasn’t long before you were out like a light in his arms and there was nowhere you felt safer.

It took you five weeks to heal from the cracked rib and Ryan touched you less than he normally did during that time, constantly treating you like you were made of glass. You hated that he felt like he needed to hold back with you and once you were completely healed, you took your time with Ryan, guiding his hands over your body, showing him that you weren’t afraid of him and that he wasn’t going to hurt you.

--

Your relationship with Ryan wasn’t perfect, but it was perfect in its own way.

He was a vampire and you were human. As much as authors liked to think of it as a hopelessly romantic trope, it wasn’t. There were fights and a lot of confusion based disagreements, but your love for Ryan surpassed all of that, and Ryan loved you more than anyone he had ever met in his especially long life.

Part of Ryan felt guilty for staying with you when you deserved a real human life and he couldn’t give you that.

But you loved him.

He had done a lot of things he wish he could take back, things he wished he could have done differently. So, maybe it was selfish, but if he was going to feel guilty, he’d rather feel guilty about loving you.

Maybe he was Hades dooming Persephone, but he asked you to move into his penthouse two years after he told you he was a vampire.

You loved Ryan with every ounce of your being and you didn’t want to change a thing about him. But, even in two years, you could see all the ways you had changed and Ryan was the same as the day you met him.

The exact same.

It just reminded you of how fleeting human life really was and you couldn’t waste another moment.

So, you couldn’t say yes fast enough.

It might have just been moving in, but you both knew it was more and you couldn’t wait for the rest of your life with Ryan to begin. It wasn’t like you had a second to spare.

Living with Ryan was really nice.

You loved being able to fall asleep in his arms night after night. He may not sleep, but he still went to bed with you every night and let you curl up in his arms. He didn’t mind laying still for several hours if it meant you were happy. And his cool skin kept you from overheating at night, so you almost always woke up the same way you fell asleep and you were always greeted with a soft smile from Ryan.

You wanted that every day for the rest of your life.

And you wanted it for longer than your human life would give you.

Vampires were always portrayed as cold and dark, but everything Ryan and his friends showed you was that they were everything but. And sure happily ever afters were something for books, but you had an actual real opportunity for that right there in front of you.

But Ryan didn’t have to tell you for you to know he didn’t want to turn you.

Despite living together, he did everything he could to hide when he was drinking blood that wasn’t yours, he never brought up being a vampire, and he never brought up any of your human differences.

But the longer you were together…

You hated how you could count your wrinkles and were starting to get grey hairs and your bones cracked when you stood. You were still young, especially in Ryan’s eyes, but you were getting older. You could feel it and you could see it. You wouldn’t have hated half as much as you did if Ryan was getting older with you, but he was still a perfectly preserved twenty-five year old and you were aging without him.

He was going to outlive you, but he didn’t have to.

It took you two years after moving in together to finally get the courage to ask him to turn you.

To say Ryan took it poorly would be an understatement.

Ryan loved you more than he had ever love anyone, more than he thought he could love anyone. His world started and ended with you. And it was because of that, that he couldn’t turn you.

You were kind and beautiful and perfect. Losing you… It would be worse than death, that was a promise, but he loved you too much to be selfish like that. He couldn’t take your humanity. He wouldn’t.

And he made that very clear.

“Do not ask me again,” he said slowly but firmly.

“Ryan—” You started, but he cut you off.

“No,” he said firmly, banging his fist on the kitchen counter. “This isn’t a fucking movie. This is real life and it’s forever. I will never turn you, understand? This isn’t a negotiation. The answer is no, and it’s final.” He didn’t wait for you to reply, just walked out of the kitchen and headed towards the front door.

You and Ryan didn’t fight much, but when you did, it always sucked. But this… This was by far the worst.

You heard the front door open and close as he left and your shoulders slouched forwards with guilt and regret. You never wanted to pick a fight with him, you just… Wanted him forever.

Ryan didn’t come back home until late that night. You weren’t asleep, but you pretended to be as he stepped into the bedroom. He got undressed as quietly as he could before slipping under the covers. He knew you were awake but he didn’t say anything, just laid there with you.

You relaxed at his presence and smiled softly into your pillow. Sleep came easier with Ryan by your side and when you woke, you were in his arms, having drifted back to him in your sleep.

Neither of you mentioned the fight the next day.

It hurt, but you pretended it didn’t. You saw Ryan as your soulmate and you wanted that eternity with him, and he could give it to you, but he was choosing not to.

He loved you, you believed that. He just didn’t love you enough to turn you. But, for Ryan, he loved you too much to doom you to an eternal existence of decay.

Humanity wasn’t perfect, Ryan knew that first hand, but it was also beautiful and everything he was robbed of. He would never be able to live a human life, but you could, and that wasn’t something he was going to take from you. Watching you die might kill him too, but if it meant seeing you live a full human life, he accepted it.

--

Ryan never asked you to marry him because legally he didn’t exist and any mention of marriage pulled a weird reaction from him. But that was okay because you didn’t need to be married to him to know that he loved you and that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. A piece of paper wasn’t going to change how you felt for him.

So, instead of looking for rings, he started looking at houses.

The penthouse was great and he loved looking over the city every day, but it was his space and he wanted something that both of you loved, something distinctly yours together and not his.

There were a lot of really nice houses on the market right now and it didn’t take him long to find one that he thought you’d like.

“Can you take a look at his?” He asked you, passing his phone over. You gave him a confused look but picked up his phone, your confusion increasing when you saw it was a house listing.

“What is this?” You asked him after flipping through the pictures. It was really nice, but you weren’t looking for a house, were you?

Ryan gave you a soft smile and took your free hand into his, threading your fingers together. “I thought,” he whispered. “That a place just for us, where we could grow and love together would be nice.”

You slowly put his phone down as you looked at him, feeling the tears gather in your eyes. “I-I, yes,” you whispered. “I would love that.”

Ryan’s thumb traced over the back of your hand as his smile widened. “I found a few listings I thought you might like,” he told you and you pushed yourself up from where you were curled up on the couch to sit next to him and handed his phone back to him so he could show you the others, all sorts of butterflies settling in your chest as you looked at the listings and pictured you and Ryan in every room.

It wasn’t a desperate search, neither you or Ryan were religiously scrolling through all the new listings in the city to find something. You were happy in the penthouse and if it took a couple years to find the perfect house, that was okay.

It was mostly Ryan who looked at the listings, something to do at night while you slept, and it was nice to sit around the breakfast nook with your cup of coffee in the morning while Ryan showed you the ones he found and he told you what he imagined with each one. Dancing in the open kitchen, curling up on a large couch under the big living room windows, the gatherings you could host with the large dining room. You wanted everything he described. You wanted it so bad.

“I think this looks really nice,” Ryan told you, handing his phone over to you. It was a listing for a house much larger than you ever thought you’d own. You flicked through the pictures and you had to admit he was right, it was really nice.

It had a beautiful open floor plan with five bedrooms on a second floor and looking through the pictures you couldn’t help but picture raising a family with Ryan. But as quick as that thought came, you pushed it out. You were never having kids with Ryan and you were okay with that; Ryan was all you needed, all you wanted.

“A little big for us,” you told him, handing the phone back.

Ryan nodded and took his phone back and he was careful to not show you something that big again. Something a little smaller that was warm and cozy was the way to go.

It was a few weeks later that he showed you a listing that he said he really, really liked.

Looking through the pictures, you could see exactly why he liked it so much. The house was beautiful, completely remodelled but still with a touch of almost Victorian character. But the selling point of the house was that it was close to schools and parks, had a fenced yard, and all the bedrooms were on the same floor.

“I don’t think we need three bedrooms,” you told him, looking up from the listing.

“One for us,” he counted. “A guest room for your family or friends or my friends to have their own space even if they don’t sleep, and the third bedroom I think would make a wonderful library.”

You softened at the mention of a library. You always wanted one but never thought you’d actually have one. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of your own personal library filled with all your favourites books and used books with worn covers you picked up from a used book store or a flea market. You could put a chair in the corner and happily curl up in there every day.

“I really love that idea,” you told him honestly.

Ryan smiled, “I’ll call the real estate agent and set up a viewing.”  

The viewing was arranged for a few days later and you knew as soon as you walked through the door that this was the place.

The hardwood floors were gorgeous and the entry was amazing with a beautiful staircase leading up to the second floor. The house had an open kitchen and living but also a den with a cozy fireplace, a formal dinning room and a fenced in yard with a patio and fire pit. Upstairs, the master was amazing with two walk in closets and the master bath was to die for with an oversized walk in shower and a soaker tub that Ryan could fit into—you know because you made him sit in it to see.

The guest room also had an ensuite and the third bedroom had a bay window that you could picture yourself sitting in as you read.

You were completely in love with the house and Ryan could see it in your eyes. Seeing you happy made him happy and he decided that it didn’t matter how many offers he had to outbid or how much over asking he had to pay, he was going to get you this house, and he made that abundantly clear to the real estate agent.

The lucky thing was that Ryan had more than sufficient funds and he was making an all cash offer so it only took a bit of negotiation before the sellers accepted the offer and when you got the phone call the house was yours, you were so happy you could cry.

Ryan held his arms open to you with a bright smile and you flung yourself at him. He caught you easily, holding you to his chest before picking you up and spinning you around.

“We have a house,” you told him, still smiling.

“We have a house,” he echoed back, moving his hands up to cup your cheeks before he kissed you, both of you smiling into it. You hugged him tightly, completely wrapped up in a dream that was quickly becoming a reality.

When you pulled yourself back from his arms, it was only to run to the fridge to pull out the bottle of champagne you bought for this exact reason.

“Let me,” Ryan said, gently taking the bottle from you and you got the glasses down as he opened the bottle, giggling at the popping of the cork. Ryan filled the glasses and handed you yours before picking his up. “To our new house,” he said, clinking his glass against yours.

“To our new house,” you repeat, and for just a moment you forgot that it wasn’t a forever house where you and Ryan were going to grow old together.

When it came to packing up the penthouse, you actually had a harder time than Ryan. It might have been Ryan’s penthouse and he might have lived there longer, but he had lived in a lot of places and he learned a long time ago to never get attached to a place because he could never be there long. Meanwhile, packing up the penthouse all you saw were all the memories you had there.

The time he told you he was a vampire.

The first time you said “I love you” to each other.

Your first real fight and the amazing make up sex that followed.

The candlelight dinner he made for your anniversary.

The penthouse was a scrapbook of your relationship together and as excited as you were to start the next chapter of your lives together, it was going to be hard to say goodbye to this place.

Moving day was beyond stressful for you and Ryan did his best to keep you calm as the moving crew he hired brought everything down from the penthouse. Ryan helped with the heavier items and it was crazy how fast the penthouse emptied. Granted, most of it was yours because Ryan didn’t have a surplus of things, but it was bittersweet to see the penthouse, your home for your last several years, empty, knowing that you’d never see it again.

You took your time walking through the empty space, running your hands over the kitchen counters before you stood at the beautiful floor to ceiling windows and took in one last glance of the city skyline. Ryan didn’t rush you, just leaned against the wall by the entry and waited as long as you needed.

You took a deep breath and pulled yourself away from the window. Ryan gave you a smile as you met his eyes and he held his hand out to you as you walked towards him, towards the rest of your life with him.

Your new house wasn’t far from the penthouse and Ryan held the key out to you to unlock it, but before you could step inside, he scooped you up in his arms and carried you across the threshold, making you giggle.

All these years later and Ryan was still such a gentlemen.

You didn’t get much unpacked your first day in the house, you didn’t even get the bed set up, not that that stopped you and Ryan from christening your new house, the hardwood surprisingly didn’t hurt your back as he fucked you on the floor before you spent your first night in your house on an air mattress that was too short for Ryan.

You took your time unpacking over the next couple weeks, and somehow it was the master bedroom that ended up being the last thing you unpacked.

Ryan was out running errands so you decided you start unpacking the boxes that were piled up in your room. The furniture and clothes may have been put away, but everything else was in half unpacked boxes.

Considering they were all partially unpacked, it wasn’t that hard to go through them and finally put everything, every picture and piece of jewelry and spare bedsheets, away in their new places, just time consuming. But, it really was fulfilling to keep collapsing the packing boxes until you were down to one.

It was the very bottom box, buried under everything. It was still tapped up and unlabeled. You furrowed your brows but picked up the collapsed boxes and brought them down to recycling before grabbing a pair of scissors and making your way back upstairs.

You cut through the tape and put the scissors down next to the box before opening the flaps and you quickly realized the reason the box wasn’t labeled was because it was all Ryan’s things. There were a couple books with worn covers you took out to put with the other books in the library, a few framed pictures of you and him that you smiled as you looked at and you out them aside to put on his bedside table, and other mementoes from his past lives that he clearly valued greatly.

But, the bulk of the box was made up of another box. It was an antique box you hadn’t seen before. Besides a few scratches and worn corners, it was in excellent condition and you had to assume that it was something Ryan had for a while even though it wasn’t something you had ever seen before.

You never made a habit of snooping, especially through your partner’s things, and you weren’t going to start with the box. It was an awkward size as you took it out of the box, having to tip it against your chest to get it over the edge of the cardboard and the extra movement made the lid come loose. You carried it over to the bed to readjust how you were holding it but even putting it down as gently as you could, the lid tipped completely off.

You weren’t going to look, but as you went to put the lid back on, you realized it was full of papers and pictures. Ryan never really spoke about his past life with you and you never pushed him, but you always wondered what he was like. You never meant to snoop, but you still reached into the box to pick of the stack of pictures.

It was weird looking through the stack of black and white pictures of Ryan from the different decades, the 50s, World War I and II. He wasn’t kidding when he said he had seen more horrors than people could imagine. And through it all, he looked the exact same.

You took a shaky breath as you put the pictures down on the bed before looking back into the box. Resting against the side was a journal that didn’t look nearly as old as the rest of the contents and you took it out before reaching for the stack of aged folded papers that were carefully tied together and you gently took them out and sat them aside before looking back into the box. There was a smaller box within it that you hadn’t noticed before so you reached for it next, opening it to reveal multiple war medals that had you taking a sharp breath in.

Some weren’t dated, but others were and it was a collection from both the World Wars including a cross of valour. You took your time looking at each of them, taking in what they meant before closing the box and setting it aside.

Resting on the bottom of the box was a face down picture frame and a small gold jewelry box. You furrowed your brows as you picked the frame up and realized it was actually a two picture hinged frame that was folded over.

As soon as you opened it, you regretted it.

While the frames were newer, the pictures inside it were black and white and clearly from the nineteenth century, but that wasn’t the part that made you sick. The picture on the left was of a girl… Who looked exactly like you, and the picture on the right was of Ryan standing with her.

You couldn’t breathe as you looked at the pictures.

All these years together and you forgot the first thing he said to you.

“Mary?”

“Sorry I thought you were somebody else.”

Your heart sat in your stomach as you put the pictures down on the bed and looked back into the box for the jewelry box. You opened it to reveal a necklace and a set of rings. Wedding rings. And the necklace matched the one in the pictures.

You struggled to take breath in as you looked back at the pictures. It was scary just how much she looked like you, or how much you looked like her. Ryan never mentioned any exes, let alone a dead wife that looked like you.

You reached for the stack of carefully folded papers and as you undid them, you realized it was a stack of letters between him and “My Dearest Mary.” You didn’t read all of them, you couldn’t bear to read all of them, but you read enough to know just how much he truly loved her and how much she loved him back and it made you feel more nauseous than you already were.

Was any part of the last five years real to him? Or was he just using you to replace his dead wife? Did he love you? Or did he just love her?

All this time and he still had the pictures and all the letters and her necklace and their wedding rings. You were moving into what Ryan called your ‘forever home’ together and all this time he had a wife that he never told you about that looked exactly like you and he was going to put her things somewhere in the house?

A replacement. You felt like a replacement.

Of course you reached for the journal again, expecting to find journal entries about her. You opened the book a few pages in but you didn’t find journal entries, you found poetry written in Ryan’s familiar handwriting, and somehow that was worse.

There is only one place I feel both

So happy about everything that’s happened,

But so full of grief of what’s to come:

Your eyes

~

Time.

Right time,

Wrong time,

Never enough time,

Time.

It was the root of all evil.

~

The sun is beautiful to the earth,

But her? She’s my sun.

All that I am revolves around her.

I guess that makes me the Earth.

The place of death and destruction.

~

Everyone has a home,

A place that brings them warmth and comfort;

A place to belong.

I’ve spent so long learning to belong everywhere and nowhere,

I didn’t realize a home

Wasn’t necessarily a structure

With four walls and roof.

My home wasn’t a place,

It was her

Every line only hurt you more.

You didn’t even know that Ryan wrote poetry but now the words of beautiful and heart wrenching poems were staring back at you and you just knew they were about Mary.

Which meant that he was still in love with her.

You didn’t know you were crying until a tear hit the page and the ink bled into the water as you quickly reached up to wipe the rest away before closing the book, not wanting to ruin his journal any more than you already had.

It didn’t matter how much you wiped your eyes, the tears kept coming, so eventually you stopped trying to wipe them away, just let them run down your cheeks as you picked the framed pictures back up, your finger lightly tracing over the glass as you looked at him and her.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear Ryan come home or call your name or walk up the stairs to the master bedroom. He heard you crying as he came up the stairs and he quickened his pace before turning into the master and freezing in his step.

You were sitting on the bed surrounding by all his things, some of which he hadn’t seen in years. His eyes widened as he trailed over everything, the pictures, the letters, the rings. He hadn’t seen any of them in a while, a long while. He used to take them out all the time to look at, read the letters over and over, but he hadn’t done any of that since he met you.

He said your name softly as he walked into the room, holding his hands up in surrender but before he could say anything else, you looked up at him with tears streaming down your face. “Are you still in love with her?” You asked him.

Ryan shook his head. “No,” he whispered, but you didn’t believe him.

“Don’t lie to me,” you said, your chest tight. “You’ve lied to me a lot, don’t lie about this.”

“I’m not lying,” he assured you, but it made a wave of anger go through you.

“I read the poems, Ryan,” you told him, your voice raising a little before it softened back out. “I read them. So don’t try to tell me that you don’t love her when I read all the beautiful and raw and heartbreaking content of that book.”

Ryan jerked his head back in confusion before crossing the room to pick the journal up. “This book?” He asked slowly.

“Yes,” you replied, not looking at him.

Ryan nodded, “the book that has your name on the front page? You’re telling me you think the book with your name in it is about Mary?” You looked up at him in confusion. You didn’t look at the first page, didn’t look at the first couple pages. Ryan opened the book to show you the front page and sure enough your name was staring back at you in the dedication. “Everything in this book, I wrote about you,” he told you. “I… I understand why you would think overwise, it being with the other things. They weren’t together in my penthouse, I promise, just we were moving and I didn’t want you to find the book because I thought that you’d find it, I don’t know, pathetic? Tacky?”

Part of you struggled to wrap your head around the poetry being about you and you wanted to apologize for snapping at him, but for most of you, the poetry being about you, as beautiful as it was, meant nothing. He still had all her things, their wedding things, and you still looked like his dead wife.

“I look like her,” you said, glancing down at the picture in your hand.

“I—” he started, not completely sure what to say, but you cut him off and your words made his heart break all over again.

“Am I a replacement?” You asked, your voice thick with anguish.

“No,” Ryan said quickly and he knelt in front of you so he was eye level with you, not that you met his eyes, not that his words convinced you.

“Has anything been real between us?” Your throat was tight as you held back your sobs, making every word you spoke hurt.

“Yes,” he said firmly, taking the pictures from you and folding them back before putting them back in the box. He took your hands into his and you hated that you wanted to pull away from him. “You are not her and you never were to me, okay?” He told you. “Yes, I wanted to know you because you reminded me of her, but you are so different from her and I fell in love with who you are.” He paused, “I don’t see her when I look at you, okay? I see you, the woman I love.”

His words made you cry harder so he pulled you to his chest, letting you cry into him as he held you. You loved Ryan more than everyone, more than life, and you weren’t expecting to hear that from him, especially after seeing everything.

Ryan looked over your head at the pictures and letters and it broke his heart that you had to find out like this. He never wanted you to find out at all, and he knew it was wrong, there were so many times he thought about telling you, but he was terrified that he’d lose you over it. He couldn’t imagine how it would feel to find out that you looked like his dead wife, so he hoped he never had to tell you.

It was foolish of him to think that, and he knew it.

You pulled back from his chest and he instantly cupped your cheek, his thumbs brushing your tears away. “I’ll tell you all of it, if you want to know. But,” he gives you a small smile. “I’ve had a long time to process my grief, okay? You and I were always real, that I promise you.” His voice was firm as he begged you to believe him.

And you did.

You nodded and leaned into his touch. “Okay,” you whispered. “Tell me about your old life. Tell me about… Her.”

Ryan nodded and brushed the letters aside to make enough room to sit down next to you before reaching into the box to pull the pictures back out. He opened them back up and the corner of his lip twitched up before he looked back at you. “It doesn’t hurt to talk about anymore,” he told you.

He paused, trying to figure out where to start. “I met Mary when I was twenty-two,” he told you. “Our families set it up actually, you know, because that’s how it was back then. We only met a few times before we got married.” He laughed softly we he looked back at the pictures, “it was pretty rocky at first as we tried to figure out marriage like any young people would. And it didn’t help that I had to keep leaving for work. I was trying to become a member of Parliament then,” he explained before putting the pictures down and reaching for the letters. “Honestly, most of our relationship was in these letters, which is why I kept them all these years. It was a collection, a scrapbook, of our relationship and our love. Proof that it was real.”

Ryan met your eyes as he looked up from the letters and you reached over to give his thigh a squeeze. “We were only together for three years before I got turned, before I died,” he told you, and he let his words hang in the air for another moment. You and him had been together longer than he was with her.

“I’m not going to sit here and tell you that I didn’t love her. I loved her with my entire being, and I felt like that for a long, long time. Having to leave her… Having to watch her think I was dead… Having to watch her die… It was the hardest thing I have ever done. But I’ve grieved her and I don’t… I don’t feel the way I did before. The love I had for her is different from the love I have for you. I promise.”

He let you take the letters from him and you smiled, “it does seem like you two loved each other very much.” He smiled at your words and nodded. You paused before asking, “why didn’t you go back to her after you were turned?”

Ryan sighed. “I was a newborn. Everything was heightened, I didn’t have a teacher to teach me how to be a vampire, my impulse control was nonexistent, and how was I supposed to explain to her that I was a monster? I couldn’t… I couldn’t do that to her,” he told you, shaking his head.

“You’re not a monster Ryan,” you told him firmly, putting the letters aside to squeeze his hand.

He smiled and gave a short nod before lifting your hand to kiss the inside of your wrist, “I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” you told him. And you meant it. Maybe you were crazy for still loving him after you found out that you looked like his dead wife, but you believed everything he told you.

The first time you met at the park, he walked away from you. If he had wanted to use you to replace Mary, he wouldn’t have walked away from you. And he never rushed into anything with you. He took his time getting to know you after meeting again in the bookstore before he asked you out on a real date and he put his foot down on not wanting to turn you. If he wanted you to take Mary’s place, you couldn’t imagine he’d have done any of that, so you believed him.

“Not possible,” Ryan told you with a smile, giving your wrist another kiss. He wasn’t lying when he said that the love he had for you was different from the love he had for Mary. Mary would always hold a piece of his heart as his first love, but that’s what she was. She was his first love and she taught him a lot about love and life, but she wasn’t his true love. He didn’t love her like he loved you.

The corner of your lip twitched up and you pulled your wrist free to loop around his neck and you leaned in to kiss him. It was soft but deep and Ryan did his absolute best to pour of his love into the kiss, needing you to understand that it was you, it was always you.

“I’m so in love with you,” he whispered when he pulled back, kissing your wrist again. He was so in love with you it hurt. No matter what happened between you two, no matter how much time had passed, Ryan knew deep in his bones, he was always going to love you as much as he did right now. Nothing would ever change that.

You gave him a smile as he laid your wrist down to your lap before putting the pictures back into the box. You watched as he took the pile of letters and carefully folded them. He took his time putting everything except the journal back into the box the way he wanted before putting the lid back on. “You’re welcome to go through it, any and all of it, if you want,” he told you as he carried it to the ‘his’ of the ‘his and hers’ master closets and put it on the top shelf. “I need you to know that. But I hope that what we share is enough that you don’t feel the need to go through something that happened nearly two centuries ago.”

You nodded when he turned back to you. “I’m not going to lie to you and say that I’ll never want to read all of the letters or see your wedding rings, because I don’t know what the future will bring. But I want to believe that you love me and that will be enough because I love you so, so much, Ryan,” you told him. “I love you so much I want it to be forever.”

Ryan gave you a sad smile and chose to skip over your choice of words. “Me too,” he whispered, sitting back down next to you. He covered your hand with his and used his thumb to trace circles on the back of your hand. “Let’s go downstairs, okay? Get you a glass of water, something to eat?”

You nodded, the exhaustion from putting everything away and the emotional turmoil starting to hit you. The thought of food made you nauseous, but a glass of water would help the headache you had from crying. You let Ryan guide you down the stairs and you sat at the island while Ryan got you a glass of water.

The kitchen was quiet, the only sound being your breathing and the sound of Ryan putting the glass down. You took tiny sips of your water while Ryan leaned back against the counter.

You were both quiet before Ryan cleared his throat, “do you want pizza for dinner?” He asked.

You shook your head, “I’m okay, thanks. I think I’m going to pass on dinner and just take a nap. Maybe I’ll be hungry after.”

“Right, yeah, of course,” he nodded, pulling at the elastic in his hair so it fell around his shoulders before pulling it back up. “Rest will be good, the last couple weeks have been exhausting.”

“Yeah, exactly,” you nodded, taking another sip of your water before getting up and heading back upstairs. You closed the door behind you and your eyes immediately drifted to his closet. You swallowed and stared at the open door and walked over to close it before getting into bed and pulling the blankets up to your shoulders.

You closed your eyes and you wanted to fall asleep, sleep off the mix of emotions you were feeling, but every time you closed your eyes, you saw the pictures and the letters and you couldn’t stop thinking. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking.

About Ryan, about Mary, about you, about you and Ryan.

You thought yourself asleep, the exhausting hitting you like a truck and you fell into a dreamless sleep. When you woke, the sky was black and you were clutching Ryan’s pillow to your chest, Ryan having never come to bed.

You couldn’t lie and say that the next couple weeks weren’t a little strained between you and Ryan. You believed everything he told you, believed that he loved you and that he was over Mary, but your whole world had shifted and you needed time to really process that.

But the longer you thought about it, the more sure you became that you and Ryan really were soulmates.

When you met him, you were so sure you had met him before when you hadn’t, he always felt warm and familiar to you in those first weeks when you were still getting to know each other, and you were never afraid of him after he told you he was a vampire, hell you even let him drink from you.

The pictures were confusing, but maybe the reason it felt like you had known him before was because you did.

You couldn’t remember meeting him before and the pictures and the letters were completely foreign to you, but you knew it deep in your bones that you were made for him.

Yet, no matter how much you asked him, he wouldn’t turn you.

At first you brought it up in passing, but Ryan kept brushing it off. Sometimes he told you to drop it, other times he simply didn’t answer you at all. Either way, it frustrated the hell out of you.

It enraged you.

You were made for each other and your souls had met each other not once but twice, showing you that you and him were supposed to be together forever and yet he wouldn’t give you that forever and you just couldn’t understand why.

The fight started small, but the more the years dragged on…

A hundred and fifty years ago he watched his wife die and now he’d rather watch you die than turn you and you couldn’t understand why. Was forever with you so bad that he’d rather watch you die than turn you?

The more he said no to you, the more it angered you. Like any couple, you and Ryan had your disagreements, but you never fought like this. But then again, it was literally a fight about life and death.

You could see and feel every way you had aged over your eight years together while Ryan stayed the pristine twenty five year old you met at the park. But now your thirtieth birthday was around the corner and you were sick and tired of being so much older than him. You were sick of adding another candle to the birthday cake while your bones cracked and more wrinkles gathered around your eyes and he stayed never a day over twenty five.

Eight years together, three years of asking him to turn you, but he never wavered in his stance that he’d never turn you.

Losing you would be worse than death, that was a promise, but he couldn’t turn you. He didn’t want this kind of like for you, and no matter how many times you tried to convince him otherwise, he never changed his mind. All it did was end in the same stupid fight.

This time in the perfect kitchen of your perfect forever home that you refused to call your forever home, holding onto every sliver of hope that it wouldn’t be; that you’d be forced to move on from such a beautiful home which wouldn’t sadden you because you would have Ryan and that’s all that would matter to you.

It started small, just an off hand comment, but of course it didn’t stay small, not when Ryan kept ignoring you. You, quite literally, were not getting any younger and yet Ryan thought it was better to just plant himself like a tree instead of trying to see your side of it and it hurt. A lot. So, yeah, maybe you did raise your voice more than you needed to.

“Then turn me!” You shouted.

“You’d have to leave everything behind do you realize that? Once everyone notices you aren’t aging? You have to uproot your life and start somewhere new with a new identity. You’d be giving up your friends, your family, the life you have now. All your hard work in college, everything. You’d be throwing it all away to be what? A dead thing like me who relies on blood and has watched everyone I loved die? No, that’s not fair to you and I know you, you’d regret your decision so no. I’m not turning you,” he replied, his voice rising as he put his hand down on the island with more force than you expected, jumping slightly at the sound. If your reaction upset him, he didn’t show it.

“It’s not your decision to make! And I wouldn’t regret it, Ryan. If you knew me you know I wouldn’t so don’t pull that shit with me,” you argued back, pleading for what felt like the hundredth time. “Do you not love me? If you loved me, you’d want to spend your life with me but instead you want to watch me die,” you said, keeping your voice even. You were knocking on the door of thirty, but what are people going to say when you’re forty? Fifty?

You wanted more than anything to just spend forever with him. You didn’t want to get old and frail and while he never changed, and you could not have him watch you get old and then die.

“It is my decision to make because I’m the only one who could do it. I love you more than enough to not put you through the hell I’ve dealt with. I had my humanity stolen for me. I didn’t ask for this life! I don’t want to be this... This monster but I am. And I am not turning the most beautiful precious thing in my life into this,” he hissed, gesturing to himself.

You… You were beautiful and perfect and human and he wouldn’t—couldn’t—take that from you, couldn’t turn you into the lifeless creature he was. Couldn’t ruin you like that.

You softened immediately at his words, some of the fight leaving you as you walked around the island to cover his hand with yours. Like always, his skin was cool to your touch, but you found it comforting. “You’re not a monster, Ryan,” you whispered. “I’ve never seen you as a monster and I never will. I get that you didn’t ask for this, but I am. I don’t want to see myself get old while you stay perfect. I don’t want to be old and frail and people think you’re my son or worse, my grandson. I want you, and I want it to be forever. I’ve always wanted you forever.”

Ryan couldn’t meet your eyes while he shook his head and you sighed, shaking your own head as you pulled your hand away. “You say you don’t want to take my humanity away, but do you know what humanity could do? What if I get sick? What if I get hit by a car? I could die by almost anything and then it’ll be too late for you to turn me and then neither of us get what we want. I’ll be human and dead. You should turn me now when I’m strong so we could be together.”

“And you could die from me turning you,” he replied, his usually warm voice cold. “And that’s a risk I can’t take. I love you, please understand this, this is so much more complicated and I can’t… I love you too much to turn you.”

“It’s not that complicated, Ryan,” you rolled your eyes, walking back around the kitchen to keep the island between you. It’s the same fight again and again and again and it’s so frustrating because it’s not getting you anywhere, every fight ends the same no matter how many times you two hash it out, both of you hoping the other will finally cave.

You were quiet for a moment. “I want it to be you, but if you won’t, I’m sure I can find someone who will,” you whisper, not able to meet his eyes. You knew his friends and you had a few of their numbers. If he wouldn’t, maybe one of them would, and if they wouldn’t, they would at least be the door to a network of vampires and somewhere there would be one that would turn you.

“Don’t.” His voice went hard, “don’t you dare do that.” He was mad the whole fight but that comment struck a chord in him and he was livid even thinking about it, about some other vampire’s teeth in your throat, turning you or draining you. “That’s such an irresponsible thing to say, do you know how many other vampires would end up taking advantage of you and drinking you dry? No. You’re smarter than that, so just don’t,” his voice was firm as he shook his head, his fingers curling around the edge of the counter.

“I can’t keep having this fight, so maybe I will. Either they turn me, or I die a human. Either way, one of us gets what they want,” you whispered, exhausted over years of the same fight, with him refusing to give the two of you that forever. You never thought about going to another vampire. You knew that some of them are not as nice as Ryan and his friends, and you could never trust another vampire to bite you. Ryan… Ryan control himself and he never took more than he needed when you let him bite you, but someone else? He was right, you didn’t know what they would do. But, after years of going in circles, you were frustrated enough to say it, even if you didn’t mean it.

Ryan banged his fist on the tabletop, sick and tired of you trying to guilt him into turning you. You could die for real, and even if you did survive, you’d be dead. “And I can’t keep having this fight either. So, I guess we’re at a crossroad because neither of us are going to see eye to eye on this,” he whispered defeatedly.

It didn’t matter how many times he told you he didn’t want to turn you, didn’t want to kill you, didn’t want you to bear the sins of being a vampire, you never respected his answer. You just kept pushing him and pushing him, waiting for him to bend and it was killing him.  

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it.

He had, more times than he could count.

It wasn’t like he could sleep, so he spent countless nights awake in bed while you slept in his arms. You always called him a perfect pillow because he didn’t breathe and he could stay still for hours on end, and you got to stay wrapped in his arms. For years you struggled to sleep, but you never had a bad dream or restless night if Ryan was there.

And while you slept peacefully in his arms, he would sometimes think about turning you.

He thought about getting that perfect forever you always thought about, always told him about. He thought about dancing in the kitchen with you to your favourite song today that would be beyond out of date in a century. He thought about getting to see your smile every single day and traveling the world together, living in any city you could have ever dreamed about with no timeframe because time no longer applied to the two of you.

But he’s also thought about you dying in his arms. He’s thought about having to plan your funeral and you never getting to see your friends and family again. He’s thought about you growing to hate him for turning you and robbing you of your humanity.

He couldn’t turn you, couldn’t hurt you like that.

He couldn’t.

But he couldn’t lose either.

He never thought he could ever love anyone the way he loved Mary and he promised himself he’d never love another human. But you… You came without warning to him and he loved you differently, more, than Mary, and he wouldn’t change a thing about it. He couldn’t imagine his life without you, didn’t want to imagine his life without you by his side. But he couldn’t be the one to take your humanity.

It killed him because either way, he loses.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Like always.”

Ryan shook his head and walked out of the room like so many times before.

He didn’t say a word to you for the rest of the night, but it wasn’t like you were itching to talk to him either.

Still, when you came out of the master bathroom after getting ready for bed, Ryan was sitting against the headboard in his underwear, his hair hanging loose around his shoulders. No matter how bad the fight got, Ryan wasn’t going to let you go to bed alone. He was mad, but he wasn’t petty.

Your thirtieth birthday was two weeks later and Ryan woke you up with breakfast in bed. It was a lovely breakfast, everything just the way you liked it and you gave him a soft smile as you thanked him.

After you were finished and he moved the tray over to his nightstand, he handed you a Tiffany’s box. Of course it was a beautiful diamond bracelet and you knew it was expensive. “Thank you,” you told him again and you let him put the bracelet on but as soon as he looked down at your wrist, your smile dropped a little.

Ryan was so sweet and he was doing everything he could to spoil you and show you how much he loved you, but it was killing you because all you could think about was how you were another year older than him and expensive jewelry wasn’t going to cover up what today really meant.

He wanted to take you out for your birthday, have a nice lunch together, take you shopping and get you ice cream before bringing you to the restaurant you had your first real date at, but it was clear that you weren’t up for any of that.

Thirty wasn’t a scary number. You weren’t having a freak out about your youth being over, it was just another in a never ending list of milestones you could never take back.

So, instead of taking you out, the two of you stayed in, watched some movies, not that you really focused on them because you couldn’t stop thinking about how still his chest was.

When it came time for dinner, Ryan cooked for you. Cooking was never something he was good at, never something he had to be good at, but over the last eight years together, Ryan taught himself for you. Like always, it tasted amazing. And if you had a whole bottle of wine instead of a glass, Ryan didn’t hold it against you.

It hurt him to see you unhappy, and that was exactly why he couldn’t turn you.

You ended up falling asleep on the couch so Ryan scooped you up into his arms and carried you to bed. He was careful to not wake you and he shimmied your pants and socks off because he knew you didn’t like to sleep in them before he got ready for bed and slipped in beside you and tried to not be hurt when you snuggled into your pillow instead of him.

--

You never thought about having another vampire turn you, it was an empty threat and you were almost sure he knew that.

But you were doing some cleaning and decided to organize your purses and a crumpled and worn piece of paper fell out of one of your clutches. Your brows furrowed as you picked it up, a simple white business card with a single number written on it in little black numbers.

“I’ve known Ryan a long time. Being a vampire is… Complicated at best and I know sometimes it’s hard to answer questions, so if you ever have a question you don’t want to ask Ryan, please feel free to shoot me a text.”

It had been years since you saw him, but you could still picture him in your head. Your stomach twisted as you looked at the card and you knew you should throw it out, but you walked over and put it in the drawer of your nightstand before finishing up with your purses.

You tried to forget about the card, but you couldn’t.

You didn’t know if the number still worked or if he would turn you or if he’d tattle you off to Ryan and if he did, you had no idea how Ryan would react.

But maybe it did still work, maybe he would turn you, maybe he wouldn’t tell Ryan, and maybe you could be a vampire without making Ryan turn you and then you two could be together outside the constraints of humanity.

Those what ifs and maybes ate at you for weeks until you finally pulled the card out of your nightstand. Your fingers shook as you pulled the number into your phone, not bothering to give it a contact name as you hit the message bar.

You watched the blinking curser bar thinking about what to even say. You closed and opened and closed and opened the app before you finally typed, William?

You put your phone face down on your nightstand and tried to ignore it and go on with your day, but your heart wouldn’t calm down in your chest. It took several hours, but sure enough, William was still using that number.

Who is this? He texted back.

You shouldn’t. You knew you shouldn’t. But you couldn’t help yourself. You sent him your first name and followed it up with Ryan’s partner.

Ah, right! Lovely to hear from you after all this time. I hope the years are treating you well. What can I do for you? He replied, his words feeling like a thousand little paper cuts on your heart.

Your fingers moved on their own accord, I want to be a vampire.

It only took a moment for him to reply, Ryan hasn’t turned you yet?

He doesn’t want to, you sent back. But I want to be a vampire.

The text thread was quiet for a few minutes before he asked, so, you’re looking for someone to turn you? You weren’t. But, for some reason, you told him you were. Okay, he texted you. I would be happy to turn you. You and Ryan deserve each other for all eternity.

You played the cold shiver off as excitement.

You continued to text William to set up a time and place. He agreed to come to the city a few weeks later and you were to meet him at his hotel room.

The next couple weeks went both slowly and too quickly and Ryan could tell something was up, but you were quick to brush him off and replace it with some cliché human activity. You were anxious to become like him and with the date set, you were going to soak in every last moment of your human life.

You were going to commit to memory the way Ryan’s hands felt on your skin and how the rain was cold and hot coffee burnt your tongue. You were going to enjoy how it felt to take a deep breath or how that super expensive pasta from your guilty pleasure restaurant tasted.

And Ryan… You were so happy. It finally felt like the two of you were past that endless argument and you were able to enjoy your humanity and all the gifts that came with it. Ryan was so happy that you were happy and enjoying all the little things in life that he never looked deeper. He just took your hand and shared a smile and enjoyed it with you.

Your time together was limited, you had been together for almost a decade and it felt like time was slipping through his fingers so it didn’t matter if it was dancing with you in the rain or kissing you until you had to pull back to catch your breath, he did all of it with a smile on his face, his body feeling warm despite the icy coldness.

And then the day finally rolled around.

You picked it because Ryan was meeting Gabe and Mel, meaning that he wouldn’t be home to see you slip off to the expensive hotel William told you he was at.

After Ryan left, you took your time getting ready. You know it was stupid, that it was probably going to be messy and you were going to die so you should wear something you didn’t mind losing, but you saw the whole thing as the beginning of eternity and you wanted to look your best for it. So, yeah, you did take your time doing your hair and make up and you picked out a nice outfit to wear.

You slipped your shoes on and had your hand on the front door before you walked back to the kitchen island. You didn’t know what compelled you but you put the card with William’s number on the empty island before walking over to the junk drawer. You grabbed the stack of sticky notes and a pen and wrote the address to the hotel along with the room number, and that you loved him. You stuck the sticky note to the card and let out a deep breath, your thumb tracing over your writing before you headed back for the front door and slipped out.

Your hands shook as you drove to the hotel and your body moved on autopilot as you made your way up to the room number. It was on the top floor, tucked away in the far corner of the hotel and you ignored the uneasy feeling settling in your gut as you knocked on the door.

It only took a moment for William to answer, looking the exact same as he did seven years ago. He gave you a smile that did nothing to comfort you, “so lovely to see you again, please come in.” He stepped aside to let you in and your heart picked up as soon as the door closed behind you and you knew he could hear it. “Did Ryan explain to you how vampires are turned?”

You shook your head, “no, he didn’t.”

The corner of William’s lip twitched up but he quickly dropped it as he stepped around you to sit on the couch of his suite. “Okay, then we should go over that now, yeah?”

You swallowed and nodded before sitting down next to him, “yeah.”

William cleared his throat, “I have to bite you in the neck, deeply. I won’t lie to you, it is going to hurt.”

That lined up with almost every vampire depiction, so you didn’t question it. “I can take it,” you told him, taking a deep breath and straightening your shoulders.

“I have no doubt you can,” he tells you before putting his hand on your thigh. “You must love Ryan a great deal to do this for him.”

“I want a forever with him,” you replied with a soft smile.

William’s smile sharpened. “Such a shame you won’t get that, darling,” he said, digging his fingers into your thigh so you couldn’t get up.

Your heart beat in your ears. “What?” You asked, your voice breathy.

“I’ve been so patient,” he explained, giving you a chesire grin. “Biding my time to get revenge on dear Ryan, waiting for him to fall for someone else. But, you see, he never did. He really did love Mary and, between you and me, I don’t think he ever got over her. But, then again, you truly are a perfect copy of her.” It felt like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over you and you knew that you had made a mistake, that Ryan was right. You should never have gone to another vampire.

You couldn’t say anything as William continued, his voice dangerously void of emotion, “Ryan killed my wife in 1832, and it took two hundred years, but now I’m finally going to kill his.”

Your chest rose and fell quickly as you hyperventilated, but William’s grip only tightened on your thigh as he turned to face you, his other hand reaching up to cup your cheek. You flinched at his touch, but didn’t dare to blink

“Oh, darling,” he said condescendingly. “It’s only going to hurt a lot.”

--

Ryan knew something was off as soon as he came home, a little earlier than he was expecting.

The house was too quiet and he could feel it deep in his bones that something wasn’t right. Anxiety ran through him as he searched the house for you, doing a quick loop of the main floor before taking the stairs two at a time, but you weren’t there. You weren’t anywhere. Ryan ran a hand through his hair as he tried to tell himself that it was fine, you probably just went for a walk or had to grab something from the store, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t.

He just knew that something was deeply wrong.

He walked back to the kitchen and his eyes landed on a sticky note on the island that wasn’t there when he left earlier.

Written on it in your handwriting were three words that had his still heart dropping: I love you. Below it was a hotel address and room number. He furrowed his brows and picked the sticky note up and saw it was stuck to a worn business card with a single row of text on it. A phone number. A phone number he recognized.

His heart dropped to his stomach and he grabbed his keys before running out of the house.

He had to find you before it’s too late.

He drove to the hotel as quickly as he could, ignoring the horns as he swerved around cars. He didn’t bother looking for a parking spot, just pulled up to the hotel and put the car in park before rushing into the hotel. He hit the button for the elevator before looking down at the sticky note. As soon as the doors opened, he hit the button for the top floor and held the close doors button all the way up, wishing the elevator went faster.

Once the doors opened, he looked at the directory before running down the hall, praying it wasn’t too late. But as soon as he got to the suite, he could smell your blood through the door.

His cold body felt like ice as he gripped the door and pressed down, using all his strength to break through the lock and pushed the door open.

You were pressed against the wall opposite of the couch with William’s teeth in your throat. Ryan felt his eyes turn to blood as he stepped towards you, his fingers curling around William’s shoulder as he ripped him off you, tossing him to the floor before putting his body between you two. As conniving as William was, Ryan easily outsized him and the anger running through his body only made him seem bigger as he curled his hands into fists.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Prince Charming himself,” William smiled, your blood coating his teeth and Ryan restrained a gag. Whether it was the blood lust or his ego, it didn’t matter, but William pushed himself back up. “Such a shame, she really did love you.”

Ryan didn’t hesitate, reaching out to grip his jaw and neck before quickly twisting and letting William’s body drop to the floor with a thud. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would put him down for now.

Ryan turned back to you, all the fight leaving his body as he saw that you slid down the wall and slumped back against the floor, too weak to support yourself. You could barely feel your body, your limbs cold and heavy.

Ryan let his eyes go back to their normal colour as he dropped to his knees and cupped your face, trying to make you look at him, not that you opened your eyes. “Baby? Baby, please look at me,” he pleaded, his voice breaking at how cold and dull your skin was. He knew if his heart could still beat, it would be pounding, and he gave your cheek a little tap, trying to get your attention. “Baby, please,” he whispered. “Come on, look at me.”

You thought you were dreaming when you heard his voice.

He told you it was reckless to seek someone else out, he told you that they’d rather drain you then turn you, but you didn’t listen, too desperate to become a vampire like Ryan. And of course he was right, and now you were going to die in some hotel suite because you didn’t listen.

Ryan gave your cheek another tap before giving your arm a forceful shake and you managed to get your eyes open, but you struggled so much, not being able to process what you were really looking at until you focused on his eyes. You’d know his eyes anywhere and they made some of the fear disappear.

“Ryan?” You asked, your voice sticking to your throat.

He could see it in your eyes, you were dying. “I’m right here baby. I’m here. You’re okay, I need you to stay with me, okay?” He told you, trying and failing at keeping his voice even as he slipped one arm behind your back and the other under your knees and stood up. “You’re gonna be okay, just stay awake. I need you to stay awake.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your head resting against his shoulder as he carried you to the elevator. You closed your eyes and when you opened them again, you were in the parking lot. You did your best to take deep breaths, but it was getting harder. “I didn’t listen, I’m sorry.” Your whole body felt cold and you knew it was bad, you knew that it’s your fault.  “I’m sorry,” you repeated as he put you in the front seat of his car. If you’re going to die, you need him to know you were sorry.

“Don’t—don’t. Okay? You’re gonna be fine, everything is gonna be fine,” he told you, quickly getting into the driver’s side and pulling into the road, having to make the choice to bring you to the hospital… Or bring you home.

He reached out to put his hand on your arm and your skin was so cold and he swallowed as he sped up, heading home and not to the hospital. “Just stay awake for me, okay? We’re almost home and I’m going to help you and it’s gonna be okay,” he said, steeling himself for what he knew he was going to have to do. He knew he was about to lose you; that there was no way you could survive this on your own.

You tried to keep your eyes open, but it was getting harder and harder. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice dangerously soft.

“You’re okay,” he told you, but, really, he was just talking to himself. “You’re fine. Everything is gonna be fine.” Maybe if he said it enough times you would be. But that’s not how life worked.

He pulled into the driveway and threw the car in park before turning it off and running around to the passenger side of the car and scooping you back into his arms. He managed to get the front door open and he kicked it closed behind him before carrying you over to the couch. He laid you down as gently as he could before realizing that your eyes were closed.

“Baby?” He asked, putting his hand on your chest to give you a shake, but you didn’t respond. It didn’t hurt anymore and you were so, so tired. Ryan’s panic spiked and he pressed his fingers to your throat, looking for a pulse, having to press them harder when he didn’t feel anything. You had a pulse, but barely. Your heart was beating so slowly and Ryan’s chest tightened.

“No. No, you are not dying on me, do you hear me? You’re not going to die,” his voice stuck to his throat as he struggled to hold his tears back. His stomach turned as he realized that this was it. He had to make the choice. Either you die in his arms as a human, or he tried to turn you. You could still die during the transition, probably would with how weak you were. But you were already dying and there was nothing left for him to do to save your humanity.

He never wanted this.

He never wanted to see you die, especially while you were still so young.

He swallowed and brushed your hair to the side to expose your neck, the bite marks from William still littering your skin, making him more nauseous than he already was.

“Please work,” he whispered, begging the universe to let you survive before he pulled his sleeve up and bit into his wrist, the bitter taste of his own blood secondary as he opened your mouth and let it run into your mouth and rubbed his wrist against your inner lips. He hated the way his nearly black blood looked against your lips but he couldn’t think about it as he leaned in, grazing his teeth across your neck before biting down as hard as he could.

He always loved the taste of your blood, but this time it made him sick and he pulled back with a gag and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. His stomach turned again as he saw how lifeless you really were, lying on the couch with your eyes closed and your hands resting on your stomach. He brushed your hair over your neck to cover the bite marks before he ran his thumb over your bottom lip to wipe his blood away.

But it didn’t help. You still looked lifeless. Still were lifeless. Almost as if you should have been in a coffin and not on the couch.

He never wanted to see you like this.

Dead.

His stomach turned and he pulled himself up, making it to the kitchen sink in time to throw up your blood. He kept heaving until there was nothing left in his stomach and he turned the tap on to wash the blood away and rinse out his mouth. He gripped the edge of the sink as he hung his head between his shoulders before he grabbed a paper towel and wiped his mouth. He tossed the paper towel into the garbage before walking back to the living room and kneeling down beside you.

He looked at you for several long moments, not even daring to blink. If he could sleep, he knew it would be a nightmare, but he didn’t sleep, so it had to be real.

You were really dead.

He shook his head as he lightly ran his thumb over your face, tracing the arch of your cheeks and nose as he finally let the damn break, tears spilling down his cheeks. “I love you. I love you so much. Why? Why would you do this? If you die... There’s no point anymore. I’d rather be dead than in a world without you,” he sobbed.

Heartbroken wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what he felt.

But there was nothing he could do besides wait to see if it worked, or if he just lost you forever.

He was angry. Angry at you mostly, for putting yourself in that situation, that you wouldn’t accept his decision to not turn you. But sitting there on the floor, holding your cold hand in his, all he felt was fear. Fear that he was losing you forever.

“Please,” he whispered, repeating the word over and word as he hoped that the universe or whatever higher power existed would take pity on him and give you back to him. He needed you to live. He needed to see your pretty eyes and smile again. Needed to hear your voice and your laugh. The tears kept coming as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your hand. “Please baby. Please don’t go,” he begged.

It might be harder for a vampire to die, but he’d do it. He’d find a way to if it meant being with you in the afterlife. He didn’t know if one existed, or if he would even get to go since he was what he was, but he’d find out if you didn’t survive.

He didn’t know how much time was passing. But he couldn’t pull himself away from you. He just sat there and held your hand, his thumb rubbing soft circles on the back of your hand. Reasonably, he knew he should get up and get fresh blood for you, but whatever is left would have to cut it if you did survive because he couldn’t pull himself away. Couldn’t let go of your hand. Couldn’t stop memorizing the smell of your shampoo and every detail of your face. If you really did die, he wasn’t going to waste a single second because he’d never get to see you again.

Finally, he pushed himself up enough to press a kiss to your forehead and stroked your hair with his other hand. “I need you to wake up, okay? I need you to survive. I can’t… I can’t do this without you. I love you so much,” he whispered, his voice still shaky.

He didn’t know what time it was when he found you, but he glanced out the window and realized it was dark so he glanced at the clock and saw it was already past ten o’clock, making his heart drop in his chest. It had been hours and you hadn’t moved. Hadn’t woken up.

He kept glancing at the clock as the hours continued to pass, anxiously waiting you to open your eyes but the more the hours passed, the more his heart dropped and he was starting to think that you weren’t coming back, that he really lost you.

By the time the clock hit 4AM, Ryan was sobbing uncontrollably into your chest, gripping your hand tightly in his, not ready to let you go. But you finally opened your eyes.

Ryan had told you years ago how much it hurt to be turned.

It was one of the first things he brought up when you first started asking him to turn you. He didn’t shy away from telling you that the transition was just agony, that every cell in your body was rewriting itself, and you would be able to feel every second of it. He told you you’d feel it in your blood and in your bones, but none of it prepared you for the pain radiating through your body and the searing heat in your throat.

You were so sure you were dead but you were looking at your living room ceiling and, while you admittedly didn’t know much about the afterlife, your living room seemed like weird setting for it. But you also couldn’t feel your heart beating, so you had to be dead. Right?

Everything started to come back, meeting William at the hotel, trying so hard to push him back as he sunk his teeth into your neck, feeling yourself losing too much blood, sinking to the floor of the hotel room, Ryan, being in Ryan’s arms, Ryan. Ryan. Ryan.

Everything around you came into focus and it was so much clearer than before. None of your vision was fuzzy and you could easily see the pictures on the other side of the room. You could feel the stray thread on the couch brushing against your arm. You could smell Ryan and his familiar, comforting cologne, but you could also smell something underneath it, a bitter scent of decay that you had never noticed before.

Ryan was still sobbing into your chest as you struggled to put the pieces together and you opened your mouth to tell him you were okay, that you were still here, that you weren’t going anywhere, but you were so thirsty and your throat was so dry that it hurt too much to say anything.

He still had your hand clamped in his, but your other hand was resting by your side so you raised it to your throat as you tried to swallow, but it hurt. Everything hurt. The only thing that left your mouth was a soft strangled noise, but it’s enough to have Ryan’s head snapping up.

He could see the pained, confused expression on your face, the familiar colour of your eyes replaced by crimson, but he was more relieved than there were words in the dictionary as he cupped your face and pressed his forehead to yours and you could smell the salt in his tears. “Thank God, thank fucking God,” he whispered, his voice breathy with relief, but you whimpered, making him pull back as his eyes widened.

“Right, hold on,” he told you, giving your hand another squeeze before pulling back and running to the minifridge that held his emergency blood. It wasn’t the freshest, but it would have to do, and it would be enough to satisfy your needs. He grabbed a blood bag and got a glass down before grabbing the scissors out of the drawer and walked back to the living room.

You hadn’t moved from your place on the couch and he put the glass down on the table beside the couch before cutting the corner off the blood bag and pouring it into the glass for you, careful to squeeze as much of it into the glass as he could.

When you were human, you never noticed the smell of blood. You tasted your own blood a few times as a kid, more since you started seeing Ryan and he’d kiss you after drinking from you, the taste of your blood still stuck to his tongue. But when he started pouring the blood, you smelt it immediately and you couldn’t focus on anything else as the pain and hunger got worse.

Ryan put the empty bag down on the table and slipped his hand under you to rest on your shoulder blades as he helped you sit up before reaching over to grab the glass and handed it to you. “Drink up, baby,” he whispered.

You hungrily took the glass, holding it in both hands as you brought it to your lips and drunk it as quickly as you could, going as far as to lick the inside of the glass to get more, needing more blood.

Ryan stroked your hair, still trying to process that you survived, that he didn’t lose you, and he gently took the glass back.  “I have more, do you need more?” He asked and you licked your lips, your tongue tracing over the bit of blood that clung to your skin and nodded, still not trusting your voice.

Ryan nodded and pulled himself away to get another bag from the fridge. It only took him a few moments, but you still reached out to him when he came back, needing the blood. Ryan cut the bag and filled the glass as quickly as he could before handing it back to you, and just like before, you drank it as quick as you could.

“Easy, easy,” he whispered, sitting down on the arm of the couch before reaching out to run his hand down your back. “Don’t drink it too fast.” You wanted to listen to him, but you couldn’t. All you wanted as to satisfy the thirst.

You finished the glass quickly and licked at the glass again before handing the glass back to him. Your body still ached deep in your bones as it adjusted to its new state, but the pain in your throat subsided.

Ryan took the glass and put it on the table before reaching out to cup your cheek. He used his thumb to wipe the rest of the blood from your lip, raising it to his mouth. “You’re okay,” he breathed, a smile playing on his lips. He pulled you in for a hug, pressing his face into your shoulder as he soaked you in. “You’re okay,” he repeated, holding you as tight as he could. “I was so fucking scared,” he admitted, moving one of his hands up to cradle your head.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice scratchy as you wrapped your arms around him. “I’m so sorry.”

He pulled back to kiss the side of your head, “don’t you ever do something like that again, okay? I almost lost you forever.”

You nodded, fisting the back of his shirt so he couldn’t pull away, not that he was going to. “Never again,” you agreed before pressing your face into his chest.

Everything around you felt different. You felt different. Your head as pounding, the hyper focus, the pain, it was overwhelming. But Ryan was the same, Ryan was Ryan.

Ryan was home.

You didn’t dare pull away from him until the sun started to come up. In the midst of his panic, he hadn’t remembered to close the blinds and you hissed as the sun started to stream through the window, pressing your face into his chest to get away from it.

Ryan cursed under his breath and gently pried you back before getting up to close the blinds. He’d have to order blackout curtains for the living room and the kitchen. He spared a glance in your direction before heading up the stairs and drawing the blackout curtains that were installed in the master. The bedroom would be much darker and more comfortable for you.

“Come on,” he whispered softly, gently resting his hand on your shoulder. “Let’s go to bed.”

You let him guide you up the stairs to the bedroom, thankful the house wasn’t too bright yet, and at least the darkness of the room made it a little easier to focus. Still, as you curled up on comforter, you could feel every stray thread brushing against your skin and you held back a sob. How did Ryan do this every day?

“It’s going to get easier with time, okay?” He told you. “Especially the sunlight. I promise that will get better.”

You nodded and put your head down on the pillow, the pain unrelentless. “When does it stop hurting?” You asked him and Ryan sat on the edge of the bed to cover your hand.

“A while,” he told you honestly. “And you can’t sleep it off. I’m sorry.” You gave him a small nod as you closed your eyes, the sensory input too much to wrap your head around right now.

Ryan’s unbeating heart panged in his chest watching you and he walked around to the other side of the bed and slipped in, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pressed his chest to your back. He couldn’t take your pain away, couldn’t make this better. But he could be there with you, and that was going to have to be enough.

It could have been minutes or hours, but you stayed wrapped up in his arms, trying to ignore the pounding in your head and the merciless ache that radiated through your body; even the tips of your fingers hurt. But the longer you stayed unmoving in your bed, the more your burning in your throat came back, and no amount of swallowing made it go away.

Your voice, though soft as a whisper, cut through the quiet room, “my throat hurts.”

“Okay,” Ryan whispered and slowly pulled himself away from you. You whimpered at the loss of his touch, needing him, but he shushed you softly. “It means your thirsty and right now you need all the blood you can get, so I’m going to get you some and call for more, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can.” You didn’t want to let him go, not wanting to be alone, but you nodded. He came around the bed to kiss your forehead before quietly slipping out of the room.

Seconds felt like hours and you hated how quiet the room was. The silence was killing you. So, you slowly pulled yourself out of bed. You didn’t turn the light on as you went into the master bathroom, but you didn’t need, your vision leagues better now than it was as a human.

You knew what you were going to see, but you still gasped when you saw the red eyes staring back at you. You lifted your fingers to trace over your skin, flinching at the initial contact. Even ghosting your fingers over your cheek was overwhelming. You didn’t recognize the woman looking back at you. Your eyes were sunken, your skin deathly dull, every arch and curve of your face altered just enough to make you uncomfortable. It wasn’t your face, but it was.

You traced your nose and down to your lip, gently pushing it up. No fangs, but your canines were sharper than you remembered.

You let your lip fall back before trailing your hand down to your chest. For the first time, you couldn’t feel your heart, or your chest rising and falling. You knew it was going to happen, but you still pressed your hand harder against your chest, trying to find a pulse you didn’t have. You wanted to breathe, but your lungs no longer took any air into them. And those red eyes stared back at you, unblinking.

Ryan found you staring down your reflection and put the glass of blood on the bathroom counter before taking your wrist and prying your hand off your chest. “Hey, hey,” he whispered softly. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

You didn’t say anything as you looked to Ryan, but you didn’t have to. The pain in your eyes told him everything he needed to know and he pulled you to his chest, one arm wrapping around your waist while the other cradled your head. “You’re okay,” he told you, but you weren’t sure that you were.

Still, you clung to him and let him guide you out of the bathroom and he sat you down on the bed. “The eyes?” He asked softly when you wouldn’t look at him. You nodded and Ryan’s lips twitched into a sad smile. “You’ve seen my eyes when they’re red,” he reminded you. “They didn’t bother you, right?” You nodded again, but couldn’t look at him. He was gentle as he reached out to cup your jaw and tilt your head up so you would look at him. As shocking as they were to see, he didn’t react. “You are beautiful and I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you whispered. He gave you a soft smile before kissing your forehead and getting up to retrieve the glass of blood. You did your best to drink it slowly like he told you, but it was hard when it felt like you were never going to get enough.

He took the empty glass from you and brought it to the bathroom, rinsing it out and putting it on the counter before closing the door over to limit the scent of any lingering blood.

“You should change into something more comfortable,” he whispered when he came back. You nodded and he picked out a soft pair of sleep pants and an oversized shirt and placed them on the bed next to you before turning around to give you privacy.

You peeled your clothes off and dropped them by the bed before pulling the loose, comfortable clothes and curling up back in bed. Ryan turned back when you told him it was okay and he picked your clothes up to toss in the hamper before changing into some sleep pants and joining you in bed.

A lot of the first couple days were spent in bed.

It was the only room in the house with full blackout curtains, which you needed with your sensitivity to light, and your body just wasn’t up for anything else. It would be an understatement to say the first couple days were brutal. But, slowly, as your body adjusted to its new, dead, state, the pain started to subside. But with without the pain, there was nothing to distract you from the hunger.

Your hunger was insatiable.

It didn’t matter how much blood Ryan gave you, you were always hungry, always craving something.

Your body moved on auto pilot, constantly opening the fridge and then closing it because you knew you shouldn’t—couldn’t—have anything in there. But you had left overs from your favourite restaurant staring back at you and you salivated thinking about it so you caved and tossed it in the microwave.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Ryan told you as you got a fork out.

You looked back at him, Ryan still expecting the eyes he fell in love with. “I’m so hungry,” you told him. “I can’t stop thinking about it, so please, just let me try.”

He nodded, “I’m not going to stop you, I just… It’s not going to taste anything like you remember and I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

You cleared the microwave before it could go off and you curled your nose up at the smell. It didn’t smell bad, it smelt exactly like you remembered, but it had you turning your nose up. Ryan watched you as you shovelled a forkful into your mouth and froze. He was right, of course he was right. It wasn’t the savoury taste you were used to, it tasted… Wrong. You gagged as you tried to swallow but were eventually able to get it done, not that you wanted anymore of it.

“How do you feel?” He asked after a moment.

You lip trembled as you tried to keep it down before rushing out of the kitchen to the main floor bathroom and throwing it up. Ryan was by your side in an instant, holding your hair back and rubbing your back as you threw everything in your stomach up, including the blood you had earlier.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he told you, flushing the toilet as you leaned back against the wall and put your head in your hands. “I had the same reaction to human food at first,” he told you before putting the cover down on the toilet and sitting down next to you. “I wish I could tell you that eventually you’ll be able to enjoy the foods you used to, but you won’t. It’s going to get easier to stomach, but it’s never going to be the same. There’s always going to be some level of discomfort.”

You nodded and let him rest his hand on your thigh. “I just hate that I can’t get enough, that nothing is—”

“Satisfying you,” he finished with a sad smile. “I know. Trust me, I know…” His thumb rubbed soft circles on your thigh. “That will pass eventually too, but right now… It’s just going to suck.”

You leaned into him and rested your head on his shoulder. You were quiet for several moments before confessing, “I can hear the kids playing on the street sometimes.”

“I know,” he whispered. “How does that make you feel?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I… I hate that I don’t know. I should be fine with it, they’re children for fucks sake.”

“But they’re warm bodies,” he said.

“I’m a monster,” you whispered.

Ryan looked over at you and shook his head, “no, you’re not. You haven’t tried once to go outside. Hearing them knowing they have warm blood is natural, okay? You’ll learn to tune it out and you’ll learn control and then you won’t even notice the people around you, okay?”

“What if I can’t?” You asked.

“Can’t what?” He replied.

“Can’t control myself,” you whispered, looking at your lap.

He shifted how he was sitting so he could cup your cheek and force you to look at him with those big red eyes. “I promise you, you will learn. I will teach you and you will be okay.” You wanted so desperately to believe him so you leaned into his touch with a small nod, and did your best to push down all the anxiety and darkness that told you otherwise.

“I’m always cold,” you told him.

Ryan sighed and pulled you against him, hooking his head on top of yours. “I know,” he whispered. “That isn’t going to go away.”

You made a soft sound in your throat as you realized this was a feeling you wouldn’t be able to shake, but you didn’t say anything. It didn’t matter if it was a hoodie or a blanket, or multiple of each, you felt cold in a way you couldn’t describe, and you hoped it would go away, but he was telling you it wouldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You were warm for me, I’m sorry I can’t be warm for you too.” He was quiet as you leaned against him. “I can get you a hot water bottle, though, that will keep you warm.”

You nodded, but didn’t let him get up to get you one. You weren’t cold enough to need it, not yet at least. You were cold, and the tile of the bathroom and Ryan didn’t help it, but you weren’t cold enough to warrant a hot water bottle. What you needed was him. Just him.

You don’t know how long you stayed latched against him, but eventually he picked both of you off the floor and given the dark sky outside, he guided you over to the couch to curl up on while he cleaned the kitchen up, throwing the rest of the food out before washing the plate and fork. By the time he made his way over to the living room, you had wrapped yourself up in a blanket and he sat down beside you and you offered the corner of your blanket to him. He murmured a soft “thank you” as he took it, draping it over his lap. Normally, he suggested watching a movie, but he was happy to just sit in the quiet with you.

Slowly, you leaned into him to rest your head on his lap and he soothingly stroked your hair. He wished you could sleep, give your body and mind a rest, but it didn’t work like that. Vampires went against nature, they weren’t supposed to exist, so of course they wouldn’t be able to get a moment of reprieve from their existence.

As hard as it all was, at least you had him. Ryan had been through all of it before so he could help you though it now.

And he did.

At least at first.

It took Ryan a few weeks to snap.

He was so focused on you and you still being with him and helping you the best he could because the transition was far from easy that he didn’t dare let himself feel how much he hated everything that happened.

You hadn’t respected his decision.

You went behind his back to someone you met once.

You died. Almost forever.

As the weeks dragged on and you were starting to settle into your new skin, the anger creeped up on Ryan until he could no longer pretend he wasn’t furious with you. He tried to keep it to himself, he really did. He had, literally, forever to be mad at you and right now you needed him more than ever so he tried to stuff it down and be there for you.

But you kept staring back at him with crimson eyes and no matter how much blood he gave you, your thirst was never quite satisfied, and you didn’t have to tell him to know you hated handing back countless empty blood bags. Sometimes he caught you staring in the mirror at yourself, tracing your fingers over your skin or just staring down the red eyes staring back at you.

He told you that you’d hate it, that you’d regret it. But you didn’t listen to him, you never listened to him. And you nearly died because of it.

The frustration and anger cut through him like an icy sword and every time you locked yourself in the master bedroom with the blackout curtains alone, the sword cut a little deeper, and it could only go so deep before he snapped.

You didn’t do anything, not really, you just handed back another blood bag, your eyes a little more vibrant but so clearly filled with turmoil.

He curled the empty blood bag into his fist, a few drops of blood hitting the hard wood floor, but he didn’t care. His jaw clenched and he walked over to toss the empty bag into the garbage bin on the other side of the room that was filled with more than a couple empty blood bags.

When he looked back at you, he saw the woman he loved, but he also saw someone he didn’t recognize. Neither of you moved and with neither of your breathing, the room was deathly still, making his voice cut through the room.

“You died; you do get that right?” He asked harshly. “You died in my arms, I had to watch your heart stop beating and I sat with your corpse for hours thinking I was never going to see you again because you went out and did something I specifically told you not to do!” He didn’t realize his voice was raising until you cowered back into the bed, his loud voice even louder on your new ears. Your reaction had his shoulder dropping as he took a step away from you, but he didn’t leave, waiting for you to say something, anything.

But what were you supposed to say? He was right. You went behind his back to be turned only to nearly die for real. If Ryan hadn’t gotten there when he did, you would be dead. Really dead. And would he have found your body? Would anyone? Or would William have buried your body in an unmarked grave off the highway leaving everyone to wonder what happened to you?

The thought alone made you sick and Ryan kept looking at you with big angry and sorrowful eyes and you pulled your knees to your chest.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Sorry?” Ryan asked, not believing that sorry was all you had to say for yourself. “Sorry doesn’t change that you’re going to be like this forever. This isn’t something you can just change. This is your life forever. Did you even think it through? You’re not going to be able to see your friends or family for months, maybe even years depending on how long it takes you to control your blood lust. And then you have maybe five years with them before they start realizing you aren’t getting older. You are going to have to fake your death and watch your family grieve you and never see or speak to them again. Did you really think this through?”

Maybe it was harsh, but it was the truth and you needed a reality check.

You were quiet before you whispered, “I did think it through.”

“Did you?” He asked, his tone striking a chord with you.

“I did!” You snapped before leaning back against the headboard, having surprised yourself at your volume. You paused, letting your voice soften before continuing, “I spent years wanting this, Ryan. Look, I’m sorry about how this happened and if I could go back and not go to William, I would. But I’m not sorry that it worked. I know it’s hard right now, really hard, but I want this. I want you.”

Ryan softened at your outburst and you looked down at the bedspread and picked at a loose thread. “But you don’t want me like this, do you? You loved me as a human and because you see yourself as a monster, you see me as a monster, don’t you?” Your voice was soft and vulnerable and you only looked up at him when you felt him sit on the bed.

He was closer than you were expecting and he covered your hand with his, the coolness of your skin so different from the warmth he was used to. “I don’t see you as a monster,” he whispered. “I’m in love with you and you being a vampire doesn’t change that. I’m always going to love you. I just don’t want you to stop loving me because you hate being a vampire.” He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry for yelling, I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you. But what you did was incredibly reckless and stupid and you were lucky that I got there when I did, just a minute later and…” He couldn’t even say it, but he didn’t have to. You knew what he meant and you let your eyes drop back down to the bedspread. “If I had lost you, I don’t know what I would have done.” He whispered your name as he reached out to cup your jaw and lift your head so you would meet his eyes, “I was so scared. I thought I lost you forever.”

You leaned into his touch and you could see the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. “I’m sorry,” you told him. “I’m sorry for putting you through that, but I’m here now and I’m going anywhere. You won’t have to lose me. You won’t ever have to lose me.”

Ryan slumped forwards into you, pressing his face into your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as possible, clinging to you. Ryan wasn’t one to break down, and you honestly couldn’t remember ever seeing him cry outside the night you were turned, but he sobbed, all of the emotions he kept bundled up for weeks, spilling out.

You didn’t know you were crying with him until you tasted the salt of your tears on your lips, but you couldn’t pull your hands away from him to wipe your tears. After all you put him through, the least you could do was hold him as he got it all out.

You lost your sense of time since the transition, everything seemly passing faster and slower at the same time. You had no idea how long you held Ryan for, but eventually he stopped crying. He didn’t pull away from you and you didn’t push him. You let him rest against you, no longer bothered by his weight, and you gently ran your fingers through his hair.

“I love you so much,” he finally whispered.

“I love you more,” you told him, kissing the side of his head.

“Not possible,” he whispered against your skin.

The tension between you melted away after that. He let go of his anger and his frustration and for the first time he was able to feel relief. True relief. Time was everyone’s enemy, every passing second one you couldn’t get back. But it wasn’t your enemy, not anymore. He wasn’t going to lose you. He never had to lose you.  

The transition didn’t get easier for you, you were clearly struggling, but Ryan stopped fighting it. Being a vampire was hard, the early transition was even harder, that was something Ryan knew first hand. He wished he could forget how much he struggled during his transition, and he really wished he could forget what he did during it.

Times were different now, which made things both easier and harder. The technology made it more bearable to stay inside, but there was also so much more noises and disturbances. If this was planned… He had agreed to turn you, he would have rented or bought a cabin somewhere far away from any cities so you wouldn’t be a risk to anyone; so you could go outside. He knew how hard it was to be kept inside for weeks, to not even be able to be out in the backyard, and he knew you could hear kids playing in the street and people walking their dogs on the sidewalk. He knew it was hard and he needed to step up and be there for you in every way you needed him to be.

He loved you. He loved you as a human and he loved you now. There was nothing you could do to that would make him stop loving you. You were it for him. You were always it for it for him.

He did his absolute best to take care of you, and he never left the house unless it was to pick up a new supply of blood. He spent hours every day teaching you control and how to get used to everything, learning how to tune out all the excess sounds and scents. But weeks inside, seeing no one but him, it wasn’t exactly easy, and Ryan understood that, but it wasn’t like he could bring any of your friends or family over to check on you.

So, he did the next best thing.

The sound of the doorbell ringing made you cringe and cover your ears. You heard Ryan open the door and you heard hushed voices but you did your best to tune them out as you sat in the darkened bedroom.

Ryan said your name softly so you pulled your hands from your ears, but you didn’t open your eyes. “I have someone I think you’ll want to see,” he told you, making you look over at him. He was resting against the doorframe with a soft smile, his hair pulled back in a bun. But your eyes immediately drifted to the man standing next to him.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Cale said with a smile, his cheeks somehow still rosy despite being a vampire for centuries.

A smile grew quickly across your lips and you pushed yourself off the bed quickly to wrap your arms around him in a hug. “Cale,” you said into his shoulder. He laughed softly and held you back just as tightly.

Of all of Ryan’s friends, you and Cale had something special, and you knew that he was Ryan’s friend, but over the years, the two of you had really grown closer and you considered him one of your closest, and definitely your wisest, friend.

“You look as beautiful as the day I met you,” he told you when you pulled back from the hug and it helped you not be as insecure about your eyes.

“And you look just as young,” you told him, your smiling softening before Ryan cleared his throat. Cale rolled his eyes but nodded towards the hall. You nodded and followed him out of the bedroom towards the living room, wincing slightly at the sunlight coming in through the large living room windows. The natural light was one of features you loved about the house, but now you were really cursing it.

Ryan explained that vampires had evolved to walk in the sun, but unfortunately that didn’t mean they were still sensitive to it, mostly newborns and when they were starving. He told you that your body would get used to it and eventually it would stop bothering you, but it hadn’t gotten any better through the first weeks as a newborn.

“Sorry,” Ryan apologized and quickly walked over to close the blinds, casting the room in a darkness that was odd for the middle of the afternoon before joining you on the couch while Cale sat in the armchair.

You were expecting Cale to ask you how you were doing, how you were handling being a vampire, and you would have to lie and tell him it was going great because you couldn’t admit to yourself or to Ryan how much you were struggling. But Cale didn’t ask. Instead, he pulled out a deck of cards. “Rummy, anyone?” He asked.

Your shoulders slumped forwards with relief and you couldn’t nod fast enough. Cale matched your smile as he started to shuffle the cards before dealing them out, and, for the first time since you were turned, things felt normal.

You didn’t think about the sun or the dog barking down the road or the roughness of your throat that never went away, no matter what you drank. You focused on Ryan’s laugh and how it didn’t infuriate you that Cale beat you every hand. You focused on your friends and how lucky you were to have them.

Cale stayed in your guest room the next couple of days, and it was definitely the motivator you needed to push through the difficult time. Ryan was great, he really was and you couldn’t do it without him, but seeing Cale’s unbiased smile really helped you through the transition, and you felt a lot lighter and happier by the time he left.

Your transition got a little easier after that. Cale kept coming around to spend time with you, and sure, it was frustrating to never be allowed outside, but the more the months dragged out, the more settled in your new skin you felt.

It took time, a lot of time, but you were able to settle into your new body. Your senses died down, as did your desire for blood, and your eyes went back to their normal colour. It was weird seeing everything through a difference lens, but you were able to get used to it. And maybe everything was stronger now than it was before, but that just meant that the flowers were a little brighter and the grass a little greener.

When you were finally able to leave your home, you saw everything different from before. It didn’t matter if it was a tree or a bird or a building, everything was different from before, but it was a good different.

You left Denver after a year of being a vampire. It hurt to leave your city and your friends and family, but you agreed with Ryan it was for the best. You weren’t ready to fake your death but you knew you’d have to in the next couple years and moving to a different city was the first step towards your new life with him.

Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt walking out of your house for the last time.

It was a beautiful house and you adored it, but it was everything your human self wanted and nothing your new self needed. All you needed, all you wanted, was a life with Ryan and it didn’t matter to you where you lived as long as you had him.

You and Ryan decided on Paris.

It was a wide, wide world out there and now you had all the time in world to see it.

You got a beautiful one bedroom apartment in the heart of the city and you didn’t think you were ever going to be tired of looking over the city from your living room window. And you were certainly never going to be tired of Ryan wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest as he pressed gently, loving kisses to your check.

Another thing you realized was that even as you settled into the transition, as a vampire everything was heightened. Every kiss, every brush of his fingers, it was electrifying and you couldn’t get enough. You were never going to get enough.

You leaned back against him and Ryan smiled against your skin, his nose brushing against your ear as you looked over your new city. “You’re my eternity, you know that?” He whispered.

Your smiled softened as you turned in his arms and you gently reached up to cup his face, you traced your thumbs over the arch of his cheeks before kissing him. You were never going to get tired of kissing him. His lips fit against your like they were made to, and they probably were.

When you pulled back from the kiss, Ryan chased your lip, pressing another quick kiss to your lip before pulling back with a loving smile. He meant every word he told you. You were his life and eternity. And he was yours.

You didn’t know what you expected when you first met Ryan at the park almost ten years ago, but not even in your wildest dreams did you imagine you’d be living in Paris with him getting the happily ever after you thought only existed in books.

But some things were just meant to be.

Fin