#if he hadn't been there she would have been so alone and lonely in her work and efforts

[kieranduffysgirl]

Jack Marston (1914) fluff ♡

Jack Marston x f!reader

warning: mentions of prostitution, drinking, death/loss, comfort and fluff, tension and kissing, kind of like raunchy like whimpering and stuff, absolutely painfully lovesick Jack.

a/n: fluffy and sad but kinda raunchy bcos I just love Jack, baffles me that this poor boy is my age just want to give him a big kiss and make him some dinner 🫶

Jack Marston. A troubled, nineteen year old boy with a death wish. His mother and father were both gone, uncle too. Now he was alone, which he hated, he was rendered completely alone.

Yet, he was still an awkward young man who just wanted company, he probably needed it after all the suffering he had endured.

So there he was, wandering the streets of Blackwater. The lonesome cowboy. He gave awkward, toothy smiles to passers by which contradicted the outlawish exterior he adorned.

His boots clicked along the street, his steps scraped across the ground. The evening breeze was cool, it sent a chill down his spine. His beige, worn jacket hung lazily over his shoulders and his jeans were loose around his waist, but held up by his father's gun belt.

His callous fingers ran over his hair as he slipped his hat off upon entering the saloon, aiming the drink for the evening and enjoy a warm meal. The nights were tough at Beechers Hope, left to fix himself dinner due to the loss of his mother's home cooking. The loneliness crept in through the cracks and crevices.

He dragged himself through the small crowd to the bar, attempting to find an empty stool when his eyes met hers. Wide and full of wonder, yet tainted by so much hurt.

She must have been his age, both young and out of place in such a worn and timely saloon. Her skin looked so soft, so different to his own, so scarred and marred. Freckled adorned her skin like stars in the night sky.

Her hair hung over her shoulders in such a beautiful manner he felt his heart rate increase. He hadn't had a girlfriend before, sure he had kissed a girl before but never anything more. But he was so alone, and all he wanted was to be like his mother and father.

Little did he know she was just as alone as he was. She had lost her parents, a tragic accident and illness took them from her, and she was completely alone. It was her first night working the saloon, she wore an old dress another woman had leant her, a ridiculously tight corset that felt as if it was holding her together yet it was probably snapping her ribs. He noticed the way she sat awkwardly trying to cover her cleavage with her hair, it sparked a wave of sympathy through him, she was anxious and didn't want a single soul to notice her.

He thought she was beautiful, like an angel, the prettiest girl he had ever seen. He felt his jaw go slack as he watched her fiddle with her hair and the lace of her corset. A simple, silver locket hung around her neck, lying gracefully on her collar bones.

After a moment of contemplation, he sat down beside her and awkwardly cleared his throat. The barman automatically poured his usual beverage, but she kept her eyes on the window behind the bar.

"I...ah, evenin' lady." He mumbled shyly as he felt his cheeks flush beneath his facial hair. He was desperate for her attention, to be closer to her, not in a strange way just in a way that he felt as if she would understand him. She wouldn't find his need to closeness odd.

"Evenin' Mister," She replied quietly, reluctantly turning her gaze to him, "You're looking for some company?"

His fingers gently found the rim of his glass as he nodded awkwardly, "Mhm...if yer offering?"

He couldn't bring himself to look at her yet, he wanted to steal another glance but he felt foolish. She probably spent her evenings with the older, better looking ranchers who frequented to saloon. She probably had no interest in an awkward, lonely outlaw who had never been with a girl before.

She nodded wordlessly, "I...I suppose I am offering-" Her words were shy, timid and almost strained. She seemed bothered by something, but the man behind the bar cut her off.

"This is our latest girl, Marston...look at her ain't she just as sweet as pie..." His words were sweet yet laced with something so sickening, Jack could feel it in the back of his throat.

"I...I...follow me then," She mumbled quietly before adding, "My rooms upstairs with the other girls..."

He nodded wordlessly and gently reached for her hand and murmured, "I'm Jack..." as he let her lead him upstairs.

She mumbled her name quietly to him and laced her fingers with his. She seemed genuinely scared or overly timid, it made him even more nervous. All he wanted was to feel loved, he wanted someone to care for him.

"Just up here, Jack..." She mumbled quietly as she unlocked the door to the small room and pulled him inside.

Once inside, his hands found her hips clumisly and he lean closer to press his lips to hers. They were chapped, from biting at them due to nerves, and he tasted like whiskey. His lips moved against her in a tender, yet shy way but a slight hint of desperation. His callous hands glided up to hers jaw to hold her in place as he kisses her.

Her plump and soft lips glided over his and gently parted to welcome his tongue, she tasted of sweet wine and toothpaste. Her kiss was gentle and shy, it lacked confidence or self assurance. He let his tongue explore her mouth as he quietly whimpered into her mouth with slight shame.

He pulled away slightly and whispered, "...'m sorry..." as he blushed deeply over his needy and breathless state, his voice resembling his gentle whimper from before.

"It's okay...I...well your doing okay, I think?" She mumbled quietly as she gently petted his hair in a tender manner, a sensation he hadn't felt for a long time. It earned her a faint whimper as he gently snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her into him.

"You think?" He mumbled softly, "Surely yer usual men ain't whimpering like a hurt dog..." as he buried his nose in her hair and held her tightly, so softly and gently like he wanted to keep her close and safe.

"You're my first, Jack..." She whispered softly as she gently nestled into his chest and sniffled softly, hot tears pouring down her cheeks. She was so scared, so shy, but he made her feel safer than most of the other men in the saloon ever would.

"Wait...er, me?" He mumbled before pulling away slightly to just stare awkwardly as he held her shoulders, "I'm yer first client...no sugar, I'll go...I don't think...I mean, I ain't ever touched a girl...I shouldn't be the one to take yer innocence..."

She nodded quietly and pulled away sniffling and pushing tears away, "I'm sorry...should have told you."

He shook his head and whispered, "C'mere..." as he tried to coax her closer, "Let me help yer wipe those tears, sugar."

She nodded wordlessly and sat down on the bed and let him perch next to her, one arm around her waist and the other hand rested on her cheek go brush away her tears.

"Yer really pretty...prettiest girl I've ever seen." He murmured quietly as he pushed away her tears, his eyes were full of awe.

"Thank you, Jack..." She mumbled softly as she leant into his caring hand, "'m sorry I got upset...my parents passed away, that's why I'm here...just got scared, I should have told you I haven't ever been with a boy before..."

"It's okay, sugar...like I said, I've never neither...I'll help tidy you up and I'll go..." He mumbled softly as he leant closer to gently stroke her hair.

She shook her head softly and whispered, "Please stay...I'd like it if you did, you don't have to pay a single dollar...just, keep me company?" Her voice wavered slightly as she looked at him with desperate eyes.

"I...I...as long as yer sure," He mumbled softly as he gently wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

"Mhm...you're very kind, sweet even," She mumbled softly as she gently nestled her nose against his neck, "Are you a rancher?"

He chucked softly and nodded, "Taken over my Pa's ranch...Beecher's Hope...him and my Ma passed a while ago..." His voice was a soft whisper as his tone trembled slightly at the mention of his parents.

"Oh...I'm sorry for your loss," She murmured softly, her arms snaking around his neck as she drew him close. Her head nestled against his shoulder and her fingers gently toying with his hair.

"Thank you sugar...guess we have that in common," He mumbled gently against her hair before gently kissing the crown of her hair.

She sniffled softly and gently nuzzles her nose against his jaw, her fingers gently tugging on his hair softly. He whined softly and whispered, "That's nice, sugar...feels nice when you do that..." His cheeks still burning a deep crimson.

She gently iched his scalp and toyed with his locks to hear his soft noises and feel the way he urged her closer, unable to understand why he needed her impossibly close.

"Don't go..." He whispered as his voice trembled, as if he was finally letting someone in to comfort him.

"As long as you don't go..." She whispered back as she pressed a kiss to his scruffy jaw, her lips were like gentle angel kisses to his skin to fix the pasts scars and wounds.

"I...I don't want to leave you here," He murmured softly as he sniffled, "yer all I've ever dreamed of, please don't go...come with me, I'll look after yer I promise, good and proper...please darlin'..."

He rested his head in the crook of her neck and gently planted kisses there as if to persuade her to come back to Beechers Hope, he knew it was sudden and pathetic but christ did he want to keep her. She was like a stray kitten, and she was so similar to him. She had lost everything and everyone and needed loving, and so did he. He sure as shit wanted to love her, protect her, be a good man and hold her close and promise her the damn world.

"Jack...I'm awkward and homely...you'd tire of me so quickly...I've never had anything like this before...not sure what to do...I could barely kiss you without crying," She murmured softly as she sniffled and held back hiccups and tears.

"Shhh...yer shouldn't be selling yerself...yer so pretty and sweet...please even if it's until yer back on her feet, let me look after you..." He whispered as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, a desperate kiss that was clumsy and sloppy but loving and sweet. It felt as if looking after her and loving on her would heal him.

"Jack..." She mumbled softly as she turned to kiss him properly, messy yet tender. Their lips moved together and their tongues gently joined the dance, a tender moment between two hurting people.

Jack needed to care for someone, to pass on his parent's legacy and to feel loved. She needed to be cared for, to feel appreciated and to have a kind heart in her life.

His lips remained on hers as he pulled her to lay under him on the bed, no ill intentions on his part but just a need to be closer. She lay down without any complaints and pulled him closer as she kept her mouth locked onto his and her tongue against his, her fingers were slowly caressing his scruffy hair.

He slowly kissed down her jaw to her neck and whispered, "Just say yes...please, sugar...we'll get to know each other...I'll make sure yer safe...I'll feel so guilty if I leave yer here..."

She sobbed softly and whispered, "I want to...I want you to look after me, Jack..." He stopped kissing her neck and held her close and practically lay on top of her as she cried and he held her.

"Shhh...it's okay, just us yeah?" He whispered into her ear as he held her, "I’ll look after yer, get some sleep and we’ll pack yer up in the morning..”

He gently peppered her face in kisses and whispers, "Yer like an angel..." as he cuddles her gently, the poor boy was finally realising love and how overwhelming it was to feel so many emotions.

"You're like my knight in shining amour..." She murmured softly as she sniffled and clung to him tightly. He held her a little tighter and pressed his nose to her cheek.

"G'night, sugar..." He murmured softly as he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. He gently sniffled against her cheek and squeezed her gently as he felt sleep creeping in.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

It has probably been said before, but in It's a Wonderful Life, part of George's regret is a sense of guilt about what Mary could have had had she not married him; that she is in it because she loves him so much, and so she endures the life they have. And yet when we get to the reality where George never existed, Mary is a librarian. There's this contrast between the casinos and the cabarets and such (all exploitative and fraudulent ways of preying on desperate poor people) that populate Pottersville, and Mary, in this timeline, choosing the one job that remains a community oriented, free, helpful service. She married George because she loved him, yes, but also because his convictions about doing good for his community were also hers all along, and would have been even if he had not existed. She doesn't endure the life they have out of sheer abnegation, but embraces it out of conviction.

[m-archived]

to expand on john + loneliness: do you realize how lonely john had to be to do everything he did For millie? their affair is left so vague but i assume it went on for quite some time, and neither of them obviously stopped loving the other, but for millie to be able to move on in some measurable ways but john not at all — the way that those moments he shared with her, his desire to be with her and sarah, to be a family, drove him not only for the rest of his life but to twist his entire established worldview (religious and moral) to fit the narrative he wanted so badly. the idea of being able to be loved and love freely was so powerful and moving for him that he was willing to sacrifice everyone and everything to get it.

[mang0d0ll]

Bob's Lonely Hearts Club

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: bob's all alone on valentines day. but not for much longer.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1.6k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ includes: fluff, fem main character, negative self-talk, morale boosting, fem mc becomes bobs hype man, implied sex, mentions of alcohol and drinking, bob gets kinda tipsy, hangman is kind of a douchebag but whats new

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ a/n: this is my first full fic on tumblr!! YYYAAAAAYYYY im so excited that its here! this idea has been collecting dust in my brain and my notes app literally since tgm came out in 2022, but im just so proud of myself for actually writing this and putting it out in the world. enjoy <333333

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE REPOSTED OR FED INTO AI

Bob wouldn't really classify himself as a loner.

Sure he was quiet, preferring to take a back seat to the rambunctious chatter and lighthearted bickering the rest of his teammates were always up to, but they always included him in the conversation. Hangman particularly enjoyed ribbing him with jokes about his mouse-like demeanour, until Bob would throw some smack talk of his own, making the group erupt with laughter.

But tonight was different. It was Valentine's, and Bob was - by all accounts - a loner.

There were other patrons scattered across the Hard Deck, but nowhere near the regular amount on a typical Friday night.

He hadn't even realised the romantic holiday was coming up. It wasn't until a week prior when Fanboy hollered that he'd scored a date with someone he'd been chatting up on Bumble; his booming voice causing Bob’s pool cue to completely miss the ball.

From then on, it was all he heard from the Daggers. Payback had a dinner planned with his long-term partner, Rooster was going out with a woman he'd been casually seeing, and Coyote nonchalantly declared that he'd have no problem heading into town and picking up a cute chick on the day itself.

Hangman had let it slip that he and Phoenix were going to a drive-in cinema together, but any cheeky remarks from the rest of the team were left unsaid at the heat of Phoenix’s glare.

So there Bob was, sitting at the bar on Valentine's, nursing a drink and musing over everything he could've been doing instead. With the complexities and demands of his job, he'd rarely given much thought to his romantic life. Boy, was he regretting it.

His eyes bore into the random sports match playing on the bar’s TV, his brain only registering the vibrant colours and fast-paced movements.

"Hey, Bob."

A melodious voice broke him out of his daze. Behind the counter stood everyone's favourite, sweet-as-sugar Hard Deck employee. She gave him a small smile as she wiped down glasses and put them aside.

"Fancy seeing you here tonight. Thought you'd have somewhere more important to be."

His head tilted, like a curious puppy, making her giggle.

"Y'know, cause it's Valentine's?"

"Right!" Bob exclaimed. "Yeah, no, no plans. I don't have anywhere else to be, so..." His voice trailed off as her warm smile struck his soul. With sweaty palms, he raised his glass and took a swig of his drink.

"That's a surprise," she said.

"It is?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "I thought you'd have a cute date or something."

Bob's eyes widened and he quickly choked out a laugh, "Me? Oh, no, no I'm flattered but I'm not..." A wave of nausea rushed through his body - the words sticking to his throat. "I'm not really the ask-out-women type," he said as he stared into his glass. "Never been good at it."

And maybe it was the alcohol making him feel all fuzzy. Maybe it was the bar's dim lighting setting the mood. Or maybe it was the feeling of being almost alone with the attention of the stunning bartender-slash-waitress he maybe, sort of, definitely, had a crush on.

Something in the situation just made him feel... different. Trusting. Honest.

"I'm not confident like the rest of them," he confessed. "Hangman, Rooster, Coyote, they see someone they like and have no problem approaching them. Even if they didn't, there are plenty of people who come up and offer their numbers all the time. But I can't do that. Can't bring myself to talk to anybody like that. I'm not suave or charming like they are. Not cool or confident. I don't stand out in a crowd or attract any eyes from across the room. I'm just the guy in the background no one gives two cents about. Boring ol' Bob."

A silence hung between them, the static sports commentator voice floating through the air.

A tsunami of emotions whirled through him. On one hand, a weight had been lifted off him- a cathartic thrum in his chest at finally voicing the thoughts that'd tormented him for years. On the other hand, the admission of his feelings only made them more real and ever apparent to him. A dark cloud over his head, doomed to follow him.

"Excuse me?" she spat.

His head snapped up to find her eyes ablaze.

"Do you really think that?"

His mouth opened and closed like a fish but no words came out. Thankfully for him, she didn't give him time to reply.

"Bob, you’re an amazing person. You're kind, and sweet, and thoughtful. You're always there for others, helping them even when they don’t ask for it. You carry your friends out when they're too drunk to walk. You listen to them rant about their work and lives. And when you're here during closing you insist on helping us clean up; stacking the chairs and storing crates in the back. You’re this guardian angel looking out for everyone around you.

So what if you're not like Rooster or Hangman? Why would you wanna be anyone else anyways? You're an amazing person all on your own and you show it everyday."

Bob felt an overwhelming heat engulf his body. It was as though he'd stood at the entrance of an active volcano for a decade.

“You really think that?” he squeaked out.

“Yes! And if girls don't see that then screw them. Anyone with a functioning brain cell would be lucky to go out with you.”

Bob smiled shyly, "Well, I'm flattered-"

"I mean, you're literally a dream!" She continued, hands frantically wiping glasses and setting them down with a low thud. "Not only are you kindhearted but you're a dream to look at. It's honestly criminal how fit you are with your glasses making you look so cute, and kissable, and..."

Her voice trailed off as their eyes locked and she registered Bob's tomato-red face. Bob's heart pounded in his ears.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Bob wouldn't really classify himself as brave.

Sure he'd had a rare, unexpected surge of bravery when he joined the military - shocking everyone that knew him - but everything that came after was simply part of the job. Each day of suffering through grueling training to become a WSO had nothing to do with his bravery, but rather his tenacity and determination to show everyone what he could accomplish. What he was made of.

Buf in this moment, a rare moment in his life, Bob chose to be brave.

"What time do you get off from work?" he asked.

"Soon. In about an hour."

"And... do you have any plans after?"

"I was just gonna go home," she blushed, a smile painting across her face. "But you're most welcome to come with me."

"So Bob, how was your Valentine's?"

The Dagger Squad's chatter quieted down at Hangman's sudden question. The sounds of the Hard Deck filling the silence between them.

"It was good," Bob replied, leaning against a pillar and doing his best to act casual.

"Really? Get up to anything fun?"

"Stop it," Phoenix chided.

"What? I'm just asking," Hangman laughed, gliding about the pool table and lining up his shot as if he wasn't interrogating his teammate. "Wanna know if Baby-on-Board spent the night alone like I said he would."

The crack of his cue against the ball came as a comical sound effect to the shock everyone was smacked in the face with. Phoenix shook her head in disbelief and mouthed a 'sorry' to her WSO, which he waved off with an understanding smile.

"Well Hangman, since you're so desperate to know, I came here on Valentine's. And while I did start out alone, I ended up going home with someone."

Everyone's heads whipped towards him.

"No shit. Seriously?" Hangman chuckled. "Who is she? Who had the honour of being our Bobby's companion. Is she even real?"

It was at this time that she walked over to them, empty tray in hand. The woman who'd occupied Bob's head 24/7 ever since the night they shared together a week prior. The woman he'd confided in and poured his heart out to. The woman who held him and kissed his doubts away all night long. Her lips soft against his smooth skin, the heat of her body melded against his.

She moved with grace as she motioned for the team's empty glasses and bottles, everyone giving her polite smiles as she passed. Bob allowed his eyes to trail after her before turning his attention back to Hangman.

"I can assure you she is very real. She's an amazing woman, full of kindness and love. Adorable to boot. Honestly, I'm over the freaking moon that she even wants my company."

Their eyes met as she got closer to Bob, still pretending to be completely unaffected by the conversation at hand. Picking up the last empty bottle, she began to walk pass Bob to get back to the kitchen.

"And I'm most definitely taking her home with me tonight," Bob declared. Just as she passed, Bob raised his hand and let it fall with a swift smack! to her behind.

Jumping back in shock with a loud yelp, she turned to Bob, ready to tell him off, only to be met with his cheeky smirk and smitten eyes.

She huffed and glared at him, though there was no real heat behind her eyes. "We're leaving as soon as my shift is over."

"Yes ma'am," Bob smiled.

She scurried away as she failed to suppress the smile growing on her face.

He stared at her retreating figure unashamedly as the rest of the Daggers began whooping and hollering.

"Dude! No way!"

"How'd you pull her? What did you say?"

"My man! Knew you had that dog in ya!"

Their words fell on Bob's deaf ears, his head preoccupied with counting down to when he could finally leave with the woman of his dreams.

[lina-lovebug]

Sharkboy and his Shadow

Percy Jackson x fem! reader

Background: reader is the only child of Nyx, and has grown up with Percy. After being claimed, lots of kids are afraid of her, and reader feels alone. To 'help' Percy see the error of his ways, Luke and Annabeth come up with a plan.

_ _ _

"(Y/N) (L/N), daughter of Nyx, the Personification of Night, and Queen of Tartarus."

Ever since that day, (Y/N) had never felt so alone.

She grew up with Percy, always being by his side, and she felt lucky enough to see him be claimed by Poseidon. She was happy for him, and understood his rage at the same time.

But when she was claimed? There were no kids staring in awe or clapping or congratulations. There were only whispers amongst them, and stares of horror.

Because no one ever thought that Nyx would have a half-blood child.

She's Nyx. She keeps to herself, away from the affairs of Olympus and mortals.

So no one wanted to make friends with the forbidden girl.

Luke was still friendly, but it became obvious that he wasn't interested in being friends like before. Annabeth, however, still stayed by her side. She was the only one to congratulated her, and decided to explain to (Y/N) what this means now.

Not only was being a child of The Big Three forbidden, but being a daughter of Nyx? That meant more danger for everyone, and she'd become the main target for any monster who wanted her dead.

And to top it all off, she thinks Percy is avoiding her.

She hadn't seen him since she'd been claimed. She had seen him briefly during most days, but when she'd look and see him staring, he'd quickly move his gaze to the ground or the sky.

"If I thought that being a half-blood was so lonely, I'd never have come."

Annabeth felt bad for the girl, "it's not a choice, (Y/N). Nyx chose your dad for a reason."

"And yet all she's sent me is a fucking knife!"

(Y/N) yelled as she threw the dagger her mother sent her into the fire. Annabeth gasped, quickly retrieving the dagger with a stick.

The black dagger hadn't been damaged.

Before Annabeth could lecture the girl on damaging gifts from your Godly parent, she saw the tears in her eyes.

(Y/N) was angry. She'd been so angry that she started sobbing, sinking to the floor of her own empty cabin. Annabeth held her.

"I miss my dad," She sobbed, hiccuping, "I'm so alone. . .I miss Percy."

"Seaweed brain," Annabeth cursed.

Annabeth knew why Percy had been avoiding her.

Because he liked her.

Percy confessed this to Annabeth. He said he knew how important being claimed was to her. How she'd be the most sought after half-blood now.

And feared endangering her if he stayed too close.

"Tell you what?" Annabeth pulled away, "tomorrow, we'll have a girls night. I'll take you to Aphrodite cabin, and Silena will do your hair and dress you up."

She sniffled, "I doubt any of those girls want me there."

Oh, Aphrodite girls were secretly cheering (Y/N) on. They knew the consequences of having a powerful female figure in your life, but one that chose to never be present much.

"Silena does, and whatever she wants, the girls will follow."

(Y/N) didn't get much sleep that night, tears coming and going, and she only managed to find sleep when she thought of how Percy used to hold her. When they'd have sleepovers and she'd have a nightmare, Percy would always hold her until they fell asleep.

That's why she thought she was holding herself.

But her eyes deceive her.

With wide eyes, she jumped up but her head banged into the top bunk. The mystery boy awoke, asking if the girl was okay.

"Luke?! When did you-?! How?!"

"You're bleeding, (Y/N)," Luke ignored her sudden panic, helping the daughter of Nyx up. She checked her head and found some blood.

"What the fuck. . ."

Luke quickly dragged her to the infirmary, but not without notice. The few half bloods that were awake gasped, seeing Luke Castellan leaving the Nyx Cabin with (Y/N) in his arms.

And so did Percy.

"Hey, hey! What happened?" Percy called after them, catching up but hearing Percys' sudden urgency made her want to cry. He's been avoiding her for two weeks, but now he's worried?

"Put your hand on my shoulder," Luke whispered to her, and she gave him a look of confusion.

"Just do it, pretty girl," With an awkward blush, she nodded and, as a result, pushed herself closer into his chest.

"She hit her head. She'll be fine, go tell Chiron," Luke dismissed, leaving Percy with more questions than he had answers.

Why was Luke in her cabin? When did he get there? Why were you hurt?

Did he spend the night?

That last thought made the son of poseidon wish he hadn't been avoiding you all this time. It made him angry with himself that he let Luke become interested in you.

"So why were you in my room, Luke?" (Y/N) asked, holding an ice pack on her throbbing head.

"I left early this morning to check on you, and I know that Percy wanted to do that this morning. So, I figured that sharkboy might get a little jealous if he saw me in your bed," He explained with a shrug.

"Jealous?" She questioned with a scoff, "he's been avoiding me like the plague since I've been claimed."

"Did you think that because you've been claimed that he's avoiding you, or that he's avoiding you because he's scared he'll attract more monsters to you?"

"Luke, I don't have time-"

He cut her off, "it's bad enough that Percy got claimed the second day he got here. He's a forbidden child. Now, the girl he's been crushing on since diapers is the number one target of every monster out there."

"He. . .he doesn't like me like that," I said, feeling my face heat up.

Luke quirked his brow, "that's seriously what you got out of that?"

Despite her frustration and anger towards Percy, she could never despise him so much that her feelings would fade. She still cared about him and ultimately feared that her feelings couldn't be reciprocated.

"Look, if he doesn't seem interested or even the slightest bit jealous, I'll let you know," Luke knew Percy well.

In fact, Luke endured countless hours of listening to how Percy adored (Y/N). How Percy first realized that she wasn't just his best friend, or at least that's not what he wanted her to be. He wanted to be the one she sought out each morning - be the one she could lean on. As capable as she was, he still wanted to help her as much as he could.

He'd lift the entire weight of this off her shoulders if she asked.

(Y/N) had the beauty of the stars and Percy could spend the rest of his life happily staring at her.

"Okay," She nodded.

_ _ _

"Wait, I have two different outfits?"

"Of course!" Silena expressed, bringing out the second one, "this one is for our picnic tonight."

It was a gorgeous white dress that sagged off the shoulders, flowy and the top decorated with several types of flowers.

"Oh, okay," (Y/N) nodded, completely unaware that there would be no girls' night.

Just a really good plan to help force these desperate lovebirds together.

"If this doesn't get him staring, then he's blind," Silena concluded before popping on some lip gloss onto the daughter of Nyx. She could admit, she looked very pretty but her stomach became a bundle of nerves when thinking about how Percy may either ignore her and or she'd finally unblind herself to the longing looks of the son of Poseidon.

She walked out of Aphrodite cabin right as lunchtime came, and she received multiple stares as she made her way.

"How's your day been?" Luke came up behind her, swinging his arm around her shoulders.

"Honestly I still think you're crazy," She confessed, "Percy doesn't-"

He pecked her cheek without warning before whispering, "Look ahead".

And she has never seen Percy look so angry.

He clenched his tray with the fury of a God, denting it even as she looked at him. He quickly looked away, retreating back to his cabin.

Oh my God's. . .

"Percy likes me."

"Now, tonight-where are you going?!" Luke shouted as she chased after him.

She flung the door open to see his sea blue eyes filled with tears. "Oh Percy."

"I'm sorry I haven't talked to you," He immediately confessed, walking towards her, "I would never be scared of you. I'm scared of what my presence will bring to us. I'm already a target, and I didn't want to risk your safety. But I let Luke get close enough to. . ." He stared into her eyes, "I've liked you since we were eight, and I'm sorry I let my thoughts get ahead of my feelings."

"It wasn't my idea," She couldn't stand to see her sweet boy cry, "Annabeth wanted to make you jealous, make you regret ignoring me, but I didn't believe that you liked me. I never thought that you saw me as anything more than a friend."

(Y/N) grabbed his hands, "I like you, Percy. Gods, I've liked you since the first time you shared your mom's cookies with me. You're so kind, you're selfish beyond any God, and you're the sweetest. I was scared that my mother being Nyx might have pushed you away."

His hand came up to her face, "not even the Gods above could separate the two of us."

His eyes glanced between her eyes and lips, hesitating.

"Kiss me, Percy Jackson."

And he did.

The kiss was something out of a movie. She could feel the amount of love he had for her, one hand remaining on her cheek while the other held her hand. She leaned into him, and he seemed to chase her lips as she pulled away for air.

"Not everyone can breathe underwater," She reminded him with a smile.

"I think we might lose a friend tonight," Percy said, and (Y/N) frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Luke put his lips on my girl. I'll provoke single combat," He pulled out riptide, and her eyes widened.

He gave her a quick kiss on her lips, "if you don't see me tonight, I'm drowning him."

"Percy!" He ignored her calls as he ran outside, running straight towards Luke, who laughed before realizing that Percy wasn't stopping and started running too.

"Is that Percy?" Grover asked as she walked outside, hearing the shouts coming from the forest of Luke trying to calm down Percy.

"Yup. Call Chiron, he might water board Luke."

But after Chiron managed to stop Percy, they spent the rest of the night in his cabin exchanging kisses and unexpectedly receiving a gift from her mother.

"What's this?" She questioned as the owl flew off, the small package being addressed to both Percy and her.

"From your mom, it looks like," He opened it up, and a necklace with a Triton pendant fell out. Just as he picked it up, it transformed into a black Triton that was covered in black shadows.

"Holy shit!" Percy breathed out as (Y/N) grabbed the note that fell out.

"Oh Gods," seeing her reaction, he bent down and read the note.

"Oh," He observed the Triton, "well. . .at least we know she cares."

Break my daughters heart and I'll kill you with that very Triton,

From your mother, Nyx.

[ashwhowrites]

Can you do angst # 26 a bit of a longer fic where Eddie and reader have been married for a couple years and as the years go on the reader starts to feel neglected in their relationship because of him prioritizing his band (or any job you write in). She comes to a breaking point after he overhears a convo on the phone that she has with a coworker and gets jealous, and they get into a fight where she says he's not the person she married or how she feels alone in their relationship. You can decide the end ( if eddie redeems himself or this could be the end of them)

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting ❤️

A new you

“You’re not the same person I married, don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

The dream was for Eddie's career to take off after they got married. Y/N wanted to get married and try for kids before he had to pack up and travel around the world. Everything was going perfectly in the beginning, they were happy and constantly trying for a baby.

But once the band got their name in the stars, Y/N realized her and their marriage got set on the back burner. Eddie spent all his hours in the studio, or at home in his music room as the door was closed. And when the door was closed, that meant Y/N couldn't disturb him.

At first, she didn't want to do anything about it. It was new and exciting and she understood it took a lot of Eddie's time and energy. But months turned into years and now they sat in a marriage that felt like roommates. She missed her husband, she missed his time, his touch and him.

She was hurt she got pushed aside and it hurt even more that they hadn't tried for a baby in months. He has been so caught up with the band that he barely was home, and when he was, it was to drop in bed and be gone by morning. She missed the way their relationship used to be. Back when he looked at her with love and wanted to be with her. Now it seemed he could care less about her.

She tried to talk to him about it but it was nearly impossible. She was at the break of giving up. The thought of leaving him behind and moving on. It was clear he didn't have any mind to save the marriage. Hell, he probably didn't notice it was drowning to begin with. The longer it went on, the more lonely she felt.

"Hey, Eddie?" She whispered, his body next to hers as they lay separately in the bed.

"Hm?" He mumbled, half asleep as his head was buried in the pillows.

"Can you take some time off from the band? Maybe a weekend and we can go off somewhere together?" She asked, rolling over to face him. His eyes weren't open, but the lack of snores told her he was still awake.

"Sure, honey. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

She wasn't shocked that the conversation never happened. It was like he lived a whole different world on his side of the bed. She was close enough to touch him, yet she almost felt like it wasn't her place. She hated that she felt conflicted about wanting to kiss or touch her husband. But anytime she tried, it ended with him pushing her off and her feeling stupid for trying.

She was stuck in a one-sided relationship and she had no idea what to do.

~~~

"I'm going to grab dinner tonight with a co-worker so I might not be home when you are," she explained as she dressed herself. Eddie hummed from the bathroom, spitting out his toothpaste as he half-listened.

"Would you like me to bring you back something?" She asked, walking into the bathroom. She admired how he looked as he brushed his teeth. His messy hair and shirtless chest. She bit her lip as she slowly walked closer to him, the desire to be touched by him was increasing.

"No, I'll send someone to grab something," he shrugged, barely noticing her body as he walked past her and out of the bathroom.

"Or I could bring something to you before I go? We aren't going until like seven," she offered, following behind him. "Maybe give us a chance to talk?"

Eddie threw on his jeans as he looked at her, confused. "Why would you do that?"

She sighed as she tried to remain calm. "Because I'm your wife, Eddie. I'd like to have time with you."

"Look I don't have time for this conversation again. If you stop by, cool. If you don't, that's cool too. But I have to go. Have fun at dinner."

Without a kiss, he went right out the door.

~

Y/N held her stomach as she tried not to fall out of her chair laughing. Her insides were all clenched as she gasped for air.

"I truly didn't think I was that funny," Logan laughed as he watched her dry her tears.

She calmed herself down, wiping the tears that leaked as she took a big sigh. As the laughter died, she realized how good it felt. She hadn't laughed in what felt like forever. Eddie was the funniest person she'd ever met, but she couldn't remember the last time he cared to make her crack a smile. The thought changed her mood slightly, Logan fast to pick up on it.

"You okay?" He asked, sipping on his glass of wine as she prepared to lie. But she wanted to say it, she needed to clear her brain and maybe she'll sleep better at night.

Within seconds she was spiraling. Telling Logan all about her marriage. How it started so beautifully and how she wished she could do anything to get it back.

Even when he treated her like she was nothing, she wished it was him sitting across from her.

~

She sighed as she walked into the quiet house. Eddie's car was nowhere in the driveway. She was tempted to drive herself to the studio but she knew that would do nothing in her favor. She climbed into the empty bed, trying to blink away the tears as she fell asleep.

~~~

After dinner with Logan, he asked her to go a few more times. They exchanged their numbers and she spent most of her time talking to him as she waited all night for Eddie to come home. She appreciated having a friend.

~

"Friday? I mean I should be free. What did you want to do?" Y/N asked, phone against her ear as she scrubbed the dishes.

Eddie slipped into the house, checking his watch as he set down his guitar case. Another late night, he planned to go straight to bed but he heard talking and movement from the kitchen. He was surprised Y/N was still awake.

"I mean, that restaurant is beautiful, and I've always wanted to go. But isn't it a bit romantic?" She asked

Eddie's ears perked up, close enough to hear a man speaking on the other line.

"So? I think you deserve a little romance in your life."

Before Y/N had the chance to say something, or acknowledge Eddie's presence, Eddie was grabbing the phone and hanging it up.

"Edward!" Y/N scolded, reaching for her phone but Eddie shoved it in his back pocket.

"Who the fuck was that?" He asked, clearly fuming.

"Logan, from work," Y/N answered

"Why is Logan wanting to take you out? Uh? Doesn't he know you're married?"

Y/N couldn't help but scuff. "He does, do you?"

"What does that mean?" Eddie asked

"Maybe if you made time to talk to me, you'd understand," she said as she brushed past him. But he was right about her tail. Crazy how he suddenly was wide awake and interested in her.

"Talking right now aren't we?"

Y/N began to angrily make the bed. "No, now it's an argument. You have been ignoring me, abandoning me for that stupid band. I made a friend, it's not my fault he happens to be interested in hanging out with me. Why would I say no? So I can enjoy another lonely night on the couch wondering why my husband hates me?" She took a deep breath as she tried to remain calm.

"Oh don't be dramatic, hate you? Of course, I don't hate you!" Eddie fought, "and you have other friends! Don't you think it's inappropriate for him to ask you somewhere romantic?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, smacking the pillows down. "So yeah, it might be a little inappropriate. Would I let it go somewhere inappropriate? Absolutely not. But maybe this is the wake-up call you need. Because Eddie, the way we are going, I don't want that for my future."

"You don't want me in your future?" Eddie asked, slightly hurt as she sat on the bed.

"I do! But the old Eddie. You’re not the same person I married, and don’t tell me I’m wrong. You are completely different and I'm unhappy," Y/N explained. She looked down at the ring on her finger, "We were supposed to make a family, Eddie."

Eddie felt his anger melting away as she held herself. "We can still have a family, baby." He said softly as he walked over.

"Don't bother lying to me because I'm so close to being done," Y/N bitterly laughed. She ignored his body as he sat across from her, placing a hand on her knees.

"I'm not lying! But you knew this was the dream when we got married."

"FUCK THE DREAM, EDDIE!" She yelled as she stood up. "You have been living the dream for years. What about mine? What about the kids and the big house? You knew my dream when we got married! But mine is not as important? You're different and I hate it."

"Oh, so you hate who I am?" Eddie scoffed, standing up. "I didn't purposely ignore your dream; it's just mine. I was on the tracks and already going. I'm sorry I got caught up in it. I'm guilty of that."

"Yes I do, Eddie!" She spat, staring into his darkening eyes, "I hate this version of you. I want my husband back. The guy who loved me and couldn't breathe without me. You used to love me like crazy, we were never apart. You used to take care of me, hold my hand, and open every door. I used to feel so fixed in your arms, Eddie," she cried, "now? This is the longest we've seen each other in months. Are you seeing someone? Or did you just wake up one day and decide you hated your life with me?"

"Someone else? You really think I'm seeing someone else?" Eddie scoffed, "I'd never do that and I can't believe you think I would. And especially after your new friend asked you on a fucking date!"

"What am I supposed to think? We haven't had sex in months! What happened? We used to have no issues with intimacy. And now we have nothing. Are you not attracted to me anymore? Is that the problem?"

"You're supposed to think I'm loyal and that I'm exactly where I said I would be. I've been at the studio working my ass off. So I'm tired when I come home. I still think you are the most gorgeous woman I've seen, but I'm exhausted when I come home, and I don't want sex."

"What's the point of a marriage if you only care to be at the studio? Hell, move out and live in the damn fucking place." She spat, "I'm done being pushed aside. I'm not going to put effort into a relationship with you when you don't even care to be in it." She cried.

Eddie tried to blink away his own tears as he watched her cry. "So do you want a divorce? Because I don't. It's clear I've fucked up, and I need to work on many things, but in no way do I want to let you go," He asked, his voice cracking as the reality of the question made his insides clench. He hated himself for getting to this point. All he had to do was love her the way she deserved.

"I don't want to leave, and I don't want you to leave. But I need you to be that way again. Please just love me like you used to," she sobbed. Eddie couldn't stop the silent tears that fell down his face as he stood and pulled her into his arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he cried, "I don't want either of us to leave, baby. I love you, so fucking much," he kissed her head. "I'm going to fix this. I'm going to put you and this marriage first. The exact way it should be."

"Can we talk about it in the morning? I just want to sleep next to you," she cried. Eddie softly moved them to the bed, wrapping his arms around her.

She melted into his arms, enjoying the feeling that she hadn't felt in so long. She wasn't sure what tomorrow would bring. If he'd wake up a changed man or wake up the same. She wasn't sure if her marriage was being saved or going under. But right now she felt at home in his arms and that's what she needed for the night.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

[cherie-doll]

I love the father headcanons, can we see one where our munchkins are Lil older and they start wanting a brother/sister 🥺?

spinning at the thought of this <3

ଘ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

ʚɞ Price...

he's content with the one kid you two have right now, he knew this was your first and going into parenthood hadn't been a completely smooth journey but you had learned to enjoy the ups and deal with the downs of it

however a thought did start reeling when your son asked why he didn't have a baby sister, he saw how his grade school friend had a baby sister and seeing her cute chubby cheeks that looked so squeezable and hearing her gurgles and toothless smile made him want a sibling

i can just see price turning to him and saying "you're asking for one as if it was a pet", implying that a sibling was another human not some dog or cat you could just have around, but you actually liked the idea of another kid, you had observed how lonely your son would be on weekends when he wasn't at school

price had assumed you wouldn't want another one until later that night he comes back from tucking the kid in bed and he settles in bed with a groan and finds you immediately turning to him, laying your head on his chest and saying you want a girl

ʚɞ Ghost...

you two had been living apart for some time now, he came by when he could to take your daughter to his house and care for her and then bring her back and so on, he was a responsible father and cooperated in taking care of all her needs with you

on weekends he usually took you both out to eat and this was one of those times, your daughter had been unusually quiet during the meal when she stared around to settle her eyes on Simon then you

"i want a baby sister...or brother" she said firmly in her little voice, the clattering of the eating utensils stopped as both you and Simon turned to her in surprise

"where'd this come from..." you mumbled, not meeting Simon's eyes as he seemed to actually be considering this, he had been wanting to mention maybe moving back into the house with you and living together but he hadn't known how to speak about the subject, but to him, this was the perfect opportunity

"that's not a bad idea" his response made your head snap back up and your eyes met his, his gaze wasn't playful but rather serious, so he wasn't joking...

he definitely felt like you drifting away and although he was aware a new kid wasn't going to repair it, it certainly didn't mean your relationship was in shambles either, he seriously did discuss it as a possibility after dinner when he was alone with you

and could you turn him down, honestly?

ʚɞ Soap...

you, personally, haven't brought the topic up to him because you want to see if he'll ask you yourself, at some point he will but... when? well, the seedling you thought was slowly growing in his mind full on sprouted when your son stopped playing one afternoon and turned to you both saying he wanted a brother

johnny turned to you too, his eyes hopeful about your reaction, he didn't mind if it was another boy or if you'd be lucky and have a girl, he just wanted another kid, memories of how he used to dress his son in the cutest baby onesies when he was a few months old came back

he still had them just in case and was ready to buy more, neither of you knew this but your son expected a kid his age to come out of you, he forgot he'd have to wait some time before he's able to play with his sibling, the kid really just wanted someone to play with and cause mischief

ʚɞ Gaz...

urhgurhu he's so new father coded idk how to explain it

it's endearing seeing how gentle he is with your daughter; the first time he held her at the hospital he was too scared to take her from the nurse's extended arms, he had to take a seat and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans

he sorta panicked when she was handed to him and he quickly looked up to ask the nurse how to hold her correctly, he didn't want to hurt her little neck, especially when she seemed so fragile, silently, he admired his little girl and almost cried right then and there

you saw how his eyes softened so much and they glossed over with tears just wanting to spill, it was such an emotional moment for him; he finally had a family to take care of

and now she was five whole years, he could hardly believe it, when her birthday rolled around and he asked her what she wanted, she looked up at him with her big, bright cherub eyes and said she wanted a sister

and how could he deny her that? he begged you to give him another child, he didn't want to disappoint his little girl, it was her birthday wish and he wanted to see them grow up together

ʚɞ Roach...

he would 'subtly' imply that he wanted another one, things like leaving around some of your daughter's clothes from when she was a newborn, "that won't fit her..." you point out, the size difference being very obvious yet he acts clueless, he's trying to say that there should be another baby to dress in these clothes!

your kid has just learned how to talk yet he's attempting to teach her to ask for a sibling when she's perfectly fine being the only child for now, maybe she's going to want one in the future or she'll regret not having someone to play with when she was younger

you'll be preparing dinner and he'll walk in holding your four-year-old and saying something like "she learned a new phrase!" and she mumbles it because she doesn't even know what she's saying but don't worry! he's already translating for you

ʚɞ Alejandro...

he loved his daughter, the way she had inherited most of your features with his complementing her and how she was his little angel, she was such a sweet child how could he NOT want another one?

"another one, just like her... just think about it" and he even got your daughter to ask you with her own little spin on the question, she knew how to get things, she would twirl and fidget with her princess dress, shyly asking with the little spark in her eye and the small smile she knew got her almost every toy and candy she asked for

it was impossible to go an entire day without hearing it from one of them, the problem was that they both were asking for another girl, what is instead of that you got a boy? and you knew just how that could turn out, he was likely to inherit alejandro's personality and you had heard it firsthand from alejandro's mother how he was like as a boy

you could already see how hyper the kid would turn out to be, you really did want a son but seeing how alejandro spoiled your daughter... you were reasonably worried how your son would turn out

ʚɞ Rudy...

he's so in love with raising his kid rn he hasn't ever thought about having another one, says he wants to focus on the one you have right now because he's devoted like that, but what about when his kid starts going off about wanting a sibling? a little baby would surely be exciting

he's worried that your child doesn't fully understand the responsibility that comes with a newborn, he dedicates so much time to your child that he's worried they would get jealous when their sibling is born, it's not that he's completely closed off to the idea of another child, but maybe when this one is a little older?

he's had to hold himself back from saying something about another kid when he stares at the baby shoes in the glass display when you go to the mall, he should be content with the child you have in your care

he also thinks about whether you're ready for another one yet, after all it is very hard and he's so considerate he wouldn't want to make you feel pressured about it

ʚɞ Phillip Graves...

he's been wanting another kid for a LONG time now, ever since he was there to hold your firstborn and see their tiny eyes open and meet his for the first time

he just loves the idea of having kids with you, he believes you are his biggest blessing he's ever received on this cake of earth and now he understands the blissful joy and simplicity his forebears relished in

his job is now second when it used to be the first priority in his life, money and riches don't matter as long as you're by his side and happy, of course he does love providing lavish things for you but he wouldn't enjoy it if he didn't have you to spoil

i could see him having a little bit of a breeding kink but he's also just a great father, your hormones be acting up when you see him shirtless and with a dad bod ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

but srs, he once asked his kid if he ever wanted a sibling because he'd been thinking about asking you for another child and when the little booger said yes he sent him to tell you

like your kid just going up to you saying he wanted a baby brother or sister and phillip just so happens to walk by and gives you a wink along w/ a sly smile

ʚɞ Makarov...

"sure, why not" his quick response without even so much as batting an eye at the question his son asked, it was as if it were only a simple request, as easy as if the kid had asked for candy, your son smiled, delighted he was going to have a sibling and ran off

you scoffed, "and you didn't even ask me?" and Makarov only gave you a glance before going back to eating the meal before him, he chewed for a good minute, leaving you with no other choice but to sit impatiently waiting for his answer

he chewed slowly, swallowing only when the bits of food had been ground down into almost nothing and then swallowing that, "what should we name this one?" he asked a little too nonchalantly for your liking, he went on to what features this child would inherent, the possibility of it being a boy or a girl and you're just sitting there confused and "wait just a minute now"

ofc later he does ask if you want to try for the second child, in his mind it's likely he already has a name for them and all but he wouldn't force you to have another kid if you were hesitant about it

he's great at sugarcoating things and sweetening you up with honeyed words in your ear so it's easy for you to say yes in the moment

ʚɞ Keegan...

he was probably just trying to unwind after a long day when your kid brought that up, the both of you exchanged worried glances as you had agreed on not having anymore kids, he actually wasn't sure whether he ever even wanted kids but after becoming a father he quite enjoyed it, it wasn't as hard as it was expected because your kid was surprisingly calm

so he did let the thought linger in his mind, thinking maybe a second one wouldn't be THAT bad of an idea but then what if this second kid wasn't what neither of you expected? he didn't like difficult kids, he's seen how some parents struggle with their kids and they look so damn tired

he thinks about getting the kid a pet, that would distract him from wanting a sibling, right? well, turns out that only works temporarily, he's then hearing from his kid how the dog doesn't know how to play with their toys, that the dog won't sit still and watch tv with them

now keegan really is second guessing his previous decision...

ʚɞ König...

könig always gets so flustered when people ask if he ever thought of having another kid, he doesn't know how to answer that question because neither of you had ever discussed it before, before you two had even had your first kid he had been too nervous to talk about the possibility of having children

he didn't want to say whether or not he wanted children because what if you didn't and that was a huge determining factor for you? but you remember the first time you asked him and he had softly said yes, more than anything he wanted at least one, especially after you two were living together it was all he could think of

so he thought about how to tell you he wanted another one because he had said previously that he was fine with only one, but he's sort of thankful it was his daughter that brought it up first, she was already seven and now that she felt a little older and definitely wanted a sibling

she didn't care whether it was a baby brother or sister and frankly, neither did könig, he just wanted another kid and heck he'd even be willing to become a stay at home father

ʚɞ Horangi...

you didn't expect your daughter to ask for a sibling since horangi always made time to play games and spend time with her, you'd think she wouldn't want one because she might get jealous of not having her dad focus on only her

but surprisingly she did, you sort of expected horangi to ask for another kid because eventually your daughter would grow up and well, naturally spend more time alone or with friends instead so he'd miss that, right?

well, you compromised and soon enough there was a baby boy born, except he was not at all what your daughter or horangi had been expecting, in reality, your daughter wanted a playmate to incorporate in their games and with time it was obvious your son was more of the quiet type

he wasn't much for playing games and often was content with being in your arms while you read and listened to music

ʚɞ Nikto...

nikto didn't know he had it in him to even raise kids until you had your first baby, it's like he unlocked a part of himself he didn't know he had, overnight he had become so nurturing and he didn't know how to feel about another kid

exploring the thought of how many kids you two could handle made him feel unsure when his son came up to him with a picture he had drawn in school, at first nikto hadn't paid much attention to what the scrawly figures on the papers were until his son asked what he thought of it

nikto only said it was a very nice picture and his son beamed, a huge smile on his face, "so you agree?", "with what?" nikto was confused, "having another baby!", and nikto almost fell out of his chair

nikto didn't really give a reply and dismissed the kid who was too happy to care about what his father's answer had been, maybe nikto should talk to you about this...

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask

Chapter One

Neither of them want to get married. Its a marriage of convenience, not of love. They can find it in themselves to love each other, but life has other things in mind.

Mafia!au

Chapter Two

"Check," said Y/N as her Queen took his Knight. He had no moves himself, none that would win the game for him. In one more move Y/N could take his King, winning the game.

Lando stared at his sister, annoyance and amusement written on his face. "How did you get so good at chess?" He asked and leaned back in his chair. There was no point making his next move, not when she was going to win anyway.

With a smirk on her face, Y/N made that final, winning move. "I played a lot with my mum while you were off with dad."

Off doing unspeakable things.

While Y/N and Lando had the same father, they didn't share a mother. Landos mother had died when he was young. Nasty business really. He and his dad were alone until Y/Ns mother came along.

Landos dad and Y/Ns mother weren't meant to fall in love. It just sort of... happened. She gave the Norris boys so much love while being ruthless with their men. She fell into place in their world and, before she knew it, she was the heavily pregnant Mrs Norris.

A lot of people didn't realise Y/N and Lando were only half siblings. Some didn't realise they were related at all.

After having a baby girl, Mr Norris wanted to keep her away from their world. He already had Lando set up to take over from him, as head of the Norris family, working for the Hamiltons. But Y/N wasn't supposed to be involved.

"How is dad?" Asked Y/N as she packed away the chess set. Y/N hadn't seen her father in near two weeks. His health was deteriorating and he spent all of his time and energy working. Lando would be taking over as head of the Norris family but it was only once his body was in the ground. That was going to be any day now.

Lando cleared his throat and turned towards the window. "Don't be surprised if he calls you into his room any day now," he answered.

Oh. That wasn't good news. Y/N placed the wooden chess set back on the desk that used to belong to her mother and turned back towards her brother. "You have your first meeting with Mr Hamilton, don't you?" She asked, nervously chewing at her nails.

Lando narrowed his eyes towards her. "You've been listening in, haven't you?"

"Only sometimes," Y/N answered, sitting in her mothers chair. Sometimes she'd be there for hours, sitting behind the desk, pretending she was as involved in the Norris Family as her mother once was. They were big shoes to fill. “I could go with you, you know?”

“No!” Lando shouted, slamming his fist down onto the table in front of him.

Y/N jumped back. This was what her brother had been bred and raised for. Already he was ruthless and calculating, every bit the man their father had been trying to turn him into. “Dad wouldn’t allow it and neither will I,” he spat and stood from his chair.

Lando was already dressed in one of his best suits. He had attended several meetings with Mr Hamilton before, but none without his father. This was his first. He wasn’t yet head of the family, but he was going to act like it. At these meetings he was used to being seen and not heard, but this was his first time speaking. It was on behalf of his father, yes, but the words were still coming from Lando.

He marched out of the study, leaving Y/N there. He didn’t apologise for being harsh; it was the only way to keep her safe.

Y/N watched her brother go. As soon as he was gone, Y/N began trying to pull open the desk drawers. They were locked, had been ever since her mother had died. But she was desperate for some way to be close to her mother; it was lonely in a crime family when you couldn’t be involved with the crime.

When she couldn’t get into the desk, she stood and walked out of the room.

The halls were full of portraits. Members of the Norris family that had since passed on. there were family portraits, too. One of little Lando with his mother and his father and one of Lando, Y/N and their parents. Further down the hall there was a portrait of Lando’s mother and another of Y/N’s mother. Mr Norris loved both of his wives equally, that was clear to anyone.

Two men stood on either side of Y/N’s door. They were silent, unspeaking. The guns Y/N knew they had on them were saying enough. She walked past them, giving just a curt nod and pushed the door shut behind her.

Just because she wasn’t a part of the crime family didn’t mean her father didn’t want her protected. There were men outside of her door and men under her window. There were at least two at every entrance; nothing came in or out of the house without them knowing.

She sat on her bed and looked towards her window. Normal girls could go out and spend time with their friends. They could go out and get dinner, sit at a bar with a cocktail in hand. They could go out to the club and dance the night away. But not Y/N. She had to sit in her room and dream of a life she could never have.

There was a polite knock on her door before it opened. Oscar Piastri, a young man on loan from Mark Webber in Australia, popped his head around.

“You okay?” He asked her.

When she nodded, he strode into the room and sat on the bed beside her. Her best friend, the only person allowed to be this informal with her. If any of the other men tried, Lando would have shot them where they stood.

She shook her head. “Come on,” Oscar said and laid back, knitting his hands together over his stomach. “Talk to me.”

So, she did.

***

Lando was in the big leagues now. When he was a boy he used to sit on the side lines, taking notes for his father. But now he was up at the table with the other heads of house. Charles Leclerc of Monaco, Carlos Sainz Sr, one of the heads of family from Spain. There was Sergio Perez from Mexico, Jos Verstappen from the Netherlands and more.

At the head of the table was Lewis Hamilton. He ran everything, kept all of the families together. Before him there had been Schumacher and then Vettel. Hamilton was a wonder boy. He’d risen up in the ranks in the button family before breaking away and starting his own. It had started a war, a war that Hamilton had been quick to put an end to.

He was in charge of the crime family now.

Lando listened as Lewis ran the meeting. He spoke to each family member, a man from his organisation taking notes. “We have a newcomer at the table today,” Lewis bellowed, leaning forward with his hands clasped in front of him. “As we all know, Norris isn’t in the best of shape. So, in his steed, he has sent his son, Lando.”

Lando has a tight smile as he waved to the rest of the room. He’d met them all before, Sainz and his father were once friends. He’d spent a lot of time with his son when he was younger.

Finishing the meeting, Hamilton dismissed everybody. “Ah, Lando, can I speak to you for a moment?” He asked as he lit a cigar.

Lando walked over to him and accepted the cigar he offered to him. “What can I do for you, sir?” Lando asked, sitting in the seat beside his own.

Hamilton took his cigar from between his lips. “As you know, your father and Sainz haven’t always been the best of friends. There has been something brewing between your families for a while now and it is my job to squash it. Your father, Sainz and I have been having talks for years now, and we came to one conclusion.”

Lando cleared his throat. He hadn’t smoked very much before, but it was a habit he had been picking up since his father’s health started declining. “What might that be, sir?”

“Your sister.”

Lando’s face paled. His eyes went wide, and his mouth felt metallic. “What sister?” His protective instincts kicked in, but he couldn’t do anything in front of Hamilton. Lando felt sick.

“Before your mother died, she came up with a plan to unite your families. Your sister is to marry Sainz Jr and you’re to make sure it happens, okay?”

Hamilton gave Lando no time to reply. He put out his cigar and walked away, leaving Lando still sitting at the table.

He couldn’t stand up. His chest hurt and he needed to empty his stomach. Lando stood from his seat and rushed out of the room. He made his way through the halls and out to his car. He couldn’t throw up in Lewis Hamilton’s bushes, could he? No, Lando had to get home.

Driving around the fountain, Lando sped back home. He could hide his sister away, couldn’t he? Send her somewhere that didn’t have any of the families in power. Their house in Monaco was a no go, not while Charles was in power. Maybe their house in Belgium, but too many families in power surrounded the country.

Driving home was a blur for Lando. He couldn’t allow his little sister to marry into another crime family. And it was a plan his stepmother came up with. She was the one hellbent of protecting Y/N in the first place; how could she let this happen?

As soon as Lando was out of his car, he threw up onto the gravel driveway. He threw up until he had nothing left in his stomach. Lando couldn’t face going inside, not yet. He couldn’t tell her, not yet. How was his father allowing this?

Lando wanted them answers. He wanted them real bad.

Leaving his car where it was, Lando marched towards the house. He threw his eyes to somebody at the front door and stormed past them. Up several flights of stairs and towards the furthest bedroom. When he walked past Y/N’s bedroom, his steps faltered. She was in there, and she had no idea what was waiting for her.

Lando burst into his father’s bedroom. It was a horrible sight to see, him laying in bed hooked up to oh so many machines. He stared at Lando as he walked over to the desk, grabbed the chair and dragged it back over to the bed. “Dad,” he said, staring at him.

Mr Norris didn’t respond. He stared at his son, waiting for him to continue.

“I had my first meeting with the heads of the families today,” Lando said, his leg bouncing. “Hamilton pulled me to the side to talk about a deal Helena made with Sainz. Do you already have an invite to Y/N’s wedding? Or am I the last to find out? Well, aside from Y/N, of course.”

Mr Norris coughed. “Has she met with him yet?”

“What?”

“Has Y/N met with Carlos Sainz Jr yet?”

Lando shook his head. “No, she hasn’t.”

“Arrange it for the end of the week. I want the ball rolling on this as soon as possible,” said Mr Norris. He waved his hand, dismissing his son, but Lando ignored it.

“No,” he said and stood up. He pushed his hair back, knocking it over. “No, not until you tell me why! Why are you throwing Y/N to the lions when we’ve spent the last twenty years trying to protect her?!” He shouted, fury written on his face.

Mr Norris shook his head. "You know what will happen if we do not make peace with Sainz. Set up a meeting between Y/N and Sainz Jr."

With no other choice, Lando left the room. He stopped just outside of his father's door and punched the wall. The men guarding Y/N's door watched, but they didn't let their gazes linger.

Lando let out a shout as his fist connected with the wall, but he didn't register the pain. There were more pressings things at hand.

He marched down the hallway and pushed his way into Y/Ns room. "Lan!" She cried when he pushed the door shut behind him. "How was your meeting with the heads of family?"

This wasn't something he wanted to talk about. Especially not with Y/N. But, what other choice did he have? He was supposed to arrange a meeting between her and Carlos.

Lando stood by the window, looking out into the gardens. "We've got something we need to talk about," he said, refusing to look at her.

"What's the matter, Lan?"

With a sigh he turned around and sat on the bed beside her. "Before your mother passed, she set up a business deal using the help of our dad, Hamilton and Sainz. This business deal actually involves you."

"Me?" Y/N gasped as she stared at her brother. "What could I possibly have to do with anything?"

Lando sucked in a breath. "You know the problems we've been having with the Sainz family? Well, your mother, our father, Hamilton and Sainz had been working together to try and rectify this. Before she died, your mum came up with a solution."

"Lan, just tell me," she muttered, picking at the skin around her nails.

This was the hardest thing he would ever have to do. "Y/N, you're getting married," he said quickly. "It was your mothers ideal, so there can't be any other solution."

Y/N was quiet for a moment. Married. She was going to be getting married.

"I didn't want this for you, but we have no other choice," he continued. "Please, Y/N, try to understand."

"No, Lan, I understand. I get it," she mumbled, placing her hands in her lap. "I know its something I have to do. Just, tell me, who am I going to be marrying?" But Y/N was pretty sure she already knew.

"Do you remember my old friend, Carlos?"

A/N: yes, I still have the novel version in the works. @nurse-floyd is the only person who's had the privilege of reading it so far, but this fiction is a taste

[leyavo]

| I am my father’s daughter | 10 |

💖 Dad!Price & Daughter!reader, eventual Soap x reader.

PART TEN: John Price hasn’t seen or heard from his daughter in over a year, but that changes when she calls him one night asking for help. 3k+ words

[18+] MDNI | TW: hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/ complicated father-daughter relationship

Previous parts of -> [Series Masterlist]

🔈Readers view of John is different, he’s come and gone in her life etc so she thinks he’s not that great. So don’t send me hate

Growing up you'd confine yourself to your room, safe and warm under the bedsheets. Something you came back to even as an adult, as a kid though you used to imagine you were in the circus under a tent. You'd think of all the animals and performers, the ones from that book you never returned to the library, due to Lena uprooting your life once again. The tent (sheet) though always travelled with you, the one constant in your life.

Today, the circus was the guys moving around the house, you could identify them from the weight of their steps alone. One missing though, Johnny. You hadn't seen him since yesterday morning when he squeezed past you in the porch after a run. He didn't so much as glance at you, the music blaring through his headphones. You hadn't heard the creak of his door either or bumped into him in the hallway.

The duvet slung over your body though, much heavier and softer than the one you lugged around with you throughout your life. How you balled it up in a bin bag each time Lena decided she wasn’t happy and needed a fresh start, taking you god knows where. The mattress beneath you now, memory foam. No springs digging into you as you try to get comfortable. It’s why you don’t mind sharing a room with the Captain. The bed alone a luxury you aren’t familiar with. Something you could get used to.

An attainable goal to work for, a bed like this. To anyone else it might seem odd, they may even tell you to dream bigger, but you know what it’s like to be denied the basic and small things. Stuff you should have by now at your age, but the only things you own are the clothes on your back and the ones in your duffle bag. You’ll start small, that’s a promise you remind yourself each time you actually eat breakfast in the morning. You’re still trying to get used to a full fridge and well stored cupboards. Someone refills them, you’re not sure who though.

You also know what it’s like not to have your space, no room or bed to seek an escape or find that safety. Lena never let you share her bed either, stating that only her boyfriend would be in there. Least the Captain let you share his space. If you didn’t have a room or sleep in the car you were left with wherever you could find. The sofa isn’t as safe, no it’s out in the elements. Blind to those who watch you whilst you sleep, who wake you with a heavy hand or a raised voice.

It’s been years since then, you try not think about it. Shove it down, refuse to let it control you in the present. Your stomach growls in protest and you press down on it to silence it. The last time you’d eaten was yesterday lunch at work, after Lena’s ambush you just wanted to hide. You peel the duvet back and squint at the alarm clock, not realising you’d spent most of the day in bed. The room dark, yellow glow of the light in the hallway creeping underneath the door frame.

Saturday wasted, but most of your life till now had been so too, you couldn’t care less what an extra day made.

You drag yourself up though, unlocking the door and peering down the hallway. Oddly quiet for the early evening, no talk echoing downstairs or the sound of the kettle. You flicked the light on as you walked through the living room. The fridge door unnaturally light as you opened it, no milk cartons or cans of beer lining the shelf. A half grated pack of cheese and one lone egg rolling around the centre. Huh, looks like it wasn’t magic after all. You’d never seen it so bare.

“Ain’t had a -,”

You jump at the sudden voice, shrieking as you launch yourself away from them. Hand holding your chest as you turned to face Kyle.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Kyle said, closing the fridge door and smiling at you, hazel eyes softening as they met hours. You believe him too, Kyle’s presence a welcome constant since you’d arrived at the base. You felt like he could read your mind some days, knowing when you didn’t want to talk so he’d sit in silence eating dinner with you or chatting to you when he could sense that you were stuck in your head, overthinking.

“I was going to make dinner, but there’s no food. So think I’ll just go back to bed,” you say, but as you walk away Kyle’s fingers slip into your and stop you. He’s always particular with his touch, never grabbing your arm or wrist, sometimes even asking you to wait a second. Gentle, but direct with his words so that you don’t get confused or take them the wrong way. You know exactly where you stand with him.

If you were older maybe you’d even have a crush on him, he’s a good ten years older than you though. Not overly bulky like Simon and your dad, you cringe at the thought and comparison. More like an athlete’s physique, Johnny did say he was the most competitive.

“Gotta eat,” he says, dropping your hand and nudging his head over his shoulder for you to follow him. “Waiting for you to come down so we can go to the canteen.”

Your stomach drops at his confession, the fact you made him wait later than usual to go to the canteen and eat. He should have went without you. “I don’t have any money on me,” you mumble, hoping he doesn’t know about the Captains hand out. You didn’t want to explain the deal with Lena.

“That’s what my cards for,” he says, showing you his pay-card for the base canteen, even his photo was model worthy. “Come on, chuck this on. It’s cold out there.” He passes you a fleece draped over the sofa and holds it for you to put your arms through the sleeves.

There’s a military badge sewn on to the chest, the fleece doused in men’s deodorant. You walk with Kyle through the base, side by side. He keeps the same pace as you, talking to you about work and asking if the trucks running alright. The old thing goes, so it must be.

Kyle leads you into the canteen, scanning his card and pulling trays out for both of you. He talks you through the best food to get, convincing you not to go with the soup of the day. He doesn’t let you carry your tray, asking you to pick a table and he’ll bring it all over.

You sit at the furthest table away, looping round the outskirts of the room and avoiding a rowdy group of guys that looked like they’d just come back from some sort of mission. A little too loud for your liking. Kyle joins you, sliding your tray in front of you as he passes and sits opposite, fork diving into his mash potato like a man starved.

"So, how you settling in?" He asks between a mouthful, he doesn't spare you a glance as he shovels another mound of mash into his mouth.

"I've never settled anywhere," you mumble, trailing off on the thought and the realisation hits you like a bucket of cold water. You'd settled for the bare minimum when it came to other people, but never expected to make a home for yourself or fit into someone else's. There's nothing for you to aim for, not when you don't know how a normal family functions. Maybe you weren't meant to know, you've gone this long without.

Mistakes are either thrown away or corrected, you're still wondering what the Captain wants in terms of you. Some sort of correction for himself to feel better, a way to make up for the years he was absent? Thrown away if you're not moulded into something he's expecting? You never did live up to Lena's expectations.

"Mactavish, eh." Johnny says, sliding next to you on the bench. His elbow brushes your arm as he lifts his fork from his tray, sapphire eyes darting to your furrowed brow and he chuckles. "I was wondering who pinched me fleece."

You glance down at the badge on the chest and the small 'J.M' embroidered beneath it, you don't know how you missed it the first time. Too stuck in your head like always. Well that and his surname printed on the back in capital letters, you glare at Kyle who gave you a shrug, his gaze darting between the close proximity of you and Johnny.

“Didn’t realise you were part of me clan, not that I’m complaining." Johnny shrugs, bumping his elbow into your arm and nearly knocking you off the bench. He often forgets his size, pulling you back to him so you don’t teeter over the edge. The push and pull very much like the emotions you hold for him, fighting to stay away and reaching out for him all at once.

Kyle shifts in his seat, narrowed gaze darting to Johnny. The look alone making you focus on the food still on your tray, you'd been pushing the peas around with your fork the whole time you'd spoke to Kyle. You swallow the cold food, hoping to be out of the canteen and back under the covers in the Captain's room. Maybe you should have stayed there.

The two talk about some sort gossip running through the barracks, apparently Johnny's been there all day and picked up some juicy intel, if that's what you can call it. You've heard worse at school than whatever they're whispering about. Names that sound like they're out of a comic book, some ghost terrifying the new recruits and you just want to roll your eyes at the possibility of some spirit trapped in the barracks.

"Shit, Las-," Kyle says, silencing his phone as he reads the screen, "got something to do, you alright going back with Johnny?" He doesn't give you a chance to reply though, nodding as Johnny answers for you.

You don't stay much longer, Johnny even finishes whatever you left on your tray. Asks if you want some more to take back to the res' house, but you decline the offer. You can't see yourself going back there for a meal, the room too loud that you just want to cover your ears with your hands.

Johnny walks back with you, the excess of his fleece wrapped around you and twisted between your fingers. He's quiet, which is a rarity since you've known him. You've got one of the captains knitted hats shoved over your head, the usual army green that's probably travelled more than you have. The frost on the path crunches under your boots, Johnny's a step behind as if he anticipating a fall and he's ready to catch you. Thankfully you don't.

Part of you wants to keep walking, anything to distract you from the thoughts swimming around in your head. It doesn't matter if you talk or not, you enjoy the walks around the base with Johnny. The fresh air and company you could get used to.

You unzip Johnny’s fleece, but he catches your hands before you can shrug it off. "You don't want it back?" His fingers hook beneath the fabric as he pulls it back over your shoulder.

"Nah, keep it," he says, stumbling back down the stairs as the porch light turns on. "Just don’t let your Da' catch you in it."

"You're not coming in?" You ask, key half turned in the lock as you glance back at him over your shoulder.

He shakes his head, "Nah, got some training bits to do.”

Johnny steps closer and something in you snaps, your back hitting the front door before he can close the minuscule distance. Your chest shudders, heart racing as his gaze drops to your lips. He doesn’t move an inch though, the palm of his hand smoothing down your arm. Light touch ridding you of the bundle of nerves and thoughts trying to convince you he’s just being nice to hurt you. To get something from you. Because why would anyone be interested in you? There’s only one reason right.

You’ve been on edge since Lena grabbed you yesterday. Analysing every little spec of detail or action others have given you. As if they know how much the back of your scalp hurts from being pulled. How even now it’s tender to touch or lay on. A lasting reminder not to test your mother. You’ve let your guard down, with everyone and in return you’ve you got hurt. You always do.

"Alright there?" His soft voice filtering through the noise in your head. He's so gentle in his approach when it matters, as if he can sense its exactly what you need. Doesn't lose his temper or sigh in frustration when you don't hear the first time or reply straight away.

"I'm okay, a little tired," you answer, head falling against the door as you stare up at him. “Goodnight, Johnny.”

“That you, kiddo?” John calls, he’s convinced he’d heard your voice and muted the tv, looking over his shoulder to the light flickering outside the porch window.

A thump hits the front door and John’s on his feet nearly crashing into you as you enter. Your bag hanging on the crook of your elbow and his hat grasped in your clenched fist.

“Daad,” You say it like you’re questioning his and yours existence, it doesn’t feel natural falling from your lips. A forced smile faltering as if your minds caught up with your body, it’s gone as quick as it appeared. John wonders if any smile directed at him has been genuine. If you even want to call him dad. He knows he doesn’t deserve it.

There’s a part of you he can’t access and he knows it’s because he’s kept you at arms length. Shielded you from the terrors of his job and the slight risk of it following him home, to his family, to you. Even as a kid he couldn’t allow himself to get close. Ripped his heart out of his chest whenever he had to leave you for another few months or worse a year. Hated wiping the tears from your face and tugging his coat out of your tight grasp. And by the time you were old enough to understand, you were the one keeping him at a distant. Poetic justice, John likes to call it.

“What’s going on? Something happen?” You ask, tearing him out his head. The quiver of your bottom lip betrays you, gaze flitting to the stairs as if expecting someone else to be there. John knows somethings happened alright, just not what’s going with you. Always scanning the room for someone, that or planning a quick escape. He hopes it’s more of the first one.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “You sure you don’t wanna come home with me?” He asks, knowing the answer before you even respond. Angie keeps asking him if you’re going and as much as he wants you to go with him, he can’t force you.

Your bag thuds on top of the dining table and you snatch the thermos from the outer pocket. “No, I’m staying here,” you snap, the spray of warm water filling the sink drowns out the swear word you mumble. “Like I said the other three times you asked me today.”

John reaches out, palm hovering over your shoulder, but you dodge his touch. Thermos clanging to the draining board, you don’t like confrontations and he thinks maybe the previous night he scared you more than he realised.

“Can you look at me, kiddo?” He asks, stepping back to allow you some space. Always that arms length pushing him further away when all he wants to do is embrace you.

Your eyes flit to his before settling just over his shoulder. Another thing he hates, how you’re not comfortable holding his attention. “Sorry,” you say on instinct, as if by telling him that word he’ll go easy on you. Your greatest defence. When you have nothing to apologise for.

“Nah, I’m the one that’s sorry,” he says, scratching his stubbled jaw. “Shouldn’t have left it this long. You got hurt because of me and I don’t want that. The other night, that won’t happen again alright?”

There’s a shake of your head, your eyes follow his hand movements. “It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean to.”

John doesn’t like how easy it is for you to brush it off and make an excuse up, because it isn’t alright. He should have sorted you a room out ages ago in order to prevent this, just like when you weren’t allowed in your parents bedroom as a child. “Well you’ve got a room to yourself now,” he says, gesturing you to follow him to the stairs and you trail after him, brows furrowing as he stops in the hallway.

“Ugh, this is Johnny’s room,” you say, not stepping inside with John as if he’s testing you. You linger in the doorway, noticing the empty wardrobe and clear surfaces that once held Johnny’s belongings.

“It’s yours now, Johnny’s staying at barracks so he can be closer for a new training course.” Lies, but you don’t question him on it. He helps you bring your duffle bag into the room, finally taking your creased clothes out and hanging them in the wardrobe.

You're perched on the edge of the bed staring out the fogged up window. Always so caught in your own head, you don't realise John's watching you. Back straight, shoulders squared as you keep the tension in your body. The line of your jaw taut, muscle flexing as you dare to look to him once again. There's many similarities between you and your mother, both strong willed and reluctant to trust, to trust him. He doesn't know what Lena's like now, but he know's the hatred she still holds for him. Sometimes that bite comes from you too and he feels like he's twenty again trying to dodge a shattering glass. Lena might have used you against him, but she'd never hurt you right? You always chose Lena over him growing up, then chose yourself when you were old enough.

[Part eleven]

Daughter!readers starting to unravel and John noticing more 🫡 please note I am dyslexic so there may be errors/mistakes. I do edit multiple times but miss out things - Leya

Taglist: @unclearblur @enfppuff @elita1 @tired-writer04 @kaoyamamegami @gallantys @leon-thot-kennedy @trulovekay @harley101399 @misshoneypaper @rpgsandstuff @tomatto1234 @lolyouresilly @madsothree @astrothedoll @grandfartvoid @delaynew @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @little-mini-me-world @exitingmusic @majocookie @elegancefr @jesskidding3 @thepowers-kat-be @frangiipanii @ye-olde-trash-panda @sleep101 @bluebarrybubblez @shitaaba @muraaaaaa @vajjaa

[fawnwilde]

Could you potentially write a little something about reader traveling with Charles after Arthur’s death? Reader was in the gang, she is very sweet and friendly, and is good at getting people to do what she wants, while Charles is good at survival and keeping them alive. Together they travel, seemingly complete opposites but slowly falling for each other. Reader understands his need for silence, and Charles entertains her meaningless conversations. Charles is tired of being a lone wolf and finds comfort in having someone to look out for, and gains a sense of safety having her looking out for him. Maybe something about them around a campfire one night, maybe reader convinces Charles to have a drink with her and things get a little intimate for the first time, or fluffy idk! Whatever you want! Thank you very much

What Comes After I ⋆˚࿔

Charles Smith x reader

next

rating: explicit (18+)

This is such a great ask, thank you so much!! I took the prompt and kind of went crazy with it, so I hope you like it! <3

content warning: smut MDNI, angst, fluff, sunshine reader, period typical racism, friends to lovers, outdoor sex shenanigans, cunnilingus, piv sex, cuddlin n shit

word count: 4.2k

You were there when Arthur died.

The both of you had witnessed the gang’s demise, until it was only you two and John left. When it came to it, he had told you to leave with John. And you planned to, but you had a bad feeling when Arthur left your line of sight.

You found him on the mountain, beaten to within an inch of his life with Micah Bell standing over him. You tried to get in between them, willing to die to protect your friend. Micah looked ready to do that for you, if Dutch hadn't intervened.

But that brief kindness meant nothing to you when both he and Micah left, turning their backs on you.

Arthur told you not to worry, told you to leave in case Micah came back. But you refused, unwilling to leave him in his state. You held his hand as he succumbed to his injuries, his body too far gone to do anything. The both of you watched the sun rise, and you only allowed yourself to cry when you felt his hand go limp in yours.

Charles found you there, not too long later.

You were sitting beside your fallen friend, tears blurring your vision as you prepared yourself to bury Arthur. A shadow was cast over you, and you looked up to see Mr Smith, a devastated look on his face.

You weren't upset with Charles for not being there when it all fell apart. He had his own job to do, one which was personal to him. But no matter how many times you said that, you could tell he felt guilty for not being there to help when he was needed.

You buried Arthur together. Hands shaking with every pile of dirt removed from the ground, tears reflecting off your skin as you placed him in his grave. The two of you stood on top of the mountain for a while, unwilling to leave Arthur alone.

After a while, you felt Charles take your hand. You looked up at him, and he nodded, pulling you away.

You and Charles weren't close before. He joined the gang less than a year before the fall, where you had been a member since John had joined.

Charles was always kind to you. He was soft spoken when talking to you, his hands were respectful when he helped you off a wagon, and he sat silently beside you around the campfire, a calming presence. He was a friend, someone you could rely on, but only one of many.

Now, as if overnight, you were all each other had. And The two of you certainly made an unusual pair.

You travelled side by side across the plains. He atop his large steed, you driving your trusty wagon. The quiet roads between towns were only disturbed by your incessant talking. You never liked silence, and would often find yourself chattering away to an audience of one.

Charles would rarely contribute. He would hum in agreement if you asked for his opinion, or huff out an amused laugh at your retelling of an old camp incident. The most you would get out of him was when you would ask him a question about the surrounding nature, or about the type of bird that landed on your bench. You enjoyed the days where he would tell you about his culture.

Sometimes you wonder if you annoy him. He was a man of few words, while you were always known for your silver tongue and lively personality.

Whilst you had been a part of the gang for years, you were never there for your fighting abilities. You knew how to shoot, sure, but your skills were limited. You were a natural born sweet talker, and a personable aura that got people to trust you. Dutch often had you working as a distraction, or out gathering information. But you liked to think that your main job was being the voice of reason, or a friend to everyone in camp,

But while you could sell milk to a cow, you couldn’t defend yourself against a real threat. The others would protect you in danger, and now that Charles was your only companion, he was always your saviour. He would defend you from the occasional coyote, he would hunt food to keep you from going hungry, he would be by your side if a stranger got too comfortable with you.

Charles had become everything to you, but you were scared that in the days where he would be silent, he was regretting taking you with him. You weren't much use save for your chatter, which Charles clearly had no use for.

You sometimes fear you’re a burden.

Today, as the sun had started to set, you were glad to see a town on the horizon. A town meant you could get a drink somewhere, maybe a hot meal that Charles’ wouldn't have to catch for you, and a room with a bed.

You were also thankful that Charles would get a break from you.

It was a self deprecating thought, you know, but you hoped that if Charles had a night away from you, it would make it easier being on the road again with you the next day.

You look over at the man in question, noting the deep furrow in his brow, and his tight grip on the reins. He was tense, and you shrank in your seat worrying if you are the reason.

The two of you hitch your horses outside of a run down saloon. You begin climbing down from your wagon, accepting the hand Charles offers.

“Thank you.” You smile, and he nods.

The two of you walk into the saloon. It’s dim,and smells strongly of liquor and sweat, but you cannot help but feel giddy at the sight of food being served from the bar.

“I'll apologise in advance, I don’t think I’ll be too ladylike when I get a meal.” You laugh, looking up at Charles as you make your way across the floor, “I could eat a horse right now.”

“Don’t tell me you’re bored of what I get us already.” Charles huffs, an amused smile playing on his lips.

You smile even brighter at his jest. You take a seat at the bar, warily putting your hands on the sticky bar. Charles hovers beside you, surveying the saloon with focused eyes even in the low light.

The bartender wipes a rag over a glass, raising an eyebrow at the odd pair of you, “What can I get you?”

You order food and a shot of whiskey for yourself. Charles declines a drink, eyeing the bartender warily as the other man stares at him for too long. You place a couple of notes on the bar before Charles touches your shoulder.

“There’s a hotel across the street, I’ll go and get us a couple of rooms.”

“You don’t want to eat here?” You ask, confused.

He shakes his head, “I'll figure something out. Don’t feel like staying here too long.”

You nod with a sad expression. This is one of the worse areas, plenty of white patrons glaring at Charles. It makes you sick, judgement against one of the best men you know simply for the colour of his skin. You understand why he wants to leave, and touch his arm gently in reassurance.

He looks down at you with an unreadable expression, before nodding and turning to leave.

The bartender leaves you your meal, and you try to eat without feeling down about being alone. You enjoy Charles’ company, and you always feel safe when he’s around. You down your shot, feeling a prickling sensation at the nape of your neck.

The feeling of being watched.

Turning your head, you make eye contact with a man. He’s tall and gangly, face red with sun burns. He smiles hungrily at you, dry lipped and yellow stained teeth. You shudder, turning back around and trying to make yourself even smaller.

A presence appeared at your side, and you hoped that Charles had changed his mind and come back. But no, as you turn, you come face to face with the unnerving man from before.

He licks his teeth, looking you up and down with a predatory grin, “Never seen you around these parts, girly. Where’ve you come from?”

Disgust crawls up your spine.

You lean away from him, grimacing.

“Aw, where do you think you’re going, kitty? Come play with me.” The man reaches out, his fingers brushing against the bare skin on your shoulder, before his hand is snatched away.

You gasp as Charles comes into view. He towers over the other man, who’s face drops when he looks up at your rageful friend.

“Get your hands off of her!” Charles shoves the man back, sending him crumbling and cursing.

You gasp as Charles takes your hand, leading you firmly but gently out of the saloon. Patrons stare as you leave, whispering amongst themselves at the chaos.

You’re led across the street, Charles’ hand in yours the only warmth protecting you from the chill of the night. He walks briskly, a sneer on his lips. You hold onto him tighter, letting him lead you into the hotel and up the stairs.

He takes you to one of the rooms, unlocking it and gently pulling you in. Once the door is closed, he deflates slightly, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten so angry.” Charles says softly.

You shake your head, “You've got nothing to apologise for. You saved me again.”

He smiles sadly, shrugging as he makes eye contact with you, “It's been a long day.”

You look down at your joined hands, surprised to see him still holding it. He lets you go, almost hesitantly, before taking a step away from you.

“You should get some rest. We’ll go at sunrise, get away from this town.” Charles growls the last word, eyes flashing as he remembers the man from the saloon.

Nodding, you clasp your own hands together. He turns to leave.

“Goodnight Charles.”

“Goodnight, dove.” He says gently, the nickname he sometimes uses for you making you smile.

The door closes behind him, leaving you alone and rubbing at the hand he held, missing the warmth he provided.

The next morning, you meet Charles outside the hotel. He feeds both of your horses apples, talking quietly to them with an easy smile on his face.

You join his side, exchanging greetings before heading off.

The journey starts normally, you retell a story of when Arthur and you stumbled upon an O'driscoll hide out and had to hide in a couple of fox holes. Arthur got stuck and you had to dig him out while a mother fox almost bit his nose off.

Halfway through the story, you notice Charles looking tired and weary, and anxiety creeps up on you again, worried you’re annoying him again.

A fork in the road separates the path in two directions. You pull your horse to a stop, a sigh deflating you.

Charles halts as well, looking over at you.

“Charles… look, maybe we should..” You start, voice trembling. You can’t look at him keeping your eyes low as you try to sift through your thoughts.

He says your name softly, walking his horse closer to our wagon.

“Maybe we should go our separate ways.” You choke out, “I… I can’t stand making you feel miserable. I know you feel an obligation to me, us being the last two left, but you shouldn't feel the need to stick around. I want you to be happy, Charles.”

You sit in silence. Your eyes remain on the dirt ground, a tear falling down onto your skirt.

Charles sighs, murmuring your name again, urging you to look at him again.

“You don’t make me miserable.”

Looking up, you lock eyes with him. He looks ashamed, guilty for making you feel this way.

“Im sorry if I seem miserable. But I’m not. I like listening to you talk. You make my days happier.” He shrugs, looking away and off into the distance, “So. I don’t think we should go our separate ways. I'll be too bored.”

With that, he clicks his tongue, spurring his horse forwards.

“Now, what happened when the fox found Arthur in her home?” He asks you.

You watch him for a moment, feeling happiness rise in your chest again.

After that conversation, things became infinitely better with Charles.

Knowing that you didn’t annoy him and that he enjoyed your talkativeness made you embrace your own personality around him. Your days were filled with easy conversation, enjoying the scenery surrounding you both.

Charles made more of an effort to engage with you, but you often reminded him that he didn’t need to change himself for you, you liked him just the way he was.

You loved him just the way he was.

You didn't tell him that. You realised it while the both of you were taking a break from travelling.

A deer calf had gotten trapped on the edge of an embankment,it’s mother panicked and erratic. Charles climbed down and rescued the baby deer, moving swiftly but gently.

He managed to renite the family without causing any more stress, taking his leave as the mother cleans her young.

As Charles mounted his horse, a buck approached the doe and calf, checking over the baby and mother. The small family looked to you and Charles, before retreating back into the woods. The buck lingered, before it followed his family.

He wondered aloud about the buck, explaining to you reincarnation and how he believed that maybe the buck was Arthur, and the doe and calf, the family he lost. He shrugged off your skepticism, stating that he just hoped Arthur would find happiness in another life.

You realised you were in love with Charles Smith in that moment.

The two of you had set up camp in a small clearing, a winding river surrounding you and giving you somewhere to fish.

You got you both dinner, and helped Charles start a fire.

Once dinner was eaten and the sun had set, you sat back and watched him as he stoked the fire. The flames lit his face stunningly, his strong brow and full lips casting moving shadows, his dark eyes tired but focused on the task at hand.

You reach into your satchel, looking for your journal to do a quick sketch of him. Your fingers brush against something glass, and you almost exclaim in glee when you pull out a bottle of whiskey you bought a few weeks back. It's unopened, the opportunity to pour a glass never appearing.

Tonight would have to do.

You unscrew the lit, nose wrinkling slightly at the harsh odour immediately released. Taking a quick swig, you wince at the burn, but grin at the warm feeling it immediately provides.

Charles looks up, and you wave him over.

“Come on, come drink with me.” You smile, shaking the bottle gently.

He raises his eyebrows, looking between you and

“I don’t think so.” He chuckles, grabbing his knife and a block of wood to whittle.

You sigh, frowning.

“I don’t understand you sometimes, Charles Smith.” You say, exaggerating your disappointment to guilt him to join you, “We’re safe here. You can relax for a night.”

Charles huffs through his nose, glaring at you half-heartedly “And if tonight is the night we finally get attacked by a pack of hungry wolves?"

“Then I will defend us.” You say with faux stoicism.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope.” You giggle, grabbing both of your tin cups.

He laughs, eyes crinkling with a large smile, “Fine. One drink.”

One drink turned into two, which turned into three, and… you lost count at six. The two of you were lay on the grass a few feet from the fire, laughing at a story you were telling about when Sean tried to do a heist alone and somehow ended up getting chased all the way back to camp by a pack of hungry dogs. Your side hurt from laughing, and Charles’ own laugh echoed around you.

While you sighed and stretched, you could feel Charles’ eyes on you. He's silent for a moment, and you open your mouth to ask him what's wrong, before he speaks.

“I’m in love with you.” He murmurs.

You giggle, turning to look at him. He’s already watching you, his normally serious face relaxed with the effects of the alcohol.

“Really?” You ask, turning over fully to lie on your side.

Charles turns too, nodding. He reaches out, tucking a piece of fallen hair behind your ear. He watches your face, his eyes travelling over your features before landing on your lips.

“Could you love me?” He whispers.

You smile, “I already do.”

Who moved first is anyone's guess, but it doesn't matter as is hips meet yours. They’re warm and firm, and better than you dreamed.

You sigh against him, and Charles deepens the kiss, your tongues meeting in a pleasant battle.

He rolls on top of you, settling between your thighs and dragging his hands over your body. Charles is careful with his touches, feeling your skin with reverence and affection.

You wrap your arms around his neck, winding your fingers in the thick hair cascading from his scalp and fanning around both of your faces. He groans appreciatively as you tug on his strands, his hips pressing flush against yours.

Your gasp breaks the kiss, feeling his large, solid member pressing against you. Charles grunts, kissing along your neck while he shallowly thrusts against you, seeking pleasure only your body can provide.

“Charles…” You moan, spreading your legs further and gripping onto him harder.

“Fuck, love.” Charles sits up on his haunches, admiring the sight you make. His eyes roam over you, his pupils dilated and lips swollen from your kisses.

His thumb rub soothing circles on your hips, his eyes locking on yours once more.

“Do you want this?”

“More than anything.”

A deep rumble emerges from his chest as his hands fly to your shirt, unbuttoning it before growing impatient and tearing it in half. You gasp, then whine as his hands drift to your breasts, caressing your flesh lovingly before pulling your chemise down to expose the skin to his eyes. His lips descend upon them, nipping and sucking marks and taking your nipples into his mouth.

Writhing beneath him, your hand return to his head, dragging your nails across his scalp and gripping his hair when he sucks on your sensitive skin.

His mouth travels lower, tugging your chemise down along with your skirt and bloomers, leaving you naked beneath the moon. Charles inhales sharply as he admires you, groaning as he kisses every inch of skin accessible.

With a swift motion, he pulls your thighs over his shoulders, looking up at you for permission. You nod and whine down at him, “Please, Charles-”

He needs no further invitation, plunging his face into your cunt. Gasping, your neck arches as he latches onto your clit, rolling his tongue and teeth over it thoroughly. Stars appear behind your clenched eyes as Charles worships your pussy, devouring you like a man starved.

One of your hands grips his hair, while the other claws at the dirt below, feeling your orgasm approaching embarrassingly close. Charles alternates between plunging his tongue into your slick hole and sucking your clit into his mouth, making you pulse and writhe against his mouth. He groans against you, his own eyes rolled back in enjoyment.

As you reach the precipice, your hand clenches in his hair, sharp enough to possibly hurt, but he doesn't cease his task. He knows you’re close, and puts pressure back on your clit, his teeth dragging across it.

You cum with a cry of his name, back arching and cunt leaking like a faucet. Charles kisses your cunt as you come down, murmuring praises against your thighs.

“Are you alright, my dove?” He asks, crawling back on top of you and cupping your face, eyes looking over you with love and pride.

You nod, a tired smile on your face. “Mhm.” You reach down, cupping his bulge and causing him to groan, “Want you.”

“Think you can handle me?” He's not cocky with his question; you can tell he is sizable against your palm, big enough to rip you apart if he's not careful. But you trust him, and need him in this moment.

“I can. Made for you.” You smile, kissing him again softly and unhurried.

Charles groans, sitting up to pull off his shirt. Your hands wander over his firm chest. His skin is warm, muscles rippling with his haste to get undressed. He's littered with scars, and you admire them, caressing your fingers over them. He can see the love in your eyes, and it makes him swell with happiness.

He shoves his trousers down, tossing them away to land with the rest of your discarded clothes. Your eyes widen at the sight of his cock. It’s above average in length, but as thick as your wrist and curving upwards. The tip is an angry red and leaking, eager to fill you up.

“I’ll be gentle.” Charles says, noticing your awed expression, “I'd never hurt you, my love.”

“I know.” You smile, taking his face in your hands to pull him down for another kiss. It's slow and meaningful, as he leans back over you with your thighs around his waist.

You can feel him nudge against your entrance, rubbing against your clit as he gets comfortable. One of his arms holds him up beside your head, while the other reaches down to grasp himself in hand.

The both of you look down as he lines himself up, twin groans escaping you as he pushes the tip in. You’re wet enough for him to slip inside easily, inches disappearing inside you agonisingly slow. It’s a tight fit, and your hand grips onto his forearm beside you at the fullness.

Charles curses as he bottoms out, his other man grasping yours as he takes a second to bask in the feeling. You watch his eyes roll shut, his chest heaving. Leaning forward, you kiss his jaw, nudging at his flushed skin.

He presses his face into your neck, pulling out only to fuck back into you, pleasure shooting through your whole body. You grasp onto him, moaning out as he repeats his shallow but hard thrusts.

The alcohol mixed with your joint yearning brings you both to the edge quickly, your knees against Charles’ chest as he moves faster and faster, the wet sounds of your coupling with your gasps and his grunts.

“Fuck, feels so good…” Charles grunts against your shoulder, speeding up his thrusts as he chases his climax.

The cord inside you winds unbearably tight, your own end getting closer with every time his tip bullies your g-spot. His hand leaves yours to disappear between you, pressing rapid circles against your clit.

“Need- need you to cum with me, my love… please, please cum with me.”

You cry out, locking your legs around him as you shake beneath him, your cunt squeezing him tighter. A harsh thrust has you falling over the edge, biting down on his shoulder as your vision blurs and you ride wave after wave of euphoria.

Charles groans, hips suffering, “God- where, my love?”

“Inside. Please, Charles, inside me.” You mewl.

Barely a second later, Charles shoves himself fully inside you, grunting out your name as he empties himself within you. He collapses against you, being wary of his size and not lying on you too long, falling to his side beside you.

Exhausted and sated, you lie boneless and ready to sleep. With your eyes closed, you can hear Charles move around, and can feel him pull a blanket over you both. He pulls you to his chest, kissing your hair.

You fall asleep as he murmurs how much he loves you.

The sun rises on a new day, and you lie awake nestled in Charles’ arms.

His face is peaceful, mouth set in a small smile. You wish you could capture the image and keep it with you forever, never wanting to forget how beautiful he is now he's yours.

The hard ground presses into your hip, and you squirm slightly to get more comfortable. Charles huffs, eyes fluttering awake to see why you were moving out of the cocoon of his arms.

“Morning.” You whisper, brushing you hand over his cheek.

He smiles as his eyes focus on you, turning his head to kiss you palm, “Morning.”

“Any regrets?” You ask, though you know the answer.

“None. You?”

“Only that we didn't do that in a bed.” You joke, grimacing at the hard ground below you.

Charles chuckles sleepily, pulling you over and on top of him. His body is infinitely more comfortable, and you sigh contentedly.

“We’ll have a bed. In our own home, one I’ll make for us.” He murmurs, kissing your head

You drift off again, warm and safe, wrapped in Charles’ arms as he softly talks about the life you will have.

Both of you can't wait for the future.

AN/ Like I said, I went crazy. I really hope you liked it!! Mwah x

[johanna-swann]

It's so funny to me how the second someone insinuates that Maddie may have made a mistake / been unsensitive in her talk with Buck her defense squad is there calling you a sexist asshole. Seriously, Maddie is like weaponised (cishet-)white femininity incarnate. That woman can do nothing wrong and if you disagree you clearly hate women.

Like. Two episodes ago she told a man to kill himself and everybody in the show clapped her on the shoulder with a "well done" and the fandom was worried for her - poor Maddie, how will she get through this, won't this traumatise her? And yes, I know the caller mentioned her daughter by name. The call was being recorded though, she could've got police protection for Jee-Yun within 5 minutes. Instead she literally told a caller to kill himself? Isn't she supposed to be level-headed when people get rude, aggressive or threatening on the phone? Isn't that literally her job, to stay calm throughout these situations?

And now this thing with Buck and Tommy. Nobody even accused her of doing anything bad, people just questioned whether it was particularly sensitive of her to tell her perpetually single and abandoned brother to just "learn how to be alone" instead. As if Buck hasn't been single for most of his life and as if he hadn't been alone almost entirely between the ages of 10 and 26.

Besides, this is a drama show. Like, sue me for wanting to see the siblings fight about something. Let them have the "I'm not the little kid you see in me anymore" fight. Make Buck say it too harshly, make Maddie get defensive, make Chim get caught between them. Make it messy.

Do you know how much more I would love Maddie if she wasn't some sort of saintly martyr and instead actually made stupid or reckless mistakes sometimes and had flaws? Like. Bobby can be distant and secretive. Athena has chronic lone wolf syndrome. Buck is impulsive as fuck. Hen is a prefectionist workaholic who sometimes neglects her family. Eddie can be very self-centered. Chimney will go to great lengths to make himself more likeable (he has actually stopped doing that so much a while ago, he is still something of a peacekeeper though).

Good characters have flaws! Good characters make decisions, act a certain way, say things that are wrong! It's what keeps them and the show interesting. The point is not that they're perfect, the point is that they aren't and you still get where they're coming from and empathise. They've never really done that with Maddie, she doesn't have flaws she just has trauma.

[bikananjarrus]

thinking about how hera lost her brother and her mother to two different wars, and had a father who didn't believe in her and couldn't see past his own vision of the fight to give her the time of day, so she left her home and remaining family behind. thinking about how chopper crashed, went down with his pilot over a warzone, and would have definitely been sent to the scrap pile if hera hadn't saved him, but he still had to wake up to find out that his pilot was dead. thinking about how, after surviving order 66, kanan bounced around from place to place, never letting himself stay too long or get close to anyone because it could cost him his life if anyone found out who he was, and how lonely that would've been to have to bury his past like that. thinking about zeb, another survivor of genocide, thought he was the only one of his people left, truly all alone in the big wide galaxy, and feeling like it was partially his fault because he couldn't save more of his people. thinking about sabine who was young and made an ambitious, devastating mistake that she tried to fix, but her family and clan disowned her anyway, and when she tried to find a new group to belong to, they left her for dead all alone. thinking about ezra, whose parents were taken away from him at age 7 and the person his parents trusted to look out for him if something happened also abandoned him, so he was left orphaned and alone and had to figure out how to survive all on his own, scared to ever get close to anyone because what if they left him too?

just thinking about how every single member of the ghost crew was alone until they found each other. thinking about how hera started that all by first saving chopper and then by giving herself a new home (the ghost), and in turn, giving every member of the ghost crew a new home and a family they could rely on to never abandon them.

[beuhakkaka]

What is Fugis backstory

[THIS POST IS NO LONGER CURRENT. PLS DISREGARD IN TERMS OF CANON]-Beuh

YOU GREEDY PEOPLE, YOU WANT MORE?!?!? (Jk I've been wanting to info dump about this au for the past thousand years)

⚠️TW FOR MENTION OF DEATH/SLIGHT BLOOD ON ONE PIC ⚠️

OKK so Fugi was born in a poor home. His father was a drunk and wasn't around very often, and his mother was a little crazy. His home life would have been TERRIBLE if it wasn't for his twin sister, Angelica. As her name would indicate, she was a total sweety pie and was the complete opposite of Fugis grumpy, cold self. He loved her deeply and was very warm with her, and her alone.

Everything would have stayed relatively fine if it weren't for him and his sisters little escapade in the woods. There, they stumbled across a terrible creature. With teeth as long as his head and sharp as a blade, the beast would have killed Angelica if it weren't for Fugi stepping in.

He fought off the creature, but sustained a bite wound from the ordeal.

The wound healed shockingly quickly, and within hours, it had scarred over. He was now able to return home without his mom noticing (thank goodness!) but if he had known WHY it had healed so quickly, he wouldn't have felt so relieved.

That night, he went to sleep a boy, and the next, he woke up a monster. Long claws, sharp teeth, pointed ears, and above all else utterly massive. He had turned into what they called a giant nosferatu overnight. He ran away from home, knowing his mother would surely turn him in to hunters if he stayed.

BUT, his sister followed his tracks and managed to find him. She begged for him to stay, saying she would never forgive him if he abandoned her. At first, he was, of course, hesiant, knowing how easily he could hurt her and the nature of the creature he had become. But her tears convinced him, so he agreed to try and visit her. Before she left, she gave him a parting gift, her prized mirror. She couldn't give him a photo of her, but if he looked at his reflection, she was sure he would be reminded of his sister, who shared the same smile as him.

Fugi learned to hunt for animals and lay low to remain undetected. He eventually managed to sneak back to town and visit his sister without being seen, which, of course, was a little nerve-wracking for Angelica, but she loved him. So Angelica helped repair the tears in his clothes and made sure he knew the best places to find food.

One day, while taking a nap in his cave below a cliff, he heard the cries of a little girl. He peeked over the cliff to get a look at her, staying hidden. He did not recognize her bright, red hair, and he knew he surely would have if she had been from his village.

Whoever she was, she clearly needed help. So, keeping himself hidden beneath the cliffs edge, he spoke. Telling her where to go. She 100% should have questioned the echoy, disembodied voice coming from the cliff, but she was so scared she listened anyways, following his directions to the main village.

Fugi thought that was gonna be the end of it, but then the next day, she came back??? She clearly had no sense of preservation and was very lonely, as she loudly declared that "Mr. voice" was to be her friend.

Fugi learned her name was Annora and that she was rather...odd, and annoying.

But with time, he found he didn't mind her company.

He kept himself hidden from her, despite her begging for him to show himself, saying that if she looked at him, she would turn to stone. Of course, being a stupid nine year old, she believed him.

Everything was actually really nice for a few weeks. He got to chat with Annora when he was in the forest and visit his sister at night. Sure, it was a little cold, and sleeping on the caves ground was uncomfortable, but he made it work.

However, everything changed when raiders attacked his village. Fugi hadn't been there when the attack happened, so when he went to visit his sister, all he found was a town, consumed in flames. His sister, his mother, and his father were all dead, along with the rest of the village. Annora never returned, he assumed she had been caught in the fight as well.

Living in the forest he had once had so much fun in, became a constant reminder of his loss. So, to escape the grief, he made his way to where all nosferatu's congregated. The formation of canyons cleverly named "Deaths ledge" thanks to the fact that any human who went there, ended up dead!

It was quite the journey, but he eventually arrived. A desert in the middle of nowhere, there weren't animals or ready running water for him to live on. He could have went back home, but the idea of that made him ill with sorrow. So, he remained.

He struggled at first in the nosferatu's populace, not only being young but also very naive to their ways. Even if they had all been human once, the years of being a monster had shifted their views of empathy. None cared about the dirty child, focused on their own survival and lives.

Such a cold world would have been the end for others, but Fugi managed to scrape by, growing to be a very competent adult.

It was in these adult years, that he happened to hear about a bunch of humans whom were known for plundering villages, and burning it thereafter.

It didn't take long for him to connect the dots.

Now fully grown, and with years of grief turned into rage, the man now had a new goal.

Revenge.

Journeying back to the lush lands of humans, he hadn't thought the first day he took a nap. He would encounter a human girl with bright, red hair.

GRAAHAHH that was so fun to write!!! Ugh, au's are so fun...anyways this isn't 100% solid and is subject to change! But for now this is what I have hehe👹

[fangirl-in-general]

How would Rhys and Pierce react that reader who a friend of Ava is a witch?

OOOOO I love this idea!! Rhys and Pierce are not my number one characters so forgive me if I screw up their personalities a bit but here goes!!

Warnings: slight suggestive content, I am not a practicing witch so I intentionally left it a little vague when it came to actual practices, some language, slight violence in Pierce's oneshot, lmk if I missed anything!

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

Rhys

It hadn't been more than a month since Ava called me screaming and crying over some 'demons' taking over her life.

"Please you have to get them out!! They're driving me crazy!!"

"Get them out?? I'm not an exorcist! I'm a witch!! And a new one at that! I can barely cast a hex much less dispel evil spirits! Girl, call a priest!!" Aca and I have always had each other's backs, ever since high school. I was always the one she would call when she needed something and considering how lonely we both were and how hard it became for her to rely on other people, I felt it was an honor. Though she did overdo it from time to time.

"Spirits? What no! There's actually five men in my house claiming to be demons!!" Wait what...

"IT'S DAEMOS HUMAN!!! CORRECT IT OR I WILL!!!" The unfamiliar voice on the other end of the phone made my heart sink to the floor and I immediately grabbed my keys and a can of wasp spray and raced out the door.

That was about two weeks ago, and I haven't left Ava alone since. They don't seem intent on taking advantage of her 'hospitality', but I wasn't going to take any chances. Especially not with how comfortable she had grown letting them wander about her house unsupervised. One of them went through her bra drawer like a lunatic for crying out loud!!! talking about 'sources of power' and what not.

Creeps...

Rhys, the only one who seemed relatively well adjusted, came and sat next to me at the kitchen counter. I kept my eyes glued to the cards in front of me.

The Tower Upright...

interesting

"Excuse me, I don't mean to intrude. What are those?"

A distracted smile makes its way to my face as I continue to shuffle the cards, another pops out. "Tarot cards. And you're not intruding as long as you don't take them from me like Asch did."

The Chariot reversed...

Rhys lets out a nervous chuckle and continues to inspect my actions. "Do they...do anything?"

I steal a glance; his brows are pressed together in concentration and his eyes pass between expectance and curiosity. "More or less. They're kind of like a guiding tool. We can use them to better understand ourselves and connect with the universe around us. They can be a useful way to prepare for coming events, or to better handle current ones. But most people don't believe in it so it's whatever I guess."

He gasps slightly. "Intriguing. So you use them to see the future and read minds?"

The snort that came out of me was far from intentional, but I honestly had no other idea how to react to that statement. "I mean, sure something like that."

"Can you read mine?"

I turned to him. "You want me to do a tarot reading for you?"

He nodded with more excitement than I had seen from any of them besides the pink one. I shrugged and began to reshuffle the cards. "Fine but just a basic one. I'm still a new witch and I don't wanna hear anything mean or judgy from someone who doesn't even-"

"You're a witch??"

For some reason I felt my blood run cold. I felt like a bug under a microscope, and I couldn't tell if the gaze he had fixed me with was simply observation, or calculation. Similar feelings with vastly different intentions. But both managed to send a shiver down my spine and a reluctant blush to my cheeks.

All I could muster was a nod before forcing myself back to shuffling.

"That's incredible!! Why did you not tell us before! Ava told us she was a powerful sorceress but TWO powerful magic users working together is surely a force to be reckoned with!! You must tell me what you know! I want to learn everything!"

His words forced a smile to my face, and I couldn't help the blush that accompanied it.

His praises continued. "I knew you had to be quite skilled to be so close to Princess Ava, but this explains it all! You were simply trying to hide your abilities so that we wouldn't expect your attack if something went wrong!! How incredibly intelligent!" He leaned forward, excitement practically bursting from him. "Please read this 'tarot' I simply must see your skills firsthand!"

I let a chuckle escape and went back to shuffling the deck. Two cards fell out.

"Death, and High Preist reversed..."

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

Peirce

"You know what Leif!! One of these days you're gonna wish you kept your dirty little mouth shut for once!!"

Leif was (as usual) doing nothing but being the biggest menace he possibly could be. Stealing my phone, going through my things, screaming in my ear, shit talking, etc.

To say I had enough was an understatement. The only thing that kept me from wringing his neck was a large muscley arm wrapping around my torso and throwing me over his shoulder. "Hey! Wha- PEIRCE!!" My screaming didn't stop him from wordlessly lugging me to my room and tossing me onto the bed. Now I know what you're thinking 'omg that's so sexy this is totally about to get fun' well I thought the exact same thing the first three times this happened, and I'll admit the thought still crosses my mind the twelve times it's happened since then but NO! This is still a (mostly) family friendly blog after all (for now).

Anyway, I sit up with a groan and glare at Peirce who has made himself comfortable in the chair in the corner of the room. This happens so often that it's practically scripted at this point. Leif is an ass, I get frustrated, Peirce gets tired, carries me to my room, then babysits me so I won't go out and try to strangle the antagonistic fiend in the other room.

At this point I'm done. I'm so sick of Leif and his attitude and lack of consequences. Just because they think Ava is a powerful sorceress and they don't think I'm anything more than her confidant doesn't mean they get to push me around. Leif is gonna get what's coming to him.

I glance at Peirce who is sitting arms crossed, still watching me though his gaze is softer now. I jump off the bed and head to my desk. digging through the drawers I pull out some candles and begin flipping through the book of incantations I keep tucked under a floorboard. I used to store said book in my nightstand drawer but surprise surprise, the guys went rummaging through my things and I don't trust them not to mess with it.

I'm missing a key piece to the puzzle. "Hey Peirce?"

A hum can be heard from the corner.

"Could I talk you into stealing some of Leif's hair for me?" I turn and give him the sweetest least guilty smile I could muster. He rises slowly and stalks over to me looming as he stared into my eyes as if inspecting for a motive. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't realized how much larger than me he was, because I had defiantly noticed, and it was absolutely something I thought of frequently.

He let out quiet grunt and left the room. I was probably imagining the blush on his cheeks, but the image was going to stay in my head for a painfully long time.

"Peirce w- OW!!! YOU PRICK WHAT THE HELL!!!"

Leif's screaming was nothing new, but it almost made my heart swell to know that Peirce was willing to potentially start a confrontation just to get something I asked without any context at all. 'I should definitely kiss him for that'

He came back into the room holding a suspiciously large chunk of blond hair and handed it to me. I smiled at him, and he nodded before following me over to my desk.

"What are you doing?" His voice always caught me off guard. It was a beautiful, gentle, sound that filled my ears like a deep breath after drowning. I wish he would talk more but I didn't ever want to force him.

"I'm gonna hex him."

"Leif?"

I hum a confirmation and turn to the desk with the supplies. He continues his questioning. "On Daemos it takes a very skilled witch to perform such a task. Are you a skilled witch?"

I nod. The 'skilled' aspect was more or less true. My mentor was very skilled, and I'd been training under her for almost two years now, but I still had a long way to go, and she'd probably scold me big time for simply attempting this... but who said she had to know.

"So you are...magic?"

I turned to look at him. He stood next to the desk, eyes fixed on the task before me, and I couldn't help but smile as I responded. "Yea, something like that. Why?"

A flash of concern passed over his face, but it was quickly replaced with a soft smile that almost melted my heart to the floor.

"It's good to be powerful. I'm glad to know you can keep yourself safe while I can't." Pierce's words shot straight to my heart and tears instantly welled in my eyes.

"Thank you...Pierce." The blush that filled his cheeks at my words was enough to distract me from the fact that I had already lit the candles and was now burning the hair I held in my hands. "OW! SHIT!"

The hair fell from my hands right onto the carpet below us causing a mini panicked stomp dance to shake the room and probably the downstairs neighbor's entire apartment but that also probably the least obnoxious thing they've heard from up here so what can you do I guess.

Welp...there goes that hex...

Pierce begins to walk out the door. "I will bring you more." and despite the screams from the other room, the only expression I could muster was a flustered smile.

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

I hope you enjoyed!! Please feel free to send feed back, this whole blog is an attempt to work on my writing skills so I'm completely open to suggestions and constructive criticism!

Hope you all have the best day!

[trippiexlove]

1+1

Author Note: Part five (and the last part) to Stone Cold Sinner. Read PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , and PART 4 here. Based on the song 1+1 by Beyonce. If you would like to read any of my other works, here is my master list. Leave requests on this linked post.

Warning: Fluff, Slight Postpartum

Pairing: Jey Uso x Black OC (Ari Fletcher as FC)

Word Count: 3,529

I don't know much about algebra But I know one plus one equals two And it's me and you That's all we'll have when the world is through

The rhythmic suckling of tiny lips was the constant hum in Soriya's days. Jeylan, all soft skin and sleepy sighs, was her universe now. Yet, as the evenings settled in, a quiet longing would often creep in, settling like a cool draft despite the Southern warmth. Josh's side of the bed felt cold and empty, a stark contrast to the full weight of her love for him. His family, especially his mother, Mama T, had enveloped her in a warm embrace, but it wasn't quite him.

Mama T was a godsend. She'd arrive most mornings with a pot of simmering grits or a Tupperware container filled with her famous fudge brownies. "You just focus on that baby, Soriya," she'd say, her voice a comforting drawl, "I got everything else." She'd hum softly as she tidied up, her presence a silent reassurance.

One afternoon, Soriya sat on the patio swing, Jeylan asleep in her arms, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. Mama T came out with a glass of lemonade. "You look tired, baby girl," she said gently.

"I am," Soriya admitted, managing a weak smile. "He was up most of the night. I didn't get much sleep. I think he misses his daddy, and truth be told, I do too."

Mama T sat beside her, patting her hand. "I know you do, baby. He misses you somethin' fierce too. Being on the road ain't easy on none of y'all."

"It's just, sometimes it feels so lonely," Soriya confessed, her voice barely a whisper. "don't get me wrong, I love having all of you being here, it's just not the same."

Mama T nodded understandingly. "It ain't supposed to be, baby. He's your other half. But you got us, and we gonna hold you up until he gets back. You hear me?"

Soriya leaned her head on Mama T's shoulder, a wave of gratitude washing over her. "Thank you, Mama. I don't know what I'd do without you all."

Later that week, Josh called, his voice a warm rumble through the phone. "Hey, ma," he said, his tone laced with concern. "How you holding up?"

"Hey, baby," Soriya replied, trying to sound brighter than she felt. "We're okay. Just you know. Missing you."

A slight tension entered his voice. "I know, baby. I wish I could be there. This tour been crazy."

"I know, I know," Soriya sighed, running a hand through her messy bun. "These days feel so long. I haven't seen my mom or the girls in ages. It feels like my whole world is just here."

Josh was quiet for a moment. Then, his voice softened. "I hear you, Princess. It ain't fair for you to be feeling like that. You're doing an amazing job with Jeylan, and you deserve all the support in the world."

Tears pricked at Soriya's eyes. It wasn't an accusation, just a raw expression of her feelings. "I just want you home, Josh."

"I know, baby. And I want to be there. Just a little more time. I'm working on something. I promise." There was a cryptic note in his voice. 

"Okay," she said softly, wiping away a stray tear. "I love you."

"I love you more, ma. Hang in there. You're not alone." I gotta fix this, Josh thought, a plan beginning to solidify in his mind. I need to call Tiff.

A few days later, the excited knocks on the door brought not just Mama T with her usual casserole, but her own mother, Tiffany, and Breanna beaming on the porch. Soriya's jaw dropped, and a strangled cry escaped her lips before she launched herself into a tearful embrace with her mother. The joyful chaos that ensued filled the Atlanta house with a familiar warmth Soriya hadn't realized she'd been missing so acutely. "What are y'all doing here" she stated through the sea of tears as she let them in. 

"Josh flew us out here" Tiff smiled as she made herself comfortable on the couch. 

Soriya's eyes widen in shock, "he did?"

"Yeah, he did," her mother placed a hand on her shoulder, rubbing gentle circles. "called me a few days ago. Said you needed us and booked our tickets"

She let their words sink in. Feeling the heaviness on her shoulders just seemed to disappear. She welcomed them with opened arms and showed them where their rooms would be. 

Later that evening, after Soriya's mom got Jeylan to finally drift off to sleep, Soriya sat in the living room with her mom, Tiffany, and Breanna. A comfortable silence settled for a moment before Soriya spoke, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank y'all for being here. You have no idea how much this means to me."

Her mother reached over and squeezed her hand. "Baby girl, of course, we're here. You're our everything."

Tiffany chimed in, leaning forward, "Seriously, Ri, you've been doing a damn good job. Doing all this on your own, especially with Josh being on the road. But we could tell you needed a little extra love."

Breanna nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we could hear it in your voice when we talked. And honestly, Josh is a good man for making this happen. It shows how much he cares."

Soriya smiled, a genuine smile that reached her eyes. "He is. He really is. And Mama T and his whole family have been amazing. They've really taken me in."

"They seem like good people," her mother said warmly. "And it's clear they adore Jeylan."

"They do," Soriya chuckled softly. "Sometimes I think Mama T wants to keep him!"

Tiffany laughed. "Well, who wouldn't? But seriously, Ri, don't feel bad about missing Josh. It's natural. You two are a team, he's your person."

"Exactly," Breanna added. "And he's doing what he needs to do right now. But the fact that he thought to bring us here? That's speaks volumes."

Soriya's heart swelled with love for her friends and family. "It does. Some days it just hits hard, you know?"

Her mother pulled her into a comforting hug. "We know, baby. And we're here now. We've got you."

One evening, a late-night key turning in the lock announced Josh's return. The house was quiet, Soriya and the girls having finally succumbed to exhaustion. He moved through the dim living room, a familiar weariness in his shoulders, and headed towards the kitchen. The soft glow spilling from the doorway revealed Soriya's mother, her silver hair catching the light, sitting at the kitchen island, carefully measuring formula into a bottle while cradling a sleeping Jeylan against her chest.

A wave of warmth washed over Josh. He leaned against the doorframe for a moment, simply watching. Then, he moved silently into the room. "Hey, Mama Lo," he murmured, his voice low so as not to wake the baby. "he been ok?"

Soriya's mother looked up, a soft smile gracing her lips. "Hey, baby. Yeah, he just woke up for a feed."

Josh gently reached out, his large hands carefully taking Jeylan into his arms. The tiny body nestled against his chest, a perfect fit. He looked down at his son, a profound love etched on his face, before turning back to Soriya's mother.

"Mama Lo," he began, his voice a touch hesitant, "Soriya is everything to me. She's an incredible woman, an amazing mother... and I can't imagine my life without her. Would it be okay with you if I asked her to marry me?"

Soriya's mother's eyes softened, a hint of moisture glistening within them. She reached out and squeezed his arm. "Josh," she said, her voice thick with emotion, "it would make me the happiest mother in the world. I see that you love my daughter, and you're a good man. She deserves all the happiness you can give her."

A wave of relief washed over Josh, followed by a surge of excitement. He had her blessing. Now, he just needed to make it perfect.

The next morning, Soriya woke up to an unfamiliar weight beside her in bed. She blinked, her eyes still adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. Then, she saw him. Josh. His dark, curly hair tousled on the pillow, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Josh?" she whispered, her voice still thick with sleep. "You're home?" she blinked a few times, thinking she was dreaming.

His eyes fluttered open, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Hey, ma," he murmured, reaching out to cup her cheek. "Surprise."

"But you weren't supposed to be back for another few days," Soriya said, her mind still trying to catch up.

"I know," he chuckled softly. "I had to pull some strings. Couldn't stay away any longer." He leaned down and kissed her gently. "How you feeling this morning?"

"Better," she admitted, a warmth spreading through her chest that had nothing to do with the heat coming from the light pouring in from the sun. "Seeing you definitely helps."

Later that day, while Soriya was napping, Josh quietly pulled Tiffany and Breanna aside. "Hey, y'all," he said, a nervous but excited energy radiating from him. "I need y'all help with something."

Tiffany raised a curious eyebrow. "What's up?"

"I want to ask Soriya to marry me," he said, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Breanna gasped softly, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my god, Josh! You f'real!"

Tiffany grinned widely. "Finally! We been waiting for this!"

Josh chuckled. "Yeah, well, I wanted it to be perfect. And I know how close you two are to Soriya. I was hoping you could help me plan something special."

"Of course, we will!" Tiffany exclaimed, her eyes already sparkling with ideas. "You know we got you."

Breanna nodded enthusiastically. "You got anything in mind?"

Josh outlined his idea of a nice dinner followed by a walk on the Jackson Street Bridge. Tiffany and Breanna immediately started brainstorming ways to make it extra special, their excitement mirroring his own.

The next evening, under the guise of a much-needed date night, Josh led a slightly suspicious but undeniably excited Soriya out of the house. Tiffany and Breanna, their eyes sparkling with conspiratorial glee, waved them off, promising Jeylan was in the best of hands.

The restaurant was dimly lit and intimate, the soft murmur of conversations creating a cozy atmosphere. As they settled into their corner booth, a sense of ease settled between them, a welcome change from the hurried phone calls and the focus on baby duties of the past few weeks.

"This is nice," Soriya sighed contentedly, reaching across the table to take Josh's hand. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, ma," Josh replied, his thumb gently stroking her knuckles. "You deserve a night out. You've been incredible with Jeylan."

They ordered their food, and the conversation flowed easily. They talked about Jeylan's latest milestones – the way he'd started to track their faces, the little cooing sounds he'd been making. They shared funny anecdotes and the sheer exhaustion that often came with new parenthood, finding comfort in their shared experience.

"Your mom has been a lifesaver," Soriya said, a grateful smile on her face. "And having my Mom and the girls here, it's been everything. I don't know what I would have done without them. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you doing that.."

"You ain't got to thank me, me. They love you, Soriya," Josh said softly. "And they love Jeylan. I'm glad they could be here for you." He paused, his gaze becoming more intense. "It puts me at ease knowing somebody there for you. I know it ain't easy with me being gone."

Soriya's smile softened, a hint of the earlier loneliness returning to her eyes. "No," she admitted quietly. "It hasn't been. I miss you, your help, your hugs... just having you here."

Josh squeezed her hand. "I know, baby. And believe me, I've missed you both more than words can say. Being on the road... it takes a tole on me being without you two. Every time I get out the ring and come backstage, all I want is to come home to y'all."

Their food arrived, but they continued to talk, their conversation deepening. They spoke about their hopes for their family, the dreams they had for Jeylan, and the kind of life they wanted to build together. There was a renewed sense of connection, a reaffirmation of the strong foundation of their relationship.

As they finished their meal, Josh's eyes held a certain sparkle. "There's one more place I wanted to take you tonight," he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Somewhere with a good view."

Soriya raised a curious eyebrow, but a sense of excitement fluttered in her chest. They walked hand-in-hand through the Atlanta night, the air cool against their skin, until they reached the Jackson Street Bridge. The skyline glittered before them, a breathtaking tapestry of light. They strolled to the middle of the bridge, the city humming softly around them. Josh stopped, turned to Soriya, and took both her hands in his.

Dinner was a blur of easy conversation and reconnecting. As they strolled along the Jackson Street Bridge, the Atlanta skyline shimmering in the distance, Josh stopped, turned to Soriya, and with heartfelt words and a trembling hand, presented the ring.

"Soriya," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "from the moment I met you, my life changed. You brought a light into it that I never knew was missing. And seeing you become a mother to our son... it's made my love for you grow in ways I never thought possible."

He reached into his pocket, his movements deliberate and a little shaky. He pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a delicate, sparkling ring.

Soriya's breath hitched in her throat. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the glittering skyline.

"Baby," Josh continued, his gaze unwavering, filled with a love so profound it stole her words, "will you marry me? Will you let me spend the rest of my life loving you, building our family, and navigating all the ups and downs together?"

A sob escaped Soriya's lips, but it was a sob of pure, unadulterated joy. Through the tears streaming down her face, she saw the depth of his love, the promise of their future.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, "A million times, yes."

He slipped the ring onto her finger, its sparkle catching the city lights. Then, he pulled her close, his lips finding hers in a tender kiss that sealed their promise under the vast, illuminated sky. The earlier ache of loneliness was a distant memory, replaced by the overwhelming warmth of his embrace and the radiant glow of their burning love, now illuminated by the promise of forever.

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The sleek, modern studio buzzed with a low hum of activity. Wires snaked across the floor, and the soft glow of ring lights illuminated the small set. Soriya smoothed down the front of her stylish but comfortable dress, a far cry from the milk-stained pajamas that had become her uniform. Across from her, beaming with practiced enthusiasm, sat Layla Jones, the host of the wildly popular podcast Beyond the Beauty.

"Welcome back to 'Beyond the Beauty,' everyone!" Layla's voice was warm and engaging, the same tone that had garnered her a massive following. "Today, I have the absolute pleasure of chatting with the incredibly talented Soriya! Soriya, welcome to the show!"

"Thank you so much for having me, Layla," Soriya replied, her smile genuine. A small knot of nerves fluttered in her stomach, but the excitement overshadowed it.

"Soriya, your brand, 'Bloom' has taken the beauty world by storm! What started as a passion project has become a global phenomenon. What's it like seeing your vision come to life like this, especially now as a new mom?" Layla leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with interest.

Soriya's face softened. "It's surreal, honestly. There are days when I'm changing my baby's diaper, and then I'm on a Zoom call discussing new products, and ways to make it better. It's a constant juggling act, but it's also incredibly rewarding. 'Bloom' was always about empowering people and celebrating their natural beauty, and now, being a mom has only amplified that desire to create something positive."

"Speaking of your little one," Layla interjected smoothly, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Motherhood looks amazing on you. How has it been navigating the early days?"

Soriya chuckled, a fond look in her eyes. "Oh, it's been wild, my boy already got me on my toes! Sleep deprivation is a real thing, and I've learned a whole new level of multitasking. But honestly, the love you feel for your child is unlike anything else. Every little milestone, every tiny smile... it makes all the sleepless nights worth it."

Layla nodded sympathetically. "I hear you! It's a beautiful chaos. Now, Soriya, you've always been so open with your fans, and they adore you for it. So, let's address the elephant in the room, shall we?" Layla's eyes twinkled mischievously. "You got the internet talking! There have been some pretty strong rumors circulating about you and a certain professional wrestler..."

Soriya's cheeks flushed slightly, but she met Layla's gaze with a soft smile. "Girl I know, they be in my comments," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"So," Layla prompted, leaning closer to her microphone, "are the rumors true? Have you and Jey gotten engaged?"

Soriya took a breath, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she thought of Josh. "Yes," she confirmed, her voice filled with warmth. "The rumors are true. Jey and I are engaged."

A delighted gasp escaped Layla's lips. "Oh my goodness! Soriya, congratulations! That's wonderful news! Y'all look so good together."

"Thank you," Soriya said, her smile widening. "We're both incredibly happy. It's been a journey for sure, and becoming parents has only strengthened our bond."

"That's so lovely to hear," Layla said sincerely. "So, how did it happen?" sitting up a further, giving Soriya her full attention.

Soriya's eyes softened as she recalled the moment on the bridge. "It was perfect," she said, a dreamy quality to her voice. "It was a gorgeous night, we had just left dinner. It was just the two of us." She subtly touched the delicate ring on her finger. "He truly surprised me."

"Oh, that sounds absolutely beautiful!" Layla gushed. "Well, Soriya, on behalf of all your fans and everyone here at 'Beyond the Beauty,' we send you and Jey the warmest congratulations. It's wonderful to see two such amazing people find their forever with each other."

"Thank you so much, Layla," Soriya replied, her heart feeling full. "We're really excited about our future together."

"Now, before we wrap up," Layla continued, smoothly transitioning back to Soriya's brand, "tell us a little more about what's next for 'Bloom.' Any exciting new products or collaborations in the works?"

Soriya's professional demeanor returned instantly, her passion for her brand shining through. She launched into a discussion about her latest innovations, the engagement news now a sweet undercurrent to the conversation.

As the interview drew to a close, Layla turned to her listeners. "Ok, there y'all have it! The incredibly talented Soriya. Soriya, thank you so much for sharing your time with us today."

"Thank you for having me, Layla," Soriya said, her smile radiant.

As the microphones were switched off, Layla leaned over and gave Soriya a warm hug. "Congratulations again, sis! I'm so happy for you."

"Thank you," Soriya said, a genuine warmth spreading through her. Sharing her news felt like another beautiful step forward, a confirmation of the love that now anchored her world.

Soriya gathered her things, a lightheartedness buzzing in her chest. The interview had gone well, and now that the news was officially out, a wave of relief washed over her. As she stepped out of the studio and into the bustling Atlanta evening, her phone vibrated in her hand. A wide smile touched her lips when she saw Josh's name flash across the screen.

"Hey, baby," she answered, a playful lilt in her voice.

"What's up Ma, or should I say, my fiancé" Josh's voice, rich and warm, filled her ear. "speaking of fiancés, you finally let the news out, huh?"

Soriya chuckled, picturing his mischievous grin. "What can I say? Layla cornered me. Besides, it was bound to get out eventually, especially after that Instagram post."

"Oh, it's out, alright," he said, a mocking tone in his voice. "My phone has been blowing up. You should see social media. 'Damn, Soriya lucky!' 'Jey pulled a bad one!'" He mimicked the fan comments, making her laugh. "You broke the internet, ma. Think of the poor data plans."

"Don't pretend you ain't loving it, Jey," Soriya teased, knowing how much he secretly enjoyed the buzz.

"Aight, maybe a little," he conceded, a soft laugh rumbling. "But seriously, baby, I'm proud of you. That interview sounded great. You handled it like the queen you are."

His sincerity touched her heart. "Thanks, baby. It feels good to finally share it. It's... real now."

"It's always been real, Riya," he corrected gently, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone that sent a shiver down her spine. "Now get yo' fine ass home."

I'm really thinking about turning this into a full on story. Y'all let me know what you think below ♡

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[evans23]

An internship for a broken heart

Pairing : Severus Snape x Reader OC

Summary : An internship ! Him, Severus Snape, war hero, a survivor, a Potion Master had to follow an internship about empathy. Not because of the Minister of Magic. Worst than that : because of Minerva McGonagall. But empathy may not be that bad after all. 

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Mention of suicide. Suicide attempt. A little bit of angst. Mention of the war.

A/N : It's a request I got on Wattpad. Hope you enjoy !

Also read on AO3 Also read on Wattpad

An
internship ! A "teaching with empathy" internship. He, Severus Snape, the Potions Master, the "Saviour of the Wizarding World," a title bestowed by that harpy Rita Skeeter after that idiot Potter had thought of nothing better than revealing his memories to the world to clear his name, he who had received the Order of Merlin... had to return to school.

Humiliation was an understatement. But he couldn't avoid it. It wasn't an order from the Ministry. No, worse: it was an order from Minerva McGonagall, the Headmistress of Hogwarts. She had decided this internship was perfect for him, who had never tolerated children, given that the main topic was "empathy in and out of the classroom."

Severus would have told her that true empathy would have been to leave him alone. After all, wasn't he a survivor himself ? Much more than a war hero. He had survived loss, grief, allegiance, blackmail, a half-rebuilding he'd never truly been able to do since he'd been a spy for Dumbledore and Voldemort throughout his twenties and thirties. The real rebuilding was only beginning now, now that the war had been won.

Severus would be lying if he said he'd never hoped for a future in which he survived, but he was pragmatic. He'd understood early on that in Dumbledore's plan, where everyone was merely a pawn, he had little chance of checkmating the king. Yet, against all odds, he had survived. And after months of hospitalization, after wishing Potter, whom he had kept alive in Lily's memory, dead, a death he wouldn't have wished for if that idiot hadn't made him look weak by making public his difficult past and his love for his best friend, a love he had kept alive for his bespectacled son, after learning to walk, talk, and eat on his own again, the terrible truth had sunk in. He didn't know what to do with himself. At the time, he was 39, almost 40. Now, he was 42, almost 43.

He had known nothing but Hogwarts and having masters. All his life. And now that he was free to be his own master... he had chosen to return to Hogwarts. Because the demon he knew was far less frightening than the one he didn't know. The demon of the unknown. Having to, at 42, start all over again, try, perhaps fail... he wasn't sure he could bear it. So he had chosen comfort and accepted Minerva's offer to return to Hogwarts, not to teach Potions, but Defense Against the Dark Arts, as he had always wanted. He had carte blanche, and the Headmistress's trust had given him some comfort, at least at first.

After a few months, he had reverted to the bitter man who gave detentions like someone swallowing bitter coffee in the morning. A lonely man who could no longer even find refuge at Spinner's End since his house had been burned down by former Death Eaters on the run when they learned he had been nothing but a traitor all along. A man condemned to live at Hogwarts, the place that, twenty years earlier, he had hoped would become his refuge but which had always been his prison.

That morning, Severus was dressing, sighing heavily, thinking back to the letter he had received from Minerva. He had to be in London by 9:00 sharp, otherwise the house where the course was to take place would disappear until 9:00 the next day. And Minerva had insisted: this course was mandatory if he didn't want to return to his dungeons!

So it was with a heavy heart that Severus apparated to a dark alley in Finsbury before walking a few streets further to a dilapidated old building.

"Password ?" the door asked as he knocked three times, a pause, then five times as indicated on the letter.

"Sour gooseberry," Snape muttered, rubbing his temples.

The door then opened onto a wide, bright corridor. A sign indicated that the course would be held upstairs. Severus stepped up the old wooden staircase, which creaked with every step he took. The air smelled of lavender and polished wood, the place was clean, well-kept, and decorated with a very academic minimalism. It must have been a place often used by the Ministry for this kind of training, Severus thought. It wasn't uncommon for old buildings unused by Muggles to become wizards' property for their own small businesses. An arrangement between the Ministry of Magic and the Muggle Ministry had worked very well since the dawn of time. Not that the ministerial shenanigans interested Snape in the least.

Arriving on the first floor, Severus saw an open door with a pastel blue sign reading "Experimental Workshop: Teaching with the Heart - Empathy at the Heart of Our Lives: Reconnecting Magic to Emotion". He felt like throwing up but swallowed it with pride. Inside, there were no chairs or benches. No, instead, there was cushions in circles on a large midnight blue carpet covered with moving constellations. No one else was there. No wonder, it was only 8:20. Severus liked being on time. He liked not having to rush. He wished he were anywhere else but here. He quickly scanned the room, and besides the cushions and the magic carpet, a harp installed in a corner was playing diligently by itself. He hadn't expected much. This kind of training was often organized for anyone who had a foot in the muggle world: professors, ministry agents who had to deal with both worlds. He couldn't help but think with a sneer that Arthur Weasley must have come here more than once for some sort of nonsense like "mindfulness meditation" or "why muggles travel by car instead of broomstick." But now, all of a sudden, he was expecting Trelawney to arrive, her gangly demeanor, her oversized glasses, and a cup of tea in her hand, heralding someone's impending death.

"Hopefully mine," Severus grumbled, eyeing a bouquet of dried flowers from which emanated a strange scent of cinnamon.

At 8:45, three more participants arrived, each of them asking if this was where the "empathy" course was supposed to be held. There was a relaxation teacher for expectant mothers, a psychomage for gnomes, and a shapeshifter with emerald green hair who had been sent there by her employer after destroying the archive room, but according to her, it was either that or she cast an "avada kedavra" on her colleague.

At 8:55, four more people arrived, but still no sign of the teacher. What intrigued, or exasperated, Severus was that everyone seemed happy to be there, even the green-haired woman. Everyone except him, who would have preferred to relive the war and even Nagini's bite than to endure that torture.

At exactly 9:00, a young woman with shoulder-length dark brown hair and dull green eyes entered the classroom, cheerful, her cheeks a little rosy from having walked all the way there.

"Hello, I'm [Y/N], your teacher for the coming week," you said with genuine enthusiasm.

"It wasn't too early," Severus grumbled so the young woman would hear him.

"Class starts at 9:00 and I arrived at 9:00," you replied with a smile. "If I arrive at 8:59, I'm on time; if I arrive at 9:00, I'm on time; if I arrive at 9:01, then I'm late," you added, making the others in the room laugh.

Severus rolled his eyes but didn't say anything else. If she had been in his class, he would have given her detention until the end of the year. But he was the student, and thankfully, she couldn't give him detention. But being there was like being punished by cleaning cauldrons by hand, or worse, having to help Filch clean the castle... without the help of magic. But after a second thought, he wouldn't have said no to the idea of ​​being suspended by his toes from the ceiling of a classroom if it had spared him the trouble of being there.

You sat down in the middle of the circle of cushions, your midnight blue dress flowing fluidly around her as you invited the participants to sit down. They all looked at each other hesitantly before complying. Besides, it wasn't like they had a choice since there were no chairs.

You asked them to introduce themselves one by one, you asked a few questions, not too personal but enough to give the impression that you were interested in them, and the worst part was that you seemed genuinely interested. You listened, smiled a little too much, and gave them room to express themselves.

When it was his turn, Severus simply said his first name, last name, and profession.

"Professor Snape ! I read your treatise on elemental elixirs. It was very... straightforward," you said, still smiling, which made Severus roll his eyes so hard he thought for a moment they were going to get stuck in the back of his head.

"I'm glad you're here, Professor," you said, realising Severus wouldn't say anything else.

"I wasn't given a choice," he replied curtly.

"It doesn't matter, you're still here, and that's all that matters," you replied, barely fazed by the Potions Master's coldness.

And she began to explain what they would be doing this week. Not a question about the war, not a single comment on his supposed courage, his heroism, or Harry Potter. And that, Severus found, was more than refreshing.

With a snap of your fingers, you changed the atmosphere of the room a little more. The ceiling had taken on a midnight blue hue and stars andPlanets floated above their heads while the harp still played softly behind them.

"Well, today we're going to learn how to reconnect with ourselves. Because empathy begins with being gentle with yourself," you explained, sitting in the centre.

"I'm a teacher, no one expects gentleness from me," Severus said with a sneer.

"Don't you think your students would benefit from better teaching if you took the time to understand them ?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not a psychomage, I'm not here to heal their inner woes. I'm here to teach, to try to get things through their heads, and that's a very unrewarding struggle," he replied dryly.

"If only someone had reached out to the child you were," you simply replied.

Severus felt his blood run cold. It was a low blow. You knew that, of course. No one was ignorant of his past these days, and that was an unfair attack.

"Life isn't a plan, nor a straight line," you continued, as if you hadn't noticed Severus's confusion, "and empathy, gentleness, and tenderness are far more important feelings than rigour, discipline, and the perfect control that forces you to repress your thoughts."

You snapped your fingers again, and vials appeared in front of each of them. Inside, a reddish liquid was making small bubbles that exploded against the stopper.

"These are mood vials. We will be using organic magic today. Please place your saliva in them, and the liquid inside will react to your mood."

They all looked at each other, half nervous, half amused, all curious. Except Severus, of course. They watched you doing it before them. The liquid turned into a blue-green-polka-dotted : serenity. Very quickly, the others followed suit. One vial turned blue with small waves crashing against the sides of the bottle : nervousness. Another turned orange : hesitation. A third turned brown and made a small swirl : the student was hungry, which he confirmed by saying he hadn't had time to eat breakfast.

When Severus's turn came, he hesitated, complied, and... nothing. The liquid remained red, the small bubbles still bursting on the surface. Everyone's faces turned towards you.

"Interesting," you said. "Your feelings are locked away," you added attentively.

"This kind of magic is fickle, it can't be trusted," Severus replied, closing the vial.

"No, not at all. This magic has proven itself. But... it takes longer for some people. Maybe because they don't know themselves very well."

You walked away without adding anything. You could feel the reluctance seeping through his entire being. You continued with a relaxation workshop, then each of you shared a memory, a moment when they had truly felt like themselves. Everyone had something to say : a victory, a failure, a new beginning. Everyone except Snape. No matter how hard he searched his memory, nothing came to him. Nothing except Lily. With her, he had felt like himself, but that belonged to him. Well, it had belonged to him. The story was known to everyone now, and precisely what little remained of him, he refused to share. But then a cruel realization struck him: Before Lily, he wasn't; after her, he was no more.

He had never really existed. An abomination to his father, invisible to his mother, who endured the beatings and never stood up for him. A freak bullied at Hogwarts. A Death Eater used for his wit and intelligence. Dumbledore's pawn. He had been a colleague, a protector, once a friend, often an enemy. But he had never existed, not even to himself.

He didn't speak, and no one forced him to, and for that, he was grateful to you.

At the end of class, you handed out a small, pastel-coloured scented card with a runic inscription on one side and a handwritten quote on the other. Severus's read: "The most powerful potions are often those we haven't yet dared to brew."

Severus stuffed the card into his pocket and left while the others lingered around the small table where tea and cakes had appeared.

On the second day, the classroom was transformed into a cream-coloured room. There were still cushions on the floor, but no more carpets decorated with constellations, and the ceiling was covered with plants and butterflies fluttering all around. The theme of the day was the art of "slow living." How to slow down, how to enjoy each day a little, how to reconnect with yourself". The day seemed endless to Severus, unbearable even. But he endured it, and in the end, he found himself paying attention to what he ate, to the texture, the taste, the smell.And in the evening, he took longer than usual to enjoy his tea while reading a book. A novel, a real one, not a potions book, not a book for learning. No, a Dickens novel that Minerva had lent him so long ago that he'd come to consider the book his rather than hers.

The third day... the third day was hell.

The classroom had changed again. The walls were ivory, the lavender drapes resembled curtains from ancient Rome. There was a light breeze, glowing crystals levitated above their heads, and there was a smell of incense and wood, a heady, ancient scent.

You were already there, hair down, frowning as you wrote in a notebook. When you saw him, you closed it and stood up, smiling.

"Professor, welcome. Always early."

"Is that your real job ? Teaching empathy ?" he asked without preamble.

You smiled. His frankness didn't disarm you. You appreciated him. You often had two kinds of students in front of you: those who were truly interested in what you offered, and those who were interested in parallel magic, more focused on nature, energy, and moods. Others made fun of you behind your back. But you didn't care. You loved what you did. It had allowed you to find yourself, to ground yourself, and to appreciate your existence.

"I was an auror before," you replied without batting an eyelid.

But Severus opened his eyes a little wider, clearly surprised.

"Were you expelled ?" he asked without mocking.

"Worse, I quit."

"Why ? There isn't a single little idiot I teach who doesn't fantasize about becoming an auror."

"Well, actually, reality is much more disappointing than fantasy. And before the war, before the return of Vo... well, you-know-who, there weren't many honest auror. The whole system was corrupt. Everything ran on bribes, forced smiles, and hypocritical words. And me... well, I didn't know how to play the game. When the dark wizard began to return to power, Alastor Moody took me under his wing. He was always on the right side, always sincere, always honest. And he understood before I did. Or at least he understood what I was desperately hiding from myself : being an auror made me unhappy."

"Well, who would have thought Mad Eye could empathize," Snape mocked.

"He probably saved my life. A mudblood auror would have been killed when the Death Eaters took over the Ministry."

Severus shuddered at the sound of that word. Mudblood. He hated that word. The word that had shattered his friendship with Lily, the only person who'd ever seen him. But you were right, you would have been executed at best, at worst... at worst you would have been their plaything.

"Well, I stopped before the war, to tell the truth. Four years before. I... wandered a bit. Thanks to Alastor, I got another job, but... it still wasn't me, and then there was... well, then I had to reinvent myself."

That hesitation, that moment when you almost revealed something before catching yourself, made Severus realize you were hiding something. You had your own secrets, your own demons. But he didn't have time to analyse you any further; the others were arriving.

When they sat down on the cushions, the crystals began to glow even brighter.

"Today, we will explore the echo of memories, what remains when words fade," you said, grabbing one of the crystals.

The crystal rose slightly above your palm, vibrated, and then the image of a child sitting on a bench in a schoolyard, a tear on her cheek, appeared. A flower was held out to her, then the image disappeared.

"Each person will share a memory. Something that has left a lasting impression on you. About yourself, someone else. It doesn't matter. Then you will have to convey the emotion to your partner. Professor Snape, you will work with me," you said without looking at him, as if it were necessary.

Severus was about to protest, but he changed his mind. After all, it was better to have you than one of those geeks with eyes shining with excitement at the thought of playing with crystals.

Severus came to sit opposite you, and suddenly, the murmurs around you stopped. A magical bubble surrounded you, isolating you from the rest of the class, as it did everyone else.

"I'll start," you whispered, eyes half-closed, "several years ago, I practiced a form of ancient magic with my best friend. He was Swedish, it was old magic, magic used by his ancestors. Not dark magic, but a dangerous form if poorly mastered. And we didn't master it very well. He was hurt, and his family never forgave me. They accused me of having forced him to do it, they accused me of being the one who hurt him, and in the end, even him didn't want to talk to me anymore. Yet, it was he who had asked me to do this with him, I had never heard of this old Scandinavian magic before. But it awakened something ancient, something painful in him. I learned later that this magic allowed us to store the magic of all our ancestors, and his ancestors weren't all good. It took him years to find himself, to find peace."

You fell silent and watched Severus. He was looking you toroughly. He found you at peace despite this revelation.

"Your turn, Professor," you said, smiling.

He froze. You handed him a crystal, and a memory formed in it. Him, as a young man, being slapped in front of his mother, who watched the scene horrified but said nothing. Then it was his mother's turn as the young boy retreated to a corner of the room. Then nothing, the vision dissipated.

"You haven't really made peace with your past either," you whispered, looking at him, tears brimming your eyelashes.

Severus was speechless, then he sat up suddenly, breaking their bubble of solitude. He looked around and saw everyone else still immersed in their exercises, oblivious to the outside world.

"Professor, everything Are you okay ?" you asked.

"I want you to leave my memories alone," he hissed through his teeth. "The world already knows too much. And you're not a psychomage; I don't care about your fanciful ideas, your crazy and stupid magic. Don't probe me again or touch my memories, or I swear to discover all of yours without your permission," he added harshly.

He left the classroom without you trying to stop him. You shuddered. You didn't doubt for a single second that he could use Legilimency against you without qualms. Yet you hadn't forced him to share this memory with you. Crystals didn't steal memories; they were only catalysts that revealed what you were willing to let them reveal. You hadn't shown them; you had chosen to share them orally. He hadn't known how to express himself and had let you see. And now he regretted having done it, having had that moment of weakness.

At the end of the class, all the students were a little shaken, but also calmed. The only one who left angry was Severus, and you could easily guess why. You had thought that by opening up a little about your past, he He would feel more confident, he would see your vulnerability and accept his own. But Severus Snape was a breed apart, a breed perhaps impossible to tame.

You gave all your students a small magic pouch so they could relax and apply what they had learned in class over the weekend. Tomorrow was Friday, but you weren't teaching. Fridays had been your day for several years, the day you enjoyed your hobbies, your cat, the park you loved to walk in late afternoon, and where you sat until the sun went down. It was the day you ate fish and chips in a small, unassuming restaurant on a picturesque Cambridge street that seemed to be completely unknown to students, and where you sipped a glass of rosé while reading a classic of English literature on your balcony, a blanket on your lap, some classical music playing in the background, and sometimes your father rambling on beside you. when he missed his TV series. Yes, you didn't sacrifice him on Fridays anymore, not since you almost sacrificed yourself.

Friday. A day of peace. A day when he wasn't supposed to go to that damned training. How he had hated himself, cursed himself the day before for letting that memory slip away. He, the master of Occlumency, hadn't been able to control himself. You had managed to coax him with your big, expressive eyes, your kindness, your sincerity. And he hated you for it. Or he hated himself, he wasn't sure anymore.

He walked back into his classroom, straight and strict, and even the portraits fell silent as he passed while the students stood up as one. The students could sense that today was a day when they would have to be even calmer and more attentive than usual if they didn't want to finish the year cleaning dungeons with a toothbrush.

"Sit down and open your book, page 578. Today we're going to study vampires. Real vampires, not the nonsense Muggles write in their expensive books."

"Vampires don't glow, then ?" a shy voice asked.

Severus looked murderously at a young girl with blond pigtails. Jessica Anderson. A naive mind. He sighed loudly, wondering how even Muggles could have tolerated such an aberration. Anne Rice, she had been able to portray the true behaviour of vampires... probably because she had one in her bed, or at least it wasThe rumour that had been circulating for decades in the magical world, and which Dumbledore had partially confirmed one evening while they were listening to chamber music and discussing the year that was about to begin and with it the arrival of Harry, who had just learned he was a wizard.

"No, Miss Anderson, vampires don't glow, and if by any chance you ever meet one, never have the audacity to ask them such a silly thing," Severus replied curtly, waving his wand to close the shutters.

But he had surprised himself by not deducting a point from hufflepuff. By not getting angry. By glaring at Alexander McIntyre for mocking the young girl. And later, when another student answered incorrectly, instead of getting angry or sharply correcting him, he saw your face, heard your gentle voice say, "It's by making mistakes that we learn. As long as we're gentle. And gentleness begins with ourselves." Instead, he heard himself ask another question to give the student the opportunity to find the answer for himself. The boy seemed taken aback, cautiously gave a slightly more accurate answer, Severus asked another question, and this time the correct answer came to him immediately.

That afternoon, with another group working on complex spells, he observed a ravenclaw student make a rookie mistake, but instead of exploding, Severus watched him, and to his surprise, with the help of a Slytherin girl, the Ravenclaw student corrected himself. And suddenly it hit him: one student's empathy had helped another understand his mistake and correct it.

So that evening, a glass of fire whiskey in one hand, your crystal in the other, he thought back to the previous day's exercise, the memory he'd let slip, his past. He thought back to his father, a weak, violent muggle who had made him hate muggles. He thought back to his years at Hogwarts, the mockery, the bullying, the harassment, James Potter and his gang humiliating him again and again, to Lily Evans who had mocked him that day when he received the ultimate humiliation and how he'd lost it in a moment of uncontrollable anger. Because of that little smile she'd given when James and his clique had mocked him and that had irritated him more than anything else. He thought back to all his mistakes, and Merlin knew there were many. He thought back to Potter, to the unfair contempt he'd shown for that little brat who looked a little too much like James... but also like him. Except Harry had been luckier than him. He'd arrived at Hogwarts and made friends, he'd found a loving family, support from his teachers. He hadn't been given that, and even though he didn't want to make excuses for it, it had led him into the arms of Lord Voldemort. A dangerous madman who had led him to believe that by his side, he would become something.

But hadn't he paid enough for all his mistakes ? Hadn't he tried to redeem himself again and again? Wasn't it unfair that some people accused him of doing it too late ? That he only did it because of Lily's death and not because he truly wanted to see good triumph ?

Was he the only man to have been tempted by the devil, to have held his hand, before he made him pay a price far too high and he finally opened his eyes ? Did he deserve eternal damnation for having been a little too human, a little too vulnerable, a little too alone ?

He began to wish for that peace you kept talking about. The one you said you'd found. And he also found himself wanting to know more about you, to know what lay behind your calmness, which you claimed was new.

He finished his glass of whiskey in one gulp, shook his head vigorously as if to expel all his thoughts, and grumbled to himself, "It's just an internship, it'll pass."

But deep down, he wasn't sure. Because the dull green eyes of a certain witch with a constant, sincere smile never ceased to haunt him. You weren't Lily. You were you. And for the first time, he thought of another person without making comparisons. For the first time, another person had seen him for who he was.

On Monday, class took place in a clearing. Reconnecting with nature, with oneself, taking a break, listening. The weather was nice and not too hot; it was almost pleasant. At the end of class, as the students apparated home, Severus lingered. He lingered because he'd noticed something. You had touched a rune stone and the stone had lit up slightly. That only happened when you were able to wield old magic. Old magic from Scandinavia.

"I thought it was your best friend who was Swedish."" Severus said in a neutral voice.

You jumped, thinking he'd already left.

"Indeed."

"But the stone reacted when you touched it."

You lowered your head, trapped.

"I was muggle-born," you began, "but... I developed a... powerful magic. Maybe I have wizarding ancestors, for all I know. Anyway, that day, when I... when my best friend and I played with that old magic, something awakened in me. Like an imbalance. Sometimes I can suck out someone else's magic. It's not involuntary. It requires concentration. It's powerful, exhausting. That's why Mad Eye wanted me to leave. Not because I was miserable being an auror, not because my impure blood was dangerous to me. Because if the Dark Lord had known, he could have used it."

"Are you a vortex?" Severus said, fascinated.

He had already heard of this kind of magic, of wizards capable of temporarily absorbing the powers of others. It was dangerous. Sometimes deadly.

"That's why I was banished from my best friend's family, and why he himself never wanted to see me again. This magic is inherited, and it's inherited from bad wizards."

"You said you were muggle-born," he argued.

"Yes, my parents are Muggles. But I don't know my ancestors. There could very well be an old shaman who made a pact with the spirits of his ancestors. Maybe a great-great-great-grandmother who practiced black magic."

You looked into his eyes and, with a silent incantation, made him enter your mind.

A snowy forest, rune stones around you and a young man, a fire, leaves dancing above your heads. And suddenly, an uncontrollable wind, trees catching fire, the young man's body frozen, his eyes bulging.

"She's out of control, we have to stop her," a voice shouts.

An older man arrives, grabs you by the waist, muttering incantations in Old Norse. He's your best friend's brother, the young man whose powers you just stole.

Another scene: your best friend is lying down, he's better, you no longer have his powers; he's regained them. He's not looking at you. His mother, a powerful witch, asks you to to leave, never to return. Your gift is dangerous. Even more so in the presence of his sons who are capable of manipulating runic magic.

Back in the present, Severus is watching you. He sees you. He really sees you. You are livid. You slowly roll up the sleeves of your sweater. Two scars, one on each arm. They are pale, old.

"I wanted to die," you whisper. "I was so afraid of who I was that I wanted to die. I wanted to die because people didn't trust me. Even Alastor Moody was afraid of me."

Severus swallowed hard.

"And then, I found another way, a way to stay grounded, to be myself. To forgive myself and to tolerate myself. To endure existence. I know my lessons make you smile. But if they can help at least one person, then I'm happy."

"I'm not afraid of you," Severus said after a silence.

"No, of course not," you said, smiling softly.

"We all have secrets... well, except me," he added

Your smile widened a little.

"I'm sure you still do. What Harry revealed to the world was only the surface, not the iceberg."

Severus watched you for a long time. Contemplated. And something inside him warmed. You were more. More than the kind, energetic, and positive little witch who gave "reconnecting with oneself" classes. You had a troubled past, you were more than what you showed the world, and above all, you believed in what you were doing because it had helped you. Saved you, perhaps.

"And how are you doing now ? To master this magic ?"

You shrugged casually.

"I learned. With Dumbledore, a little."

Obviously, with Dumbledore. That old pain in the ass was always interfering in everything, and sometimes, often if Severus was honest, for the best.

"And then with an old wizard in Portugal. I stayed there for three years. There, I learned alternative magic, I learned to appreciate myself, to forgive myself. Then I came back, and thanks to a few contacts, I got this job. I know it makes people laugh, some of them are happy making fun of me, I know that few people believe in what I do, but I like it. It's not what vibrated with me when I was younger, but I finally found something to nourish my soul. It allows me to travel a little, to see people, to share."

And to be less alone. You thought very hard without daring to say it out loud.

"And you, didn't you ever want to do anything else ? I mean... after the war, you could have gone to the ends of the earth."

Severus swallowed. You had a way of understanding people, of asking the right questions, and he didn't know if he loved it or hated it.

"I... Well, the terrible truth is that I didnn't even know who I was anymore. So trying to build something... Staying at Hogwarts was easier."

"Is it still?"

"Today, today that I can choose and I chose to stay at Hogwarts... it seems less burdensome. I got the job I wanted. I can teach however I want as long as I don't throw any students through the window. I can... be me. Almost."

"And that's a lot," you murmured, watching a titmouse take flight.

That evening, for the first time, the silence was full, but soothing. Severus hadn't felt this way in so long that he couldn't have named the moment.

Sitting in a plush armchair in his rooms at Hogwarts, he leafed through a book. A book on alternative magic. On vortex magic. He thought of you. Your smiles, your silences. Your simple beauty, which didn't particularly stand out, but which was yours and that was enough. You weren't faking anything. Everything about you was natural. You were real.

For him, for a long time, too long, people had been nothing but shadows, air currents. But you didn't disappear. You weren't temporary. You had, in so few days, clung to his mind like no one before. Finally Yes, like just one other person. And that said a lot about what he thought of you, about the esteem he had for you, about what he saw in you.

You had let him glimpse your wounds without thinking, and it had affected him more than he wanted to admit. You had, without knowing it, shaken him up, and he hadn't even realized it until tonight.

And for a moment, he thought it was maybe time to let someone else into his life. He was almost afraid to think the word, and yet, he wanted a friend. Or more. He wanted someone to confide his sorrows to, his fears to, to talk about the past without fear of being judged, without anyone jumping to conclusions because everyone thought they knew. He didn't want pity, he wanted sharp clarity, he didn't want his ego stroked, he wanted someone to listen to him, He didn't want to be extinguished anymore; he wanted your light.

You weren't asleep. The window was wide open, letting in a welcome breeze. It was muggy, and you were sipping ginger tea and nibbling on chocolate-filled biscuits your neighbour had brought as a thank you for looking after his dog while he was on holiday in Brighton.

Your toes brushed against the plush carpet, bats danced strangely in the trees across the street, and your mind was mesmerized. Not by the beauty of the night, but by him. Severus Snape. The Potions Master. The hero without whom the war would probably never have been won.

You hadn't planned this. You'd grown attached to students before, but never like this. You'd always known how to keep your distance, set boundaries, separate your personal life from your work. Come, teach, help, leave.

But not this time.

He had touched you without You can't say why. Of course, you knew his story, or at least what the newspapers had said, and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't borrowed a colleague's book, that unofficial biography written by Rita Skeeter.

He had that special aura. He wasn't pleasant, he wasn't handsome, but he was charismatic nonetheless. He wasn't afraid to speak his mind, always subtly, often sharply. He was made of silence, but silences that screamed what he didn't dare say. He seemed made of rock, but he was nothing but hurt and fatigue.

You were looking for his remarks, his provocations; you liked it when he challenged you, pushed you to your limits, looked for the flaw to see if you had mastered your subject.

And then there were your secrets. A first shared memory, a second. You would have gladly slapped yourself. Not that you You were ashamed of your past, not because it was a state secret. Just because you weren't supposed to share it with your students. It belonged to you, and apart from your father, no one knew. Your friends wouldn't have understood. Although your father hadn't understood either, but not because he didn't want to or because he was too closed-minded. He was a Muggle, he couldn't understand it.

Severus... Severus hadn't been afraid of you. He hadn't judged you. He had seen, he had welcomed you, perhaps indifferently, but you had liked it.

You wondered what was happening to you. You couldn't feel any feelings. Not for him. Not because he was your student; the day after tomorrow he wouldn't be. Because he wasn't nice, he wasn't easy, he wasn't one to reassure. But it was precisely because he He didn't try to please, because he was a little battered, proud, and too frank that he upset you.

The next morning, Severus woke up early, as usual. A pale light pierced through the curtains. It was the last day of this damned internship. But strangely, he didn't feel relieved.

He got up slowly, drank some black coffee, took a shower, got dressed, looked at himself in the mirror, wondered if it wasn't time to do something about his crooked teeth before shrugging. It had never bothered him, it wasn't going to start now.

He arrived early, as usual, his face drawn, his shoulders tense. Today was the last day, but he wasn't sure he wanted it to be the end.

You arrived right on time. You too felt drawn. You had gotten up earlier than usual, your heart beating a little too fast. You drank jasmine tea, read a chapter of your book, took a skin-peeling hot shower, ate a piece of cake you'd quickly bought from the Muggle bakery down the street, and Apparated to your classroom.

But for the first time in a long time, you weren't anchored to your own reality. You had one foot in someone else's.

Today, the classroom was bright and calm, as always. The day was simple: a personal essay on what empathy meant, how it could be applied in everyday life, in your work, and how you could be empathetic toward yourself.

And that was it. The class ended. Everyone went home. But it wasn't over yet.

Severus had come home that evening in a foul mood. Everyone understood, and all the students did their best to avoid him.

He didn't even try to ignore why he was so angry. It was your fault. But he wasn't good at social interaction, at making friends. And at his age, it wasn't a skill he could acquire. Yet, at his age, he felt more than ever the need to not be alone.

Before, it didn't haunt him, because before, he hadn't thought he'd live to be old. But he was still here, and suddenly, he didn't want to be alone anymore. But he'd missed the boat. Or at least that's what he thought. Fate, without him knowing it, was planning a little trick for him.

A week later, he was still thinking about you, at the internship. He sometimes heard your voice when he wanted to tell off a student. He breathed deeply, remembering all the times he'd been ignored, when his heart had been hurt as a child, then as a teenager, and he forced himself not to be too sharp, too incisive. It always surprised the students, but they were smart enough not to push their luck.

And then, during a faculty meeting, Minerva announced that wellness workshops would be held at the castle. A request from the Ministry, which wanted to take care of the mental health of students, teachers, and the wizarding world in general. It hadn't been often discussed in their world; it often took a back seat; it was a muggle thing according to some wizards. But not anymore; now they understood the importance of taking care of oneself, of one's mind. It must be said that the war had left many souls wounded.

And in a corner of his mind, Severus thought that you could be there. And when the big day arrived, he realised he hadn't been mistaken : you were there.

You offered mood filters, meditation exercises, advice on how to live more honestly with yourself, and calming stones. He watched you from a corner of the Great Hall. You were the same, smiling, kind, calm, gentle.

"I'd like to try a mood filter," a voice you knew all too well said coldly.

You looked up a little too quickly. Severus. You smiled and handed him a bright red vial that was bubbling. He opened it under the gaze of two stunned gryffindors and a ravenclaw, and added a little saliva. The vial turned purple. Your blood froze. So did his.

"A mistake," he murmured, "this magic is unreliable."

"What does that mean?" asked the young Ravenclaw.

"Nothing," you answered a little too quickly.

A glare from Severus made them disappear, and he turned back to you.

"Are you going to stay for tonight's quidditch match?" he asked.

"I don't really like quidditch," you said, almost snatching the bottle from his hands.

"It's gryffindor versus slytherin, it should be interesting," Severus simply replied.

You smiled. It was his way of insisting. Subtly. Not saying he wanted you to stay.

"Do I have to support a particular team ?"

"Slytherin, of course," Severus replied with a smirk.

"Green doesn't suit me."

"I hate red."

"I guess I could make the effort to wear a scarf."

"Fine, I'll bring you one tonight."

And he left without saying anything, as if the deal was sealed. You couldn't help but smile. It was the strangest invitation you'd ever been offered. And you hadn't even accepted. Not really.

By the end of the day, you'd taken your things home, taken a quick shower, chosen a dark blue tunic, tried on the emerald green one, and finally settled on the dark mauve one with the lavender flowers embroidered on the sleeve, and returned to Hogwarts.

Severus was waiting for you outside the apparition area. He handed you a scarf with his house colours and blazon on it without saying anything, and you tied it around your neck with a smile.

"I'm... I'm glad to see you again," he said without looking at you as he led you toward the quidditch pitch.

"Me too."

He stopped suddenly and turned to you. You were at the back of the castle, a quieter route to the pitch, a pitch where you weren't likely to encounter too many ignorant dunderhead.

"I'm not good at it," he said coldly.

"Okay," you replied cautiously.

"I mean... this. The... relationships."

"We have a relationship ?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He sighed heavily. You definitely weren't going to make this easy for him. 

"I'd like... I..."

"I'm not good at making friends either," you interrupted, "I seem to be breezing through my social interaction, but it's only an illusion."

He watched you for a moment, and time seemed to stand still. Severus paled a little.

"I don't really know what I want. But I want to try," he said in one breath, a little too quickly.

"Good," you replied, smiling. A soft smile, not triumphant.

"I could make the effort... If you teach me."

"I have a better idea," you said, full of fragile courage, "we could learn together."

He closed his eyes for a second, as if the words were seeping into him with a gentle warmth he hadn't felt in a long time in his too-cold heart.

"I'm not an easy man. I'm not tender, I don't recite cheap poetry, I'm not romantic, and I'll probably forget important dates," he said suddenly, as if he suddenly wanted to discourage you.

"Good. I like poetry, I'm gentle, I like displays of affection, and I have a very good memory; I'll remember all the important dates."

"My father was a muggle. He taught me to hate muggles."

"My father is a muggle. He'll teach you to appreciate them."

"I'm sarcastic, and we'll argue a lot."

"At least we won't be bored."

"I didn't learn to love."

"Me neither. We'll learn together. And you won't hurt me. Because that's how relationships work. You learn to compromise to take care of each other."

"We're not a couple," his voice snapped.

"Not yet," you replied with a mischievous smile.

He was about to retort, but you didn't give him the chance. Instead, you placed your hands on either side of his face and, before he could react, you pressed your lips to his. It was sweet, your mouth tasting of cinnamon and chocolate, his a bitter taste, a perfect blend of sweet and bitter.

When you released his face, he pulled away, stunned.

"Oops," you said, laughing, "I think we're a couple now."

"Definitely not !"

"No, you're right. We have to learn first. Get to know each other better. Slowly. At our own pace."

"What if it doesn't work ?" Severus asked hesitantly.

"Worse still, imagine it does ?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, gripped by a dull pang of anxiety.

"Severus," you breathed.

He fixed his onyx eyes on yours, and you shuddered, but you didn't let it get you down.

"We'll go at our own pace. We don't need to get married tomorrow and imagine our future ten years from now. We move slowly. We test. We see what works, what doesn't. We build, we try, we fail, we start again."

"And if we succeed ?"

"Then we grow old together."

"What if..."

"Severus," you interrupted, "what if you stopped thinking for a moment ? What if you started living?"

He pondered your words for a moment. What if he started living ?

Yes, maybe it was finally time for that to happen. For him to heal the wounded child who had never really existed, forced to grow up too empty, to become an adult prematurely to protect himself from his father, to forget that his mother, his mother who was the witch, who had the power, had never defended him.

He owed it to the tortured, bullied teenager who had made one bad choice, a single bad choice that had shattered his entire life.

He owed it to the adult who had belonged to two different masters, trapped in a situation he had voluntarily submitted. With the first, because he had been promised power, to finally be seen, he whom he had always been ignored and despised. The second, to redeem himself, to prove that he was worth more than what he had always been seen to be.

He owed it to himself, to the survivor he was, who finally deserved a little peace. A little love.

So, a little too abruptly, he leaned down and captured your lips with his.

"Don't count on me to make your coffee in the morning," he said, resting his forehead against yours.

"Good, I hate coffee. Oh, and I have a cat."

"Better and better."

He took your hand, released it, picked it up again, and led you to the stands where he released it again.

"The purple liquid, what does that mean?" he suddenly asked, helping you sit up.

"What do you think ?" you replied mischievously, knowing that he already had a clue.

"Oh, by Merlin, don't say anything."

"Lo..."

"Shut up," he hissed, looking around to make sure no one was listening.

"Flowering love," you said quickly, laughing softly.

He rolled his eyes, holding back a smile.

Life had offered him a second chance. He had greeted it with bitterness, with condescension. But now, the universe was granting him more than a second chance. And for the first time in a long time, he felt something he had long forgotten. Happiness.