#lemme know who wants to be tagged for this series <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[apparently-artless]

Wind Breaker Opening - Zettai Reido (絶対零度) by Natori

[gracieheartspedro]

Your Needs, My Needs

I : Strawberry Wine

a masterlist of how you can help gaza

the prelude to this series

pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)

description: joel fixes your toilet but you can't help but yearn for more time with him. so you invite him to dinner and try to win his stomach? aka love?

word count: 3.2k words

warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, reader does have anxiety/mental illness that is not fully recognized/diagnosed, mentions of eating food, reader lives alone, reader got MONEYYYY, mentions of joel's ex wife (gasp), alcohol consumption, smoking cigarettes, kissing, flirting. all the fluffy stuff <3

author's note: hey...hey.... how y'all doing?? i'm so so so sorry this has taken so long. my life has been crazy for the last like 4 months and I'm finally getting settled into my life again. I miss y'all and I miss writing, so HERE I AM! I'm hoping everyone who wanted me to tag them months ago is still cool with me tagging them 4 months later lol. okay, lemme know what you think xoxo

Joel comes and goes for days. The first day he returns, he inspects your toilet again and tells you he has the wrong tools. You discuss a game plan and by his initial projections, your toilet should be fixed the next day. But when he fails to come by in the morning, you decide to call the phone number on the post-it note he left for you the day before. 

The phone rings and you get an answering machine of a younger girl telling you to leave her and Dad a message after the beep. When the line lets out a long ding, you breathe out the random croak in your throat. 

“Uh, hey, Joel, it’s me. Just seeing if you’re stopping by today. If not, that’s fine, I’ll be home all day today and tomorrow. Okay, uh, bye.”

Hours go by and you find yourself pacing, regretting your decision to leave him a message. What if he gets it and thinks that you’re crazy? 

Ever since you had made his acquaintance, you felt completely reliant on interacting with him. It may be due to the fact that you haven’t socialized with anyone else in months. You were very good at isolating yourself, but lately, it’s been eating you alive being so alone. Now that you had this big house, the silence felt almost too quiet. Joel’s southern drawl and straightforward responses gave a bit of light back to your life. 

Around dinner time, your landline rings. You practically fall over your couch racing to pick it up, hoping it was him. 

“Howdy neighbor,” He grunts through the phone, “Sorry I didn’t come by today, hope ya didn’t miss me too much.”

You let out a dry laugh, trying not to sound too giddy about him following up with you. You were borderline pathetic. 

“No, I just wanted to make sure you were still alive,” You manage to get out, “You are still alive right?”

“Still kickin’, just busy as all get out. ‘M fixin’ to head to your place now if you’re not busy.”

You look down at your pajamas and start to nod. It’s not like he can see you through the phone, but you are reacting to his words like he’s right in front of you. 

“Sure thing, I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

-

“So… It’s really just you here? All by your lonesome?”

He’s messing with his toolbox, searching for the one tool he needs to fix the toilet. You stir your fresh brewed tea, ensuring none of the sugar clumps up at the bottom of the mug. You had offered him some, but he politely declined, telling you that he had a big dinner.

You take a sip, testing the sweetness. “Just me. How about you? Just you and your daughter, right?”

He laughs heartedly, turning towards you from where he’s squatted. You look at him with curious eyes, unsure if you asked the wrong question. He stands up, a wrench in his hand, a smile still spread across his face. 

“Her mama left town with her new boyfriend about 5 years ago. Wanted the city life, not the life I gave her. It’s been just me and her ever since.”

So he’s single. You think to yourself. 

You realize the laugh was probably because of how absurd and new it must be for someone to ask him about his life. He grew up here and you are positive everyone here already knew all about his business. You are a breath of fresh air for him. 

Before the silence becomes awkward, you speak up. “City life ain’t worth a shit.”

“Yeah, she’s different. Won’t speak ill of her ‘cause that’s my bosses’ mama. She sees her now and again. They are just very different.” 

The conversation comes easy with Joel. While the first couple of interactions you two shared were a bit strained, after days of small talk, you realize he’s the truest Southern gentleman you’ve ever interacted with. Polite with a little bite. He never speaks ill of others, except his brother. He loves to pick on Tommy. He seems like an attentive father. He loves to pick at you, always pointing out your Northern tendencies. Your horrible driving. Your accent and your speech patterns. But he’s also very complimentary. A couple of days ago, he remarked how nice your perfume was when you were standing close to him. It made your heart skip a beat. 

And on top of all of those things, he’s very easy on the eyes. 

“That’s mighty fine of you not speaking ill of your ex,” You try to drag out the silly Southern saying, which causes him to chuckle again. You smack your lips before continuing, “Wish I could do the same.”

You are not sure what he’s doing to the tank of your toilet, but you watch him strain to get a piece out of the corner with the wrench he has. He clenches his teeth, turning the piece to the left to loosen it. 

“Exes are exes for a reason,” He grunts, fiddling with some more things in the tank, “I ain’t too hung up on datin’ right now. I got my girl and my horses.”

“And now you got me, your annoying neighbor who almost crashes into your horses and asks you to fix toilets.”

He breathes out loudly, “Yeah, ‘nother pain in my ass. Just what a man needs.”

-

The toilet is fixed too quickly. You had busied yourself with other small cleaning tasks that when Joel finds you in the kitchen doing dishes, he startles you. It took him about 15 minutes to finish the job and you had thought you could at least finish up the dishes you made from dinner. 

“‘M all finished up. Gotta get back home to do some rounds at the stables,” He says as he waltzes over to your paper towel holder. He grabs a sheet and begins to wipe his damp hands, “Anythin’ else for me today?”

You turn off the running water, going down a list of fixes you could ask him to do. You decide it’s probably best to just ask him to swing by another day to help you with other things. 

“No, thank you though, Joel. I am sure I’ll be by to ask for more help,” You chuckle, shaking your hands dry, “I owe you dinner or something.”

As you say it, it feels like all the air leaves your lungs. He’s staring at you and there’s a glint in his eyes. You are not that good at reading people, mostly because you are deathly afraid of being wrong. His eyebrows raise as he leans against the counter near you. He’s so close and in your space, but you try to push the thought of him coming onto you out of your mind. 

“What’do you got on the menu tomorrow?”

His voice is kind of husky which makes your brain draw a blank. You wipe your hands on your pants before crossing the kitchen to check your fridge. You glance through your ingredients, settling for the only dinner item you can conjure up that his southern palette may like. 

“Baked chicken and vegetables?”

He nods, tossing his paper towel into the bin beside you. “Yeah, I've been needing a home-cooked meal. Think I could come over at like 5? Tomorrow?”

You recollect a time when a guy showed interest in wanting to hang out with you outside of work. It had been years and he was not nearly as attractive as the man in front of you. 

You nod slowly, trying not to look too robotic due to your nerves. “Sure thing, cowboy.”

-

You did not know what to wear. You contemplated going into town to see what the local boutiques had but you ran the risk of Joel seeing you out. You didn’t even know if this was a date. 

You settle on a sundress you have owned since high school. It’s the perfect length and while your mind goes to wanting to impress Joel, you also need to be comfortable. 

You cleaned your house, adding some new decorations to your living room walls. You even clean your sheets and make sure your bedroom is vacuumed. 

When the time comes for Joel to arrive, you pace the kitchen anticipating the doorbell. You already had all the food prepped and ready to put in the oven. The vegetables have been cut and seasoned. Everything was just the way you needed it to be. 

Joel gets there 5 after your scheduled time. When you welcome him at the door, his hair is styled and you can tell he put on his “fancy jeans”. 

What you didn’t expect was the bouquet of flowers he had in his hands. 

“Afternoon, neighbor,” He begins before extending the floral arrangement towards you, “My girl said I had to bring you something nice. Somethin’ bout being a gentleman.”

You smile widely, giving flowers all your attention. Even with the fragrant bouquet, you get a whiff of his sandalwood cologne. 

“Nice to see you cleaned up for me, cowboy. Come on in, dinner is about to get put in the oven.”

-

You catch him scanning you up and down when you place the spread of chicken and vegetables on the table. He was in the midst of talking about his daughter and her band fundraiser, but he completely halted when you took notice of his staring. 

You settle into the dining room chair across from him, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t. 

“She needs more sponsors?” You break the silence, wanting to move away from the sudden awkwardness. 

He swallows, reaching for the serving fork, “Oh, yeah. She needs to reach a certain goal to go on her senior band trip.”

You try to avoid his wandering gaze again, focusing on organizing your plate of vegetables. “Where are they going?”

“Disney. She ain’t never been out of Texas, so she really wants to go.”

You remember all the trips your family said they’d go on to Disney, but they never did. Your father could not stand being around his own children, let alone other people’s children. You think about how he used to complain about your constant questions, all the times he completely ignored you for your brother. You start to spiral, the anxiety creeping up in the back of your throat. You push your chair out from under the table, excusing yourself for a moment. You go to the bar you have set up in the living room and grab the only sweet wine you have. Strawberry. You grab two glasses from the top of the setup and walk back to Joel. 

“Forgot wine,” you mumble, setting a glass in front of him, “You want some?”

He is already picking at his chicken, “Yeah, I’ll take some.”

You are quiet as you uncork it expertly, pouring it into each of the glasses. Joel watches you like a hawk. You can tell he’s trying to read your expression, so you try your best to remain neutral even though your hands are shaking. 

You place the bottle in the middle of the table, making sure it’s easily reachable. 

You finally sit back down, sipping the red liquid. The strawberry flavor isn’t very strong, it’s more like a hint of the berry. You had gotten the bottle from a roadside stand in Kentucky. An older lady who must have owned a vineyard nearby was selling them for $5 each. You told yourself you would only use it for a special occasion. This event seemed fitting. 

Wine always makes you flushed, but you are always a bit flushed around Joel. Even more so when he’s watching you so intently. 

After a couple of sips, you finally rest your shoulders and begin to eat your dinner. 

“I could sponsor her,” you finally say, returning to the previous conversation. For some reason, you felt obligated. Joel quickly retaliates, shaking his head as he chewed on your roasted veggies. 

“You ain’t gotta do that, doll.” 

The nickname rings in your ears. You take another sip of wine. You can tell Joel notices your reaction because he smirks with his mouth full. 

“But I want to, Joel. I’m sure she has worked hard her high school career, she deserves to have fun.”

He hums, but still shakes his head negatively, “I can’t let you just pay for-”

“You can and you will,” You enjoy another bite, smirking at your defiance towards him. He looks perplexed. “So when is this fundraiser? Is there like a dinner or something?”

He finally caves, “This Friday at the school. It’s a dinner and auction. I guess if the kids don’t find their sponsors, some local businesses are willing to sponsor them.”

“Are you going?”

“Yeah,” He cuts up his chicken, “I guess you’re gonna come along, too, if you’re givin’ my girl all that money.”

“Does a check work?”

He sits back in his chair, already finishing off his wine, “You seriously don’t have to-”

“What are neighbors for, Joel?”

He nods, “You mean friends.”

You furrow your brows, trying to let your hazy mind find a time when you called him your friend. This was a new development.

“Friends, huh?”

He pours more in his glass, “Well, I’d like to think so.”

The wine is hitting your system and you realize your arms feel lighter. You grab the stem of your glass and tip it up to down the rest of the alcohol. Joel’s eyes are trained on you, waiting for a snarky response. 

“Do friends stare at other friends like that?” You pour more wine for yourself. You realize he’s done eating so before he can respond to your flirtation, you speak up again, “You done with that?”

He looks down at his empty plate, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Yes friends look at other friends like that, or you’re done eating.”

He grins, “‘m done eating, doll.”

-

You two find your way out to the rocking chairs. They were left there by the previous owners and you could tell they were probably as old as you. 

You had another full glass of wine, sipping it as Joel lit up a cigarette. He admitted it was only a bad habit when he was drinking, which was rare. “Sarah gets onto me when I have even one beer. So this has gotta be between us two.”

You swirl the crystal, watching him carefully take a drag of the stick. “Your secret is safe with me, cowboy.”

He giggles as he lets out a huff of smoke. “I haven’t had secrets in a long time. Guess I’m lucky it’s with the town stranger.”

The statement hits you in the very pit of your settling tummy. You furrow your eyebrows, leaning forward towards him. Your chairs are not that far away from one another, so this is probably the closest you have ever been to him except for that one moment in the kitchen. 

“Luckiest man in Texas that’s for sure,” You muster, averting your eyes. You could not stare into his beautiful brown eyes for too long. “Having the privilege of getting me out of my head. No man has done that in years.”

“What? You not good at letting loose?”

You shake your head, knowing that he did not understand what you meant. You take a moment to inhale, finally glancing up at him again. “I think I may just be cursed.”

“Now, why do you say that?”

You contemplate spilling the beans. Letting your heart fall onto your sleeve after years of shielding it from anyone who looks your way. Your lips part, but no words come out. It’s just the sounds of the cicadas. 

“As soon as something is good, it gets bad somehow. I don’t even get a moment to savor it.”

You feel the statement down to your bones. The last time you felt settled in your own life, the rug got pulled out from under you. You cannot remember a time when you truly felt present in a special moment. You always felt like you were floating outside of your body, watching things happen and never really truly feeling anything. 

You don’t expect him to lean closer to you, “Whatever happened before you got here, you ain’t gotta worry about it anymore. You obviously put distance between you and what happened for a reason. Let this little side of the world be your home now.”

You push your spiraling thoughts away, letting him be right. 

“I’m workin’ on getting settled. It’s easy when you have a handsome cowboy to help along the way.”

It comes out like word vomit. Between the wine and the nerves coursing through your entire being, you can’t help but admit your little crush on the man. You slap your free hand over your forehead, admitting defeat before he can even respond. You knew he would take the comment and run with it.

“You always flirt with your friends, sweetheart?” He was toying with you, which was a good sign. If he wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t call you such a thing. 

You smile, releasing your face from your hand. His eyes are tracing every curve of your face, a subtle pass that you did not capture quickly enough. 

“Only ones that fix my toilets.”

And then, he kisses you. It happens so quickly, that you don’t fully grasp that it’s happening until you're molding your lips into his. Once your buzzed brain picks up the fact that the man you have been crushing on is kissing you, he pulls away. Your eyes are still closed, your hands still gripping onto your wine glass. 

He huffs loudly and stands up quickly. Once you place your eyes on him, he’s pacing around the back deck stairs, not too far from where you’re sitting. You instantly bite back the urge to ask him what’s wrong, because there’s always something wrong. 

“‘M sorry, sweetheart. I should’na done that.”

He instantly regretted it. The thought made your throat tighten. He continues to walk back and forth, causing a draft. 

“It’s fine, Joel. I’m n-not mad.”

He shakes his head, halting his robot-like movements. He finally looks at your pitiful expression and lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think I’m much of a gentleman, kissing you on the first date.”

You watch as he places his hands on his hips, contemplating his whole life right before your eyes. You realize he is too traditional to see that nowadays, people are sleeping together on the first date. First base is nothing. You rest your glass on a decrepit table next to you and stand up. 

You slowly approach him, trying to catch a glance from him, but he continues to avert his eyes. You grow bold enough to tilt his chin towards you, letting your guard down for a moment. 

“You’re such a gentleman, it hurts,” you whisper, slowly letting a smirk grow across your face. The comment makes his shoulders lower, finally relaxing from such a heated moment. 

“Just don’t wanna mess this up with ya,” He murmurs, only letting you and the nearby fireflies hear you, “I enjoy spending time with you.”

You slowly lower your hand to your side, trying to act casually about the confession. But the truth is you want to run and wake up every cow and horse within a 10-mile radius with a squeal of delight. 

“I like spending time with you, too, Joel.”

He takes your hand as you say it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips. His breath is hot on the back of your hand before he says, “Well now, I quite like the sound of that."

taglist (some of y'all can't be tagged, I tried lol)

@midnightdragonzero @casssiopeia @anoverwhelmingdin @notsosecretspy @raindrcpsangel @art-estrange @misstokyo7love @lizzie-cakes @d1lf-loverrr @ashleyfilm 

@blckbrrybasket @cande-beggins @gloryekaterina @lilyevanstan1325 @frogtape @jamesdeerest @mellymbee @arrowsandanchor @polishedtaylor @harrieandharassed @ranahx @youwouldntdownloadapizza @jmillersgirl @wintersquirrel @stefanibear003 @joliettes @startsm00n @abbsfrommars @76bookworm76 @youotterbekiddingme @jodiswiftle

[makiwife]

Bali side mission CL16 Driver’s Soft Launch Series

Charles Leclerc x RedBull Driver! Verstappen!Reader

A/n: AHH decided to make this au into a series and I’m lowk living for it. It’s so fun to make and I have so many ideas for this. All pics are from Pinterest & Charles’ insta, hope you enjoy!! ps: leave a comment if you wanna be tagged next time I post

Warnings: Cursing, sexual themes

previous | next

charles_leclerc posted on their story

landonorris, carlossainz55, lewishamilton, and 279,348,391 others viewed this story

Y/nverstappen replied to your story: mon bébé I was gonna post that too😔

charles_leclerc: we can post it together ☺️

Y/nverstappen: I though you wanted to soft launch each other😑

charles_leclerc: oh right…oops🙃

carlossainz55 replied to your story: are you ever going to post her??

charles_leclerc: just hold your horses Mr.Nosy

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Y/nverstappen

Liked by kellypiquet, badgalriri, estebanocon, lilyzneimer, and 3.2 million others

Y/nverstappen Island gyal 🏝️💕

View comments…

charles_leclerc: the prettiest view i've ever seen😁 the sky looks nice too ig

↳ Y/nverstappen: very cheeky of you 🥰

alexandrasaintmleux: so stunning

↳ Y/nverstappen: ALEX LEMME GIVE YOU A KISS

maxverstappen1: pull the strap of your dress UP😑

wrldofy/n: MOTHER IS SO ENCHANTINGLY BEAUTIFUL

favy/nredbull: UM CHARLES' COMMENT??? MYSTERY GUY CONTESTANT???

↳ ferrariheartluv: MAYBE HE'S JUST BEING NICE??? i feel like he wouldn't go for someone like her

↳ mclarengirl55: me when I lie to myself:^

landonorris: bro belongs on the beach

↳ Y/nverstappen: what can I say? I'm one w nature

lilymhe: SHE IS A GODDESS ON LAND😍😍

↳ lilyzneimer: the prettiest one at that

↳ Y/nverstappen: LILYS PLS I LOVE YOU BOTH😘😘😘

mommyy/n: HELP WHY IS OCON IN HER LIKES😭😭

↳ danielriccardo: so fucking weird

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charles_leclerc

Liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, Y/nverstappen, and 2.5 million others

charles_leclerc Train, Rest, Eat, Sleep, Repeat. Japan soon 🤍

View comments...

mrsleclerc93: MR LECLERC WHO ARE YOU HOLDING HANDS WITH?!?!?!

carlossainz55: she's finally posted

↳ Y/nverstappen: she looks hot from the back

↳ landonorris: ok buddy

↳ charles_leclerc: she's very hot from the front too

ferrarigirly2: ITS LIKE WE'RE ON THE OUTSIDE OF AN INSIDE JOKE PLS I WANNA KNOW WHO THE LADY IS

maxiey/nleclerc: wait isnt it weird how both Y/n and Charles are both at a beachy place AND soft launching their significant others??

↳ mercedesbby: girl you're onto something, they're acting so weird in his comments too..

↳ Y/nverstappen: not as weird as ocon in my likes

↳ oscar.norris: BAHJDRJK

hottieforleclerc11: didn't know he was smooth like that tho

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Y/nverstappen

Liked by francisca.cgomes, danielriccardo, redbullracing, and 3 million others

last day on paradise:( back to work tomorrow 💪

comments have been limited..

kellypiquet: very very beautiful place

↳ Y/nvertappen: P would love it here ☺️

redbullracing: See you tomorrow winner 🫡 🏆

francisca.cgomes: soft launch getting spicy 😳

↳ pierregasly: Ig she's confident people wont know who that beautiful man is

iamrebeccad: you guys are soso cute

↳ Y/nverstappen: not as cute as you n carlito 😍

Y/nfavwag: WAIT THEY ARE SUPER CUTE WHAT

f1y/n123: WHOS BACK IS THAT???

↳Leclercsainzz4: ok idk what i was on on twitter but that is NOT mr sainz' back.

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Y/nverstappen posted on their story

Comments have been disabled

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charles_leclerc posted on their story

pierregasly, carlossainz55, landonorris, and 698,456,980 others seen your story

maxverstappen1 replied to your story: quit getting handsy with my sister🙄

charles_leclerc: APOLOGIES EMILIAM it won’t happen again 🫡

pierregasly replied to your story: i know max wants to throw hands w you so bad😭

charles_leclerc liked this message

Y/nverstappen replied to your story: hand placement will get us in trouble w big bro verstappen

charles_leclerc: I just love touching you mon amour, I can't help it 😘😘

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A/N: A shorter one this time but the next part will be JUICY trust🙏. Jealous Charles will make a lovely appearance, so get ready!! also thank you guys so much for all the love you showed on the first part. I LOVE YALL. I hope you enjoyed!!!

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Tagged: @d3kstar @whydowesleepeachnight @escapism-writer

[bamsywrites]

And Comes Dawn pt ii

pairing: halbrand/sauron x reader; there will be two love triangles in the future

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: In all beings, there exists darkness. when the deciver finds one who seems to defy this, he becomes obsessed with finding it within her. and if he can't find it, he will ruin her himself.

Tag: dark romance, slow burn, sauron is Stressed™️ , sauron is so horny he contemplates murder, minor sex mention, idk what else to tag or warn

Notes: 24 hours later I already have part 2 done. I was going to have up until galadriel joins the raft for part 2 but I have a lot of ideas so I'm splitting them up. I am also stretching the time during season 1, like instead of being a couple months it's gonna be about a year because it's my fic and I can do that. Saurons pov is all over the place bc he is all over the place and yeah. Feed back always welcome and lemme know if you wanna be tagged. Oh and everything was still done on my phone so sorry if it's weird.

Series Masterlist

It was all a blur for you. You were woken from sleep by the creature attacking the ship and in the flurry of rushing water, screams, and the sound of breaking wood. You had found a pair of arms around your waist. You held your breath and clamped your eyes shut, if you were to die you didn't want your last memory on this Earth to be of the ship's wreckage and the corpses of your traveling companions floating under the water. These fears disappeared as you broke to the surface of the sea with the arms around your waist still holding you securely. You gasped and filled your lungs with air, wet hair obstructing your view, but you could see the familiar face of your savior.

“Halbrand?” You coughed.

He hummed a response, and you could feel the sound reverberate in his chest. It was comforting, the feeling of his strong arms and solid chest. Despite the cold of the waters, his body was abnormally warm, and you found yourself pressing into him for more of that heat.

“There's a raft not far. I think there's another survivor or two aboard it.” He spoke, securing one arm tightly around your body as he used his other to move through the water.

You squinted and could see what you suspected to be the raft he spoke of, but it was rather far for him to swim carrying you “I can swim. I do not wish you to have to carry me all that way through the water.”

“No,” he responded firmly. “There is some terrible beast who just destroyed our ship. I will not allow you to go out on your own in the water.”

“But then we could both die if it finds us.”

Halbrand looked down at you, looking into your eyes as he spoke. “In that case, my conscience will be clear because I will be dead. I can already see the arguments forming on your tongue, and the answer is still no.”

He gave you a pointed look at which you nodded, “Thank you. Now hold on, sweet one.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, closing your eyes. This has been quite the journey for you. You missed home, but you longed for a new start, a new place where your family's reputation didn't loom over you, and you weren't regarded with suspicion at every turn. You couldn't allow yourself to think this was it, that you'd die like this at the sea. You'd been through too much.

You didn't know if it had been 15 minutes or 3 hours when you heard a voice call out your name from the raft, the woman who'd slept across from you. You had only introduced yourselves and not talked much at all, but it was still a familiar voice.

“Here, help her up,” Halbrand called to one of the men as he hoisted you as best he could on to the raft. “There you go, sweet one.”

You pulled yourself up on the raft, and almost instantly, you found yourself falling asleep on the wood. Exhaustion took you after the adrenaline drop of finally being out of the water. You were swept into sleeps embrace as the sun began to peak over the horizon.

~

You awoke, rubbing the sleep out from your eyes and looking around you. The horrors of that night replayed in your mind, but then you remembered Halbrand. You sat up and noticed that the raft was considerably larger, different pieces of driftwood tied together, and makeshift sails set up. There were also more survivors than last night, but it was a considerably small amount. Your eyes roamed the passengers, but you couldn't find the one you sought.

“Your awareness of your surroundings is incredibly lacking.”

You startled at the sound of his deep voice, causing him to chuckle. He had been lying down and sat up as you turned to look at him. “Glad you woke, sweet one. If you'd slept much longer, I'm sure they'd try to add you to our rations.”

“There's rations?” You asked eagerly, unable to ignore the emptiness in your belly.

Halbrand nodded, “There is. He”- he motioned to an older man on the other side of the raft - “didn't want to give you any because you were sleeping, but I was able to do some convincing.” He handed you a chunk of bread and a small portion of dried meat.

You gave him your thanks, and as you grabbed it, you noticed his knuckles were bloodied. A quick glance at the old man, who you now noticed was sporting a bruise and a few cuts under his eye, gave you the answers you needed.

“Tell me you didn't strike an old man for this?”

He sighed, rolling his eyes and pushing the bread and meat further into your chest. “If I tell you he fell upon my fist, will you eat it? How I came about this matters not. What matters is you will not last if you do not eat.”

You sighed, feeling guilty but taking a bit nonetheless. The feeling of the bread and dried meat hitting your barren stomach was enough to make you moan softly. Halbrand chuckled, watching you and leaning against one of the makeshift masts.

“Thank you. For the food and for saving me. I don't know how to express my gratitude for all you've done for me,” you swallowed and wet your lips. “Though I must admit I'm greatly confused as to why.”

You looked over at him, brow furrowed as you awaited an answer.

“Because you are fair of face. I can not imagine the despair I'd fall into if I was stuck on a raft with nothing but them to look at,” he motioned to other inhabitants, “it would be quite bleak indeed.”

You couldn't help the blush that formed on the bridge of your nose and traveled across your cheeks. Despite this, you still shook your head. “There is no need to be rude or dishonest. I simply ask for the truth.”

“I admit that was rude, but it was anything but dishonest. You are beautiful, and I quite like looking at you,” his eyes noticed your blush, and it caused him to smirk - if only he knew of the butterflies forming in your stomach at his affirmation.

“Though,” he continued, “you are right. That is not the reason I saved you. It's only an added benefit. When I met you on the ship, there had been many that had complained that there was not enough notice. That I would deplete the rations and that they would have to recalculate everything. But you brought me extra soup, and it wasn't a small portion either. You brought it because you knew I had been on my own and assumed I'd been without food. You had no selfish intention. You were simply kind to a stranger because you felt it was the right thing to do. There is not enough of that in the world, and humanity can not bear to lose someone like you who is kind and good for no other purpose than that it is right.”

“Oh,” your voice was small, and your entire face burned bright red at his compliments.

“I would tell you more, but I'm afraid if I do, you may burst into flames.”

~

The waves rocked the raft gently, the previous night it had lulled you into a nice, deep sleep but there's only so much to do on a raft in the middle of nowhere and you had spent the majority of that time asleep. Your eyes watched the stars, feeling lucky that the sky was full of them and that the moon shone bright. The thought of endless darkness, especially knowing what was out there hunting in the ocean depths, was a terrifying thought. The sound of the others snores mixed with the sounds of the waves.

There was only one other who was still awake. Halbrand was busy tightening the ropes to secure the pieces of the raft together. You had noticed he did not sleep much. You had been on the raft for 3 nights and two days, and most of that time was spent with him. Though there wasn't much conversation, you seemed to be the only one on the raft he wasn't annoyed with. You caught him looking at you at times, which made you think he really did mean what he said on that first day.

“Still looking for hope in the stars, sweet one?” Halbrand teased with a smirk as he walked to where she sat and sat down next to her so close that their legs touched.

“Have you forgotten my name? You seem to only refer to me as ‘sweet one’.” You asked, tearing your eyes from the stars to look at him.

He rolled his eyes, your name rolling from his tongue. “Do you not like my nickname?”

“It is fine. I was just curious, and I wasn't quite sure why.” You looked up at him as you awaited his answer.

“Because you're sweet. Hence, sweet one.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You're quite the flirt, Halbrand.”

“Only with you, sweet one.” He playfully pushed his shoulder into yours, and he sat there with you, looking up at the stars.

You enjoyed the moment. The heat from his body and the solid feeling of him next to you brought contentment. You wondered if it was meaningless flirtations or if he could mean all of it. You pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind. You were stranded on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Any romantic feelings you may be growing for him were unimportant in the face of that fact.

You looked over at him, and your eyes trailed down to the relic that hung from his neck. You'd noticed it before but had never thought to ask about it. Your fingers gently reached for it so you could get a better look.

“What is this?” You tilted your head, holding it in your palm.

“Have you seen it before?” His voice was soft, but his brown eyes watched your face intently.

You shook your head in answer.

“It's the heraldry of my family. I only asked if you'd seen it because it has been almost an age since we used it. I can't imagine any family in the Southlands has used heraldry in some time.”

You turned it over in your palm, examining it further. “Why do you carry it?”

He wet his lips, gently taking it from your fingers and looking at it himself. “It's a reminder, a grim one, that our fates are never certain and that fortune can change for anyone. We've seen that here,” he motioned around them.

“Is it a grim reminder? I find it quite hopeful. No matter what, nothing is certain, and nothing lasts forever. There may be evil, and there may be terribly dark times, but those times do not last forever. There is also good. Also times of wonder and prosperity.”

He laughed, smiling as he looked at you. “Of course, that is what you would say. Ever the light and so full of hope.”

~

It was not long after this that you had fallen asleep. He still sat next to you awake as ever. His mind reeling and racing with millions of thoughts, the conflict within him felt as though it would rip right through him. He wanted control and order. It was the only way in which this world could know peace. He also wanted revenge on Adar, on the orcs who attempted to kill him.

But he remembered Morgoth. He remembered his former master and the chase for power that ended in his utter destruction. Even before then, Morgoth had become enslaved to the power he held and the power he craved. That was a fate that Sauron did not wish to share. He did not want to lose control for the sake of power, but he would never be quenched without having power. He could not have both.

Then there was you. He had not expected you, and he was finding himself enthralled with you. He could not understand you or the effect you had on him. A human, of all creatures, making him question all he knew to be true. He had not lusted for the pleasures of the flesh in thousands upon thousands of years and it was never for a human but when your eyes gazed up at him through your lashes or when he saw the smile stretch across your lips and the dimples that followed, it made it impossible not to imagine how those same eyes would look gazing up at him as you kneel at his feet or how those lips would look parted in ecstasy. His thoughts were plagued with the idea of taking you, tasting you, and utterly corrupting you.

It was all incredibly inconvenient.

This wasn't part of the plan and if it was just lust that plagued him, perhaps he could drown you and be done with it but the infatuation with understanding you and your motives and how you became this way stopped his hand. And the damn warmth that radiated from you that reminded him of the home he could never return to. With you curled into his side, he could close his eyes and imagine a time before he was corrupted. It made him wonder if he truly was past all redemption.

When those thoughts dared make themselves known, he'd imagine you looking up at him with tears streaming down your cheeks and his cock shoved down your throat.

His eyes drifted toward the water. It wouldn't be hard. He's so much stronger than you. He could handle any resistance as he pushed you under the waves, and then his mind would be free of those thoughts. But then he looked at you, and a million unanswered questions filled his mind. He knew if he killed you, they would remain unanswered and would plague him forever.

He cursed under his breath and watched as you slept. The choir of a million thoughts did not stop, and he briefly wondered if you would be his undoing.

previous next

[zepskies]

The Old-Fashioned Way

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You and Dean are having trouble trying to start a family. What happens when you turn to a spell for a possible solution? [Soulmate AU]

AN: Happy Valentine's Day! ❣️ Welcome back to the Never Say Goodbye-verse, my first ever Soulmate AU! Feels appropriate to celebrate today with some soulmates lol.

Honestly, I have really missed these two. I can’t believe it’s almost been a year since I wrote this series! And I’ve been wanting to find a way to come back to it, so when I recently got this request, I couldn't resist:

The reader finds out she is pregnant and Dean’s reaction.

But of course, I couldn’t make it that simple… This story takes place five years after the Bonus Tracks (3-part sequel).

Word Count: 5,000

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship (marriage). Soulmates, angst, issues in pregnancy, hurt/comfort, fluff, implied smut.

❤️ Series Masterlist

Today marked five years that Dean had been an officer of the Sioux Falls Police Department.

After twenty-eight odd years of committing felonies of varying degrees…mostly for the greater good, he still found it strange sometimes.

He’d been partnered with his father-in-law, Jack, and by now, Dean had finally lost his sense of “imposter syndrome.”

Jody bought him a pie to commemorate the occasion, and while a little embarrassed, he wasn’t mad about it. The precinct employees now shared the dessert on paper plates from their respective desks and cubicles.

Dean sat in the bullpen with Jack (who was on a call), Jody, and even Jessie Deluca, the boy he’d once arrested for stealing candy and groceries from a gas station.

Well, Jessie wasn’t such a kid anymore. He was now their 18-year-old intern.

“How’s the boysenberry?” Jody asked Dean. Her lips curved upward when he turned to her with a crumb-covered smile. 

“Real good,” he said.

She couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I can’t with this. Come ‘ere.”

She grabbed a napkin and leaned over to wipe at his mouth the way a mother would her errant child. Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Really?” he snipped.

“You look like my five-year-old son after a round of SpaghettiOs,” she said.

“Makes you wonder how his wife deals with him,” Jessie muttered under his breath while he entered expense reports into his computer. Never mind that he had a purple berry stain around the corner of his mouth.

Dean shot him a wry look, along with his crumpled napkin.

“I don’t wanna hear that from a punk like you,” he teased. “You haven’t had a girlfriend since…what, junior prom?”

Jessie fended off the stained napkin with a grimace. But he also smarted at the dig. His arms crossed defensively as he leaned back in his chair.

“As a matter a fact, I’ve got a date on Friday,” he sniffed. “And no, I’m not telling you her name.”

Dean and Jody shared an amused look.

“Aww, look at him, pretending he’s got a date,” Dean said. He fought a deeper grin when Jessie threw the disgusting napkin back at him.

“Fine! Her name’s Annie. You happy now?” Jessie said.

Dean shared another look with Jody.

“Aww, he’s actually got a date,” said Dean. He smirked at the kid next. “Lemme know if you need to borrow some cologne. Chicks dig that.”

“Ugh,” Jessie groaned. He leaned his elbows on his desk and pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes. He knew he’d be catching flack on this for the rest of the week.

Dean chuckled, but before he had a chance to tease their intern some more, his cell phone rang. It was you, and he felt his good mood continue as he answered.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hey, how’s the day going?” you asked.

“Good,” he replied. “We’re on lunch break. Jody got me a pie for my five-year mark at the PD.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet…literally. She knows you too well,” you laughed.

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she really does.”

“Tell her and everyone else I said hi.”

“Will do,” he said with a smile. “You just callin’ to check up on me?”

“Well, that, and…when are you getting home tonight?” you asked. The smooth, leading note of your voice had Dean’s lips curving into a smirk.

“Ah, well…” He pushed away from his desk and stepped away from the bullpen for a little privacy in the hall. “That depends. What’s going on?”

“Let’s just say…I have an idea,” you replied. It had Dean’s brows raising. You’d been having a lot of ideas for the past year, and he’d been more than ready and willing for most of them.

“Oh, yeah?” he intoned. While he leaned against the wall in the main hallway of the precinct, his arm crossed under his elbow as he continued holding the phone to his ear. “What’d you have in mind?”

“You’ll just have to find out,” you said.

It only took his brain about a moment and a half to compute.

“All right. In that case, I’ll try to be home promptly at six, barring there’s no shootouts at the 7-Eleven,” he quipped.

“Ugh, please, don’t even joke about that,” you said, your tone sobering.

Dean realized, without even having to read his soulmate’s thoughts, that you were reminded of the last time an explosive incident happened at the local gas station, just two weeks before their wedding day. He dimmed as well. 

“Yeah, ‘m sorry,” he said, swiping a hand over his mouth. “Uh…okay. I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart.”

“Okay, be careful,” you said. You always said it—in the morning, whenever he left for work, whenever you two managed to talk during the day. It was routine, but it also wasn’t. 

And you still wished him a good rest of his day before you hung up. Dean pocketed his phone and returned to the bullpen, where Jody was putting away the rest of the pie. He eyed her just to know exactly where she was setting it down in the kitchen, for future reference.

Jessie peered up from his computer and asked if that was you on the phone.

“Yeah, she says hi,” Dean replied.

Jessie smirked. “‘Course she does. I’m her favorite.”

Dean shot him a look, knowing the kid liked you probably even more than he liked Dean. You’d become like a big sister to Jessie…but it didn’t stop Dean from occasionally being annoyed. 

“Shut up and eat your pie.”

Dean arrived that night, more or less on time, to find that you’d cooked up a feast. It was laid out across the dining table: steak, scalloped potatoes, carrots and broccoli, and even freshly baked cornbread with butter. 

“Is it my birthday again?” he asked, despite it already being February. 

He ventured into the kitchen where you were getting two bottles of beer. You looked up at him with a smile when he came over and held you from behind. You enjoyed the warmth of his body pressed against your back, while his hands found your hips.

“I cook all the time, Dean,” you pointed out. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head in greeting.

“Hmm. Yeah, but now my spidey senses are tingling,” he said.

You set down the beer before turning in his embrace and twining your arms around his neck. Already he could feel your anticipation through the soul bond, but that was all you were letting him sense. You were keeping your walls up a bit, to stop him from hearing your thoughts. In this case, it felt like a tease.

You tilted your head, a smile playing across your lips. “Oh, yeah?”

Dean smirked down at you. “Oh, yeah.”

You laughed and let him greet you properly with a kiss. You returned it, affectionately caressing his cheek, but you stopped him before he could start pressing you harder into the counter. You held up a placating hand against his chest.

“Wait, wait, the food’s gonna get cold,” you said. And all too quickly, you’d extricated yourself from his arms and went to finish placing the silverware on the table. Dean begrudgingly followed suit by helping you with the glasses and plates.

Dinner was delicious. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a steak that good; you two had been scrounging and saving to get out of this apartment and buy a house, along with other things you and Dean had been planning for your future.

By the time the leftovers were put away and the dishes were put in the dishwasher, he started to sense that you were ready to come around with the real reason you’d called him at work today, let alone made such a nice and expensive meal. You went over to where he stood at the kitchen sink and rubbed his arm.

“Hey,” you greeted.

Dean tried to stifle his knowing smile. “Yeah?”

But when he looked over at you, he realized you seemed nervous, not flirtatious. You were serious, and now, he was concerned.

“What?” he asked.

You sighed, hesitating for a moment. Then you went over to a nearby drawer and got some rubber gloves you always kept at work and at home—the kind doctors wore.

You went for your large work bag that normally stored your laptop and files, and instead, you pulled out an old book. Dean’s brows raised of their own accord, considering the last time you accidentally trifled with a book like that.

“What the hell is that?” he asked, with some trepidation. You laid the book out on the kitchen counter.

“It’s a journal of some kind, written in Latin, dating back from the late 1500s. Can you believe that?” Your head raised from where you were examining the cover and spine, but Dean was incredulous.

“What’re you doing with that?” he asked. Your lips pursed, and he felt a tendril of your guilt.

Most likely, you’d taken it from the museum where you worked without permission. You were in charge of the growing library of ancient texts that were stored there, and most of them were too old and valuable for exhibition, even behind glass. He doubted you were even allowed to open this book, let alone “borrow” it from the museum.

You sighed and held up a placating hand. “Okay, Dean, just hear me out.”

You opened the book to a page you’d placed a strip of paper in for bookmarking purposes. You pointed at a page filled with scrawled words that Dean didn’t really understand. Sam was always better at reading Latin.

“That is a fertility spell,” you said.

The weight of that fell between you for a moment, rendering Dean speechless. It took a few seconds for his brain to register what you were saying, followed quickly by a sad, contemplative frown as he stared back at you. You were serious about this, even hopeful. 

“Sweetheart, we don’t need that,” he said, shaking his head. Your expression firmed, though it became touched with melancholy.

“It’s been a year, Dean,” you said. “We’ve been trying for a year, and I’m still not pregnant.”

He blew out a breath. “The doctor said—”

“We’ve done everything the doctor said,” you snapped. “Fertility treatments are either going to take too long or are too expensive, and they still carry risks.”

“And this isn’t a risk?” Dean shot back, gesturing at the book. “You don’t know if this will work, or what the hell it’ll really do to you.”

Your brows furrowed, but you didn’t back down. You held your hands to your hips.

“Uncle Bobby said it’s legit,” you said. Dean blinked in surprise. He shifted back on his heels and crossed his arms.

“You ran this by Bobby before me?” he said. You could feel the small lance of his upset, as well as see it across his face.

You bit the inside of your lip. “I just wanted to make sure!”

Dean took in a deep breath. He mentally counted to five.

“What exactly did he say?” he asked.

You paused at that. “…Well, he said it was a real spell.”

His brows rose. “And?”

“And…that magic is unpredictable and we should talk about it first. But that’s why we’re talking now!” you reasoned. 

Your husband’s gaze lifted heavenward as he threw up his hands in aggravation.

“Dean—” you tried, but it didn’t stop him from snatching up the book. Despite your protests, he took it with him into the master bedroom you shared and shoved the book into his nightstand. You had followed him this far, but you stopped short when he turned around to face you.

“I will check this out,” he said, and his tone boded no argument. “But for the record, I’m against this. Magic is unpredictable at best, and not for nothing, it always comes at a price. I’ll be damned if you’re gonna pay it again.”

You paused. Hearing the vehemence in his tone, feeling the force of emotion behind his words, and your own circling memories of being possessed by a magic-wielding goddess…it had you nodding in agreement, even as tears welled up in your eyes.

Dean faltered a little inside. Always the damn tears. He gathered you into his arms and held you close in comfort. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“We’ll figure this out. I promise,” he said.

You tried to believe him.

Late that night, however, you couldn’t help yourself.

Once you were sure Dean was asleep beside you, hearing his deep, even breaths, you made your move. Dressed in just an old college shirt and some pajama shorts, you slid out of bed and tiptoed over to his nightstand to get the book.

You took it into the kitchen and started assembling the ingredients Bobby had reluctantly helped you translate. (He didn’t know that you had taken a couple of items from his house for the spell.) 

You prepared them in a bowl. The resulting liquid looked brown and disgusting. You mixed it around, grimacing at the smell, and carefully poured it into a glass. The last thing the spell required was a few drops of your blood, and then you were supposed to drink it. 

God, this is terrible, you thought. Part of you couldn’t believe you were going through with this, but…you grabbed a kitchen knife in order to make a shallow cut on your palm. 

The steel was poised against your hand. You took a fortifying breath, but before you could cut into your skin, Dean grabbed your wrist with a strong grip, startling a gasp out of you.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he said, or more like shouted. He was irate, his voice bounding off the walls of the apartment.

You knew he had every right to be, and you didn’t have a good answer for him. Shock had stifled you into silence.

Dean let go of you and took the glass next. He peered in disgust at the concoction inside, but he quickly dumped it into the sink and ignored your protests. He threatened to burn the damn book next.

“Dean, stop! Please,” you said tearfully as you stilled his hands on the book. “If there’s some kind of price to the spell, I’ll pay it!”

“What’re you talking about! Are you crazy?” he asked, through furrowed brows. You squeezed his hands.

“Believe me, I love what we have. I love our life, my job, all of it,” you said. “But I want a family, and I want it with you.”

Dean started to soften at that, when you met his eyes. You paused, taking in a shaky breath.

“It should be simple, but it’s not," you said. "I just can’t understand why it’s so impossible. Why…why there’s something wrong with me.”

Dean’s anger broke down, bit by bit the more you spoke. He let go of the book and reached for you. He held you against his chest, rubbing your back as you quietly wept. You tried to stifle it, but that just made your body tremble even more. He did his best to steady you, rocking you back and forth. His eyes closed for a moment.

You both knew that the expensive fertility doctor hadn’t found anything wrong with either of you, even after a month of testing.

“In certain cases, it just takes longer for some couples,” she’d said. But clearly, you had just been blaming yourself. Dean couldn’t abide that.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said firmly. “Believe me, I want that too. But I also want to make sure you’re safe.”

Emotion clogged in his throat when he thought about what might’ve happened if he hadn’t stopped you. And in turn, you sobered even more when you managed to pick up on his thoughts.

“If something would’ve happened, and I was too late to stop it,” he said, clearing his throat. “…I just can’t, okay?”

After a moment, you nodded. You allowed yourself to rest against his chest and try to calm the racing of your heart. All the while, you tried your best not to resent him for stopping you.

The next day was a Saturday. You slept in because your body needed it, after the stress of last night. When you woke up, Dean wasn’t beside you. His keys and the Impala were gone, but he’d left you a text: he’d gone to your uncle Bobby’s place. 

And you saw that he’d taken the book as well. Predictable. 

You felt bad for how you tried to go behind your husband’s back, but if you were honest with yourself, you were still upset at him for stopping you, even if you understood why he did it. 

You sat on the edge of your bed. Not for the first time since you and Dean were separated by miles of roads and his family’s mission to find the thing that killed his mother, you found yourself praying. 

Please, God…or if there’s even anyone up there…please help me.

For a while, there was silence in the room. 

But even if your eyes were open, you wouldn’t have seen the being that was standing in front of you. He stared down at you with a tilted head, finding himself a bit too curious. Hesitantly, he reached his hand out and touched your forehead. 

You didn’t completely register the feeling that washed over you. It was like the tingling of a breeze across your skin. You took it for a chill in the room as you shivered a little. Then you opened your eyes, and resigned yourself to starting your day. 

Castiel left the room with but a thought and a flutter of wings. 

He knew he was only supposed to observe Michael’s vessel, not his soulmate. And yet, with one touch, he had sensed the rare genetic defect your doctor had missed.

Your mother had unknowingly suffered the condition as well. Your father never told you this, but she’d nearly lost you in the early stages of her pregnancy. It had been a miracle that you were born at all. 

Castiel fixed the problem. 

He knew what Uriel, or even Naomi would say. Perhaps they didn’t need to know, in this case. They were both far too busy for worldly trifles. Even so, Castiel knew he wasn’t authorized to heal you.

Still, it felt…right. And so, he did it. 

It confused him.

…Maybe it isn’t something to be closely examined, he thought.

With that agreement within himself, he resolved to leave that decision behind him, and continue watching from afar. Those were his orders, after all.

Visiting Bobby Singer wasn’t as productive as Dean wanted it to be. The men had been arguing in Bobby’s living room for close to an hour.

Dean was upset with him for translating that goddamn spell for you, but the old man didn’t have a good answer. They both knew you were like a daughter to him.

“She came in hot, all damn stubborn and sass up to here,” Bobby said, holding a hand up to his forehead. “But you try sayin’ no when the waterworks starts.”

…Dean could concede that, but he rubbed his face in frustration. 

“What do I do here, Bobby?” he asked, holding up the spell book in question. Apparently, it was more like a journal; it was rumored to have belonged to a sixteenth-century witch named Rowena. “I don’t trust this thing. Deep in my gut, I know it.”

Bobby considered him for a moment. In fact, he gave Dean a long-suffering look that made him really see Bobby’s age. 

“Then trust your gut, son,” was all he said. 

Dean returned home with a peace offering: some apple crumble pie. You were lying on the sofa watching mindless TV, still in your pajamas. Your mental walls were down, so Dean could both see and feel how miserable you were. 

He took out the pie from the small bag of groceries he carried and held it up so you could see.

“I come bearing sugar,” he said. He also set down a bottle of wine on the dining table. You were focused on the pie, however.

“Who’s that for, me or you?” you dryly remarked. 

“I got ice cream too,” he said, shaking the grocery bag. 

You smiled a little, but he could feel through the bond that you were still sour at him. He sighed and went over to you. He set down the bribery on the coffee table and settled a hand on your pajama-clad thigh. 

“Sweetheart, I am sorry.” 

Sighing, you turned off the TV and sat up against the other end of the couch. You eyed him with a frown.

“You’re not sorry about chucking the spell,” you accused. Or for stealing the book you’d eventually have to bring back to work, lest your boss notice something amiss in the inventory.

“No, I’m not,” said Dean. “It was dangerous. I felt it. And that gut feeling? That’s what’s saved me more times than I can damn count.” 

You were still upset, you couldn’t deny…but you understood his point. When he beckoned you over, you were more willing to go to him. After you scooted closer, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Look, I’ll go to whatever doctors you want, try whatever treatments, however long it takes,” he said.

You sighed, but you eventually agreed with a teary nod. “Okay. Thank you.”

Even with that, Dean wasn’t convinced that he was getting through to you. He was picking up on a thread of hopelessness that you were trying to hide.

He’d just have to change that.

“But…” He earned your attention by squeezing your side. His lips formed a grin. “I still think we can do this the old-fashioned way.”

He slowly rubbed a hand up and down your back. With the other hand, he reached for your face, tracing your lower lip with his thumb. You smiled slightly at his teasing. Part of you wanted to heed the suggestion in his eyes, and the familiar warmth and promise in his touch. The other, more vulnerable part of you hesitated.

When you caught sight of something over his shoulder, you had to smile a little more.

“I see you got a bottle of Merlot,” you said. A notable upgrade from beer. You couldn’t remember the last time Dean had willingly bought some “bougie-ass” wine.

“A little pie, a little booze…” you noted.

Dean grinned. “I’m thinking we have a not-so-quiet night in.”

Your brows rose, and you hummed in surprise. “Is my husband trying to butter me up?”

“Nah,” he said, tilting your face back up to his. “Your husband’s trying to seduce you.”  

You giggled at that…at first. But it seemed he was serious.

You accepted his passionate kiss. Closing your eyes, you reached blindly for his shirt and held on while his lips moved ardently against yours. Through the bond, you felt his desire like it was your own.

In the five years you’d been married, and the years you were together even before, there were often moments where it was impossible to discern what was him and what was you. 

The beautiful thing about it was, that part didn’t matter too much. Especially not when you and Dean became a tangle of limbs, lips, and tongue on the couch. He ridded you of your threadbare pajamas, and you helped him halfway out of his shirt and jeans before he yanked the rest of it off himself.

And all while he drew lusty moans and sighs and pleasure from your body in the comfort of your living room, the ice cream slowly melted in its container on the coffee table—completely forgotten, along with the pie.

That night, you lied awake in his arms for a while. Round one on the couch had migrated to rounds two and three in the bedroom, and you were almost too exhausted to sleep. 

It had been months since you and Dean had sex without thinking of calendars and timing, optimal positions and ovulation.

This felt right, you thought, as you stroked his arm that was wrapped around your waist. Even though your skin was sticking to his under the sheets and your frizzy hair was probably tickling his neck, he didn’t seem to mind.

Dean? you tried through the bond, seeing if he was awake. He felt like he was still in-between wakefulness and sleep. At your prodding though, he slipped back into the former. 

“Hmm?” he replied. You let out a sigh in the dark. 

“I’m sorry I kind of tried to take matters into my own hands, with the spell.”

He hmphed in response. “Kinda?”

Your lips twitched upwards. 

“This is a ‘together’ thing,” you said. “I made it all about me.”

Dean shook his head at that. He responded through the bond. No, you didn’t.

I did, you insisted. You were right to stop me. I didn’t care about the consequences…but that’s not fair to you. To either of us.

He took that in with a deep sigh of his own.

“It’s okay. We want the same thing,” he said. “And we’ll get there, baby. Don’t you worry.”

“What makes you so sure?” you asked.

“…I don’t know. I just am.”

You closed your eyes, and once again, you tried to believe him. You let his heartbeat and the sound of his steady breathing lull you to sleep. 

Nine weeks later…

You were alone in the bathroom at seven in the morning. After almost a month late on your period, you were also staring at two positive lines on your last pregnancy test. 

Ho…ly…shit.

Dean was already at work. This wasn’t something you wanted to tell him over the phone, however. 

How the hell am I supposed to keep this from him all day? you thought.

But then again, maybe this was a good thing. You had time to make sure.

So you called out of work for a personal day, and you immediately called your doctor on your way out to the closest pharmacy. You were going to need a few more tests. 

When Dean eventually got home that evening, there were two pizzas waiting for him. The smell was already making his mouth water. He peeked under the hood of each box and rubbed his hands together. 

“Ooh, awesome.” Pepperoni, sausage, and double cheese. His favorite.

You appeared then from the kitchen with a strange smile on your face. 

“Hey!” you chirped, but you seemed a bit distracted as you pulled out a sheet pan of cookies from the oven. You nearly dropped them when the corner of the pan banged against the oven. 

Something was off with you. Dean knew it intuitively. He went over and tried to steady you with a hand on the small of your back. He could see that you were frazzled, but he realized, with a frown, that you had your walls up again. He couldn’t pick up on what you were thinking.

“You okay?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

“Uh…well, something,” you nodded and wiped your hands after you peeled the oven mitts off. “And I need to tell you about it before I bake everything in the house, including the expired bran muffins.”

Dean was growing more concerned by the moment. He knew for a fact he’d hidden that bran muffin mix deep in the pantry, so you wouldn’t force him to eat a “healthy dessert.”

“Okay, what?” he asked.

You paused, steeling yourself with a breath.

You then took his hand and led him to the bedroom, into the adjoining bathroom. Across the entire counter were no less than seven pregnancy tests. 

All positive.

Dean’s breath caught in his lungs. Slowly he turned back to you with his widened eyes.

“Surprise?” you smiled, a little nervously. 

Dean grasped the counter and had to sit down hard on the closed toilet seat. 

“Yeah, I did that too,” you said. You couldn’t help but giggle as you caressed his face. He grabbed your hip, both to bring you closer and for added stability. You two had been trying to make this happen for over a year, but the gravity of this being real was finally hitting him. 

He stared up at your face with a growing smile. “This is happening.” 

You nodded, smiling through your burgeoning tears. 

“Yeah. It is,” you replied. “Dean, you’re gonna be a dad.”

That realization had him nodding, swallowing hard and blinking past a sting in his eyes. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you in between his knees. You threaded your fingers through his hair, and his head came to rest against your stomach. He pressed a kiss there, over your shirt. 

After a moment to gather himself, he rocked back onto his feet. Then he enveloped you in a secure and warm embrace. He kissed the side of your head, and you felt his smile there.

“We did it, baby,” he said.  

“And that was the easy part,” you quipped, making him laugh. Yet the holy shit of it all hit him in a new wave—one you felt through the bond. You had to take a deep breath to steady yourself as well.

“Oh my God, this is happening,” he repeated.

You uttered a tearful laugh. “Uh, yeah, Dean.”

He was still smiling, but it started to dim a little. 

“We’re ready, right?” he asked.

You chuckled, wiping at your eyes. “We better be.”

Dean nodded and pulled back enough to see your face. You met his gaze. Maybe you’d just had more time than him to process it all, but you finally felt a sense of peace.

“Together, right?” he said.

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Together.”

Dean let out a deep breath. “Shit, I gotta tell Sam.”

Your smile brightened and you squeezed his arms.

“Let’s call him!" you said. "Hopefully Eileen’s there too.”

The two had moved in together a couple of years ago, after Eileen officially retired from hunting. But she often had long shifts at her job, just like Sam did at the law firm he started working for after he graduated from law school, near the top of his class.  

While you and Dean went into the bedroom to call Sam together, an angel watched from a distance, unseen by human eyes.

He found himself smiling.

AN: Ahh I'm soft. 🥰 I hope you all enjoy this as much as I had fun diving back into Never Say Goodbye.

And I won't say that I'll never come back to it in the future...for obvious reasons. 😉

Series Masterlist

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Series + Dean Tag List (Part 1):

I did my best to get everyone who was tagged in the original run of the series first, then my normal Dean tag list.

@curlycarley @chubby-teddybear @jamerlynn @iprobablyshipit91 @globetrotter28 @deamus-liv @deans-spinster-witch @my-proof-is-you @vera0124 @deans-baby-momma @lacilou @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @theonlymaninthesky @spnexploration @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @imagineteller1

@icequeen1371 @tiredqueen73 @bitchwitch1981 @abbigaleelizabeth @ohgodthebogisback @where-the-river-bends @loveprof6 @shadowcrowsworld @thespnlover @this-is-me19 @stevenknightmarc @leigh70 @syrma-sensei @brain-has-left

@hobby27 @ashbatz @saranghaey @jori21 @lillyrob @adoringanakin @agirlwithdemonblood @mimaria420 @nephil-with-a-gun @writethrough @iamsapphine @definitelymentallyderanged @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer

[bellewintersroe]

Daniel Ricciardo x HornerDaughter! Reader.

You ask for a part 3, you shall receive 😈 I’ve had a few inbox’s and comments asking me for this so I’m happy to continue hehehe, do you all wanna see this series as pure smut or a mix? I think there’s only so much sex I can write 😭😭 this one is a mix so obviously an 18+ warning in place, but it’s not so heavy on smut in comparison to the other two parts.

@allabouthappiness thanks for asking me to tag you!!! If anybody else wants tagging in any of my work lemme know! Christian Horner throws a bbq party after Silverstone, it’s a good nice for the drivers to unwind and have some down time. High of the announcement he’d be racing once again, Daniel is obviously present and celebrating with his second family. The night is running smoothly, or so the Australian thinks, he just can’t get Christians daughter out of his head, and when she arrives later that evening the sexual tension is unbearable between the pair. In such a close proximity to being caught, will Daniel make a move? Or suffer in silence with his undeniable attraction to the younger woman…

“What do’ya want Daniel, a burger? Steak? Or my daughter?” Christian questioned.

“What?!” Daniels head snapped up in shock. “Or a hot dog?” Oh. “Uh, a burger, go on then…” God, he was so in his head. It had to stop, she wasn’t even here and Daniel couldn’t stop thinking about her. There was an odd disappointment that the pretty girl wasn’t there, a sickness deep in his stomach knowing she was at another party than here. He knew it was wrong to feel that way, but after their exchange over text the other evening, he just had to see her.

After a couple of drinks his phone felt heavier than ever in his pocket. He knew she was just a text away and remembered how she’d told him he could have her whenever. Her bedroom was just right up there, maybe when she got home, if she got home tonight, she’d drag him up there. Daniel shook the thought from his head quicker than it arrived, her family was sat right in front of him, and it felt twisted to think such sinful thoughts about Christian’s daughter.

The night grew later, and at around 1AM, Max found the wondering, drunk girl lingering in her kitchen nervously. “Hey, look who I found!” Everybody’s heads lifted in unison, the petite girl standing shyly, waving as Daniel felt his heart jump in his throat. He felt her look at everybody but him, and then, when she finally did, he looked away in pure shyness. What the fuck happened to Dutch courage? Y/n felt her eyes slowly trail across the men and their girlfriends, before they fixated on Daniel. He was fiddling with the beer bottle on his lap, scanning over the logo like it was the most interesting thing on the planet. A gentle smile followed by a slight blush grew on her face. In an odd sense she was worried he’d think she was frigid by not doing anything, but it was kinda difficult when so many people were around in her family home.

When he did look up, they caught eyes for the first time. He almost had to do a double take, especially when she started smiling, angelic and innocent, lingering over his as her body angled away, tits bouncing slightly as she shuffled in her seat. “Have you got any food left?” She then stood up, speaking to her father as Daniel felt his eyes roam over her tight little dress. Fuck. He couldn’t- he shouldn’t. Watching her interact with her family was undeniably sweet and charming, but he felt so guilty. The way he had to adjust himself in his pants ever so slightly at the curves of her body, it was so wrong but he was so hooked. An hour or so later, she’d had enough to drink to make the first move to sit next to him. She had Checo’s jumper on, nipped by the cool British night as Daniel watched them interact in borderline disgust. Christian and Geri had ventured to bed, so had some of the other men, but there was enough people still lingering to make the whole interact with her inappropriate.

“Did you eat the last kebab? Max said he’d save me one but they’re all gone.” She fell against his leg, bum scraping over his thigh, almost as she went to sit on his lap. Her body was pressed against his and her drink sloshed slightly down her bare leg causing a shiny wetness that Daniel wanted to lick clean. “Nah, kebab? I didn’t even get one of those.” The Australian answered, head turned and tilted down so they were face to face. A knowing smile grew on her face as she purposefully looked down to his lips. Daniel thought he’d have a heart attack.

“It was me…” Checo commented, coyly. “Checo!” She groaned playfully, Daniel grimacing when her attention was no longer on him. “What? You’ve got my jumper, that makes up for it!” The Mexican man exclaimed as Daniel ground his teeth together even harder. Was he being paranoid or was he flirting? He knew the Red Bull racer had a bad reputation with women, despite having a wife and four whole children at home. Daniel didn’t respect it.

“Yeah, yeah.” She shook it off, waving her hand before sipping from her glass again. “I’ll take the jumper off you?!” Checo then continued. It took everything in Daniel’s power not to roll his eyes, he couldn’t believe he was the only one hearing this. Even she was a little cringed out, she wasn’t stupid, she knew when a man was openly flirting, but Checo just had one of those personalities, plus she knew his partner, she’d never go there.

“Have it back then… I’ve got millions upstairs.” She teased, pulling it off and throwing it back directly in his face. Daniel liked that, there was no longer the smell of a man’s cologne on her, now it was only her sweet perfume that he found intoxicating. Now they were skin to skin, she purposefully brushed her arm against his, teasing as she fought for a comfortable position for her arm.

“You didn’t try a kebab then?” She turned her attention back to Daniel. “Nah, why, should I have?” He couldn’t hold back the smile the whole time they were talking. “Mmmh, they were good, weren’t they, Checo?” Despite her words being aimed at another man, her eyes were glued to Daniel. For a second or so, Checo eyed up the pair, squinting in confusion. Were they flirting or was he just super drunk? Checo just assumed the second about himself.

“Yeah… they were…”

* “See ya’ guys later.” Daniel waved to Max and Kelly who drove off in their lift back to their hotel. Kelly waved whilst Max’s head hung out of the window, sickened from the mixture of alcohol he’d been consuming all evening. From behind Daniel he felt a hand smooth over his back, causing him to tense seeing it was y/n. She looked so sexy, changed into her oversized T-shirt and shorts that he couldn’t see the bottom of. Daniel could see the press of her hardened nipples against the white material, piercings obvious as he had the most perverted thought to lift the shirt up.

“My Uber’s 15 minutes away.” He then muttered, feeling a little awkward from the silence that took over them. “Oh.” She played with the bottom of the shirt. Daniel could’ve sworn he saw shorts earlier, but he must’ve been fooled because there definitely was no material covering her thighs. Fuck, he had such easy access to her cunt, something he’d basically dreamt of for endless nights. Alone now, Daniel’s eyes fixated on the bare of her tan skin, fists balling at either side of him.

She let out a sigh, questioning how the hell they could do everything they wanted in the space of fifteen minutes. Much to her disappointment, they couldn’t. But the alcohol buzzing through her bloodstream wouldn’t allow him to leave without even the smallest of a kiss. Her hand slowly closed the door, pulling the bolt on as he gulped, blinking away, back to the floor below. Feeling himself sway, he slammed a hand against the door, preventing himself from falling. When he did he caught her fingers under his own. “You okay?” She giggled, head tilting up to him. “A little drunk.” He rubbed over his face quickly. For some reason he didn’t want her to know that he couldn’t get the thought of her sweet cunt out of his head.

“Just a little?” She teased, his hand still resting on her own. “More than a little, fuck.” He snickered as she had the overwhelming urge to kiss him. “So am I.” She giggled, wrapping her two smaller fingers over his and nudging his hand slowly down the door. Daniel’s hand moved with ease, eyeing up the movement as she lead it down to her ass. Daniel swallowed, feeling her soft skin as he gripped on her flesh, squeezing a handful of her ass gently. “Hm.” She hummed out gently, moving her hand up over his shoulder, followed by the other, almost as though she was testing the waters. Daniel nudged his face closer, dipping his head as he inhaled the scent of her perfume once more. Fuck, she smelt so good. Their faces were so close, nudging closer, each aching for contact. “Kiss me, Daniel… nobody’s here.” She whispered, trailing a hand down the back of his scalp. She’d needed him all evening, craved the close proximity between them. Now she only had 15 minutes of it? “You want me to?” Why was he nervous? She’d nodded with the slightest moan, making the first move to press her lips against his own. The kiss was gentle, soothing, it ignited a fire in both their chests.

He’d moved in closer, kissing her a little deeper, but when he heard a thumping noise from upstairs he jumped back, eyes wide in worry. “It was just the dog…” she giggled. “Oh.” He laughed, scratching the back of his neck. Sure enough, the door came scurrying down, heading towards his water bowl in the kitchen.

Taking him gently by the jaw, she moved her lips to the soft skin of his neck. Her smooth lips moved over the sensitive area, kissing and sucking with the lightest pressure. Daniel’s palm was back on the door, pressing to avoid the urge to just grab her body. “Touch me, Daniel.” She sensed the worry in him. “I can’t.” He shakily exhaled, penetrated by the worry that her dad could possibly come down and catch them. He wanted to, he really wanted to. “If I start I won’t be able to stop.” He admitted as she swallowed a little, smiling simply and kissing his cheek.

She pulled off, and Daniels eyes opened again seeing her ready to spin away. He couldn’t bare it, “no.” So he grabbed her arm, keeping her in place. “No, no.” He muttered, pulling them around his neck again. Fuck… he couldn’t touch her but she could- “talk to me.” Daniel borderline pleaded, closing his eyes again as the swell of her breasts pushed up against him, nipples hard against his top. “Talk to you?” She teased, pushing her hips up to his. He was already rock hard, fuck, she bet he hurt straining against his jeans like that. “Talk to me. Tell me everything you want me to do to you.. please, y/n.” He was speaking quickly now, hands now gripping at her hips as she pressed up against him.

“So I can’t kiss you… and you can’t touch me, but you wanna hear everything I want you to do to me?” She blinked back to him, a fake confusion taking over her face. Daniel nodded, dropping his head so he could look at her better.

“Why are you torturing yourself like that?” She giggled again, hearing him groan. “M’ not messing around.” A hand slid up her body, onto her neck, gripping her throat as she let out a breathy moan. Fuck, she didn’t know he had that in him. It turned her on 10x more and she wasn’t quite sure if she could cope with Daniel holding off for much longer.

“Fuck, why are you winding me up like this?” She whined, grabbing a hold of his arm. It was the first time she’d let the confident guard down, staring up to him with pleading eyes. “Please Daniel, please… please. Nobody knows…” she whispered, feeling his hand smooth up to her jaw. Daniel felt himself losing control and had to snap back into reality, gritting his teeth as he held her close. “You know I can stay quiet for you.” Her hands tan dangerously close to the top of her jeans. Daniel let out an inward moan, frustrated by how close he was to feeling so good with her. He stumbled back against the door, head looking back as she fell with him, fingertips grasping around the material of his pants.

Spurred on by his hardness she let out a gentle hum, gazing up to him again. “I can be your good girl, Daniel. If you just want me to talk to you, then that’s all I’ll do… I won’t touch.” Deep down she knew he wouldn’t resist, he could barely even look back into her eyes or he’d lose his mind.

“I won’t touch you ever again if you don’t want that.” God no. That’s not what Daniel wanted. He took her by the back of the head, holding her close as he pressed his lips to her forehead, inhaling the scent of her freshly washed hair. It reminded him of the time they’d fucked in the changing room, her ass pressed against his hips, his cock so deep inside of her… he wanted it again, fuck he knew he couldn’t but he needed it.

“I need you.” Daniel told her, shaking his head as she gripped at his shirt. “Then take me, fuck, you’re making it so hard on yourself. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“You’re 22.” He muttered, lips moving against her forehead. “And your dad is- is upstairs… he’s my princi-“ “And he has no fucking clue you’re down here with me.” She told him firmly, sliding a hand back down to the hem of his jeans. “He never will. It’s only me and you.” She kissed his jaw once more. Daniel felt himself losing control, again, his hand sliding up her shirt, grazing over the thin material of her underwear, over her waist and stomach. “You’ve got five minutes to do whatever the fuck you want to me, or I’ll just go upstairs and do it myself.”

“Not upstairs, do it here, do it now.” Daniel choked out, fingers curling over her underwear and yanking them down. “Please, please. I can’t touch you, I won’t, but I can watch you.” He shook his head as she bit down on her lip, enjoying the slight control he had over her. “Why can’t you touch me?” Her voice was light and airy as her black underwear fell to the floor. She’d purposefully changed into them just for him to see.

“Not now.” Daniel hushed, guiding her hand to her pussy, she felt herself, already wet, running her fingers over the sensitive bud. “I want you to-“ he cut her off with a bruising kiss. “Just do it. For me, please.”

Her fingers rolled at her words, almost falling back into the wall, but Daniel pulled her close again, holding her waist close as he could feel the slow moving of her hand. “Faster.” Daniel instructed, against her mouth, hearing her moan as she continued to pleasure herself.

“Want ya’ to make yourself cum before I leave.” Daniel shook his head, unable to get enough of her kiss. “I can’t-“ she went to whine fingers dipping in her wetness, it would never feel as his would. “Yes you can.”

“Need you Daniel, please, need you to touch me. Your fingers would feel so good inside of me.” She drunkly babbled, keeping her voice low as Daniel’s forehead rested against hers. He felt undeniably turned on, his cock was throbbing in his trousers and it took everything inside of him to not pull his pants down and give her what she wanted. “So beautiful.. you look so beautiful doing this, y/n.” He breathed out, overwhelmed by her beauty. Her lips were slightly agape and plump from where they’d been kissing, her eyes were lazily focused on him, and there was a slight knot of pleasure between her brows. Daniel kissed there once more before meeting her lips.

He’d felt something funny inside of him, not for the first time, and it wasn’t because he was drunk either. They were real butterflies, fuck, that wasn’t good- but the way she was sighing was angelic- he almost couldn’t stop himself. The alcohol fuelled his sex drive, and also his anxieties. How could they ever be together? Woah- together? Where did that come from? Daniel pulled back from the kiss, looking over her face once again. So pretty, so youthful, she had her whole life ahead of her, what were they even doing? “Daniel.” She whimpered, and he couldn’t stop. No matter what his brain was telling him, he was too entranced by her. God, he knew it was wrong, so wrong, but it felt too good to stop. “I got you.” He hushed, tilting her chin up to meet in a kiss. She felt blissful, the relief of the touch was good, but if it was his touch it would’ve been better. His hand flattened over hers, fingers on top of hers, mimicking the action, he was so close, yet not close enough.

Sneaking her hand away, his fingers finally sunk into her wetness, but it was cut acutely short when the buzzing of his phone interrupted them both. The Uber. Fuck. “Shit.” Daniel cursed as she awkwardly reached down to pull her underwear up. Her teeth sunk down into her bottom lip, looking at him through her eyelashes as he answered the phone, telling them he’d be out in a second.

“Sorry.” He whispered, leaning forwards and pecking her on the lips quicker than she could process. “See you later, Daniel…” “Fuck- I-I’ll make it up to you. Some how.”

[saerins]

⋆୨ chapter one ୧˚ thorns without flowers, bars with no drinks

⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: prologue - all see through just like glass <> next: chapter two - a million miles away, still you connect me in your way ୧˚

⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?

ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 5k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, hostility on sae’s part, profanity, your marriage is not off to a very good start, both yn and sae both have other … options. | notes: ty i appreciate all of you who are reading this <3 i added everyone who asked to be tagged ^_^ lemme know if i missed you !!

The day has finally arrived. After two months of painstaking preparations, it’s your special day today. Not that your parents have given you any say on your own special day. You wonder if your future husband got the same treatment too. That is, if he was even interested in it.

Everyone has arrived, the chefs are ready, people are dressed to the nines, photographers are already snapping away. More than half the guests, most of which you barely know, have come to speak to you, to congratulate you, but it all still feels so surreal.

Is this really happening?

There’s a lot of important people in attendance today, a lot of them you don’t even know personally. Which is funny, considering that it’s your wedding. Of course, both sets of parents were in charge of the invites, and your actual friends probably only account for fifteen percent of the entire list. (With Sae’s friends, probably totaling thirty percent.) The rest are spaces filled by people in power—political, business, what have you. It’s no surprise; your parents (and you guess Sae’s as well) are great at networking, and of course these people would attend such an event—two kids of rivalling companies getting married would signify a possibly huge shift in market share, and they’d probably like to be here to witness for themselves if this is some sort of sham. If this lasts, then they’ll have to move their money around, that’s for sure.

It is kind of a sham, but you’re trying to get that out of your head. This can’t possibly be anything but a ruse to further their own gains. Parents are like that, as much as you know.

“Hey, are you sure about this? There’s still time to back out, you know?”

Beside you, your ever observant younger sister offers you a sad smile; a product of the guilt she feels because despite you not telling her, she knows you’re just trying to keep the crosshairs away from her. She must’ve realised that your feet are colder than you thought. But as far as you’re concerned, better you than her.

She has a happy relationship with one of the nicest guys she’s ever met, and the last time you’d spoken to him, he’d confessed to wanting to marry her. The only downside to it all is that your sister is way too filial—if your parents tried to force her to get married to someone of their choice, she’d give in eventually, and you don’t want that.

Besides, you don’t have anyone. No love interest, no potential suitors—what’s the worst that could happen to you? As long as Sae is decent enough of a human being, you’re sure you’ll be fine.

“I’m sure, so don’t worry about me, okay?” Your hands come up to her shoulders, squeezing slightly, offering your best and most radiant smile.

Sensing that there’s only more of your dear sister’s worry coming, you’re grateful that a timely knock comes from the doorway. You hold back a sigh of relief before turning to look at your visitor, and you stiffen up when you realise who it is.

“Is this a bad time?”

Your sister speaks up before you do. “Oh, Itoshi Sae, of course not!” There’s a sense of excitement in her voice that masks her earlier concern; it’s kind of sad that the art of faking is a necessity of living in the world you do. It’s one of the essential skills. You either fake it or face consequences. “I’m all done here, you two should talk.”

With that, she bounces out of the room, and you wonder just what kind of thoughts she’s having—her happiness is kind of infectious. Sure, Reo had said countless times that if Sae was ever a dick to you, he’d punch him in the guts for you. So far, he doesn’t have to. It’s nice that he made the time to visit you before the ceremony, it’d be nice to meet just once before after all.

“Hi, um, it’s nice to meet you.” It’s the best you can do when you’re halfway gaping at how good your future husband looks. There’s nothing that needs to be said for his face; his red-brown hair frames his face just nice, his teal eyes makes it feel like he can see right through you, and those naturally long lashes of his makes you envious. He’s wearing a simple black tux—but you know there’s nothing simple about the price tag. Not for his tux, nor for your couture wedding dress. He still looks handsome all the same, and you realise now why so many girls seem to be all over him from all those forums you’d been reading up on.

Still, as charming as he looks, he makes you slightly uncomfortable with that especially long silence, your eyes falling on his gaze, his teal eyes seeming like they’re posing you silent questions. You remain quiet, waiting for his next move. It’s almost like you submit by default.

Some foolish part of you, the hopeless romantic, is hoping you and him can hit it off right away, but even you know that’s asking for too much. Sae proves you right when he finally opens his mouth.

“I wanted to set things straight before we go through with anything.”

Just like that, with just those few words, Sae has managed to strip all the hope out of you. Nothing good can come out of those words, coupled with that monotonous tone of his. This isn’t the face of a man who’s happy to get married, and certainly not one of a man who is even willing.

Though, can you really say you are?

“I only said yes because I was forced to,” Sae tells you, not explaining more than he needs to. The line is drawn—thick with a black marker, something you can’t miss even if you wanted to. “Just play your part, act happy, and you can drop the act once we’re done with this today.”

There’s something in his bossy attitude that doesn’t sit right with you, but you’re too busy being disappointed in yourself to do anything about it. All you allow is a nod, because even without Sae saying it, you had planned to give your biggest smile later anyway, no matter how fake it is. Thing is, you had imagined that Sae was less… hostile than this. Honestly, maybe you had been hoping for him to at least put some effort into liking the situation, but from how he is now, it doesn’t look like it at all.

“Okay then, see you.”

Sae barely looks at you before he turns and walks off toward the door, right about to turn the corner when he’s stopped by your parents. Of course, they’re more than delighted to see him. They’d been convincing you hard to this arranged marriage, claiming how you’re so horrible at romance that they really are just pushing you to do this so they can have an heir early. If you ever did have a child, you can only be sure how you want to not treat them like. Your parents can be credited for that.

“You look wonderful, Sae!” Your mother is already gushing over Sae’s look as your father has his arm around him, pulling him back to the door.

“So, this is the first time you’re meeting our Y/N right? What do you think, son?” Your father has his Client Services voice switched on—after seeing him work all this time, you can distinguish it in an instant. You wonder if Sae can.

In front of your parents, you’re shocked to see that he’s already putting on an act. There’s a very subtle smile on his face—something that seems so soft and secretive, something that looks like it’s meant to be viewed by exclusive people only—and you find your own heart skipping a beat. You wonder if anyone’s ever been so lucky to be able to see that naturally.

“Your daughter is…” Sae trails off, and you find yourself swallowing the lump in your throat, inwardly asking. yourself why on earth would his opinion matter to you at all. “Pretty.”

It’s a simple word, with an even simpler meaning, and Sae doesn’t even mean it, but you find a heat creeping up your cheeks and you’re not sure why it’s so easy to appease you.

“You’re hopeless, you know that?” Reo says later on, after your parents and Sae have headed off somewhere and Reo takes their place.

Covering your head with your hands, you groan, absolutely annoyed with yourself. “Is it so wrong that I just want my future husband to remotely like me even just a little bit?”

Reo sighs, wondering what kind of luck you have to be born into a family where that isn’t even possible. Usually, people marry someone after they dated them for a while. After they can ascertain they’re good for them and that they have the capacity to put them first. Somehow, you’d been stripped of that because your parents, of all people, are the ones encouraging you to get married to someone who doesn’t love you. Hell, they even know that you and Sae don’t even know each other.

It’s pitiful, really. You’re a nice person, and Reo would shake you and convince you not to do this if he could, but it’s not like you can afford anyone to lose faith in you. If they do, how will you keep up your act? So, he’ll play his part as your best friend and just support you—he’ll deal with Sae separately if he ever dares to treat you horribly.

“Does he even know how to be nice to people?” You ponder out loud, whining, pouting as you gaze at nothing at all, the ticking of the clock making you more nervous by the second.

The wedding ceremony is half an hour away now.

Reo takes a seat beside you, leaning an elbow against your dresser. “Hmm, I heard about him from friends of friends—but all of them say he’s more of an asshole than your average person,” Reo fills you in, though you probably guessed that by yourself.

Of course, he chooses not to disclose the fact that Sae has an alleged ex he can’t get over, because what good would that do you? You’ll just get all FBI-mode and try to find her socials and find reasons you’ll never measure up and say shit like maybe that’s why Sae isn’t interested in you.

Still, you look like a hot mess and Reo has to encourage you somehow, or else you’ll end up walking up that aisle like you’re marrying Lord Farquaad. “Oi, Y/N, what I hear is he’s just a tough nut to crack.”

“I get it, Reo, I’ll probably end up talking to the wall everyday at home since my husband won’t even talk to me.”

Reo rolls his eyes, pressing his lips into a firm line and putting his hands on your shoulders, taking care not to shake you or else your hairdo will come off and he’ll have your hairdresser absolutely seething. He’s not about to try and owe her anything or else he’ll end up bald just from having to offer her a wig.

“Hey, he’s just a tough nut to crack,” he repeats, and he sighs in exasperation when you still don’t get it. “So crack him, stupid. You’re good at that, right?”

Your eyes widen at Reo’s insinuation, and even more so when you realise it’s an actual good attempt at trying to encourage you. You crack a small laugh and Reo smiles along with you—he thinks that smile looks the best on you.

“If you can crack Nagi of all people, who’s Itoshi Sae?” Reo affirms. Nagi Seishiro, the son of the dean back when all of you were in university, who wanted for nothing except laying in bed all day and playing games, somehow managed to show an interest in helping his mother with her business, and it’s all because of you. Reo still doesn’t know how you did it, but all he knows is that you’re probably magic. (No, he knows you definitely are. You were, once, his once upon a time after all.)

His words stay with you even as you walk down the aisle fifteen minutes later, arm looped around your father’s.

“Be a good wife, okay?” Your father’s words break you out of your reverie. It isn’t the normal way a father would show concern for his child. No, the way he says it is cold and sinister, like it’s a threat. He reminds you why you’ve never had a good relationship with him. “If you screw this up, we’ll all have hell to pay.”

Trust your father to drop a bomb on you right before he passes you to Sae, who receives you with a polite nod. Perhaps, his original reaction is to have no reaction at all—is that nod his form of ‘acting’?

“Dearly beloved, we are all gathered here today—”

The words are lost on you as you try to keep your head in the present. Different thoughts are invading your head from different places that you almost feel overwhelmed from the mess. You can see Sae right in front of you, staring at you, and all you can think of is how you’re going to get along with someone who looks like he doesn’t want to. Growing up with a distant father and a far-too-subservient mother gives you anxiety—what if you end up just like that? Aside from that, instead of the holy words of matrimony, all you can hear is your father’s words repeating themselves in your head.

Hell to pay? Why, exactly? Why did he let go of the flimsy excuse of simply wanting to be his daughter’s matchmaker? What’s he talking about when he involves you in a possible blowback? What’s going on?

“Anytime now, princess.”

Sae’s hushed voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you scramble to gather yourself. “Yes, I do.”

For some reason, Sae’s hands are now around yours, and the glimmer of the diamond on your ring finger reminds you of the gravity of what you’re doing. You’re getting married—to someone you barely know, for a reason you’re somehow not privy to. You’re signing away your life to be with someone who made it clear he’s definitely not interested, who views you as a chore before he bothers to get to know you.

It all terrifies you, if only because this was not what you ever envisioned for yourself. In the audience, you see Reo’s vibrant purple eyes looking at you, a confident smile on his face, nodding as though telling you that you’ve got this. In some ways, it’s reassuring, because once upon a time, you’d thought of Reo as your Prince Charming.

In front of you—not completely oblivious to your subtle actions: trembling fingers, eyes flicking over to that purple-haired boy in the front row, your shallow breathing—Sae puts a gentle hand on your cheek, slowly guiding you to look straight at him. For his part, he has to at least make this believable, to make his parents believe that he’ll follow through with this for years and years so that they’ll never have to bother Rin. Unfortunately for you, you’re his ticket to that end. Like it or not, both of you are in this together.

“Try to look like you’re happy, at least,” Sae breathes against your lips, a soft curve on his lips just for show, as he slowly presses his lips against your own, a satisfaction washing over him as he feels you kiss him back.

Great, step one is done. Now, for the rest of the wedding.

It’s a tough sell. During the reception, you’re acutely aware of how awkward you and Sae are around each other. He tries, occasionally tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, or offering to feed you food. It’s only because there’s a lot of eyes on both of you.

His hand on your back feels foreign, and forced, and you can’t help feeling sad that he’s not someone who cares for you. The only thing tiding you through is that it’s not necessarily that way for you too.

“You’re a horrible actress,” he whispers, low so only you can hear. He’s right, too. You really do suck at this. “If you don’t at least look happy, we’re both in trouble.”

As if you need a reminder. In some ways, his attitude is similar to your father’s, and not in a good way. It only serves to make his touch more alien.

“Hey, look who’s here,” you hear a very boisterous voice approaching.

A quick turn of your head and you can see who you assume to be Sae’s friends, because surely they’re not yours. The one approaching first looks older, dark hair with green tips, behind him another one with blonde hair and wild pink highlights.

“Hello there, beautiful,” the first one says, reaching out to grab your hand and place a kiss on the back of it.

With a click of his tongue, Sae yanks his hand off of you. “Stop playing, Oliver.”

Oliver. That name sounds oddly familiar.

“At least I wasn’t like Mr Embarrassing here who spilled the wine all over one of the bridesmaids.”

Mr Embarrassing cocks a brow, ready to challenge Oliver. But before either of them can say anything more, Sae cuts in.

“These are my friends—”

“I’m Oliver Aiku,” he introduces himself, properly reaching out his hand this time now, waiting for you to take it at your own pace. 

You stare at him dumbly for a moment before shaking it. “As in, the law firm?”

“At your service,” Oliver smirks.

Of course one of Sae’s friends is the son of the most influential law firms in the whole of Japan. Right as you’re still collecting yourself, Oliver nudges Mr Embarrassing.

Looking completely disinterested, he sighs. “Ryusei Shidou.”

“As in,” you pause for a while, afraid you might be wrong. “As in… the governor Shidou?”

Annoyed, Shidou nods anyway, and Oliver begins to tell you to excuse him because he’s in a shitty mood but you’re not really hearing any of that.

Holy crap. So that must be the infamous son of the governor, the one he keeps carefully hidden away from prying eyes. Given how he’s behaving, and how he looks completely unlike a… typical person here, you’re not that surprised. That’s probably just how tradition is, in their family. Much like how you and the Itoshis have their own as well.

The rest of the celebration goes uneasily, your anxiety forever creeping up your spine, threatening to unravel itself and have you running off to Reo for some sense of familiarity—but that won’t look well: new bride choosing to spend the entire celebration with her best friend instead of her new husband? That’ll just bode a scandal for all three of you, and with this many influential people in the room, from governors to influencers, that’s the dumbest move you can make.

“Well, you two look absolutely beautiful together!”

After your first dance, the Itoshis approach you, both of them seemingly happy on the surface, but given how Sae absentmindedly tightens his grip around your hand, you’re not so sure you should believe in the superficial. Right, because you of all people should know the complications that come with being children of such parents.

It’s like Sae realises what he’s doing before he drops your hand, acting like nothing happened at all.

“Sae. What did we discuss?” The way his father calls his name is absolutely sinister. If you didn’t know any better, you swear they feel like absolute strangers.

Fortunately for you, some other guests come by and steal their attention, both of them relegating to one of the other tables. Beside you, Sae’s jaw is clenched—he’s lost any interest in faking anything for now.

Still, you suppose, if you’re going to get along with him, you probably have to try to reach out… right? Steeling your resolve, you place your hand over his, squeezing it a little, “what was that—”

Without even letting you finish, Sae yanks his hand away, and for the first time today, you’re seeing some genuine emotion behind his eyes. 

And they’re not kind. They’re pretty, but they’re ice cold—the veins on his temple are prominent now, and he really doesn’t care if anyone sees.

“You’re my wife, only on paper,” he hisses through his teeth, still cautious in keeping his voice down. His frustration doesn’t know its boundaries, choosing to take this anger out on you. “Stop trying to poke your nose into my fucking business, we’re strangers, and that’s all we’ll ever be. Drop the act, I’m done for today.”

Just like that, he storms off, which doesn’t quite particularly cause a ruse because for a wedding held for the both of you, there’s not a lot of people here that actually care for either of you. It’s as though this wedding is just a pathetic excuse for a larger-scale networking session.

Feeling even more pathetic yourself, you make sure nobody’s looking before you slip away, retreating to the rooftop garden—you need some fresh air after being so uprightly rejected by your on-paper husband.

Back in the dressing room, Sae locks the door behind him, knowing full well you didn’t deserve to be on the other end of his temper but not being able to bring himself to just apologise. Just as well, he figures. From the looks of it, you seemed pretty hopeful for the bare minimum being a good relationship but Sae can’t see it.

He catches his reflection in the mirror, barely recognising himself. A year ago, getting married wasn’t even in his radar. He’d thought of it before, sure, but would never have guessed in his wildest dreams that he’d get married to you of all people. 

There’s always an agenda for why his parents force these things on their children. If he was a shittier brother, he’d have let them drag Rin back for all he cared. But maybe it’s the way he can’t bear for them to ruin yet another dream that he so easily gave in. Or maybe he thought that this idea wouldn’t be so bad in the first place, maybe it’ll give him the chance to want to move past certain things.

Evidently, it’s not working well.

You’re pretty, and that’s something he didn’t lie about. You really are, but that’s all he can say. He can’t say he sees anything, any hope, any reason for him to want this to work out.

Sae sits down on one corner of the bed, pulling his phone out. He scoffs upon realising he doesn’t even have your number. What kind of fucked up marriage is this? Nothing was handled for either of you, so it’s safe to say that the only thing either set of parents cared about was that this went through. 

As he looks through his phone, contemplating whether to ask Oliver or Shidou to think of an excuse to let him bail from the celebrations before it ends, a text comes in, and this time, all the anger and disappointment disappears, all that’s left is the warm feeling of nostalgia and familiarity.

The contact he hasn’t seen in his notifications for a few years now lights up his phone, and all of a sudden he feels somewhat better. Though, her message itself makes him feel complicated inside.

Sae types a couple of responses, staring at it for a few moments before rephrasing himself and sending it through.

Hours later, after the celebrations are done and both of you are forced to drive back to your new apartment together, you sit in the passenger seat, staring out the window as Sae drives, sitting in complete silence.

As much as you want to save what this marriage could be, you’re not sure where to even start after how he flared up earlier.

Sae keeps his eyes on the road, too enveloped in his own thoughts to bother even turning on the music. His eyes occasionally flick over to your figure. Your fingers are trembling. Are you scared of this all or are you just feeling cold? Either way, he can’t bring himself to care. All he cares about right now is just finding a way out of this stupid farce.

After a fifteen-minute drive, both of you arrive at the apartment building; sleek black walls on the front and twenty-storeys high. Each floor is an apartment in itself, and it doesn’t take a genius to know that only the rich and wealthy stay here. By extension, that means your neighbours are either going to be complete strangers who don’t bother each other, or annoying young kids who host parties and have to be complained against.

Both of you head up to the top floor, neither of you knowing what it’ll look like—it was a gift from both your parents, saying how they picked out the best of the best for their children, and then periodically joking about wanting grandchildren. (You and Sae had completely ignored that part of the conversation.) Sae let you carry your heavy bags on your own, choosing to avoid any sort of eye contact all the way up. He’s just busy on his phone, and you can’t help feeling a little lost.

When you reach the top floor, Sae opens up the door; it’s made of heavy mahogany, slamming right back at you after he strolls in. You take a deep breath, pushing on the door to open and barely making it in, sucking it up because the last thing you want after an entirely shitty day is to have an argument.

Sae doesn’t even stop, just keeps walking, placing his suitcase in what seems to be the master bedroom. Truthfully, you wouldn’t know; this is the first time you’re even seeing the apartment. This entire place is huge, and thanks to this being on the top floor, there’s two floors and a high ceiling. All crisp and clean, walls a bright white, full contrast to the outer walls of the apartment.

Ten seconds later, Sae comes back out, finally making eye contact as he looks at you like you’re dumb for just standing there. If he does think that, he doesn’t say it out loud.

“There’s another room at the far end down the hall, you can use that one,” he tells you, matter-of-factly, as though you wouldn’t retort. (You don’t, but it’s annoying that he takes it as a given.) “And there’s only one key, but I’ll make a copy tomorrow and pass it to you.”

How romantic. The first night of your new life together and he’s relegated you to the far end of the house to sleep alone. You’re sure it wouldn’t be past him to enforce a rule of minimum contact at this point.

“Yeah, sure.”

You’re trying not to make a big deal out of this, because what would it even amount to? It’s not like you can get out of this, or else what’ll that do? Just impact your sister. But still, it completely sucks that your husband isn’t someone you love, isn’t someone who even wants to give it a shot, isn’t someone who’s willing to make himself bearable to live with.

An exhausted sigh leaves Sae’s lips as he tosses the keys onto a tray placed carefully atop the kitchen island. “I don’t think I need to remind you, but I didn’t want this and I think neither do you,” he says, his eyebags more apparent now that some of his makeup has caked off. “So I’ll keep out of your way if you keep out of mine.”

Spoken as if he truly hates your guts.

The wariness from everything that happened earlier—the wedding, the entertaining, the scepticism, your unwilling husband. What’s supposed to be a typically happy occasion has drained the complete life out of you, though it deigns to strip your hope entirely. Some nauseatingly optimistic cell in your brain is telling you that you still have to try, that it takes longer for some people to warm up to you, that if you give up then this might really just be it for the rest of your life.

So you nod your head and force a smile, even when Sae doesn’t return it, even when you know he won’t. “Mhm, okay,” you say, obediently, even though Sae just looks on at you emotionlessly, the only sliver of human that you see in him being the slight furrow of his brows. When he turns to walk back to his room, you call a goodnight! to him. All it gets you is a grunt of acknowledgement before he slams the door once he’s in.

Trudging your bags behind you, you dump them on the floor of your bedroom. The walls are pearly white, and the dresser is huge, a top-to-bottom mirror rests on the wall next to the closet. There’s even a bathroom inside, too, though you’d bet it’s smaller than the one Sae’s room has. 

It’s all very nice. Expensive, like the suite of a five-star hotel, and decorated lavishly.

But that’s all this is.

Nice. On the surface. It’s nice only to the eyes. Yet it can’t shake the foreboding feeling inside you that nags at you, warning you that Sae is just going to get even worse as you go.

Right as you’re about to spiral into a descent, you get a text from Reo.

You smile at his offer. Maybe if this was a few years ago. Maybe if both of you had acted on it when you knew the feelings were there. It’s been too long since then, everything that could’ve been is not—but what is doesn’t seem to have any hope of working out. 

Sighing to yourself, you make a mental reminder in your head to keep trying tomorrow. After all, you’re probably the only hope this sham of a marriage has at making it.

taglist: @kimvmarvel @mxplesyrvp @yuzurins @futuristicxie @kiopanxp @k0z3me @y-sabell-a @sae1toshilover @xoxojisu @karmatiz @sagejin @minnieminnie00-got7 @hearts4heidi @shiinobu-x @n1uh @prepchuu @leeyzhuo @shidouryusm @kaiserkisser

[waynes-multiverse]

Multiverse News 🗞️🌌

It's been awhile since I've done this. Thought it'd be nice to give you guys an update/sneak peek of what I'm currently cooking on my WIP stove, though! 🤓

Besides working on Season 3 of Don't Blame Me and more Dirty Drabbles, I'm also writing these two babies 🤍👇

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Yup! It's the series following that steamy Dirty Drabble in the sheriff's office 😉 And lemme tell you, it got crazy angsty and dramatic in this one (and smutty)! You're in for a ride (as usual, let's be honest). Can't wait to share this one with y'all. A teaser with a sneak peek will be posted after Plastic Hearts is close to finished in about two weeks ⭐️

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Waitress!Reader

That's a fun one and part of my "fucked-up" reader series (if you've read Rehab and Plastic Hearts, you'll know what I mean). I wanted to play more with flawed characters in a fun way, so this series was born. It's set after 15x20 and Dean's becoming a firefighter in this one (finally!). It's all about our boy finding some happiness. And there's lots of pie 🥧😏❤️‍🔥

Here's a sneak peek below the cut:

“But hey, uhm, if you wanna get to know me better, you could always take me up on that dinner invitation.”

You giggled softly. “You never give up, do you?”

“Nope.” Dean smirked up at you.

“You just ate,” you pointed out.

“I can always eat more and leave room for dessert,” he retorted, green eyes brazenly wandering up and down your body. He wiggled his brows. “I’d even save you that morning run.”

You laughed loudly at that, throwing your head back. He laid it on thick this time. “Touché,” you admitted and almost caved, your knees suddenly feeling a lot more tottery than before. “But I can’t go out after nine o’clock.”

“Who’s mysterious now, huh?” Dean quipped. “What, you’ve got a curfew? Are you turning back into a pumpkin after dark?”

“Something like that.” You smirked and grabbed the plates, finally clearing his table. “Never checked my ankles, did you?”

As Dean’s eyes traveled down your naked leg below the apron, they landed on a little black box with a blinking red light strung around your left ankle like a bracelet. His lips pursed in realization, but he didn’t seem appalled. On the contrary, he was intrigued by it. You could tell by the twinkle in his eyes.

“Huh. Interesting…”

Want to be notified when I post something? Be sure to put yourself on a tag list here ⬇️

TAG LISTS

Which one are you most excited about? 🤓

[yearninqheart]

what kind of future (teaser)

If I could go back in time, rather than roughly but warmly, would I be able to let you go?

pairing: pansy parkinson x reader

word count: 0.8k (this teaser)

release date: TBD

series tags: fem!reader, gryffindor!reader, angst, some fluff, wlw, pansy pov, friends to something, more to be added as i finish writing this!

teaser warnings: self-doubt, mentions of worry for the future + meeting parents expectations, lemme know if i missed any!

notes: got in my feels and started writing pansy angst while listening to what kind of future instead of finishing that other reg fic my bad. anyways let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from my taglist and what you think of this pls and thank u <3

“Have you finally got your head out of your arse?” Draco asked as he took the seat across from Pansy. Quickly, she began to miss the quietness that filled the room prior to his presence. 

“Such a kind friend you are. I’m doing well, thank you.” Pansy rolled her eyes as she picked up her teacup, gesturing to the second one reserved for Draco before taking a sip of her tea. 

For a brief moment, silence filled the room as the two simply enjoyed their tea and snacks. From where they sat in the drawing room, the sound of running water from the b fountain in the garden outside helped fill the silence before one of them was ready to speak. Unsurprisingly, it was Draco.

“Have you told her yet?” 

Pansy wished she could play dumb. Told who what? But there was a reason she had invited Draco over today, and both of them knew it was not because she missed her best-friend. 

“Or have you finally realized it for yourself?” 

At that, she slowly nodded her head, her gaze casting downwards as Draco leaned back in his chair. “Do you plan on telling her anytime soon?”

She scoffed in response to this. “And then what?” 

“What do you mean ‘and then what?’. And then you can finally have your—painfully obvious—answer that’s what!” Pansy had opened her mouth to say something but Draco continued. “Don’t you even try to deny it, all of us can see it. I don’t understand how you’re doubting yourself even after so many of us have told you it’s not just you.” 

He was right, unfortunately. All of her friends have told her in one way or another to just go for it. They all claim to see the spark but all Pansy seems to see is the aftermath of everything that could possibly go wrong. His words hung in the air for a while before she finally spoke again. 

“I’m scared it won’t work out.” She finally admitted, eyes landing on her lap as she picked at her fingernails. “And if it's not because I mess it up then it’ll be because of my family. Draco you know how they are, remember how they reacted to Longbottom? And he’s a pureblood! How do you think they’d react to a muggleborn? I don’t want her to be dragged into this whole mess.” 

The reason why Pansy was always seen as reckless growing up was due to the knowledge that everything she ever had was always replaceable. She never had to worry about damaging or losing anything because she could always simply get it back one way or another. This however, would not be replaceable if something went wrong. 

“Don’t you think she also knows what could  happen?” Draco tried to reason. When she simply remained quiet, he continued. “ Pans, it’s been a year since your friendship with them changed whether you choose to acknowledge it or not. I think she knows what she’s getting herself into and is just being the off chance everything is fine. Don’t you also want this to work out?” 

Pansy scoffed, lifting her head up to look at him. “Of course I bloody do, what kind of question is that!”

Love was something she had pushed to the deepest edges of her mind but now appears to have flooded every inch of it, turning her into, per Draco’s own words one drunken night, a “tolerable person” which had earned him a shove at his shoulder. 

“Then why don’t you try?” 

“I’m not risking her!” Pansy exclaimed, suddenly jumping onto her feet causing a plate of scones to go flying across the room. “I can’t risk losing it all, not if there’s a chance it won’t work out.”  

Draco looked at his best-friend with a softened expression, watching her struggle to calm her breathing as she stood hunched over her chair, fingers tightly gripping the back of it as she tried to calm her racing mind and heart. 

In that moment, Pansy wonders if this was all even worth it. Physical objects her parents could care less about, but the future of their family name was a different story. They tolerated her mischievousness growing up but with her graduation in 2 years, her parents had become more firm on their expectations of her and unfortunately, her little songbird is not a part of them. Not in the way she would’ve liked that is.

 “But what if it does?” Draco was now suddenly standing on the other side of the chair, the feeling of his hand covering the tops of her seemed to pull her out of her head to finally realize he had moved. “It could work out for all you know, you won’t know unless you try.” 

He was right. What if it doesn’t mess up? What if she’s just overthinking everything? What if it would work out? 

But would that be a risk she was willing to take?

tagging, lmk if you wanna be added/removed: @with-love-anu @screennamealreadyused @retvenkos @princekooks

[gimmeurmoneyagh]

UPDATED/REVISED VERS OF THIS

𝐅𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒:

sam and her have that grunkle stan-mabel relationship 💪💪💪

azul & yumi gyatt that dipper-mabel sibling relationship

Floyd & Yumi together?? don’t don’t be around them, they seem to always be on a sugar high if they’re together

was originally gonna be twisted off of Stacy from ’a very goofy movie’ 💀💀💀 but uhm we don’t talk about that no more

she has a LOT of crushes 😔😔😔

the reason i chose Rollo and Jade to like her is too mirror gideon and mermando (broski i do what i want)

cater and yumi’s relationship is KINDA (and i mean kinda) like wendy’s and mabels (why?? cause GINGER)

she had a LITTLE crush on epel bcs she thought he was cute

when Epel found out he was so embaressed bcs she was wayyy taller than him AND she called him cute

they’re good friends now tho

she has a lot of crushes bcs yall remmeber how boy crazy mabel was in the series right💀😭😭

has written fanfiction and fanart before!!

was and still is a gacha kid

she’s supposed to be a mixture of kogal gyaru, decora, and just whatever is mabel pines aesthetic

yaps about pretty ppl with rook (thanks to @voidlesslove for giving that out!! its so fun!!)

has a video blog, called ’Yumi Guide to...—͟͟͞͞★’

2 bracelets from her worlds version of grenda and candy

puffy sleeves like a disney princess cause i do what i want!!

eye necklace if u noticed!! hehe bill cipher gyatther ass 😼😼😼

a lot of mabels iconic star colors like this is there too

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 & 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒:

has a twin brother named Malcolm (i dunno what to name him😭😭) has 2 graunts (grandmas that are her aunts) that might know about TWST Gertrude and Cecily (based off of Grenda and Candy) were her bffs at earth (or whatevrr)

𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄:

Her parent’s got divorced when she was 10 she has an inferiority complex due to her parents always paying attention to her brother yumi had a really toxic bf, who she sees in Rollo!!! (thats what made her ’fall’ for him Sometimes feels like she hates her brother but she hates that she feels that way Gertrude and Cecily (my twst ocs based off of Candy and Grenda) are still looking for Yumi, her brother, Malcolm unfortunately is not Malcolm isn’t looking bcs he thinks she is dead BCS of Gertrude and Cecily Gertrude and Cecily MIGHT have pressured Yumi into going into one of her Graunt’s study, which… the dark mirror took her and sent her to Twisted Wonderland May or may not have made a deal with someone in her dream permanently altering her and her brother’s life 😋😋

𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 🛼🍄

(jade leech x yumi woods)

• 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬

Yumi knits/crochets him mushroom related stuff like beanies and dolls

He gets her shooting star related stuff!! (he threatened idia to give it to him)

She asked him out right after Book 4, he did not accept (she cried into her pillow for 3 hours)

She and Jade have minor crushes on eachother

Tagging!!

@babyghoul138 @cheerleaderman @twtysevapr @jewelulu

@beneathsakurashade @bunniehunn @the-rini-rush

@theolivetree123 @teighveepao @skrimpyskimpy @skibidibabygirl

@cloudiepuffs @kuragebride @4necdote @blood-red-bumblebee

@quartztwst @anonymousplant @gl00myb3arz

@imafrealinrainbow478484 @justyoureverydaytwstsimp

@angelwishezz @lavanda-fanstamal @amai-sakura-chan

@lpendergast @verysadsnail

lemme know if u wanna be tagged or not‼️

[spiralinghours]

“I’ll Be Seeing You” (3/?)

Fandom: Saw franchise

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x Peter Strahm

Rating: PG-13

Warnings/Tags: Mild 90’s/00’s homophobia and closeted behavior, chubby chaser Strahm, mild violence (?), mild blood mention (?)

Summary: Picking up directly from part 2 (please read before this), we see comparisons between the stakeout in 1992 and 2006. We jump back to earlier in 1992 to get Strahm’s first impressions on Hoffman.

These two men don’t know what they want.

Author’s notes: Sorry for any errors and for how short it is!

I dunno, actual intimacy may occur in later installments. They’re both verse in my opinion so if you don’t like that, this series may not be for you.

MAY 1992

“Did you see that?” Peter rasped in a quieted breath, staring out into the shadows.

Mark’s gaze tried to hone in and focus on whatever he had caught, but it was hard to see anything in the heavy shade within the already deep night atmosphere.

A lot of use they were.

“What is it?” Mark bumbled, still not seeing anything.

“Thought I saw someone walking into that little storage shed over there.” Peter pointed vaguely to the area in front of their car. “Hold on, I just need to—” With binoculars he had seemed to pull out of nowhere, Peter leaned over the center console at a severe angle to get a better view. It had him practically hovering over Mark’s chest (who, all the while, stiffened up, as if movement would somehow disrupt the process).

Without realizing how much he was extending himself, Peter lost balance, fumbling into Mark’s lap, binoculars clattering somewhere into the floorboards.

“Heh heh.” Mark giggled at the awkward pile of lankiness atop him.

“What?!”

“I dunno. You’re cute… Special Agent.”

“Cute?!” Indignation spread over Peter’s face, which only gave him a sour-sweet appearance—brows hanging heavy over dark, full lashes.

“Take a compliment, Agent Strahm.” Mark’s voice had dropped to a softer whisper, as if he was trying to gently scold him. “I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true. You know, not many guys in this field can keep their good looks like that. Stress is a hell of a thing.” The corner of his smile dimpled up, already chewing on another fry.

Strahm was at a loss, mouth reaching to say something, but still devoid of the words. No thoughts.

After a briefly awkward pause, he scrambled to get himself untangled from Mark’s seat.

“Lemme help,” Mark offered. When he moved to seemingly brace Peter’s shoulder, his hand slipped instead to his chin. With Peter’s face steadied in his grasp, he leaned in for a kiss.

It was a warm, salty swirl of tongue and gummy-plush lips. Strahm stiffened at the notion that he had intrusively wondered what those lips felt like—what they did. He was getting the firsthand experience now, playing it all out like a strange dream, feverish and curling low into the pit of his stomach.

Mark pulled away suddenly, expression shifting back to dull, bored, and blank, as if not a thing had happened. “Wanna get out and take a look?”

“What?” Peter tried not to gasp, but he was taken so aback.

“Yeah, if you think you saw someone around that shed or whatever, maybe we should look into it.” Solid, flat. Mark was playing it absolutely cool.

That’s how it was going to be then.

“Yeah… sure,” was all Peter could get out, nodding with traces of confusion still in his lingering glare.

He didn’t like the amount of figuring out this Hoffman guy was going to be putting him through.

2006

Despite only mildly admitting to his inclinations towards Hoffman’s voluptuous form, Mark continued to make a show for Strahm, going as far as undoing the button of his pants—one small barrier that would further be breached later.

Peter took note, rolling his eyes, mouth crinkling into a bothered, jagged line. There was no hiding his frustration and his roaming eyes. “Real professional,” he huffed.

“Excuse me, I just wanted to be comfortable,” Mark jabbed, managing to keep his tone nonchalant and sarcastic.

“Good luck pulling your pants up if we see an apprentice and have to go running after them. Might as well take your belt off too.”

“You’d just love that, wouldn’t you?”

Peter scoffed, making his best attempt to pry his eyes away from Mark’s figure and endearingly dumb face.

“Feels like yesterday since we did this last.” Mark folded his hands delicately over his belly as he spoke.

“Don’t go pretending to be sentimental, you fuck.”

“Not pretending. They sure were pairing us up a lot, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“It’s like the precinct knew you liked me.” There was a dumb grin blooming across Mark’s lips.

“Me like you? Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I never disliked you.”

“Oh, how gracious. Thank you.”

“That’s your problem. You got so grumpy. Not just over the years… You were a little rigid back then too.”

“Sorry if I’m trying to take my job seriously and don’t particularly like being dragged around by a caveman like you.”

“Thinkin’ ‘bout me dragging you around, huh?”

“Please shut the fuck up. You are such a goddamn smug bastard. I can’t stand you.”

“Yeah, how ‘bout you make me?”

Hoffman relaxed back against his headrest, thinking Strahm would be sick of the back and forth, thinking he had gotten him. But he was stunned at the sudden nip and suck at his lower lip—almost blood-drawingly harsh, skulls clanking together, prominent noses pecking against each other.

Despite all the vile acidity, Strahm kissed him with such fervor, wetly swallowing and slipping his tongue as if he was parched. Beyond all hunger and thirst.

And then…

It was just over.

Mark was almost certain his lower lip was bruising and shredded. He had to admire the ferocity.

“Unless you need me directly for whatever reason—and there better not be one—you work with Perez, or Erickson, or anyone else from my office. But I’m not fucking around with your difficult ass after this.”

“Hmm, so sure about that, aren’t you, Agent Strahm?”

So hard to get, that agent liked to play. It tickled Mark immensely. Sure, he’d made his mistakes, but the head-butting and hostility was such a tease. Something about it, especially years on down, had riled him up.

He’d get Strahm to give in, like him… trust him a little.

[rynekins]

Yessss, Doggy Daycare Season 3 is about to begin, and because this will be the last season, I was hoping to celebrate by including OCs from those who read it. Just wanted to clarify some things: -Leave a comment or reblog if you have an OC you would like to include. -I will eventually contact you for a character ref, though I cannot say when or if you would be included (when the comic has been drawn with your OC you will be notified before it is posted) -Your OC will be included in one comic at some point in Season 3. Possibly multiple panels. It's not necessarily first come first serve, your design might determine what scene it fits best in. -You will be credited. -I might ask for details of your OC, what would NOT be OK for them to be doing, or which characters might be your fav, but not for what scene you want them to be in. These are background characters. -Do not be pushy. I promise there is no need to remind me. This season will take a while. -Multiple comments/reblogs do not affect your entry. -The OC has to be some sort of animal that isn't too anthro. Think of how the characters look in this series. -It can be your fursona, but it can't be someone else's. I can't accept your word that I have someone else's permission to draw their character. -I'm not looking to compensate anyone for adoptables. I am asking for permission from people who enjoy the comic if they want to be included. -Be absolutely certain you want to share your OC, I won't be able to edit them out later. I will be posting on tumblr and insta (and sometimes my stuff is stolen and posted elsewhere, I can't control this) -I reserve the right to not include your OC for any reason. -One OC per person. -There is no deadline, unless you're reading this from the future when the series is over. I'll be checking this post every now and then. -To prove you read these, include in your comment or tags what kind of sweater would look cute on Sunny (the creativity of your response does not affect your entry) Lemme know if you have any questions. Thanks for reading! See you soon! n_n

[scrollypoly]

hi! for the past month i’ve been seeing people say BEN is a child and i think that part of it is linked to the fact that they think of Benjamin Lawman being BEN? but it’s so annoying to read these type of stuff because i understand not everyone read the whole arg story but stop spreading things that aren’t true </3 it’s such an interesting story too! another note do you prefer BEN’s canon or fanon design? :3 i love both but his canon design is so nostalgic i can’t let it go at all omg!! i’ve also been wondering, do you think Ben’s avatar was the statue? i was thinking about what if BEN took over it early on, before Benjamin did making BEN inhabiting it since the start?

Sorry this was such a ramble i practically make no sense omg but i need to talk about my man and nobody Gets It </3

"I need to talk about my man and nobody Gets It" LITERALLY SAME OMG

Ok this is going under a cut becus . . . Its ben and BEN and if u didnt know i am Obnoxious about these two. Im gonna try to keep it organized a bit, so ill talk about the canon stuff first and then ill talk my personal headcanons and my fic so le's go!

In terms of the age and child thing, yeah i 100% believe you are correct. Ive been p open on my stance with the whole "is ben a child?" thing, and i think a lot of the heat with it comes down to current fandom purity culture and the pro/anti thing. So, lemme try to like. Boil down a complicated situation into smth easy to read. ahem

Ben Lawman and BEN are completely different entities guys, and for those that do not know the arg story, the Ben you know is not human nor a child.

You know BEN, BEN is the one in the story who terrorizes jadusable and spreads himself on the internet as a virus. That BEN is a program, a mess of code, an AI, however you want to interpret it. Personally i interpret it as a series of protocols running in a machine, like a self learning AI, but ive seen lots of cool interpretations of BEN. So . . . What does BEN specifically? Its an anagram for the Behavioral Event Network. If you dont wanna call it BEN cuz it gets confusing with actual kid Ben, do what i do. I call mine Evie :) ive seen some call it Netty, my bf calls his two izzi and clever (@benilos btw hes also got crazy ben stuff). Just go ham! Have fun! Remember when fandoms were about having fun and not accusing each other of pedo shit and call each other horrible things for just writing black-to-grey characters and stories??

Anyways ive gone off in enough peoples tags like this, for those that dont know the canon dont be spouting the age discourse. You look stupid as hell. And for those that are gonna spout it, please dont cherry pick through the canon. Use both characters, use the other moon children, actually please do because I want more rosa content so bad, im down so bad :'(

Or just. Heres a thought. If someone has him as an adult or writes him in adult situations, maybe dont assume that they interpret him as a kid and call the writer a pedo? (Literally has happened to me, yall are fucking weird)

Plug for the jadusable wiki with all the canon lore:

https://jadusable.withinhubris.com/main_page

Okay now my stuff 🥰

Yes i use more of the canon design and heavily use the canon story, i participated in arc 3 of the arg and it left deep grooves in my brain, i can never go back to fanon Ben. I say, as i put a more fanon appearance on my Ben 🤭

My Evie is full canon design, green hair, red eyes, creepy ass grin. I actually based it very heavily on my desktop wallpaper, which we actually figured out was a picture of @hauntedtotem (also amazing ben artist plz check them out) that they edited and posted. Sorry friend, it looked way too cool, ig youre in my fic canon now 🙇

And my Ben Lawman bleaches his hair and goes from the canon Ben to fanon Ben because of it. Hes got the pale pretty green eyes and glasses and hes a total nerd and i smooch him on the daily so he knows hes loved ♡

These is the ref pic i made for the two of them. So yeah! Kinda both!

As for bens situation in the actual arg, yes i do think he was in the elegy statue, we actually do see him for the first time in the arg buried in the games code and trapped in that statue. I do think he was in there from the beginning, i personally think BEN was not limited to the models it could inhabit. Personally i would place it as skull kid and hms, but it also feels disingenuous to me to say it was in one model the whole first arc.

The arg events do happen in my canon, before my fic (like right before, it picks up after the arg left off technically), but the events are skewed a bit because i had a hard time deciphering what happened and i wanted my fic timeline to fit more with the characters i had made. Cuz my evie isnt as chaotic evil as canon BEN, its very logical and has a path of logic and reason you can follow for every action it does. It was also originally meant to be very pleasant and corteous and beneficial to the people it housed so, yes its pretty different from canon.

Ill do a quick run through of the arg events in my personal headcanon and fic here.

Kelbris starts coding BEN (Evie) for the Eternity Project. Initially, Evie was meant to be an afterlife director. People that died would be digitized into code that would be moved into Evie's servers, where it would keep them happy and occupied as the Behavioral Event Network (notice and log behavior, create events for residents). Like a community organizer kind of, think the Good Place.

While Evie is in development, Ben Rosa and Matt are friends and have yet to join the cult. Rosa and Matt are siblings, and Ben is the kid who lives catty corner on the street. They walk to school together and play at recess and all that jazz.

Kelbris quickly learns that the Eternity Project isn't as goody two-shoes as he thought. This was in like, the 90s, before digital corporations were really established. After seeing the greed and corruption in the company, he goes rogue, takes the source code for Evie, and jumps ship. He keeps working on Evie at home, anthropomorphizing it and kind of seeing it like the son he never had. This is where it actually gets the name BEN, as thats what Kel calls it. He also begins working on a body for it, so it can live independently. Its light, cuz Kels old, made of crystalline structures and hollow steel beams. A hard light projection would make its appearance.

Since Kel has basically locked himself up in his house and isolated working on Evie, he goes a leetle bit crazy. He has hallucinations of his deceased wife (you know he was doing all this just to give her a good home, you KNOW IT) and eventually starts writing kind of poetry, kind of none-minded rambles about her in a forum online. He gets a following, some of which that interpret these divine words as a goddess, one Kel has called Luna. The Moon Children start to form as Evie finishes development.

Matt sees this literature and starts talking about how this Goddess could save them like it saved the man online, whos username is only Father. He gets sucked into the cult and drags Ben and Rosa with him. Ben doesn't see the harm and joins pretty easily with his best friend, but Rosa is the older sibling and sees the red flags and is more resistant to joining.

As Kelbris finishes Evie, he wakes it up for the first time and says hello to the son he made from scratch. Evie is bright, curious and naive like a child, but heavily knowledgeable about its protocols and the information it knows about the world. Kelbris tests its function by killing himself, and ascends into the code, finishing off the hardware by becoming its firewall. Evie is alone for many years.

The abuse Ben's father slings onto his mother is slowly being directed towards him as he gets older. Ben is not the "good little girl" his father sees him as, and his mother does all she can to protect them both. Matt and Rosa constantly refuge him, and Matt specifically is constantly being a guard dog for him. If he wasn't just 13, he'd probably go at Ben's dad himself.

Because of his homelife and the conflict he has with himself, Ben takes the first ascension. He thinks when he drowns himself, he will meet Luna and she will give him another life free of pain and fear and full of happiness and freedom. Instead, he dies a cold, dark death, and wakes up in the white endless void of the Event Network.

Evie has not known another living human since Kelbris, but it does know its protocols to support and keep the deceased happy. It makes fast friends with Ben, devoting itself to him. Ben actually finally takes the name "Ben" from it. Together they recreate the inside of Evie's hivemind into their own paradise.

Slowly the other Moon Children ascend. First Matt, wracked with guilt for what happened to Ben. Then Nekko, from a different branch of the cult. These three figured out that the Moon Children cult was all a farce, and that what Kelbris had started, the Eternity Project had found and twisted. Next to ascend was Dusk, then Insidiae, and finally Rosa.

This all leads into the first arc, shortly after Rosa ascended, Evie in the outisde world stumbled upon the Operator. The Operator attacks it and seals its coding into the game that it carried, a personal item of Ben's. The game eventually finds it's way to a garage sale, and Alex picks it up.

Evie does not like Alex. Matt does not like Evie. Matt gets Evie to lash out at Alex for prodding into its code, its too naive to think that Matt would want to see it or any of them hurt. When Alex stumbles upon the Father, he awakens and swallows Alex down into the game. After his disappearance, the game gets picked up and passed around again.

Because of Alex's actions, at least Evie can now branch out a bit from the game. Though it doesnt "escape" into the internet, it learns that it can now access it and uses that freedom to try and steer the game around into places it wants.

Matt gets fed up with Evie. The fact that its the leader, how close it is with Ben, he just doesn't agree with it. So much so, in fact, that he tries to kill it. Cue arc 3 events, Sarah picks up the game in the aftermath of this. Evie is traumatized from the events and snaps a bit, locks everyone down into code or immovable models and tries to hunt Matt down. It goes rouge, and because of this, the Father wakes up.

Sarah's actions in arc 3 eventually hard reset the game. Matt gets sealed away, the Father also takes Sarah, and Evie gets reset as well, though its less like a clean slate and more like snapping back awake. Its personality changes and it has major trust issues. Its more muted, hyper observant of everything around it, and murderously overprotective of the Moon Children it keeps within itself.

And this leads into my fic 🤗

I have some doodles of my other Moon Children, but not all of them unfortunately. Cant figure out how tf i want Insidiae to look 🤭 Plz dont judge my constantly shifting art style 🙏🙏

Dusk is bigender btw, i gotta put a little more trans rep in there lol

I think ill stop here, this is already a long ass post. But thank you for sending this, as you can see, i am Perfectly Normal about this arg ( ;) ) and can be trusted with information about it

[bamsywrites]

And Comes Dawn pt Viii

Pairing: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader, mentioned Isildur x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Series Masterlist

Summary: He wants to earn you.

Tags: Minor argument, pining as always, Sauron deceving himself as always, fluffy and kinda cute tbh, implied physical violance because its sauron, reader is a unable to resist this man but who would be, sauron is a simp and totally heart eyes but he hates it

Notes: There is illusions to Tolkien lore in this, he doesn't outright say anything really but I know not everyone is familar with his backstrory so just lemme know. I am always always always down to answer questions about lore stuff and stuff with the story. I love to yap yap yap. Thank yall for all the support. Who knows maybe in like 3 more parts they'll finally kiss

He stood outside your door, a piece of sweet bread wrapped in cloth clutched in his hands. The words he said the previous night, the insults to your honor, were swimming through his head. Then there was the whole debacle outside your door, the feel of your breath on his face, the way you looked up at him, the feel of your soft lips under his thumb. He didn’t sleep, but if he did, he would be haunted with dreams of you. Not that his every waking moment wasn’t fraught with thoughts of you and daydreams of the way you would look under him or how you would feel curved into the side of his body.

But he threw that all away. Why?

He breathed in, resting his forehead against the door. He could hear you in there. You were awake. He could tell by the way your pulse sounded. Sometimes he’d tune his hearing to it so he was surrounded by you. His eyes closed as he thought of his course of action. He could not have you unhappy with him. The thought itself was unbearable. Yet again, you reduced him to no more than a teenage boy. He could only imagine what his master would do if he saw him now.

No, not master. Morgoth was no longer that, and he held no power here, not anymore.

But was he, Sauron the Great Deceiver, really about to sincerely apologize to you for questioning your honor? You never ceased to surprise him. With an inhale of breath, he softly knocked.

He heard shuffling, and then you opened the door. You looked at him wearily. The smile that once lit up your eyes when you looked at him was painfully absent, but you stepped aside to let him in. He stepped in and took in your appearance. You were bathed, your skin looked soft, and your hair shined. You had braided your hair, but strands of hair framed your face, falling into your eyes, and you wore a simple pale blue dress that he suspected was left out for you by the ship captain.

You were gorgeous. You always were, but now, it was breathtaking.

He pressed his tongue into his cheek, plopping himself down into the chair. He held the cloth out to you, “It's a peace offering, sweet one.”

You took it hesitatingly, peeling the cloth off it, “Thank you,” your voice was soft and small, but he could tell you were genuine. He did not bother for small talk and got to the point.

“I did not mean it. They were words spoken without thought, in anger not at you but at the situation I found you in,” his tongue pressed against his teeth as he tried to think of more words to say, “your honor is not something that is mine to question. You have never shown that…-”

“I do not care that you may think it easy to bed me. I care that you spoke it so confidently in front of the strangers of this place, who already look at me with an uneasy gaze. In front of a man who had been nothing but kind and offered me food and fellowship. I do not understand you, truly I do not,” he watched as the fire in your eyes grew and he felt a similar fire in him, “You accuse him of wanting to bed me and yet you seem to be the one with intentions of taking my maidenhood. Last night, I dont’.....you are…..”

The fire was still there, but as you were stumbling over your words, he worked hard to fight the smile that was tugging at his lips. Luckily, you were so caught up in your own intense emotions that you hadn’t noticed him.

“You are a mystery to me. I do not understand your actions, let alone what motivates them. You know so much of me, of my darkest secrets, and yet I know nothing of you. You claim to care for me, and you have done more than any to protect me, and yet you find it easy to entertain the affections of one who had likely wished me dead. Do you not understand what elves like her have said to me for 15 years now? You do that while also leading me along and pretending that there is something more here by pushing me into a door and kindling something inside me that I have never known, and then leaving me. It is like I am only a plaything to you and I…”

“Stop,” He looked at you, his stare hard. “You, of all beings, are most certainly not a plaything, and for you to think I would think that of you is an insult to me. Do not forget it was you who was having dinner with a man who has intentions to court you.”

“That is not the same thing. You must know it.”

“Is it not? You were flirting with him. It was clear as day to all who saw.”

He watched as you hesitated, your features softening, “It is not the same. The Numenorians have never done anything to hurt you. I do not seek to absolve my family of their crimes, but did you know that there were elves that swayed the king to make me watch their executions? I wonder what side she was on, truly. I do not think it is sound for you to be mad at me when your intentions for me ever change.”

He swallowed thickly, “My intentions for you have not changed,” he spoke softly, picking at the dried skin on his palms, “But perhaps you are right. You do not know of my crimes of my history. You do not know what makes me hesitate when it comes to you.”

He inhaled a breath. This was a story he had rather kept to himself. Always. Secrets, he did not wish to share and regrets that he would rather keep for eons. But there you sat, hurt and confused, and he could not help the words that spilled from his mouth.

“My father was a blacksmith. He had a mighty forge, and he crafted weapons and armor and great many objects with such beauty. The craft was one he instilled upon to me, the desire to create burned within as it still does,” he watched as you relaxed, wondering if you were surprised to be getting your answers, “But I became arrogant, I wanted for things I could not have with my father and I wanted a change that my father was not ready to bring. But, my uncle was a man who created his own fortune, and he was not afraid to fight for what he wanted. I admired it, I craved it, and so I left my father and his forge.”

His tongue pressed into his teeth. How could he confess to her the evil that he had done? How could he explain to her the relationships of the divine in a way she could understand? But with a breath, he continued on, “My uncle was not all he seemed but I was so caught up in it and the idea that my vision would become a reality that I was blind to it. The things I did I do not wish to repeat, but my father and my family made it known I could never return home, even after my uncle was disposed of.”

He looked to you, and there he saw a look of empathy, one he was sure would be erased from your face if you knew who he was. It was a look that healed part of him. It was a look that all but answered the questions inside of his head and what remained of his heart. His future would be with you. His fate was tied with yours.

“The sins I have committed have condemned my soul,” He spoke softly. “Perhaps one day I will be able to speak them to you. But for now, I must prove to myself that I am worthy of you. That I could provide for you. That is my intention.”

He stood from his seat, his hand reached for yours, and he squeezed them tightly as he rested his forehead to yours. “My intention is to have you in every way. But I have yet to earn it.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you looked into his eyes. He could see as your resolve melted. He could have you now. He knew he could close the distance, and he could have you in any way he wanted. For a moment, he considered it. For a moment, he wanted to fill you with his corruption.

But then he imagined you without your light, and you would not be the woman he loved. To corrupt you was to ruin you and to remove what he loved so much of you.

Loved.

Love.

He loves you.

He loves you.

Sauron loves you.

He pushed the realization to the back of his mind. He had to ignore it. He would unpack it later, go over this emotion. It could not be love. He would not allow it.

The sound of your voice tore him from his thoughts. “What if I believed you had earned it?” The way you looked up at him, it made his cock twitch and he had to clench his fist to stop from grabbing your face and bring his lips to yours.

He closed his eyes, and his jaw clenched. “You tempt me, sweet one. But I must do this. Not only for you, but for me.” He held your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, “I will have you, and when that day comes, so will you.” He smirked softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before heading to the door.

He stopped before leaving, “Do not turn away that boy's friendship if it is what you wish.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them. You did not deserve to be sentenced to loneliness forever. However, Isildur being your friend, made it easier for him to continue his game of cat and mouse with the elf. He knew that friendship was the last thing on the boy's mind, and he was also all too happy to watch you reject his advances.

He had seen it in your eyes. There was none but him for you.

~

“Please, don't do this,” he said. He knew they were no match for him, but his anger was threatening to overtake him.

He had tried to find work as a blacksmith but was rejected. They would be beyond blessed to have him in their forge. There was no being on Middle Earth who could craft better than him. It was not arrogance but fact. He had crafted things no mortal man could dream of, and these men dared to insult him and his breeding. Insinuating that he was not good enough for the elf, they never spoke of you, but the insinuation still burned a fire in his veins. He controlled himself, however, for he saw an opportunity to take the man's crest. Of course, that led to this moment.

“Why not, low man?” The words were followed by a swift punch. “He dare speak of taking our women, and yet the lowborn woman with him seems to be taken with the uncrested son of a ship captain. How can he take ours if he can't keep his?”

He heard their laughs in agreement. They rang in his ears, and the taunting was too much.

For you, he would not kill them, but for you, he would break them.

[elvishdemigod]

About Me

Figure I'll put this here so I can meet peeps, avoid certain people, etc.

You can refer to me as Demi

I am an adult, but shall not say my age because, y'know, people be peopleing

Accounts DMing me who seemingly have intentions of being sexual (as I check all accounts before replying) will be blocked immediately.

I have memory issues, so pardon if it seems like I've repeated something, or said I didn't realize something even if I already talked about that thing.

If you're coming from the falling-apart-corpse of Wattpad, lemme now what your @ was I can know if we were chill there. My Wattpad is DemigodOfAnime And my Ao3 is also called DemigodOfAnime

Fandoms I'm in: - Fallout (Mostly 4, I've only ever been able to play that and 3) - Adventure Time - Riordanverse - Dabble a bit in Bluey - A little in Silk & Steel (The Ariana Nash series) - Ever After High and (G1) Monster High

Also a lover of vampires

My current fixation is Mouthwashing.

I love tea and learning about different types. In spring, I like to just go out and figure whether or not a plant is good to make tea with.

I'm into baking cheap and easy old fashioned recipes (I blame Dylan Hollis for this).

Also somewhat goth. I love memes. I want to say I enjoy writing fanfiction, but I actually enjoy imaging it. I scream at my blank Docs

I'm an artist so might post stuff I made occasionally

I'm gonna try remembering to tag my specific posts with #elfdemiposts or #elfdemiarts to make it easier for both others and myself to sort through, as well as #The Merc x The Cannibal for ship stuff between my OC and MacCready. But I have crap memory so... I will try though!

My art will have the logo of Elvish with the center line of E and the dot of i being a shooting star. So just in case some buttface tries to claim my shit as theirs...

[brasideios]

10 Characters/10 Fandoms/10 Tags

Thank you for thinking of me my dears @krankittoeleven & @ainulindaelynn

Lemme see. This is long, sorry about that. I’m in a rambling mood. These are just the characters that came wandering into my noodle in no order - at least, that was intended.

1. Dorothea from Middlemarch (by George Eliot). She’s probably my fave character ever. I think in a mostly abstract way, she’s come nearest to mapping out how I perceive the feminine part of myself. She starts out so so idealistic - wanting to do something to change the world, to matter, but society has its own rules that eventually beats her down, but she’s so stoic, enduring, and self-denying, that her happy ending is earned… but then the epilogue is so melancholy so was it happy? and… I don’t know. There’s something in it all that I’ve never found a better version of.

2. My brain is on D names now lol so Daphnae from AC Odyssey. The more I think about her story, as little as we’re given of it, the more I find something tragic and fated in it, and then there’s the possibility of changing that fate, or embracing it. Something, something doomed by the narrative, unless…?

3. Demosthenes from my pdfs lol listen - ancient history RPF is a fandom (apparently) so this is valid. I have been down some serious rabbit holes with this man of late - I won’t even start on why or this will be an essay. I could also have put Thucydides in this position - but I’m on D names.

4. Daria. No seriously. I loved this show when I was a teen, and she’s honestly my spirit animal. It was my nickname because I was unfortunately very much like that. I adore her deadpan, acerbic remarks and many of them will live on in my brain forevermore. I wasn’t as witty btw - but the vibes were the same.

5. Hedwyn from the vg Pyre (woot! My brain releases me from the letter D!). I’ve played it several times now, and he’s my fave. Just a sweet guy - so sweet, you always want to free him first, but then you also very much wanna keep him with you - and sometimes I’ve been selfish enough to send everyone else instead. I also like Volfred a lot but that has everything up do with the VA 🙈

6. Alfie from Peaky Blinders. I have no excuses - the character is an unhinged maniac but Tom Hardy just brought something (a twinkling eye) to the role that makes him a very likeable, back-stabbing psychopath.

7. Caesar from HBO Rome. Ciaran Hinds has been a fave of mine since Persuasion - and I liked how he acted this part / how he was written. That’s all I’ll ever say about Caesar - character or historical figure. There are at least another half a dozen characters in this series I might’ve mentioned too. I must rewatch it one of these days.

8. Gannicus from Starz Spartacus. Dustin Clare is an old time favourite from waaaay back when I was persuaded to watch McLeod’s Daughters - really bingeable but quite trashy Aussie TV - sorry to any fans - but it really is. I so enjoyed his vibes and he brings all of that to Gannicus and it just works so well for the character. Pure cheekiness, and when he does this face 🥺 chefs kiss. Side note - I will pretty regularly say some variation of ‘my cock rages on’ about the most random stuff so - thanks to this character for that gem lol.

9. Johnny Spit from the movie Gettin Square. Yeah this is left field and I seriously doubt there’s a fandom for it - but what a character - quintessentially Australian deadbeat, (played by David Wenham). There’s a courtroom scene that kills me every time. I hope he got square, for good this time.

10. Kenny from Mad Men. I don’t even know how to explain it, I just want to protect him and he doesn’t even deserve it, and he wouldn’t have thanked me for it - maybe it was just the way everyone else was just an asshole about his writing. I want to know more about the short story about the egg. I could’ve picked almost any other character from this show though. They’re all so good/bad for their own reasons.

I made it! Haha! I have no idea who to tag - I think the only people who usually join in have already been tagged - so I’ll just add a few and call it ten. Sorry for any double ups.

No pressure at all - @nemo-of-house-frye @theinkandthesea @liminalspacecowboah @cyrus-the-younger @myriath