#its a cool long term thing to give you a bit of routine and something yummy to look forward to :3333

[tony-andonuts]

And now we wait

[criibibi]

Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Prev; Next;

Chapter 4 - Calm Before the Storm

With the beginning of a new day it was like the calm before the storm. You stood up pretty late at night, making your way to a center, luckily they didn’t push for information knowing your situation is a dime a dozen around these parts.

Thank god. Though you did debate giving them your name or even a nickname, you decided against it. After all, you’re not staying here long term, you don’t need to cement your name here. Not as a civilian, or as spider-woman.

You shouldn’t even be here. You don’t belong here.

After having a fresh meal, bless the hearts of the passionate people out there giving out kindness like air, fix yourself up, and return to your makeshift home to decompress.

The cold air nipping at your face cools you off, making you vigilant of your surroundings. Quiet, a bit too quiet. Gotham isn’t known for its silence after all. Pushing the uncomfortable feelings aside, you decide to call it a night.

Making significant progress on your watch became your saving grace. The anchor of your sanity.

So the first thing you did in the morning was quickly get a nice breakfast at a shelter before dedicating your time to building the beacon until nightfall.

The voices in your head were getting restless so you even fixed up a radio you found in the piles of junk just to have a noise buzz in the background.

Days, you spent days inside this safezone you made a shelter out of. Two days to be exact. With how limited and unlimited your resources are, you had no time to waste. You had your own world to get back to, and help Miguel stop the Spot. Every day you spend here is costing you so much already. But you keep going, because you know you’re making progress.

Your routine was mostly some time in the morning, eat and wash up at any center, and go straight back to the junkyard. Snack for lunch and for dinner, back at another center. You make sure to hop around so as to not draw attention or to get familiar with anyone.

You don’t belong. Pretender, faker, liar, fraud, phony, sham.

You know that better than anyone else. You feel like a fraud. This world is like a different color pallet, monochromatic to you. You can’t stain this world with your presence.

You’re getting nauseous just thinking about it.

When taking some semblance of a break, you usually take walks to calm your mind in the morning, where crime is least likely to occur. And so far, you’re right!

Though there were a few (three) instances of muggers, and a drug dealer. Though you did stop (and robbed) them, but not as spider-woman, just as normal (fake) civilian you.

Those were the one’s just in your way or happening to you. Other than that, you have not put on the spider-woman suit to fight crime.

Why would you?

You were about to return home soon, if everything ends well. And it seems like luck is on your side since you have not caught a glimpse or heard any of the batsonas nearby. This also gave you hope.

So, how do you celebrate your near completion of your super secret science project?

Well, with ice-cream and a place of destination for your super secret science project!

So off to the library you go!

Finishing your ice-cream, you take in a breath of the polluted air of Gotham and make your way towards the library.

It was silent, and tranquil. Something you weren’t able to feel for some time. No big baddies escaping Arkham, no terrorist attacks, no bombing threats, no bat encounters, nothing. Just silence, and peace. And you embrace it with everything you have.

Your constant tense body finally felt itself ease as your stress levels went down.

Entering the library and once again greeting the librarian, you made your way back to the same seat you did days ago. With a clear mind, you browse the maps and possible locations for your beacon.

Finding a couple of very good locations, you made sure to memorize the landmarks and streets so you can pick the closest one.

You were giddy! Basically shaking in excitement. Tonight is the night! You just need to tweak a few things and you would be good to go! You would finally have a signal that can ping your location! And if you have time, you will be able to message Miguel through your signal.

With excitement, you quickly left the library and made your way back to the junkyard. Days of your blood sweat and tears, will all finally pay off your desperation to go back home.

Just a couple of adjustments.

Running into the warehouse, you turned on the radio and began to work.

Hours upon hours and you finally managed to get something done. It might have looked like a baby’s school robotics science project but hey! Ya got something at least!

You made something fast, not pretty.

Now, to connect his baby to a power source that won’t reveal your location- god knows you don’t need the bats up on your ass. If you trusted this world more, maybe you would have gone to Batman/Bruce Wayne first. But you know that- one, that idea is garbage at best, that’s how you would most likely get your cute ass locked at Arkham. And two, you know for a fact that Batman doesn’t trust metahumans or something- and you having enhanced powers in your fucking DNA, makes you the paranoid one.

You don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, especially the Batman’s. It just boils down to, you don’t trust him or his brood of sidekicks. That and the fact that if you could do it by yourself then you will.

And you’re already doing it. Ha! Take that universe!

This was a job for spider-woman. Changing into your suit, you hurriedly carried your mini beacon, and soared through buildings to find an appropriate source of electricity. You know you don’t have the right technology (you’re using scraps for fuck sake) to create an effective and accurate signal, but with this little baby, you should be able to send out a general area ping.

This way, for anyone who is looking for you (you fucking hope so) they can lock into a general area of the multiverse.

You are holding onto hope you get discovered soon.

Landing on top of a random construction site, you made quick work setting your things up. Connecting the cable to your beacon, and one towards your watch, you use the last cable and walk over a power generator.

This is it, this is where you’ll finally finally have a semblance of a chance to leave this universe. You just want to go home. You don’t exist here, you checked when scrolling through the web.

Not someone who looks like you- or a spider-woman either. You don’t belong here, and you never had the intention to play pretend either. This world isn’t your problem and you aren’t needed. So, now you’ll ping your location and go home.

Your very own emergency distress signal.

You plug your cable in the generator and it causes a power surge.

You pray to be discovered.

-

“B! It’s happening again!” Oracle’s alarmed voice caused Batman to head out immediately. “But this time it’s different!”

“Same place?” Hopping into his batmobile he sped off. “Different how?”

“No, this time it’s in the Narrows. A construction site twenty minutes from your location. It’s pinging like crazy!” Oracle couldn’t understand what was happening.

It had been a regular Thursday night until she got a ping of another disturbance. Not quite the ‘quantum disturbance’ like a few days ago, but then it was the flickering power surge. She was quick this time, getting an accurate location and with Batman on the way, they’ll find out what this is.

“It’s definitely the same as a few days ago, but not big enough, not strong enough. Causing a power surge!”

The surge only lasted ten seconds. Ten seconds too long. Then silence and all the light and energy came flickering back in that area.

“Robin’s close, he’s on his way B.” As if nothing had happened. Oracle wasted no time in finding cameras to see the situation. But the ripple effect caused security cameras to shut down for the duration of the surge. “Shit. Cameras are down- can’t find anyone in or out.”

“Hm.” Batman grunted. This was a grunt of annoyance.

Upon arriving on the scene, Batman made his way through the partially completed construction site. There stood only one other figure, and it was Robin.

“There was no sign of the perpetrator when I got here.” He spoke, his fixed glare at the spot where the ping was the strongest. “I surveyed the surroundings, nothing.” Frustration was clear in his voice and clenched teeth.

This confirms what Oracle said through the comms.

Batman sighed. Whatever was here, left just as quickly. This means that whatever caused a quantum disturbance days ago, is still here. In his city. In Gotham. And when he finds them, he’ll make sure to squeeze out every bit of information they possess.

He won’t take any chances of possible alien life force coming and going as they please.

“We’re not completely at a loss.” His words caught Robin’s attention, so he continued. “That means whoever did this is still here. It wasn’t as big as the other one, which means the recreation was not enough. Whoever or whatever it is, is still here.”

Robin processed the information and affirmed. “Understood. Means they will try again. And soon.” Robin makes sure to ping this area as a priority zone.

Batman nodded. He will find whoever is behind this. No matter the costs.

Nothing will escape their watch.

-

“No! No no nonono!”

Just as you plugged in the cable to the generator a huge surge of power came through, quickly to find a connection.

Your watch sprang to life, a bright screen greeted you and quickly you sprung to action. Seeing the universe number glitch but readable.

Finding a smidgen of a connection, you started calling Miguel; it couldn't even connect.

You wanted to sob.

“Miguel! Miguel please please see this! Please please please!” Then the connection went out and the watch turned black.

You felt like your whole world was crashing down on you.

You tried, you really did try! You did your best. You have always done your best. But in the end, it seems that no matter how hard you fought or tried to fight, defend, and protect, it just was never enough. But you lost waaaaay too much to give up. Especially now.

You’ll get discovered soon. And not by the ones you want to meet. “Fuck!”

You couldn’t let this get to you. They might be coming. Quickly unplugging the cables you grab the beacon and swing away, using the night as your cover to make a grand escape.

After all, you still were able to at least find a connection, just not a strong one. Try again next time.

A fire grew inside you. That’s right, you’ll just try again, and this time make something better. As long as you weren’t caught you can still make something better. “Can’t give up.” You spoke through your tears. You’ll fix this, you have too. It’s just you against the world.

Just like Miguel, you’ll throw yourself into fixing things. Making it better.

The obsession of trying to make things right by any means necessary, broken and unbroken. Take things apart and build it back together again, same and before, or better, greater even.

A Tinkerer if you will. Anything to be useful, needed, wanted. And in order for you to feel that, you’ll build an even stronger signal. This time, you’ll make your watch better.

You know Hobie Brown knows how to build his own watch. You both do. Discussed it when Hobie casually said he missed your presence at times. So you’ll just upgrade yours.

Building a better beacon and upgrading your watch requires more material. So you’ll plan for the days ahead. You will learn from this failure. You have to. You need to.

Your greatest failures were failing to save Ben, protect May, and defend Peter, those you cared for the most. You can’t afford to fail this. You will make it back. It just seems that you’ll be stuck here just a tad bit longer.

“That’s okay… everything will be okay.” Your erratic mind becomes calm again.

You learned to take responsibility for your actions and mistakes, learned to accept the consequences and help others face their own, and finally to heal and move forwards, to hope. And right now, you’re hoping for a better outcome soon.

“I can do this.” Landing on the warehouse you climbed through a window, throwing your mask to the side, landing on your workbench. “I can do better.”

You were known as a dangerous spider. You have years of experience, years of trials and tribulations, you’re smart, curious, and compassionate. But you’re hungry, always hungry to learn more, to consume knowledge. You use what you learn and become better than yesterday.

You’re a dangerous spider because you always come out of every experience learning more, learning to be better as you adapt, plan and overcome every obstacle in your way.

You’re a dangerous spider, because you push yourself to the brink it’s almost madness. Your obsession of not being weak, helpless, and vulnerable forced your body to adapt at a rapid pace. It terrified your enemies and comrades. And how easily you can hide that obsession is also terrifying.

It’s the calm before the storm.

And right now, you need to plan better. You’ll leave the Narrows, go somewhere else. Possibly Park Row? No. That’s the Red Hoods territory. Maybe somewhere less chaotic. Oh! East End sounds perfect! It’s one of the places Batman doesn’t really interfere with.

Perfect.

You’ll only leave once you finish your beacons. Because you know the bats will come here, and most certainly discover that someone has been here building no matter how you try to cover up your doings.

Batman is just that good. You just won’t take any chances.

-

In a different universe far faaaaaaar away. Miguel discovered a heartbreaking partially audible voice recording of his missing protégé.

Location unknown. Coordinates unknown. Universe unknown.

You were lost, and he doesn’t know how to find you.

Prev; Next;

I know it feels like I'm rushing and to that- fair probably. I also really want to get into the bat family and stuff. Their actual civilian personas i mean. Not their vigilante alter ego. You are going to meet them next chapter for sure, I just need to find a way to up the states for you. Make you feel dread and anxious.

I'm not a funny person, so I feel like I am doing the spider-sona injustice. Rip.

[loki--fics]

Hey !!! I love your writing !!! Could I possibly request a super fluffy like wedding day where both you and Loki are nervous but it all goes away when you see each other and a wee lil bit of smut at the end? Totally cool if not !!! ✨💜

sorry this took so long, this was by far my longest oneshot! i wanted to fit in as much detail as possible, though i was tempted to turn this into a series as well haha. thank you for the request though, and feel free to ask for more :)) i hope you enjoy!

~

Loki's Bride

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,668

Content Warnings: fluff, lots of smut at the end

~

It was late afternoon, the warm sun guarding against the chill of the autumn breeze. You sat in front of the window, your eyes closed as a handmaiden worked on your makeup, another one standing behind you working on your hair. They had been doing this for what felt like ages, but you didn't mind; it took your mind off of how nervous you were. But then, you had reason to be nervous - today was your wedding day.

The crisp breeze wafted in from the open window, caressing your skin like a whisper, but you could barely feel it over the cold pricks of anxiety. You and Frigga had been planning this day for months now, and throughout the months you had been excited, but now that the day was here, you were nervous.

"It is time for the dress, Lady Y/N," Said the handmaiden who did your hair. You recalled her stating that her name was Ingrid, and the other maiden was named Eira.

Nodding, you stood and walked with Ingrid to the wardrobe, from which she grabbed a large garment bag.

"Her Majesty had this dress made for you," Eira said happily as Ingrid unzipped the bag. You were met by the most beautiful dress you had ever seen, a creamy off-white number with off the shoulder sleeves and intricate gold lacing, the skirt wide and puffy with a short train. Its beauty was almost unreal.

"It's gorgeous," You said, your fingers brushing the fabric.

Eira slipped your robe off of your shoulders, placing it on the bed as Ingrid helped you carefully step into the dress. As she zipped up the back, it hugged your waist and bosom snugly, but not uncomfortably tight. It was a perfect fit, as were the shoes and the waist belt for the dagger ceremony.

"This is amazing," You breathed, smoothing out the dress. It felt as though you had been transported into a faerie tale, with the dress, the handmaidens, the stunning view you had from your window, and the fact that you were marrying a prince.. You were afraid it was too good to be true.

A knock sounded at the door, and Eria walked over to answer it. "Your Majesty!" She said, bowing. "I was wondering when you would arrive, we've just finished getting Y/N into her dress."

Your eyes met Frigga's as she walked into the room, ever the epitome of grace. "Dearest Y/N, you look beautiful!" She said happily, her eyes trailing over you.

"Thank you," You replied, bowing slightly. "The dress.. I'm not sure how I could ever thank you for it, it's perfect."

Frigga waved you off. "I assure you no thanks are needed." It was then that you noticed the square, velvet box in her hands, and she followed your eyes downward. "Oh, yes. This is for you as well, dear." She opened it, and resting inside was a beautiful gold circlet with emeralds and diamonds inlaid, delicately woven to resemble leaves.

"Oh, Frigga, you shouldn't have," You said, feeling tears well up in your eyes. "I couldn't possibly accept this!"

"You can, and you will," She said gently, removing the circlet from the box. Gently clasping it at the back of your head, she turned you toward the mirror. "Go look."

Your eyes widened in shock as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Never in your life had you looked so beautiful, you were sure of it; your skin had a dewey glow, your hair was left down and curled simply, with intricate braids on either side of your head connecting in the back, the circlet pulling the whole look together. You truly looked like royalty.

The thought still nagged, however, that this was all too good to be true. Turning away from the mirror with a sigh, you took a seat in front of the window once more.

"Is there something troubling you?" Frigga asked, shooing the handmaidens out of the room and taking a seat on the wooden bench next to you, her eyes alight with worry.

"This seems too good to be true," You admitted. "What if Loki realises that he's making a mistake, or he realises he doesn't love me anymore? I'm only a mortal, and he's going to live on far longer after I've gone from this world."

Placing her hand over yours, she spoke. "I know my son, Y/N, and I can see from the way he looks at you how deeply he loves you. Please trust that all will be well."

"He's going to have to watch me grow old and sick and die, while he stays perfect," You voiced. You had realised this quite some time ago, but hadn't let yourself truly come to terms with it until now, and you felt yourself begin to panic. "I'm going to die centuries before him, and then he'll remarry, and-"

"Y/N!" Frigga said, snapping you out of your ramblings. "Do not think of such things. Focus your mind on the love you hold for him, and the love he holds for you; a love as true and pure as yours does not happen often, believe that Loki will not allow anything to happen to you."

"Your Majesty," Ingrid spoke from the doorway. "It's time."

As the two of you stood, Frigga wrapped her arms around you in a warm embrace. "Focus on your love for him," She repeated in your ear. "All will be well, I promise."

~time skip~

All too soon, you stood facing the doors that led out into the garden, where the wedding was taking place. Thor was at your side, your arm looped through his as the two of you waited for the music to start, your cue to walk down the aisle.

"What if I forget my vows?" You asked frantically. "What am I supposed to do then?"

Thor chuckled, patting your hand. "Lady Y/N, you have been studying your vows for weeks, I have good faith that you will not forget them. However, if you do, simply speak from your heart."

You heard the low sound of the music begin, and that meant there was only a moment before the doors would open and you would face the people of Asgard and the Allfather, and you felt your heart race. "Please don't let me fall," You whispered.

"Never," Thor whispered back, squeezing your hand. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders as the doors opened.

It took only a moment for your eyes to adjust to the light, and almost immediately you spotted Loki. As you and Thor began walking slowly, you watched Loki's eyes widen as he looked at you, his lips parting slightly as a blush rose to his cheeks. You saw nothing but love in his eyes, and you smiled as your own eyes took him in, looking handsome as ever in the Asgardian leather suit he so prided himself on.

Looking down, you saw that the white carpet that stretched from the doors to the altar was sprinkled with beautiful red bougainvillea flowers, which you'd requested as soon as you'd discovered that they were Loki's favourite. He noticed this as well, looking down at the flowers and giving you a small smile.

There were hundreds of people in attendance, most of them being residents of Asgard, many of whom you had yet to meet, all standing with their eyes on you. You saw many happy smiles, but also caught a few jealous stares from some of the women, and flushed. Continuing your slow steps, you focused your gaze back on the handsome groom waiting for you.

As you neared the altar, you spotted your team - your family, standing in the front rows greeting you with wide smiles. When you had first told them about your relationship with Loki, a year and a half after he'd returned to New York to gain pardon from the people of Earth, and six months after your relationship had begun, they were understandably shocked. But through your time spent with him, he had shown you a softer, gentler side to him, one that they had not yet seen. An even bigger shock came when Loki had proposed to you in front of everyone at the New Year's Eve party that Tony had thrown, but now, they expressed nothing but happiness for the two of you.

You felt your heart swell as you looked at them, even more so as you looked back at Loki, and it took everything in you not to pick up your dress, run to your groom, and throw yourself into his arms. This was everything you had dreamt of and more since he proposed to you eight months ago, and you wanted to laugh at yourself for being so nervous. How could you have thought, even for a second, that he would just stop loving you?

Thor pulled his arm out of yours, placing his hand on your shoulder and smiling as he took his place with the rest of the team in the front row. You picked up your dress and walked up the steps of the beautiful stone gazebo, decorated with bright, beautiful flowers and leaves, taking your place across from him.

"You are stunning, my love," Loki said quietly, his blue eyes gazing into your e/c ones as he took your hands.

"As are you," You replied, squeezing his hands. "I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Nor can I."

The music quieted as Odin stepped in front of the two of you and raised his hands, cueing everyone to take their seats.

"Good evening, people of Asgard and guests." Lowering his hands, he continued. "Today, we have taken ourselves out of our usual routines of daily living to witness the union between Loki of Asgard, and Y/N of Midguard." He gestured to each of you respectively. "As Loki and Y/N prepared for the ceremony, they took time to reflect upon what it is they love in the other, and they will now state these vows, starting with the groom."

Loki smiled at you lovingly. "I, Loki of Asgard, by the life and seidr that flows through my blood and the love that resides for you within my heart, take you by my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. There is not a moment where you do not take my breath away, and I will never seek to change you in any way. I will trust and respect you as your own person and realise that your needs are no more important than my own.

"I hereby promise to love you wholly and completely, without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in this life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. I will grow along with you and I am willing to face change with you. I will always respect you, your beliefs, your people and your ways as I respect myself, as I am your partner and we shall be equal in all things.

"I cannot begin to describe how happy I am to have won the joy of such a consort, and I will forever delight in the love of you. I will cherish each tear to fall from your eyes, both in sadness and in joy, and I will do my best to ensure you are safe and secure, and to honour the love you have for me. To find someone as special as you, out of all in the Nine Realms, is something I never imagined possible. Today, Y/N, I give myself to you and vow to love you eternally."

You couldn't stop the tears that welled up in your eyes as he finished, looking at you with such love and adoration you had to restrain yourself from kissing him then.

"And now, the bride will state her vows," Odin said.

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed Loki's hands. "I, Y/N of Midguard, by the life that flows through my blood and the love that resides for you in my heart, take you by my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. I promise to love you when you are confident in yourself, as well as when you cannot bear your own reflection. I will love you when all is perfect, and when it seems all is falling apart. I promise to never judge you, nor your feelings, and to listen to you always, even when it's hard.

"From the moment our paths crossed you have surprised me, distracted me, captivated me, and challenged me in a way that no one ever has. I have fallen in love with you countless times, again and again, without reservation, and I still cannot believe that I am allowed the honour of being your bride.

"Whilst I cannot promise that dark clouds will never hover over our lives, or that the future will bring us many rainbows, I can promise that regardless of what lies ahead I will be by your side through all of it. You have my everlasting devotion, my loyalty, my respect, and my unconditional love.

"You are what makes my life a joy to live, and I vow to cherish every moment that I get to spend in your company. I would, on no uncertain terms, do anything for you. I will always choose you, in this life and every one beyond, in any world, and in any version of reality, I will find and choose you. Today, Loki, I give myself to you and vow to love you eternally."

"Now," The Allfather said after a beat of silence, "The couple will now exchange their handmade daggers."

The two of you released each other's hands, and you turned behind you to receive the dagger that you had made for Loki from Frigga. At the same time, Loki had turned to Odin for the dagger he made for you. Turning back to each other, you each held up your daggers, then Loki leaned toward you and placed the dagger into your waist belt, and once he was finished you repeated his actions, placing your dagger into his waist belt.

"Present your rings," Odin said, and both of you complied.

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love everlasting," Loki said as he slid the ring onto your finger.

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love everlasting," You repeated, sliding the ring onto his finger.

Odin spoke once more. "Loki of Asgard, and Y/N of Midguard, today you celebrate one of life's greatest moments and give recognition to the worth and beauty of love. As you have stated your vows with your lips, so you shall seal them with your lips."

Throwing your arms around your now husband, you pressed your lips to his with such force it was as though you had been starved of his kiss for years. The thundering applause and shrill cheers seemed to fade away as you kissed Loki, your fingers tangling in his jet black hair as his hands wrapped around your waist and lifted you, spinning you in a circle.

Setting you back down, Loki broke the kiss, leaning his head against yours and looking at you longingly. "I love you so very much, Y/N," He whispered with a smile.

"I love you, too, Loki," You whispered back, feeling happier than you had ever thought possible.

~time skip~

After you had changed out of your wedding dress into your reception dress, you and Loki enjoyed the festivities and feast for a while, dancing in merriment with everyone until Loki had pulled you aside.

"I need to speak with you," He said lowly, leading you over to the balcony. The two of you stepped out into the crisp night air, and Loki shut the doors, presenting you with a black box.

"What is this?" You asked, confused.

"I have one last proposal to make," He said, getting down on one knee. "If you truly wish to spend forever with me," Opening the box, a single apple that appeared to be made of gold rested inside, "All you need do is eat this apple."

Your throat felt tight as you looked at the apple. "Loki…"

"This is an Apple of Idun, it is what originally granted the Gods and Goddesses immortality, and if you wish, it will grant it for you as well," He explained.

Your eyes welled up with tears as you touched the apple. It was cool, and felt like a normal apple. Frigga's words from earlier when you voiced your fear of dying before Loki poured into your mind and you gasped. "Frigga-?"

"It was her idea," He admitted. "She convinced Idun to spare an apple in the name of love. Do you accept?"

You sank to your knees, putting yourself at the same level as Loki. "Forever?" You asked, searching his eyes.

"Forever," Loki replied sincerely.

Slowly grasping the apple, you considered the weight of what you were about to do. Were you truly ready to give up mortal life, to live for thousands of years like the people of Asgard?

Looking into Loki's blue eyes, full of love and hope, you knew the only answer was yes. For him, you would do anything.

Bringing the apple to your lips, you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh, biting a chunk out and chewing it slowly. It was sweeter than any apple you'd ever eaten on Earth, perfectly ripe with juices trickling down your chin. Taking another bite, you almost moaned at how delicious it was, reveling in the taste. It seemed the apple had no core, no seeds, so it was unable to be replanted, and you were able to eat the entire thing.

You felt something akin to the feeling of your limbs falling asleep, the tingling sensation spreading over the whole of your body. Your vision blurred, and you would have fallen back if Loki had not caught you and laid you in his lap. A strange, out of body feeling overtook you, as though you were hovering over the two of you, the body laying in Loki's lap no longer yours. It was as if the universe had poured a bit of its everlasting essence into your veins, feeling like the purest magic had filled your body. Then, as soon as it started, it was over.

Vision cleared, you looked up at your husband, seeing him much more clearly than you had before. Every strand of hair caught your attention, every wrinkle in his suit, every line in his hands.

"You are breathtaking," You gasped, your eyes wide in awe. "What just happened?"

Loki smiled softly. "You became immortal."

Sitting up, you threw your arms around Loki, and he grunted, your new strength taking him by surprise. "I cannot wait to spend forever with you," You whispered. "I love you so much."

"Nor can I, my love," He whispered back.

~ time skip ~

The two of you had rejoined the festivities, dancing and grazing on the plethora of food, conversing with the people of Asgard and your team, but now it was time for your honeymoon to officially begin.

Grasping your hand, Loki put his lips to your ear. "I do believe it is time we consummate our marriage, my love," He said lowly.

You felt heat blossom in your core, and blushed. Bidding goodnight to your team, you followed Loki out of the room, followed by a chorus of cheers and wolf-whistles. Tonight was the first night you were to be intimate with Loki in such a manner - he had been being watched by Heimdall and the Allfather most of the time the two of you had been dating, so you had only been able to steal kisses here and there. Not the most romantic, but it was better than nothing.

Now, however, as Loki pulled you to his chambers, you felt almost as nervous, if not more so, than you had before the ceremony. No one was watching you now, the two of you were utterly alone.

Loki stopped outside the door to his chambers, turning to you. For a moment you were confused, but then he scooped you up, bridal style, and carried you over the threshold. The door closed with a solid thud behind you as he walked you to his bed, setting you down gently. After the ceremony you had changed into a shorter dress, the hem reaching your mid-thigh, with a white skirt and lace top that wrapped around your neck. Now, Loki eyed it hungrily, wanting it off.

Gently holding the back of your head in his hand, Loki kissed you, laying you down slowly as he hovered above you. His lips claimed yours completely, his tongue swiping along your lower lip. You gasped lightly, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Feeling a familiar tingling sensation, you realised Loki had used his magic to remove the clothing from both of you, leaving you in undergarments, and you blushed, instinctively moving your arms to cover yourself.

Pulling back, Loki met your eyes. "Hear this now. You need never cover yourself in front of me. You are a treasure to behold, my love, and in my eyes, you are nothing short of perfection." His hands gently pried yours away from your body, his eyes relishing the sight. "There is not a single soul in the Nine Realms that I would rather be with right now, and not a single thing in the Nine Realms that could take me away from you. I love you, not only for your body but for your soul, your mind, your heart and your spirit."

He said every word with such sincerity, his eyes showing nothing but love for you, that you could think of only one thing to say.

"Kiss me."

He did, with an intensity that rivaled every other kiss he'd ever given you, including your wedding kiss. It was so filled with passion that you were certain no being in the Nine Realms and beyond had shared such a kiss before, it felt as though the universe itself was bowing from the vehemence of the kiss.

Every inch of your skin that Loki caressed seemed to be set alight, and you were certain that, had you not been holding him, you would have floated away to Valhalla. You felt his hardened member brush the thin lace veil that covered your core, and were unable to quiet the moan that fell from your lips as your hips bucked, desperate for more.

Loki's lips left yours, venturing down your jaw, your neck, your collar, kissing every inch of exposed skin. You were hot and cold all at once, your body nearly vibrating from the force of your arousal as his lips travelled lower, between your breasts, down your stomach, to your thighs. He peppered delicate kisses along the inside of your thighs, looking up at you as his fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties.

"Is this okay?" He asked, pausing.

"Oh Gods yes, Loki," You breathed, your chest heaving with the force of your breaths as you met his eyes.

Slowly, deliberately, he pulled the thin lace fabric down your hips, tossing them to the side as he took in the sight of your glistening core before him. He pressed two long, dexterous digits against your opening, sliding them inside of you and pumping at an agonisingly slow pace. His head dipped down, lips just barely brushing your sensitive nub, inhaling your sweet, musky odour before pressing a kiss to your core.

"Please, Loki, stop teasing me," You whined, gripping the sheets.

He smirked. "As you wish." With force, he launched an assault with his lips, his tongue expertly swirling around your nub whilst his fingers curled perfectly against your g-spot. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you moaned loudly, fingers tangling in his soft raven locks.

Loki's free hand gripped your thigh so tightly as he devoured you, you were sure it would bruise. He moaned, sending delicious vibrations through your core and your orgasm ripping through you with a force you had never before felt, your body set aflame as his name fell repeatedly like a prayer from your lips.

Pulling his head back, your husband looked at you with dark, lust filled eyes as he brought his fingers, covered with your arousal, to his lips. Slowly, he put them in his mouth, sucking off every bit of your juices before pulling them out and climbing on top of you, pressing a kiss to your lips and allowing you to taste yourself.

"You are sweeter than the finest søt vin," Loki said lowly.

Butterflies were no match for the hurricane that erupted in your stomach. "I want you," You begged softly. "All of you. I'm yours."

With a flick of his wrist, the rest of the clothing was removed from both of you. Your eyes moved down, almost of their own accord, taking in the size of his member. You were no virgin, and you were sure Loki wasn't, either but you had never been with someone of such size and girth, and it would be dishonest to say you weren't intimidated.

"I'll be gentle, love," He said softly, his hand caressing your cheek.

"I trust you," You replied, leaning into his touch.

Kissing you softly, you felt the God position his manhood at your entrance, sinking himself into you slowly. He groaned at your tightness, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he waited for your hole to adjust to his large size. The sensation of being so wholly filled by him was a bit painful, your walls stretching to their limit as they tried to accommodate him, and after a moment you bucked your hips.

Pumping into you slowly, the pain morphed into pleasure as your legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him to sink deeper into you. He quickened the motions of his hips, the head of his manhood perfectly hitting your g-spot as he thrust into you. Both of you were moaning, your lips roaming each other, hands groping anywhere they could reach as Loki plunged into your opening again and again.

"Please, harder," You moaned, gripping his shoulders.

All too happy to oblige your request, Loki brought his hips to meet yours with such force that you saw stars. Moaning loudly, your nails dug into his skin as he thrust into you harder, his movements growing faster as you both neared your climax.

Wrapping his arms around you, Loki pulled you upright so that you were sitting on his lap, continuing to pound into you as he brought your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before nibbling lightly. Delirious with pleasure, you gripped his hair and pulled, earning a loud moan as his nails raked down your back. He smashed his lips to yours, and you bit his lip so hard it drew blood as your orgasm hit you with even more force than the first, your primal screams of pleasure filling the room as he buried himself to the hilt inside of you, releasing his seed as he shouted obscenities.

After a final few pumps, he pulled out of you, the two of you falling back onto the mattress, limbs entangled and your head on his chest.

"I will never grow tired of that," You giggled, fingers drawing lazy swirls on his pale skin. "This has been the best day of my life."

Loki smiled. "It was mine as well." The two of you were covered in a sheen of sweat, and with a lazy wave of his hand, the window opened and a cool breeze wafted over the two of you.

"I love you," You said sleepily.

"I love you," He replied.

"Forever?"

"Forever."

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Mr. Gallagher and Me

Jim x Reader

A/n: This isn't really a 'chapter', its just a little moment between them to keep it light until the drama. Its also something I've been thinking of doing with them; smaller oneshot/drabbles within the same universe that still have a little separation from the bigger story, so feedback is appreciated!

Interlude- The First Anniversary

When Jim and Y/n's first anniversary coincides with Valentine's Day, he tries to give an evening to remember, but will it go as planned?

Mid February- Valentine’s Day. One year. One entire year since their first date, their first kiss, the first time they’d been together. One perfectly square year. Jim actually couldn’t believe it, they’d come so far his life had changed way more than he’d ever expected it could. If anyone had asked him twelve months ago if more kids, and another long term relationship was something he was looking for, the answer would have been a resounding no. His previous relationships had imploded and the much dreaded middle-age was fast approaching- the word retirement had become a staple within his friend circle and he’d started working out how much it would cost him to put two kids through college consecutively. But now that he was in the midst of it; a healthy, stable relationship with the woman he loved and a baby on the way, Jim had realized that he didn’t miss his former life at all. 

Thinking that he was too old to have more children had turned into anticipating the arrival of their baby. Contemplation of retirement had turned into considering vying for tenure-ship. Planning to put Alannah and Ben through college one after the other had not changed. Putting the notion of remarrying behind him had become a thing of the past- in actuality, Jim had been considering it quite a bit. 

“You know,” Y/n interrupted his thoughts, hugging his arm a bit tighter as she leaned her head on his shoulder, “We agreed to not do anything fancy, and you’ve got me wearing a pretty nice dress here, Mr. Gallagher.” 

Chuckling lowly, Jim quickly pecked her hair before resting his cheek on the crown of her head, “I promise its worth it, Ms. Y/l/n. Besides, its not that fancy, its just dinner at a nice restaurant,” he fibbed nonchalantly. 

“Take out at home would have been nice too. Just the two of us,” she hummed, then gently touching the swell of her stomach, she corrected, “Well, three of us.” 

Truthfully, Jim’s initial plan had been takeout, an old record and the two- or rather three- of them at their apartment for Valentine’s day. It was an idea that they’d both like, comfortable clothes and each other’s company always made for a nice night, but when he was just about to make the decision, the realization had hit him; it always made for a nice night. Always. They did it all the time, even when he had his kids some weekends, they rarely went out, unless it was to a movie or for ice cream, Jim didn’t want him and Y/n to spend their first anniversary doing something that had become part of their routine. She deserved a nice night out, at a high end restaurant in the city, she deserved to see that he cared.

What with that thought came another.

That night, the 'second thought' sent sparks up his fingertips every time he casually slipped his hand into his pocket, feeling cool velvet graze the tips of his fingers. “Yeah, but we always do that,” he countered lightly, leading them through the gold framed doors of a nice restaurant with wide windows facing the sidewalk and a warm, vintage feel. “Besides, it’ll be good to take your mind off the thesis defense for the night.”

Pouting, Y/n shifted her head to meet his eyes for a moment, “I don’t want to take my mind off it, at least, not until it's over,” she sighed heavily, “I’m sorry, I just really worried about it.”

“Don’t be sorry,” they approached the hostess and Jim quickly offered his name, which he'd made the reservation under. “Its okay to be nervous, the defense is a big deal,” as they followed the young woman, Jim slipped his hand out if Y/n’s embrace, opting to snake his own arm around her waist, “But its also just a formality, chances are you already have that degree.” When they reached their reserved table, Jim pulled her chair out and helped Y/n get seated before sinking into the other chair on the other side of the small table. 

“I hope so,” she sucked in a breath before shaking her head, “But I don’t want to make our night about school or work or anything,” Y/n reached across the table and Jim didn’t think twice about letting her take his hand, “The anniversary of our first date and our first Valentine’s day as a couple……and our last one as just a couple.”

Jim leaned forward a little, bringing his lips to the back of her hand, “Then we better make one to remember.”

Giggling softly, Y/n glanced around the small,  ritzy establishment; yellow hued, intimate lighting emanating from a small crystal chandelier mounted to the ceiling which sported a pastel mural, ivory tablecloths with lace trim dressing up rounded, candlelit tables. The steady embers gave the china plates and the delicate looking crystal glasses the prettiest glow, affording the establishment the most romantic setting. The candles on their table in particular, Jim thought, accentuated Y/n’s features perfectly; her eyes seemed darker, while her lashes cast long shadows along the apples of her cheeks, which had filled out a bit in the past couple months. She was absolutely stunning, so much so that he could hardly believe that he was sitting across from her, holding her hand. 

How could, after everything, he be afforded a second chance like that? Another go at being a partner, a better one this time, another chance at raising a child and starting a family. 

Another chance at-

“How’d you find this place?” Y/n once again intruded on Jim’s thoughts, curious eyes roving the room, drinking in the beauty.

“Uh I just asked around,” Jim shrugged, “When I went out with Paul,” one of his oldest friends, “To that pub the other day. I asked him,” where he’d proposed to his wife, “If he knew any good spots in the city where we could still have some privacy.”

“He suggested this place?” She smiled softly, absently caressing the back of his fingers. 

“God no,” Jim scoffed with a chuckle, in retrospect, asking Paul, who'd taken his current wife to a screening of a game at his favorite sports bar on their third date, about romantic date spots was not a good idea. “I did a deep dive on Google and found this on…..page three, so I came to check it out last Wednesday.”

“When I made you go looking for dragon fruit?” She pouted cutely.

“Yes,” he hissed with a hearty chortle, “You like it, right?”

“Like it?” She scoffed lightly, “I love it. I love you….and your ability to find dragon fruit in Dublin.”

Jim laughed, leaning forward as he brought her knuckles to his lips,”I love you to, and our baby, and this life we’re building together.”

“So do I,” Y/n returned softly. She looked like she was about to say something else when a commotion a couple tables away drew their attention. It was a couple, both parties seemingly in their mid twenties, and the man had gotten down on one knee in front of the woman. He was holding a ring box, and the woman’s face was etched with hopeful excitement. “Oh my God,” Y/n laughed softly as the stranger’s proposal ended with an excited yes and applause from the rest of patrons, “Can you believe that?” 

Jim sucked in a nervous breath, shifting his gaze to regarded her amused expression, “Yeah,” he breathed as the collective clapping slowed, “Pretty romantic, isn’t it?” 

As she stopped clapping to, Y/n shrugged halfheartedly and her small hands fell to the top of her bump, clad in the rich fabric of her burgundy dress, “I guess,” she cringed a little and Jim felt his heart quicken, “Its just…..on Valentine’s day? Really cliche, you know? And proposing like that in front of strangers, I’d feel so pressured to say yes if that were me,” she paused humming before reaching for Jim’s hand across the table once more, “Thank God you wouldn’t do that,” she added with an airy chuckle. 

Clearing his throat, Jim smoothed his hand over the side of his left thigh, feeling the bulge of a little ring box, safely in his pocket- where it would apparently stay for a little while longer. “Of course not,” he  gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze and then scoffed, maybe a little more dramatically than warranted, “Propose on Valentine’s Day? In public? Me? I-I’d never do that to you,” again, a fit of nervous laughter escaped his lips and Jim felt his heart sink a bit lower. 

“Of course you wouldn't,” Y/n smiled, bright and genuine. 

Shaking his head, Jim brashly agreed, “Of course I wouldn’t.” He definitely wasn’t going to, at least not anymore, there wasn’t a chance in hell that he’d ask her that night…..or maybe anytime soon.

[starseed-twenty]

Things to look at [the most] for Synastry/Compatibility

Sun & Moon

The sun and the moon are very important for compatibility. In general, the sun is important in outlining a person and their identity & conscious personality, and the moon is important in interpreting a person's subconscious personality and feelings/emotions. The moon is also very important in giving a reason for a person's actions, thoughts and way of living, because it is their subconscious and it is or can be known as their soul. So how this plays a role in compatibility, is that a person's emotions and feelings show the most when they are in love and so if two people’s emotions get along well [trine, opposition, conjunction, sextile] then chances are high for them to flow on the same wavelength and feel a deep, mutual attraction for each other. It can also work very well if a person's sun is positively aspecting [trine, opposition, conjunction, sextile] the significant other's moon sign. More often than not, it actually works best when the person's sun is positively aspecting the other person's moon sign. This is because much like when we look at the sky and see that the moon is reflecting upon the sun’s light, a person's identity (sun) will shine and be able to reflect to the other person’s emotions (moon), allowing them to release their emotions easily because the other person is able to show them off consciously and with ease. So the moon illuminates best when the sun is reflecting something similar, and thus, there becomes a sense of comfortability and great compatibility.

Venus

Venus is already known as the planet of love, beauty and relationships so I won't dwell too deep, but I want to add how it can influence compatibility in a way that other planets or houses cannot. Venus is quite similar to the moon in that it deals with feelings and matters of the heart. But Venus focuses specifically on love and desires, not just any emotions. So, this means that Venus comes out the most to play when you're in love or have a desire, mainly for a person. So essentially, if two people’s Venus signs do not match positively, it can be hard for the relationship to be sustained. This is not to say that these people cannot be in a relationship and have a good relationship, however it can be a little bit hard to maintain it as the Venus signs are finding it hard to be mutually attracted to each other [because they are inconjunct or badly aspected]. Funny enough though, you will find that a lot of people or couples who have Venus in the same sign (conjunct) can be very good together, yet pretty toxic for each other. This is because this same sign is showing off both its good traits and its bad traits in this one relationship. The toxicity comes in where the other person will understand where that energy is coming from because they also have it, so they can find it hard to let go of their significant other. It is a mess, but somehow it works out most of the time because they love each other, and have deep lust and memories together.

North Node

The North node, surprisingly, plays a significant role in compatibility because it is a person's sense of direction for their life path, and ultimately where their life is going or based on until the end. More often than not though, a person will act like their South node because this is their safe space, their comfort zone, the life/way they know well. But the South node is the life you are trying to leave behind, so life will try to pull you towards your North node and try to tire you (or make you get bored) of your South node traits. So, in the compatibility sense, two people are more likely to be compatible if they have the same North node (or North nodes that positively aspect each other [trine and sextile]) because their life path or sense of direction involves the same energy or way of living while leaving behind things that are also pretty similar (opposite to their NN).

Juno

We don't talk about Juno enough for compatibility, yet it is a very, very, very important placement. Juno (in dictionary form) is the asteroid that rules of marriage and commitment. Basically, what it is really, is what you deeply and truly look for in a partner in the standard of a long-term relationship/marriage or what you would like marriage to be like. So, for example, a person with a Juno in Sagittarius would be seeking or deeply desiring a marriage or a long-term relationship that is full of fun, freedom, adventure, conversations, and thrills. If it dies down or becomes boring, they can become a bit weary and seemingly bored, and so if the significant other doesn't really keep the relationship a lil fun and free anymore then they may stray away or end it. Another example would be someone who has a Juno in Aquarius; they would look for a relationship or marriage that is quite chilled and cool, yet bizarre/unusual and out of this world and full of mentally stimulating conversations or activities. They would not want something that is boring, predictable or uninteresting, unless there is a tactical reason behind it [lool]. A person with a Juno in Taurus on the other hand probably would prefer something quite predictable and relaxed and (seemingly) boring, because they enjoy the routine and stability of it. Thus, Juno does play a big role in synastry and if you want to know whether you’re compatible with your significant other in the long run.

Houses

For houses, the 5th, 7th and 8th house play the most roles in compatibility.

The 5th house is there for the romance part and it mainly comes out at the stage where two people are still dating, getting to know each other, being playful and finding out each other's interests and whether they are compatible or not. The 7th house, as we know it, is the house of relationships and partnerships, so it's essentially how a person is when they're in a union or being together with a person one on one. So, for example, whilst a person can have a Capricorn ascendant, they do have a Cancer descendant, which can make them a bit softer in relationships. This can also mean that if they are with someone who has, for example, a Scorpio ascendant, in the real world their risings may make them both come across as powerful, respect-seeking people and this can clash for both of them because they both want the power, but their descendants then make them have a more calmer, stable, ‘homey’ and loving union, so they end up being great together. Then the 8th house plays the role of shared finances, inheritances and things to come out of a marriage (if two people end up being married). It can also rule how a person acts towards another person's possessions and habits. This is more one sided, meaning that two people’s 8th houses do not have to be compatible, but if a person wants to learn how their significant other will be in the future of their marriage or long-term relationship then they could understand that through the 8th house. Lastly, the 8th house is also known as the house of sex and intimacy, so what they enjoy or how they act during sex is influenced by their 8th house [as well as their Rising (because the rising is how you act in every aspect of your life, aka your eternal mask) and Mars (the planet of movement & action)].

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Mon 7 June ‘21

Liam’s podcast with Steve Bartlett is out and while I still don’t care about that guy I’ll give him this-- he does great at getting out of the way and letting Liam talk. And boy does Liam talk! Liam says A LOT and let’s all just pause to send him some big hugs before we get into right? And then look to the future- Liam’s routine is to say ‘things have been terrible but it’s fine, it’s fine NOW’, always, even when that is absolutely obviously not true, and today is no different but for once I actually believe some of his hopeful bits too which is so great! I hope things really are shifting for him and I can’t wait to hear this new song of his. But there’s a lot that’s hard to hear too, oh Liam. He said that he and Maya have broken up (so yes, presumably why he just moved again such a short time after they moved into their haunted house), talked about his struggles with his alcoholism (and said he’s been sober for a month right now, go babe!), shared the usual distressing stories about his time in the band and what that was like for him (and how it still impacts him), and he talked about his new song and how it feels different for him than his past solo music. Truly though there is SO MUCH more than I can get into here or then you can get from the UA highlights- I HIGHLY recommend actually watching at least parts of the video, also because the attempt to summarize so much erases all the charm and humor, of which there is much. If you don’t think you want to watch Liam’s interviews, it has to be because you aren’t watching Liam’s interviews, they’re delightful! Plus really if you care about 1D and want information about what it was like for any of them, listen to Liam, he’s the one who’s out there talking about it.

About Maya he said, that yes, he is now single, and “I’ve just been not been very good at relationships,” and “I’m a proper perfectionist… at the start of the relationship you put out this complete false character like I might as well go in in costume, I’m like putting out something that is not there... kind of like encompassing someone else’s life with your crap rather than just doing your thing and laying out your store from day one. That’s my biggest problem is that I feel like I don’t lay out my store... and then I’m annoyed when they don’t like what I like,” and “I think my problem is I struggle to be on my own sometimes... I dive in and out of relationships too quickly. I’ve not spent enough time on my own to relearn about myself.”

He laughs about his tendency to ask his manager things during interviews; “My fans think that Steve is doing something to me, they’re like liberty for Liam because he always looks to Steve, but that’s because I like him. It’s not because he’s harming me as a person. There’s like a hashtag Liberty for Liam because they think I’m some like prison child,” and he also said “my manager’s my best friend,” (and he’s said in the past he is a big support for him) and mentioned stuff they’d talked about recently around his therapeutic awakenings.

He talked about therapy being something you have to want to do and be ready to do rather than being pushed into, like getting sober, and says that this time around with his own therapy work he’s really felt that and thrown himself into it and he talked a lot about his relationship to therapy in connection with band days. “I mean one of our old managers went to therapy from being a manager of One Direction. So if you can imagine how that feels like the rest of us definitely need some.”

“We were young,” he said, “What I found was I didn’t know I was the boss until like a few months ago, I still don’t even feel like I am now, like I’m such a child. And everyone I work with now is older than me and wiser than me and I’m like what the hell am I doing here with these people. When we were 17 I thought the security guard was like in charge of me so I was like Can we leave the room? No? Oh ok then,” and “when we were in the band, the best way to secure us was just lock us in our rooms. And of course what’s in the room? Minibar. So at a certain point, I thought Well I’m gonna have a party for one and that just seemed to carry on throughout many years of my life... You know I spoke to somebody about this in child development as a teen, the one thing you need is freedom to make choices. That we could do anything we wanted it seemed from the outside but we were always locked in a room at night and then it would be car, hotel room, stage, sing, locked. So it’s like they pulled the dust cloth off, let us out for a minute, but then it’s back underneath again,” and “the day the band ended I was like thank the lord for that. And I know a lot of people are going to be mad with me for saying that, but I needed it to stop. It would kill me.” Anyway, he said, because it wouldn’t be Liam without an upbeat coda, “I don’t want any of this to get lost in translation. I’m not 100% moaning about my life... it’s had its ups and its downs, but I would rather talk about it and it’s therapeutic for me.”

And what about that exciting new song? Liam said, “We have a really cool song in the pipeline... one of the first ones I’ve actually written myself- with some other people, I didn’t write it by myself, but it’s the first one I’ve really liked. And I think I got so used used carting around other peoples songs and not embedding myself creatively in what I do because I was so scared to find out who I was,” and “I don’t really know how I would tour again. I really want to” [on discord today he said he would be touring next year] “I always said throughout my solo career I’d let my song book speak to me. And I don’t think my song book spoke to me to get off my ass. I only became a solo artist because I had Strip That Down. I wasn’t gonna do it, I was gonna leave it alone. I was like, I survived it once thank you very much- but I’m back in now. Because the song, I knew it was right. It felt right with that song, I hadn’t had that. This year, the song we have I feel really really great about. So I’d rather let the music do the talking than me come out and force it. We don’t need any more useless music in the world, it needs to mean something,” and he mentioned the new song on the discord a lot too, most notably picking out a long comment that thanked him for making the fan feel supported and safe and for “putting your heart in everything you do” and for his support of the LGBTQ community to respond to with, “I think you will really like the new song.”

A few other random bits, he said that he thinks there should be a system to make therapy available to musicians in the industry, “I think I’m definitely gonna get a dog because I need routine,” and “I recently started jujitsu,” yeah you and everyone else huh, so do him and Louis and Oli go to the same gym or ???, and he acknowledged that as an addict he may have just transferred that to working out “but there’s a lot worse things to be addicted to then looking after yourself” hmm but he does seem to say that he’s doing better around body image stuff; he talks about having put on weight during lockdown and seeing himself in the BAFTAS performance- “I saw myself... and I was like ‘oh my god I’ve completely let myself go in this’. And it was fine...I feel so much more secure in myself now.” Oh and that he’s written a comedic movie script “based around AA” and his experiences there, such as how “I had a really weird AA experience the first time that I went. My first experience was with Russell Brand.” LMAO yes! Cannot wait, bring on auteur Liam please! Anyway as if ALL THAT wasn’t enough he’s also dove into the lead up to his NFT release; he said “I'm almost ready to share my NFTs with you guys... Who wants to see them?” and posted a tiny preview that tells us its (their?) title for the first time- Lonely Bug.

Niall and Anne Marie perform on Jimmy Fallon tonight, and the hype is already a go! I guess it’s prerecorded, as we’re already seeing pictures from it; they’re singing to each other with the cute car from the video in the background. Niall signed on to a letter to Boris Johnson asking for changes to music streaming revenue rules and signed by 232 artists (including all the artists Johnson recently named as his favorites, haha). Zayn signed on to a Billboard petition to the US senate calling for gun safety laws. The bar Zayn got into the fight in front of posted “Zayn's a regular at Amsterdam Billiards and he is a true gentleman. On Thursday night he was confronted by an inebriated passer-by outside on the street and was called a homophobic slur. We support Zayn & condemn homophobia in the strongest terms!” And also PS omg again because it just isn’t going away: Harry’s beauty company is called Pleased As, his name is Harry Edward Styles so yes when listed last name first, as legal documents do, it spells SHE but it is not a “feminist abbreviation” (WHAT? even??) nor the name of the business.

[persephoneyss]

Fool.

Pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, heartbreak, office au.

Summary: ❝The fool is one who rests dreaming of doing things beyond his reach, instead of making it come true, pathetic.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, stalking / harassment, quite a bit of voyeurism, implicit murder, naming of non-consensual sex, forced pregnancy, somnophilia, jk drug a reader, extremely complicated relationships, sexual tension between mxm characters, naming of homosexual relations mxm.

Number of words: 5000+

︙ Author's note: My second fic here, thank you very much for all the support you gave to the first one. Enjoy!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

They say, out there, that monotony is boring.

What everyone vaguely forgot, is that we live in it. It is an endless loop between what we do, and what we want.

So, nobody wanted to change it.

Jungkook lived in a routine. He liked his personal independence and, likewise, he never changed anything in his life. He was a man of habit, worthy of admiration and imitation. But he never considered himself capable of guiding someone as his own person, he just seemed boring to him.

Perhaps his complexity of seeing things in different ways was what made him such a genius.

People who break with the custom or the conventional can be called differently in the eyes of everyone, crazy or genius. Jungkook considered himself to be in the middle of both terms. He was madly in love with his genius.

But nobody said that love was for everyone, Jungkook was also in love with another person that he considered that he was worthy of his love, the obsessive and sick, misunderstood love of him.

Jungkook was a genius, but he never wanted money wasting his time on useless things like building an empire and being a millionaire. He looked at other directions in life. His salary was minimal, he worked hard under Kim Taehyung's whip. His boss was successful, just as he has imagined since he saw him go by one fall day.

He couldn't remember the date, but he knew it was fall. The cool breeze was a seal of love.

The clumsy little Jungkook, always with his head down looking for a chance at life. When he could have anything he wanted with his inner genius. The porcelain cup swayed in his hand, watching people rush past, just as he thought it would, everyone had their own business in this time of change. Taehyung really fell from the sky like an angel, or that's what he wanted to remember the day he watched him pass a coffee shop with his phone in hand ordering a cold American coffee even though the wind was blowing strongly in the streets. Jungkook watched him fervently, he was enigmatic and undoubtedly managed to get his attention almost immediately. His tall, firm figure made her want to clench her thighs.

His father always told her that pleasure was fun on unfortunate occasions.

Perhaps because of that, he took enormous pleasure in seeing Taehyung walking close to him.

He felt, in a disgusting way, good about himself. It was as if just by looking at his face and his dark eyes, he would manage to make her cum on his pants. Jungkook searched for him for days, until in an insignificant magazine, which he found by chance, he read about one of the most sought-after businessmen in the nation. Much money, and above all an elegant demeanor. They were the perfect combination to create someone like Kim Taehyung, however, Jungkook missed everything when he saw a photo of his beloved unknown to him.

It was a matter of time. He now named himself to be an excellent worker, always by Taehyung's side wherever he went, he felt euphoric just hearing him say his name with his voice so silent. His personal secretary was jealous of him, she even insulted him for a simple smile that young Jeon showed her. She obviously was fired from her, she being replaced by Mrs. Jang who was an older woman, married with two children.

However, no one ever noticed or simply turned a deaf ear to Jungkook's constant provocations towards the former secretary, just as her mocking smiles seemed to be ignored by conveniently blind eyes.

Jungkook was a man who knew how to play. He loved being the mouse for Taehyung, getting caught up in his whims. But he loved even more being the cat marrying the prey.

And just when he could already feel himself on top of the iceberg, almost close to touching his beloved boss. You arrived. You were an intern, nothing special considering that thousands came every year and you didn't have a permanent position unless you did your job well. Jungkook didn't even notice your presence, not for a year. Mrs. Jang sick from one day to the next, Taehyung had a considerable appreciation for her so she did not take away his job. Only covered it with a temporary vacation.

Jungkook was used to walking into his boss's office being greeted by the harsh but sweet voice of the older woman. But his steps seemed to stop in automatic mode when he heard your voice, it was sweet after sweet. His gaze fell quickly on your figure, you were ethereal, with a hint of mischief that he noticed, questioning if your perfect form was normal to see in a person.

And ironically, he proclaimed you a beautiful and heavenly Angel.

His heart pounded when you seemed to notice his presence, your eyes fell on his face in confusion. Jungkook bit his lip, his breath caught and unconsciously, he clenched his thighs to cover his growing erection. He thought he looked ridiculous standing in front of you without saying anything.

He felt strangely pathetic next to you.

"Who are you? Where is Mrs. Jang?" He asked defensively, surprising your innocent figure. But you never let your guard down.

"I'm sorry, but I'm only a substitute until Mrs. Jang manages to recover. Can I help you with something?"

Jungkook frowned, but only managed to nod with no idea what to do. He took a few steps back, realizing that he had invaded your personal space and cornered you between him and your desk. Anyone who saw them would think that they were close and even that they were having a lovers' quarrel.

I didn't want that. Taehyung was close to being his.

Jungkook looked at you with disdain, you were like a viper trying to tempt his masculine weakness.

But I am not unaware of the fact that I could smell your perfume of roses and vanilla. He was offended that Taehyung will not tell him that he is against someone young again. For a moment he feared that you would steal his position as his boss's right hand man, but that would be ridiculous. Thought. Taehyung was happy by his side, he appreciates him like a ... Little brother. He was trusted.

Nobody said Lucifer couldn't be a woman ...

The next few days weren't any better. Jungkook had his eyes glued to you at all times, counting the minutes when Taehyung called you at his office. How long will it take to leave from your entrance. And when it seemed like too long, he knocked on the door pretending to bring some important documents to sign. I could see you, when you were near your boss you had your head lowered. You were a submissive to him.

Jungkook felt envious, and far beyond, in a reprehensible jealousy of Taehyung. You never lowered your head when he came to greet you every day, nor when he ordered you to bring him a coffee and even less when he tried to embarrass you in front of the other people in the office.

But without a doubt, Jungkook came to hate you more than anyone in his monotonous life. You were a thief to him, you did your job so flawlessly that Taehyung had no choice but to give you the job of secretary. Your secretary. A smile was what adorned your lips every day, Jungkook cursed you a million different times.

You were a competition on their way to the heart of your beloved and perfect boss.

Nothing really changed after your acceptance as a secretary. Jungkook was cruelly trying to ignore you, but you never said anything to him or gave him a sign that he will affect you. Maybe deep down, I expected to see you destroyed by her rejection. Possibly, he thought ironically that he would seek him out asking forgiveness for any mistake you have made for such contempt, seeking to be to his liking again. However, nothing changed for you, you greet him politely, always with that charming look and smile of yours. Just like every day.

Then Jungkook did what seemed the least complicated to him.

He slowly gave up, walking straight to your table to start a conversation every morning, this time, ignoring calls from his boss needing him.

Taehyung was perfect. He put it on a pedestal, admiring its beauty every day as if it were a God.

But with you it was different. You weren't a Goddess to him, that would be stupid. For Jungkook to have you by his side, it was like giving him the privilege of being born again. You were more than his love, you were his life.

Jungkook lived for you. I existed to watch you, love you, make you happy. In its twisted and sick reality, everything you did revolved around his discretion. For he should always have been like that. Taehyung was nothing more than a cruel and beautiful distraction that fate put on him, proving his loyalty to you. Unfortunately he fell into it. His heart felt heavy in his chest, thinking of how long you must have been waiting for him. You must have been alone all that time.

Jungkook cried for you.

"Good morning, Jungkook-ah" Your voice, again.

His gaze was lost on your face. You were the most beautiful thing he had seen in his miserable years of life. He wondered if you, too, could feel his appreciation for you, or could you hear his rampant heartbeat.

Almost unconsciously, like the first time he clenched his thighs biting his lips to avoid being tempted to look past your fragile face. He had never been able to look at your body in a dirty way, but he did not deny wanting to do so. So he did it. His eyes inspected all of you, drinking in your sensuality as if you were a glass of water in front of him. Under your neck that was proud, you had a small necklace with your name written on it hanging and shining beautifully. Your collarbones rose beautifully, Jungkook felt an unreadable desire to want to bite the soft flesh of your neck leaving its marks on it as a sign that you were his. Only from him. Your white shirt was buttoned making a pout to form on her face, I wanted to see what color bra you were wearing that day. Maybe you were wearing something sexier under that stupid uniform, I guess you were ready for him, with some hidden lingerie, tempting him to take you to a bathroom in the building and fuck you foolishly while saying you were his over and over again.

"Are you feeling okay Jungkook-ah?" His gaze followed your body, which rose from your seat to approach him. For a moment he thought he could see your thighs protrude from the black fabric of your skirt that clung exquisitely to your body. His mind created thousands of scenarios where he would remove that garment to make you feel good, hitting you with his cock mercilessly.

Maybe I would let you touch it under the table at employee meetings that were held every week, if you let it mark your entire body with bites and bruises.

"You seem distressed, let me see if you have a fever." You say, without even realizing how his eyes are resting solely on your lips that he was dying to kiss and bite at will.

Jungkook knew that if he touched it, it would be the end. His cock stood up proudly creating a tent in his pants, he was grateful that you were so clueless that you never noticed that small but big problem. His eyes squeezed shut and his hand squeezed his crotch, he hunched over so you wouldn't notice he was coming into his pants with your gentle, harmless touch.

"I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?" You asked again, even more concerned than before.

Jungkook smiled, trying to breathe normally again. Really naive.

He made fun of you, he liked to play pretend to be the mouse just like with Taehyung. In front of you, he was a sweet and gentle man.

It was fun trying to keep his intentions true, but clearly this was starting to get tedious.

A week had passed since the incident, that day he had to ask permission pretending to be sick in order to go home.

You had been worried about his condition, thinking that you could have helped him. That same night, you called his phone wishing him well soon and apologizing once again.

You were never smart enough to notice that Jungkook had his hand inside his pants touching hard just hearing your soft voice saying how sorry you were, you sounded so weak and vulnerable to him. He dreamed of hearing you again, this time begging for him to make you cum on him a thousand times, he knew you would be perfect for his big cock. Taking him like a big girl, like her perfect little one.

Jungkook was a greedy person. Below being a caring and kind man, he was selfish with his desires. He got bored seeing you for so little time during the day, it seemed as if you ran away from him when you left the large company building. Perhaps it was his greed that led him and condemned you to follow you every day, treading closely in your footsteps.

You lived in a small apartment complex, your house had one bedroom and one bathroom. Jungkook thought it was essential for you, you earned almost the same as him and you were certainly a practical person. Making him fall in love with you even more, he felt identified in a funny way. Ironic. When your figure was lost inside your apartment he felt furious, he could not help feeling angry for not being able to see more of you.

But his eyes noticed almost immediately that your apartment had a window, one that just faced another in front of the neighboring building. An enormous satisfaction invaded him. He collected as much money as he could, managing to raise two months of rent for the apartment in front of yours. That would be enough until he would bring you to his feet, and then he would move in with you living together as a normal couple. The man who owns the building was surprised by the persistent attitude of the young man in renting a specific apartment. But he quickly forgot about it when he saw the money in his hand.

"I hope you are not bothered by the noises, the walls are thin and there could be problems with that." The owner babbled, explaining and talking about things that honestly didn't matter to him as long as he could be around you.

Jungkook watched your apartment from the window, the window looked directly into your room. He felt a smile grow on his face, he could see your perfectly arranged bed and the products on your dressing table. Mentally he wrote down all the marks, he had become obsessed with your smell. Wanting to imitate everything about you as much as possible, he even followed you to the mall to see where you always bought your clothes. He began to wear the same brand of clothing, the same style and in the same way, your personal things. Like your skincare products, even your lipstick.

Their love had now turned into a sinister game of catching the helpless mouse. He followed you day and night, it was only a matter of time before you were at his feet begging not to be eaten by the evil cat.

You never liked the night blanket, you felt that the worst things could happen in the dark of one night. Your steps were hurried, you constantly felt a presence following your weak form knowing that you would do nothing to stop it. You were not capable. You only got to feel calm and let out a sigh when you got to your little house, it was cozy for just one person. You liked it, it had a unique charm. Your shoes fell to the ground, as did your coat and bag. You were exhausted, Taehyung was not the best boss. He seemed to have an obsession with making you run around for coffee or a simple napkin.

Secretly, it was obnoxious.

"You're here, little one ..." a voice whispered, watching you from a camera lens.

I had bought a whole spy gear, between cameras, lenses and more just to see you, possibly to take some photos as a souvenir as well. Jungkook smiled, biting his lip impatiently. He had arrived at his department at the same time as you, but his work was not finished yet, not until you lay on your bed turning off the light and preventing him from seeing you any longer. "Good girl." His eyes never left your figure, the first garment fell to the ground.

You had a habit of going straight to the bathroom to relax for a few minutes after a tiring day. You were not yet aware that dark brown eyes were watching you from afar. Jungkook had adorable eyes according to many, they were like those of a defenseless and tender deer, but they would surely change their opinion if they knew what he does and sees with them.

"_____..." Your name left his lips in a moan, his face heated feeling his cock grow slowly at the sight of your naked body so exciting, you walked to the bathroom, losing his sight. But his imagination did the rest.

He sat in front of his camera, pulling down his pants along with his boxer shorts releasing his cock that rose proudly, crashing against his stomach. The presemen came out of his reddened tip, he moved his hand using it as a lubricant to be able to touch himself, imagining that you were looking at him too, calling him and begging him to come to your house to be able to fuck you in your bed. Your neighbors probably wouldn't like the noise. But I would still screw you so they can hear who made you feel good. Who you belonged to.

Just those thoughts was enough for him to come all over his hand, staining his stomach and part of the ground. His chest rose and fell with a laugh. It sure was pathetic.

But now I felt like I had some kind of power over you. Maybe it was always like that, you were his from the day you greeted him for the first time. He refused to think that you could see him cheated on with his boss. It was ridiculous, you clearly loved him.

So, for Jungkook you were his lovers in body and soul.

He could and had the power to do whatever he wanted with you. Taehyung walked in front of him, but for the first time in two years he didn't feel happy or euphoric to see him, and less excited.

He also didn't feel different when he called him into his office.

"Sit down Mr. Jeon, I have some business to attend to with you."

He obeyed immediately, realizing that even he had a power over his weak form. No one was superior to the great Taehyung.

Ironically. He likes irony.

"Lately I was going through the files of my employees and noticed something very unique." He spoke fully focused on his speech, Jungkook felt uncomfortable under his dark and empty gaze. "You have been working here for more than two years without taking a vacation or leaving your position something very exceptional and admirable. Thank you very much for your commitment to us, Mr. Jeon."

A sigh left his lips, he wondered vaguely why his breathing seemed to fail thinking that they could fire him. That would be terribly chaotic, it could not be close to you if it were to be roofed by the company.

It was a relief for him and a condemnation for you.

"It really isn't important, Chief Kim. I will continue to do my job fervently and do my best." He responded with a smile and a bow, trying to get out as soon as possible. He wanted to see you and Taehyung was starting to make him more nervous than usual, he felt that characteristic feeling of having damn butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

He felt like vomiting.

"That seems incredible to me, I would like to celebrate your great achievements. You think if after work, I can buy you a... a drink." He offered remarkably animated.

Funny, he had never been interested in doing that even when Jungkook followed him around like a puppy seeking approval. Did change something now? "I think it would be fair."

Everyone fully says that Lucifer is a man, Eve was very tempted by the apple of sin ...

"I would be delighted, only if I can bring one more person. He is someone important to me, and I would like him to celebrate in the same way." Jungkook smiled, he was delighted.

Taehyung looked surprised, genuinely surprised. But still, he managed to maintain his composure. "Of course, it would be a pleasure to meet that special person to you. You can go now."

Jungkook nodded, giving another bow and walking patiently to the door.

Taehyung watched his figure get lost, he felt strangely curious. He had never seen Jungkook interested in anything other than his job. However, now he spoke of someone special in his life. He frowned, searching his desk for the keys to his drawer hidden from anyone.

It was a bit personal.

He opened it, taking out the only thing inside. A red letter, the envelope was charming and eye-catching. He remembered it just like that day, Jungkook kneeling on the floor of his office where silence reigned. I knew that little Jeon waited for everyone to leave so he could confess, he said nothing at all, his gaze on the ground and his hands held the letter in the air hoping that he would take it.

He never read it.

But he knew it was a confession of his unforgivable love, that Jungkook would think he could fire him for something so heinous. But it was never necessary, he never read the letter so there was never a mistake on anyone's part. But now he was curious.

Maybe jealousy, he wanted to have power over everyone within his company and if a puppet left his strings, it would be like losing power over everyone.

He was lost so much in his misery that he did not notice that you had entered without permission, you were in a hurry because he answered a call from an investor from China that you could not wait for him to answer.

"Mr. Kim, you have a call ..."

Business dinners were boring for you, you knew it was just a stupid look covering up a night in a restaurant where they met to drink as much alcohol as they could. Especially men, according to your criteria. You didn't feel comfortable being the third person on a date between a boss and an important employee. However, I politely accept Mr. Jeon's invitation.

You looked for the table, where dinner and a toast to all the achievements of the aforementioned was supposed to take place. It was one number in particular, table 69.

"Miss _____..." Jungkook was the first to get up from his place to say hello. Taehyung stayed still in his seat, not even looking up from his wine glass. "Have a seat please welcome."

You felt uncomfortable, again. You were the third wheel on a date of two, to say you were a hindrance was to be a joker. Your chair was closer to Jungkook, as if your boss wanted not to be near you by mistake.

"Do you want to order something? Some wine?" Jungkook seemed strangely nervous, as well as attentive to any of your movements.

As if he were afraid of something certainly improbable.

"A-water is fine, thanks." You whisper overwhelmed by so much attention from one person. His hands seemed to shake as he got up from his seat running to bring your precious order.

Taehyung looked at everything with skeptical eyes. He was an observer. His gaze fell on your clothes, you weren't necessarily wearing something revealing or provocative to have so much attention from his former platonic lovers. You were dressed in a black skirt, a honey colored blouse and a white scarf along with some black shoes. You looked comfortable with your clothes, but quite the opposite with the situation and the environment.

Jungkook was dumb. Very silly, he thought, reading your thoughts. You clearly weren't interested in him and still, he was struggling to get your approval as if you were better than Taehyung.

Did you even think about what you were so valuable?

Your name left his lips, drawing your attention right away. "Bored?" His question surprised you, perhaps he was more than observant.

"No, no ..." You reply nervously, waving your hands in the air to give yourself more credibility. "I just think I'm not the most appropriate person to take this place at this dinner. It's weird."

"I get it. You are nobody, just an employee trying to do your job ... not impressive, by the way." Your face was distorted, you were not the most correct person in a matter of manners but you were sure that that was completely offensive and rude. Your inner voice whispered for you to leave, it wasn't worth it. "You are free to go, I will tell Mr. Jeon that you felt bad and had an emergency."

Doubt grew within you. Right now you felt that everything that came out of his mouth was trying to attack you and hurt you in some way. You frowned, refusing to indulge in his game. To say that Taehyung was surprised was an understatement.

"I'm fine, but thank you Mr. Kim."

"Listen damned-..."

Jungkook returned to his place sitting next to you, Taehyung closed his mouth automatically fearing the worst of him. The glass of crystal clear water sat in front of you, it seemed as if it had searched for simple water for days when only a few minutes passed. He looked eager for you to bring him to your lips and drink from something brought by him.

It was terrifying.

Your hand refused to take the glass, your conscience screamed uncontrollably for you to drop it on the floor pretending to have an accident. It was a horribly euphoric feeling. When the water wet your tongue you felt dizzy, your nerves calmed down noticeably.

It was just water.

Jungkook kept smiling the entire dinner, talking about things you honestly didn't understand. It was as if he and Taehyung had a special language to speak to each other, one in which you weren't welcome.

"It feels good?" Your vision became blurry, you had drunk half a glass of wine but your head felt like a whirlpool. Strangely familiar. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, your breath failed and your eyes surrendered.

Jungkook screamed in horror when your body fell to the ground, Taehyung smugly watched as the people around you tried to get up scared by your state. He did not care much about me, nor did it affect him that Jungkook went with you to a hospital. He just sat there, finishing his glass of wine and his special dish. Curious eyes watched them intrigued.

A truly unique man.

Your head rested calmly on his shoulder, he finally smiled away from the pressure of the people in the restaurant. You seemed so peaceful with your steady breathing and calm rhythm, you were so close to him that he was afraid he couldn't wait until he got to his new home. The man who was driving observed in the rear-view mirror, they seemed like a very calm couple and it certainly created a chilling sensation as the young man sitting in his car touched your face as if he feared breaking you by accident. On cold nights like these, he preferred not to ask any questions of his clandestine and unknown clients, but he would always take that doubt about who he helped to escape his own problems.

The room specially chosen by him was decorated, every detail seemed to reflect your darkest tastes and those that everyone knew. It was beautifully scary like the books and pillow was a replica of what you always wanted. Jungkook was proud to have been able to get everything, his bank account was now just zeroes. He learned how useful money was if you saved enough, he hated people who used it without knowing or measuring what it might be worth later.

Your body fell on the giant bed, the sheets were soft and honey color like your blouse. Jungkook knew that you liked colors that will make you relax but you had no preference for one in particular. His curious eyes glowed in the dark, his hands daringly touched your body without fear of being rejected because you simply couldn't do it.

"You are mine, now." He whispered, his voice mingling with the silent screams of the night. The moon was shining hungrily illuminating the room, but not enough to impede what was impossible to stop. "Sleep, sleep a lot. I could wait for you forever."

His promises remained in the air and on deaf ears. With selfishness in his heart, he rose above you positioning himself above you allowing his face to fall on your neck where he sipped from your charming scent that tempted him to follow. Your legs were side by side on his hips, he brought his body closer to yours. He couldn't bear to go on pretending to be the good guy, he was the only one.

"Please do not leave me..."

His sobs were trapped between the four walls, he was sick. He begged for forgiveness. Mercy he did not deserve. I was hoping that you could see him again directly as always, with a smile and your soft voice wishing him a good morning.

His calm, gentle kisses turned desperate, angry, and somewhat cruel. Leaving exaggerated marks all over your body, I wish it long ago. However, he was never heard.

Now he had what he wanted.

He felt complete by your side. His parents loved him as if they depended on their love, but they were certainly false in his head. Jungkook happily recalled how they prevented him from using his own money, how they seemed to put walls in front of him to prevent him from going to live alone, and how they rejected that he was in love with someone of the same gender.

His father called it disgusting and a shame, his mother was silent crying in his hands covering her grief.

Their bodies were never discovered. The police felt useless in front of their eyes, they apologized for their incompetence. They had fallen off a bridge where they always went to pray, where Jungkook knew they were asking for forgiveness and then committing the same sins again.

He planned his move cunningly, moving his pieces one by one.

He amused himself like a child killing a pawn of his competition.

He made an account of his crimes, his parents, Taehyung's best friend who was the harmless Park Jimin, his boss's former secretary who after being fired was strangely run over by a car that was never discovered, also remembers your insolent neighbor who seemed to enjoy stalking you, Jungkook remembers how I completely hate him. His hands on her neck made it clear when she hated him, he was disgusting.

He applauded happily, he felt very good about himself seeing that he made up his mind about so many people who for him were a plague in this world. It was like a child receiving a gift, his hands took the pen on his desk writing the last name on his list for now. Red ink stained the paper, a smile invaded his face.

𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓣𝓪𝓮𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓰.

A gasp left his lips watching your figure move on the bed, he got up from his seat to watch you wake up. You looked so innocent, but now you were stained.

You carried her future child within you, he tried very hard to get you pregnant. You never noticed how he always managed to put powdered sleeping pills in your food every night since he got tired of just looking at you. Then he only had to enter your house like a ghost, his moans of pleasure were silent as he collided with you, fucking you hard with the thought and idea that you would carry his son in your womb.

So, you would never want to leave.

You will learn to love the monotony of being the wife and mother of Jeon Jungkook's son.

After all, he was never a fool.

[buildmeafairytale]

Female Reader x Male Selkie

This is my very first commission! I was commissioned by @shy-basementchild for a birthday present for her friend, @anjhope1. They’re the sweetest and I’m so glad I got to write this for them! It was fun to write and a new experience to write for someone other than myself. I hope you guys enjoy reading it and if anyone is interested in a commission or monster match, my ko-fi is here. 

You leave your house in the afternoon and the cool air is nothing but a familiar comfort under the layers you have on. Like most days, the rocky beach beckons you to its shore. You manuvare the cliffs like you’ve done it a thousand times. You probably have by now. This place has been home for a while now. The town is more of a small fishing village but there’s a touristy block that has lots of shops that you frequent. It’s a cold and rainy place, but it just makes your house feel all the cozier for it.  

The beach is even colder, with the chill turning your nose rosie. You breathe in the crisp air, relishing in the way it stings your lungs. You gaze out towards the rolling waves only to see what looks like a head poking out of the water. It’s foggy and far enough away that you convince yourself it’s a seal, not dwelling on it while you take your walk. 

You’ve established a routine in this seaside village. You do a bit of freelance work in the mornings and leave the afternoons for your adventuring, finding the best coffee spots and shops in town. But the beach is your favorite by far. From the way the rocks crunch under your foot to the rhythmic sounds of the waves lapping the shore, this was your happy place. 

The next day is quite the same. You walk your beach, picking up stray bits of trash you find. This time when you look out to the ocean, the head that pops up looks much more like a man’s than a seal. Your breath catches in your throat and you can’t tear your eyes away. He’s still so far away, bobbing along with the waves and seemingly staring right back at you. And then he’s gone, just as quickly as he was there. As you walk the hair on the back of your neck prickles. You feel like you’re being watched but every time you turn to look no one is there. 

This goes on, but the next few times he seems to get closer. It takes some time to come to terms with the fact your mind isn’t playing tricks on you, but by the time he’s closer to the shore you can no longer deny it. You wave and he just tilts his head and stares. You’re confused and unsure about things, and feel a bit crazy. You wonder if the fishermen working the docks would know anything about the mysterious man in the water so you make a trip down there

The docks are several miles up the beach, and you always make a point to avoid it. It’s bustling with people going between boats emptying lobster traps and the air smells like fish. You're nervous and watching your feet, making sure you don’t misstep on the slippery wood underneath you. You feel like everyone is looking at you but hardly anyone has seemed to bat an eye at your presence, all of them too busy to worry about you. You keep scanning the crowd in hopes of finding someone to ask about your man in the water. You’re ready to give up when you lock eyes with a man. A man you would recognize anywhere, since you’ve seen him everyday floating in the waves.

He is a presence and something to behold. He sits high up on a fishing barrel and his feet are still firmly planted on the ground. Muscular legs connect to a thick middle wrapped in a classic fisherman’s sweater. Long chestnut hair is tied back from his face and he holds a knife and apple in his hands. You stare and he raises his hand in greeting. The noise of the docks retreats to a buzzing in the back of your mind and you hold your breath. Time stands still and butterflies build before you're being bumped into by busy workers. The spell is broken and you rush out apologies for being in the way. You turn and leave as quickly as you came, having even more questions than when you arrived. 

The next day you’re at your beach early with a book to occupy your time. You decide to stay there until you get some answers. You’re comfortable waiting and hope maybe he’ll come say hello. The grey eyes haunt you every time you close your own and you are restless. Was he some sort of creep, watching you from the water? He certainly didn’t look like the type to spy on women. He didn’t look like the type that would have to, gosh. Not that his good looks automatically made him trustworthy, but they certainly lowered your inhibitions. 

While you were lost in thought of the handsome stranger, he had materialized in the sea not a hundred feet away from you. It startled you, but you waved anyway. 

“Hi!” you yell out, tired of the voiceless staring contest that has been occurring. His lips twitch and he echoes your sentiment.

“Hi there,” he calls back, bobbing in the water.

“Isn’t it a bit too cold to swim?”

“A bit too cold for you, maybe,” he observes, his voice amused and carrying without strain despite the sound of the crashing waves.

You don’t know how to respond to this and the conversation fades when he dips under the surface, popping up a few feet away from where he was. His movements in the water are graceful and he swims in little laps not far from you. His upper body is bare to you above the black water, and he is thick corded muscle under a layer of softness that makes you want to touch him. He says nothing else to you but he doesn’t protest to your eyes on him. He seems content to be in your company and it isn’t for another while that he swims away and around the side of a cliff face, waving goodbye at you. You lose sight of him and while part of you is worried, the other part of you knows he must do this often and is obviously a practiced swimmer. 

He’s there before you the next day and chattier too. He tells you his name is Aegis and asks you for yours. He asks what you do for work and how you like living in the small town. You tell him about your house up on the cliff and how much you love it. For how brooding and intimidating you first had found him, he was quickly becoming a friend. The conversation flowed easily and was comfortable, the two of you bantering a bit too.

“There’s so much beach, too. I love to see the water.”

“Not much to do besides sit at the beach, yeah?” 

You shrug, “I like it here, it’s quiet. Or used to be, not that I oppose the company,” you jest at him, watching him take it all in stride. 

“I’d hope not,” he flashes you a grin, “can’t have my beach buddy getting sick of me so soon.” 

You give him a goofy grin back, trying to tamper down the butterflies growing in your stomach. You sit closer to him and the water, finding a comfortable seat on a washed up driftwood tree. “Maybe when it warms up I’ll join you for a swim,” you speak softly, picking at shells and rocks you like. You squeal when cold water splashes you, Aegis laughing when he has your attention.

“You ass!” you squeal out, going to splash him back. He bobs under the water again to evade you, an unmistakable grin stretched across his face. Your hand goes in the water to splash him back but it’s so cold it hurts and stings at your skin. That snaps you out of your playful game, and when Aegis comes up and sees the serious look in your eyes he tilts his head. 

“What’s that look for?”

“Aegis, seriously, how the hell are you okay to swim? You aren't even wearing a wetsuit!. I don’t know how you don’t get hypothermia! ” You’re concerned and can’t help but reprimand him, unsure how he manages to not even have red skin from the water.

“I guess I’m just built different, lovely,” he says with an easy smile, leaning into a backstroke.  

“Oh, built to withstand freezing cold water? Yeah, you’re different all right,” you tease back, retreating out of the water’s reach. 

Things go on like this for days and the two of you get familiar with each other’s schedules, seamlessly working into the other’s routine. Aegis seems down today though, and he doesn't hesitate to inform you why. 

“I have to go on a charter for a few days. I won’t be back until Tuesday,” he pouts, his pillowy lips exaggerated. You try not to let them distract you too much but he smirks like he notices you looking. You play along, pouting back.

“Aw, you’re gonna miss me too much?” you tease, despite knowing the next several days without him aren’t going to be as fun. 

“Desperately,” he says back, in an all too serious way that makes your heart race. He winks and grins, dispelling the intensity and turning things playful again, something he seemed greatly skilled at. He flirts in jokes but never leaves any tension or pressure lingering which you were grateful for. 

The days he is gone feel as if they last forever. It’s silly, really, how fond you’ve grown of him in such a short amount of time. You avoid the beach completely while he’s gone, knowing it will just make you miss your friend even more. Despite the way the time crawls by, though, Tuesday morning eventually comes around. 

Something shocking greets you when you arrive at your beach that day. Aegis is there, but is perched on a large flat boulder. Instead of the thick legs you saw filling his jeans like you did on the docks, his lower half is that of a seal. It’s longer than his legs would be and heavy with blubber. He studies your reaction and you’re fascinated. You’ve heard talk of selkies before, the legend being popular in this part of the country, but you hardly thought you would see one in real life. 

You try to look less confused than you are, not wanting to hurt aegis with an adverse reaction. You can feel his eyes on you, watching you watch him. 

“Uh, hi?” you say to him, getting a calculating ‘hello’ back.

You nod to yourself while looking at him, “Okay, this makes sense? This is a better explanation than I had, at least.”

 “Trying to rationalize my swimming habits, lovely?”

“Trying to rationalize you, lovely.” you toss back, feeling better when the same devious grin he’s worn around you makes an appearance. It’s still Aegis, and this is who he is. Or part of him, apparently. 

“I wanted to show you, but I have a rule, lovely.”

“Rule?” you ask him, confused.

“Yes, a rule. Humans have taken advantage of my kind far too many times. So if I’m showing you this, and I’m going to keep coming back to see you, I need you to listen to me,” he tells you, full intensity focused on you. He goes on to explain the history of his people, the power of the sealskin, and the way humans would steal them to control selkies. He tells you in the past someone tried to steal his sealskin, but he could feel their intentions and replaced it with a fake, catching them in the act. These stories obviously pain him, and hearing about the kind selkies being taken advantage of in such a way is enough to make your heart clench. 

“Never touch my sealskin.” He says, informing you of his rule. 

“I would never,” you vow, throat tight with emotion. He nods at you, and then smiles. “Well come on then, out with the questions.” He doesn’t have to ask you twice, beckoning you close. You sit by him and let the questions start. They pour out of your lips and he answers them readily with a gleam in his eyes. 

You’ve never been this close to him and you really soak in his appearance. His tail is mottled with creamy spots and patches, reminding you a little of your own birthmark. His lower half looks so soft and squishy but you know it must be powerful. Hair dusts his chest and other human skin, the curls making you want to run your hands over them. 

It feels like some beautiful dream. You thank him for sharing this part of him with you and head home for the day, but as soon as you’re inside you're doubting that it really happened. But it did, and you see him again and again, each time feeling less like a daydream and more like a wonderful and magical reality. 

“Your hair is going to get so tangled like that,” you tell him one day as he swims, watching his hair trail after him in the water. You wince in sympathy when you imagine him picking out the knots. 

He grunts, “You’re telling me, I go through so much conditioner getting the knots out,” he responds, peeved. 

“Well swimming with it down would do that! Why don’t you let me braid it?” you offer, instantly regretting it. The thought of sitting that close to him, of feeling the heat off of his skin as you run your hands through his hair is enough to make you feel light headed. Say no thanks, you think, unsure how you’ll handle this. Of course, he readily agrees. 

“Okay,” he smiles, and you turn to let him get out of his sealskin and cover up. He sits in front of you and his shoulders part your thick thighs. You pick up his hair and it’s a matted mess. You don’t feel like running up to your house to get any tools so you slowly part the tangles with your fingers.

“It’s a knotted mess, Aegis,” you scold, trying not to hurt his scalp. He whines and exaggerates his wincing, acting as if you’re wounding him. “Big baby,” you mutter, sectioning off chunks with your hands. By the time it’s braided and secured with your extra tie the sun is going down. He’s slumped against you, sleepy. 

“It’s supposed to be nice tomorrow, pretty girl. Swim with me?” he asks, voice slurred. You’re hesitant, not because you don’t trust him, but you’re a bit embarrassed about the idea of him seeing so much of your body. 

“I have a birthmark,” you mutter, not looking at him. He turns and frowns at you with his forehead scrunched. 

“Okay, and? You don’t owe me anything, but you know I have a literal tail right?”

“Oh what, you showed me yours and now I show you mine?” you giggle at him.

“I don’t think I’ve shown you anything yet,” he winks at you, flirting back while he gets up. The two of you get ready to leave your beach, packing things away. Aegis grabs his sealskin, but instead of putting it on he neatly folds it. “Would you give me a ride home? If you don’t mind, I mean. All dried off and I don't want to get in again.”

“Of course, just let me get my keys.” 

The drive is quiet and comfortable, and his house isn’t far. To be fair though, nothing in this town is very far. When you pull into his driveway he leans over and kisses you on the cheek, eliciting a small gasp from you. 

“Goodnight, sweet girl,” he tells you, an easy smile on his face. You feel your own heat up and you mumble back a goodnight. Your cheek tingles with his kiss your whole drive home. 

In the morning you’re there earlier than normal and in your bathing suit trying not to look nervous about his reaction. Your birthmark stretches across and over a great deal of your skin, and while a lot of people assure you that it is unique and beautiful, you have been ridiculed plenty for it in the past. It makes you nervous to show new people and you only reveal it to those you trust. But you trust Aegis and he obviously trusts you too. 

It’s as if Aegis can sense your nerves because he doesn’t make you wait long and talks you into the water right away. He compliments you but doesn’t linger or talk about your birthmark, only pulling you in the water with him. The cold has you sucking in air and your nipples pebbling in your swimsuit but Aegis pulls you close. The heat coming off of his body works to warm you, making the swim much more doable. 

“You’re not luring me out into the ocean to drown me or anything, right?” you ask, legs bumping into his tail. 

“I’m a selkie, not a siren,” he tsks, “we’re much nicer, I might just dunk you a few times,” he retorts, swimming further out. 

“Um, are there sharks out here?” you ask him, suddenly aware of how far you are from shore.

“I’ve never had a problem with them,” he shrugs casually, doing nothing to assuage your worries. 

“Sharks eat seals, ya know,” you point out to him.

“Good thing I have you here to protect me then, huh?” he teases, curling your legs around his middle. Once you’re secure, he gives a few strong thrusts of his tail and sends the two of you back closer to shore. You play in the water most of the day and go up to your house to eat. He showers and you take him home again, only after he insists you re-braid his hair. 

You spend more time together and swimming with him quickly becomes the best part of your day. He kisses your cheek every time you drop him off at home too, his lips lingering more and more. The touches shared as you swim together have gotten less and less innocent as well. You find yourself falling for him and you think he likes you too, but one day the two of you reach a breaking point. You’re having a nice picnic after a long swim when things take a turn. 

You reach across Aegis’s lap for the pitcher of juice, rattling on about your day, when it slips out of your hand. It spills onto his seal skin, and you don’t think you’ve ever panicked so quickly. “I’m so sorry! Oh my gosh let me clean that,” you grab towels to try to dab up your mess, picking up his seal skin in the process. Apologies keep falling from your lips but then you notice that Aegis is just staring at you with a clenched jaw. You gasp and drop the sealskin, realizing what you’ve done. As soon as it falls from your grasp, Aegis has it in his own, finally able to move to do so. He stands and starts to walk towards the shore and already has the sealskin halfway wrapped around himself before you can belt out another apology. 

He wades into the water and you run to try to catch up. You get close, begging him to wait, until he finally turns to you. “I had one rule!” he barks out at you, seething. “You’re just like everyone else! How dare you!” His words are laced with venom, and you can’t help but step back as if he’s striked you. There is a block in your throat and you don’t say anything else, you only stand there and watch him leave, taking his selkie form and swimming into the depths. 

Pitiful whimpering noises start to leave you, and since you’re all alone you let yourself cry. You’re ashamed you slipped up and touched his pelt, unable to get the betrayed look on his face out of your head. You’re angry at him too for not listening or giving you the benefit of the doubt, though. Some friend he was, you pout, shakily hiking up the cliffside. 

You hope that Aegis will come around. The guilt is like rolling concrete in your stomach and you try to assure yourself that things will be okay. You just go through the motions to try to make yourself feel better, showering and taking your time brushing out your hair. Everytime you blink, though, his angry eyes are there, looking so accusatory back at you. It was an accident, you know you didn’t mean to, you tell yourself, wishing you could take back your mistake. 

You go back to your beach the next day, hoping he’ll be there. He isn’t, and he isn’t there the next either. Or the day after that. You’re getting fed up with him avoiding you. You just want to talk things out and have your friend back, but it seems as though he is  set on being stubborn about it. 

You’ve been stress cooking the last few days, and when you looked to survey the damage you realize that you made most of Aegis’s favorite foods. The plan falls together then and you package it up to bring it to him at work. This could very well be crossing some boundaries but you could deal with that if it meant Aegis would forgive you. 

Traversing the docks is just as nerve racking at it was the first time, this time maybe even more so since you’re carrying a hot dish with you. You duck under the arms of the people towering over you, and you finally get to the stretch of winding docks Aegis can usually be found dwelling on. And he is there, sitting right next to his boat like you expect him to be. What you don’t expect, however, is the stunning woman sitting next to him, stroking his arm in a too familiar way. She’s almost tall as he is with a scarf tied around her hair in an effortless way. You feel your heart sink into your stomach when they both turn and see you. 

All of the sudden you feel ridiculous and humiliated, standing on the docks with a tupperware of food for a man who has already apparently moved on from you. You’re a deer caught in the headlights, but the woman starts to stand and smile at you. You pivot on your feet and hurry back the way you came, maneuvering through the crowd with a level of ease provided by your small stature. The whole walk home your face is burning in embarrassment. This isn't some stubborn silent treatment after a fight. You had broken his one rule and now all the romantic gestures and sweet words meant nothing. 

You know there was nothing official or set in stone, hell, the two of you hadn’t even really kissed yet, but it certainly felt like things were leading that way. Your eyes burn when you think of the way his lips lingered on your cheeks and the way he let you wrap yourself around him in the water. You think of him doing those things with another woman and feel sick to your stomach. You enjoyed life just fine before you met him, and you tell yourself you will enjoy life just the same now that he wants nothing to do with you. It was an obvious lie, especially to yourself. You cry when you reach the safety of your home, wrapping yourself in a nest of blankets you refuse to leave. 

You eventually have to leave though, just to get some fresh air and try to shock yourself into feeling better. Instead of walking your shore, you end up at one of the cliffs looking down on the water. You don’t stray too close to the edge in fear of the height but it still provides you a great view of the ocean. You sit and watch the waves crash against the rocks below. 

While you’re up there, you hear a car sputtering in the distance. You watch it get close and pull into your driveway and out steps one of the friends you made in town. His name is Jamie, and he works at the touristy coffee shop you frequent. “Hey!” he waves, walking over to you on gangly legs. “I hope you don’t mind me stopping by, you’re always gushing about this place and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he tells you, giving you a boyish grin. He’s sweet and you don’t mind him joining you.

It feels good to reclaim your beach like this, hanging out with a new friend. Jamie is nice and genuine and has no rules to follow when it comes to your relationship with him. He feels safe and easy. After the first day he comes by, you don’t expect him to come back. But he does, he comes back again with your favorite drink order in hand. “I got your usual,” he tells you, a bright smile on his face when you open your door to him. 

“Aw thanks, you didn’t have to do that!” you tell him, excited and flattered by the gesture. He just shrugs and smiles at you more, scratching at the back of his neck. “Let me just get my coat,” you say, ready for another walk on the beach. He is too, and you spend the day rattling on to one another. He’s a little awkward and it makes you feel awkward too, but it’s more endearing than anything. You can’t help that your gaze keeps wandering out to the sea, waiting to see Aegis between the waves. You don’t, though, even if you think you feel his eyes on you. 

“You okay?” 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts, “Sorry,” you smile, “just daydreaming a bit is all.” Daydreaming about your days here spent with Aegis, the sun shining in his ocean grey eyes. You miss him and wish things had ended differently. 

Jamie sits on a rock and you follow his lead, getting comfortable and enjoying the rare moment of sunshine. Jamie suddenly clears his throat next to you, catching your attention. “Would you,” he sputters on, his cheeks pink, “would you want to go on a date sometime? I’d really love to take you on one.” Your heart is pounding and ears are ringing. This sort of thing always makes you anxious but you’re stopped before you’re able to respond. 

“No.”

A firm and angry voice sounds from behind you. If you thought you were nervous before, it was nothing compared to this. Jamie’s gaze is locked above your head and he looks confused. 

“Uh, I wasn’t asking you?” 

“She will not be going on a date with you. I’d say sorry but I’m not,” Aegis snaps out, and you stop yourself from turning to look at him. 

“Aegis, what the fuck?” The woman from before is there too then, and you finally look at them. They’re both dripping wet and carrying seal skins. The woman is a selkie too, then. Your heart drops and it makes sense he would rather be with her. She was gorgeous and surely easier to trust than a human. 

 “I’m so sorry for my brother’s behavior,” she scowls, “he can be a real dickhead sometimes.” 

“Brother?” you ask, shock lacing your voice. Aegis and his sister snap their attention to you, then, and his face morphs from a mask of fury to one of understanding and sadness. He comes closer after a pause. 

“Yes, sweet girl, my sister. You thought the worst of me, yeah?”

Jamie chimes in “Uh, sweet girl?” he asks “Oh! Oh shoot, sorry, gosh, sorry I thought you were single.” Jamie looks at you though, and sees your red cheeks and your inability to form a response and comes to your aid. “Actually, do you want to go home? You look uncomfortable.” You just nod and get your things, grateful to have a friend like him. 

“Yeah, I think I should head home. Um, I’ll talk to you later Jamie. Nice to meet you, by the way,” you say, polite and looking at Aegis’s sister.

“Were you...swimming? It’s freezing!” is the last thing you hear Jamie say before you’re rushing away.

Aegis tails you to your house, pleading with you. “Please, at least let me talk to you,” he begs, desperation clear in his voice. You’re out of breath from your quick ascent up from the beach and too flustered and embarrassed to talk to him. You’re angry that he thinks he could ignore you after blowing up on you and then come back acting like he had some sort of claim on you. 

“Not now,” is all you manage to say.

“Aegis! For fucks sake, leave her be!” his sister yells out, and you’re grateful for the intervening. You head inside your house and leave the rest of them outside. Jamie leaves and Aegis and his sister head back down towards the water, likely leaving the same way they came. Aegis looks back several times, catching your eye in the window. I’ll talk to him soon, you think. Just not right now, not until you sort out the mess of feelings you have. 

You can’t help but be conflicted. Seeing Aegis standing there dripping wet and all possessive over you stirred your desire. You have to remind yourself to be angry and stand your ground. He needs to learn how to communicate, not just act like a neanderthal and manage to win you back based on sheer attractiveness. His words still stung and he had lots of making up to do. 

As you busy yourself in your home, you see dark clouds gathering through your window. You turn on the local news and it looks like a bad storm is set to ravage your town. You’re nervous. You knew the rainy season could be bad here but the locals often discussed the occasional hurricane-eske storms that tear through. You are unsure how well your home will hold up. You try to secure what you can and get ready to hunker down for a while. 

Sure enough, thunder starts to rumble. It’s deep and shakes the earth beneath you. The wind and rain howl outside and you pray your generator holds up. You entertain yourself for a bit, curled up watching a movie, but soon enough the weather is too bad to concentrate on anything else. When an especially loud bout of thunder hits you start to feel panicky. It rattles your windows and you make a point to stay away from them. They rattle so loudly that you almost miss the pounding on your door. 

Almost, though. When you realize someone is knocking your heart beats even faster. You pick up the closest thing you could use as a weapon, unsure who could be here. You peek through and see Aegis standing outside, soaked to the bone. You’re relieved that it’s him, but not entirely happy he’s here. You wrench the door open and allow him in, the wind promptly slamming the door back into place. He settles onto a stool and you stay on the opposite side of the room, occupying yourself with looking outside.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he explains, and you nod. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“I didn’t mean to touch it, Aegis. I really didn’t! And you know that and still left,” you manage to get out past the knot in your throat. 

“Aye, I know. I made a mistake, I got angry.” His voice gets softer, “I got scared, my sweet girl.” 

You sniffle and look away, annoyed at the effect he has on you. He crumbles down your walls one word at a time. 

“I was stupid and didn’t know what to do. My sister had to come talk some sense into me.”

“I didn’t think she was your sister,” you mumble and he nods, giving you a watery smile.

“I’m sorry for that, too. After I saw you with that man on the beach I was so angry. She reminded me I had no right to be, I had no claim on you. I didn’t like hearing that,” he says. He stands then, eyes locked on your own.

You are on the other side of the room, backed up against your wall. As if the space between you could stop the pull of your heart. Your eyes are wide and flooded over and you don’t care to hold your tears back anymore. He walks towards you and he holds his sealskin in his hands. The closer he gets to you, the more you can feel your knees buckling. You feel them lock right as Aegis locks an arm around your waist, wrapping his seal skin over your shoulders at the same moment. When the pelt brushes against your skin and envelops you in its warmth, you feel more at peace than you have in days. It is like Aegis’s very being is intertwining around yours. His essence permeates through your skin and curls around your cells, and you relish it and relax into his hold. You knew the sealskin had magic to it but you didn’t realize how much it would affect you.  

“What-what are you doing?” you whimper out, making no move to stop him.

“I want you to know I trust you. I want you to trust me too. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, sweet girl,” he says. “After my tantrum and being away from you, I realized I’d give you my damn sealskin if it meant I could be yours.” He wipes away your stray tears and brushes your hair out of your face, gentling you. “Shhh, I’ve got you. No more crying, not because of me,” he pleads. 

“O-okay,” you reply, wobbly and unsure what else to say. The euphoric feeling of his sealskin is still lingering and you know he’s speaking the truth to you.  

“My love,” he cooes, “won’t you let me earn your forgiveness?”

You sniffle and nod, stretching toward him for a kiss, a real one. He obliges you, his bearch a scratchy comfort to your flushed skin, grounding you. He tastes like salt and wind, his kiss flavored by the sea. It’s chaste but perfect and when lightning strikes and sounds you break away from his lips only to curl further into his arms. A fearful noise escapes you and you bury your face into his neck. His hands rub your back and you take some deep breaths. If your house has lasted this long then it’ll be okay. You’re safe in his arms with his sealskin warm around you. 

You pull back, intent on kissing him more thoroughly this time. He is eager too and pulls you flush against him. He pulls you away from the wall and shuffles you onto the couch, not allowing a centimeter space to form between your bodies. You kiss him over and over, soft moans leaving you every time his lips mould to your own. His hands find your skin under your sweater and you are eager for more, burying your own in his hair. . 

“Let me lay you down,” he says, “let me show you how much I missed you.” 

Heat has gathered between your legs and the tingling of the sealskin on your flesh feels as though it has concentrated itself there. You pinch them together and he notices, pulling a leg over his hip to grind into your center. You whimper into his mouth, his lips pulling into a smile. He strips you of your sweater and makes sure to plant kisses across your birthmark. You lose the rest of your clothes and as his hands wander, so do your own. 

You tease his waistband, slowly slipping your hand inside. He rumbles a deep encouraging noise and you take him in hand. His cock is thick and heavy, pulsing in your grasp. It’s bigger than anything you’ve taken before and you aren’t sure that it’ll fit. You tell him as much, looking up at him with wide lust filled eyes. 

“It’ll fit sweetheart,” he whispers, his fingers tracing the crease of your labia. “I’ll make sure you’re ready for me.” 

He parts your folds and coats his fingers, your legs spreading to give him more room. He dips the tips of his fingers just barely inside of you, becoming familiar with your entrance. You aren’t good at being patient, though, and his cock is so close. You arch and moan, shifting further toward him and presenting yourself only for him to halt your movements. “Don’t tease,” you whimper out, only earning an amused laugh from your selkie. 

“Alright then,” he kisses you with a smiling mouth, “no teasing,” he says, promptly thrusting two of his thick digits into you. A surprised moan is torn from your throat and he glides through your walls easily, aided by your arousal. He scissors and curls his fingers in and out, stretching you open for him and spreading around your wetness. His thumb finds you clit and your mouth falls open, making room for his tongue to tangle with your own in a sloppy kiss that makes your cunt tighten.  

“Please,” you beg him, “I want you,”

“You beg so pretty,” he relents, fingers retreating after a final movement. 

He places himself between your legs, bending to kiss you again as he does. He kisses your cheek too before rising back up. He presses and rubs himself between your lips, making sure he’s covered in your wetness. His hips stutter when the head of his cock meets your folds but you paw at his shoulders, wordlessly pleading with him to continue. As he splits you apart underneath him a shaky breath leaves his lips. He hilts himself and stays there for a moment, soaking in the feel of your velvet cunt pulsing around him. You tighten around him in an attempt to get him to move. You try to tilt your hips up but he grabs them, forcing them in place. 

“Don’t move,” he gasps out, looking strung out above you. His head is tilted back and his eyes are closed. He’s beautiful and all yours. The magic of his pelt connects the two of you on a deeper level that has you feeling floaty and out of control, but the stretch of his cock and feel of his hands ground you.

A whine leaves you and you clench down on him, hoping to spur him into action. “Fuck,” he sputters, pushing even harder into you. You can feel him so deeply and it’s impossible to tell where one of you ends and the other begins. 

“Aegis,” you moan out, “move, please.” you cry out, nails digging into him. With a clenched jaw he follows your request. He retreats then pumps into you again, slowly but forcefully. His pace starts slow and he fully hilts himself inside of you each time. Your hips twitch up and the head of his cock notches against a spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling up into your head. He notices and makes a point to angle his hips toward it. Your legs turn to jello as he speeds up, snapping his legs against you. You reach down and rub your clit, Aegis encouraging you. 

“You take me so well. Fucking made to be wrapped around me, weren’t you?” he says, “That’s right, take your pleasure,” he whispers, his hot breath on the shell of your ear. His words have a tightness building in your gut, the coil wrapping tighter and tighter until you cry out in release. With you cumming underneath him Aegis can’t hold back any longer. He drives into you with rhythmless thrusts and moans out above you, a high pornographic sound that has aftershocks running through you as he spills inside of you. Little jerks of his hips extend your pleasure as the two of you slowly sink together.

Aegis is twitching and cooing at you as the haze clears from your mind. He wraps his arms and legs around you, the heavy limbs tangling with your own. He nuzzles into you as content as can be. Sweat is cooling on your skin and he covers the two of you with a throw blanket, the storm outside long forgotten. Your face is peppered in kisses as you drift to sleep, his pelt still a comfort underneath you. 

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 10

Masterlist

Shoutout to my bestie @acollectionofficsandshit for all the drunk comments she made while betaing this one... Wish you guys could see them lol

Word Count: 4.8k

Recommended song: “Amnesia" by 5SOS

Pierre paces in his dinky trailer at the Circuit of the Americas and desperately tries to forget you exist. He had already taken down the pictures on the wall but the images were burned into his brain. He had shoved your shirt under his bed, having absolutely no idea how it had made its way halfway around the world to taunt him.

He was slowly unraveling like a spool of thread on a loom as you wove him irrevocably into the tapestry of your life.

The race in Austin started in less than two hours and you hadn't texted him. Not once in the handful of years he'd known you had you neglected to wish him luck before a race, even if it was 2 am your time or you had exams, you always took thirty seconds to warn him to be safe and finish well.

He was beginning to think you hated him for how he'd acted at the gala last weekend, jealous and possessive from afar. Talking to you would have been the better choice. But seeing you laugh and dance the night away had hurt too much. He’d slipped out early after Victoria assured him she could find a ride and sped home to fall apart.

He had only barely managed to piece himself together in time for the race.

Pierre checks his phone for the third time in as many minutes and swears under his breath. He didn't know why he expected it to ring and for your face to pop up at this point. Even if you called to tear into him, he'd still fall to his knees at the sound of your voice. He just wanted to hear you speak, didn't care what was said, only that he could latch onto your words and lose himself in them.

Hope sparks when his phone chimes but he nearly throws it across the trailer when he sees Charles' name.

Heard from her yet?

No. At this point I'm beginning to think I never will again.

Maybe she fell asleep early?

It's 5 pm in London. I'll bet you she's eating a bowl of takeout from the Chinese place down the street, not sleeping.

Its still possible. Don't dwell on it. This isn't the headspace you wanna be in before a race. Block it out. I don't wanna see my best friend wind up hurt today.

Pierre didn't reply, if only because Charles was right. Worrying would get him nowhere. After his shitty qualifying yesterday, he started thirteenth on the grid so he had his work cut out for him. Austin offered plenty of opportunity for overtakes; he could get the job done if his team made the right calls. 

And if he made it to the podium, you would have to text him.

The thin mattress groans when he sits to unlace his hastily tied race boots. He folds his legs to sit criss cross and places his palms on his knees. The familiar pose already has some of the tension leaving his shoulders as his eyes slide shut. He breathes in for ten seconds, reflecting on what ails him. He holds the breath for five seconds before releasing it slowly.

He repeats the process until he comes to terms with the fact that you won't be wishing him luck. That was your choice; there was nothing he could do about it and therefore no sense reading into it. He had done all he could to convince you to trust him. The ball was in your court; he had to be patient and wait for you to take a shot.

“Focus,” he murmurs to himself, forcing any erroneous thoughts from his head. “Walk through the track.”

The circuit at Austin was challenging, consisting of a mix of 20 sweeping corners and scattered hairpins. He was almost lucky in a way to be starting so far back on the grid because turn one was only a few hundred meters from pole and their tires would be slightly colder and less grippy upon arrival than his would be. The few extra seconds afforded to him by starting thirteenth could mean the opportunity to leap frog past his rivals in the first corner.

The counterclockwise circuit meant he would have to keep an eye on his front left tire too, as it would wear faster than the others. He'd change gears an average of 66 times per lap, higher than similar length tracks like Monaco. Pit stops cost an average of nineteen seconds, meaning he would need to build a significant gap to the driver chasing him in order to avoid the threat of any undercuts.

There were too many variables occupying space in his mind to afford you a sliver of it.

Some time later he decides that his four leaf clover tucked safely in the worn leather of his wallet will provide all the luck he needs and switches on his pre race playlist after popping in his ear buds.

"Sights on the podium," he murmurs to himself, hand on the doorknob. "Let's race."

The bass flows through him as his feet carry him to the Alpha Tauri garage on autopilot, through the back entrance and to his plain white driver room. The familiar beats are a numbing salve spread on his frayed nerves, his anticipation rising like a crimson wave in his veins. He leaves his clothes in a haphazard heap in the corner and changes into the white fireproofs hanging nearby, thoughts momentarily veering to you knocking on the door and stripping them right back off.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he runs through his usual stretch sets until Pyry arrives to walk him through reflex exercises.

"How's your head?" Pyry asks, running him through more cool down stretches. "Do we need to take a minute and do some meditation?"

"Beat you to it," Pierre grunts out, pushing back against the hand on his head to work his neck. "I'm good."

"You sound better than you have all week, I'll give you that. Keep that focus, use it to propel yourself forward."

"Run me through the lineup again," Pierre requests, "I need something else to think about."

Because if he let his mind follow the path it wanted to, it would inevitably lead to you and undo the work he had done to avoid that. He needed to be empty of anything that wasn't racing, anything else was an unnecessary distraction that had the potential to end in disaster.

Pyry rattles off the grid in order of who Pierre needs to overtake, pausing between each name to give him time to recall their driving styles and potential chinks in their armor to exploit. He knew from tapes of previous years that Stroll often ran wide into turn one, giving Pierre the option to brake late and sweep up the inside. Vettel was half convinced the track was cursed, so his mind would work against him enough that Pierre could exploit it and get past at some point. He continued until he got to Hamilton and Max locking out the front row, where he would need a bit of luck to overtake.

"You got it?" Pyry asks, stepping back.

Pierre rolls his shoulders and nods. 

"Get shit done mate," Pyry says and bumps fists with his driver. He slips out to allow Pierre a moment to center himself before slipping into his race suit, leaving it half unzipped and tying it around his waist before following his trainer.

Pyry leads the way to where the matte navy and white car waits, mechanics swarming it like studious worker bees tending to their queen. No one talks to him save his engineer because words from anyone else threaten to break his carefully constructed race mentality. If they wanted him to bring home points, they knew to leave him alone once he was suited up.

His mind is blank of anything but statistics as he twists his ear buds in and pulls on his balaclava and helmet. As his vision narrows to the sliver of track he can see through his visor, so does his focus. With forty minutes to lights out, he's directed out onto the track. He rips the wheel to the right as he exits the garage, getting a decent powerslide for his efforts.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would land on the podium, if only to see the look on your face when he did.

**********

It took an unfathomable amount of restraint to keep yourself from calling Pierre to wish him luck.

You texted Max instead, wishing him a safe and comfortable podium a half hour before lights out. He hadn't responded, likely already in the garage with his trainer going through his pre race routine.

The pace Max had set the day before had awarded him pole position and the margin between him and Hamilton had been enough that you were confident in his ability to hold off the Mercedes for all fifty six laps.

If you were honest with yourself, you were disappointed that the Alpha Tauri you so desperately tried to ignore would be starting in thirteenth. You try not to think about it, instead queueing up SkySports and opening your laptop for pre race coverage. You avoid the interviews in favor of listening to the commentators analyze the grid.

"It should be an easy win for Max as long as he fends off Hamilton until the first round of pit stops. The undercut works well here, as Red Bull proved last year, and I'm sure they plan on doing the same thing this year."

You hum in agreement, gingerly sipping your steaming tea. You really ought to consider a career as a sportscaster at this point based on how often you came to the same conclusions they did.

"I think one of the biggest shakeups is Russell starting all the way up in eleventh after his amazing qualifying for Williams yesterday. Think he can hold onto that position?"

"He's got some fierce competition not far behind in the form of Alpha Tauri. Gasly starts thirteenth- surprisingly far back on the grid given the otherwise flawless performance he's shown this year. But it seems likely that he should be able to overtake-"

You flick the tv on mute, unable to stomach listening to them sing his praises. You numb your mind with social media until the Formula 1 theme plays on your laptop, alerting you that there's a few minutes until race start. Tire blankets are peeled off and the drivers weave their way through the formation lap with the exception of Kimi who takes his traditional straight line approach to warm up his supersoft tires. 

Most of the front runners are on ultrasofts, indicating a two stop strategy. It was Pirelli's recommended approach, and you were glad that Horner heeded their advice for once and let Max use the ultras in Q2. It would give Max the upper hand over Hamilton who starts on the yellow sidewall tire and thus slightly slower lap times.

Crofty and Brundle break down the notable turns as the cars line up on the grid, pointing out the sharp hairpin only a few hundred meters from pole position. If Max got away clean, he would be ahead of the cramped pack and have an even better edge over the silver arrows who would be forced to queue behind him.

The traditional "lights out and away we go" kicks off the grand prix, engines roaring into the first turn. Max does manage to get away clean and is awarded with an immediate advantage. Turn one proves tragic for the Alfa Romeo of Raikonnen and the Asthon Martin of Stroll who collide and cause Kimi to spin. They rejoin at the back of the pack, your eyes snagging on the navy and white of an Alpha Tauri as it streams past. 

Your heart spins in a similar fashion when the GAS driver tag leaps up two places in the timing table, suddenly in eleventh due to the incident. Your gaze snaps to the laptop humming on your legs before you remember its Max's driver cam you queued up. The Dutchman is silent as his engineer relays information about the incident and informs him of the widening gap between those chasing him. 

“Confirm received,” Gianpiero says calmly. No matter the situation or how heated Max got, he always kept his head. It was what made the duo such a good match and had likely kept Max from going off the rails on more than one occasion.

“Yeah,” Max says shortly, clearly pissed about how quickly Hamilton was approaching. “Let me know when I’ve got enough charge to get out of range.”

“Yep, will do. Just keep this pace and you’ll hold him at bay.”

Live coverage replays the incident between Stroll and Raikonnen from the view of onboard with Pierre. The instant the 10 on the halo appears in the center of your screen you suck in a breath. He yanks the wheel to avoid colliding with Ocon, who had to do the same to keep from hitting his teammate as they navigate through the carnage.

You chew on your lip and try to refocus on the battle between the front runners. Not much is happening in the midfield for the next thirty or so laps and Max just barely manages to build a solid enough gap between himself and Hamilton to dive into the pits comfortably without losing places. 

Your phone rings and you answer it without checking who it was as the only person you wouldn't answer was currently occupied.

"Hello?"

"Why the fuck didn't they pit Daniel?!"

You grin, noting the blistering beginning on his front left tire as SkySports switches to his onboard camera. "Because he's about to pass Charles," you tell Dan's girlfriend. She didn't call you often during races. It was likely that she knew you were nearing your wits end and this was her way of offering support.

"He won't be able to with those tires- oh." She breaks off when Daniel passes a DRS detection zone and his rear wing opens, allowing him to pass the Monegasque with ease. 

"Told you," you say with a touch of reprimand. "You're always too nervous about those things. Daniel knows how to drive, just trust him to get the job done and he'll bring home another trophy for your apartment."

"I don't live here," she points out and you roll your eyes. She had lived in London as long as you had known her, but she was almost always at Daniel's apartment whether he was in town or not. Daniel digs in as the camera follows him for a lap, highlighting the widening gap between the McLaren and the Ferrari.

"You basically do. At this point, you're paying rent for a dusty one bedroom apartment on the east side that you set foot in maybe once a month." She scoffs but you push on, "a waste of sterling if you ask me, when you're at Daniel's every time I ask you to do anything."

"You act like I never- there goes Pierre!"

His name sparks dread in your gut as your attention flicks back to the screen in time to see him overtake Bottas on the inside of turn one. He'd managed to claw up to fifth with the move, somehow gaining places while you weren't looking.

"Good for him," you croak, trying your best to be genuinely happy for him. He was pushing the car to the limit and you'd be amazed if he didn't wind up on the podium along with Dan and Max. Charles and Hamilton were the only ones in his way, and something told you Charles wouldn’t put up much of a fight when his mate reached his gearbox. Hamilton would prove a challenge but he had been making tiny mistakes all day. Nothing significant, though enough to add up to him barely holding onto second while Daniel rode his gearbox.

"He's got ten laps to get past those two," she murmurs as if momentarily forgetting you were on the phone. 

"Can we talk about literally anything else please?" You whisper, half tempted to shut off the race completely. 

"Babe, you have to face the music at some point. Either you never want to see him again or you love him, which is it?"

She never failed to be anything but brutally honest. You appreciate it because everyone else let you brush off your problems, but she called you on your bullshit. She would needle you about it until you folded.

"I think it's better for both of us if I pretend we never met, don't you?"

"Easier for you, yes," she agrees. "But it'll kill Pierre. You don't think you could keep in touch with him, just as friends?"

"I don't know if I can handle that. I can barely look at him without wanting to bawl my eyes out."

She sighs, pausing to contemplate what to say. Voice soft, she continues, "Why don't you just take him back? Clearly it's ruining both of you. Are you really gonna let the press wreck the best you ever had? I know its hard but-"

"I'm not like you," you cut in. "I can't just ignore the articles and the comments and pretend there aren't people out there that hate me for being with him. They came to my house, disrupted my family. Hell, Ben can't even go to school without being mobbed by his classmates demanding answers. If my suffering is what allows my family to go about their lives then so be it."

"If that's what you wanna believe."

You sigh, tangling your fingers in the hem of your shirt. "It is."

"Alright," she says, voice teetering on a knife's edge. "I know better than to try to change your mind when you're like this. He's on the podium by the way. Oh, and watch what you say to Max- Pierre will read into it."

She hangs up without a goodbye, leaving you to deal with the realization that the podium is indeed VER RIC GAS on your own. Your eyes are glued to the Red Bull and McLaren drivers, blatantly ignoring the one in the white suit as the anthems play and the champagne is sprayed, turning away to busy yourself with making coffee when Daniel hands his liquid filled race boot to third place.

You weren't quite sure how you were supposed to watch what you said to Max- there was no reason to in your mind. Max was your next closest friend on the grid and you had every right to congratulate him if you wanted to.

Resolute in your decision, you text Max and Daniel a quick congratulations before shutting off the TV and closing your laptop.

Max's insane custom ringtone he'd selected for himself nearly makes you jump out of your skin when it blares from your phone.

"Hey great race-"

"Did you see it? I wasn't sure if you'd watch it- did you see my move on Hamilton when he tried to get past me?" He was talking a mile a minute like he was still out on track. "I was like- and then Dan tried to overtake me on the final lap and I was like no way! And then-"

"Max," you chime in, dragging out the 'a' with a sing-song voice. "You're rambling."

"Oh right. Yeah but I made it! Led every lap and finished with another win."

"That's great." You force as much enthusiasm in the words as possible, trying to match his chaotic energy. "You did great. I know it probably doesn't mean much, but I'm proud to be your friend. You beat a world champ!"

"It means a lot-" 

"Who's that?"

You stiffen at the familiar cadence. You had assumed Max was back in the garage when he called, but he must have still been in the podium room. You could picture him in his race suit, smudges of grease and dirt staining the pristine white. Beads of sweat probably ran down his neck, begging to be brushed away by your tongue. 

"Uh, no one," Max says in a lame attempt to cover up his digression. "I gotta go," he whispers to you. 

"Let me talk-"

"Wait don't," you start, but the call ends abruptly and you blink. You stare down at your phone, completely dumbfounded. Of course his instinct would be to talk to you, to share the euphoria of a podium with you. It was the first victory in three years he wouldn't have you to celebrate with.

It was only a matter of time until his resolve popped like the cork on his champagne.

**********

Pierre's phone is in his hand as soon as Max hangs up. He hefts his trophy in the other, a wild grin on his sweaty face as he snaps a picture. He makes sure he's the only one in the frame, shamelessly wanting himself to be the center of your attention.

"Mate," Daniel pipes up, catching his eye, "you think that's a good idea?" 

Pierre sighs, cutting the Australian a glare. "I'm just trying to fill her in."

"Wasn't your plan to give her space?"

"It's been a week, isn't that long enough?"

"Take it from me, sometimes it takes months for someone to figure things out. Hell, you know how long it took me to sort through my feelings for-"

"I know," Pierre cuts in. "I know. I just- a snap can't hurt can it? C'mon, I just got a podium! If it goes bad I can blame it on the post race jitters."

Daniel holds up his hands and shrugs. "You're a grown man. Do what you want."

Pierre studies the photo, scrutinizing the way his hair was plastered to his head and the awkward way he'd posed to keep anyone but himself out of the frame. It's his genuine smile that he knows will do you in, and ultimately the reason he sends it.

His phone is a lead weight clutched in his grip as he winds through the paddock, constantly stopped by vips and team members congratulating him. None of what anyone says registers, he just tries his best to match their mood and sputter praises about his team's contributions to his podium. 

The snap you finally send back is only from the eyes up, but it's enough. He's surrounded by people in his driver room, but for ten seconds it might as well have just been him staring at a sliver of your face on a screen.

The tiny lines at the corners of your shining eyes tell him you're smiling, which is a step in the right direction even if you won't let him see your entire face. It's enough to reignite the hope that slumbered in his chest while waiting for you to pull the trigger and make a move.

He sends back a video of the people in the room, who cheer when they realize they're being filmed. 'Wish you were here,' is what he captions it and sends it without giving himself a chance to overthink.

Ten minutes pass with no reply.

The beer he’s already consumed have given him a pleasant buzz as well as an excuse to make a bad decision or two. He takes another video of the room to post to his Instagram story, 'Missing you' written in the lower left corner.

Fuck, he hopes you'll see it and regret leaving him on read. Instead all he gets is a text from Charles chastising him for stirring up drama.

Really Pierre?

Blame it on the alcohol, he texts back. 

I know you aren’t drunk. You can’t form a coherent sentence when you are.

Guess i gotta drink more then

Pierre doesn’t turn anyone bearing alcohol away. He's two celebratory shots deep when Daniel finds him sulking in a corner. "You've got my girl texting me freaking out over your story. I've seen it and I gotta agree with her. Was that really necessary?"

"She left me on read," Pierre says like that was enough explanation. His head was spinning and it was getting hard to keep the room upright. "And it's the truth. I miss her like hell. I want her here. She was supposed to come, you know? I was gonna have her fly in with me on the jet. She doesn't start class again until June. I had this whole week planned out. I was gonna show her Texas- she’s from New York and..." 

He trails off when he notes Dan’s pitying smile. Daniel sighs and runs a hand through his curls. "I know. I get it, okay? I know it's hard but you can't force it. You've gotta let her come back on her own, all you're doing now is pushing her away."

He was fucking clueless when it came to these things. He'd had you for a few precious moments and now that he'd lost you he didn't know how to act. His mind was running on hazy autopilot; he barely knew which way was up, let alone did he trust himself to make any sort of important decision.

He stares down at the shot he'd been handed at some point before throwing it back. The cheap whiskey burns his throat but he barely registers the sting. "Should I take it down?"

"She already saw it," Daniel says gently, as if he anticipates how bad the fuck up will hurt. And it does. It hits him like a tire wall at two hundred kph, knowing that you were probably ranting or crying on the phone with Daniel’s girlfriend. "But yeah, that's probably best. People are already wondering what happened between you two, no need to throw fuel on the fire."

"You're probably right-" Pierre cuts off when Charles arrives with a grimace on his face. He shakes his head and gives his friend’s shoulder a squeeze. 

"For once I'm not the dumb one."

"You're a dick, you know that right?" Daniel says, allowing Pierre to delete the post. It takes him a few tries before he gets it down, but undeniably rumors will be circulating in the morning if they weren’t already.

"Honestly what were you thinking?" Charles demands, edging towards full blown yelling. "I told you to leave her be. The gossip stemming from this isn’t gonna help.”

The last thing he needed was someone else telling him how stupid his decision had been. At least Daniel had the decency to show sympathy. 

"Honestly?" Pierre responds with the same intensity, his anger flaring. "Honestly, Charles, I was thinking that she was happy for me but was too afraid to take the leap. She haunts me. Every second I’m awake I have to force myself away from her. Even when I’m asleep I can’t get away from her. So I don’t know, maybe I wanted to haunt her too."

“This isn’t the way you win her back and you know it.”

“I know!” Pierre throws up his hands. “But what else am I supposed to do? She won’t talk to me. She has no problem talking to Max or Daniel but apparently she draws the line at me.”

“You know it’s not-” Daniel's eyes flick to his phone and he fights back a grin. All it does is remind Pierre that he lost the person that could bring that sort of smile to his own face. "Fellas I wish I could stay and help but I gotta get going. Charles, I think Pierre needs another drink." He slaps five American dollars in the Monegasque's hand. "First one is on me."

Pierre is too deep in a spiral to care when his friend drags him from the party to a bar just south of the circuit. Somehow it was within walking distance; the floor was sticky and the lighting was for shit but he didn't care.

Pierre's focus was on downing shot after shot, erasing the broken image of you his mind had conjured up. He never should have posted the story. It only served to feed into what the media had been speculating for the past week and dredged up more tension between you.

Pierre stops checking his phone two shots later. The liquor provides a wet blanket over his senses, dousing him in cold water and scrambling his brain. He could barely remember his own name, but yours still lived in the corner of his mind.

Even drunk, he refused to forget you.

Two hours and who knows how much alcohol later, Charles helps Pierre back to his hotel room.

Pierre falls asleep as soon as he hits the mattress, head too blurry to dredge up memories of you.

[ilovejevsjeans]

Why '5/10' Ricciardo isn't giving up on his McLaren quest

“Oh, don’t make me do that!”

In a routine McLaren interview with selected members of the media, Daniel Ricciardo is asked to give himself a grade for his performances this season.

“From an on-track point of view, like a results point of view, I wouldn't give myself too much of a flattering grade,” he says. “But I don't want to say what I think! Because that just makes me sound pretty shit.”

After eight races, Ricciardo is ninth in the drivers’ standings. He has finished sixth three times, but never higher. In qualifying, he’s been knocked out in Q2 on three occasions, and in Portugal didn't even make it past Q1. Most importantly, he has less than half the points scored by teammate Lando Norris, who in 2021 has done everything to make Ricciardo's difficult adaptation as glaring as possible.

"On a more positive, on like an off-track grade, I'll definitely give myself a nine," he says. "Definitely, the results aren't through a lack of trying. And I certainly feel like I've put in the work.

"I think it will eventually come to fruition, and it will show. But so far the on-track stuff, I don't know… call it a five out of ten. I'm certainly wanting to improve that."

The start of the 2021 season has been difficult for every driver who's changed teams. But it bears admitting that Ricciardo's struggles are more notable. Sergio Perez has already won a race (admittedly in fortuitous circumstances) for Red Bull, Carlos Sainz Jr is close to Charles Leclerc's points total at Ferrari, Sebastian Vettel is having his renaissance at Aston Martin, and even Fernando Alonso after two years away is now regularly beating Alpine teammate Esteban Ocon.

These guys no longer need to find the words to talk about adaptation, a lack of mileage in pre-season testing and car specifics. They are facing fewer questions of that nature. But not Ricciardo.

"I've been trying to use different kinds of analogies to explain to – without being rude – the outside world, to try and get the words across," he says. "Ultimately, yes, I've been driving F1 for a few years and all the cars are… they're not the same, but it's the same category at least.

"But with some of the way the car is at the moment, some of the quirks and the way it likes to be driven, I'm basically trying to get good at kick a ball with my left foot. My instinct is obviously kick a ball with my right foot, that's easy. But now to really perfect this car, I'm trying to now learn how to kick with my left. That's maybe a good analogy."

Even if it is a good analogy, you'd think a driver of Ricciardo's race-winning calibre should have already figured out that left-foot kick – and he too is keenly aware that it's not a process that can go on forever.

"Once you can kind of balance it on this nice little knife edge, the car can certainly be quick," he explains. "And I think that's probably another way of putting it as well, is that it does have a bit of a sweet spot, but it is just quite small. And obviously, if you're outside of it, then you're not getting the performance.

"Even Lando is saying the car is quite different this year. And, you know, the tyres have changed, and most drivers seem to be commenting about that. And now the floors are narrower at the rear. So there's some changes as well, which maybe even if I was still in Renault or Alpine this year, maybe there would be some similar kind of comments or difficulties.

"But I've got to a point now where I'm also trying not to fill my head with it. It is different, sure. But it can't be different forever. At some point, this is it, this is the car I've got, and 'different' needs to become 'normal' and get on with it."

Ricciardo's difficulties are made more curious by the fact that two years ago he'd already switched teams, and his adaptation from Red Bull to Renault had proved much smoother. But with McLaren it's a different situation, he insists.

"I think, going into a new team, you're always going to have to find or adapt to something," he says. "And I would say adapting to the Renault, I was still able to adapt with a similar driving style or something that was more natural for me. Yeah, the car felt different, but I could still approach it with the same style.

"Where this one now, currently the car feels different. I think the Renault, there was some adaptation but also I could still kind of use my style, call it instinct. Where the McLaren, it's a little more detailed than that, I guess. I look at it as a positive as well, like in the long run if I can learn how to drive with a different style, then I have more tools in my arsenal."

The faster "different becomes normal" for Ricciardo, the better for McLaren. The team is currently fighting with Ferrari for third place in the constructors' standings and needs a strong Ricciardo to hold onto the position it claimed last year.

"I told them, 'I'll be half a second quicker,'" he laughs when responding to a question about whether his expectations of McLaren have matched reality – perhaps hinting that, if there is a side that hasn't had its expectations met, it's McLaren itself.

Yet Ricciardo's broad smile suggests that, for his part, he is satisfied.

"I think, from a team feeling and environment, like I'm very, very, very happy", he says. "I would love to think that they are also happy.

"It's just now really sorting the on-track stuff, and getting, obviously, the stopwatch going. I think we're in a position now where, yes, currently I need to drive this car better. But I think we also don't want to lose, let's call it my strengths and what got me to this position.

"There's also the two-way street of me continuously giving feedback to the team about, 'Okay, what you guys can do better to help me'. They're obviously trying to help me drive the current car, but I'm trying to help them get the car to obviously a happier place [so] that it's not like, you know, [me] overthinking every corner and trying to be with this style here and this style there, ultimately to get to a place where we can drive naturally.

"I think when you're free, that's normally when the lap time comes, so it's a two-way process now. The team has been great, and I want to give them more, absolutely. But I think they also understand that it's a journey. I signed a three-year contract with them. We'd love to have fireworks already, but we know that we've got time on our side to get it right, and go through the process properly.

"I think with McLaren, there's a lot of things I love. They tick every box, and there's always follow-ups. If I ask a question, if they can't answer it immediately, then, you know, I'll be sure to get a phone call or an email or something.

"And they're also very open-minded. There is some new faces in the team. But there's also some people who have been at McLaren for years and years, but they're also not holding on to the world championships from however long ago, they're constantly trying to be better, evolve, stay with the times. The mindset creates a really nice energy in the team and that's really cool."

There's definitely light at the end of the tunnel. Ricciardo enjoyed a strong drive to sixth in the French Grand Prix, pulling off some striking overtakes, while in last weekend's Styrian Grand Prix he could have finished higher than his eventual 13th without a short-lived loss of power that led to him allowing four rivals through on the seventh lap. And, all in all, Ricciardo did score six times in the first eight races of the season.

"It's funny, because I look at Bahrain and I outqualified Lando," he points out. "I think I was the only new driver to do it, you know, in the new team. So it's funny, you look at race one, you're like, 'oh, well this is, you know, a 10 out of 10'.

"But currently, it's probably been a bit of unfamiliar territory. Because normally, especially like qualifying, when I need to pull the trigger, so to speak, I can find the lap time – I don't want to say easily – but relatively comfortable. And it's certainly taking a bit more probably just conscious effort at the moment, so that's where it's been a bit more challenging. But yeah, although my score says 'call it a five' – and it's what it is now – I am uberconfident that increases as the year goes on.

"So panic not, my friends."

In the end, Ricciardo simply has no choice. Whatever it takes, he needs to make it work with McLaren, as it's probably his last chance to go for the title, even if right now it looks like a long shot. Mercedes and Ferrari didn't make a play for his services when he was a free agent, and there's probably no way back to Red Bull either.

If Ricciardo still wants to win the title, he's got to do it with McLaren. And he hasn't got that much time left either.

"I think it was Monaco 2016, where I was talking about my age," Ricciardo, now 32, says. "Now that I've got older, I'm in my 30s, I think the reality is I'll be in this for as long as I want, in terms of the age. At least for now it isn't going to slow me down, not in the next few years.

"If I'm still hungry and determined, I can keep that window open for the title. I'm aware now [a chance] to win five titles is becoming slimmer and slimmer. But still to win one, I think there's time on my side.

"The McLaren one is certainly where my ambition is. And I definitely want to see this one through hopefully with a lot of success." (X)

[ivesambrose]

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

As promised, a late Christmas but early new year gift from my side. 💚

Choose the screen you feel strikes a memory from your childhood or your dreams or something that's been on your mind lately xo

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at jovescorpioreadings@gmail.com

1.

Life hasn't been as harmonious due to the obvious circumstances have made you feel that this is your new reality now. Finding a new normal in where you've always been. But that's far from the truth.

Maybe you have strayed from something you had faith in, but in 2021 its time to get back in touch with that again. But I'm not seeing blind faith here, there's a sense of clarity. One you didn't have before and caused you foggines. I literally see a thick fog. You're going to have a chance to live what you've missed out on the year before.

There will be a boost in self esteem as well as desire to focus on focus on the sweetness moments in life has to offer. It's almost as though you're bored of the news, bored of the bitterness and being concerned. So to put it in simpler terms, your attitude has become rather Yolo.

I see some of you building immunity, focusing on what you eat, maybe even taking supplements for health. I literally see someone weight lifting this could be as literal as building strength / muscle. Good for you!

The start of the year it seems an idea will take a tangible form. I see some of you committed to learning something new or working on something that you would like to put out the public. I see someone devoted to some form of expression honestly.

It's also advised to protect your energy not everyone is going to be happy with your goals and plans.

You'll also be able to see beyond current circumstances. So long term plans will be the focus as well as a general attitude of, "I don't care anymore, I'm gonna do what it takes eitherway."

I also see you learning more about finances, savings, investments etc

There will be opportunities to travel or what was once halted will pick up.

Aquarius and virgo season are significant.

Some keys themes are,

- knowing when to leave a situation discreetly.

- again, know when to leave.

- recognizing opportunities and seizing them instead of awaiting validation or looking back at the ones that didn't bring you fulfillment.

2.

I feel you've been restless and anxious throughout the year so now that sudden patience and understanding hits you, you're unfamiliar with this feeling. The, "I don't have to worry anymore you mean? I don't have to wake up feeling not messed up? That's suspicious!"

I see some of you finding some comfort in walking while listening to music, picturing different scenarios etc. You could be walking indoors or outdoors, doesn't matter. All I know is that it'll ground you. I see you feeling a little more stable as though you can rely on yourself.

I see you attracting a lot of wealth honestly. Money is just energy, eitherway you'll attract it. I think you'll tap into that power honestly. You might even find yourself having purchased something you consider a luxury item sometime this year. Increase in wealth will also give you a boost in other areas of your life. You may also take a liking towards warmer colors. You may like gold over black combination a lot too.

I'm seeing you heal an old would. Wanting more adrenaline in your life too. Some of you may dance, take up dancing etc something that gets the blood pumping.

There's also a theme of getting in touch with the emotions you have often kicked under the rug or have shamed yourself for and left unexpressed.

Why do I sense a more feral energy in some of you? Like you've been quiet for so long and settled for things but deep inside you are a wild, wild thing.

A cycle of turmoil is complete, the person you were in jan 2020 and the one you are in Jan 2021 are extremely different people.

There's also a connection you have been dreaming of or getting signs of but you're fearing the worst it seems too? Don't worry about it too much,

Significant months are Aries and Leo season.

Key themes for this year,

- relocation

- long distance travel

- flexibility

- multiple jobs

- silently knowing you're the baddest bitch ever

3.

Calming of your nerves. No thought head empty. But in the best way possible since you've flushed out a lot of toxicity from your life. There's probably something you've incorporated maybe an affirmation, hobby, routine etc that you're going to be or are advised to be persistent about. Some of you may also be suffering from sleeplessness, nightmares, restlessness etc maybe even headaches, eye strain. You're truly advised to make your health well being your priority. Calming music, meditation, painting etc will help with this.

Your gift of visualization will be very useful for some reason.

You may have felt unrequited love in the past but this year brings about more synchronicity and balance. Its simply because you've chosen to bring the priority to you. So you won't be settling for less.

The biggest theme for you is breaking an ancestral pattern and shedding old skin. Don't be surprised if the whole year feels like a Pokémon evolution for you. It's high time to follow what you want instead of what others want for you.

I see some of you leaving a hostile/exhausting situation/residence to somewhere much calmer.

There's a key theme of rebirth and heeding the call of something you couldn't do earlier. Being more active in pursuit of your goals. I see you determined to do something for yourself.

I also see clarity of thought more assertiveness in your part and knowing when to command things into fruition.

Significant months are capricorn and taurus season. Even Gemini season.

Key themes for the year:

- don't blind yourself to the love you literally just manifested.

- it's okay to be selfish of your earned resources.

- as your shed your old skin, don't expect yourself to not have an upgrade.

- you indeed won and their gaslighting did not.

4.

You feel you have lost your shine it seems...

As though you don't have the gifts or the right amount of talent or perhaps you feel disconnected with the things that once made you happy.

2021 is all about finding that sparkle and dropping the heaviness one day at a time. It'll be a transformative period from feeling lack lustre to discovering a whole new array of things you feel connected to. A lot of awakened creativity without the fear of having to prove to others that, "Hey look, I did this thing please validate." no. Do this cuz you want to. Do this even if you think its bad. You have to be persistent and allow yourself to improve.

I see a lot of you channeling certain emotions into creative expression or achieving something. Also a lot of connecting with nature by yourself since you feel the need to maybe isolate a bit or disconnect from people who drain you off your energy.

You'll be reaping a lot of rewards for your earlier efforts as well as the efforts you're going to put in. I get a picture of a tree filled with apples, the tree certainly belongs to you and you have your sweet rewards with you. Your patience has paid off.

You may also be drawn to cool tones or cool colors. You'll also learn that you don't need to be right or perfect all the time. It's a growing stage and if you don't learn from your mistakes then what's the point. I just see this year as being you keeping your peace and not dwindling in others business anymore simply because you seek peace from extra drama. I also truly see you dropping the need to be right and being stubborn cuz that's been hindering you for the longest time. There are people although few seeking to guide and help but you may have been subconsciously rejecting it.

I also wouldn't be surprised if some of you break up with current partners or a friend group to go different ways. You've been straying form things and not really growing. This year might be full of a lot of self awareness for you.

There's an opportunity that brings you emotional fulfillment of sorts too but you'll be lowkey about it. I also see you wanting to seek refuge from your own thoughts at one point. If you're an artist of any kind, this year is gonna be a benchmark for you. I can tell that. Perhaps admist this soul searching you'll find someone that aligns with you too. (this could be romantic or platonic)

Significant seasons are taurus and likely Leo season.

Main themes I'm seeing are that of,

- Finding people you feel at home with

- learning what you want to commit to before you decide in who.

- taking the risk to take certain journeys by yourself. You may think you're alone, but you'll meet souls just like you along the way.

- leave your comfort zone. Please.

5.

You're truly about the collect the biggest glow up award and I would like to congratulate you in advanced. That's it. That's the overview.

Okay I'm kidding ofc I'm not gonna leave you at just that.

Something that is long inevitable will happen. You have been waiting for this. It could be a travel plan that did not come through because of the previous year. But whatever it is that you're waiting for is making its way to you and not just that, you're making your way towards something or some place to.

You maybe going the distance for something that has a lot to do with your career as well.

You have finally unlocked a hidden fire within you (for real I see a scarlet red and a flame) that is just so stunning like?? Some of you might just embody this sexy siren energy. Do not be surprised if you attract people left, right and center this year. But then again I see y'all being invested in your passions and one of these passions is being your best like, there's just so much 7 rings by Ariana energy here what even? Please own it!

Expect love offers. Expect love to come in. Although I do hesitancy here since a lot of you just had this sudden glow and are simply maybe not used to tenderness, honesty and affection.

I also see leadership, management and business skills is something you will learn this year. Also expect hearing certain messages in conversations and music I feel a lot of you simply connect deeply with music or it's connected with your life path.

Key themes for the year,

- A long term romance coming in. This person is such a charm, I feel as though when you were busy tending to your goals and looking at how far you've come, they come in for you. You saw them coming but it still feels unexpected.

Significant seasons are, cancer, virgo and scorpio.

- money saved secretly. Patience and constant efforts bringing in monetary rewards.

- connecting with like minded people

- travel, skincare, health, aesthetics. 

- learning to be more graceful and composed

- slow progress is still progress. The most beneficial kind.

[welllpthisishappening]

First-Line Defensive Pairing

Of all the things they’d done in the last few months, spending the afternoon at the Museum of Ice Cream was one of the more ridiculous. Mostly because of the wooden spoons they gave out on the tour. Partially because it seemed Will Scarlet could not stop casting furtive glances at Belle French. Or the heels that always matched her dresses. Maybe because she kept answering his hypothetical questions. And maybe even because he was willing to drift far closer to genuine these days. At least when it came to his feelings for her.

————

Word Count: 3.7K AN: Take two! Ok, so apparently yesterday when I posted this Tumblr thought it’d be a really cool idea to just...reformat the entire story. With whole graphs in totally wrong spots. Anyway, here it is again. Just as ridiculous as yesterday. With just as many Will and Belle emotions. Because that’s a thing I’m doing now, apparently. Writing Blue Line-era Will and Belle. If you’d like more of these flirt-prone idiots, here is their first date and Belle getting annoyed that Will fought someone on the ice. Technically, this was part of the kiss prompts and was “height difference kisses.” I hope the five of you who are interested in this enjoy it. That includes @shireness-says​ and @eleveneitherway​ who are mostly to blame for this.

————

“I’m going to ask you a hypothetical question.”

Belle lifted her eyebrows. Let some of that light creep back in her gaze, a flash of amusement that regularly made Will’s stomach leap dangerously close to the base of his ribs. That’s why he did it. Maybe not the rib thing, partially because he wasn’t even sure that was the correct technical term. The rest of it, though. The eye thing. Sure. Definitely. One-hundred percent. Why he’d also made sure the little wooden spoon they’d been given at the start of this tour was still in the corner of his mouth; to guarantee absolute absurdity, and he figured that started when they decided to spend their afternoon at the Museum of Ice Cream, but he was willing to take it all a step further. 

In the absurdity factor, at least. 

Other things were—

Well, it wasn’t as if they explicitly decided to keep the relationship a secret. Not on purpose. Not really. Or come to any sort of legitimate agreement regarding the use of the word relationship. It never seemed...important, honestly. And that was a potentially problematic and lackadaisical approach to someone who made Will smile with an almost alarming consistency in the last few months, but she’d also sort of snuck up on him, and Ariel was going to be so annoying. 

About the whole goddamn thing. 

She’d never shut up about it, he knew. 

So he didn’t push. Belle didn’t, either. An unspoken agreement, that’s what it was. He had other things to do, anyway. Like get ready for a playoff run and ignore the lingering ache in his calves after the echo of Arthur’s whistle stopped ringing in his ears, and, ok, his apartment was starting to feel a little bit larger than it had in a long time, maybe since Killian had moved out, but that was fine. Cup runs did not come because someone was in a relationship. Will had seen that first hand. With Cap, of all people. 

Watched the way his whole life had fallen apart around his ankles, little shards of hope and possibility that, Will knew, still threatened the structural integrity of Kilian’s internal organs and all four ventricles of his heart, and he did not understand enough basic biology to be making those sorts of sweeping observations, but Robin had lost someone too and that had been horrible and tragic and—

If Will simply did not want to jinx things, then that was neither here nor there.

Relationship’y speaking. 

It was good. They were good. He hated the wooden spoon they gave them to taste test half a dozen ice cream flavors. 

He was legitimately worried about getting splinters in his tongue. 

No excuses could possibly reason away that problem pre-game. 

Belle’s eyebrows were still in the same spot. “You going to follow up on that, or…” “Would you burn a Gutenberg Bible? To stave off the apocalypse and or potential frostbite?” “Those two things go together, do they?” He shrugged. “In this instance, yeah, because—” “—Well, it wouldn’t matter,” Belle said, eyes flitting towards the overly enthusiastic tour guide and the seemingly never-ending history of ice cream, “because I wouldn’t allow myself to be in that position. And I don’t live anywhere near the Public Library. What would I be doing there when the freeze-wave came?” His stomach. Did that thing. Jumped and twisted, got a ten from the Russian judge on its floor routine. He was cautiously optimistic he’d be able to pull off a flawless beam performance too. It was an exceedingly convoluted metaphor. Wrong Olympics, too. 

“Does salt air give you mind-reading powers?” “You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are,” Belle grinned. Moving her hand faster than he was entirely prepared for ensured that he nearly dropped his small plastic cup of churro churro ice cream. He made noise. Without trying. A hiss and a grunt in the back of his throat that then led to a sound escaping between Belle’s half-hearted scowl, and that sound was closer to a giggle than either of them would ever admit and just enough to mess with his mental faculties a little and the tour guide stopped talking. To stare straight at them. 

Color lifted on Belle’s cheeks, ice cream-covered spoon held awkwardly between them. 

“As you were, ma’am,” Will said, all false bravado, and that was something of a trend. In several different capacities. It was far too depressing a thought to have while eating cinnamon-flavored ice cream. 

Belle elbowed him. 

And the tour guide got back to her to spiel. Without a reprimand. 

“Say freeze-wave again without laughing.”

Her eyelashes were more of a problem, honestly. Than the eyebrows. Or the specific jut of her chin Will had rather quickly learned meant she was ready to challenge him on some ridiculous topic, fully prepared to argue a position she might not have otherwise agreed with. Only because it wasn’t what he was arguing, and it was easy to understand why she won that Model UN award. 

Plus, her eyelashes were just stupid long, and he thought she was really pretty. 

Like in a fundamental sort of way. 

“Freeze-wave,” Belle enunciated, pausing between syllables for maximum effect, “are you asking me Day After Tomorrow questions because of the ice cream, because I’m a librarian or because you’re the strangest man alive?” She finally ate the rest of the ice cream. It was starting to melt, that was why. This was very melt-prone ice cream. “Oh, shit,” she mumbled, “this is really good. Better than mine.” Something popped in his shoulder when he reached towards her plastic cup. He wouldn’t tell Ariel about that, either. 

“Which kind is—” Fighting off the objections of a small librarian who resolutely refused to wear anything except heels, no matter what the weather was like, was not usually as difficult as it was in that moment. Will assumed it had something to do with sugar. Or the force of his smile. Robbing the rest of him of energy and the ability to fend off either one of Belle’s fists. “Why are you like this?” “You didn’t want to try peanut and pretzel. With peanut butter swirl.” “Swallowed the flyer for this place while I wasn’t looking, huh?” Sticking her tongue out was distracting. Almost enough that he didn’t notice the absolutely atrocious attempt at impersonating his voice. “Oh, no, no, babe, I don’t want that; you can get peanut butter anywhere. That’s not special.” “Well, it’s not.” “I’m a big fancy hockey player, and I know everything there is to know about ice cream flavors and the potential life-changing palette moment that comes from the sublime combination of salty and sweet.” “Oh, now you’re just taunting me.” Her eyes narrowed, that time. His smile was going to permanently stretch out his cheeks. “You have a disgusting mind.” “You can’t get churro ice cream everywhere, babe.” “I’m going back to get honey later.” Will hummed. Stuck his lower lip out. Noticed that flash return. And hoarded it. Like a relationship—

Ah, fuck. 

“Would you burn the Gutenberg Bible?” Her laugh was quickly becoming his favorite sound. Which wasn’t bad, per se. Was just kind of passably concerning. God damn. It was the heels. All of them kept matching the dresses she wore. She kept wearing dresses. 

Of course, that was going to mess with Will’s head. 

Belle shook her head. “No.” “Historical significance?” “Well, once again, I would not be in that position, would have listened to science and fled to warmer climates, so as not to make myself prey for escaped...what were they? Tigers?” “I honestly can’t remember,” Will admitted. 

“This was your hypothetical!”

Heads snapped their direction. Frustration creased the tour guide’s forehead, and they’d paid extra to learn about the history of ice cream. Will had already known about the origins of the ice cream cone, though. So, the whole thing felt almost like a raw deal, and he was far more interested in preserving the color in Belle’s cheeks. He saluted. Who he was saluting was anyone’s guess, but it very likely was the otherwise unengaged teenage kid trudging behind his family who absolutely recognized Will. 

“That’s going to end up on sixteen different social media sites,” Belle warned, not quite able to get her voice to an appropriate whispering level. 

“So long as he got my good side, you won’t hear me complaining.” “Do you have a good side?”

“Sweetheart, the self-confidence. God.” She squeezed her eyes shut. While practically beaming at him, and Will had to bend his knees to reach, something else creaking in the process, but that was fine, and good, and pretty goddamn fantastic because her lips tasted a bit like chocolate. 

“‘S’not your best work,” Belle mumbled, almost entirely into his mouth. 

“Brain freeze.” “I would burn no books. That’s my final hypothetical answer.” Her eyelashes must have existed purely to torment him. Leaning back made it clear when they fluttered back open, and he swore there were flecks of gold in her eyes. Maybe he was melting, too. With the ice cream. That was almost poetic. “None at all? What if you were going to die?” “Maudlin.” “I don’t know what that means.” “Liar,” she challenged, another smile tugging at her mouth, and Will was clearly staring at her mouth. Stained slightly with chocolate, as it was. “I stand by it, though. The book stuff, not the commentary on your burgeoning intelligence.” “You want to find a corner to go and make out in?” Different laugh. The kind that came with her head thrown back, hair tickling Will’s forearm because at some point his arm had found its way around her, and touching Belle was becoming something almost close to second nature. “I could keep complimenting you if you want,” Belle said, “or I could give you my reason for not burning books.” “You’re a giant nerd, that’s why.” She clicked her tongue. “Very, very cute nerd, though.” “Betcha say that to all the girls.”

His stomach stilled. Dropped a few inches, for good measure. Below where it was supposed to be, and inching dangerously close to his feet, and what Will could not imagine was a very sanitary floor. The Museum of Ice Cream had a giant sprinkle pit. Nothing about that seemed very sanitary. 

“I think stories have a purpose,” Belle said, still not quite whispering but definitely getting there, and he knew. Knew she knew. What he was thinking and feeling and unspoken understanding was quickly becoming the name of this particular game. With them. 

Where it wasn’t a game at all. 

Damn. 

Ariel was going to be so annoying. 

“No matter what they are. Shitty as they can be, all those ups and downs, and ridiculous, often unnecessary melodrama. It’s going to matter to somebody. Someone, somewhere, will be living their life and read those words or see those letters, and they’ll think, wow, whoever wrote this, gets me, and it will change everything for them. They’ll go back to it. Find solace and safety in it. Themselves, maybe. They’ll believe everything will be ok. Even if they only think that while they’re reading.” “Don’t forget audiobooks,” Will muttered, voice strangled and tinged with emotion. In the ice cream museum. Figured, honestly. 

Belle pinched the side of his wrist. 

“Ow. Avoid the bruise further up, please.” “Did you get hit?” Nodding took more energy than it should have, too. She hadn’t been to a game. He hadn’t asked her. What an idiot. “Not bad though, that’s just—” “—Par for the course.” “Mixing idioms, mon trésor.” “Oh, I got that one, actually.” “Slow pitch softball, that’s why,” Will reasoned, some of the tension he wasn’t especially pleased by loosening. 

“I think we’re on a roll now.” He hummed. Nodded, again. Curled his fingers into the back of Belle’s dress. Blue, that afternoon. With matching heels. “It all matters,” she added, soft and earnest, and his eyes snapped. To her and with her and that second one didn’t make sense, not really, but he was and wanted to be and that absolutely terrified him. 

Of it all falling apart again. Of it not being enough. 

He wasn’t enough. 

A story no one was ever all that interested in finishing. 

“You think?” Belle nodded. “Why’d you start playing hockey?” “Quite a transition.” “Tit for tat, or—no, no, c’mon don’t look at me like that.” Red stained her cheeks, now. Making it difficult to concentrate on anything else, although the desire to kiss her again was a fairly strong second, and that kid was taking more pictures. “That’s not fair.” “You’ve brought this on yourself, babe,” Will argued, and he hoped Lucas didn’t yell. At him. He’d never really listened to the social media rules. “It’s a very long, occasionally depressing story about a kid and his single mom, the second of whom often worked her ass off and her fingers to the bone, and all those other delightfully visual clichés. But then! Who would guess, she got a job picking up extra shifts cleaning at the rink in town. Home to the world’s shittiest ice and loudest Zamboni, it instantly drew the attention of our kid-like hero. 

“He was...infatuated, let’s say. With the sounds, especially. Nothing sounds like that first scrape of skates on fresh ice. Full of possibility, you know?” Belle didn’t answer. Will kept talking. “Best noise in the world. And then he learned there were other noises. Pucks hitting the back of nets. Sticks clanging together. Grunts and groans and the game itself, how loud it was. Helped silence some of his thoughts, none of which were ever very good. Lots of worries, some about his very dead sister, then a few more about that mother and her predilection toward clichés.”

“Good word,” Belle murmured. He kissed the top of her hair. The kid was openly staring at them, now. 

“Anyway, the crux of the story is that the guy who owned the rink agreed to let the kid play on the rink. Knew the mother, understood her situation, and hockey is expensive. Like, well, we spout all that bullshit about hockey is for everyone, and I’ve got to stand up there and smile and nod and agree, and it’s fucked up because it’s not really true. Hockey’s for rich kids and families with regularly functioning alternators in their car.” 

He shook his head. Had to. To chase away the memories and the cobwebs, and Cap knew this, too. Understood it, even. Remembered a life before the Vanklads, and not every kid got the Vankalds, and sometimes Will let himself wonder what would have happened if he’d found the Vanklads. Or their upstate New York equivalent. 

Gotten better shin pads, probably. 

“Hockey’s an exclusive sorta club,” Will continued, “gotta know someone who’s related to someone else, and they know someone who played, and it’s six degrees of increasingly desperate separation. By some lucky twist of fate, though, Jimmy Newell knew some bastard who knew somebody else, who saw me play, and you don’t say no to USA Developmental. Spent two years in Minnesota, way before Cap did, so he doesn’t get to claim that state as his own.” Belle’s lips twitched. “Good to know, for argument’s sake.” His stomach was becoming a problem. 

Heart, too. 

Sputtering and slamming, uneven beats that were going to leave another bruise. Will licked his lips. 

“I went to Developmental, declared for the draft, got picked by New York, went to college, stayed in college, and the rest is history. As they say.” “They do say that, yeah.” “What’s the next question, then?” “How do you know there’s another question?” “Shot in the dark,” Will shrugged, but that was a lie, and it was getting increasingly easier to read that pinch between her eyebrows. “So, hit me.” “Literally?” “Please do not literally hit me. Locksley’s been feeling the forecheck the last couple’a practices.” “I know what that means!” Someone shushed them. Will couldn’t imagine the color will ever leave Belle’s cheeks. 

He kissed the bridge of her nose. 

“Who’d you get to teach you French?” “Who said I didn’t just learn French on my own?” “Babe,” she chided, and, well, that was the tipping point. As they say. To his heart and his stomach and—

“You wanna come to a game this series?” Belle blinked. Once, twice. Leaned back. Tilted her head. Likely waited for the camera crew that was inevitably lurking in the corner he was cautiously optimistic they’d make out in eventually. Didn’t happen, though. There was no camera crew. 

Just Will Scarlet, professional hockey player, and part-time sap. Standing in one of the more nonsensical museums they’d been to in the last two months. Although they did go to the transit museum on three separate occasions, and he could honestly say he didn’t expect that. 

So, maybe this was all just—

Par for the course. 

He’d have to make some sort of deal with Eric. To make sure Ariel didn’t proclaim her relationship-plotting victories from a variety of rooftops. Someone in front office had to know someone else with Empire State Building connections. 

Zelena probably did. 

Ariel would use that. 

“Where would I sit?”

He pulled her. Up. With an almost violent amount of force, threatening the safety of both of Belle’s shoulders in the process. But she’d asked the one question he hadn’t totally considered in his half-plotted plan, and getting his mouth back on hers was an acceptable diversion. Plus, she looped her arms around his neck pretty quickly. 

Which had to count for something, he figured. 

One hand cupped the back of his head, pulling him closer. Like he had any intention of being anywhere else, swiping his tongue against Belle’s lip and swallowing her sigh. They were still in public, technically. Her feet trailed the multi-color carpet beneath them, Will’s arms tightening and his palm flat against her back and her spine, and if she kept rocking up like that, he was going to do something drastic. 

Something in the same realm as melting, probably. 

Strands of hair tickled his skin, making him tilt his head and alter the angle, and that was entirely appropriate, but getting kicked out of the Museum of Ice Cream would probably make an absolutely fantastic story. Once they told people they were—

Doing whatever it was they were doing. 

They’d get there eventually. 

“Cap’s sister-in-law is coming,” Will said, not entirely able to catch his breath, “wants to see Kris and—” “—Should I know who that is?” “Works in equipment, and that’s not really the point.” “What is?” “That Little Vankald isn’t super interested in listening to Cap be full older brother on her and, far as I know, is fully capable of getting tickets wherever she wants. Can sweet talk the gold out of anyone’s pockets, and—” “—Wait, wait, are you equating hockey tickets to gold?” “When I’m playing, ma choupette.” “Is that cabbage?” He hummed. Nearly tripped over his own feet trying to hold onto Belle and the mostly melted cup of ice cream and paying for more churro ice cream made perfect sense. At the moment. “One of the kids at school was French Canadian,” Will explained, “used to swear all the time on the ice, and then he’d use stuff like that.” “You’re sharing endearments with a trash talker.” “More or less, yeah. Used to infuriate other guys.” “Who wants to be called a cabbage?” “I think you’re super cute.” Belle scowled. Didn’t argue, though. And Will refused to linger on the beat of his pulse. “I’d really like it if you were there,” he added, “Little Vanklad’ll be cool about it. She owes me. I fed her for a very long time.” “Did you just?” “I make incredible garlic bread; ask anyone.” “Wow,” Belle drawled, “just like people on the street, or…also, do you call her Little Vanklad all the time?” “To her face and behind her back with startling regularity. Not everyone gets my French endearments, babe. Consider yourself lucky.” 

She scrunched her nose. 

Stayed silent. All Will could hear was the soft explanations of the tour guide, and the questions from tourists who probably also thought going to the Museum of Sex made them edgy. After they bought a STRAND tote bag. God, maybe he was a dick. A judgmental dick, who still had too many thoughts and used an occasionally violent game to silence them by making sure he was the one dictating the noises and the trash talk and—

“Hey, uh, Will...Mr., uh—Mr. Scarlet? Do you think we could get a picture?”

Belle’s lips disappeared. Behind her teeth, and that didn’t do anything to temper the sound of what might have actually been joy. At the prospect of the staring teenager and his photo request. 

In the goddamn Museum of Ice Cream. 

Giving a jerky nod, Will quickly scanned the kid for any team-branded, but it didn’t look like he was wearing merch and that was a rather small miracle. Far as those things went. 

Still, he had been in the middle of a pretty intense internal dialogue and potential freakout, and there was going to be ice cream on his hand if he didn’t throw this cup away. 

Belle took the phone. 

The kid’s phone. 

“Smile,” she instructed, and Will tried. Really. He hoped he didn’t end up looking like a murderer on Twitter or Instagram or whatever kids used, and he had no idea when he got that old. When things started to freak him out, and he let the nerves claw back in, and the worry take root and—

“Hey,” he said before the kid could walk back to his parents and their matching STRAND tote bags. “You think you could take a picture of us, real quick?”

No one had ever moved faster. 

In, like, the history of photography. 

Circling an arm around Belle’s waist, Will’s smile came a bit easier and that was good because he was totally unprepared for what happened after that. Another instruction and flick of someone’s thumb, but then Belle was on her toes, even with the heels, and her lips were pressed against his cheek and it was like some sort of really exceptional sugar high. 

Without the threat of inevitable crash. 

Will didn’t think so, at least. He was also pretty positive it wasn’t tigers in The Day After Tomorrow. Wolves, maybe. 

“Tell Little Vankald to save me a seat.” “I mean, I don’t think you should call her that.”

Her teeth grazed his jaw. Both of them were laughing in the picture, the kid’s eyes going impossibly wide as Will thanked him. “How hard you think it is to set up an Instagram account?”

[falsegoodnight]

✰ say a little prayer: an outtake ✰

*a harry-centric drabble from sleeping on our problems taking place the five days after louis told harry about the baby.

(obviously: major spoilers from the fic!

a birthday present for @louislyrics <3 thank you for asking the question that sparked this!

The door shuts behind Louis with a dull thud, silence echoing as Harry stares at the wood, mouth still dropped open with his protest lingering on his lips. 

A wave of nausea rises in him, strengthened only by his disbelief, confusion, and slowly festering panic. 

Pregnant. Louis is pregnant. 

With his baby. 

The panic grows, tightening in his chest and filling his lungs. He exhales jaggedly, hands shaking as he sits down on his bed stiffly and places them on his knees, bracing himself.

He’s twenty. He’s twenty years old and he’s gone and knocked up an omega. He’s just recently been picked as captain. The season is picking up soon and he’s got classes and responsibilities and he’s knocked up an omega. 

A product of him and Louis has been planted in Louis’ stomach and will grow into a living breathing human after just nine and a half months. The white gap on his wall between his window and a poster sears into his burning eyes as he stares blankly. 

He doesn’t realize someone has entered his room until a hand lands on his shoulder, jerking him out of his tense actions. Liam’s face slowly comes into view when he glances down, a worried furrow between his brow. 

His mouth is open too, closing and widening as if pronouncing syllables and words, trying to communicate - except Harry can hardly hear a word through the thundering of his heart, deafening in his ears and making his vision go blurry. 

“Harry,” Liam says, maybe for the fifth or dozenth time, “Harry, are you okay?” 

Opening his mouth, he is unable to respond. Is he okay? Is he okay after finding out he’s going to be a father when he’s only twenty years old? 

And it’s like - Harry has always known he wants children, wants to find a nice omega and settle down and put a baby or a bunch of babies in them. He wants to have a family. He gets off on the idea, for fuck’s sake. But it’s different having it sprung on him so suddenly. It’s different because he’s not ready. Not even close. 

He’s Captain for fuck’s sake. He’s got a year to play well and play hard to up his chances of being drafted to a good team in the summer. Not to mention, an entire team not to let down. Hockey is his life - it’s been his life since he first got onto the ice at eight years old and fuck, he wants it to continue being his life for a long time. 

“H, you’re worrying me, what’s wrong?” Liam continues, sounding completely bewildered. Harry can’t blame him. He’s Harry - always cool headed, calm, and driven. Not much rattles him, though it’s safe to say this definitely has. 

“Liam,” he says slowly, voice hoarse. He forces himself to make eye contact with the fellow alpha, taking a deep shuddery breath. “Liam, I’m going to be a dad.” 

He watches as the words process and Liam’s face morphs into one of disbelief. He watches as Liam looks at him, face pale once he sees the tears in Harry’s eyes and the raw honesty on his face. He watches as he realizes it’s the truth. 

Fumbling for words, Liam sits down on the bed beside him. “Um,” he starts, giving Harry an anxious look. 

Shaking his head, Harry explains properly. He reminds Liam about Louis, the omega he hooked up with at their end-of-summer party and who helped him with his rut. He tells him that Louis wants to keep the baby. “I mean, s’his body, his choice, of course,” he says panickedly. “But he also wants to know if I want to be involved and-” He cuts off, unable to continue. 

Liam is silent for a bit. “What’re you going to do?” he asks eventually, voice soft and gentle. 

It’s still enough for Harry to break. Suddenly he’s crying into his hands, shaking because he has no fucking idea what he’s going to do. He’s twenty - he’s twenty years old and he has no fucking idea what he’s doing. 

He thinks of Louis. Sweet and beautiful Louis who’s caught his eye more than any omega he’s ever met, who his inner alpha feels an inexplicable pull towards, against his mind’s wishes. If he hadn’t been so dedicated to hockey, he wonders how things might have been between them. If this would be playing out a little differently. 

Most of all he wonders how Louis isn’t in pieces like him. He’s the same age as Harry and yet he was so sure - so certain of this new permanent fixture in his life. 

Even when he left, face crumpled and close to tears much to the torment of his inner alpha, there was no trace of regret or doubt in his face. He wants to keep the baby. He’s okay with being a mother and raising a child. 

Meanwhile Harry feels like he’s going to puke. He keeps crying, letting Liam awkwardly pat his back and murmur semi-encouraging words, struggling to handle an emotionally distressed Harry when he’s never even seen him cry before today. But Harry soaks up the little bit of comfort Liam offers, closing his eyes shut and wanting to scream because the ultrasound picture  he left on his desk is still branded across his eyelids. 

One thing’s for sure, he needs to make a decision here. But first he has to come to terms with it. 

-

Harry wakes up on Sunday morning and almost forgets the revelation of the evening before. 

He told Liam to tell their frat brothers he was feeling ill and would be eating in his room. Then he proceeded to have his dinner, which was tasteless and overall unappealing to him, while staring aimlessly at his laptop screen where Criminal Minds was playing. He remembers nothing of the two episodes he watched, putting his laptop on the nightstand and yanking his clothes off so he can sleep about three hours earlier than usual. 

Though he forgets, it comes back to him like a knife to the chest when he glances at his desk where the ultrasound is sitting, black and white little blob and all. He sucks in a breath and then exhales through his nose, heading to the door and slamming the door shut behind him.

Liam must have told the others to leave him alone because no one comes up to tell him good morning or complain about current chore assignments. He’s sure he’s radiating frustrated pheromones as he grabs some cereal and an energy drink. 

There’s a morning practice in half an hour so Harry brings his breakfast upstairs with him, eating as he gets dressed and grabs his stuff. 

He stares at the ultrasound as he gathers his gear, eyes latched onto it even when he’s stuffing everything in his duffel along with his water bottle, before turning his head and looking away. He pushes it all down. 

Striving to the door, he hesitates, glancing back at the desk. With an exhausted sigh, he walks back to the desk.

After spending the entire morning avoiding the elephant in the room, it all comes rushing back to him, a heavy weight in his lungs making it hard for him to breathe. But he makes himself look at the paper, lets himself study the small blob in the middle that will be his and Louis’ pup.

His pup. His child. 

He wonders what they’d look like. Would they look more like him or Louis? He imagines a baby in his head but its face flashes between Louis’ delicate features and his sharper ones, Louis’ big blue eyes and his green ones, Louis’ soft smile and his own. 

“Harry,” Liam says, knocking gently on the door. He’s cautious as he reminds Harry that they have to get to practice.

Harry nods, gnawing on his lip. “I’ll meet you down there,” he murmurs, not moving his eyes from the ultrasound picture. There’s traces of Louis’ scent on it, sweet ripe strawberries. So lovely and intoxicating and so much deeper now. Deeper because of the baby. He glances at Liam who hasn’t left, a concerned frown on his face. “I’m fine,” he swears, voice lowering to a whisper. 

Liam dips his head to his chest in acknowledgment and backs out of the room. 

Heart fluttering painfully, Harry realizes that he just spent five minutes thinking about his child and not panicking. 

Examining the black and white sheet carefully, he folds it gently and tucks it into his jacket pocket. It sits there like a promise through the entire day. 

-

Harry spends the next couple of days going through his normal routines and attending classes and practice completely dazed. He zones out during lectures, mind wandering to heartbeats and tiny limbs. He’s distant with his frat brothers and absent from his friends; ignoring text messages and Snapchats and cutting all interactions with everyone, except Liam, short. His mind is constantly spinning with thoughts of ultrasounds, parenting, and panic. 

How is he expected to talk to people normally when a lump the size of a boulder is clawing up his throat and fighting to spill out, his thoughts utterly consumed by something the size of a cherry. 

(A size of a cherry. That’s what the internet said when he googled information on babies at 9 weeks in the middle of Music Theory. Itty bitty. Just bigger than the pad of his thumb.)

He’s distracted in practice and everyone notices, including Coach, who pulls him aside during a practice game to tell him off for being sloppy. He’s captain for fuck’s sake and the season is just kicking off. He can’t afford to be so spaced out - he’s lectured on this point over and over, head ducked and shame curling in his stomach. 

And yet, he can’t stop himself from pulling the picture out of his pocket during class or practice or in the middle of the night when he wakes up staring at the ceiling, while his insecurities and nerves whirl around him like a never ending nightmare. 

The folds grow cracked and worn with the amount of times he opens and refolds the paper; looking, staring, and memorizing the lines of his future pup as his heart beats painfully. 

On Wednesday, three days after he found out, he calls his mom.

She answers with a, “Hey, lovey,” like she always does, chipper and happy.

Harry swallows, closing his eyes. When he speaks, his voice shakes. “Mom, I have something to tell you.” 

As if sensing the panic in his voice, her response is soft and encouraging. “You can tell me anything, darling.”

“I don’t want you to be disappointed,” he whispers. 

“You’ve never disappointed me and you never will,” she says easily, sounding confused and curious. 

It doesn’t make him feel any better. His stomach is twisting painfully when he finally works up the courage to blurt it out. “I got someone pregnant.” 

His mother’s shock is palpable, bleeding through the phone and seeping into his skin until he’s flinching, the hitch in her breathing almost deafening to his ringing ears. 

Before he knows it, his tears are brimming again. 

“Mom,” he says desperately. “Say something.” 

“Harry,” she says. “Oh my god.”

Needless to say, he starts crying again. The whole story comes tumbling out and his mother is achingly indecipherable, asking him questions about if they used protection (no, but Louis had been on birth control) and how far along Louis is (9 weeks and 4 days as far as Harry knows) and how well they know each other (“Not well at all,” he had been forced to admit). 

“Honey,” she starts, voice gentle but firm. “I’m your mother and you know I always want the best for you. But you also know I’ll never bullshit you, which is why I feel comfortable telling you that there’s a right and wrong decision to make here and I swear to God, Harry Edward Styles, that if you choose the wrong path - the coward’s path, I will come up there and -”

“Mom, I’m not abandoning him,” he interrupts, gaping. “What the fuck?”

“I know you’re not,” she scoffs. “I meant if you choose not to have a joint-custody. I know you, darling, and I know how much you’d regret it if you let one of your own flesh and blood slip through your fingers even when you’re as young as you are.”

“I…” He trails off, swallowing. “How am I supposed to raise a child when I want to be in the NHL?”

“How is this omega supposed to carry a child while attending classes and living his own life?” she counters. “I’ll tell you how. You figure it out. You work your ass off and you come up with solutions and you never give up. When it comes to family, you can move mountains if need be.” 

Harry exhales, words embedding themselves into his skin and sticking there. He nods even though she can’t see him. She’s right. She’s completely right. It’s been four days and his pup is still just an embryo but he’s already attached. He’s in too deep and there’s no way he can settle for anything less than as much as he can get. “What about weekends?” he suggests.

“Weekends,” Anne repeats. “Is that what you want?” 

He takes his time to respond, mulling it over and considering every option. Is it possible for me to do this? he thinks. Is it possible that he can live and breathe hockey and other obligations while still being a father that his pup deserves?

In the end, it’s an easy question to answer. 

“Yes,” he says, no signs of hesitance or doubt in his voice. “It’s what I want.”

“I’m glad to hear that, darling. So glad. But I also need you to understand. Being a parent will change your life forever - it’s the most satisfying and fulfilling and beautiful thing, but it’s hard. Looking after another human being is a full-time commitment and I know you want kids, but it’s different when you’re actually having them.”

“I know,” he says. He’ll need to do research and tag along to appointments and be as involved as he can. He’ll need to find time for his pup - make time for them - both before and after they’re born. “I’ll do my best.”

“And I don’t care if you and this omega are nothing but strangers,” she continues fiercely. “That child is half yours and this omega will be carrying it for the both of you these next nine months. You better be there trying to make it even a little bit easier for him every step of the way.”

He sputters. “Of course,” he says, defensive. “I would hope you’d expect better of me than that.”

“And I’d hope I raised you well enough that you’ll treat this omega as good as if he were your own omega and support him as much as possible,” she says.

“You did, I will,” he argues, brows furrowing. He thinks about Louis and how much discomfort, pain, and struggles he’ll have to endure over his pregnancy and how he knows he’ll handle it brilliantly. Because Louis is smart and determined and he’s going to be a brilliant mother. 

He knows it. 

“I love you and I’m proud of you,” his mother says after a beat, voice softening. “And I’ll be here for you whenever you need me, honey. Just a few hours away. For you and Louis.”

It’s the first time she’s said his name out loud and Harry’s heart does a funny thing at the sound. “I love you too,” he says belatedly. 

“Robin’s going to be home in a few minutes, so stay on,” she says. “I want you to be the one to tell him the news. You have to tell your sister too, but maybe in a little bit. I don’t want to overwhelm you, darling. But how long do you think is the appropriate time to wait before telling the relatives?”

Harry can’t help but smile as she rambles on but it fades as his earlier worries return. She wants to tell the relatives but Harry’s still scrambling to process, to believe. 

“Mom,” he says, voice ragged. 

“Yes, lovey?” she asks softly, sensing his distress.  

“Do you think I’ll be a good dad?” he breathes, wiping a stray tear with the back of his hand. He hears his mother’s shocked inhale before she’s crying too, telling Harry of course, darling, the best dad in the entire world. 

And Harry, through his tears and worries and anguish, believes her. He can feel it in his bones, in his mind, in his heart. He will be. For his pup, he’d be anything. 

They stay on the phone for hours. 

-

It’s Thursday afternoon, five days after he found out, and Harry’s staring at the creased and wrinkled ultrasound picture - staring at his future - when he pulls out his phone and writes out a text. 

Hey Louis...

-

this is one of quite a few drabbles i have on a list for already-posted fics and the first one i’ve actually finished (whoops) - hopefully i’ll get to the others too!! :) this was really fun for me to write and i hope it was nice to read :)

thank you @soldouthaz and chelsea for looking this over for me! <33

[st-just]

Semi-coherent Thoughts on The Light Brigade

So, last Hugo nominee of 2020 finally done, and less than a month behind schedule. Well, since the end of the year. Maybe at some point I’ll actually read all of them early enough that I’d be able to give an informed vote, but that’s still a distant dream. But anyway – really quite excellent book, if occasionally somewhat didactic. I’d say that it wears its influences on its sleeve, but truthfully I might just be seeing Starship Troopers because that’s the only exposure I’ve had to the entire genre in, like, a decade. I’d say the heavy emphasis on the fog of war and the literal break in reality between life at the barracks and on mission seemed vaguely reminiscent of Catch 22, but if I’ve never actually read Catch 22, so decent chance I’m just talking out of my ass on that.

I’d say this is the first bit of milSF I’ve read in a long while, but I’m honest not sure it counts as part of the genre – for all that it’s entirely about a soldier living through a war, the actual action scenes feel more or less incidental. Or, well, that’s not quite right – they matter, but more insofar as they traumatize and disillusion our protagonist and kill their friends and squadmates, less so for being cool or fun or thrilling or cathartic.

Maybe it’s just because the last fiction I’ve read is a multi-volume, thousand page fantasy series, but I was really quite impressed with how tight and disciplined the pacing was, for all that significant chunks of the plot were spent mired in hopeless ignorance and routine. Honestly I think the whole thing would actually translate really well as a movie? Well, I suppose the necessity of actually visualizing all the badass scifi supersoldier stuff might undermine the message a bit in a Truffat-was-Right sort of way (I have no idea if Truffat ever actually said it was impossible to make an anti-war film, but you know what I mean.) And I suppose there’s no way the politics survive the transition – all the explicit uses of ‘fascism’ and ‘socialism’ would be scrubbed at the very least. And Dietz would probably end up either being straight or a guy. And – you know what, forget I said anything.

But in terms of plot, I really did enjoy it. Hurley did a great job of getting into Dietz’s head and making it compelling and believable without really making it a pleasant place to be or ever really letting you forget that she’s a faceless war-crime-committing, protester-slaughtering stormtrooper working for a fascist corporate state. The gradual reveals about just how monstrous and self-destructive the corps are are all quite well done, but it was still pretty obvious from chapter 1 that this is a war with a clear good and evil side, and our protagonist is working for the baddies. Like, simultaneously the oppressive megacorps in your standard cyberpunk setting and the ‘powers of Old Earth that eventually obliterated each other in their greed and hubris’ in the backstory of some utopian space opera.

Though for all that, I did quite like that the Corps weren’t just evil. It’s a problem with some other SF&F I really quite like, where the governing empire is so self-evidently evil that the author’s unable to really convincingly portray the sort of people who buy into it. Hurley manages that quite well, I think.

Actually, Dietz’s gender is probably worth mentioning. Like, there’s something of a storied tradition of genre fic leaving the protagonist’s gender ambiguous and then making it some big reveal in the third act, and I think that might be what Hurley was going for, here. But on the other hand, her first name being Gina is just kind of dropped there at the very end, and it doesn’t really seem to be played for any sort of reaction. Honestly it’s totally possible I was just reading too fast and missed it being mentioned offhand in the first chapter, to be totally fair.

I’ve mentioned the book being didactic a few times, and I suppose that’s not really entirely fair. I actually really did enjoy the interludes between the future-self-defector-to-Mars Dietz and Norbert. It’s genuinely kind of novel to hear a character in a book use words like ‘fascist’ and ‘communist’ and ‘socialist’ seriously and intelligently and get portrayed as basically right. Feels weird. Though okay, that said, the last few pages where the narration basically turns into a monologue directed at the reader objectively are pretty didactic. I mean, I basically agree with Hurley and they’re well written, so won’t complain too hard, but still.

But anyway, yeah, good book, would recommend.

[spacegaywritings]

Little Tales (An age regression series) - Story 4: Stories

General Audience

Little!Patton

Summary: Patton felt the fuzzy feeling his whole day and now it is time to give in to his coping mechanism and prepare some nice things.

Tags: nostalgia mention, food, eating, snuggles, cuddles, self-care, babyspeak babytalk!, also I write like a smol at points, mom/grandmom mention, pasta, story, cartoons, hugs, blankets, comfort, Eurus the uwu snatcher!,neo pronouns, nb rep,

Please be mindful to not tag/ add any ships or shipping content - this is age regression and there are no relationships of any kind happening. Please respect that. Also don’t add any NSFW comments to this work. I appreciate this.

My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me

Note: If you miss any tags, have issues with links or any other concerns, please feel free to contact me. Anon is on and my DMs are open.♥ Links broken? Inform me, please!

Previous parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // ao3 1 // ao3 2 // ao3 3 // ao3 overview //  story on ao3 4 // masterlist.

 Story under the cut - Word count: ~2.7k

Patton snuggled up into his bed. It was time for a seriously calm time.

 In the background, his TV was running. It was a baking show with little kids and Patton smiled just hearing it. They had pretty things to bake with!

But he had used pretty things today and he had made special choccy cookies for himself. They had extra choccy because he really liked them.

 Patton snuggled up, hugging his favourite blanket. It had little cats and dogs on them and they snuggled and made him really happy! He smiled and cuddled the bundle of blanket in his arms. Another blanket was over him, covering him with its thin and rather cool fabric. It was patchwork and pink and had lotsa flowers on them. He had made it himself over a looooong amount of time.

 He smiled, satisfied with himself and brushed over his happy blanket.

 His soft blanket in his hands and his light blanket on his body had him snuggle up happily and just retreat into his pile of pillows. It was his soft happy place and he couldn’t feel better.

Well.. except he could because he had made himself happy tiny noods! His noods were perfect bc they were cut tiny for himself and they had nostalgia in them. He had made them like his granny and mommy used to make them for him when he was a kid.

 He pulled his bowl of pasta close to his chest and hugged it along with his little blanket. He had tiny cutlery ready. It was made of wood and for small hands and small people and he was more than happy to use it. Seeing the tiny pieces of kitchenware had him go all soft already.

His little heart was yearning for his time to come.

 Well, the time was now.

 The last bit he had to had was just this one thing..

 Patton pulled his phone up to him and opened a bookmarked website. His phone was put on “Do not disturb” which disabled all apps for him that he did not want to access or be notified about when regressed.

 “ ‘Cus ‘m a gud boi..”, he mumbled to himself.

 The praise left a reddish mark all over his cheeks and made his heart feel really soft and warm.

 Patton curled up on his side and slowly put the first spoon of tiny pasta into his mouth. There was so much cheese on it, it had to be good. Nostalgia exploded within him as the flavour hit his tongue. The familiar taste of childhood-impatience engulfed him and sparked the simple joy of being alive and having tasty food in his heart.

 “Aw..”, he mumbled to himself, nodding as if to show appreciation for the person who had made it. Neither his momma nor his grandma was with him but he routinely did so as a kid. So, now he did it, too, because he was small and a good and appreciative boy!

 Patton munched on his happy food, enjoying the savoury tastes.

 The regressed bean cuddled his food and focused on eating. No spill, no nothing but his light brain and simple mind made it harder to coordinate his hand movements in regard to his field of vision. Patton squinted a bit but the fact he got nostalgia food out of it made him more than compliant to the task.

 “Not the pretty blankie”, he reminded himself with a content smile.

 Meanwhile, the website he had opened was loading his favourite little gem. It was fanfiction, sure. It was not from his childhood like the happy cartoons he was watching (it was about little geometric figures befriending one another) but it was just as good in his opinion. It made him soft.

 There.

 He was done with his bowl of food and slowly put it aside, patting the bowl after resting it on the table. The bowl had done a good job in not spilling anything and holding the food for him. He, in turn, had done a great job in not spilling anything.

 “Gud bowl.. gud fud..”, he commented gently.

 The cartoon friends hugged and Patton cheered.

 “Yay!Frens!”

 He put his arms up, hands spread out as if to show his palms ever so proudly. The little beamed up at the TV and giggled along with Mister Triangle, Darling Circle and Miss Square. They were friends and he felt like a friend of them.

They turned to the viewer - Patton - and opened their hug to include him and the little squeaked into his room.

 “Fren!!”

 Patton giggled along with the geometric shapes who were his little friends. He hugged his blankie close and simply relished in the feeling of a warm and nice hug. Upon imagining this was what it was like to be snuggled at the moment, he focused on the softness of his blanket and its weight in his arms.

The regressed adult sighed out in relief, in contentment. A feeling flooded his insides like the ocean, waves rising and falling, breaking all over him with the sheer happiness of being “touched” and loved.

 He let out another squeak, mumbling to himself.

 “Fren ! Frens!”

 He giggled.

 His mind was fully smol. All adult worries and thoughts had slipped off his shoulders by now. The food, the cartoon, the happy blanket and the soft snuggles.

It was great, albeit not perfect.

 Patton clicked his tongue, thinking about his name. It was so soft! Pat pat - hihi. Patt-on. He giggled more and buried his face in the snuggle companion, rolling from side to side with his blanket hugged close to him. The soft bundle was tightly held by his arms while the little shook his body, thrashing around like an exited puppy out in the fields. The overwhelming urge to just roll and turn and wiggle around on his couch was strong and amplified his innocent joy.

 It was pure and it felt real and genuine in his heart.

His whole soul was taking the vacation of feeling and experiencing. Something he often abandoned in favour of being a reliable and fully functioning adult.

 But adult time was nu now! Bad adulting! It was nice time!

 “Nu adult, only baby!”, he assured himself.

  He bapy! He B A B Y !!!

 “b a p e y”, he repeated to himself.

Sometimes he had to voice his thoughts. It made him grin like a dummy but he liked it and it was happy feels for him! Gud feels!!

 Now that he was smol, there was the final step. Back to his story.

The website was fully loaded and Patton blabbered to himself in impatience, in childish, pleasant anticipation.

 “Euwus..”, he softly whispered to himself as he drew his phone close like the little treasure it was. To his mind, a smartphone was akin to magical power. He could watch cats and dogs and look at cute pictures of them, too! He could also just read and play anything and enjoy soft little games.

For now, he settled on reading.

 He wanted to read his favourite little story. It was content made by a creator called “Faeling”, someone using really fancy pronouns like neo-pronouns and such. Hence the name according to their primarily used pronouns: fae/faem

The story was written by faem and was about a hero stealing all the uwus! Or rather, making other people so soft, they gave faem these uwus. It was funny and cute and ended in a lot of nice smooches and cuddles and snuggles.

 Patton smiled and started scrolling.

 Prinxe Eurus was a well-liked person and so adorable and soft, everyone squeaked and said “uwu” when fae was around. There were happy pictures of faem with red hair. Fae walked around in funky gowns and hugged people who would say “UwU” and other things like that really loud. Then Eurus would reach up to snatch these things. The prinxe was young and short than others but fae was athletic.

 “Euwus has uwus..”, Pat observed happily.

 His heart was throbbing in happiness as he read. It was beating fast and hard with how excited he was, anticipating any action that had yet to happen.

This was the best day! Bes!!

 The story continued and Patton read.

Eurus was termed “Euwus” for possessing so many uwus. In fact, Eurus-Euwus had all the uwus of faer kingdom! Faer parents were upset but had no right to intervene. People had given their uwus to Eurus consensually and the people had risked getting their uwus snatched by interacting with them. A lot of people called to stop interacting with the prinxe but a lot of them only talked and were too captivated to stay away from faem.

The vicious circle continued.

 People worked hard to regain more uwus and feel the same rush of happiness when Eurus-Euwus did adorable things like giggle, do the happy stimmy thing or gently just get excited. Fae would gasp and make really funny faces. Sometimes, the prinxe would squeak out nice words, compliments and other things alike and absolutely rob everyone of their uwus.

 Pat hugged his blankie closer.

He was all soft for Euwus and was convinced fae had all his uwus. If not, he would make sure fae would get them.

 There was another illustration. It was the parents looking at Euwus while people secretly smuggled their uwus over under skirts, in bags and other things. It was a row of people, so so long that the queue reached faaaar outside of their castle’s realm. The window showed people standing outside, trying to juggle their uwus in their arms.

 Patton giggled.

There was a little dog and a snake bringing their uwus and putting them down before a delighted-looking Eurus-Euwus.

The little shook his head at the cute puns. They were adorable and made him tear up in happiness. All the good emotions welled up inside of him and piled up - stacked up - until he was full of all the good feelings.

It was called a “recharge” - at least he called it that when he was tol and realised he ran out of patience and adulting juice, so he knew it was time to be smol for a while.

 Without further worrying, the little scrolled more. The best part was yet to come.

 The prinxe soon had all the uwus and collected so many uwus that even neighbouring kingdoms were empty after people travelling from all the lands to come over and experience the lovely joy that was the younger royal.They all had lost their uwus to the charming giggles and delightful demeanour of Eurus. Still, they all hungered for more interaction.

There was an illustration of people lacking ALL the uwus to give to Eurus but they did nto look mad. They looked sad about not having the uwus to fully enjoy Eurus’ company.

 Meanwhile, the next page showed how fae was desperate too, in a way. Fae had so many uwus, it was hard to move around as they took up all this space. Eurus could not even stop taking the uwus as they seemed to just come over and stick to faem as soon as the others were so excited, they just revealed the happy feelings in the form of uwus.

 Patton gasped at the turn of events.

 Eurus had too many uwus and the villages and kingdoms had too little! Fae had become Eurus the uwu snatcher, known to all people in all the lands!

 The prinxe was a clever bunch of royal genes and decided to do something about the uwu situation. Fae decided to run tests while also silently smuggling the uwus back into faer people’s systems. Uwus were used to cook and everyone was invited to a special celebration. The extra sprinkles of uwus made the food even tastier. It was usually tasty because the royal cooks and bakers were great at their jobs and always made the best of foods, using the right ingredients. But this time, the food was astonishingly scrumptious.

 Patton nodded at the words, his mind slurping up the story like Euwus snatched uwus. It was his favourite part.

 He had to admit, he was silently blabbering little uwus whenever he saw them in the illustrations. The next illustration had some uwus too! There were uwus put into cooking pots, pans and other kitchenware. The cooks and baker were busy processing all the uwus in order to make the best of all the meals.

 The citizens deserved regular free meals via invitation of the royal family. This one meal was just a bit more special than usual.

 “Uwu uwu..”, Patton nodded.

 His lips were moving, slightly curved in euphoria. His fingers were wrapped tightly around the phone, his excitement flowing into holding the phone as if even the least bit of letting go could lead to the story vanishing forever.

 (To soothe this fear, he had saved it online, offline and had it ordered as a physical book.)

 Patton kept reading.

 Eurus had fed everyone these uwus and they all felt happiness filling them again but when fae announced this, they realised the change. They had interacted with one another so much, they were happy even without uwus! Being together was a delight and upon seeing the precious prinxe, people fell into a chorus of “aww”s anyway.

 “I snatched all your uwus!”, Eurus had said.

 The people were awestruck but oddly impressed. They agreed but everyone was delighted, still. Filled bellies and glasses provided a satisfaction that paired with the pure gift that was being around fae. But Eurus continued.

 “You are still happy to see me. I could feel your uwus even before I gave you the food.”

 They all agreed, a realisation slowly dawning on the faster thinkers among them. Eurus made sure to explain it to everyone for knowledge was important and fae appreciated faer clever people.

 “I gave you all your uwus back! I had them be put into the food and now you all have your uwus back. Order is restored. I now rule you to use your uwus on one another!”

 The people looked up at Eurus, still too stunned to react.

After a while, people clapped.

 There was another illustration.

Eurus was on the stage, before a few benches and tables of wood standing outside. It was a sunny day and people were dressed casually.Everyone had bowls of food and cups of drinks and seemed to laugh and enjoy all around them. There was a big uwu around faem.

 Fae continued and explaind how all were happy without uwus and that they had a wrong belief about it but had to learn and move on with the new knowledge. Still, as celebration, the prinxe explained fae would send and process uwus from everywhere to give to people who smiled less, so the uwus would be more evenly distributed.

 The people cheered and Eurus was crowned to be “Euwus”. Everyone remembered fae as hero and equaliser of uwus. The food festivals became more regular and the kingdom was the happiest and richest in all the lands.

Not to speak of, it had all the uwus and prospered in people and nature.

 Patton smiled contently and looked at the last illustration.

It showed the people being happy and the kingdom becoming exceptionally green and opulent. There was life everywhere and Euwus and faer family looked at them from their castle and they smiled, having all their own uwus.

 The little put the phone away and snuggled his blanket. Soft noises escaped his mouth. He was blabbering himself to sleep as some young beans did.

His mind was soft and his heart was heavy and all he kind think of was the story.

 “mmmuwu.. mwuwu..”, he mumbled deliriously.

 His head rested on the mess of pillows and he curled up a bit, eyes heavy and slipping close. It had been a successful little time and he was ready to nap in his little happiness now. His mind mind promised dreams of snatching uwus alongside Euwus, the heroic figure of his favourite story.

 “Mw..Euwuw..”

 Patton’s eyes were too heavy to open anymore albeit fluttering a bit for just a moment. He put his face into his soft blanket and curled up like a sleeping dog, innocence in his heart and dreams in his head.

[needsmoresleepwrites]

Gift for aliquoten: Tsukishima closes his eyes and falls into a restless slumber (sofa’21)

Restless

Read on Ao3 

Tsukishima can’t sleep. Actually, he hasn’t been able to sleep well for the past few days, but this is the first time he’s opened his eyes to see him sleeping. The reason behind his insomnia. The room is dark, they always close the blinds every night, but it’s slowly approaching sunrise and some of those lights are starting to peek into their room.

Hinata is lying completely still next to him. It’s so different from the excitable and human version he (and everyone) sees during the waking hours.

Since Hinata doesn’t usually have to sleep, it’s rare for Tsukishima to see him in this state. After all, why would vampires need to sleep? He can see Hinata rolling his eyes at him, Everyone needs to rest every now and then, even people like me! He remembers Hinata’s stories of how he used to have a younger sister and they’d both end up sharing a futon sometimes, their limbs sprawled all over the bedding but also spilling out onto the hardwood floors of their traditional Japanese home. Their mother would find them snoring loudly in the mornings, their bellies uncovered, I don’t really remember what it felt like, to sleep like that, but sometimes I remember feeling happy you know? So I miss it. I can’t really snore anymore since I don’t need to breathe

No, he doesn’t. Instead, Hinata’s slumber is still, dark, and Tsukishima would usually panic if he woke up to someone so still and cold sleeping next to him, but this is somehow a comfort to him. He knows anything can easily wake up Hinata but his hand moves before he can think and he places it into Hinata’s, holding the lifeless limb

Hinata doesn’t move so he’s either truly dead to the world or he’s humoring Tsukishima

Tsukishima closes his eyes and falls into a restless slumber.

---

They have been living together for five years. Tsukishima doesn’t believe in forever. He knows that things change for one reason or another, but he feels like this could be it and it scares him that Hinata will just stare at him in silence when he talks about something longer. Or that his answers will carry some uncertainty. He’ll still be exuberant, but his eyes will shift, his hands will randomly start to play with something as a distraction, and Tsukishima wonders if maybe he’s the only one that wants forever

But Hinata truly has forever. He’s changed his life numerous times. Forever to him means a timed life, I haven’t lived everywhere in Japan yet but I’ve visited every place I can find, you know, to see if maybe it can be my next home. One time I went to America! It was so different!! But I came back. Maybe it can be my next home one day but I like it here

Tsukishima has only considered and embraced forever because Hinata is by his side

He doesn’t want to move from town to town and start a new life, change his name on occasion, leave loved ones behind, but he does want to keep holding Hinata’s hand. He wants them to keep going on those expensive trips where Hinata tells him some obscure tale about the inns that only someone who had been around hundreds of years ago would know. He wants to scold Hinata about walking around the house or outside with his hair wet, even though he knows nothing will come of it, because that’s what couples do. And as sullen as he’ll look in many of the photographs that have accumulated in their little apartment, Tsukishima also wants more of that

He wants to always be able to see Hinata’s smile at its brightest.

---

Hinata says he doesn’t live in the same place twice, but I made an exception for this place. I actually went to school here once, a long long time ago! I’m glad I came back

Tsukishima is glad too. He knows they started off on the wrong foot, mostly because Tsukishima is a jerk, he admits it, knows it, and is rather proud of it. He doesn’t like to give everyone his time and being nice to everyone is just exhausting. Perhaps there was some resentment in his way of thinking a few years ago, but he’s since then disentangled those threads and now he keeps up his attitude because it’s such an easier way to live

Being with Hinata has mellowed him out in some people’s eyes at least. Yamaguchi is still his best friend and they have the same sense of humor often, but if Tsukishima ever says the wrong thing, he knows Hinata will call him out. He doesn’t usually listen if the person he’s pissing off is Kageyama and he’s come to terms with the fact that there’s some jealousy in his blood regarding that

One of the reasons Hinata doesn’t like to come back to the same place more than once is because of people like Kageyama. They’re sitting on the couch when Hinata tells him, You shouldn’t be so mean to Kageyama, he’s not a bad guy. Tsukishima had only made an annoyed grunt. You know, this is a secret but…I used to know someone from Kageyama’s family when I lived here the first time. It actually scared me the first time I saw him, they look almost identical. Maybe that’s why we’re so competitive

Tsukishima wonders if this means anything. Hinata tells him that he’d been best friends with the other Kageyama and he speaks fondly of him. He wonders if that one knew of Hinata’s secret, if he would have also desired forever with Hinata, or if he’d known and decided to stay here. So many things could be different

He asks about his own ancestors. Hinata looks at him, No Tsukishima’s of your family in my life until you, that’s why I’m so happy I came back

Tsukishima agrees.

---

The first time Hinata drinks directly from Tsukishima happens when they first start living together. Hinata likes to hold his hand and Tsukishima doesn’t mind, he enjoys the way Hinata’s fingers will roam his skin, how his eyes will look so intently at the veins there. Tsukishima doesn’t know much about vampires, aside from the usual pop culture stereotypes, but he tells Hinata one day, if he wants to, that he doesn’t mind letting him drink from his neck

He imagines it would be painful, but if it’s for Hinata, he doesn’t mind. And there’s a sense of possession that he likes in the act.

Hinata had sat on his lap at the offer, kissed him slowly, so tenderly, on the lips. Drowned him in kisses, on his cheeks, his forehead, and then moved so slowly onto his neck. Tsukishima had gripped those small hips, prepared himself, but Hinata had only kissed him, gone so far as to leave a hickey. He’d seen how he’d stared at the blood coming to the surface, licked his lips. But he’d continued kissing, pulled his arm to his lips, kissed his wrist, up, up, up

And that’s where he felt the pinprick of teeth

Hinata had drank as carefully as he kissed, making sure to keep Tsukishima’s discomfort at a minimum. He’d asked about it when they were in the bath, Oh that, well, what if I hurt you? I’ve known vampires that have accidentally killed people like that. And doctors always take blood from the arm so that seemed safest to me

It makes Tsukishima curious about other things.

At that point, he’d known that sunlight didn’t truly affect vampires like it did in movies. Hinata didn’t turn into ash, otherwise, he wouldn’t have survived as long as he did. And he doesn’t start to look otherworldly…or at least not in a vampiric sense. It does make him dizzy to stay out for too long and one time he’d passed out. Tsukishima remembers they’d been having a team reunion and everyone had panicked when Hinata just lay still in the park.

Sugawara had already snapped open his phone to call for an ambulance and Yachi (who had been the closest to Hinata) had nearly fainted as she yelled out that Hinata wasn’t breathing. Tsukishima had just grabbed Hinata, and he was glad he kept a semi-regular workout routine because otherwise picking up his limb boyfriend would have been nearly impossible, and told the others he just needed to cool off indoors for a moment, I’ll be right back

He’d managed to help wake Hinata with a bit of blood and after that, everyone decided that the next time they met, being outdoors for too long would be a bad idea

As for the garlic, that was one of the earliest examples that proved “deadly vampire items” were not exactly accurate.

But Tsukishima wondered, what about turning others? He was afraid to ask. What if that wasn’t true either? Or, he felt a churning in his gut every time he thought about this, what if Hinata didn’t want Tsukishima in his life for that long?

---

Tsukishima’s sleep is restless so when Hinata starts to move his fingers along his arm, he feels it and he’s instantly awake. But he doesn’t open his eyes. He keeps his eyes closed and enjoys the feeling of Hinata’s cold touch. Tsukishima is still holding onto one of Hinata’s hands and when he feels Hinata move closer, he knows that Hinata has noticed he’s awake. Tsukishima opens his eyes to see Hinata only inches away from him. He’s smiling and they kiss good morning

“How did you sleep?” Hinata asks quietly. He’s so quiet that Tsukishima wonders if maybe he imagined it.

Tsukishima’s body feels tired. He wants to stretch and see if anything pops, if it will help him relax. His body is too tense. But he also doesn’t want to move away from Hinata so instead, he says, “Okay.”

Hinata is watching him and Tsukishima knows he can see the lies. Hinata moves up to touch the bags under his eyes, touches his pale skin, and caresses his damp hair. He only notices it now

Tsukishima closes his eyes again for a moment.

Hinata has been here too long.

Hinata has been here for ten years and people are starting to comment on his appearance more and more. It’s not entirely strange for someone in their supposed late twenties to still look young, but soon it will be apparent that something isn’t right. And soon Tsukishima will start to look older than the boy who has been stuck at twenty-five for hundreds of years. It will be obvious, so Hinata had started the process

Tsukishima had seen some of the photographs and decorations disappear from where they belonged. He’d seen Hinata’s usual messy clothes in their shared closet become neater. Some clothes folded and packed too meticulously. He’d been home for a few weeks too. He’s sure Hinata has quit his job

Hinata has also stopped asking for food. Hinata doesn’t have to eat and his body doesn’t reject the food (as long as he takes care and has enough blood circulating in his system, Hinata functions as a normal human would), but he’s always loved sharing meals with Tsukishima. Now he’s only seen Hinata snack on a few things.

It has also been a week since he last fed from Tsukishima.

He wonders if this is Hinata’s way of slowly removing himself from Tsukishima’s life. He wonders how Hinata even managed to get inside so deeply.

Tsukishima wonders if this is Hinata’s answer to the many times he’s implied he wants forever with him.

He feels Hinata shift in bed again and then he’s being hugged, Hinata’s small hands rubbing his back. He’s half laying atop Hinata and he wants to tell him to get away, but if this is what he’ll be left with, he wants it all. He grips Hinata tightly and they both lie there as the birds sing outside and the sun finishes its ascent.

Hinata clears his throat and Tsukishima realizes that lying like this, he can’t see Hinata’s face, his eyes, and from how wobbly he speaks, his tears, “Kei, it’s time you know.”

Tsukishima doesn’t say anything, let’s Hinata continue.

“I’ve never stayed this long you know,” he’s not trying to hide the fact he’s crying, “Ten years is a lot in my time. People grow and change a lot in that time, but…but I like it here. I like the kids at the school, they’ve been practicing so hard for their next match, and I like to see K-Kageyama huff and even smile when we beat his team.” Hinata’s hand stops rubbing Tsukishima’s back, opting to just stay in place

“And whenever we can meet up with the team. Yachi also called me the other day. She’s having twins, did you know that?”

He did. Yamaguchi had been so happy and scared that he’d called Tsukishima as soon as he’d heard the news.

“But you know why I didn’t leave?” they shift again and Tsukishima feels a messy kiss on his forehead. He moves to kiss Hinata and is surprised and glad at the desperation they both share at that moment. Tsukishima is breathless when they finally part and Hinata is looking at him like he also wants forever with him, “It’s because you’re here. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave you. Ever.”

Hinata cries into him and Tsukishima wants the same thing, but neither of them knows how to make this come true. Hinata has rarely encountered any other vampires and he doesn’t remember how he came to be in this state. He just remembers…being.

Tsukishima isn’t the type for mushy talk but he grabs Hinata’s face and finally lets his feelings flow, “We can find a way. And if we can’t, ” he swallows the lump in his throat, because that is always a possibility, and if ten years have passed by so quickly, he’s afraid of how fast the rest of his life will go, “If we can’t…then let’s just enjoy what we have. Together.”

He kisses Hinata, “You don’t have to go alone this time. Be selfish. Ask me to go with you.”

---

When they finally manage to get out of bed, the apartment starts to become cold. Decorations are taken off the walls, the refrigerator, the shelves. When Hinata moves, he tries not to take anything with him. It helps alleviate the pain of leaving people behind, but this time Tsukishima is coming with him.

They don’t have to start from zero

---

A/N:

OMG this story was TORTURE

I actually had a few ideas when it came to these two but then I was sleeping (restlessly) and randomly thought, what if Hinata were a vampire?? And since there was recently that TsukkiHina or Tsukishima magic week (or something) and my giftee's likes included some fantasy elements I was like why not? And of course, DA ANGST, which my giftee also listed

Watch me cry over what I wrote

Also, I usually like writing OMAKE in the end notes, please let me know if that's something you guys would like. I kind of didn't automatically do it this time because uhm, I was too busy crying so (esp aliquoten) if you want a little something extra, lmk, I kind of already have something in mind

I hope you all enjoyed~