#i'm just glad i finally posted something after 2 months

[sleep-escapes-me]

didn't know they were dating

Imogen x Laudna

word count: 2569

a modern au told through the eyes of convenience store employee, Cynthia, and the observations she makes while working

read the full version on ao3

//

“Are you able to work independently in a fast-paced environment?”

“Yes, sir. At my previous job, my boss was impressed with how—,”

“You’re hired.”

The evening shift is Cynthia’s new home. She’s grateful for the opportunity at something different but more so for the money. Having hobbies is expensive and horses are expensive. So when your hobby is horses…well.

And school of course. Money for school.

“Welcome to Faramore’s!”

The cheery disposition is easy enough to muster. And once her manager stops randomly showing up during her shifts after the first week, Cynthia realizes the pep isn’t necessary. At least not with the crowd of customers she’s slowly getting used to.

It's a nice job for the pay. The shop she works at is located in a sleepy neighborhood on the city's outskirts so it rarely gets busy. Every night so far has been peaceful. Giving Cynthia plenty of time to finish any homework and people-watch.

She comes to recognize the regulars fairly quickly and learns all their names only because she’s nosy and the receipt is right there.

There's the blue-haired guy with the nice smile, Dorian, who more often than not has a guitar strapped to his back. He usually shows up with his boyfriend, seemingly always coming from a workout at the gym, Orym. His eyes are incredibly discerning if not a little unsettling. He stares at her like he knows all her secrets. But they’re always very polite and ask how she’s holding up in the late hour. Cynthia likes them.

Protein bar Lip balm Ready-to-bake pie crust $15.99

There's the incredibly tall gorgeous woman, Fearne, who always smells like a garden of wildflowers when she walks in. Cynthia’s been scared to ask what perfume she wears after an incident where she caught the woman attempting to steal. Maybe Cynthia is just naive but she thought being caught once would deter further attempts…but that strangely wasn’t the case. She's had to let it go altogether because she just gets so flustered. One playful wink from the woman has Cynthia forgetting all about the incident to the point that she makes an effort to make sure her manager never finds out about the missing stock.

Novelty monkey lighter Cinnamon gum 3 tubes of lipstick Pack of ribbons Costume jewelry Various postcards $0

Then there’s the punk-looking one with the spikey purple hair, Ashton, who always shows up exactly at 1 AM every other night. Cynthia was weary of him at first but then he gave her some really great unsolicited advice on how to not get swindled when negotiating with flaky people. After that night he started tipping her a single dollar and imparting arbitrary wisdom. Cynthia hasn’t yet figured out if it’s some kind of prank…

Two cases of beer Travel sewing kit Toothbrush $20.06

Probably the loudest customers are the two old men who have the strangest conversations every time they enter the store. Cynthia desperately wishes to get in on whatever strange schemes the hairier one, Chetney, seems to always be involved in. Half of them can’t be true but his imagination excites her regardless. The other one rides in on a bright yellow scooter half the time and always wishes Cynthia a smiley day without fail no matter the time of day. He never brings any money or pays for anything so Cynthia doesn’t know his name aside from the obvious nickname, Letters, that she hears thrown around by Chetney. The lack of money always starts an argument between the two old men that she has to awkwardly stand and listen to. She learns new curse words all the time from them.

Wood finisher Scented body oil $18.12 Chamomile tea Cigarettes $12.87

And her favorite; the girlfriends. Or at least that’s what Cynthia assumes they are. It’s hard to tell.

The spooky-looking one, Laudna, tries to make small talk while at the register. Cynthia isn’t shy by any means but it’s sometimes hard to keep up with the odd topics of conversation. Soon enough Cynthia’s learning about her pet rat who’s so old he should be dead and how he’s always jumping off high places attempting to fly. Cynthia nods politely and keeps her opinions to herself.

Mixed seeds Red yarn Super glue $15.26

The other woman Laudna is always with, Imogen, is a bit more demure—or maybe guarded is more apt. Her eyes never leave Laudna and seems content to listen to her prattle on as they shop. She rarely buys anything. It’s usually at the behest of Laudna reminding her of some arbitrary thought.

Pencils Hand lotion $11.07

//

Imogen comes in alone for the first time since Cynthia started working. There's a nervous titter of energy around her as she runs up and down each aisle like a bat out of hell. Cynthia debates if she should ask if she needs any help before Imogen rushes to the register.

“This all for you today?” Cynthia asks habitually.

Imogen nods with a quiet sigh. “Hopefully.”

Box cake mix Candles Black sprinkles Oven mitts $14.47

Once she’s left, Cynthia muses over how sweet their relationship must be for Imogen to want to bake a cake for her girlfriend. She herself is an abysmal baker so it makes her yearn for a relationship in the future that’s just as thoughtful. She imagines Laudna walking through their front door, the house smelling of freshly baked goods. Imogen walks out of a side room with the cake decorated, candles lit, and a big smile on her face…

She speaks too soon when Imogen comes back in a little over an hour in a visibly sour mood, black crumbs stuck to her shirt.

Box cake mix Frosting $3.69

Cynthia can’t help herself as Imogen sullenly reaches for her purchase. The words tumble out of her mouth. “Havin’ trouble?”

Imogen startles at the sudden question and Cynthia holds back a grimace. She awkwardly gestures to the items she just bagged.

“Using milk instead of water makes a better box cake. More fat is supposed to improve it or something. At least that’s what my mama always says.”

Imogen frowns and checks over her shoulder toward the fridge section. She looks back at Cynthia for a solid two-count and nods.

Milk Energy drink $4.25

Imogen smiles warmly at her, taking her groceries. “Thanks.”

Cynthia beams. “Of course. Hope it turns out well.”

Imogen doesn’t show up for the rest of the night.

//

Laudna shows up alone one day in a tizzy and Cynthia instantly recognizes something is wrong. It tests her resilience as an impartial convenience store employee to not get involved in customers' business…but Laudna’s frazzled appearance and her very loud speaking over the phone at least paints Cynthia a vague picture.

“Okay, darling, I’ve just arrived. I’m walking to the medicine aisle. Ooh, those snacks Pâté likes are on sale—right, sorry. I am in the medicine aisle. Which one is it?” She pauses. “There’s a yellow label and a blue label.” Another pause. “Are you sure? The yellow label says extra strength.” Pause. “Well, I don’t care if it’s extra money! This is your health! I’m not yelling! Oh, nope. I am. Sorry, sorry. Hold on. I’m grabbing the yellow label.”

Cynthia watches Laudna do that in two more aisles.

“Okay, darling, I’m heading to the register. I’m hanging up. I have to pay.” She frowns. “I'm telling you so you don’t worry.” She looks at the phone then at Cynthia. “She hung up.”

Cynthia bites the inside of her lip to keep from laughing. “Find everything okay?”

“Oh, I hope so.” Laudna’s shoulders droop. “I get so flustered in a crisis that sometimes I forget my own name. Isn’t that just silly? I’m lucky Imogen is always so collected.” She chuckles lightly while nervously pulling at the ends of her hair.

“It’s not silly when you’re worried about someone.”

“You’re so sweet.” Laudna's eyes crinkle with a smile. “You know, I see you working whenever I come in. No matter the time. Do you always work this shift?”

“For the time being, yes.”

“You’re so young,” she muses.

Cynthia hands over the bag to Laudna. “Well, I hope everything is all right with your girlfriend.”

Laudna’s face slowly drops as she processes Cynthia’s words. “Excuse me?”

She scrambles. “Nothing. Nevermind. Here’s your change. Have a good evening.”

Laudna stares at her for a long moment before reaching for her money. Then trails out of the store in a mumbling daze.

Scar cream Pain meds Bandage wrap $25.73

Cynthia resists the urge to run in the back room. Was she wrong? Were they even dating? Were they already married? She’s never seen a ring on Imogen. Or has she? Laudna…definitely had one, right? The shine of a sparkling red ruby ring enters her mind. Fiancé?

//

Imogen enters the store alone the next night but seems perfectly normal when interacting with Cynthia. She even tells her to have a good night as she leaves.

A bag of chips Two energy drinks $6.86

It isn't until Laudna is back again at the end of the week when the fruits of her fuck up unravel. She doesn't enter with Imogen. Instead with someone Cynthia is shocked to see such a sweet woman like Laudna in cahoots with. The thief!

Cynthia watches the pair peruse the aisles aimlessly until

“Fearne!” The yell comes from the back of the shop. Laudna’s arms can be seen flailing over the tops of the shelves. Cynthia strains to listen.

“It’s all right,” Fearne says. “She doesn’t mind.”

Laudna stutters. “You still shouldn’t steal from such a sweet girl. That could be grounds for termination.”

Fearne hums. “She hasn’t been fired yet.”

Finally, the two of them make their way to the front. Fearne pivots toward the door with a familiar flirty wink before Laudna grabs her arm.

“Where are you going?” she admonishes. “We still have to pay.”

“Oh. Oops,” Fearne giggles. “Silly me. It just slipped my mind.”

Cynthia is mostly sure Fearne didn’t forget.

Laudna's eyes don’t quite look at Cynthia as they approach. Fearne seemingly takes notice and saunters up to the register.

“You must see Laudna here a lot, right?”

Cynthia feels her mouth go dry. She realizes she’s never heard Fearne’s voice this close because the other woman never comes to the register. It somehow even further adores her to the enigmatic woman. Cynthia slowly nods. “Sometimes.”

She leans across the counter. Her eyes twinkle with a mischievous sparkle. “So…are you the one who called Imogen her girlfriend?”

“Fearne! Okay!” She pushes her friend aside and drops a bill down on the counter in a fluster. “That's enough of that. I think we’re done here. Yes. Thank you so much, young lady! You have a lovely evening!”

Cynthia forgets to ring them up.

//

At this point, it’s been several weeks since seeing Imogen and Laudna enter the store together. Cynthia is so on edge thinking about the two women's situation that it’s starting to affect her sleep schedule.

The curiosity eats away at her until the next time Imogen walks in. The gentle ding from the door’s bell erupts like a blaring alarm for Cynthia. Her focus zeros in on the unsuspecting woman and tracks her around the store like a hawk. The next time she passes by the front, the word vomit hurls from Cynthia’s lips when it’s simply too much to hold back.

“Did you break up?” She blurts out instead of her usual script.

Imogen’s eyebrows furrow. “Huh?”

“Your girlfriend—uhh, or maybe fiancé?” She says it like a question and Imogen stares at her like she’s grown two heads. “Laud—the one woman you’re always here with. The spooky one?” Silence. She should really shut up. “Aren’t you together?”

The other woman goes deathly still. “No…”

Oh.

Cynthia feels the embarrassing red-hot heat flooding her cheeks. “Sorry. I thought you were. It was wrong of me to assume.”

A muscle in Imogen’s cheek tightens. Her mouth opens and closes several times before she asks, “Why would you think we were together?” Her voice is stony. “Did she say somethin’?”

“What?” She doesn’t sound accusatory or angry so Cynthia is confident she hasn’t completely insulted this woman. The word vomit continues. “No. It’s not that. I mean I did mention to her that you were her girlfriend and she never really denied it. I thought—I honestly didn’t think you were dating at first. But after a while it was hard to ignore when the two of you seemed so…” She trails off when noticing how pale Imogen has gotten.

“So?”

“In love?” Cynthia finishes lamely. Her cheeks burn with mortification.

She makes a noise somewhere between an acknowledgment and a whimper.

It’s all Cynthia gets before she turns and makes a beeline toward the back. She stands in front of the liquor aisle for an exorbitant amount of time. Cynthia has half a mind to ask if she’s all right but cowardice of saying the wrong thing again stops her. Finally, she makes a selection and Cynthia has to struggle to not cringe as she rings her up. No pleasantries are exchanged.

Box wine $8.99

She comes in the next day.

Cynthia wants to crawl into a hole.

Box wine Tissues Pain meds $14.68

And the next.

Cynthia considers quitting just to stave off the unparalleled embarrassment and shame coursing through her.

Two bottles of wine Decongestant Pint of ice cream Effervescent tablets $36.87

She never sees her again.

Mainly because Cynthia quits her job at Faramore's soon after. She’s accepted into an apprenticeship across town and can’t justify the commute anymore.

She doesn’t tell her regulars because that seems like a silly thing to do. It’s not like she talks to any of them or knows them beyond the stories she makes up in her head by their brief interactions. It’s strange when she realizes she will miss them. There’s a melancholic kind of insight she garners—missing someone you don’t really know.

Months later Cynthia finds herself in the neighborhood after an event takes her back across town. The curiosity hits her a bit too hard and soon enough she finds herself back at her old store. It’s like walking into a time capsule. She doesn’t feel any claim to the shop as it’s one of many and she’s gone to others in the franchise but it still feels strangely familiar as the bell dings when she enters.

The guy at the register is more apathetic than she cares to comment on. He rings up her items without so much as a greeting.

Gummy bears Bottle of water $4.33

On her way out, the door whooshes open and the bell dings softly. As if in slow motion, in walks Laudna, a big smile on her face, arm around a giggling Imogen’s shoulders, whose own arm is securely wrapped around Laudna’s waist. Laudna leans her head down to kiss the top of Imogen’s head. Then Imogen smoothly turns her face upward and they share a chaste kiss without breaking their stride. They don’t notice Cynthia walk past them.

Maybe Cynthia sheds a single tear later that night when she thinks about them or maybe it's just this very emotional movie she’s watching about a horse that defies all the odds in the end.

[sonicboomseason3]

a brief recap of what has been going on with the sonic movieverse in the past several months:

paramount has come out in public support of israel

keanu reeves, a man who has publicly rubbed elbows with none other than benjamin netanyahu, reportedly gets cast as shadow for the upcoming third movie

james marsden, the guy who plays tom, got exposed as having written a letter of support for a convicted pedophile

there's fucking??? zionist propaganda in the knuckles series???

kind of connected to the last point but adam pally, the guy who plays wade, is evidently pro-israel too

this is a complete and utter joke.

EDIT AS OF 4/30/24: if people see this version of the post, i'd really appreciate it if you reblog it instead of the other versions, as it's the most updated one with all the information that i want included. thank you :]

you know, it's been a few days since i've made this post, and some of you (not most) are staying determined in defending/justifying/giving the benefit of the doubt to keanu for that photo with netanyahu, whether it's because "it was a decade ago," "him being civil to someone he ran into at a party one time doesn't mean anything," "he's probably just silent because his pr managers won't allow him to speak up," etc. i've made my thoughts on the matter quite clear by directly responding to these people, but at this point, i'm tired of both seeing them in my notes and repeating myself, so take this as my final word on the issue.

i can't help it if you don't think the photo with netanyahu is damning, and i'm done engaging with everyone going out of their way to tell me that. i obviously disagree, especially after finding out that 1. the host of the party, arnon milchan, is a former israeli spy who has a history of developing israel's nuclear program and promoting apartheid in south africa (information that had broken out a few months prior to the party and thus would've been fresh news around the time keanu chose to attend) and 2. keanu has been caught hanging around at least two other weirdos, but if you don't find any of that to be cause for reasonable concern, then there really is nothing else i can say afaik.

with all that said, i'm beginning to realize how strange it is that these people's first instinct when seeing this post is to start debating about keanu's political stances without ever acknowledging any of the other bullet points. you guys realize that this isn't just about him, right? i know tumblr reading comprehension is known for being piss-poor, but like… you realize that i was trying to make a point of how there are MULTIPLE terrible things that have broken out about the people and company involved in the sonic movies, right? and yet, a lot of the people leaping to speak on keanu's behalf in my notes are completely ignoring the parts where i bring up paramount, pally, etc. all in favor of zeroing in on the singular point about keanu and making bad faith assumptions about me for holding him accountable. really makes one wonder where your priorities lie if, in a post that talks about so many other things, me accusing an a-list celebrity with, according to google, a net worth of almost $400 million is where you draw the line and apparently the only thing worth your acknowledgment.

ultimately, what i'm trying to say is that the intention of this post was just to gather up everything that i had been hearing for the past several months and put it all together in one place. there were a bunch of people who didn't know about at least one of the bullet points before seeing this post, and i'm glad that i could help inform them, that was what i was hoping to do! but as for the keanu thing, i've said pretty much all i can say for now, and i don't want to derail the original post even more than i may have already. unless something new comes up, i'm done talking about him.

[deerspherestudios]

Short Break and To Dos!

Hello all! 🍄🍄👻 I'm glad to see people enjoying Day 3 so far! I was so nervous about showing another side to Mychael in the update I thought people wouldn't like him as much but plenty have reacted positively! ❤️

I'll add a TLDR; above the read more, but if you don't mind my ramblings and want more details about everything, I'll write everything below! Light spoilers ahead!

I'll be taking a short break from MO development until 28th October to work on a short VN for the Monstrous Desires jam!

Most probably missed it, but there's a tiny small patch to Day 3 explained here.

Queue will return soon! I just gotta handle some housekeeping first with my Patreon.

Regarding the feedback on Day 3, I'm glad people aren't as averse to the new side of Mychael, in that he isn't always soft and sweet. I want people to fall in love with a person after all, not a yandere caricature, and that means that person can get upset, angry and sometimes irrational when we don't know what's going on in their head even towards the subject of their affections. While some (understandably!) were shocked about his reaction to the mushrooms, it'll be clear as to why (hopefully!)

Some of you have given incredibly accurate theories, and I'll take that as something I've done well in building up the mystery!!! I'm excited to share more in the next update, but for now!

1. I'll be taking a short break from MO development to work on a short VN for the Monstrous Desires jam!

What I have planned for Day 4 of MO might be the biggest update so far, since one route will lead to a few official BAD ENDINGS as opposed to 'dead ends' like the current demo has. To those who really want to, you finally get to see Mychael at his worst. As usual, writing the script takes a few months with plenty of changes in between, and I don't wanna bulldoze ahead and rush the story when it's getting to the climax!

But before I jump into all of that I just wanna give myself a creative exercise and try exploring a different theme, style and setting with a fresh new character for the jam! Since I'm a sucker for the trope... yes, the new blorbo will also be a yandere, sorry, I'm predictable.💔 The jam ends on October 28th so development on MO will continue then!

The last time I wrote something remotely sci-fi was in high school, so this will be fun to try!

2. Most probably missed it, but there's a tiny small patch to Day 3 explained here.

What it says on the tin! If you've already played Day 3, rest assured there's no significant story changes. Just an updated credits list, three extra sprites for one route and a small fix in the code.

3. Queue will return soon! I just gotta handle some housekeeping first with my Patreon.

Plenty of people have sent such sweet and encouraging messages to my inbox on what they thought of the update and I cannot thank all of you enough for the support!! I can't wait to post them out to archive them on the blog and answer all your interesting theories and queries in my queue!

But for now I'm due for a short break from my socials and to catch up on my Patreon sketch requests haha. I also plan to release cut content from Day 3 for my Yearling and Deer patrons. Plus, I'll be working on some written prompts for extra lore so that's something to look forward to!

I'll be back soon! Take care, fireflies!! ❤️

[buckets-and-trees]

hii i have a request this can be for Ransom or Andy

But imagine y/n and him are in an arranged marriage. y/n is doing everything she can for him to sign the divorce paper for examples smashing his cars, serving overly salty food, cutting his expensive clothes into pieces, disrespecting his workers, and spending his money on the most useful things (but if it ransom spending money at “low class” retail shops only bc I feel like he’ll hate that), etc.

instead of giving her a divorce, he just randomly starts acting like a romantic gentleman until the night ends he punishes her 🙊😈

I have to apologize for taking so long to answer this ask... and forgive me for not using all the inspo you dropped my way, but from the MOMENT I read this, I knew it was going to fuel something very specific for I'm Your Man Andy and his entrapped fiancé reader., and so I still needed to post it as an answer to this to give some credit where it's due. So even though it took months and months to get to here, this is the result.

Title: Don't Look Too Far Characters/Pairings: soft!dark mafia Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 6.4k Summary: After jetting away with Andy for a week, you're back. The reality that this is going to be your life starts to settle in in very unsettling ways. And although Andy's taken so many liberties with you already, he finally crosses a line you didn't know was on the board.

Content/Warnings: violent behavior; spanking as punishment; emotional manipulation; explicit smut: nipple play, cock stroking, vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex; use of pet name (sweetheart), implied dacryphilia

Author Note: This is not a stand alone section! You can find the previous parts here.

Author Note 2: I've been sitting on this for a long time, and I'm excited to finally have it here to share with you. Some of you genuinely seem to love this awful Andy, and you'll like this chapter. Some of you kinda like him against your will and I think you'll like this chapter (cough @stargazingfangirl18 cough). Some of you loathe this man, and you might like at least a few things in this chapter (looking at @biteofcherry).

You are glad to get home from your whirlwind trip with Andy.

Everything had been stunning, luxurious, and beyond your wildest dreams in one of the places you’d been longing to go almost your entire life. Even Andy had been nearly wonderful and certainly subjected you to endless spoiling and copious amounts of exquisite sex.

He makes all of this so difficult.

The private jet touches down in the early afternoon, and Andy allows you to avoid him until dinner. One of the things he’d made clear was an expectation from day one was having dinner together. After dinner, he insists on taking you for a ride in his Aston Martin DBS 770 Ultimate Volante – not his only sports car in the gargantuan garage of his mansion, and not even the only Aston Martin. Though he gave you no choice in whether or not to join him, he doesn’t force conversation, merely lets you enjoy the scenic drive, occasionally holding your hand. Once home, he takes you to bed and gets you to scream out through two orgasms for him before he lets you rest in peace.

The next morning, you awake alone. Andy only invokes a little small talk in the kitchen, lets you know he’ll be taking a few meetings, places a kiss on the top of your head while you eat breakfast at the counter, and then leaves.

It is more room than you have been used to in the mornings, and you don’t question it. You are happy to have the Saturday to yourself.

Three days after Andy so decisively put his engagement ring on your finger, he put a black card in your wallet. Today you will break it in.

You start at a hair salon you have never been able to afford but that had been on the “essential” list of prenuptial rituals for some of the wealthiest brides you’d planned nuptials for. Having the long-standing relationship with the establishment to arrange appointments for your clients meant they were willing to fit you in last minute for the late morning.

You hold yourself back from doing anything drastic. You don’t want to give Andy the satisfaction of driving you to go for a new style. You leave more than a generous tip.

You get lunch at a small sandwich shop – one of your favorites. You choose a table with a view out one of the large windows. It’s nice to be in a familiar place, even with the presence of Shep watching out for the non-existent security threats.

After lunch, you ask Mark to drive you to the plant nursery you love.

You get everything you want, leaving no plant behind if it strikes your fancy. You buy lovely pots for all of them and never look at price tags. When you tap your card for the enormous bill, it’s with a self-satisfied smirk on your face.

Next you go to the nail salon. They are busy, as it’s Saturday afternoon, just as you knew they would be, but they say they can take you in an hour or less, and since you have no demands on your time, you’re more than fine waiting.

As it’s late summer, it really is too warm for the plants to stay in your car, so you insist on sending Mark home with the plants – you know better than to try to convince Shep to go with him. The man has made it clear he will not shirk his duty as the point man for the security Andy has assigned to you. He’s ever present, and you don’t give him a hard time – he’s only doing his job. Shep doesn’t like your suggestion, however, and instead calls someone from the house to come pick up your plants so neither of the men have to leave.

Once your pedicure and manicure are complete, you check your phone while you’re escorted to the SUV. Your mom has sent you a text.

MOM: Call me when you get a chance! I want to hear all about your trip!

You frown as you slide into the backseat.

How did she know?

Since being trapped and installed into the life of the mob boss, you’ve avoided getting together with any of your friends or family, phone calls, and any deep text conversations. It’s self-isolation, nothing mandated from Andy. But what would you tell them about your new circumstance? Forced into an engagement with a charming, handsome man who just happens to be a mobster with control issues you were sure you could never escape from? Not a subject you want to get anywhere close to.

You only hesitate for another moment before you hit the call button and place the phone to your ear as Mark starts your drive home.

“Hello, dear!” your mom’s voice is clear and full of excitement.

“Hi, Mom,” you reply, smiling despite yourself.

Your heart aches for the weeks it’s been since you two last spoke. You missed her voice. You’re close with both of your parents. Your job had kept you incredibly busy over the past five years, but you usually spoke with them at least once a week and made it out to their house in the suburbs once or twice a month.

“I got your text,” you say simply, not sure how else to begin.

“Yes!” she exclaims, her voice full of enthusiasm. “I want to hear everything about your trip! But first, we have to talk about Andy!”

She can’t see it, but your jaw drops. “Andy?”

“He made us promise not to say anything until after lunch today – and I’m sorry, it’s why I haven’t texted or called all week, I wasn’t sure I couldn’t NOT bring him up, but he told us everything! How you met–”

“Well, you know I planned that signature gala for him,” you interject, somehow needing to jump in to clarify that point.

“Of course, yes, but how he was so impressed by you but waited until the event was over before saying anything, how he couldn’t help moving so fast with you. When he reached out earlier this week to set up the lunch with your father and I, he said he wanted us to meet him without you there so that we could thoroughly vet him and judge for ourselves without worrying you, make up our own minds even though he was obviously hoping we would approve since you’re engaged, but he didn’t reveal that detail until today.”

“Oh,” your mind is racing. “Andy always seems to have something up his sleeve.”

She laughs. “I can only imagine! And things certainly developed quickly!”

“Yes…” your voice is thick with hesitancy, and you know you can’t hide it from her.

“But your father and I want you to know that while you don’t need our approval, you have it. We’re surprised, but we approve. He’s so clearly smitten with you, and we know you would never jump into an engagement like this unless you were sure. We trust you.”

You don’t know what to say.

“I would have told you and Dad about the engagement,” you say. You don’t know when you would have. You were still so freshly coming to terms with its reality and ramifications…

Now telling your parents about Andy is yet another thing he has stolen from you.

“We know! We were young once, too! I can only imagine how much that man must have swept you away!” she soothes and exclaims, her voice bright and beaming through the phone.

It makes your chest ache because if this had evolved without Andy’s constant control, it might have been like this, and you would have gushed and been giddy with your mom right now in this moment.

“Why don’t we get lunch tomorrow just the two of us?” you suggest, wanting nothing more than to talk to your mom, but desperately needing to get off the phone so you can regroup, clear your thoughts, and figure out what in the world you are going to be able and willing to tell her.

“I would love that! Where do you want to go?”

You quickly sort out details that you promise to confirm over text, say your goodbyes, and then you end the call. You set the phone on the seat, drop your head back, and shut your eyes, fighting back angry tears. You wouldn’t let them fall down your cheeks.

“Your mom sounds like a lovely woman,” Shep interrupts your thoughts.

The laugh that tumbles out of your mouth is short and underscores how ridiculous all of this is. “She is. She’s not perfect, but she’s the best and has the biggest heart,” you respond with a genuine smile.

“She passed it on to you,” he says, meeting your eyes briefly in the rear-view mirror.

“You two should probably meet her tomorrow,” you offer up.

“We look forward to it,” Mark chimes in.

That’s the end of the exchange, but it dawns on you that while these two men have been assigned to your personal security and transportation, and they’re work for Andy, they have been nothing but professional, and you can see now that while they’re not warm and soft, there is a degree of care from them that has developed or that you’re only now recognizing exists that does seem to go beyond being a paycheck for them. Mark is probably close to your age, and you would guess Shep is eight or ten years older. Both men wear wedding bands on their left hands.

Having to have them assigned to you, you’re grateful it’s these two seemingly good men.

You’re sure there could be much worse.

You’re quiet the rest of the ride home, but your mind doesn’t stop racing.

“Would you like to get out at the front of the house or in the garage, ma’am?” Mark asks as you near the house. He always asks because the house is so large it makes a difference.

The corner of your mouth lifts as you decide, “The garage, please.”

The garage is a drive in basement level on the southeast corner of the house and holds two dozen cars, including the black Range Rover designated for you. You wonder if you’d ever be allowed to drive a car of your own again.

More aware now of the men, you notice there is a degree of ease that settles particularly over Shep now that you’re safe in the house again. You wonder if that’s always been the norm or if there’s a higher threat potential than usual. The shift does clue you into the reality that Andy is involved in more dangerous things than you thought. Instigator or target, you don’t know which he is, but regardless he’s swimming in dangerous waters, and you’re tied to his fate now.

This is your life.

Would you have chosen it?

Would you have?

A month ago, before the gala, you had genuinely been taken with him, even thought of him as you went to bed, alone, a hand on your breast and a toy between your legs and imagined what it would be like to have him there dealing out your pleasure instead. You hadn’t thought any serious interest being reciprocated from even the faintest possibility.

You had been so wrong.

And he’s dealt more pleasure than you had ever experienced.

More pain as well.

He was mindful of your physical limits, even if he rode them mercilessly.

He failed to comprehend the gravity of the rest of the pain he caused.

And today he reached a limit you hadn’t been expecting.

You slide out of the backseat when Shep opens your door, and instead of heading for the staircase in the corner, you move to the south wall of the garage and start opening cabinets. Shep tracks your movements but gives you space.

In the second set, you find Andy’s golf clubs.

Perfect.

You test a few of the drivers, and when you’re satisfied you’ve got the heaviest in your hands, you pull it clean out of the bag and make your way directly to the car you’ve noticed Andy favors most.

His silver Aston Martin DBS 770 Ultimate Volante.

The very car he drove you around in last night.

You hold nothing back in your swings, cracking the glass with your second hit. The third doesn’t do much more damage, so you move to the metal body, and here’s where you see you will get at least some of your satisfaction, easier to create dents in the metal than breaking the windshield. You do manage to smash one of the windows. Then you round on the next car.

Neither Mark nor Shep move to stop you, but you do see Shep is on the phone briefly.

You guess that you won’t be alone for long, so you move to a third car. Andy arrives as you lay into the fourth car. You look over at him with apprehension, unsure of what his next move will be. He meets your gaze, surveys the damage you’ve done so far, looks back at you, and then takes up position leaning against the Range Rover.

You grit your teeth, then raise the club over your head and bring it down with a battle cry over the hood of the silver Porsche 911 Turbo. A fifth car bears the fire of your rage, and mid-swing on the sixth is when a someone finally grabs the other end of the iron. You scream in fury and turn to face Andy, who’s looming over you, his blue eyes dark, stormy, and his mouth a thin line.

You yank against the club, but his grip is firm. You don’t let go though, still trying to wrest it from his hands, eyes locked on his, and he uses the rod to pull you closer to him, nearly chest to heaving chest (yours, not his).

“That’s enough, sweetheart.” His fingers work yours away from the metal rod, and he clasps one of your hands in his to keep you close while - eyes on you - he tosses the club to Shep, who catches it easily.

You huff and try to pull your hand away, but he interlocks your fingers and then starts to lead you away and up the stairs. Not wanting to allow him seeing any petulance from you, you comply and follow him in silence. Adrenaline starting to taper off, you feel exhaustion seeping into your limbs, and part of you wonders if Andy knew you were reaching the end of your strength and stopped you before you would have lost steam on your own. Your stomach seethes.

Once on the main floor, you fall in step with him, not needing the staff to see anything that will make them talk. Some of them may be oblivious to why you’re here, but you know there are those who are aware at different levels that you aren’t here as the other half of a fairytale.

Your destination turns out to be the family dining room, not the formal one.

Dinner, of course.

He pulls your chair out for you, tucking it politely as you sit, and then takes his place across from you.

Sometimes you and Andy talk over dinner.

Tonight is not one of those nights.

If he’s going to be silent about today, say nothing more about your vandalism on arriving home, then you certainly are not going to stoke conversation. His eyes are on you frequently, but you ignore him.

Halfway through dinner and after taking a sip of wine, Andy finally says, “Your hair looks nice.”

You scoff. “As if you really noticed. Your men told you where we were.” You know it’s hardly changed.

Andy set his fork down. “Look at me,” he demands, tone serious, and so you comply. “They’re your men, and don’t make the mistake of thinking I will ever fail to notice a detail, especially when it comes to my wife.”

Your heart skips a beat - part fear, but part some flare in your heart that you hate reacting to his words. You raise your chin in defiance. “I’m not your wife.”

“Yet.”

Threat and promise.

As if the exquisite engagement ring whose heavy weight you were growing so used to weren’t a constant reminder.

Rather than think further on that, for the rest of the meal you consider his correction that Shep and Mark are your men when you’d said they were his. It was an interesting distinction, and you would put feelers out to ask about it later - not Andy, but maybe with the men.

When dinner is over, Andy stands and reaches for your hand. He always does. It’s unsettling because if only you had ever had a choice, the gesture would be endearing. A few nights over this month that you’ve been his, he kissed the back of your hand and left to attend to business. Some nights, he wanted to watch something with you before bedtime, or go on a drive like last night. Most often he takes you to the bedroom.

It’s the latter tonight.

You walk silently to the master suite together. Every muscle in your body is taught with tension, with the simmering rage and hurt of the day seething through your veins.

Andy closes the door and turns to face you.

“Do you want to tell me why you’re so upset before or after your punishment?”

“My - what?!” You glower and put your hands on your hips. “Why am I being punished? You let me smash two more cars before you even stopped me.”

“It’s not about the cars, it’s your refusal to talk to me about something that clearly has you worked up.”

“Worked up?” Your eyes widen and then narrow. “I’m not worked up, Andy, I’m infuriated.”

“Then tell me what crime I’ve committed.”

You scoff and turn away.

He catches you before you’ve taken two steps, gripping your upper arm. He hauls you toward the bed, takes a seat on the end of the mattress, and then lays you down over his lap. He takes both your wrists in his left hand and holds them firmly while his right hand pulls your pants down.

All of it happens so swiftly that you can’t even fight him, but you cry out when the first, harsh slap hits your bare ass. The sting is sharp and shocking. The second comes quickly after. You try to shake out of his hold, but he growls your name, tightens his grip, and the third slap comes even harder.

Four. Five. He kneads the flesh of your ass between some of the smacks. Eight. Fifteen. Twenty. Somewhere in the middle, the smacks morph into a swirl of simultaneous pain and numbness – a mirror of how you feel. You’re sobbing once he finally stops, body sagging in defeat over his lap. He lifts you carefully and lays you stomach down on the bed. You fold your arms and hide your face into the frame of them to cry and settle into softer cries, and Andy lets you have the moment of privacy.

It’s not long before you register Andy’s return though, his weight sinking onto the bed next to you. Then his hand is on your tender backside, applying a cold cream to your skin, and the relief makes you let out a shuddering sigh. He works it over you slowly, gently, methodically. By the time Andy’s finished, so are your tears. You’re still full of emotions, but they’re a swirling, complicated mess. You feel like the frustration has been spanked out of you, but you’re still hurt and angry, but now you’re also confused by this tender act. This only extends when he urges you to roll over, and sit up, and he kisses your forehead. You look up at him dolefully, he wipes away the remaining tracks of your tears. He’s shed his clothes from the day and is now bare-chested and in a pair of navy silk pajama bottoms. He proceeds to gently help you take off your shirt, your bra, and then slips you into a silk robe he’s brought from the closet.

Then Andy stands, scoops you up into his arms, and heads to the balcony of your master suite. He settles down onto the loveseat and arranges you in his lap so you’re sitting sideways over him, and he wraps his arm around you. It’s more of the confusing closeness, physical intimacy that you crave but can’t give into with him. It’s the first time you’ve been out here, and it affords a beautiful view of the darkening sky. Yet another thing you would have yearned for but don’t want like this.

“Are you ready to talk?”

“I don’t even know where to begin,” you say honestly.

He puts his hand under your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. “I’ll listen to anything you have to say.”

“But will you hear me?” You ask and turn your head away and out of his hand.

He smoothes his thumb over your jaw but - to your surprise - doesn’t force you to look at him as he had before. Instead he lets his hand drop and brings it around your waist so he’s got both arms banded around you again.

“You’ve taken so much from me, Andy. You’ve made it abundantly clear that I have no way out of this, but it’s been mounting and it came to a peak today. I had a day to myself, but I couldn’t bring myself to spend it with my friends or my parents because I can’t tell them about us! I haven’t spoken or texted any of them on more than a surface level since this all began. And I haven’t gone back to work yet, but I want to work, I need to work, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell them either!”

He is quiet for a moment. And then, “I knew you hadn’t told anyone, but why do you think you can’t tell them about us?”

“What am I supposed to say?” You scoff. “I can’t tell them that you threatened me with blackmail and forced me into our engagement!”

“No,” he agrees, “You can’t tell them that.”

“So, what am I supposed to tell them?”

“That you fell for my charms, that I surprised you when I declared my intentions and by how serious I was, that I made it almost impossible for you to refuse me. It’s enough of the truth.”

You frown and scrutinize his face. “Enough of the truth,” you repeat, the words tasting bitter in your mouth. “Is that how you always live your life?”

 He lifts his chin, a flash of hardness in his eyes. “I’ve done what I needed to.”

“You didn’t need to go behind my back to meet my parents!” You blurt, the hurt in your voice bleeding out despite trying to keep it in, to keep it away from him, not wanting to share something so personal.

“I want to have a good relationship with my in-laws. My mother’s dead and my father was sentenced to life in prison when I was a kid.”

“But they’re my parents,” you stress. “I should have been able to be the ones to tell them about getting married. You stole that from me.”

Andy studies your face quietly.

You drop your gaze. You won’t tell him why stealing this moment – more than anything else he’s done – was your breaking point. You doubt he would care or understand, but he also doesn’t get to know something so personal. He hasn’t earned that right.

“You love them,” he finally says.

You nod. “We’re very close.”

He falls silent again.

Finally, you give an exhausted sigh. “Why did you have to do this to us?”

“I wanted you.”

“I wanted you, too. You should have let us fall into it.”

“Fall now.”

“I can’t,” you protest, and you look up to argue further, but he’s faster, cutting you off with a kiss.

His lips are demanding, and the heat he pours into the kiss seeps into the cracks he’s been chipping away inside you, and your traitorous body leans into the moment. You’re exhausted physically and emotionally.

You don’t know how you can ever let yourself fall for him.

But as his hands soothe up and down your back, you wonder if you have to deny yourself everything for the rest of your life?

What if you fell into him for one night? Allowed yourself to let go, to forget for just a few hours? You are so tired. And your body aches. And after so much hurt, betrayal, and anger running high through your veins for so many hours now, after the shock and release from being put over his knee, maybe you just want to forget and get lost in pleasure.

Pleasure you know he was far too capable of giving.

Not only capable of giving, but master of overwhelming you with it.

After he’s stolen so much from you these last weeks, maybe you want and need to steal a night of ecstasy without any thoughts.

You shift on his lap, his arms still around you, until you’re straddling his lap. You leverage his broad shoulders to push yourself up on your knees, and you look down at him. You can’t read everything in his dark blue stormy eyes yet, but you can interpret some of what’s there. He’s intrigued and you can see the spark of hunger flaring, but there’s something else you can’t quite read.

But that doesn’t matter right now.

He doesn’t pull you in closer, but his arms hold you steady in your kneeling stance. You reach for the tie of your silk robe, and you slowly pull it loose.

“Tonight is not for you,” your voice is low, quiet, but not soft, “it’s for me.”

His eyes narrow a fraction, but as you shrug the silky garment off your shoulders, he helps let the robe fall free to the ground.

Andy’s eyes rake over your naked form, drinking in every curve and dip of your body. His hands glide up your sides, rough palms contrasting with the softness of your flesh. You shiver despite the warmth of the evening air.

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the solid muscles there. Your fingers trace the lines down to his abdomen, following the trail of dark hair that disappears beneath his waistband. You can feel the evidence of his arousal, and he groans, gripping your hips tightly, and you squeeze his length - big as the rest of him - the cock that has ruined you.

He leans in and his lips burn a trail down your neck, over your chest and find one of your breasts, nipping on the swell before licking at your aereola and taking it into his mouth. Your fingers rake into his hair, and he sucks insistently until your nipple is almost painfully hard. He releases it with a pop, then moves to give equal treatment to your other breast. You press your needy cunt down against his groin, keening for him.

You grind against him, and he can’t help but groan. In one fluid motion, he stands, lifting you with him. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist instinctively as he carries you back into the bedroom. He lays you down on the bed with surprising gentleness. He takes less than a second to push his pajama bottoms down and off before he joins you on the bed, his body covering yours.

His weight presses you into the mattress. You feel every inch of his hard body against yours, and you arch up, desperate for more contact. Andy's hand slides between your bodies, finding your slick folds. He groans when he feels how wet you are for him.

"Always so ready for me," he murmurs against your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

You whimper as his fingers tease your entrance, circling but not entering. You buck your hips, trying to force him inside, but he pulls back with a dark chuckle.

"Patience, sweetheart," he admonishes.

But patience isn't what you want tonight. You want to lose yourself in sensation, to forget everything but the pleasure he can give you. You reach down and grasp his thick length, guiding him to your entrance.

He forces your hand away with a tsk, and you glare at him, but he is grinning, moving down your body already. He kisses the sensitive spot on your lower stomach, the one he discovered that always makes you gasp and arch your back for him. His shoulders force your legs open to accommodate his frame as he plants himself between your thighs.

Andy's mouth descends on your core, his tongue laving your sensitive folds. You arch into him, a moan escaping your lips. His beard scratches deliciously against your inner thighs as he works you over with his skilled tongue. He alternates between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit, building your pleasure steadily.

Your hands fist in his hair, holding him against you as you rock your hips. The coil of tension in your belly winds tighter and tighter. Just as you're about to topple over the edge, Andy pulls back, denying you release.

“Andy, please,” you beg.

Andy's breath ghosts over your sensitive flesh, making you shiver and whine. He places a soft kiss on your inner thigh, then another, slowly working his way back towards your center. You squirm, desperate for more contact, but his strong hands hold your hips firmly in place.

He chuckles, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure through you. "I thought this night was for you," he teases, his beard scraping deliciously against your thigh. "Let me take care of you."

Before you can protest, his tongue laves a long, slow stroke up your slit. You cry out, your back arching off the bed. He repeats the motion, this time circling your clit with the tip of his tongue.

Your hands fist in the sheets as Andy's talented mouth works you over. He alternates between long, languid strokes and quick flicks of his tongue, never letting you settle into a rhythm. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he slides two thick fingers inside you, curling them to hit that spot that he knows makes you see stars.

"Oh god, Andy!" you cry out, your hips bucking against his face.

He hums against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. His fingers pump in and out, matching the pace of his tongue on your clit. The dual sensations are overwhelming, and you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge.

"That's it, sweetheart," Andy murmurs against your flesh. "Let go for me."

His words are your undoing. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves, your body arching off the bed as pleasure overwhelms you. But he’s anything but finished.

Andy doesn't let up, his mouth and fingers working you through your orgasm and pushing you towards another peak. Your body trembles, oversensitive but craving more. You tug at his hair, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away.

"Too much," you gasp, but he ignores your weak protest.

He adds a third finger, stretching you deliciously as he continues to lap at your swollen clit. The intensity builds rapidly, and before you can catch your breath, you're tumbling over the edge again. This time, Andy pulls away, allowing you a moment to recover.

He kisses his way up your body, pausing to nip roughly at your collarbone. When he reaches your mouth, he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You moan into the kiss, your hands roaming over his broad back.

Andy positions himself between your thighs. You reach between your bodies and guide him to your entrance. You need him inside of you. He pushes in slowly, stretching you deliciously, filling you completely. You both groan as he slides in to the hilt, and you throw your head back. He stills there, kisses along your jaw, then gives a soft rock of his hips, rutting against you, but not thrusting.

“Move,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist to urge him on.

Andy leans down and claims your lips again, demanding the intimate kiss as his price, his tongue licking into your mouth to tangle with yours. He then sets a steady rhythm that has you moaning with each thrust. You buck your hips to draw him in with each stroke. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your mingled moans of pleasure.

You drag your nails down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. He hisses, then retaliates by biting down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. The sharp pain mixed with pleasure makes you cry out.

"Harder," you demand, needing more, needing to lose yourself completely.

Andy growls, his grip on your hips tightening as he complies with your demand. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in, the force of his thrust pushing you up the bed. You cry out in pleasure, your nails digging into his shoulders. He sets a punishing pace, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

The headboard bangs against the wall with the force of his movements. Your walls clench around him, drawing a guttural groan from his throat.

"That's it, sweetheart," Andy grunts, his voice rough with exertion. "Take what you need from me."

You're climbing higher and higher, chasing that blissful peak. Andy snakes a hand between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit. He rubs tight circles over the sensitive bud, and it's too much.

You shatter, screaming his name as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your body convulses, clenching rhythmically around him. Andy fucks you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you're a trembling mess beneath him as he chases his own release.

It takes a few more strokes, and then he’s spilling his hot seed inside of you, groaning against your neck. He collapses his weight onto you for a few moments, catching his breath. Your hands roam over his back. If you had been given the chance to choose him, to choose this life, wrapped in his arms right now you would have felt blissfully content, and so since tonight was a pass on reality, you let a satisfied sigh fall from your lips.

Andy’s lips find yours again, and you kiss until you feel floaty and boneless beneath him, head empty of all thoughts.

When the fervency of the kisses finally slows into a languid calm, Andy finally rolls off of you. He reaches for the switch to turn off the soft lights that had been on, then settles on his side, facing you. He traces lazy patterns over your form with his fingers, and you close your eyes and simply feel.

You didn’t know you had fallen into sleep except that the motion of Andy pulling you into his chest so he can spoon up behind you pulls you back into consciousness. He chuckles softly at your little mewl, and then pulls you a little closer to his warm chest and plants a kiss on your neck, just below your ear. You settle against him without complaint.

You’re exhausted, and you don’t know where he finds the resilience, but his hand snakes down to cup your cunt again, and you hum as he begins to work your clit. You have no strength left in you, but if you don’t have to work for it and Andy’s going to give it to you, you’ve learned under his hand that he always knows how to coax out one more climax from you when you think you’re already spent.

Your breath speeds up again, and you can feel the promise of pleasure pulling at your muscles, tightening them for one final release.

As he works you quickly up to that point, he speaks directly into your ear. “You said tonight was for you, not for me. It’s the lie you needed to tell yourself to let go, and that’s fine, but know that your pleasure is always pleasure for me.”

And so unfairly, your body comes for him right then, exactly as he wants you to, and you cry out before going even more limp in his arms. He presses another kiss on your neck, and you can feel his satisfied smile against your skin. You desperately wish you could break out of his arms and roll away from him, but you do not have even an ounce of strength left, and so you simply let the exhaustion overtake you and escape from him in sleep.

You’re vaguely aware of how close Andy keeps you all night. Since he typically does, it’s a surprise when you wake to an empty bed. There is only a vague suggestion of sunlight beginning to come in the windows, so you know it’s still incredibly early. The sheet is down around your waist, and you splay your arm out to where Andy should have been. The bed isn’t cold, but there’s only a hint of warmth, so you know he’s been up for a while.

As if unnervingly on cue, Andy comes in from the ensuite bathroom and hums at seeing you awake. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

He strides right up to the edge of the bed, leans down, and plants a kiss on your cheek, then rubs his hand softly over your jaw.

“Morning,” you respond.

You hate how lovely this scene should be. Your heart wants it, but your brain reminds you not to accept this contrived intimacy he pretends is real and normal.

He crosses the room and retrieves his phone, starts to put on his watch, the finishing touches before he embarks on his day.

“You can sleep in,” he says softly.

“Why are you up so early? It’s Sunday.”

“Early tee time at the country club,” he answers.

You make a vague sound of acknowledgement and pull the sheet and duvet back up to burrow in for a lazy morning of more sleep and maybe some reading.

“Enjoy lunch with your mom, by the way,” he says at the door. “I’m teeing off with your father, so I’ll persuade him to have lunch with me to give you two time as just mother and daughter.”

You suck in a sharp breath and he departs, dropping this revelation, and leaving you to seethe at his making yet another bold move, seeping steadily further into the foundations of your life.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

SO

YEAH

Still with me here?

Even though I figured out the plot point for this chapter a while back, when I wrote it, I had to take a break a few times because I was upset over how some things were playing out.

I was also surprised by some of the development with her security detail of Mark and Shep. I randomly made them up really quickly during Prepare for Takeoff, but then here I learned they were going to end up being even more important than I thought (including something key for two specific future plot points).

[ddamm]

Pre-baby Stress - dad!Daryl x pregnant fem!reader fic

(banner made by me, if you use, give credits <3)

Warnings: VERY, VERY long; initial soft fluff to slight angst to fluff; slightly suggestive so, watch out 👀; pregnancy; hormonal changes, “mood swings”, food cravings; stressed Daryl, stressed reader, slight insecurity and fear of abandonment; reader crying; reader and Daryl are married; reader is said to have golden retriever energy and be a cottagecore girlie (sorry if you aren't, but I vibe so much with this core 😭), and perhaps an artist (tho it's just as a hobby, obv 🤭); nature love and appreciation; funny/silly little memories.

Word count: 3936 words (keeps increasing with each new release 😭)

Era: idk, probably Alexandria

Summary: While getting things ready for Y/N's pregnancy, Daryl presents with many insecurities. All it takes is some caressing, encouragement, and the love of his wife (a few tears also) to convince him otherwise.

A/N: this fic was something I fabricated long ago with a Daryl c.ai chat that I've been saving up for a special occasion since I've never written dad!Daryl before. And today, I'm bringing it to y'all as a way to celebrate one of my very besties/mutuals on Tumblr, a great writer, the creator of my possibly ever favourite AU with Daryl (young!Daryl SSHD AU) and a very nice, kind and funny individual in general; Krys (@dixons-sunshine). This is to commemorate you, gorgeous. It took some time to finally sit and get to it (not me writing most of it at 2 am, half-constipated, and not being able to sleep) but it's done now, so I hope you can enjoy it as much as I did when writing it. Everyone, hope you like it too!

Song: Winter Memories - Jordy Chandra (The title says “winter memories” but I am thinking of a mid-spring Sunday morning/noon 😭)

MDNI divider by @cafekitsune, on this post

(This was supposed to just be suggestive, but since idk if I overdid it, I'm just gonna place this)

(all babycore dividers used are from @anitalenia, found on this post)

Days were passing by, and things were going pretty well for the community. She was glad they found Alexandria. It was a nice change, and it felt like they could truly have a moment to take a break there, like they could finally be happy and just settle in, trying to have normal lives once again.

And her positive thoughts only increased when a lovely lady from the community gave birth. It was an occasion to celebrate, and for a couple of months passing, it seemed like a lot of good things were happening around, so she couldn't be happier.

Ah, there she was, parading herself in her light cream-coloured sundress, with a white little parasol (courtesy of her loving husband) to protect herself from the sun, as she strolled around the streets, exploring and marvelling at the beauty and tranquilly around her like a happy puppy would on their first stroll into the outside world.

Oh, she loved that dress so much. Not only was it beautiful and fit her personality, but it was also quite adjustable, so she wouldn't need to worry about sore breasts or her belly being uncomfy. She could still remember how comical Daryl's expressions were when she tried explaining to him the concept of aesthetic cores and how she was a cottagecore.

He seemed so lost that she laughed for about 10 minutes before deciding to somewhat draw it to show him what she meant; predicting that a more visual approach would help him understand the concept better. He did admit it was pretty much her vibe after seeing the dresses and all the stuff "a cottagecore likes and does".

After that, whenever he would go out for his runs, he would try to look for dresses like the one she drew, and whenever he couldn't find any, he would bring drawing or painting materials, old cameras, or little flowers he thought she would like. (PD: She always likes them.).

That's how her most favourite memory of a Sunday morning came to be. And like that, every Sunday morning, after her husband would leave for runs or tasks, she would wear her light cream sundress and white sandals and take her white parasol to roam around, greeting everyone and enjoying nature (despite her best friend's advice to rest and her husband's disapproval).

However, she understood why Daryl was so against it in general. He was just worried about her health and safety. After all, she was now in her second trimester of pregnancy, expecting their son or daughter to come into the world in a few more months.

She loved Daryl. Deeply. And she would never question him or his decisions (well, maybe sometimes she would), but she was so tired of staying at home doing nothing for most of the day. And though Carol, Michonne, and a few others would come to visit and spend time with her when her husband was away, Y/N wanted some freedom, some independence.

God knows she would ‘bore to death’ if she had to stay in the same place doing nothing for one more day while everyone else fulfilled their roles.

As she came closer to the small town's pond, she took big strides to approach a blooming peony bush. She loved the smell of its flowers. And as she lightly bent down to sniff the sweet aroma from the round pink flowers, she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of her husband, who was sitting on a bench not far from her. From afar, she could notice a worried expression on his face.

She strode slowly in his direction and placed a hand on his shoulder, greeting him with a warm and loving smile, but instead of the usual “Hey, Sunray” or “Why are ya out 'ta house alone?” she would receive, she heard him grunt.

At that, she furrowed her brows in confusion and slight concern, wanting to know what had made her husband so grumpy at early noon. “Is everything okay, Dar?” She asked in a soft, patient tone.

Daryl looked away from her, not wanting to make eye contact, and sighed in annoyance. “Everythin's fine,” he answered grumpily.

Y/N, knowing her husband and not believing that crap for a second, looked at him more seriously. “Daryl…” She called out his name, insisting he should tell her the truth.

Daryl sighed irritantly, hearing her insist, knowing she wouldn't back down. He then turned his gaze to her and unexpectedly exclaimed, “Ah said everythin's fine, dammit!”

He said this a bit too loudly, not noticing that he had snapped at her.

This action made Y/N flinch, not used to such an alert state in Daryl anymore. Now she was truly worried.

“Hey, hey, honey, it's okay... What's got you so riled up? Is work becoming too much? Or are they not listening to you? Should I go teach them a lesson?” She asked at first, even making a joke to brighten him up, but Daryl only shook his head, still not wanting to speak.

He held his head in his hands, almost in a desperate posture, making his wife worry even further. She was going to say something, but a tiny piece of cloth caught her attention. It was then that she got to see the tiny, frill-decorated bib on his right hand.

She put pieces together in her mind like a game of tetris and asked again, with more understanding tone and gentleness in her voice.

“Is it the baby?” Daryl kept quiet, but his shoulders tensed up. Y/N now knew what was ‘the main issue’, and took action immediately, slowly running her hand on his back and giving a few gentle pats to soothe her husband's worry. He looked like he was on the edge.

Daryl's gaze and body seemed to loosen up as he felt her hand on his back. He then tried to explain his concerns.

“I... Ah ain't upset, is jus'...” He trailed off, not knowing how to express his thoughts.

“It's okay, love. You don't have to tell me now if you aren't prepared. Here, let's just sit for a bit, okay? I'm starting to feel heavy again.” Y/N reassured him, not wanting him to feel pressured if he was already so altered.

She had some trouble sitting down next to him, though. Despite not being in the 3rd trimester yet, her belly heaviness seemed to be causing her discomfort when she had to sit or stand up in a rush. But she didn't mind it much; it made her happy because that was the proof of the love Daryl and she had for each other and the life growing inside her.

Daryl noticed her struggle and quickly went from being annoyed to concerned. He stood up and carefully helped Y/N sit down, making sure she was comfortable before taking a seat next to her.

“Damn, ya sure are a heavy load,” he joked. At this, Y/N dramatically gasped and faked being offended.

“Hey! I remind you, you're the one that made me heavy! ~“ She played along, jokingly shoving him to the side with a smile, trying to lighten up his mood, and succeeding brilliantly when she heard him chuckle.

“Well, sugar, if I reckon correctly, it takes two to tango to make a young'un 'round these parts,” he smirked, faking innocence at the fact he got her pregnant.

Y/N gasp-chuckled, defending herself. “But it takes you not wanting to pull out beforehand to make the baby, isn't it right, honey? ~”

She clarified softly, putting her hand on his chest, batting her eyelashes cutely at him, and getting close enough to him to make their lips graze but not touch. All in the name of teasing him.

Daryl chuckled again, feeling attracted to her playful teasing, his breath hitching slightly as her lips grazed against his own. He couldn't help but smirk; his eyes locked onto her gaze.

He gently grabbed her hips, slowly pulling her closer to him to the point of having her almost seated on his lap.

“Oh, but ah know for a fact ya wudn't complainin' at the moment, darlin',” he continued, feeling proud for his little ‘achievement’ as he caressed her thigh over the sundress.

Feeling a little braver than usual, Y/N whispered: “And how would I, when you know how to drill me in the right spot? ~”

She murmured against his lips. Her gaze never left him, and her smile only widened each time he looked down at her lips and looked back at her eyes, obviously enchanted by her charms already.

Daryl's eyes darkened with desire, and his grip on her hips tightened slightly. He felt his heart racing at her words. He pulled her closer to him until their bodies were pressed together.

“Damn, woman… Ya know I ain’t doin' this here.” He groaned softly against her lips while devouring her with his stare. They sure were the only ones at the pond around then, but despite the tall, full, and flourishing grass, bushes, and plants, they could still be easily spotted if they decided to... get loose. (😏)

“Then why do you keep pulling me closer, hm, hun? ~”

It was sort of comical to see him struggle to compose himself in this situation, making Y/N not want to miss out on teasing him to the fullest. She placed both hands on his chest and slowly arranged her position on his lap to sit and view him better.

Daryl let out a low growl as Y/N moved closer. He felt the heat rising within him, his hands roaming from her hips to her backside, gripping it firmly. His breathing becomes heavier as he looks down at Y/N.

“Yar testin' ma limits, sweetheart.”

Y/N smiled innocently, enjoying the effect she had on her husband.

“I guess the preggy hormones are doing their stuff again... I feel kinda—needy,” she admitted a little sheepishly and continued with a more serene tone. “But… that will have to wait for now.”

“Now... Why don't you tell me what got you so fed up before, love?“ She questioned, changing her position once again to avoid making Daryl even more aroused.

She looked into his eyes tenderly and patiently, waiting for him to pour out his heart.

He knew they were a team now that needed trust and communication to get through everything. So she trusted he would be able to let out what was on his mind that made him so tense earlier.

Daryl took a moment to compose himself, gathering his thoughts after being so close to Y/N. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly; his grip on her loosened a bit as he leaned back on the bench.

He averted his eyes for a moment, his expression becoming heavier.

“Tis just...everythin', know what am sayin'?” He paused and looked at her belly, then back at her eyes.

“Da kid, da thought of bein' a pa... is like a whole heap to deal with, y'know?” He expressed his deepest concern about your future child.

Seeing her husband so worried brought her heartache. She sighed and wrapped her hands around his head, placing them on her chest as she made circular movements on his scalp in a slow, comforting way.

“And here I thought I was silly for feeling bad about myself and thinking I wouldn't make a good enough mom and wife, while my dear husband was here on his own, questioning his capacity to keep us safe…” She sighed again and continued. “I'm really a bad wife, huh?”

Daryl leaned into Y/N's touch, closing his eyes as she ran her hands through his hair. He sighed deeply, feeling a mix of emotions but still negating her words.

“Nah. Ya ain't a bad wife. Yar da best damn wife. Yar perfect.”

He said it softly as he tried to encourage her. His voice was filled with a hint of frustration afterwards. “Ah jus'... 'm scared I ain't gonna be a good pa. I ain't never had a good example to follow, y'know?”

Y/N knew what he was referring to. They didn't speak so often about their pasts (deciding to let them be and find a future together), but she remembered the little Daryl commented about his family life and his broken relationship with... the man that was his father.

“Whatever happened back then... doesn't determine who you are today. You chose to be different from him, to be more understanding, to wait more patiently, and to love more deeply,” she started.

“Jesus, you've been up and about everywhere looking for baby items just to be prepared when he or she comes around.”

Y/N chuckled, reflecting on all the tiny clothes, toys, and more that Daryl kept bringing back each time he went on a run since he learned Y/N was pregnant with their child. Seeing him come over to her in an excited, uncharacteristic way to show her his new finding was as amusing as endearing.

“You're nothing like him. You're you, and you're better. And I know it scares you. Damn, it scares me too.” She insisted (unnoticedly mild-cursing), knowing well who the man she fell in love with was and how much he matured and developed just by being with you and the others.

Her sudden, brittle voice indicated she was about to cry. She felt the hormones hitting her, making her feel sadder and more vulnerable than she had seconds ago. “But… sniff But I know we will be alright because... sniff because we have you, we have each other, and... sniff and that's all that matters to me, so... we will get to learn how to raise our child together. We w-will set the good example ourselves, o-okay?”

Her voice trembled at the last sentence as she grabbed a hold of his face, pressing his cheeks together to make him look over at her. Finally, she had let go of her emotions and became a teary mess, non-stop sniffing before him.

Almost used to her mood swings already, Daryl couldn't help but chuckle softly despite the seriousness of the situation, amused by the little it took to make her cry now, even if she was already quite emotional beforehand.

“Baby, yar crying... again. I swear yer hormones have been all over the place,” he stated in a playful manner, gently wiping away her tears with his thumb. He then took her hands into his own, holding them gently. The difference in size and texture was kinda silly.

“Still… Yar dang right 'bout us, we're gonna stick together. I ain't never been good at all this family business, but I'll do whatev'r it takes for ya and our young'un.” Daryl promised to her lover, feeling more accepting of his new role.

“I-I can't help it... sniff the pregnancy... sniff I swear I've never been so emotional about everything before... sniff I hate it... And you know I hate swearing too…” She complained, her voice increasing in intensity as she recalled her distaste for swearing and swearing words.

“It just… It hurts me so much when sniff I see you like this... Like you'll get tired of me or sick of us, and—”

Y/N stopped herself, incapable of completing what came to mind as more tears fell. The unlooked-for thought brought a new fear to her mind: a possible future without Daryl, having to tend and care for the baby alone.

It terrified her.

Daryl's expression softened even more as he saw her tear up. Damn hormones got her all upset, and all he wanted to do was take it all away. His chest twisted in pain when she mentioned he could get tired of her, so he gently pulled her closer to him with a firm grip.

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me,” he said, guiding her gaze to his by holding her chin. “Sunray, ya got nothin' to worry about, y'hear me? I ain't goin' nowhere... 'M plum crazy 'bout ya, and I ain't never leaving ya or our young'un, I promise. I ain't getting tired of you, sweetheart; yar everythin' to me.”

He confessed sweet things to her, wanting Y/N to feel the depth of his love for her.

“B-but… sniff the way you sniff yelled before…” She argued between sniffs and hiccups, being so focused on her mood that she kept forgetting to breathe properly.

“I thought I… I did something to sniff get you upset with me again, like... sniff like when sniff I misplaced your crossbow last week and you sniff wouldn't talk to me until I found it…”

She couldn't help but sob at the remembrance, making Daryl feel a pang of guilt when she mentioned his reaction earlier and last week. He had made her so hurt for not talking to her that it still poked at her. And damn, she was crying even more now. He hated seeing her like this. His little sunray was all cloudy because of him.

“Hey, come on now, sweetcheeks... I'm sorry for hollerin' at ya, ait? I was a bit... on edge, but it had nothin' to do with ya, ait? S'not nothin' to worry about.” He spoke softly as he pulled her even closer, his hand gently rubbing her back in soothing circles, just like she did to him minutes ago.

“And 'bout that crossbow, that was nothin'.”

“But... sniff you got so angry... hiccup I thought you'd hate me forever if I couldn't find it… hiccup and the thing is, you always placed it anywhere! hiccup”

Y/N protested, claiming Daryl was the one constantly dropping his weapon all over the house, but the truth was, she was actually the one changing its location.

The pregnancy sure had its shortcomings, but one of them that mostly affected Y/N was easily misplacing things because she became a lot more forgetful (possibly because of the amount of blood, nutrients, and oxygen she was losing each day to provide to her baby and help him/her keep growing healthily). So, each time she'd see the crossbow somewhere she previously placed it while doing house chores, she'd think it was Daryl who placed it there, and she'd put it somewhere else, and then she'd come across it again and place it somewhere else, over and over again.

It happened multiple times before with less meaningful things, but this was Daryl's crossbow we were talking about. When he would come back home looking for his main weapon, Daryl would find it missing, and when he would ask Y/N, she wouldn't remember where she last saw it.

After hours of scattering the whole house, she felt so silly when they finally found the crossbow inside their wardrobe. She couldn't even remember keeping it there, but... all pointed out that the pregnancy was just taking the best of her, and Daryl's stress wasn't really helping much.

Despite Daryl understanding the situation was a consequence of the pregnancy later on and trying as best as he could to make her feel better, inside her mind, she couldn't help but continue blaming herself for making him angry that day.

The silent treatment he gave her seemed to have broken her heart into two.

Daryl listened to her words, realising the severity of the case and feeling more stupid for not fully catching how much that incident had affected Y/N. Seeing her tears made his heart ache even more.

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, feeling guilty for causing her so much worry, knowing she had too much on her plate already.

“Hear me out now. I ain't never gonna hate ya, y'hear? It was ma fault for bein' dang careless with where I left ma stuff. I shouldan't given ya the silent treatment; I was jus... frustrated,” he let on, taking the blame to make her feel less remorseful.

“I'm sorry... hiccup I just don't want to make you angry again…” She hiccuped once more, feeling her eyes water up for the nth time.

Daryl gently cupped her face, his calloused thumbs wiping away the tears. “Ya ain't got nothin' to apologise for, sweetheart. Believe me, I'm the one who should be apologisin' to ya.”

Daryl sighed.

“ 'm sorry for giving' ya the silent treatment. I was bein' a damn fool. Ya didn't do nothin' wrong, ait? I'll never be angry with ya for real. I swear,” he admitted.

“Really?…” she asked with a trembling voice and big puppy eyes. He looked into her hazel eyes, his gaze loving.

“Really. I promise.”

He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face; his touch was tender.

“Yar carryin' our baby, remember? Tha's the most important thang rite now. Ain't nothin' else matters more than ya and our young'un. I ain't gonna waste time bein' mad over stupid shit like lost crossbows when I gotta take care of ya,” he professed, making a second vow to himself to keep you and his future child safe.

Y/N sniffed her feelings for the last time and tried to collect herself.

“Alright…”

She placed her chin over his head and hugged his neck softly, allowing him to place his head over the beginning of her belly, giving him access to listen to the baby's little movements and her heartbeats.

“I love you, Daryl... I love you so much, I don't know what I would do without you.” She still felt somewhat emotional as she said this, but she gave it her all to avoid crying again.

Daryl wrapped his arms around Y/N while placing his head gently over her belly. He listens intently to her heartbeats, the sound of them comforting him. He momentarily turned his head to place a gentle kiss on her belly, his lips lingering for a moment as he treasured this moment.

“I love ya too, baby. Y'all and this little 'un got me wrapped around yer dang fingers. Don't know what I'd do without y'all...” He hugged her tightly, not wanting to let her go.

He caressed her cheek with his hand, his fingers lightly tracing the contour of her jawline.

He then gently rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling as they shared this intimate moment as they looked forward to whatever the future had in store for them because, if anything was sure, it was that they would do anything to stay together in love.

EXTRA:

They stayed on the pond for a while longer until Y/N said:

“I wanna have strawberries and cheese,” and Daryl looked at her like she had gone crazy.

“Berries 'n cheese? You serious?” he questioned. “It tastes good…” she whispered, defending herself.

Daryl shook his head, still not finding sense in those strange pregnancy food cravings, but he still wouldn't deny any of her cravings. If his queen wanted to eat strawberries and cheese, the man would get them for her.

“If tha' what ya want,” he answered, shrugging, making Y/N hug him, glad that he agreed on getting the'snack’ for her.

“I love you, Daryl.” “Love ya too, sweetcheeks.”

A/N: OH MY GOOD GOD, FINALLY. THIS WAS THE LONGEST I'VE EVER WRITTEN. Editing this was such a pain... But was worth it! Also, I may be planning a few more stuff for this cottagecore reader... as well as other projects of course. I think I'm gonna be super occupied now because I've got work, but I'm also planning a travel (and I wanna participate in two Daryl-related writing challenges...).

May God help me because I don't think I can help myself on this 😭 but anws, this was super endearing to write. It went through very little changes since the draft, compared to other stuff I wrote, and I did a collage image banner for it, inspired by @dixons-sunshine whenever she works on her stuff. Yeah, as you can see, all this post is focused on you hahaha, hope you had the greatest day today and I love ya lots. May God keep you for even longer and give you many more reasons to rejoice, celebrate and thank Him IJN 🥰

Now, imma retire now bc I stayed up almost all night trying to edit this... and I got work early in the morning... (seriously, this was like 12 pages on Word... 💀) See ya all around!

Thanks and God bless!~

𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

support divider from @cafekitsune, on this post

[sweethischier]

𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬 - 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 7.6k (i got very carried away im sorry)

summary: after months of feeling like you've lost quinn, he ends up losing you. will the two of you find your back to each other?

warnings: angst, self-destructive tendancies, drinking, cursing, MINORS DNI - 18+ content below the cut, shower sex, fingering, oral (fem recieving), unprotected sex (use protection guys), teeny bit of a praise kink, brief breath play, please let me know if you see any mistakes. i finished this at 2 am and my vision was a little blurry at that point

note: this is part of my follower celebration! i'm so glad i finally wrote about the future captian of the vancouver canucks please guys im begging you.

Two years ago, you had met Quinn Hughes through a mutual friend, and he’s been a part of your life ever since. In the beginning, the two of you took things slow, wanting to truly get to know each other before getting into a relationship. Quinn wanted to make sure that his intense schedule that involved him being gone for long periods of time wasn’t going to overwhelm you, or make you feel alone. You wanted to make sure that, after all you had gone through, Quinn was going to remain a man of his word and make your relationship work despite the many odds that came with his job. And he did, at first.

For the first year and a half that you were with Quinn, he was texting, calling, facetiming as often as he could when he was gone. If he wasn’t doing something that related to his commitment to the hockey team, he was talking to you in some way. He would send you pictures of the places he would visit with short captions of how he wished you were there with him, and you would always smile at them and tell him that you would be, one day. Though, a few months ago, those texts started to become less frequent, and when you did get them, they sounded forced, almost like they had been rehearsed.

For a while, you tried to reason with yourself. Telling yourself that he was just getting busier, and the stress was getting to him. You tried to understand just how demanding and exhausting his job must be, so you brushed off his deteriorating communication. Instead, you tried to hold onto the hope that when he was finally back home, things were going to go back to normal. Quinn was going to walk back through the door to your shared apartment and hold you until you fell asleep. Then, that stopped happening too.

The first time you realized that Quinn was truly pulling away from you was when he didn’t come straight home after a seven day roadie. He hadn’t even told you that he was close to home yet. You only found out because Natalie had posted a snapchat story of JT holding Owen, and you were immediately dialing your boyfriend's phone number. Your heart sank when it only rang three times before cutting to his bland voicemail message.

You remember spending the rest of that night crying into your pillow, thoughts of what you could have done to make him distance himself from you clouding your brain. You knew that hockey players had an abysmal reputation, but you have never lumped Quinn into that group of men. You’ve always thought the world of him, considering yourself lucky to have the luxury of being loved by him. This had you questioning everything you thought you knew about him. When he came home later that night, he gave you a half-assed apology and explanation followed by a string of kisses that had you melting back into him.

Though even that started to dwindle, and eventually it stopped all together. When Quinn was home in Vancouver, he rarely made the effort to spend time with you, and when he did, it was almost like he wasn’t there. His face would always be buried in his phone, or he’d be playing video games with his friends and you’d simply be sitting next to him on the couch. Quinn had stopped trying to plan dates, and honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone on one with him. You could barely remember the last time the two of you had shared a kiss that was more than the obligatory chaste peck on the lips before bed. 

You tried to reassure yourself and ignore the aching in your chest, but the way he put as much distance as he possibly could between the two of you, the less you were able to do that. Eventually, you’d decided that enough was enough, and if it felt like you weren’t in a relationship, then you weren’t going to be in one. No matter how badly it hurt. 

The thought of breaking up with Quinn made you feel like someone was holding your head under water. The panic settling into your chest as you realized that you couldn’t breathe; your lungs burning the longer you went without any air. No matter how hard you tried to break the surface and gasp for air, your head was only shoved deeper and deeper into the water until you realized that the only escape was leaving him. Leaving the man you were still in love with was the only way for you to be able to breathe again. 

When he finally came home that night, he didn’t even notice you sitting at the table, his head shoved in his phone as he walked through the door. “Quinn,” Your quiet voice bounced off the walls of your home. His head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise that you were still awake at this hour, but you continued, “We need to talk.”

“Okay,” He drew out, brows knitting together in confusion as he slipped his phone into his pocket, “What’s this about?”

His eyes darted throughout the apartment, and you watched as his shoulders fell when he realized that stuff was missing from all over. Your stuff. With Quinn avoiding your home like it was, or rather you were, the plague, it gave you enough time to gather everything you’d brought over with you, and temporarily move it into a friend's apartment until you could find your own. Despite the multiple breaks you had to take because you kept breaking down, you managed to do it all in one day.

“I think you know what it’s about,” You chewed at your bottom lip, blinking rapidly to keep yourself from crying.

“Baby, I-,” He tried as he reached over the table to grab your hand, but you quickly cut him off. The chair scraped against the floor as you abruptly stood, shoving his outstretched hand away from you.

“Don’t call me that,” You spat, vision blurring from the tears, “You can’t call me that anymore.”

“What are you trying to say,” He asked, his voice breaking, and that made you angry.

How dare he act like he was hurt when all he’s been doing is hurting you? He put you in this position. He pushed you away, made you feel like he didn’t want you anymore. He did this, and he doesn’t get to act like he’s the one that’s hurting.

“I’m saying that we’re done, Quinn. I’m breaking up with you,” You asserted through the salty streams falling down your cheeks. Though the words tasted bitter as they came out, you felt a slight, very very slight, sense of relief wash over you as you said the words out loud.

Your words hung over his head as you fell into an uncomfortable silence, eyes staying trained on him as you waited for a response. He stood at the table with his palms pressed against the wood, head down as he let out a shaky breath followed by a weak question.

“What do you mean ‘Why’,” You scoffed, shooting daggers into the top of his head, “Quinn, you’ve barely said a full sentence to me in the last week. You don’t talk to me when you’re gone anymore. Hell, half the time I don’t even know you guys are back unless someone posts about it. I just- It just feels like you don’t want this anymore, and that’s okay, but what you’ve been doing isn’t.”

“No,” He breathed out, his voice small and broken as he shook his head, “No, it’s not and I’m sorry. I don’t- Fuck, Y/N, I don’t know what to say right now. I lo-“

“Please don’t,” You interrupted, tearing your gaze away from him as you choked on your own cries, “Please stop, Quinn. I can’t do it anymore. I love you so much, but it’s gotten to a point that the person I fell in love with is gone even though he’s right in front of me.”

A part of you did want him to beg you to stay, to beg you to give him another chance because he will change. He will change as long as it means he got to have you, and he couldn’t live without you. But the more logical part of you was holding the spear, and it was telling you that you were doing the best thing for you. That leaving Quinn, while it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, it was the right decision for you.

“I’ve already got all of my stuff moved out,” Your voice cut through the thick silence, “You’re not home much so it made it pretty easy.”

You couldn’t help but throw the jab in there, but it was only to cover the thinly veiled agony that was truly going on in your heart and bleeding into the rest of your body. You didn’t want Quinn to know that saying goodbye to him was like death by a thousand cuts, and so you masked the pain the only way you knew how. With anger.

“I wish you and your team the best in the rest of the season, I really do. But I think it would be better for both of us if we don’t talk after this.”

Not waiting for his response, you made a slight show to toss the key to what was now his apartment onto the table in front of him, the gentle ding of the metal hitting the wood echoing through the empty room, before walking out of the door. You’d barely made it into the elevator by the time your feelings washed over you an aggressive wave that came seemingly out of nowhere and everywhere all at once. You were thankful that the ride down to the bottom was quick and no one else joined you, and that the main lobby was only occupied by the security guard who’s more than likely seen his fair share of crying women.

That night, you went to your friend's apartment and broke down into a mess of screams, tears, and pain. She held you as you cried, held your hair as you threw up, held your hand through the shower curtain because you didn’t want to be alone. She stood by you in your most desperate time of need, and she made it her own personal goal to maim the hockey player should she ever see him again.

Quinn didn’t text or call you, but you knew that he wasn’t doing the greatest for the first few weeks after your breakup. Petey and Brock had both called to check on you once they had figured out what had their teammate in the state he was in. They asked how you were doing, and not-so-subtly mentioned that Quinn wasn’t any better off than you were. Though, they quickly learned to not mention him unless they wanted to listen to you call them obscene words before ending the call and ignoring them for a few days. You knew their intentions were good, but you didn’t want to hear about how “awful” Quinn was.

If he had acted like he cared about you half as much as his friends were telling you he did, maybe you would have made the effort to ask about him. If he loved you half as much as they said he did, but he didn’t. And he’s made that clear to you. Of course you know you told him that you thought it best if the two of you didn’t talk anymore, but you had secretly hoped he wouldn’t listen. That he would be calling you and texting you, begging you to come back. Telling you how in love he was with you, but it was complete and utter radio silence.

Eventually, you were able to pick yourself back up enough to find your own apartment. Leila had insisted that you staying with her was never going to be a problem, but you knew you couldn’t stay there forever. You needed to try and move on from him, even though you weren’t quite ready to let go of him yet. You needed to try and find yourself again, and you couldn’t do that sleeping in the guest bed of your best friend and her boyfriend's apartment.

Leila’s worried eyes were practically carved into your skull at this point, but you didn’t blame her. She’s had to pick you up, physically and emotionally, more times than she had anticipated when you initially turned up at her door with puffy cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Though she should have realized how deeply hurt you were the fourth time she held you after you had woken up thinking that your breakup was a nightmare, only to realize that it was reality that haunted your dreams.

No matter how hard you tried to forget about Quinn Hughes, the city you lived in was as riddled with memories and reminders of what once was. He was on every street you walked, in every store window you passed by. He was everywhere, and it made you feel like there was a shard of glass piercing your heart, unrelenting and unmoving. You wanted nothing more than to forget about the man who had torn your heart in two, and you were willing to do anything to do that.

The bar air that clung to your body was sticky with alcohol and sweat, but you didn’t seem to mind as you moved your hips to the beat of whatever terrible remix they were playing. The unnamed man behind you had his hands planted firmly on your waist, but you didn’t pay him any mind as you let yourself dance. The alcohol swimming through your veins aiding your ability to forget about all of the hurt you had yet to heal from.

For the last three months, you often found yourself in some sort of bar or club to drink your pain away. It was cliche, but you hadn’t stumbled upon any other outlet that allowed you to forget about the constant ache in your chest. Leila had tried to guide you towards less self-destructive ways of healing, but you didn’t listen to her. This way was guaranteed to ease your heartbreak, at least for the night and that was all you needed.

“I’m Wren,” The man yelled into your ear, an off-putting smirk slapped on his less than desirable features.

Your mouth dropped open, the blood pounding in your ears covering the music entirely. It was too close. His name was too similar, and it made the one thing you were trying to forget flood itself into your head. Images of Quinn and memories of the way his voice sounded pushed their way to the forefront mind, and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

Without another word, you pushed the man away from you and scrambled towards the exit of the bar. Your vision turned bleary and clouded, from the tears or the alcohol, you weren’t sure. Ignoring the worried calls from strangers you shoved past, you rushed out into the crisp Vancouver air.

You stumbled over into the mostly empty alleyway, clutching at your chest as your back came in contact with the brick wall. You were aware of the many lingering eyes on you, but the feeling that was consuming you made their attention appear miniscule and irrelevant. All you could think about was Quinn and how he never even fought to be with you. How he gave you up so easily.

Leila’s boyfriend had seen you run out of the bar, and immediately darted towards the bathroom so he could grab her. With the help of a few random women, he was able to get her attention much faster, and she was rushing out of the bar and leaving him to close their tab. Leila heard you before she saw you, and that alone made her chest burn for you.

“Honey,” She delicately approached you, her voice calm and collected, “What happened?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue, but nothing was coming out but strangled breaths and mangled cries. Despite having seen you in this position more times than she could count, it broke Leila’s heart all the same. She maneuvered your body so that she could pull you into her lap, ignoring the fact that she was sitting on the ground in a dirty alley. She began rubbing soothing circles on your back and instructed you to try and follow her breathing pattern.

Once you were able to catch your breath, you let out an almost incoherent, “Why didn’t he come back?”

Leila was able to calm you down enough to get you back to your apartment nearly an hour later. She kept insisting that you just come home with her, but you already felt guilty enough for intruding so much on her personal life. You knew she didn’t mind, but you did, so you managed to convince her that you would be okay by yourself, and that you would call her if you needed her. Though, she wasn’t the person you ended up calling.

“You have reached the voicemail box of Quinn Hughes. Please leave a message after the tone.”

“I hate you, Quinn,” You started, your voice already raspy from the moments prior, “I hate you so much for making me believe that you ever loved me back the way that I loved you. I thought we were forever, you know. That’s what you told me. That we would get married and have our own family, but we saw how that turned out. It was never going to be me, was it?

“I just wished you would have had the balls to tell me that you fell out of love with me, if you ever did in the first place, or found someone else or whatever the fuck happened. It would have made it a hell of a lot easier knowing that I, or you, did something to make you not stop loving me. It’s just- The worst fucking part about all of this is, is that I’m still so in love with you that it physically hurts me to be without you, but that doesn’t matter does it?

“Fuck. I don’t even know why I’m doing this. I guess I'm just trying to give myself closure so that I can really move on from you. I don’t know that I’ll ever stop loving you, but I’m going to try.”

Hanging up the phone, you threw it onto your couch and let out a gut wrenching sob that ripped through the stillness of your apartment. You fell to your knees and let everything you had been bottling up for the last three months bleed out of you. The world spun around you, your lungs burning as you gasped for air. Your fingers grasped at anything they could possibly wrap themselves around in an attempt to keep yourself steady.

You felt as if you were back to square one, and you hated that all it took was some man having a name that too closely resembled his. It was stupid, you thought, blatantly pathetic how easily you were thrown back into the fire you had done your best to crawl out of. You had almost healed all of the cuts Quinn’s treatment of you had left in your heart, but now they were gaping open once again.

Minutes passed by, or maybe hours you weren’t sure, and you had fallen into a limp ball on the floor of your living room. You had no energy to move from the spot as silent tears escaped their previous confinement. You stared lifelessly at the ceiling above you, mind too tired to fight off the dangerous thoughts floating about inside your head. It was only when sleep finally graced you that you were able to escape the pain of what-ifs.

The following morning, you were rudely awoken by someone aggressively and relentlessly knocking on your door. The sound ricocheted across the nearly empty walls of your apartment, and worsened the already excruciating pounding in your head. Pushing your tired body off the floor, you let out a quiet groan as nausea rippled from your core.

You passed by a mirror that Leila insisted you hang, and you outwardly cringed at your appearance. Your face swollen from last night's breakdown, and your makeup was smudged all across your face. Needless to say, your unwarranted guest was not going to get a presentable version of you.

Not bothering to check the peephole, you pulled the door open and time froze all around you. Quinn stood there with his hands in his pockets, head covered by the hood of his blue Canucks hoodie. His face was decorated with overgrown facial hair and deep set bags had found places underneath his eyes. Truly, he looked awful, but the sight of him in front of you made the already growing ball of nausea burst.

Quinn watched as your eyes simultaneously widened and hardened with an undetectable emotion, but he’s sure he could guess what it was. When he had woken up that morning, the last thing he’d expected to see was a missed call from you, let alone a voicemail. He’d listened to it a dozen times before calling Petey, asking him what he should do.

After a lecture that closely resembled the one he had already gotten from his teammate months prior that was followed by words of encouragement, he set off to your apartment. He only knew your address because Brock had accidentally let it slip when they passed by it one night. Truthfully, Quinn was expecting you to not answer the door or to slam it shut in his face when you saw him. That he was prepared for, but what he did not prepare himself for was you darting to the bathroom.

He stood in the hallway, conflicting emotions battling with each other as the sound of you retching reached his ears. He wanted to follow after you and comfort you like he’d done many times before, but he also didn’t want to make you even more uncomfortable than you undoubtedly were already. He opted to step inside and wait for you in the living room, preparing himself for whatever you were going to throw at him.

You were heaving into the toilet, panic running through every nerve in your body as you tried to focus on breathing rather than throwing up. The last person you had expected to show up at your door was here now, and you left him standing in the hallway. A million thoughts ran through your mind as you flushed the toilet, pushing yourself up off the floor for the second time in the last fifteen minutes.

Why was Quinn here? How was he here? You never gave him your address. Though a brief reminder that Brock knew where you lived was enough to answer that question for you, but nothing you could come up with answered why. You remember leaving him a voicemail in your drunken meltdown, but you couldn’t wrap your head around just what had gotten him to seek you out.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for far too long, and you wondered if Quinn was still here. You’d heard the door shut, but you couldn’t figure out if the footsteps that followed were inside your apartment or in the hallway. After quickly brushing your teeth and convincing yourself that he had left, you stepped back into the living room and were proven wrong. He had settled into the spot on the couch that he chose every time if he could; closest to the kitchen. His leg was anxiously bouncing up and down, and he was biting at his fingernails. 

“What are you doing here,” You called out, nails digging into the palm of your hand as a way to keep yourself grounded.

The sound of your voice had Quinn’s head turning on a swivel before he was standing and taking a few steps towards you, but he stopped when you stepped backwards. He swallowed thickly, knowing that he was already treading through very dangerous waters by showing up at your apartment unannounced, and he didn’t want to do anything to further worsen that.

He instantly registered the tortured look in your eyes because it was the same one he’s been sporting since you left. Quinn knows he’s to blame for the downfall of your relationship. He should have fought harder. He should have fought, period, but he had his own reason for letting you go.

“You called me last night,” He started.

“I was drunk,” You firmly stated, heart beating loudly in your chest, “It didn’t mean anything.” You were lying, and he knew that, too. Quinn could always tell when you were lying.

“It meant something to me,” He rushed out, “Hearing your voice- Hearing you say that you thought I never loved you ripped me to pieces. I know I don’t deserve it, but can you please listen to my explanation? I know it won’t repair the damage I’ve done, but please. I was too scared before, but I’m not now.”

He rasped your name out like it was something sacred, like it held the entire world within its syllables. His eyes were glassy and filled with unshed tears as they bore into your own. He could tell that your heart and brain were at war with each other by the way you kept taking sharp breaths, and your eyes kept flitting away from him. 

“I don’t know, Quinn. I’m trying to move on, and hearing you out will only undo all of the work I’ve put into doing that,” You tried, turning away from him but still staying in the living room.

“I know, baby,” The nickname tumbled out before he could stop it, sending a jab to your chest, “I know, but please. I will leave you alone after, if that’s what you really want. I’ll do whatever you want.”

You weighed your options in your head before letting out a hesitant, “Okay. I’ll listen, but if I want you to leave after, you’ll go?”

Your heart had won this battle, but you’re relying on your brain to save it later if need be. The sound of his approaching footsteps made the breath catch in your throat, but the feeling of his hand sliding into your own sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body. Your head snapped to his own, your eyes full of anxiety and familiarity.

He gently pulled you over to the couch, dropping your hand so that you could sit as far away from as you wanted. The air was crawling with nerves from both parties, but the lack of anger radiating off of you brought him some sort of comfort as he gathered his thoughts. Though, in your defense, you could never be angry at Quinn, no matter how badly he hurt you.

“I know that no apology can fix the hurt I’ve caused you, but I am sorry. I am so sorry for pulling away from you instead of talking to you. I never fell out of love with you, ever. Not then, and not now. Do you want to know the best thing that’s ever happened to me? It isn't hockey. It isn’t money. It’s you, and that terrified me. I was so scared that I was going to screw everything up.”

You opened your mouth to interrupt him, but he cast you a stern glare and shook his head before continuing, “I never let that bother me until I overheard you talking to Leila about marriage and children, and I got scared. I started questioning if I was good enough for you. If I was even good for you. I’m gone so much with the team, and I’ve already missed so many of your accomplishments because I was on the road.

“I started thinking about us having kids. How many appointments would I miss? What if I missed the birth? What if I missed the baby’s first steps? I couldn’t imagine putting you through all of that by yourself, so I started pulling away. Was it a good idea? Absolutely not, but it made sense to me. I thought I was going to save you from heartbreak in the future, but all I did was cause it now instead.

“I didn’t call after you left because I thought I did the right thing. I thought I was doing what was best for you, but then I heard your voice this morning and I knew I had to fix it, if you’d let me. I couldn’t let you think that I never loved you, because I do. I love you so much, and I will do anything to prove that to you, should you give me the chance.”

You sat there in silence, digesting the words that had just been said to you as you let out quiet sobs. For nearly the last year, you had believed that Quinn didn’t love you, and now he was saying the exact opposite. He was begging for another chance, and that was what you had wanted, right? It still was, but the damage that was done wasn’t going to be easily fixable. You would have to start back at the beginning, and you’re not sure if Quinn was willing to do that.

“Baby,” He whispered, your silence lighting his skin on fire with nerves, “I don’t know what’s going through your head, but I want you to know that I meant what I said. I will do whatever it takes to fix this mess I created. Anything.”

The gears were turning in your head, trying to conjure any sort of coherent thought to tell him that you wanted this, but you were scared. You’d put so much faith and trust into Quinn, and he tore all of that down out of fear. What if he did that again?

“I want to,” You whispered, “I do, but what if you do it again? I can’t go through it all over, Quinn. I felt like I was going to die without you, and I can’t go through losing you all over again if you get scared.”

You felt his weight lift off the sofa, and before you realized what was going on, he was wedging himself in between your legs in front of you. He cupped both of your cheeks in his hands so you were looking at him, and you swear you blacked out for a second. Just because Quinn had hurt you, doesn’t mean the effect he had on you went away.

“You won’t lose me ever again, okay? My heart belongs to you. My heart beats for you. I promise to love you for the rest of my life, even if you don’t love me for the rest of yours.”

His hands were still on your cheeks as you gulped down the lump in your throat, his pleading eyes darting all across your face. Lucky for you, your heart and your brain had linked together as you let out an almost silent, “Kiss me, please.”

And he did. Quinn’s lips were on yours in an instant, hands dropping down so he could pull you into his chest. The kiss was full of desperation and months of lost time as the two of you clung to each other. He was holding your hips so tightly that you’re fairly certain they were going to bruise, but you didn’t mind. You were pulling him into you just as desperately, afraid that he was somehow going to disappear from right in front of you.

He briefly pulled away so that he could sit on the couch, pulling you into his lap not long after. He quickly reattached his lips to yours, and he kissed you with so much fervor that it had your head spinning. You could feel some of your sadness melting away, being replaced by passion and desire for the man underneath you. Almost as if a switch had flipped within you. You shifted your hips on his lap, and a throaty moan escaped his swollen lips as he slightly threw his head back.

“Be careful with that,” He let out a breathy laugh, “You know what that does to me.”

There was a teasing glint in your eye as you spoke, “I know.”

“Fuck me,” He groaned, subtly moving your hips against him.

“If you insist,” You drew out, leaning down to ghost your lips over his neck.

He threw his head back against the couch and screwed his eyes shut as your warm breath fanned across his neck. Your eyes flicked up to his face, and you couldn’t help but let a mischievous smirk form before dragging your tongue across the expanse of his neck. He let out a string of profanities as you latched your mouth onto the spot you knew would send him spiraling, but you quickly pulled away and hopped off of him.

“I need to take a shower,” You announced, a teasing tone to your voice, “I’m still gross from the bar.”

Quinn’s eyes snapped open, watching as you began to walk away. Only when he heard you ask if you were going to join did he jump off the couch and scramble after you. He shed his clothes as he followed you to the bathroom, leaving a trail of fabric in his wake. By the time he had reached your bathroom, you’d already turned the shower on and rid yourself of your own clothes.

“I do not deserve you,” He mumbled as his eyes raked over your naked body. 

He’d already memorized every dip and curve of you, but he always treated it as if he was seeing all of you for the first time. Your body captivated him in all of the best ways, and it left Quinn breathless every time you graced him with it. He considered it a privilege to be able to bear witness to the Goddess of a woman in front of him, and he worshiped it like it was.

Despite all that has happened between the two of you, you still felt comfortable enough to share this part of you with Quinn. Unlike the guys who had seen you naked before, none of them treated it the way he did. He never made you feel insecure, and he always made every other part of you feel just as loved as your body. He admired your character, and even your flaws, all the same.

“You gonna stand there or are you going to join me,” You teased as you stepped into the shower. 

The water enveloped you like a welcomed hug, and you let out a sigh of relief as the stickiness from last night was washed away. You were facing towards the shower, eyes closed and head tilted back. You heard the curtain rings slide against the rod before you felt Quinn’s chest pressed against your back. You wiggled against his hardened length, and he took your teasing as a green light.

His fingers trailed up along your hip, across your waist before dancing over your breast. He made a point to slightly lift his touch so he just barely grazed your nipple, and you let out a whine when he did. His hand briefly paused when he reached your collarbone as if he was going to change his mind, but he carefully wrapped his fingers around your neck and leaned down to brush his lips against your ear.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” He whispered before dipping his head down and attaching his lips to your neck.

While one hand tilted your neck to give him better access, his free hand trailed down your stomach and towards your center. The knot in your stomach grew the closer he got, but he was taking his time with you. Relishing in the moment he never thought he would have again.

“Quinn,” You whimpered, “Please.”

“Please what, baby? I need you to use your words for me,” He briefly broke his contact with your neck.

“I need you to touch me, please,” You were begging him, needing him to give you the release that no other man has before.

“Good girl.”

He slid one finger into you, an almost pornagraphic moan echoing off the tiles of your bathroom. You threw your head back against his shoulder, gripping at the slick shower wall for any sort of support before your knees buckled from under you. He carefully moved his digit inside of you, stretching your walls so he could add another.

“Jesus, baby. You’re so tight,” He groaned into your ear.

“‘S because no one’s touched me- Oh fuck,” You cried out as he inserted another finger, “No one’s touched me since the last time you did.”

Quinn knew he shouldn’t be as turned on by that as he was, but he couldn’t help it. Knowing that you didn’t let another man have you the way that he did only made him harder, and he didn’t think that was possible.

You were writhing against him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, your moans filling his ears like they were his favorite song. He moved his thumb to press against your clit, and it was then that Quinn had to use his own strength to keep you standing. He worked his fingers against you, and he’s gotten you to the finish line enough times to know that you were already just about there, so he didn’t stop.

“Oh my god,” You cried out as his thumb rubbed circles and his fingers curled inside of you, “I’m almost the-Fuck.”

“I know, pretty girl. I know,” He murmured, keeping his pace steady.

Your legs are shaking and your vision becomes spotty as the knot inside you comes undone. He captures your lips with his own as you come all over his fingers, kissing you with the same amount of passion he’d had before everything happened. He was still supporting you with the hand that was previously on your neck, but you slowly regained the strength to support yourself as you came down from your high.

“You okay,” He asked, turning you around so that the water was no longer hitting your front.

“More than okay,” You gave him a sloppy smile, still slightly dazed from your orgasm.

“Good, because that was only the beginning,” He smirked, switching places with you so he could back you into the corner of your shower.

You watched as he turned and shifted the shower head so that it was spraying against the two of you as much. You pulled your brows together in confusion as you questioned him, “What about you?”

“What about me,” He feigned confusion as he slowly fell to his knees.

“You know what,” You quietly spoke, eyes wide in anticipation as his hands gripped your thighs.

“I’m getting all I need, baby. Don’t worry,” He glanced up at you, eyes sparkling with pleasure.

His fingers trailed against your thighs that were wet with a mix of water and your own juices. Goosebumps rose in wake of his touch, sending a shiver throughout your entire body. You kept glancing down at him with your lip pulled between your teeth, your heart still rapidly beating from your orgasm only minutes ago.

Quinn spread your legs with his hands before placing feathered kisses on the inside of your thighs, eliciting a few breathless moans from you. He stopped when he got against your aching core, his breath hitting it as he spared you one more glance.

With a swift movement, he was lifting your leg over his shoulder and then he was diving into you like it was his last meal. His facial hair was tickling your inner thighs, but all it did was add to the sensation flowing through your body. His hands were gripping at your legs to not only keep you steady, but to give him something to hold on to.

He was devouring you in a way that made it seem like he was enjoying it more than you were, but you highly doubted that to be true. His tongue worked against as he led you to yet another orgasm, mouth sucking and swirling in all of the right places. You tugged on his hair as you felt the familiar fire burning in your stomach, your head hitting against the tile wall.

Your second orgasm ripped through your body, rendering you temporarily blind yet again. He carefully placed your leg back beneath you, placing open mouth kisses against your stomach as he stood leaving behind a mixture of his saliva and your cum against your skin. He attacked your lips with his own in a dizzying kiss, his hands cupping and squeezing at your breasts.

“I’ve missed you so much,” He mumbled against your lips as he placed his forehead on yours.

“I missed you too. So much, Quinn,” Your eyes became misty with tears, but you tried to push them back.

“I’m not trying to ruin the moment or anything, but thank you for giving me a second chance. I definitely don’t deserve one, but I will keep my promise and do whatever it takes to win you back.”

You pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to his lips before saying, “Well, you can start by properly fucking me.”

The softness in Quinn’s eyes darkened to something full of desire and lust, but he still managed to keep the look of pure admiration and love. His hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you into his chest and meeting your lips with a hungry kiss. You could feel him pressed against your thigh, and it made the already wet pool between your legs worsen.

“Need you to hold on to me baby. Wanna look at you,” He instructed as he pulled away, gesturing for you to wrap your arms around his neck, “Good girl.”

Quinn rubbed himself between your folds, teasing your entrance and watching your face twist in desire and want. Slowly, he pushed himself inside of you and let out a mangled moan as your walls clenched around him. He paused and let you readjust to his size, doing his best to remain still and not roughly jerk his hips back.

“Move,” You whimpered, bucking your hips forward for any sort of friction, “Please move.”

With your pleading, Quinn was pulling himself nearly all the way out and slamming back in at a pace he knew you both liked. His thrusts were hard and deep, filling you in just the right way to leave you gasping for more. He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it on his hips to allow himself a better angle, and you swear you blacked out for a second. You were grateful for the strength he has from hockey or you’re certain you’d both be on the floor by now.

Your loud moans mixed with his own, surely filling the entirety of your apartment with the sound. A part of you hoped your neighbors couldn't hear, but a bigger part of you didn’t care. You finally had him back, and the both of you were making up for lost time. His hips snapped against your own as he brought his free hand back up to your neck, squeezing at the sides with the pressure he knew wouldn't hurt you.

You were clenching around him, sending him into a fit of blinding, white hot ecstasy. No matter times Quinn had imagined you when he fucked his own hand, it was absolutely nothing compared the real thing. Watching as your eyes screwed shut and his name fell from your lips in desperate whines was a sight he would never get tired of.

“Oh my god, Quinn,” You shakily cried out, your eyes rolling backwards and the top of your head hitting against the shower wall as he thrusted into you, “Jesus, fuck.”

“Such a pretty girl,” He praised as his hand dove between your bodies, his fingers coming to rub at the bundle of nerves, “You look so pretty wrapped around me, you know that? Fuck, you feel so good.”

You were gripping at his back as he split you open, your vision coming in and out as he rubbed at your overstimulated clit and repeatedly slammed into you. Your name was tumbling from his lips in grunts, only tightening the coil in your stomach as his forehead dropped to your shoulder. You could feel the heat swirling inside you as he rammed himself into you, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Quinn, I’m going to- I’m gonna,” You stuttered as he worked himself deeper, harder.

“I know, baby. Let go,” He whispered your name like it was holy and just, “Come all over my cock, pretty girl.”

His words sent you flying over the edge, your third orgasm of the night sending you into a fit of unmistakable pleasure. Waves of contractions washed over your body as Quinn fucked you through your orgasm, his own crashing over him not too far after. His thrusts became sloppy and slow as he came inside of you, his head burying itself into the crook of your neck as he let out stifled moans against the skin.

You’re not sure how long you clung to each other with him still inside you, sounds of your heavy breathing replacing the previous moans that were probably still echoing somewhere in your apartment. However, what felt like hours but was probably not even five minutes later, Quinn pulled himself out of you, guiding your still shaking leg back down and keeping your body upright.

“Time to get cleaned up, yeah,” He teased, his thumb and forefinger coming up to grab your chin.

“Good thing we’re already in the shower,” You bantered back, eyelids slowly drooping courteous of the man in front of you. 

You lazily pulled Quinn back into your hold, meeting his lips for yet another searing kiss. Yet this time, there was no desperation. There was no hunger. There was only love, and hope. Hope that, despite the damage that has been caused, the two of you will return to the best version of yourselves and let yourselves be happy without worry or fear.

again, please let me know if you see any mistakes. and let me know what you think! xoxox

[heartysworld]

Never Again || Luke Castellan x Reader

W.C: 2.3k

Warnings: none that I could think of

A/N: Requests are open everyone! I'll start working on them as soon as I finish the 2 fics from my poll (this is one of them) Also, I've scheduled this to be posted at 4AM local time where I live, so surprise me when i wake up (I've had the shittiest day ever).

My Newest Fic <3

You grew up as a happy child, content with life and the many siblings you had. It was never boring in the Apollo Cabin, that’s for sure. As you grew she found yourself surrounded by friends, one curly-haired boy in particular standing out. The moment Luke arrived at camp he couldn’t seem to be able to take his eyes off the pretty girl who was the first thing he saw in the infirmary once he opened his eyes after that tragic night.

He spent month chasing after her, wanting to become her friend first before she could bring herself to even consider him something more than that. Everyone at camp witnessed the innocent friendship the two shared blossom into something bigger, stronger and passionate. Luke and Y/N were the sweethearts of Camp Half-Blood by the time the Apollo girl turned seventeen.

Nobody expected what was about to happen the night everything changed between the two. Luke and Y/N had just gotten off counselor duties and had headed out towards the lake where they could have some much-needed peace and quiet. Cuddled together the two laid over a blanket near the water, admiring the start-lit sky than hung above them.

 That was all Luke ever wanted, peace and happiness with the girl he loved so dearly. The two had even spoken about their plans after it was time to leave the camp. They planned on moving in together, maybe going to college if they managed to stabilize their hectic lives.

The last thing from that night in Y/N’s mind was Luke calling her name, despair and fear laced with his loud voice. Then, everything went black.

‘’Look who’s finally awake. You gave us quite the scare, Y/N, we were starting to worry.’’ One of your brother said as he approached your bed, helping you settle against the wall and handing you a glass of water.

‘’What…what happened?’’ you asked, voice hoarse and quiet.

‘’Michael, what happened?’’ you asked more insistently this time.

‘’I might get into trouble for even opening my mouth but…you had a vision, Y/N. Chiron thinks you are a seer, him and Mr. D have been going over possible triggers that might have caused the outburst that you had. It was scary, Y/N, I’m not gonna lie to you. Luke was scared shitless, the two of you were together when it happened. He might be one of our strongest camp mates but three nights ago he looked so weak and helpless. It was as if I he was a whole different person.’’ Your brother said. His words felt like a bucket of cold water that was poured over you.

The only thought in your mind now was Luke. Where was he? Was he fine? Had he come to check up on you while you were unconscious? Was it was over?

‘’Where’s Luke? Have you seen him?’’ you asked, a concerned expression present on your tires face.

‘’He came a couple of times but he left quickly. I don’t think he was able to bring himself to stay longer, you know…with his mom and everything.’’ Michael said, the last part of his sentence barely audible.

‘’I have to go find him, come on help me get up.’’ You said, using all of your strength to get up from the bed, unsuccessfully. Your libs felt as heavy as concrete.

‘’Hey, hey calm down! Before you do something stupid and fall unconscious, again I have to go and tell Chiron you’re awake. His orders!’’ your brother helped you sit back down on the bed before exiting the infirmary to go look for the old man.

After what felt like an eternity, Chiron entered the infirmary, a solemn expression on his face. He approached your bed, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and responsibility.

"Y/N, I'm glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?" Chiron inquired, his voice gentle yet firm.

"I need to find Luke," you replied urgently, ignoring the question about your well-being. "I need to talk to him."

Chiron sighed, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered your request. "Y/N, you need to rest. We're still trying to contact Apollo to understand the nature of your abilities. Running around in your condition is not advisable."

"I don't care," you insisted, frustration and worry etched on your face. "I need to find him. I need to know if... if it's over between us."

Chiron regarded you for a moment before nodding understandingly. "Very well. I will allow you to go to your cabin and rest. But promise me, you'll take it easy. We'll continue our efforts to contact Apollo, and we'll keep you informed."

You nodded, grateful for the permission to leave the infirmary. As you made your way to Cabin 7, thoughts of Luke and the uncertain future raced through your mind. When you entered, the familiar surroundings offered little comfort. It was supposed to be a place of solace, but now it felt like a battleground of emotions.

Resting on your bed, you couldn't shake off the anxiety that gnawed at you. Despite your exhaustion, you couldn't find peace. The weight of the unknown, coupled with the fear of losing Luke, lingered in the air.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, you decided to search for Luke. You needed answers, closure, anything to ease the turmoil within you. You needed to know whether the meddling of the Gods with the human world was about to take away the one person you love the most. With determination, you headed towards the training grounds where you often found him honing his skills.

The training area was dimly lit, shadows dancing with each flicker of torchlight. Luke was there, his back turned to you as he practiced his swordsmanship. His shirt was drenched with sweat, not leaving much to one’s imagination. If the situation wasn’t as serious, you’d be doing something completely different now. As you approached, his muscled visibly tensed. Luke had always been able to sense whenever you were around.

"L-Luke," you stammered, uncertainty lacing your voice.

He turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "Y/N," he acknowledged, but there was a coldness in his eyes and voice, one that hadn't been there before.

"I need to talk to you," you whispered, your heart pounding. You’ve always felt calm in Luke’s presence before. The two of you even joked at some point that he was your personal calming agent, but now, everything felt completely different. You felt so out of place that it was unbelievable.

He hesitated, then sighed, sheathing his sword. "Can it wait? I'm not in the mood for a conversation right now." Avoiding the problem was one of Luke’s fatal flaws, at least when It came to your relationship.

"No, it can't," you insisted, your emotions bubbling to the surface. "Is it over, Luke? Do you no longer want to be with me?" You cut straight to the point. ‘’I’ve been awake for hours and not even once have you tried to approach me to see how I am, if I’m even alive and breathing!’’

His eyes flickered with a mix of pain and frustration. "Y/N, it's not that simple. I... I can't."

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt the ground beneath you crumble. "Can't what? Luke, please, I need to understand."

A heavy silence hung between you before he spoke, his voice strained. "I haven't been able to sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see her—my mother, then I see you. The accident, the fear in hers and your eyes from that night. It haunts me, Y/N."

You didn’t need to hear him say it that he needed to feel your touch at that moment. Carefully, step by step you got closer to him until your arms enveloped his much larger and warmer form. The second your skin came in touch with Luke’s his arm went around you like a protective barrier. He nuzzled his head in the crook of you neck, breathing in the sweet scent that he had so dearly missed the past three days. You felt the warm tears stream down the skin of you neck and right at that moment you could swear that you felt your heart shatter for the vulnerable boy who stood in your arms.

The silence that followed was suffocating, the heavy weight of unspoken emotions pressing down on both of you. Luke's grip on you tightened, as if he was afraid that if he let go, you would disappear like a phantom of his imagination.

"You don't understand, Y/N," he whispered, his voice strained. "I keep seeing her, her face contorted in fear. I hear her screams. It's like a never-ending nightmare, and I'm trapped."

You pulled back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Luke, I'm not her. I'm not your mother. The circumstances are different. What happened to her was terrible, but we have to keep moving forward. We can face this together. I won't let you go through it alone."

He closed his eyes, his breath shaky. "I'm scared, Y/N. Scared of losing you, scared of repeating the past."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you fought to keep your voice steady. "I'm scared too, Luke. But we can't let fear control us. We can't let it destroy what we have. You are the love of my life, Luke, I won’t allow the Gods’ meddling with our world to ruin us."

He opened his eyes, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability and pain that he had been hiding. "I love you, Y/N. I can't bear the thought of something happening to you because of me."

Gently, you wiped away his tears with your thumbs. "I love you too, Luke. But we can't let fear dictate our choices. We have to find a way to move forward, together."

His lips quivered as he struggled to find the right words. "I can't promise it'll be easy. I can't promise I won't be haunted by the past.But I promise to try my hardest to protect you from any danger that threatens to take you from me. I’d rather watch the world go up in flames than have you suffer."

You nodded, your heart breaking for the man you loved. "I don't need promises, Luke. I just need you. We'll face whatever comes our way, you and me."

As you spoke, the moonlight filtered through the leaves above, casting a gentle glow on both of you. The training grounds, once filled with the clash of swords and the echoes of laughter, now bore witness to a somber moment between two souls entwined by fate.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Luke whispered, his voice barely audible. "I never wanted to hurt you." You shook your head, tears rolling down your cheeks. "We've both been hurt, Luke. However, we can heal together. Just don't shut me out."

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he rested his forehead against yours. "I don't deserve you, Y/N."

"Deserving has nothing to do with it," you replied, your voice soft but determined. "Love isn't about deserving; it's about choosing to be with someone, flaws and all."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms a comforting refuge. "I don't want to lose you," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion.

"I don't want to lose you either," you whispered, your words muffled against his chest.

The nights turned into days, and with each sunrise, a semblance of healing took place. Luke and you faced the challenges of you newfound abilities together, navigating the labyrinth of their emotions. In the quiet moments, you found solace in each other's presence, and in the stormy ones, you stood united against the uncertainties that lingered.

You spent the rest of the night tightly wrapped in the embrace of the man you loved. Luke clung to you for dear life as he slept. You could tell that he needed this even more than you did.

One evening, as the campfire crackled under the starlit sky, Luke took your hand in his, sending a silent invitation to stroll around the lake. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting a soft glow on their faces. The air was thick with the unspoken, the weight of your shared experiences hanging between you.

You stopped suddenly, turning to face Luke, your eyes searching his for reassurance. "We can do this, Luke. We can face whatever comes our way."

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Together."

As if drawn by an invisible force, your lips met in a gentle and tentative kiss. It was a kiss filled with the promise of a new beginning, a silent affirmation that love could triumph over even the darkest of shadows. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving only the soft sounds of nature, labored breaths and the beating of you hearts.

When you pulled away, you admired the way the moonlight reflected in Luke’s  eyes. Everything was quiet. No words were needed. In that kiss, you two found a renewal of hope, a rekindling of the flame that had flickered in the face of adversity.

"I love you," Luke whispered, his forehead resting against you.

"I love you too," You replied, a warmth spreading through her chest.

My Newest Fic <3

Hand in hand, you continued you walk along the lake, leaving behind the ghosts of the past. As you and him disappeared into the night, the echoes of your footsteps mingled with the whispers of the wind, carrying the promise of a future built on resilience, understanding, and the enduring power of love.

[heeliopheelia]

"no one has ever cared about me like you do" (jungwon x reader)

genre: fluff word count: 0.7k requested by nonnie ♡

warnings: a little blood, mentions of getting into a fight, alcohol, jungwon being tipsy

a/n: i actually love the way this turned out!! i'm gonna post another drabble later on tonight <3

One of the things you completely didn't expect to find at your door at 2 am was a tipsy Jungwon. Frowning, you take in all of the cuts marring his face, bruised knuckles coming up to your view as he raises his hand up to wave at you awkwardly.

"Hi," he greets you, other arm outstretched on the door frame to stop himself from stumbling over onto you. "Can I come in?"

You nod your head silently, opening the door wider so that he can step in. Now, patching up Jungwon is something you've already grown used to doing throughout the past couple months. What you're not used to witnessing is the fight-seeking boy being drunk. Maybe it's all thanks to his high alcohol tolerance but not even once in your life have you ever seen him stumbling and tripping over his own feet as he giggles drunkenly underneath his nose.

After making him take off his shoes, you lead him to your bedroom, carefully guiding him through every step and threshold until he's safely resting on your bed. The soft floral scent of your fabric softener instantly brings peace to his hollering heart and he leans backwards until his head drops down on your pillows.

You leave him in your room, trusting him enough to know he's not going to hurt himself within your absence, and when you come back with your heavily-used first aid kit, he's watching you intently with his misty eyes.

"Tilt your face up," you tell him, grabbing him by his chin to help him with the task yourself.

Reaching for the soaked cotton ball, you start cleaning up the cuts on his face, dabbing on the already dried blood and wiping it away. Jungwon endures it all without the smallest whine, always feeling thankful for you to even have the will and strength to deal with him yet another time. Getting used to the stinging, he finds himself drifting off with the gentle touch of your fingers.

"Hey, stay with me for a little longer, okay?" You ask, leaning closer to him. Only now he can see the concern more prominent than usually painted on your features and he feels a sharp sting of guilt for making you feel such way. "Why are so you drunk tonight? And who did you get into a fight with again?"

He hums low in his throat, blinking up at you with his heavy eyelids. "I dunno. Kinda felt like doing shots today. Jake has no control when it comes to vodka, you know that," he explains simply, shrugging his arms with a small smile. "And it was just some guy at the party. Pissed me off loads."

You nod your head with a sigh. "Wonder when will be the first time you come to my doorstep in one piece."

Jungwon instantly notices the resentful hint in your voice, so he leans up on his elbows. "I'm sorry. I should stop bothering you with my bullshit at nights, I know you're probably tired of it at this point. I'll try not to the next time, okay?"

"That's not what I meant." You shake your head, putting the kit aside as you finally take a spot right next to him on your bed. "I don't mind you coming here. I'm glad that you're comfortable enough to let me help you. I'm just worried about you, that's all. I don't want you to seriously get hurt somewhere along the way, Won."

His heart melts at your words, so he quickly pulls you to his chest, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck so that you don't see the chokehold that you have on him written all over his features. He stretches his arm out, flicking the switch of the lamp on your bedside off and engulfing the both of you in a comfortable darkness.

He tugs the covers on top your bodies. The silence nearly lulls you to sleep, his calloused hands softly running over your skin before his muffled voice interrupts it.

"No one has ever cared about me like you do. I know I don't show it a lot but I really do appreciate you. Thank you."

"I love you," you mumble into his t-shirt tiredly, arms tightening around his middle.

Even though it's the first time you've ever said these words to him, they sound so incredibly easy on your tongue that instead of feeling nervous, a soothing warmth flows down his system. Pressing a kiss to the side of your head, he feels you snuggling even closer to him and he can't keep the exhausted smile from creeping upon his lips.

And he knows that no matter how drunk he would be, these words he would always remember. And would always mean with his entire heart.

"I love you too."

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @venividibitchin @ramenoil

[sillylittlestoryblog]

(Not) Hard to Love

Part 2 (2/2)

Trafalgar Law x Reader

Warning:⚠️ smutty situation, angsty thoughts

Authors Note: sorry that it took so long to post this. I was having a few bad days, just struggling with my confidence. Now I m doing a bit better. So here you go. Hope you have fun 🥰

this is by far the most suggestive thing I have ever written. lol. I hope it doesn’t suck too bad. If you like it, leave a comment. It does wonders to my mental health ❤️ (btw this raspberry jam is just in the story because I have been planning on making it for the past months and this is my reminder to get up from my lazy ass and make it! )

You were relieved, after days of almost doing nothing, because the sun was too hot and your thoughts too distracting, you were finally able to work again. It was one of those days were everyone was doing their best to restore and repair their beloved home.

The Thousand Sunny was a big ship. And after days of not doing much, it often needed some time to get everything organized and clean again.

Knowing your captain wasn’t the biggest fan of an organized living space, most of the work was split between the rest of the crew. While Nami was always on board keeping an eye on the ocean, Sanji was the one who was keeping the kitchen organized, while preparing the dishes for the day.

Franky and Usopp were repairing something in the library, while Brook and Robin were sorting the newest books, they got on the last island.

Luffy and Zoro were supposed to take care of everything on deck, which already wasn’t much. But after cleaning the girls bedroom, you walked towards the kitchen and saw both of them sleeping in the sunlight. Random, uncomfortable looking items being their pillows.

You just rolled your eyes and smirked. These two weren’t really cleaning themselves regularly, so why would they clean something else. It didn’t really make sense why you guys kept asking them to organize, even though you kinda knew they weren’t gonna be much of a help.

Opening the kitchen doors a warm sweet smell came towards you.

Sanji was standing at the stove, filling sugar into a red liquid.

"Uhhh, this smells amazing. May I have a taste?" you point to the boiling jam in front of you with an outstretched finger.

"Of course, my dear."

The cook gave you a spoonful of the sweet liquid and without blowing for long you tasted it.

"It tastes wonderful, Sanji! I'm already dreaming of how it will taste on the fresh crossaints you make from time to time."

The blond man grinned. He had to concentrate now. Not get distracted. Even if he particularly liked compliments from you.

"I'm glad you like it. I bought lots of raspberries so I could cook them for you.

I just realized that a little vanilla is still missing. Could you do me a favor? I have fresh vanilla in our storage room, I just forgot to bring them up from downstairs earlier. Could you get them quickly from below deck? I don't want the jam to burn.“

"Sure thing." With a smile, you walk back towards the door. You suck in the wonderful smell once more before quickly scurrying outside.

You had given Sanji the recipe for this particular jam a few months ago. Your mother used to make it when you were a child.

With quick steps, you skip down the stairs towards the storage room.

Your mind was full of warm memories of sunny mornings. Jam on baked goods. A table filled with fresh food. The last good days of your childhood.

Being on the thousand sunny was kind of like that time. With a smile on your face you walked towards the entry.

The groaning door gave you the creeps. Chopper had accidentally locked himself in down there once before. So, to be on the safe side, you put a box between you and the door. That way, it won't fall shut the next time the wind blows.

The light was already turned on in the storage room. You expected the little reindeer, who often spend time organizing and storing medicines down here to refill them in his little doctor's room when they were empty upstairs.

But it wasn't this doctor who was waiting for you in the far corner of the room.

Law was sitting on the floor looking through several boxes of pills.

Presumably he was going to take care of refilling the medicine room. Chopper probably send him, because he was still scared of last time.

You whisper a quiet "hey" in his direction so as not to startle him.

Law just looked up briefly and mumbled something in your direction.

What was his problem? You were starting to get angry again. Everyone was trying to build a home, be nice and him?! He was just not accepting you whatsoever.

How could someone be so arrogant and ignorant ?

A loud bang snapped you out of your thoughts.

The heavy door had slammed shut.

How could that be? You had just put something in between.

Annoyed, you turn to Law.

"Shit, now we're locked in here. I can't believe Franky still hasn't fixed the door!"

You push against the door with all your strength. It doesn't move. With a loud groan you press on the door again. But it doesn’t help. A large hand rests on your shoulder.

"Hey. let me try it, Y/N-ya. I'm sure I can get the door open."

You step aside and let the dark-haired man go at it. He also pushes against the door with all his might, but it doesn't move a bit.

Frustrated you started screaming for your friends to help you out of this awkward situation.

"Hey Namiiiii! Luffy! Frankyyyy!!! Help!"

"fuck! don't shout in my ear" Law

dramatically put his hands to his ears and stared at you angrily.

"do you want to get out of here or not?! Apparently mister-I can do anything- wasn't strong enough to open a simple door after all."

"Excuse me?"

The captain turned to you. He looked down at you, annoyed.

You took a step towards him. Pointing your finger on his chest.

"I finally want to know what your problem is?"

"I don't have a problem"

"Oh? Really? You're a fucking liar, Law."

"It's none of your business, what's wrong with me. Don't talk to me like that.

Your crazy captain has decided to form an alliance, and if that's a problem for you then talk to him and not to me."

Annoyed, Law turned to the side. He only took one step before you pulled him back by his shirt sleeve.

"Hey! Stay here. I don't have a problem with you or the Alliance at all."

Your back was against the cold iron door.

Law actually turned back around and took two steps towards you.

Only now do you realize how close he was to you.

"Why are you making it so difficult for me?"

His gaze was still avoiding yours. How much you would have liked to look him in the eye now. But then you probably wouldn't have been able to hold back. Your emotions were already getting the better of you.

You spoke to him much more calmly than before.

„What's so hard, Law? I can understand that you don't like me as much as the others. But why do you hate me? Is it that hard to just like me? Or even less. Just to accept me?"

Tears welled up in your eyes. Your own words stung your heart. All you wanted was to be looked at him. Be seen.

Law still stood rooted to the spot in front of you. One hand in front of his eyes, he shook his head.

„What makes you think I hate you?"

Your voice wasn't ready to answer that question. You just shrugged your shoulders, sobbing. You would like to sink into the ground. Now you're crying in front of the man who has no interest in you. You were a failure. A pathetic girl crying in front of her crush. Nothing more.

"hey. Shh. Don’t cry. Look at me when I'm talking to you."

Sternly but without anger in his voice, Law put his index finger under your chin. So that you can't help but look into his gray eyes.

" I don't hate you, Y/N-ya.“

A sigh escaping his lips. His eyes looked different then before. You almost thought he was leaning in. And the air around you got thicker and filled with more tension.

„I really don’t. Quite the opposite in fact. Ever since I saw you for the first time, I've been attracted to you. I just can’t act on it.

I have responsibilities and… I'm not a particularly good person. I've done bad things. I've taken lives when I should be saving lives as a doctor. I don’t want more people to get hurt because of me. And to be honest, I've never had feelings like this before. I have no idea how to deal with it.“

He looked down. Almost debating if he should say the next part.

„I think of you. All the time. I lay awake at night and all I see is your face. I long for your touch. And I want to learn to love, Y/N-ya. But I'm afraid of it. Fuck."

He took a deep breath. And exhaled.

"I want you. I need you.... And I don't know how..."

"Shhh."

Now it was you who put your index finger on Law's lips and slowly stroked his cheek with your hand.

"Just kiss me"

Horrified by your demanding words, Law looked down at you. He forgot how to breathe for a moment. His heart was beating so fast in his chest that he could hardly hear anything else. Your lips opened to say something. He didn't want you to change your mind. He took your face in both hands. Before he pressed his lips to yours.

"Just so you know. it isn't hard to fall for you, Y/N. But I m afraid, I have no clue what I m doing. My life is..."

"Law... just kiss me"

You moved forward again, pressing your lips to his. Law felt like the walls he had build up so maticulously, melting away by your kisses. He couldn’t hold himself back anymore, letting his desire take over.

Soft moans escaping your mouth while he pressed you against his body and the door behind you. You were caged in by his arms fully accepting whatever was gonna happen now. Your hands exploring the doctors body, while kissing each other hungrily. Law let out a low groan. This was better than in his daydreams. Your soft hands roaming his chest. Tracing his tattoos with lingering touches. One of Laws hands firmly placed against your hip. Shoving you against the metal door. Law was overwhelmed by his emotions. Not a single thought in his mind while he started grinding against you.

Using your moaning as chance to slide his tongue into your mouth.

His lustfull eyes being the most beautiful sight to you, while you buttoned down your summer dress.

Law was breathing heavily. His hair fully out of place by you tugging at his dark strands.

He can’t remember the last time he didn’t take the time to unbutton his shirt, but right now he was rushing to get it over his head. Throwing it down on the ground next to your dress.

Moving towards each other like magnets, lowly groaning between kisses, Law lifted up your thighs around his hips. Moving you against the door again.

His jeans rubbing against your panties. Making you cry out his name.

And for the second time that day you were interrupted by the same door you were making out against. The (stupid ) door opened with a loud hiss. Falling out of its angle. You and Law tumbeling and falling to the wooden floor.

This was a very annoying disturbance to your newly found passion. But it definitely wouldn’t have stopped you from showering Law with kisses, if it wasn’t for the circle of people and a very shocked reindeer standing around your almost naked bodies.

You and Law got up from the floor with red heads and stupid explanations. Feeling humiliated but kinda happy.

Law held his shirt protectively in front of you and hoped fervently that no one was looking at his jeans.

You looked at a bunch of different expressions.

Nami grinning. Robin, playing shocked, with one hand over her mouth. But she couldn't fool you. Her giggle was the first to be heard from the crowd.

„We really only planned for you guys to finally talk about it… that all… -

Nami made some hand gestures towards your half undressed bodies and the broken door on the ground.

„ - was not our intention.“

Usopp covered his own and then immediately afterwards Chopper's eyes. While Franky and Zoro toasted with sake in their hands. Apparently everyone was part of the stupid bet.

Luffy just looked back and forth between you and Law, confused. Obviously he hadn't quite understood yet, what was so exciting about this situation. He had seen you guys in swimwear before, not really something different in his eyes.

Sanji had blood all over his shirt and on his nose but tried to control himself. And thankfully pulled the others towards the exit.

"Don’t you guys look at Y/N-san like that. That’s not how you look at a lady.

Lunch is almost ready… let’s go Luffy.

Let the two of them go. We'll get the food ready."

Nami pulled Usopp towards her by the collar.

„So Usopp... I hope you remember our agreement... right?"

Laughing, the Strawhats left on after the other. Leaving behind two embarrassed pirates.

Franky mumbled something about "now I really have to fix the door"

While Chopper desperately tried to figure out what had just happened.

Robin gave you a wink while walking up the stairs.

Embarrassed, you looked at Law.

He took your hand and kissed it gently. Although it was hard for him, he tried to stand in front of you as confidently as possible.

" umm that was something… you know…

We still have some time before lunch. Would you like to… continue?! … What do you say Y/N-ya?"

You look at your intertwined hands and then back to Laws face. His face blushing, his eyes looking on the ground even though he would much rather look at your beautiful body before him. You stand on your tiptoes to give a quick peck to Law's lips.

"You may be right there is still some time. But I'll only follow you if you promise to use your devil powers this time. I wouldn't survive being caught like that again." Giggling, you put your arms around Law's neck.

"Okay then, let's pick up where we left off."

He gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead before lifting his hand. A smile on his face as he heard your heart beating loudly.

„Room“

[stupidthoughtsinwriting]

Glimpse of Us

Summary: Years after the faithful night, reality brings the two back together, with all the years of unresolved pain, feelings and comparisons

Warning: Angst is all the warning I can think off ehehhe, Hard core Angst

Note: ehehehehe the long awaited sequel to She use to be mine is finally here! After what? nearly 2 years. its finally here! I'm so sorry for the long wait and thank you to those who encouraged me to continue on with the next part. I won't dawdle on and let you lot enjoy the concoction i seem to have mustered on. ehehe again sorry for the months delay.

oh and i almost forgot, the italics are best imagined as her singing

P.S. I drafted this post 7 or 8 months after the first part and dear god, how time has passed. Looking back at the story, I'm not really too proud of this one and ended it because I really have no idea how to continue it. I have an idea for a next part (dangerous words coming from me) but I'm not gonna set a date for when I post it because we all know how the last part turned out. Anyways enjoy

😊❤️💛💚💙💜🖤😊 -T

‘Hey, you’re up in five’`

‘Yah sure, just touching up’ you say as you smacked your lips after applying a bit of lip gloss.

‘You don’t need it’ he replied.

‘Still. I can’t believe I agreed to this’ you scoffed, fiddling with your hair for the hundredth time.

‘You’ll do great’ he smiled ‘Now your hair is fine, you look amazing, and I have to go. Break a leg’ he bid before getting on stage to rouse the crowd. Admittedly, you are nervous. You wouldn’t call yourself a singer, but you do have a good enough voice and can hold a tune. You knew it was a mistake singing in front of Harvey and you were only doing this as a favor. God. You checked the mirror one last time before finding it was good enough.

‘Now for tonight’s performance, A very dear friend of mine has agreed to perform tonight, though with a little bit of persuasion.’ Harvey mumbled the last part, getting a laugh from the crowd and a chuckle from yourself ‘She has a voice made by the gods above, though I don’t remember Thor being much of a singer. She can lure you in better than a siren, but I think that’s the other mythology’ he said cheekily.

‘Now, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome a dear friend of mine, Y/N Y/L/N!’ he introduced, that being your cue to emerge from the curtain, you stepped on staged and made your way over to the middle where he and the mic was, the spotlight following your movement. You waved and smiled at the crowd, glad there wasn’t much. Grasping the mic, you chuckled as the small crowd continued to clap.

‘Hi everybody’ you began, getting a hello in response from the crowd ‘Wow, thank you for the warm welcome and thank you Harvey for that unrealistic introduction’ you chuckled with the crowd, turning to Harvey who waved you off.

‘Now, taking something off of Harvey’s speech, I am made by no god or am one. Nor am I a siren from the Greek mythology. It did take some persuading to get me to do this and hopefully I don’t regret it.’ You laughed sheepishly.

‘I don’t normally sing on stage or in public really unless it’s karaoke with friends, which by the way is how I got tricked into doing this, so pardon me if I seem a bit nervous’ you smile shyly. Glancing back at Harvey, with a smile on his face, he nodded, pushing you to continue. Pulling out the rest of the confidence you still had stored, you turned back beaming at the crowd.

‘Now to not keep you waiting any longer, Paul if you will’ you gestured to the man on the piano and he nods before gliding his fingers along the keys, playing the start of the song. Letting out a breath, you closed your eyes, feeling the rhythm of the piano before singing the lyrics. Grabbing hold of the mic, you opened your eyes and began.

He'd take the world off my shoulders

If it was ever hard to move

He'd turn the rain to a rainbow

When I was living in the blue

You let your eyes flutter to a close as you gripped the mic firmly. Swaying your body occasionally to melody.

Why then if he is so perfect

Do I still wish that it was you?

Perfect don't mean that it's working

So what can I do? Ooh

Opening your eyes, you scanned the crowd, completely surprised by how the much you can see of the crowd seemed entranced.

When you’re out of sight

You saw you’re your friends in a booth over on the corner, the people entering the establishment.

In my mind

Then the bar where you found him, staring at you. You locked eyes with those beautiful ocean blue orbs that you love loved so much. Stumbling over your words, you nearly forgot about the song but once the piano keys hit the right note, your lips continued in autopilot.

Cause sometimes I look… in his eyes

And that's where I find

A glimpse of us

Eyes leaving contact, you scanned his entirety. The grey streaks at his temples have grown longer since the last time you saw him. The old clean-shaven face he used to don had a goatee. Prominent lines and creases were evident in his features and really the years have aged him well. He wore a suit, complete with a vest, a red handkerchief in the breast pocket and everything. A glass of whiskey at his side and he was still as handsome as the day you left. 

You closed your eyes once more, willing this to just be another trick or hallucination by your imagination. Though it was a horrid idea as memories of the day came back crashing onto you, you let them stay shut as you continued.

And I try to fall for his touch

But I'm thinking of the way it was

There you stood, as beautiful as the day he met you, if not more. In all your beauty, and the signature grin you adorned, you were radiant. Though the spotlight might have something to do with it, you were still a ray of sunshine through the darkest of clouds.

The rest of the world faded out to him and his mind finally faltered. There you were. Standing a few feet away as you introduced yourself. Your hair’s cut short, or at least shorter than the last time he’d seen you. Earrings hid behind your curls and the lightest bit of make-up was applied to your soft features. Though that didn’t hide the blossoming pink tint gracing your cheeks. Your lips glistened with the lip gloss you had on just like you use to. Smile lines drew at the corner of your eyes as you chuckled over your own words, explaining how you ended up in your current situation.

You always smiled, even when you were feeling down, you always smiled. Whether to hide what you were truly feeling or to just be nice to people, you always smiled. He nearly forgot how beautiful that smile was, with only his dreams used to recall that charming grin, since it has been a rarity for him to look you up or even open the box full of pictures during your years together. Even with the picture he kept in his nightstand, he rarely opened the drawer. Funny how this photographic memory of his nearly forgot the most beautiful piece of art he’s ever seen.

He listened to every single word you uttered as he looked and committed every single detail he could of you to memory. Your hair curled into soft waves, parted and pinned on one side. Your frame, fuller since the last time he saw your thin, nearly skeletal figure on that fateful night. You wore a wine-red wrap top that reached down to your wrists, paired with simple jeans and boots, you looked divine. The dip in the neckline of your shirt revealed the top of your cleavage but the gleaming gold necklace is what caught his attention. It was a simple gold bar plate though engraved with a heartbeat on one side. Common and a bit of a cliché now adays but what was special about that was it was an actual heartbeat. His. He gifted it to you when you both got accepted at Metro General. He explained that it was how his heart beat whenever he thought of you. As you tried to find the words to thank him, he made you turn it over to the other side to another engraving. You know I love you so, it said. A line from one of your favorite songs. He remembered how tears brimmed your eyes as you leaped to him, capturing his lip with yours.

What came as a shock to him now was that you were still wearing it. As he continued to look you over, the sound of your chuckle registered in his ears. God, he loves that sound. A sound he hasn’t heard long before you left. Looking back up to your face, he sees the girl he met all those years ago, buried under piles of books in the library on campus. The very same girl that chuckled at his horrible attempt at a flirtatious first introduction. A small smile tugged at his lips both at the memory and the sound. He hasn’t heard that sound in so long, it was a wonder when he heard it last. He just knew it was long before he fucked up and just chose to relish in the sweet sound now.

Now focusing and giving his undivided attention to your voice now, he listened.

‘I don’t normally sing on stage or in public really unless it’s karaoke with friends, which by the way is how I got tricked into doing this, so pardon me if I seem a bit nervous’ you laugh timidly. A chuckle bubbled at his throat as flashes of you singing whilst cooking in the kitchen of your tiny apartment came into view. Wearing nothing but his shirt as you flipped pancakes, singing from Coldplay to Queen at the top of your lungs or humming to Ed Sheeran whilst you worked and studied case filles.

He knew you enough to know that you were nervous, you didn’t have to say it. After all these years he still knew you better than the back of his scarred hands, heck better than he knows himself.

He saw you look to the side and his eyes followed, landing on the host from earlier. With a smile on his face, he nodded, giving you the reassurance you needed to continue with your performance. And it did, he saw how you pulled the last of your confidence before turning back to the crowd.

A pang of jealousy shot through him as he watched. I mean what did he expect, for you to be alone after all these years. A stupidly selfish part of him even hoped that you’d be waiting for him. To get his act together and you’d be back together. It was incredibly stupid; he knew that but that didn’t stop the creeping grip of jealousy from grasping his heart. As much as he knew how selfish the thought is, that didn’t stop the pain and hurt he felt seeing you look for reassurance in another man. Even after all these years.

The smile he had drawn up earlier had faded to a look of melancholy. It was good you had someone, he thought. Someone to be there for whenever you needed them the most, unlike him.

He watched as you turned and gestured to the pianist who nodded and started to fiddle with the keys. He watched as you took a breath, closed your eyes and began to sway to the smooth melody of the music. A small grin was itching at your lips. You were always more comfortable whenever listening to music and this was evident, unbeknownst to you.

Then you started to sing. You opened your eyes, took a firm grip at the mic and the lyrics just came dripping smoothly from your lips. That melodic voice of yours that he loves so much reminded him of the early mornings in the kitchen, the concerts in the shower and the lullabies to the kids under your care. Little did you know but the sound of your sweet voice always comforted him during the hardest times. He didn’t ask you to sing directly but he always listened whenever you hummed a simple tune or sang a song from some Disney movie to calm the kids in peds ward.

He took in every word that came from your lips. From what he’s heard so far from the first verse, it was about how the man lightened and took away the burden and sorrows the singer felt. The way you sang the song, it was beautiful. It was as if you were truly meaning the words that left your lips and he couldn’t help but feel the envy creeping back up at him, though at the same time, he’s conflicted with relief. He didn’t know if you’ve had someone during the past couple of years but as hurt as he is at the prospect of you with somebody else, it sort of gave him a sense of comfort thinking that you were getting taken care off. It eased some of the weight he felt and often times he thought maybe it was good that you separated. All he'd done with you the last few months of your relationship was hurt and neglect you and if you ever found someone that remedied that, maybe it was for the best that you left.

He watched your eyes flutter to a close again. The way your body moved to the melody of the music completely hypnotized him that his drink was deemed long forgotten.

Why then if he is so perfect, Do I still wish that it was you?

At those words, for some reason that gave him hope. He didn’t know if it was just the song but really, just the way you sang it made it seem all too genuine. He still loves you; he knew that very well. He also knows that he had a better chance in coming up with a new strategy in defeating Thanos (despite the many but one failed attempts he saw using the time stone), than ever getting back in a relationship with you.

You are the most kind, caring and understanding person he knew but you were also stubborn. He might have the chance in getting to apologize and to ask for forgiveness, but a relationship was a billion to one cosmic fluke. Though that didn’t stop him from wondering if you meant those words.

You opened your eyes and continued with the song. He noticed you looking at the growing mass of people watching. From the corner booths to the door, he knew from that growing look at your face that you were surprised to say the least at how many were captivated by your performance.

Then you met his gaze. Those soft blues meeting that beautiful shade of your own eyes. God, how much he loved those shining y/e/c orbs could never be put into words. How they twinkle in the light. The comfort and understanding they held and how they always seem to know he felt.

When he woke up from the crash, the first thing he longed to find were your eyes. The warmth, comfort and security they held, he ached to see those beautiful orbs because for the briefest moments he forgot everything but you. You were his main thought. He forgot about the fight, the neglectful months before, the pale, emaciated figure of yours that haunts his dreams, everything. Only the kind, gorgeous face of the woman he fell for all those years ago stayed in his mind because whenever he thought of comfort, the only thing that formed in his head was, no… is you.

He was hurt, in pain, his body ached, he could barely see let alone open his eyes. He needed comfort, he needed you. But when was life ever nice.

Instead, he was met with the fluorescent lights of the hospital room and the horrific sight of the mangled hands that once led a successful career in medicine. There was no warming gaze to be greeted with, only the sad sympathetic ones he now knows to be from the wrong woman and a cold, sterile room.

Cause sometimes I look… in his eyes

You stumbled over your words as you continued to look at each other. You continued singing but your eyes were locked together. Neither of you could look away. Your mouth moved on autopilot as your eyes lost the spark of a flame you had earlier, just like that night all those years ago, replaced by a reflection of the pain and grief he caused. The very same one that haunts his dreams.

A glimpse of us

You finished, your voice fading as the lyrics came to an end. As soon as the piano tuned out, you smiled and gave a little bow at the crowd who erupted in applause before leaving the stage in a hurry. Welled up tears spilled down warm cheeks as emotions and memories continued to riot your mind. After all these years he still managed to make you cry. Why can’t you move on?

You were quick on getting your belongings from the small prep area behind the stage however your plans of a speedy getaway were quickly ousted by the very same gentleman that perpetrated this whole ordeal.

‘You were amazing! The emotion you put in the performance…’ He continued to ramble on, looking past the curtain and to the roaring crowd cheering on for an encore, completely oblivious of his friend’s distraught state. ‘I mean the teary eyes, come on. Doctoring ever not work for you, acting could be something to con…’ he paused after finally getting a glimpse of you, swiftly wiping away tear streaks that ran down your cheeks but the growing redness in your eyes were dead give aways. ‘Shit’ finally piecing things together, he cursed, his attention fully set on you now. ‘It was real. Fuck, are you okay?’ he asked, finding it difficult figuring out what to do, yet a hint of urgency too as he still had to go back on stage.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.’ You swallowed, lying through your teeth. ‘I just… have to go’ you mumbled quickly, giving him a grin in hopes to resemble something as composed as the friend he knew. Though he knew you enough to know you were not ‘fine’, with great reluctance he let you go, rushing to the stage shortly after exchanging goodbyes and promising to check with him later.

As your friend went back on stage, you quickly took a survey of your appearance on a nearby mirror, making sure you didn’t look as dreadful as you felt. The bit of makeup you had on survived, however your eyes weren’t as forgiving being red. Nevertheless, you sped out to leave.

Considering your options, your only available exits were the front or back door and wanting to avoid individual who has left you in this state (just by being present), you turned to the corridor that lead to the back door but as unfortunate as you were, the exit was blocked by men hauling in delivery shipments and by the looks of things they weren’t going to be done any time soon.

You were antsy enough as it was and waiting by the second for them just added to your agitation. You really needed to leave now.  A lump was lodging itself on your throat and the air around you seemed to be thinning. You need to leave NOW.

Swallowing all the anxieties you had, you had no choice but to rush out the front. You stayed on the side, avoiding the patrons and the one in particular perched up at the bar but unlucky you (your luck really seemed to have vanished really), the man saw your abrupt departure, unbeknownst to you.

You made it out to the street and the open air was a fresh welcome, letting you finally breath, whereas the establishment you had left felt suffocating.

You thought it was done. That the lump in your throat would finally dissolve as you walked down the street, thinking that you had successfully avoided the now famed sorcerer of New York. The hero, Doctor Strange…

but when was life ever good to you.

‘y/n…’ he breathed out, catching the sight of you sprinting toward the doors he entered only moments before. It pulled him out of his reverie, wondering if he should talk to you, what he’d talk to you about, an apology perhaps, contemplation of your years together, however the sight of you pulled him out like it always did, especially in the beginning. He sometimes had the tendency to be too deep in thought, he’d ignore everything and everyone in his surroundings, but he always caught you. Your scent, your voice, let alone your image, it always drew him from his stupor. 

Now the sight of you cemented his thoughts.

Downing the last of his drink, he pulled a bill from his wallet and slammed it down the counter without so much as a look onto how much it was before he scurried out, chasing after you. (Like he should have done all those years ago)

He called out your name once he reached the sidewalk, turning left and right in search for you. The street wasn’t crowded much so it was easy to spot the figure stood still a few yards away to his right. With the last few rays of the dying sun and dim streetlight, he made out the curled head of hair the same shade as yours the figure had, and he just knew it was you.

‘Y/N!’ he nearly shouted, causing a few heads to turn in his direction but not yours. You kept your back to him as he sprinted your way. He knew you heard him. You would have kept on walking had you not.

It only took a second to reach you and when he did, he hesitated, not knowing what to do. He wanted to reach for you and plead for forgiveness. On his knees if he had to. Instead, he opted for another call for your name, hoping you’d finally face him.

And you did, after dropping your hands to your side, he heard a small sniff before you turned to him with your gorgeous smile and said (in a somewhat forced cheer in your voice)

‘Stephen. Hi’

‘Hi’ he replied densely. You idiot, he thought at how stupid his response was.

A silence fell over you both as Stephen canvassed your entirety now at a closer distance. He took in every graceful line, freckle and strand of hair he saw to memory. Every little detail he took in was as important as every breath he took. How bloodshot your eyes were didn’t go unnoticed though. Puffy around the eyelids from crying, red possibly from -he guessed- how hard you were rubbing them just before he reached you.  

Surprising thing is, it still broke his heart seeing the distress you so clearly were trying to hide. The thought of tears running down your cheeks, was illegal. They had no business in gracing your face yet, he can’t help but realize that he just keeps being the reason you were left in that state. Where were all these sympathies back then? He asked himself, the very night flashing through his mind.

‘Stephen’ you said again, taking him out of head again. He missed that though. His name coming off your lips. It brought him back to all the mornings with you in bed, tangled in sheets as the morning glory woke you up and you woke him up with that honey sweet voice with the say of his name. Stephen

‘Sorry, um…’ he coughed, trying to piece a sentence, words, anything really that didn’t end in three syllables.

‘You were wonderful’ he finally managed, okay that’s five ‘Back there at the bar…. you were amazing’ like always, he wanted to add but stopped himself, pointing back to where he just left.

‘Thank you’ you muttered, nodding your head before leaving it down to look at your shoes. The way you responded lacked any sort of confidence, as if you didn’t believe his words or yourself. Truthfully, you were never really the most confident, even back then but always did step up when the situation needed. Either that’s the reason or you didn’t believe him, which considering his case, why should you.

Your hands were fidgeting, he noticed. Running and marking the bones of one hand with your fingers tips before your nails would start to pick on skin. This was something new to him. A new nervous habit of yours he hadn’t known before, so it was most likely picked up after your separation.

The person in front of him wasn’t the same one he knew all those years ago yet, still so similar and the same. He remembers everything about you, so if anything of the woman he knew back then was still in there, he knew by how you were acting that you were uncomfortable, agitated.

‘Really, you were amazing’ he affirmed, really wanting you to believe him, or at least to believe how wonderful you really are. ‘Truly, but are you okay?’

He’d done it. Ask that stupid question and that’s what broke the dam, causing the river to run past it with no mercy.

He heard a laugh at first, your hand raising towards your face. The sound bordered on maniacal, nothing like the one he loved but familiar enough to know he has heard it before. Slowly, your head rose, your hand half covering your mouth, half wiping away the rivers that flowed down your cheeks. The sight finally triggered the memory he was looking for. It was all too similar to that night, it felt like déjà vu.

‘um’ you started, finally managing to say after that little fit ‘I could lie but what’s the point? No. I’m not. I’m not okay because you’re here. Fuck, I actually thought that I could get away from this but no, evidently not.’ You tried to reason, looking him straight in the eyes ‘Christ Stephen, I was okay. I was okay when I was singing, I was okay ten minutes ago but then you just came out of no where and now I’m not okay. I’m never okay whenever it comes to you. Not anymore.’ You spit like venom, unrelenting in your streak to get out all your pain because of him. ‘I thought I could be civil but… I-I’m tired. I’m sorry, I’m gonna go. Enjoy your night’ you hurried, saying your goodbyes and turning your back to him to walk away. You would have gone had he not called you back in such a pleading tone.

‘please’ he begs and for some reason and it compels you to listen. You halt your steps, you don’t turn around, but you do wipe away your tears and he takes that as his chance to apologize for everything. 

‘I’m sorry.’  He starts, his own eyes teary ‘I’m sorry for everything. You didn’t deserve what I did to you and it…’ he swallows that lump in his throat, trying to get the rest of his words out ‘it haunts me every day. You’re the kindest person I know, and I took you for granted. I was an arrogant piece of shit, too self-absorbed to even notice that the woman I love was working herself to death.’ You start to turn around ’You were the purest thing I knew and you didn’t deserve the monster I was. And I am so sorry for who I was then. I’ve changed or I’m trying to change, to be better than- than that monster that hurt you and I could only hope for your forgiveness because, you were always someone I never wanted to lose, and I did. By a stupid mistake and horrible decisions.’ His tears start to run, and you finally face him ‘I never wanted to let you go but I was hurting you more than I was loving you and I understand if I don’t get your forgiveness but, I am sorry. I am so sorry for hurting you. For taking you for granted. For not treating you how you deserved to be treated. For everything. You didn’t deserve what I did to you and hearing myself admit this… really just proves I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need you to know that I am sorry. I’m really sorry for what I did and that… that you deserve.’

You stare at him with tears running down both your eyes and he sees the same urge to wipe them away, in you. The hesitant twitch of your arm as if by instinct, to move and act on the need to clear away his tears and comfort him. At least that’s what he interprets the move of your arm because that’s exactly what you would have done, that’s exactly your character and he wants to do the same. To dry away your tears and take you in his arms in respite.

But you act against those thoughts, only balling your fist as some form of control. You stare into him, as if gauging to find the lie in his words yet there is none and he sees something in your eyes that he can’t explain before they dart away. He watches as you scan your surroundings, looking at the people likely to be watching you both but he didn’t care for them. He only cared about you.

When your eyes turned back to him, you closed them immediately, face scrunching as you desperately tried to hold back to tears but to him, it was as if you were so pained by the mere sight of him. He’d be lying if he said that it didn’t chip away a piece of his heart. 

Your head bowed for a bit as you tried to compose yourself but the words that left your lips once you rose again, only broke more of his heart.

‘You’re forgiven’ you were quick to say before turning back and walking away from him. He watched with wet cheeks, as you sped away from him, and he kept his gaze on you until you disappeared around the corner and then you were gone.

For what seemed like forever, he kept his eyes on that street corner, hoping for something that won’t happen. He knew that whatever he wanted wasn’t going to happen, but a man could hope, right? Though hopes are as easy to diminish as they are to ignite. Grief and disappointment, they tend to last.

The sun had set and streetlights and buildings are all that lit the side walk where Stephen stood. A man well known to the people and thus, there were those who were bound to watch the spectacle put on by the hero. Small crowds had formed over time as they watched the powerful sorcerer confess to the dreadful things he’s done to some doctor from before his fame, asking for forgiveness to all the terrible things he’s done.

To new passersby, they’d wonder why a hero of the city stood so stiff, looking at oblivion. They’d wonder for a minute without context before walking away with a shrug, figuring much more important things to think of.

Eventually, the crowd thinned to a trickle, til the lone man was all that remained the lone street, wondering what he had done to deserve you.

A/U: I've read this way too much to do a final proof read so sorry for all the grammatical mistakes and spellings and all that. Thanks for the read though

I'm hoping that the people who asked to be tagged don't mind me tagging them this late in the game and I hope you liked it. Hopefully it was worth the wait @strangesweetheart @evelynrosestuff @vesta-ro @doodle-cat16 @nabiilahadid @evansmusk @circe143 @dracoflaco

[tinycheesecakedetective]

*Addendum: Fading Letters AU pt. 2: White Lily

I'm a FOOL.

Apparently I've lost all sense of time because I've been gone for a YEAR AND FIVE MONTHS. What the heck. Right. My rendition of Swap!Lily, everyone. It would've been out sooner, but I cannot draw backgrounds for the life of me. This had me stumped for a good long while until I just decided "fuck it we ball", and here we are now. I'm just glad it's out so I don't have to worry about her anymore.

Now unlike PV, I thought White Lily didn't need any updates to her look in the AU. I thought she was pretty set and done, but I reserve the right to change my mind in the future. Her design is pretty simple; it's the blind healer outfit but more so tailored to White Lily. Her staff is bound shut, she's cloaked and wearing rags, and most notably, her eyes aren't visible. She's hiding her identity out of shame, in search of something precious to her.

~~~

Quick Rundown: White Lily is stuck in Beast Yeast after falling ill, so Pure Vanilla went in her place at her request. (For more information, click https://www.tumblr.com/tinycheesecakedetective/744518672544071680/im-baaaack-i-mean-i-made-one-post-about) .

After PV became this universe's Dark Enchantress, the other half of him was sent to the Fairy Kingdom. Meaning unlike Canon PV, White Lily found out VERY quickly about what happened to him(or what she thinks happened, all she knows is that he's dead), and she takes the news horribly. She immediately blames herself for what happened and ended up grief stricken over the entire thing, so much so that she hallucinates him calling out to her. Elder Faerie tried her best to console her afterwards, and told her it would be possible to bring him back. She swears she'll do everything in her power to bring him back, but the Dark Flour War starts and she has to head back to Crispia. During the fighting, White Lily debates telling the others about what happened to Pure Vanilla, but she doesn't get to when she sees what looks like PV. She thinks it's really him, but then upon closer inspection she realizes something's not right. In reality, the real PV is wreaking havoc across Earthbread as this universe's DE, and no one knows it. The final battle is upon them, and PV has them against the ropes, their soul jams in his grasp. In a last ditch effort, White Lily attacks full force with dark moon magic and is able to stop him. She realizes who he really is, and while she's shocked, WL instead shows determination. She's part of the reason why he is the way he is, but she wants to set things right.

After the war, WL spent some of her time in Beast Yeast in order to understand how to bring back PV. With Elder Faerie's help, she returned to Crispia in search of the soul gem shards. She becomes a nomad, wandering around the world and only stopping for breaks. Along the way, she meets several cookies and makes a new friend. Her journey comes to a halt, however, when a group of travelers also finds one of the shards in their own quest.

~~~

Got all that? Great, here are a few head canons! White Lily's the one that bound her staff shut. From time to time, she visits the Vanilla Kingdom and gives a small tribute to PV. WL also keeps in touch with Elder Faerie through white butterflies he sends, and he gives her advice and motivation. Sometimes she makes small resting areas, and whenever she packs up a lily is there in it's place.

And that's it for now! If you have any questions or suggestions, feel free to ask. Y'all have a good evening!

[nerdalmighty]

hey! so, i just recently started playing baldur's gate 3 after seeing people put it all over my dash for months--and you're one of the people i've seen reblogging a lot of posts about it LOL. so if you don't mind me asking, i was wondering what kind of character do you/did you play as? and do you have any sort of backstory for your tav that you'd like to share?

Hoooooooooooooh my god thank you so much for asking. I have a friend who comes over to watch me play on Thursdays and I make a powerpoint every week to catch her up on what she missed - this week's powerpoint literally has slides about my Tav's background (more on those later). This is about to be long, I'm about to drop ALL my lore so buckle up! AND THANK YOU FOR PUTTING UP WITH MY BG3 BRAIN WORMS!!!!! I'm glad they convinced you to play 😈

So to begin, I've been in my first ever dnd campaign with a group of friends for a little over a year now. I didn't know much about Baldur's Gate except that it was a dnd video game and that you could romance people. Me, being a Big Fan of Romance And Fantasy was like "okay well I'm in" and my friend actually let me start a game at his house. Through that, I met Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion.

Backing up a bit to my character; I decided I'd put my character from my irl dnd campaign into the game since I already knew her whole deal. I get pretty overwhelmed with making decisions, ESPECIALLY with big open world games like bg3, so knowing who/what I wanted to be really helped me out.

In the campaign I'm in with friends, it's pirate themed, and I play a half-elf bard named Birdie Harp who's secretly half-siren (murder mermaid). To make a long story very short, she was born in the arctic and escaped her murderous pod during a coming-of-age trial where she also lost her siren abilities (hypnotizing voice, breathing underwater, etc).

I've watched a ton of Dimension 20 which is an actual play show on Dropout.tv (an "actual play" is where you watch other people run a campaign of dnd - like Critical Role, which a lot of people have at least heard of - HIGHLY recommend Dimension 20, as I find it incredibly funny and easier to get into than CR because of the episode lengths), and I knew that I really liked the silliness and theatricality of the bard class. I also loved the bards from The Owl House which helped influence my decision as well.

To be honest, Birdie is my first ever dnd character, so she's basically a self insert but with a MUCH more traumatic backstory than me (this IS dnd after all). As for the half-elf aspect, it was more of an "I want to be half mermaid, what's similar to that?" as opposed to a love for half-elves or something.

BACK TO BALDUR'S GATE - knowing I wanted Birdie to be in the game, I felt a lot less overwhelmed to come up with something entirely new - I knew a lot about the bard class having played one so I wanted to CONTINUE playing one (and I've learned even more since playing bg3!).

When I finally got my own game (I no longer play at my friend's house, but in the comfort of my own home), I recreated Birdie and started on my journey in earnest. I'm VERY MUCH someone who likes to be in control and know what to expect, so I've had guides and walkthroughs to help me the whole time - SUE ME! When it came to first meeting Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion back at my friend's house, Gale actually immediately stole my heart - a kind, witty wizard who likes books and cats? Literally say less. I went home from that session with my friend fully thinking I'd be a Gale girlie until I really looked into the other options and saw The Vampire.

Blah blah blah, he's hot and funny, but he can also be incredibly soft, which really won me over in the end. So I've been romancing That Guy.

Through Acts 1 and 2, I wasn't all too sure about this version of Birdie's background - sure she COULD still be that half-siren from the arctic, but the game kept suggesting she was FROM Baldur's Gate. I LOVED the inclusion of the harpies in Act 1 and thought maybe that was a viable entry point for her backstory, but so far, she was kind of just... me? She was making the choices I wanted to make (and a few that I knew Astarion would like lmao), but she wasn't really her own entity apart from me except for her name. She also felt vastly different from that character I'd created for my friends over a year ago. For instance, my irl Birdie currently has a crush on a Gale-type character, but this Birdie is ass deep in Astarion (hey, sorry I said "ass deep in Astarion"). The thing I love about Baldur's Gate 3 is how you can really come up with your own backstories, since the in-game one for your Tav is so vague. It's totally fine to ignore tiny details in the game and mold them to your own headcanons for your Tav, but I was so unsure of what I wanted for this Birdie that I kind of internalized that she was from Baldur's Gate.

HEADS UP! The following has some spoilers for Act 3 and some side quests, so STOP reading if that's something you'd care to avoid (the last 3 paragraphs of this post are SAFE from spoilers):

When Act 3 finally rolled around (which is where I am currently, I only have the one playthrough so far because I become INCREDIBLY attached to things), I stumbled across the Water Queen's House in Baldur's Gate. Ah ha! Now this felt promising.

A temple dedicated to the Vengeful Sea Goddess, Umberlee, and her loyal Wave Servants to serve her. It's ocean themed, it has mermaid undertones, and their goddess is basically evil. Seems like the perfect place to FINALLY insert this version of Birdie. I wasn't 100% sure until I completed the Iron Throne mission and was faced with either handing a (mostly) innocent man over to the Wave Servants, or fighting to defend him.

Here are a few of the slides from this week's powerpoint that I mentioned all the way back at the start, starting with SOME background on the Wave Servants:

Ass and Shart are what I affectionately call Astarion and Shadowheart (Also I got this beautiful "Birdie" art on Pinterest which originated from someone named Dantrelium on Reddit):

Apologies for the small text here, but there are some more details about THIS Birdie here, which I literally made up/figured out earlier this week:

Essentially, this Birdie was born at the Water Queen's House as Kittiwake Crest - Kittiwakes are common arctic birds, which I thought would be a nice little homage to the original character she was based off of. She was raised by the collective of Wave Servants there, the main one being Flood Tide Allandra Grey who seems to be head honcho at the Wave Mother's House (in this reality, she is).

Since Umberlee is such a vengeful goddess, I imagine she asked her Wave Servants to commit unspeakable acts in her name, mainly drownings, which THEY see as merciful, but I think Birdie always saw as horrifying. Who were they to decide the fates of others? I also think that the Wave Servants themselves were abusive during her upbringing to keep her in line (but much like how Nocturne was a light in the darkness for Shadowheart, I don't think EVERY Wave Servant was evil). GOTTA have a classic tragic backstory.

Upon researching Umberlee, I learned that most of her servants are clerics, so in my mind, that means Birdie was raised to eventually become one, with her official title eventually going to be "Seawind Kittiwake Crest." Is she still half-siren/mermaid though? Not entirely sure. This IS a magical world though, so I'd be inclined to say yes, probably.

But when we first meet the Wave Servants, they're singing beautifully for their drowned sister, Holli. I think Birdie REALLY loved music and singing with her sisters and secretly trained herself in bard magic when she should have been learning to be a cleric. It's also a classic trait of bards to hide their pain through humor, so I often imagine the type of stupid things Birdie gets up to to bring herself joy (my favorite headcanon being when you meet Skittle the Rat in Wyrm's Rock prison - he's a rat merchant who speaks exclusively in puns. I think Birdie and Gale would excitedly throw puns back and forth with Skittle while Astarion and Shadowheart begrudgingly (and affectionately) roll their eyes in the background).

Another thing I love about the game is how you can string together your own ideas of how companions react to things between big cut scenes. For example, in my head, in my game, Astarion has really become a Big Softy thanks to how fucking Stupid (affectionate) Birdie acts in life and has drawn him out of his shell, but also runs a tag team scam with her where she plays her lute to distract people while he loots an entire place. Gale is Birdie's partner in crime when it comes to tomfoolery and loves to joke and fool around with her (so long as it goes easy on his knees). And Shadowheart is basically a sister figure who flip flops between sassing with Astarion and joining in on the fun. THEY'RE JUST THE BEST, OKAY? OF COURSE I'M GONNA WALK AROUND WITH A BUNCH OF IDIOTS. I LOVE THEM.

Anyway, back to Birdie's backstory: she always hated the atrocities that were asked of her, and she was looking for a way out, but was too scared to take that step and leave since the Wave Mother's House is all she's ever known. One night, while stepping out to quietly dip her toes in the water, the Mindflayers captured her, and that's where we start Act One, all the way up on the Nautiloid. She changed her name to Birdie to distance herself from her previous life, fully took up the bard class, and the rest is history.

Back to that dilemma with handing over that (mostly) innocent guy or fighting the Wave Servants: with encouragement from the party, they convince Birdie to face her traumatic upbringing and fight the Wave Servants once and for all. At this point in Act 3, she's basically helped every single person with their problems except her own. Here's another slide featuring Ass and Birdie:

That's right folks, Birdie faced her past! But the bad news is we don't get to see Astarion in this (audio from The Adventurous Adventures of One Direction):

(Video description - Astarion from Baldur's Gate 3 wearing the Wave Mother's Armor with the following audio:

Guard 1: Whoa, check it out.

Guard 2: Hubba hubba hubba.

Gaurd 1: Nice. I love dudes in skirts.

END VIDEO.) I don't want to tell you how many times I recorded that until I felt like I got it right lol. Also yes, I DID do a scum save where I handed the guy over ONCE just so I could see Ass in this outfit, but Birdie did canonically save Redhammer in my actual save file.

And honestly, that's BASICALLY it for now! My most recent save was after that battle, so I need to figure out if Birdie's going to go back with her party to confront the rest of (or most of) the Wave Servants, or if this chapter of her life is closed.

In an ideal world I'd LOVE to make one of those artsy gif edits of my Tav like this and this, but PS5s make it hard to download clips without uploading them to YouTube first which I don't really want to do.

Thank you SO MUCH for this ask, I had a blast writing it!! Sorry it's so long, I just love this game so much and LOVE talking about it. Please feel free to ask more questions OR chat with me about YOUR Tav! I'd love to hear all about them :)

[what0smart]

Jay and Jon: Absolute Power

Been a while since I posted but I wanted to make a post as a sort of quick refresher for what we know about Absolute Power and what it's gonna be like for Jay and Jon. (Some of this will be more speculation as some of it is not 100% confirmed but the majority of this is accurate based on what we've seen.) Spoilers Ahead!!!

Amanda Takes Control of Gamorra

In Suicide Squad:Dream Team we follow Nia as she struggles to fight against Amanda as she is forced to help in a hostile take over of Jay's country, I'll get back to Nia's role in this soon. In Issue 2 of Dream Team Bizarro acts on Amanda's orders and ends up killing Jay's mother, but right before that Jay is telling her that he's trying to call Jon for help but he's not picking up his phone.

For a while we were unsure if something had happened to Jon or if he just wasn't near his phone which many, including myself, doubted because of Jon's super hearing and how attentive he is as a boyfriend, but now we know why he didn't answer the phone.

Jon was Missing

For a long period Jon was just nowhere to be seen in the comics, even in a Brainiac event focused on the entire Kent family. In that event Clark mentions that Jon is with the Titans, but the next week we saw that he was not with them despite both comics taking place at nearly the same time. It didn't feel like they just didn't have room for Jon in the story but more that he was intentionally not present. We now know that it's because he has been kidnapped by Brainiac, as we now have the covers for Jon's solo issue in Absolute power "Superson". It seems like Amanda had gone after Jon first before going after the Nakamura's knowing that Jon would intervene unless stopped beforehand. There’s a chance that this could be wrong and we won’t know until after the event releases but until then this is the working theory.

Nia's Betrayal

In Issue 4 of Dream Team we end up seeing why Nia hasn't stopped Amanda despite her opportunities, it's because Nia's parents are under threat if Nia steps out of line.

While her actions are understandable she did just chose her own parents over Jay's mother and his country and that choice is going to cause a strong divide between the two of them. If you're more interested in this Nicole Maines, the creator of Nia and one of the writers for Absolute Power recently had an interview going over how Jay, Jon, and Nia's relationships are going to have massive changes throughout this story.

We're going to start with this spike in Nia and Jay's relationship as previews for Absolute Power #1 show that Nia is tasked with Deadshot in capturing Jay so he doesn't use his platform on Truth and Amanda keep's control of the narrative.

Final thoughts

I am personally very excited for this event, at it's base I'm glad to get an event which feels like if the heroes win could be a conclusion to Amanda Waller for quite sometime if not permanently. This is a very unique story and it's exactly what I've been hoping for Jon to get conflict wise of putting him in a position where he feels powerless, it's also going to dive into his past which is always nice to see finally happen for Jon. Jon's event appearances in my opinion are consistently pretty good in things like Dark Crisis and Beast world so I'm really happy he's a main character. It's nice to see Jay being involved in a major conflict in a way his addition feels very natural with references back to Son Of Kal-El and will have lastly impacts on him as a character, especially for Jay's first event appearance. We haven't seen much of Nia's friendship with them so it's nice to have more at the for front now rather than in the background, even if it is kind of their friendship falling apart. This is also Nia's first real time in the spotlight starting out with Dream Team and leading into this, which I have very much enjoyed so far, Nicole is not afraid to put Nia in really tough spots or give her flaws which I appreciate. This event has some of my favorite writers on it like Mark Waid so I'm expected good things and I hope you all who read this enjoy it too.

Edit

I had to make some corrections and you can find those here

As well as now that the issue released you can read the update to this post here

[writingbirdy]

You and me against the world sal fisher x f!reader

[Sorry for not uploading been sick and now exams have started😅. Also, this is set in modern-day ] (f/n)= female name

It had been a few months since you and the gang all went to college...

Sadly you didn't stay together. Sal and Larry went to a local college, Todd went to a college in another city and Ash went to an art college. Here you were stuck working as you couldn't afford to go into debt and weren't able to get a scholarship.

It was a slow day at the gas station not many people bought anything except for gas... but hey at least after these next two paychecks you can finally do online classes and still have money left over! But even that didn't distract you from not having your friends around with all of them in college you started to wonder if they had forgotten about you... You had seen from Ashley's Instagram that they had all recently gotten together for a hangout. I broke your heart when you realised you weren't invited but not surprised. You had always struggled to be a part of the group, they were your friends but you were not as close as they all were with each other. Just as you went to check your phone the doors beeped indicating that someone was there. "Great just when I thought I could take my break..." you thought putting on your happy service employee smile. "Hello, how may I help you today?" You said in a cheerful tone. "I'd just like to pay for gas. Thanks" the man said as he held up his card ready to pay. "Of course what pump were you at?" "Pump 2" After that you pulled up the cost and he paid. "Hey, have we met before you seem familiar?" He said looking at you.

It was true you looked different from high school.

[This is the look minus the head piece]

Your hair was longer and your style had changed and truth be told the man standing in front of you was non other that Sal fisher. You were a bit upset he didn't recognise you considering you had a huge crush on him back in highschool but hey I guess you weren't truly important to him. "We probably went to high school together but I had changed since then...." you gave a small smile as he walks out the doors. After your shit had ended you noticed that Ash had tagged you in something on Instagram. Opening the app it was photos of you guys back in highschool with the caption "together in every lifetime <3". You didn't bother responding as you knew it was another empty post with no meaning. You unlocked your apartment door and went to your room and proceeded to sleep the rest of the night.

3rd person pov

Waking up to your ringtone was not something [f/n] was happy about. She answered the phone to be greeted with the sound of todd? That was new todd never rang her or even texted her after graduation.

[F/n]: "um hi todd?"

Todd: "Hello [f/n] Ashley has lost her phone so she asked me to call you" he said in a semi monotone voice

Ash: "hey todd did she pick up?"

Ash: "Oh! [f/n] I'm so glad you picked up!"

[F/n]: "it's not like I had a chose"

Ash: "well anyway how about me and you go out shopping in two hours!"

All [f/n] could think of is why now was she asking her to hang out? Also it's still the second semester of college there's not way she has time to shop before class and to make it worse [f/n] had work in half an hour.

[F/n]: sorry Ashley but I have work soon...

She didn't wait for a response and hung up the phone and deleted Todd's number.

2nd person pov

While at work sal came back into the gas station. "Excuse me but do you have any chips that aren't plain?" He asks walking up to the counter. "No sorry we've ran out" you replied ringing his items up. "Ah okay... just one last question?" "Sure..." you were already bored and your shift doesn't finish for another 4 hours.

"Is your name [f/n]?" Sal asked.

"Was it Ashley's post that helped you figure that out?" You said blankly staring at sal.

"Yeah! It's been a while since we spoke would you like to get coffee and catch up?" He stuttered out.

"Why does it sound like you're asking me out on a date?" You questioned praying it was not the answer you would never recover from......

[Hehehe cliffhanger 😈. But seriously it's almost midnight and I just want a chapter out so this can be a two parter]

[blanketorghost]

A Taste of Something New (Pt. 2)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Hiiiieee.... finally I have written part 2 of this <3

I only got the motivation after i took the wrong bus back home and had to go thru a 2 hour bus trip teehee

Summary: Against his better judgement, Yuu wants to bring Azul a meaningful souvenir from the scalding sands.

Pairing: Yuu Fujisaki x Azul Ashengrotto (one-sided), Azul Ashengrotto x Jamil Viper (implied, one-sided)

Timeline: During/Post Al'ab Narya and Ch. 4. Pre Ch. 5

Notes: Azul may be OOC? Have never been good at writing him convincingly imho

----

"Hmngh... hmph... mrrngh... Henchman! What's the hold up!!"

Grim calls out as he stuffs himself with another samosa, the tiny treat almost looking like a regular loaf of bread in the cat's hands. Yet, it disappears just as quickly as all the other meals and snacks he's been served. And as if that weren't enough, he had yet to be satisfied.

"I'm so sorry about all this..." Yuu mutters at one of the cooks as he hands Grim another tray of freshly baked naan bread and a bowl of baba ghannouj, knowing they'd be gone in seconds despite the agonizing hours it'd taken the Asim's staff to make the everything. Yet, the servant merely shakes his head and laughs.

"Nonesense. Seeing someone eat our food with such gusto is one of the biggest compliments a chef can get, and this isn't anything compared to what we have to prepare for our master's feasts. Please eat freely."

Yuu nods and sits down, a slight blush still dusting his cheeks. He gently takes a piece of naan as splits it, giving the other half to Grim, then dips the soft bread on the sauce, trying to get a healthy portion without spilling all over the expensive clothes.

"Hey, Yuu! Can you taste the pomegranate? I'm sure they added some juice to it!" Without waiting for Yuu to even take a bite and savor the flavor for himself, Grim shoves a pawful of baba ghannouj to his mouth, naan and all.

Goodness, cleaning Grim's fur after this will be hell on earth.

Yuu, with a few coughs, struggles to accept the food without choking. He tries to savor anything other than cat hair and the odd combination of flavors carried with them, all mixed with the baba ghannouj itself. His face turns red, and finally giving up, he chugs some lemonade from the copper cup right beside him. "Grim...! I have hands, I can feed myself." Yuu chides, still coughing a little and covering his mouth.

"But did you taste 'em?!"

"Well..." Yuu trails off, and before Grim can either throw a tantrum or shove another pawful of food into his mouth, another servant comes to the rescue. "Why not try it by itself, then? That way, you can savor the baba ghannouj with and without the naan to compare." She hands both Grim and Yuu a small spoon, and Yuu can't help but mouth off a silent 'thank you' for this small mercy he was given.

"I'm glad you decided to join me in the kitchen." Trey says as he scribbles something on his own notepad, nibbling on a cookie he now knew was called. Ma'amoul— one of Kalim's sibling's favorites. "What changed your mind?"

"Oh, you know..." Yuu shrugs "since Grim made this 'Gourmet club' up, and technically, that makes me its founder too, I'd thought it'd be nice if I contributed to it by gathering up recipes" Yuu says, nonchalantly taking a spoonful of the baba ghannouj. The taste is definitely odd... in a good way. But definitely unlike anything he'd ever had before in either Earth or Twisted Wonderland. He wondered if it would be the same for Azul.

"Why not buy a recipe book, then?"

"Do I look like the kind of person with the money to splurge on books?"

"Weelll...." Trey gives him a smirk— one Yuu had become all too familiar with in the past few months— and eyes him up and down. Of course, if anyone saw Yuu with the robes he had on now, they definitely would've thought he had the same wealth these clothes represented.

At Trey's response, Yuu gives him an unamused, sarcastic laugh and nudges him with his feet. "Hey. If I was slightly more cunning, desperate, or ungrateful, I definitely would've auctioned this off to the best bidder. But have you seen Kalim get sad?"

Trey shakes his head.

"It's heartbreaking. Believe me. And I don't wanna make him sad by selling off his gifts."

"Really? I don't think he'd mind if he knew what it was for."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"Buying your crush a fancy recipe book, obviously."

"Shut up." Yuu toes his friend as Trey snickers, averting his eyes to the chai he was drinking with the cookies. "I don't even know what books he has. I could accidentally buy a duplicate. Besides, the Gourmet club..."

"Uh huh. That's totally the reason why you're here."

"If you keep at it, I'll tell Riddle of all of the Queen's Rules you've broken since we've got here."

"He won't mind. I've got boyfriend privileges."

"Oh, boo." Yuu huffs loudly and looks back down at the table, finally allowing himself to have another spoonful of the baba ghannouj. He takes his time savoring the creamy paste, "Hmn. This is great, actually." Yuu tries to take another bite, but before he even gets it, he notices that the bowl has already been scraped clean. ".... Grim?!" Yuu chastizes his pet/friend/child. "You couldn't even save me a little?"

"I saved you a spoonful!" The cat wiggles his own empty spoon around. "That's already quite generous, if I do say so myself."

"I couldn't even have it with the naan."

"Yeah you did! I gave you some!"

"No, you shoved some into my mouth. That's different."

"Meh. Same difference." Grim shrugs and moves onto the next plate of food, picking up a fork to spear up a kind of meatball. " 'Sides, I've been writing all the things I can taste down like you told me, look!" He waves over a stained piece of paper with barely anything legible in it. "See, Yuu? I'm being super nice right now!"

"Yeah. Super nice." Yuu grumbles as he turns around to look at Trey's notes, hoping he'd take pity on him and share his own findings on Scalding Sands cuisine. "Watcha got there?" He peeks at Trey's notebook, feigning innocent curiosity.

"Some dessert recipes. I don't think your loverboy may like them, though. They're very high on calories." Trey hums as he scribbles something out, then quickly crosses it out and replaces it with another note. "You may be luckier with salad and soup recipes."

"Yeah, I know." Yuu sighs and places a hand on his cheek. "But I want the recipe book to be really complete. If it's going to work as a Mostro Lounge menu reference, you know."

"Uh huh. You're such an attentive employee." Trey cracks another joke, but instead of snapping back, Yuu only deflates further, sighing once more.

"I just.... I like him a lot." He mumbles, a red tint slowly rising to his cheeks and ears. "I really want him to like it."

"I know." Trey reciprocates the sigh with another and looks back at his friend, an unsure expression on his face. Finally, after thinking it over, he gives Yuu a reassuring pat on the back. "Fine. I'll help you out with the desserts. But you'll have to ask the cooks directly for the more savory recipes."

Grim, which was just a mere seconds ago devouring a helping of H'riss, perks up at Trey's mention. "There's no need for that, henchman! I've written all the ingredients I could taste like you asked me, look!!"

Grim holds out a stained notepad proudly, all of which is filled with more chicken-scratch writing and doodles. Trey leans over and squints, taking off his glasses and putting them on again.

He turns to Yuu and raises and eyebrow, an expression which Yuu quickly shrugs off.

"Good job, Grimmy." Yuu ruffles his friend's head and smiles, taking the notepad. "Your handwriting has also gotten better."

Grim smiles proudly. "Of course! The great Grim-sama has the best handwritting in all of NRC!"

"Of course." Yuu chuckles, Trey also stifling a snicker in the background.

~

Gathering recipes from the staff was surprisingly easy once Yuu's intentions were made public. It seemed that people's secrecy over treasured family recipes was forgotten as soon as the subject of love and wooing one's crush with food was brought up.

So much so, Yuu was able to fill up the entire test notebook in just that afternoon, now all he needed to do was pass on the clean writing to the one he was going to give Azul, and his gift would be complete.

At the suggestion of one of the cooks, Yuu also gathered sample-sized packets of Silk City exclusive spices and herbs, all paired up with a recipe for each. They were even kind enough to give some more expensive items like saffron for free, something he never would've been able to get with his meager budget.

"How are you feeling, Grim?" Yuu asks as he looks at his companion, all sprawled out in their guest bed after the firelit festival's celebrations.

Yuu had decided to skip over the majority of the banquet in favour of staying in his room crafting up the book, meticulously writing down each recipe by hand with as clean and clear handwriting as he could. Finally putting his childhood calligraphy classes to the test, Yuu's strokes are careful and deliberate, and he doesn't spare any details when it comes to the ornamentation of the titles of each recipe.

The ghost camera had also come in handy, each page having its own picture. Small ripples of steam could be seen wafting off some dishes, while with others, one could even smell the aroma of the items. It was, Yuu thought, something that made this recipe book stand out from the other ones he could've bought.

Surely, Azul would like this one... he hoped.

Grim, on the other hand, had spent the whole night partying with the others, and while Yuu felt a little bad by entrusting his pet-beast to Tsunotarō, he was sure it wouldn't be that much of a problem either way, given they already got along swimmingly. His friend arrived late into the night and practically flopped belly up onto the bed, making some dawn feathers fly out of the pillows.

"Mrrgh... so.... full...." Grim mumbles, his tummy completely stuffed in what Yuu could only guess would be double his body weight in food.

"Did you have fun?" Yuu asks, briefly lifting up his gaze from his writing to look at his friend, then switching his pen from one hand to the other once it got too tired.

"Yeah!!" Yuu raises a hand up. "There were... mgh... so many fireworks after the main show, and sparklers too! ... Kalim also showed us.... his monkeys n stuff." Grim says, his voice wavering from excited to dead tired with each word."

"I'm glad you did. You didn't cause any trouble in there, did you?" Yuu hums, smiling idly as he takes one of the spice packets and sticks it with some double-sided tape to the corresponding page.

"Of course not! I was... a good boy." Grim sleepily protests, then lifts his head up. "Henchman... why does the room smell so tasty? You're not hiding any snacks from me, are you??"

"Must be the spices." Yuu chuckles a bit, then unwraps a paper packet. "But I did save you some keema naan that the staff brought me for dinner."

"Yummy!" Grim, despite his apparent tiredness a few seconds ago, springs out from the bed and walks over to Yuu, sitting by his side and taking the bread in his paws. "Y'know, henchman. You should eat well too. Take this!" He says, ripping half of the naan, but Yuu shakes his head.

"It's fine. I already ate." Yuu smiles without taking his eyes off the notebook. "Besides, I could get the pages greasy."

"Hmph." Grim only shoots Yuu a look at his answer, and with a little hesitation, he eats the ripped up half along the rest.

They stay there for a few minutes, Grim chewing on his food happily while Yuu continues writing, juggling the pen between his two hands with a soft smile on his face. With a small groan, he stops only to stretch out his wrists and fingers, spinning them in slow, clockwise circles.

"... Hey, Grim?" Yuu asks as he rubs his right hand, squeezing every now and then. His voice is soft and low as he speaks, a little flustered, even. "... Do you think... Azul will like this?"

He looks down at the remaining pages, looking at the detailed instructions and intricate writing, a soft blush dusting his cheeks.

Grim stays silent for a second, mulling over his thoughts as he stares at Yuu, then clicks his tongue.

"He'd be real dumb if he didn't."

[gloriousburden]

Hey!! I just wanna say your takes on Loki are super refreshing to read, and they cleared up my mind a little! Maybe this sounds a little stupid but I got so confused after rewatching everything (+ watching the series and I feel like that was the breaking point xd) and since I didn't read anything nor any opinions I was. Just lost in these jambled thoughts because I couldn't figure out Loki's character well since he just feels so... so different after Avengers/TDW and I really couldn't tell wtf was going on with him for a while until I sat down and deconstructed everything since it was so bad?? Maybe it's just me and I'm slow but I seriously never had that experience with a character I fixated before and I can't tell if it was because how badly Loki was handled by his writers or it's just me being scatterbrained or both 😭

Anyway thanks again this isn't anything new just wanted to let you know,, your/others takes in your posts are the ones that resonate the most with me and I feel less alone lol when I read some of them on other platforms it's either too much shipping or just... things that don't really make sense to me xd

So yeah, there's no take here, but thanks if you read!! You don't have to answer 🫰

Hello! I am so glad to hear that I could help. I know that feeling all too well, and it’s exactly why I started posting on here. Watching each weekly episode of the series as it was coming out was torture. It was like a punch to the gut every single time that they belittled Loki, mischaracterized him, hinted to the romance with Sylvie, had him consistently forgive the characters who treated him like shit, and took it all in a direction that… had absolutely nothing to do with Loki.

I fell in love with Loki’s character around 5 months before the series came out, and everyday I mourn what the fandom used to be despite the short amount of time I experienced it the way it was. Of course there was mischaracterization, but never was it as widespread as this.

In all honesty, the series turned me off from liking Loki for a hot minute. It disgusted, angered, and saddened me so much. I lost the ability to enjoy watching or interacting with anything related to Loki because I was reminded of it all each time. I remember watching the finale feeling complete fucking shock and a sense of dread. On top of all that bullshit… there’s going to be a season 2?! 🤦🏻‍♀️

I took comfort in the shared reaction and negativity Loki TikTok (at the time) had to it lol. What annoyed the shit out of me also was people beginning to ship Lokius/Sylki. You saw what both of those characters did to him, why ship them? the shipping bullshit is the worst. What happened to people liking Loki for JUST BEING LOKI?

I had that same confusion. How could this be Loki at all, but especially Loki after the events of THE AVENGERS?! This couldn’t even be Ragnarok Loki, so how could it be Loki DIRECTLY after/during his most villainous? I just kept thinking to myself.. Loki is intelligent. He is strong. He is more than what they represented him as. And he never deserved any of that. He is playful, of course. But he is not a buffoon who lets others walk all over him. He doesn’t deserve to be the laughingstock in a series that was supposed to uplift him. No other character was “humbled” in their own series like this.

Like you said, you’ve never had this experience with characters you’ve been fixated on before. I felt the same way. I had many favorite characters who were killed off, yet their deaths weren’t as brutal to me as the character assassination Loki was put through. I think I posted something along the lines of that. That all of this has made mourning Loki’s actual death in Infinity War so… weird.

The next months or so, I tried getting back into loving Loki. Which as you can probably tell… it worked. But I was still so disgusted by the series. I would pace around my room thinking of Loki rants in my head, and I’d write them down in my notes app just thinking… ‘well that doesn’t fucking add up.’

What helped was knowing there were others that shared the same feelings that I did.

I began lurking on this side of Tumblr, reading everyone’s posts (and even masterlists) of reasons why the series was so fucking garbage, and how it did absolutely no justice to Loki’s character.

It helped me realize and identify the reasons why the series upset me so much. It also helped me learn more about Loki’s character in general, to which I fell more in love with him. It helped me feel less alone, and I wanted to voice my own opinions as well. I felt so lost, and I really wanted to connect with others who felt the same.

Eventually, I began posting my own rants as well as following a bunch of other OG Loki fans who primarily focused on Loki’s character before the series (as well as before Ragnarok.)

These were people who understood Loki, and loved him as much as I did. I found community, and everyday I am so grateful for everyone here. I was (and still am) heavily fixated on Loki, and the mischaracterization would irk me so fucking badly. The lack of love for Loki for who he is, outside of ships and fanon, hurt me. He means a lot to me even if he is just a fictional character. I see myself in him.

So… long story short, it really means a lot that I could play a part in helping you out with your own confusion and feelings of loneliness through all of this bullshit. It’s the same thing I went through a few years ago. Wanting to help as well as wanting to connect with others who felt lost and hurt like I did, was why I started posting on here. It’s a bit of a full circle moment for me lol.

Other platforms are DREADFUL. I think I’ve said this on here somewhere before, but Pinterest has a lot of OG Loki content, and I find it easier to avoid the series related stuff. I recommend checking it out if you haven’t. Also… I HIGHLY recommend using the google search Before:Year feature helps so much!! It’s pretty fun to see a lot of the first reactions to Loki’s character, as well as the outdated memes 😭😭😭 OG Loki fangirls paved the way!!

It really is a peculiar ass situation. My favorite character has been killed off, an alternate version of him was revived, and it’s all complete misery. What REALLY annoyed me though was people just accepting it.. Like what? Really? This is Loki to you?

Thank you for this, and I’m glad you feel less alone. I hope that you continue to find community within this side of Tumblr. It’s all I ever wanted for anyone who stumbled across my blog. So sorry for the long ass response LOL