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monzamash · 2 years ago

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the good, the bad and what could’ve been — lando norris (part one)

summary – nine years. an age gap that you didn’t know would cause so much heartache. you tell yourself that it’s fine, he tells you that he could give you the world but this was a cautionary tale of what could’ve been if you just let love win. pairing – lando norris x you (female reader) chapter rating – mature (sexual references, language, age gap/older woman) word count – 7k inspired by charlie puth's song called boy. masterlist

part one | part two | part three

Drenched rat was the only way to describe your appearance as the late evening downpour rained all over your parade. It had been one of those days that seemed to go on forever and there was nothing you wanted more than to see that last client waltz out of the studio and into those glorious Friday night shadows. Thank god it was the weekend.

"Any plans for the weekend, lovey?" Rae, your friend and closest co-worker asked from across the room, cleaning up her station for the last time this week.

You shrugged, not really having the mental capacity to even respond but she was being polite and the least you could do was answer.

"Maybe... My little brother's turning 21 and has reluctantly extended an invite my way so just loose plans at this stage. You?"

Rae went on to detail her jam-packed weekend with her husband, who like her was the life of every party. They were freshly married – only 3 months or so but they had been endgame since their college days apparently, which now seemed like a lifetime ago. Positivity exuded them wherever they went and you hated to admit that there was a pang of envy whenever they rocked up to after work drinks together or he dropped off her lunch that she'd left at home. Smitten by each other even after all these years.

All those little things festered away and created a small pit of jealousy in your stomach that you resented. You were happy, right? You had a successful career, a cute apartment and suitors 'round the block waiting for you to make up your mind and just fucking pick one of them. Anyone.

What Rae had was a once in a lifetime kind of love, you thought as the overhead lights were turned off and Patrick motioned for you to grab your shit and go home. The studio was cloaked in darkness as you squeezed through the small door, locked and loaded with an umbrella and a backpack filled with sketchbooks and diaries. And all you could do was pray that they were waterproofed enough to make the journey home.

"See ya Monday – and try to be on time, yeah?" Patrick arrogantly jabbed your way before disappearing out of sight and hopefully out of your life for the next 48 hours – or longer if you could get your shit together.

"Fucking arsehole," You muttered as Rae huddled under your umbrella, brushing your back with understanding.

"He doesn't know how to treat you because you intimidate him," She shook her long, black hair and rubbed her hands together, attempting to generate enough heat to keep warm as the thick fog rolled through the streets.

You shrugged, knowing that she was just trying to lighten the mood and send the week off with a positive – something she always liked to do for you, especially after a week filled with the same old bullshit. You were overbooked, overworked and wishing you were anywhere but here.

"It's nothing a really expensive bottle of wine can't fix," You half-joked and made sure Rae was sheltered before bidding her goodbye, "See you in hell on Monday."

Rae sent you a sullen wave, no doubt wishing she could've cheered you up just a little before going home to her seemingly perfect life. There wasn't much point trying when all attempts fell on deaf ears – nothing could pull you out of the perpetual cycle of drink, sleep, work, repeat. That was how it was and how it would always be and you had come to terms with that.

The short walk home from the studio was a miserable one, which was to be expected strolling the streets of London in the middle of December. But the glimmering lights reflected in the evening downpour and the smell of food cooking – sizzling kebab if you had to really hone in on the smokey, chargrilled scent wafting through the cool air, made it a little more bearable than usual. That didn't mean much considering nothing had brought you joy for months. Not even the discreetly packaged vibrator your best friend had left in a box on your doorstep with a sticky note saying, 'you deserve it'. Tragic.

You grumbled quietly to yourself, noticing a nosy neighbour standing beside the entrance to your building, waiting for either you or a cab. It was always hard to tell. She was an older lady who loved to pry and nothing gave her more pleasure than to bundle people up and have a chat. She was harmless and meant well but the last thing you needed tonight was an ambush.

"Sorry Effie, I have to get upstairs and get out of these wet clothes."

You got in first with the excuse and she simply smiled and waved. Effie knew the trials and tribulations of a London winter since she'd lived here all her life, simply wishing you a wonderful weekend and making you feel bad for brushing her off.

The apartment was cold and dimly lit as you flicked on the kitchen light and chucked your backpack down on the couch with a huff. You hoped it would feel better being home after a long day but you knew you had no food, no company and a cold bed waiting for you upstairs. All things that made it impossible to look on the bright side.

"Fuck. My. Life," You groaned into the fridge and slammed it shut, internally wishing past you had organised something for dinner.

You did as you told Effie and went upstairs to change into something comfier and less wet – a tracksuit set, combat boots and new beanie to cover the bird’s nest you called a "hairstyle". The floor length raincoat you should've taken to work was waiting for you at the front door – almost taunting your never-ending brain fades. You scooped up your keys and scarf and headed downstairs again, hoping that Effie had left to wherever the hell she was going on a Friday night. The fact a 70 year old woman had more of a social life should've worried you more but you were too tired to care.

By now it was a quarter to midnight and there was really only one option to get anything resembling food this late since the closest Waitrose was a 10-minute walk away. You had already burnt your bridge there by rocking up at closing time, forcing them to keep the tills open so you could buy emergency ice cream. You couldn't show your face there ever again.

The bright blue and red lights spilling into the puddles that were still filling from the rain was a welcomed sight. It was the only sign of life for miles, besides yourself and you were grateful having a 24-hour Tesco Express right around the corner. Capitalist convenience was in working order. The florescent lights were not as pleasant as you walked in and triggered the bell hanging over the automatic doors.

A familiar voice sang out your name, greeting you from behind the counter with a half-arsed smile adorning his kind face. You grabbed a basket and gave him a wave.

"Hi Kev," You meekly returned and continued on your way down the aisles, hoping to find a few things that would tide your hunger over until the sun came up.

You stopped at the confectionary section and perused for a second, debating whether a sugar hit this late in the night was the responsible adult thing to do. Your mum's authoritarian voice rang in your ears as you reached out and grabbed a bag of skittles, smiling to yourself as you dropped them into the basket. That smile had been the first of the day, maybe even of the week and it felt nice for a split second to feel the weight lifting from your shoulders.

"Late dinner?"

The voice came from a few steps away and belonged to a smirking stranger. He was taller than you, even hunched over the bargain bin he was rifling through. His hair was curly and sopping wet and it was hard to tell if it was just dark because of that or naturally, but your confused gaze connected with his and the smile that had just been on your cold face had disappeared.

"Excuse me?" You quietly asked and stared into his icy blue eyes, prepared to strike with a snarky comeback or two.

"The skittles," He pointed to your basket, "That used to be my evening meal a few years ago until I realised I was an addict and had to get help."

The kind smile on his face softened your stern expression, "Oh, right... Well I'm glad you found the help you needed. Maybe I should too," You tried to muster a joke and he laughed – loudly.

Nobody laughed like that at anything you had said lately because most of the things you did say were either dripping in sarcasm or laced with self-deprecation. Both weren't cute or endearing the longer it became apart of your personality. But he liked your joke enough to give you a boost of serotonin and your smile was back –even brighter than before.

"I did but you should definitely level it out with something else – maybe something chocolaty," The mystery man nodded towards the rows of chocolate bars lining the racks in front of you, now openly encouraging your bad habit.

His accent was different to what you were used to – British, kind of upperclass, kind of not but laced with something else and you were intrigued. Maybe even a little mesmerised by the way he stood his ground, making small talk to a complete stranger in the middle of the night. He looked cozy too, tracksuit clad like you, giving zero fucks about how you fashionable you looked, or really what anyone thought. Comfy, friendly, warm – he was different.

"Great suggestion but I think this will do enough damage," You replied, making him chuckle again.

"I'll live my junk food fantasies vicariously through you," He said before he turning on his heel and making his way to the register at the front of the store, humming to himself.

You could hear his boisterous yet kind voice as you grabbed a pre-mixed salad and lined up behind him, "Thanks man – have a great night," He said to Kevin who no doubt appreciated a friendly face this late in the night.

The stranger sent one lasting smile your way and said 'hope you do too' before he exited with his bag of almonds and a coconut water. Simple and nutritious – which was more than you could say about your late night dinner choices.

With a genuine pep in your step and your items safely tucked under your arm, you left the shop feeling a lot lighter than you did when you walked in and that was something unexpected. A polite run in with a stranger was an unlikely mood-booster but you were clinging to it while it lasted. That was until you noticed a shadowy figure walking up ahead as you rounded into your street and slowed down, but the person heard your footsteps loud and clear.

Internally cursing yourself for wearing the loudest boots you owned, you relaxed a little when you realised it was the man from the store, who had thrown a thick puffer jacket over his orange hoodie. There was a short pause as your eyes met and a puzzled look flashed across his flushed face, wind blown.

"I'm not stalking you," You said in hopes of easing his confusion, "I live here."

You pointed to the large wooden door that led into your apartment building as you tugged your jacket closed, trying to trap any warmth left in your body. The man turned around and looked to where you were pointing before spinning back with a soft chuckle, "And I live there."

He gestured to the building across the small side street you were both standing in, looking as bewildered as each other. It was your turn to laugh as the penny dropped – you were neighbours.

"Small world," You humorously replied and took a few long strides past him. As cute as he was in the darkness, you were frozen solid and needed to thaw out as soon as possible otherwise you'd be asking him for a ride to the hospital.

"See you around?" He asked more as a question than a statement and you nodded with a small, chattering smile.

"Yep," You simply replied and buzzed yourself into the building, shivering beneath all the layers you'd put on before leaving. Even though you were smiling through gritted teeth and feeling warmth from the fleeting conversation, the several layers of clothing and a genuine smile from a stranger weren't even enough to keep you from hypothermia. You couldn't wait to get upstairs and sit by the heater, wishing you were in some quaint country cabin far, far away.

"Yep... Just keep the peel on until tonight and then wash your thigh with that soap I gave you... Yep, warm water is perfect and make sure you put on a thin layer of cream after that... It’ll probably be a little red but I promise you’ll heal perfectly so don't stress," You reassured your client who had gotten her first ever tattoo yesterday.

Your work was rewarding in so many ways but the pressure of working for someone else came with it's unique challenges. There was nothing you wanted more than to open up your own little tattoo shop with Rae and live your life the way you wanted to – not the way some washed up muso envisioned. With a few more words of encouragement, you managed to reassure your client and begin your Saturday, doing a whole lot of nothing.

The sun was shining at least and you figured you might as well enjoy some of what the day had to offer before your night out later this evening. Your brother had given you strict instructions on when and where his birthday drinks were going to be and you knew then that making an appearance at this thing was now a non-negotiable. You couldn't be seen as the flaky older sister again and you didn't want to let him down – that relationship was one of very few that were sacred in your life and turning 21 was a big deal.

It wasn't long until you were strapping on your heels, sticking a couple more bobby pins into the messy bun you were trying to tame and trotting down the staircase, ready to mingle. You had been single now for much longer than you would've liked and although there had been moments of weakness, nothing had amounted to more than a shitty one-night stand. And it was infuriating.

A complete exodus from dating apps hadn't helped your cause but you couldn't handle another ghosting, especially not from some grubby dude who had no right being anywhere near you. You had standards that were high and there was nothing wrong with that – until a couple of gin and tonics are consumed and you forget you were even human. All of a sudden your standards have left the building along with you and said grubby dude.

"Hey!" A voice echoed from across the street as you closed the building door and glanced around with furrowed brows, wondering who was calling out your way.

That's when you spotted him – the man from last night who you couldn't stop thinking about, even if you didn't want to admit it. He looked different in the daylight and definitely lived up to parts of the vision you'd conjured after your random meeting in the street. The curls were there, as were the light blue eyes that caught your attention but he was younger than you first thought, a lot younger which was an important detail that you'd missed in the darkness. One you wished you had of noticed before summoning those late-night thoughts.

"Hi again," You greeted with crossed arms, trying to cover the somewhat revealing dress underneath your jacket.

You quickly clocked his athleisure wear and concluded that he was probably going to the gym with his friend who was trailing closely behind him. They were both full of smiles as you crossed the road, figuring you had to wait for your cab anyway so you might as well have company.

"I realised after I went in last night that I didn't even introduce myself – I'm Lando," He said and held out his hand for you to shake.

"Well in our defence it was super late and my brain was definitely mush," You replied and grasped his warm hand, introducing yourself.

You'd be lying if you didn't say there was a small, flash of something resembling a spark as you shook his hand. A little buzz of excitement that in the moment you chalked up to being super alone and outrageously horny. Desperate didn't even begin to describe the mess that was your sex life and with that in mind, your snap reaction of having undeniable chemistry with him was probably not accurate. But whether it was a figment of your imagination or not, it was still a valid feeling and you were going to have to bury that shit.

"Nice to put a name to the face," Lando smiled and turned to his friend who up until this point had remained quiet, "This is my father, Carlos."

You knew he was pulling your chain, or at least you hoped he. His friend shoved him in the side, fervently shaking his head, "Clearly not his father but Hola," He sheepishly greeted, voice laced with a thick accent and a smile that would make any sane individual with two eyes and a pulse melt in place.

"I was gonna say that's a little suss but I don't judge without context."

You glanced between the two men with a smirk and held your hands up – making them both chuckle quietly. They also eyed each other, a silent nod following that you couldn’t quite decipher. It was fleeting, almost so much so that if you blinked, you would’ve missed it. Maybe you wished you did because now you were cursing yourself for not taking that body language class at university all those years ago. Pointless and too bohemian for your liking, you thought at the time but now, standing on a rain gutter, you regretted passing such haste judgment. Their unspoken conversation infuriated you internally as Lando looked back at you with an awkward smile.

"Nah, I'm an appropriately aged guy and definitely not a child..." Lando trailed off and clumsily scratched the back of his neck, "Don't know what I mean by that but um yeah, not his son obviously." He was fumbling, frantically trying to change the subject but instead looked down at his dirty white sneakers with a grimace, internally face-palming himself.

You bit down on your mauve coloured bottom lip and tried to conceal the smile threatening to reveal itself. He was cute. Awkward? Absolutely. A little dorky with his oversized hoodie and boyish grin? You could say that but he was still kind of cute nonetheless.

"Obviously," You replied sweetly and noticed your uber pulling up outside your apartment building, ready to take you somewhere you could drown your shitty week away.

"Nice to officially meet you and your dad – see you around." You winked and maintained eye contact with Lando before strutting across the street and jumping in your uber.

You wondered what they said once you were gone and whether you looked better in broad daylight or in the shadows of the night. Your intrusive thoughts were quickly pushed aside when you realised he was more than likely taken, or not interested. Or more importantly, way too young for you to even be having these thoughts about. The good ones never were right for you – there was always something. It was like a curse that you'd picked up somewhere along the way – a curse that forbid any man with a job and their shit together to look your way twice. You were invisible to those men lately and you couldn't help but blame yourself.

With a mission to find someone to take your mind off those negative thoughts, you ordered your first drink, and then your second drink and you guessed it – your third and fourth in quick succession. You swore the dance floor was falling out from under your feet as your brother and his girlfriend scooped you up and called you an Uber. The night was over before it had even begun and you knew you'd be filled with regret in the morning. But right now, you were just lucky to be standing upright.

"Will you be okay?" Your brother asked as you flopped into the back of the car, giggling like a schoolgirl.

"Pfft, I'm a professional drinker," You hiccupped and covered your mouth, "I'll be fine – driver, take me home!"

The uber driver mumbled something under his breath and punched in the address your brother had given him, no doubt sick of trashed girls on the brink of vomiting, flailing around in the back of his car. You were a mess and attempting to cover that up by drinking wasn't doing you any favours. In fact you knew it was only going to make you feel worse – especially tomorrow.

"Alright, you're home," The driver said loudly, waking you up from the quick nap you decided to take in the backseat, blaming the warmth for lulling you to sleep.

"Make sure you grab everything."

A scoff slipped past your lips as you gathered your bags, "I know what I'm doing," You retorted, not realising that you were probably slurring every word and most definitely making absolutely no sense to someone who was stone-cold sober.

You closed the door and nearly fell forward over the gutter doing so, trying to balance in the heels that had caused your feet to go numb. The black car drove off and you waved like a maniac, thinking you were hilarious before rummaging through your handbag for your keys. You could barely see through blurry vision and the cold air made every inch of you exposed skin tingle as you stumbled into the brick wall of your building. At least you were home.

"Fuck," You hissed to yourself as you dug through the bag and saw nothing but a dark void. It was an impossible task without the flash on your phone to light the way.

The sound of a car door slamming shut across the street startled you out of your intoxicated rage, causing a few items to tumble from your handbag, including your phone. And there he was again, dressed smartly this time – the mystery man who's name you couldn't quite remember in your drunken state. You turned away and frantically started looking for your keys again, hoping to God he wouldn't come over and see you looking like a complete mess. Famous last thoughts.

"Early night?" His innocent question echoed through the empty street and you closed your eyes, knowing there was no way you could avoid him now – especially since you were locked out of your apartment with nowhere to go.

You bashfully looked up through your fake eyelashes and sent him a lazy smile, "Yeah, didn't quite uhm, end up – end up the way I expected," You managed to stammer through your sentence, hoping he could understand some of what you were saying.

"Well we've all been there... Do you need help?" He asked and looked down at your hands that were full, "Because you've dropped a couple of things in the gutter..."

You looked down and realised you'd dropped not only your phone but also your purse, a powder compact and a small sketchbook, "I'm – I'm a real fucking idiot and I've lost my keys... I think... I think I left them in the uber," You confessed and conceded the obvious. You were locked out of your apartment in the dead of an English winter, dressed like an expensive escort. A disaster.

"Ah, crap. Have you given anyone a spare key?"

The glimmer in his eyes as you looked up from your bag made your heart skip a little in your chest. He was handsome, the curls you’d clocked falling onto his forehead as he stood up, and you couldn't stop staring until he snapped you out of your trance, your name falling effortlessly from his chapped, shivering lips, breath causing a thick fog to form in front of your confused face.

"Oh... uhm, my – my friend... ah shit what's her name?... God, what is wrong with me," You grumbled, breath mingling in the cold air as you rubbed your face, "What's your name again?"

"It's Lando," He kindly replied with a soft chuckle and tucked away the objects he’d picked up for you, knowing there was no way you would be able to do any of that in the state you were in.

“Lando,” You repeated quietly, “Like the star trek dude? I’ve never seen it but… that’s right, right?” Even you could hear your incoherent mumblings, making yourself physically cringe because he was too polite to correct you, “Just stop talking, idiot.” You whispered to yourself, or at least you hoped he didn’t hear you. He did.

"Definitely named after the dude in star trek,” He chuckled softly and scanned the empty street, wondering what the hell he was going to do with a drunk, helpless woman.

He couldn’t leave her like this but he also had plans – a blind date that had been sprung on him and set up by Carlos at the gym. Sure, he had been regretting saying yes to it but he hadn’t been out on a date in months, maybe longer and he was sick of the late night hook up that had become too much of a regular occurrence, though completely random. He wanted more than that, something worth his precious time and he didn’t need the drama that came from the one-night stands. It didn’t even matter how good it felt in the moment. Occupied sheets and empty promises didn’t keep him warm at night. It made him physically ill.

But now he was faced with what was obviously a challenge – a beautiful mess of a rescue mission.

“Look, why don't you come in out of the cold and we'll call your nameless friend who has your spare key?"

Your eyebrows furrowed and you blinked a couple of times before looking at the locked door beside you, "I can't go inside because *hiccup* I've lost my keys... I think I left 'em in that uber... But he was just here, I swear..."

Lando stifled a giggle again and slowly nodded, "Yep, we've been over that but I meant my place. Not sure if you remember this but I live over the street from you... Right there," He gestured towards the opposite building and you rolled your eyes.

"I know that, buddy," You sarcastically retorted, "I'm not stupid." You were slurring up a storm and he simply smiled in response – his patience was commendable.

"My apologies... But I'm freezing and you're turning blue so come on – I promise I'm not a weirdo," He held out his hand and nodded towards his building, blue eyes glimmering under the dim streetlight.

You sighed and linked your icy fingers with his, "You better not be a weirdo..." You rasped and let him guide you over the road, silently enjoying clinging to his muscular bicep and watching his ringlets blowing in the wind.

As you let your entire body weight brush against his arm, you felt something sharp digging into your ribs, a foreign object that you swore wasn’t there before. You stopped in your tracks, leaving Lando confused as you reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out a set of keys – "Wow."

“Oops,” You grimaced, goofy grin instantly sweeping across your face when Lando looked down at your hands, chuckling at you as you stumbled out of his grasp, “Guess you don’t get to murder me tonight, Lawrence!”

“Not even close,” He shuffled back with a smile and observed your every move, ready to swoop in if you did stack it in the middle of the street. You were like a baby giraffe, clomping across the damp asphalt in your heels, giggling to nobody. “You know where I live if you need anything.”

“Yeah, yeah!” You shouted back, trying your best to smoothly exit the situation and from your perspective, you were killing it.

But reality was a cruel, unforgiving beast – and you were failing miserably to play it cool as you toppled through the building door and nearly face-planted into the couch nestled in the foyer. It was a miracle that you didn’t fall, Lando thought as a smitten grin surfaced on his frost bitten cheeks while he walked upstairs to his own apartment, drafting the dreaded ‘sorry I can’t make it' text but feeling no regret at all.

You were all he could think about for the rest of the night – a beautiful hurricane rolling through his life for the briefest of moments, a burst of long wavy hair, trench coat fluttering in the wind and for a second he wished, deep down that maybe you had lost your keys. As quickly as that thought crossed his mind, he shooed it away – knowing already that you were out of his league, hell, you weren’t even playing the same sport. What the fuck was he going to do if he did get you up here, away from civilisation where it was just the two of you? God help him.

From a distance, you seemed sophisticated, witty, chaotic fun – all traits that had him staring at his ceiling, soundlessly wondering when he would see you again. Soon, he hoped.

“Six tequila shots, Jen! We’re celebrating!” You yelled over the loud EDM music blasting through the club, the smell of testosterone and Acqua di gio aftershave mixing in the already thick, humid air.

“Of course, girl! What are we celebrating?” The bartender asked smiling from ear to ear. Jen, who by day was a barista at your local café, had become one of your closest friends in the city and was always cheering you on from the sidelines while serving you the best coffee in London.

“I quit my soul sucking job and told Patrick to shove it up his arse!” You shouted, waving your arms in the air along with your best friend who had insisted on helping commemorate this magnificent occasion, “I finally bit the bullet and did it, Jen and I feel bloody amazing!”

Jen leaned over and grasped your forearms, “Super proud of you, sis. ‘Bout fucking time you did something for yourself.”

You couldn’t argue with that. She was right.

It had been a week since your drunken run in with your neighbour. Humiliating was the first thought that came to mind, head thumping for days following. You hadn’t seen him since that ill-fated night and there was a small part of you that searched for him whenever you left for work, eyes quickly glancing across the street in case fate was working your favour and he was leaving too. Happenstance.

But you were never that lucky and the week had gone from bad to worse at work – your boss had finally lost the plot and you were done, once and for all. No amount of love for your craft was worth being berated by a self-righteous, egotistical arsehole. He’d pushed too far and you were out of there, rucksack haphazardly slung across your shoulders and a smile bigger than the moon on your face. You were free – until the reality of unemployment hit.

London was your home and it had been for the better part of a decade, working at different tattoo parlours, building a solid client list along the way until you’d reached the top and now, finally opting out of the cruel, unrelenting torture that was working under Patrick. Life was too short and your thirties were well underway, that biological clock forever ticking while everyone else seemed to be settling down, buying that dream house with a picket fence. That wasn’t for me, you told yourself so you could sleep at night.

So much of your life was based around career goals and aspiration, so many of those things had been ticked off before your thirtieth birthday last year and it left you wondering where the time had gone. Your twenties had whizzed by faster than your teens and it made that hole in your heart, where you presumed personal goals were supposed to live feel emptier than ever. Especially when those friends you’d stayed in touch with since high school were having their second or third baby, getting married, some for the second time. Where had the time gone?

It was passing you by and even though you gave yourself that pep talk late at night, looking up at your ceiling, questioning whether you would ever find someone to share it all with or if you even wanted that, time continued to tick. Fleeting memories, first dates, and awkward one-night stands – they were all you really had in terms of a love life. The term ‘love life’ was probably over reaching, because if it was a life, it was fucking tragic.

But it was all you had. That and a kickass group of friends who had your back, setting you up with their husbands cute friends, until they turned out to be misogynistic arseholes, or worse – secretly married. In a population of 9 million, you would think there would be a plethora of kind, sweet men but you couldn’t seem to find one. And that led to the one question that did keep you up at night – maybe it’s me. Am I the problem?

“Babe, you’ve got it all. A gorgeous apartment, a beautiful puppy, you’re going to accomplish the dream you’ve had since you were 14 years old! There’s so much going for you that having a guy means nothing. And fuck men, honestly. I’m so glad we’re out here doing this because I’m one wet towel away from killing Jamie,” You couldn’t help but laugh at your best friend, Winnie.

“I’m serious!” And she was, the deadpan expression never faltering as you put your hands up for protection.

“I got you, I’m with you,” You defended, “I guess I just see everything else falling into place, even though my career path is a little murky right now but I’ll work that out… Love is the one thing I can’t figure out. What am I doing wrong?”

Winnie laughed and gripped your shoulder endearingly, “You are hot, like super hot. They are the issue, not you! Okay…” She trailed off and pushed another shot in your direction.

“Tonight’s the night. We are going to find you a cutie, someone fun. And it might just be a meaningless fuck like the rest but let’s deal with that in the morning,” She hiccupped, already tipsy from the shots.

You smiled and sweetly nodded, knowing that her intentions were coming from a good place but stomaching empty promises had become a regular occurrence. You’d lost count of how many guys she’d set you up with or found through dating apps when you went to the bathroom and came back to find her scrolling through, squealing every time a guy she liked matched with you. It all just felt pointless – and a little desperate. Okay, maybe a lot desperate but you appreciated her trying to help.

So you let her pull you through the crowd to where the rest of your friends were standing, all pouring shots down their throats and getting “wild”. A group of women in their early 30s, most with a kid or two or hadn’t been out to a club in months, some years. It was carnage but you appreciated them all coming out to celebrate you. It gave you something to hold onto even when the rest of your personal life was slowly sinking like the titanic, no safety boat in sight.

Until – you heard your name, loud and clearly from behind your friend. The voice was familiar, oddly so, like you’d imagined it somewhere along the lines and it wasn’t real. Lando’s face bobbed up from the side, smile adorning his sweet face, enthusiastic wave quickly followed and you returned it, the same smile too. His cheeks were flushed and eyes slightly bloodshot. You could tell he was tipsy.

“Hello stranger,” You greeted shyly, not knowing how to approach and apologise for the shameful display you showed last weekend. But before you could even get another word out, you were being pulled into a hug, a loose, one arm kind of hug but a hug nonetheless.

He was warm, perspiring ever so slightly as your cheek brushed across his damp neck, no doubt caused by the high humidity inside the club that was pumping. The lingering scent of Dior Sauvage mixed with a woody scented shampoo were notes you picked up on as your arm slipped around his waist, gently giving him a squeeze before you pulled away, half-heartedly.

“Glad you’re alive and well!” Lando shouted over the loud music, still beaming as you leaned in a little closer, “I am so, so, so sorry about last weekend… I’m not usually – well, no sometimes I get a little too heavy handed with my good friends gin and tonic but that was next level and not at all who I am typically… Just yeah, super embarrassed!”

Lando nodded empathetically, “Don’t be. You were, and I mean this is the nicest possible way; you were the most entertaining part of my week… So you’re drinking gin and tonic, yeah?” He asked, glancing down at your empty hands before turning to the bartender and hailing him over.

“Just a gin and tonic and a corona, please mate.”

Lando swivelled back your way, still grinning while he took in your surroundings, “Girls night out?” He asked, curious as to why you were out with your friends.

“Sort of,” You began to explain before graciously accepting the drink he had bought you, “I quit my crappy job and they insisted we celebrate – but between you and me, I think they’re just bored of their husbands and kids." Your whisper made him laugh, that serotonin boost lighting up your senses again, just like it did a week ago when you first met. Sparks flying.

“Makes sense," He nodded with a furrowed brow, looking serious before cracking a smile, "Congrats on quitting your shitty job, I’m sure your boyfriends here celebrating with you too, no?”

There was a glint in his eyes as they scanned the room and landed back on yours, eagerly awaiting your response. You didn’t give it to him straight away, letting him stew on that question for a couple seconds longer than humane, until he took a sip of his beer, finding something to occupy himself with while you left him there hanging.

“No boyfriend.”

Your answer was simple – to the point and Lando appreciated that as he let go of the deep sigh rattling around in his chest. Was he being nosy? Absolutely but he was also hedging his bets, knowing that if you did have a boyfriend and you looked like that then he wouldn’t have his two front teeth by the end of the night. He had to know for certain before he bought you another drink. And definitely before he asked you to dance.

There was barely a millimetre, if that between your body and his, only losing the warmth of his embrace when he twirled you around, giggling like teenagers who were superficially falling in love for the night. Your friend was the one who broke up the party, insisting that she said goodbye to you before leaving to relieve her babysitter.

“Everyone’s gone home and I think I’m gonna head off too,” She yelled before tugging you closer, “But have fun with your boy toy,” She whispered into your ear, her smirk telling as you pulled back and rolled your eyes.

“Stop it. It’s just a bit of harmless dancing,” You scoffed in return, but she’d known you since you were knee high to a grasshopper, practically experiencing all of life’s milestones in tandem – until she found her prince charming and had his babies, a betrayal like no other.

“Sure, sure,” She winked because she knew that there was a 90% chance that you wouldn’t make it home, or if you did, it was only because your place was closer than his, “Call me tomorrow morning when you get home.”

The cheek, you thought as she strutted off into the crowd, disappearing into the stormy London night. You were at a crossroads, standing in the middle of the club and searching the room for Lando. He’d given you space to speak with your friend, a subtle sign of respect while he rushed to the bathroom and splashed his face with water.

Get it together, he muttered, cursing his rosy cheeks and uncooperative curls, the bundle of ringlets gathering like a nest on the crown of his head. He didn’t want to look shabby in front of you, especially since he'd identified your expensive perfume and had noticed the red-bottomed heels adorning your feet. You were the uptown girl they were talking about in that song, the tune now on the tip of his tongue as he pushed through the bathroom door, whistling along to the silent song stuck in his head.

And there you were, lost in the crowd, searching. He wondered for a second whether you were looking for him or if your friend had just come over to tell you something and she was coming back. But when your eyes met, you smiled big. Grinning and relieved to see those bright blue eyes drawing you in from across the room, a familiar face to ease your nerves. You glided to him like a magnet magically pulling you both to the halfway point, hands immediately reaching, needy to feel the others touch again.

Winnie’s words rang in your ears, so sure of herself and what she knew about you. Your bad habits. You wanted to spite her and bid Lando farewell but when you watched his tongue swiping across his pouty bottom lip and that boyish smile tug at the corners of his mouth again, you were done for – hook, line and sinker.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

click here for part two

a/n – i really hope you enjoyed the 7k word introduction *facepalm* to this mini-series – it got away from me a little bit but i'm excited about exploring long form writing on tumblr so follow for updates and lmk what you think so far!

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #lando norris one shot #formula 1 one shot #f1 #f1 x reader #monzamashmasterlist #what could've been fic #monzamash #lando norris x you

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writing-house-of-m · 1 year ago

Text

just like You.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Endgame canon

Word count: 431

Summary: You tell Natasha about your daughter

A/N: I don't really know how I feel about this, either way I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think

She reminds me of you every day

When the morning light bounces off her red hair

How she breaks eye contact as she laughs

The lines between her brows when she is concentrating

I wish you got to see the young woman that she is turning into

I tell her about you to make sure she never forgets

You look down

Moving around some dry twigs with your foot then back at the marble stone

I tell her about how I see you

In the final hours of the day when the sunlight seeps through the trees

Soft breezes through the long grass in the field out back during our late afternoon walks

The old family photos Yelena gave us on one of her visits

She wants to dye her hair blue now

Tears well in your eyes

You clear your throat to get rid of the lump forming

I still hate the sacrifice you had to make to bring us back

Five years

Alone

I can't imagine how you must have felt without us

I know I wouldn't have survived

But you did

You were always the stronger one out of the two of us

Then you paid the ultimate price

For us

For all of us

I will always love you

We will always love you

You spin the ring you still wear on your finger

It is the only thing you have left of her from something that feels like it was a lifetime ago

Sometimes I don't know what to do with it all - This love that was meant for you

It overwhelms me when I read the letters you left for us

The letters that serve as an extra reminder you were real

That your love for us was real

The biggest reminder of our love is our daughter

You visit this empty grave at least once a week

'Daughter, Sister, Avenger'

The only word missing is 'Mother'

No one knew of your daughter

It is safer this way

God, she reminds me of you everyday

You scoff at the recent memories you have of her as well as the ones with your wife

A tear escapes your eye but you wipe it away just as quick as it falls

You recount the images playing in your head with a smile on your face

Midnight cravings for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches

Her sense of humor

The green in her eyes that shine when they fill with mischief

And that stupid smirk

Your stupid smirk

You would have loved her, Natasha

She is just like You.

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xxshewritesinblacknwhitexx · 2 years ago

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Off The Market

Chris Evans x Black Wife!Reader

WARNINGS: tipsy!Chris, mild fluff, flirting, nosy tv interviewer, very mild nudity

AUTHOR’s NOTE: An oldie from my old page, edited and brought over here. Also regardless if my fic has no smut or dark mentions, all of my work is still 18+. This isn’t apart of the Chris x Wife series I was thinking about. Just a stand alone one-shot.

BETA’d: @titty-teetee

Chris Evans was standing dressed in his best on the red carpet for the premiere of the final Avengers movie, rightfully titled, Avengers: Endgame. Tonight was going to be a little bittersweet, as this would be the last time that all six original members of the Avengers would walk the red carpet together. It was finally time for the torch, or in his case, Captain’s shield, to be passed on.

This was also Chris’ very first red carpet appearance since the two of you tied the knot a little over a couple of months ago.

Of course news had been buzzing for weeks about your very secret nuptials. People were questioning if it happened or if it didn’t happen. Paparazzi scrambled for days outside of your home in Los Angeles, trying to get a small glimpse to see if the two of you were wearing your rings. But they’d come up with nothing. Especially, since the two of you had fully relocated to his hometown in Boston.

But your wedding definitely happened, and it was definitely a secret. Your wedding was so secret, in fact, that your small group of guests, who thought they were arriving to celebrate your engagement, got the surprise of a lifetime when you showed up in your beautiful wedding dress, while you and Chris exchanged vows moments later.

Both yourself and Chris, much like most of your relationship and engagement, wanted to keep this to yourselves for a while. You just wanted to enjoy being husband and wife before the press found out and started hounding you with future plans of starting a family, which of course, you and Chris were definitely excited to be practicing. Especially the horndog that was your husband.

The two of you had a date set for when you were going to announce that you had gotten hitched, but that didn’t stop the vultures from their prying.

Chris, who smiled coyly at the flashing photographers, gave a small wave and a curt nod. He was nervous, and his anxiety was on a high level, which he tried to calm with shots of whiskey earlier with his co-stars, Jeremy Renner and Mark Ruffalo. But with every scream of the paparazzi and the surrounding fans, his nerves seemed to grow a little bit more intense.

Chris continued to make his way down the carpet, saying his hellos to his other fellow cast mates, while sharing jokes with his buddies, Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan. Luckily, most of the interviewers kept things professional in their questioning, only asking about the film and his future projects. Even asking him to give shout outs to other countries.

His last stop on the interview trail was with Nancy O’Dell from Entertainment Tonight. Now Chris has known Nancy for quite some time, as she’s interviewed him plenty of times in the past, but he also knew she was never too shy to get personal with him. And that scared the living hell out of him.

“Here we have Chris Evans, ladies and gentlemen,” the beautiful, older blonde celebrity anchor announced as Chris stepped up to his spot next to her. They quickly exchanged a casual hug. “How are you feeling tonight? You look amazing.”

Chris cleared his throat, nervously running a hand across his tie. “Thank you. I’m feeling pretty good. How are you?”

“I’m great, thank you.” She smiled, leaning into him. She was also a little too clingy with him at times, you’ve clearly noticed. But that was usually when you weren’t on his arm. Like tonight. “So, Chris, this is it. Final Avengers movie for you all. How did it feel to put that Cap suit back on for the last time?”

“A little tight.” Chris joked, causing Nancy to giggle softly. “No, it was amazing. Being on set with some of my best friends made for such a fun, great experience— a little bittersweet though since it’s the last time a lot of us will be in the same room with each other. But I feel we all did it justice. 10 years is a long time to be doing this, and I’m very proud of what we’ve accomplished in the end.”

“I can definitely see lots of emotions running high with everyone. Especially on this night.” Nancy stated, and Chris nodded in agreement. “Aside from the movie premiere here tonight, I really have to ask: Where is your better half? I’m surprised she’s not here with you tonight.”

Chris chuckled softly, again, running a hand down his tie. “You know, she really wanted to be here, but her schedule is just as crazy as mine. If not more, but, she’s definitely here with me in Spirit.” He gave the nosy news anchor a smile.

Well, wherever she is, we are sending her the best.” Nancy replied, reaching out to throw an arm around Chris’ shoulder. “And speaking of your better half, I feel like there are just a few things we need to get cleared up. Maybe some of those rumors you want to address?”

This time Chris let out a nervous chuckle. He knew exactly where this was headed. “That depends on what rumors you are referring to?”

“Well,” Nancy paused for dramatic effect, “is Chris Evans officially off the market?”

Yep, she went there.

“Oh,” Chris immediately jerked his head back, as he finally started to feel that whiskey warming his system. “Oh,” he repeated over and over.

“I mean, is it true?” Nancy questioned him, desperately trying to see if she could get a glimpse of the wedding ring on his left hand. Of course, it wasn’t there. You made sure of that.

“We’re not doing that.” Chris shook a finger at her, laughing.

“Why not? I know everybody at home,” Nancy pointed to the camera, “would love to know if our favorite superhero, here, finally got his happy ending.”

“Sh,” Chris shushed her, leaning to stroke her microphone. “Sh, sh, shhh.”

“He’s petting my mic.” Nancy, again, turned to the camera, giggling. She knew that she wasn’t going to get her way tonight. “So, is this your way of leaving this one alone?”

Chris looked back up at her and gave a nonchalant shrug. “I mean, you will know when it happens. But we both are happy where we are right now.”

“And that’s all that matters?” Nancy questioned, and Chris just nodded, stuffing his hands back in the pocket of his pants. “Well, we appreciate the honesty, Chris. Good luck tonight.”

“Thank you.” Chris smiled, giving her one last hug and walking away.

The moment Chris was out of the way of the paparazzi, he immediately pulled out his phone from his pocket and sent you a quick text.

dodged that bullet

His phone buzzed only seconds later with your response.

Wifey: I’m guessing you got asked & it was by Nancy wasn’t it?

yep & yep

Wifey: well it’s a good thing I have your ring with me

Chris smiled to himself, adamantly typing on his phone.

Yeah I’m going to need that back

Wifey: you’ll get it back soon

you’ll just have to take it off of me first

Chris’ phone buzzed a third time. But it wasn’t a typed response like he’d been expecting. It was a picture of you. You were currently wearing his platinum, engraved wedding ring on a necklace, secured safely around your neck, dressed in a white lace push-up bra. The barely there material stood out amongst the softness of your gorgeous brown skin.

Chris sucked in a deep breath, staring down at the image in front of him. Goddamn it, he missed the fuck out of you. He quickly started typing again.

Mrs. Evans you’re driving me fucking crazy here

Wifey: well Mr. Evans my husband just abandoned me

what’s a girl to do by herself in this big, empty house

Before Chris started typing again, the three dotted bubble —as if you were still typing— appeared on his screen. Within seconds, another photo of you showed up. This time it was a matching lace thong you were wearing.

Fuck this premiere

I’m getting on a plane

And coming home right now.

Wifey: I’ll be waiting

Chris sighed heavily, stuffing the phone back in his pocket, and immediately tried to find the nearest exit. He needed to get home to you. And he needed to get home now.

#chris evans x black!reader #chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x poc!reader

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rheian · 5 months ago

Text

SIRIUS BLACK

Fanfiction that focuses on Sirius Black. Most of these are not shippy focused fics but some of them are, sorry! click read more to see the list! ( dividers credit )

Fuck J.K Rowling. Bigotry against trans people will NOT be allowed !!

Please note to check the tags on the actual fics aswell for extra content warnings. Italics are tags / thoughts that are mine.

There are some fics that people who don't have an ao3 account may not be able to read due to it being locked, sorry.

I stayed up till 3 AM to make this... who knew making these could be so time consuming?

Edges by aschicca ( E | 14k words | three-shot )

Sirius could go downstairs. If Remus had been alone, if he’d been the one bringing dinner and wanting to eat it with Sirius, he probably would have. Unfortunately, Tonks was there too and there was nothing Sirius wanted less than to sit through another evening when he’d have to be forced to look on as his cousin flirted with Remus; and the love of Sirius’s life flirted back.

Sirius is having a hard time living as a recluse in Grimmauld Place and dealing with the issues his time in Azkaban left him with. Plus, his cousin keeps flirting with Remus and jealousy is driving him mad. Well, madder…

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin || Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban, Altered Memories, Sirius Black Lives

Played For a Fool by fullonbicrisis ( T | 3k words | one-shot )

The main thing Sirius remembered was the burning. He felt every second of the dark magic as it seeped into his forearm. It was only a matter of moments, but it felt like a lifetime as he waited for it to end. There was no going back now. It was done.

Sirius Black had taken the dark mark.

or Sirius takes the dark mark and becomes the spy in order to save Regulus.

Regulus Black & Sirius Black || Fix-It of Sorts, Sirius Has a Savior Complex, Albus Dumbledore Bashing

Call it Impertinence by Xlinker ( E | 133k words | uncompleted )

Walburga adored her son. When she saw the telltale red scent glands on his frail body where shoulders meet neck, she knew. Sirius was an Omega. Mundane, mediocre, little overlooked Walburga Black sired an Omega son.

Endgame Sirius Black/Remus Lupin || Omega Sirius Black, Slow Burn, Pureblood politics

How To Lie by camichats ( T | 8k words | two-shot )

Regulus runs away to the Potter's. Sirius goes to visit and gets more than he bargained for in one James Potter, but he doesn't let that change his life plans.

Sirius Black/James Potter, Regulus Black & Sirius Black || Slytherin Sirius Black, Gryffindor Regulus Black, Pureblood Society, Roleswap-ish

Rebellion by Janieohio ( T | 2k words | one-shot )

First-year Hogwarts student Sirius Black was sure he'd break the family tradition of being sorted into Slytherin, yet here he was, despite everything. But when he sees the way the small, greasy-haired half-blood is being treated, he realises that perhaps there are other ways to rebel.

Sirius Black & Severus Snape, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape || Slytherin Sirius Black, What-If, Marauders Era

They're Hiding Inside Me by TheDivineComedian ( T | 38k words | completed )

It’s the summer after fifth year, and Sirius has made himself scarce as usual. But then Remus catches a glimpse of him in Witch Weekly’s special on the Black-Malfoy wedding. Something about that photo is very, very off…

Turns out this is the summer Sirius runs away. Or tries to. Because the Blacks are not giving up on their heir without a fight.

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & Regulus Black || Child Abuse, Marauders Era, Free Will

The Black Heir by wormsForthought ( M | 33k words | completed )

Everyone wanted a Black. It was a simple fact of the British magical society that one simply couldn’t do better than a Black. Yet, where does all that adoring hatred go, and what goes on behind closed doors?

Sirius Black/James Potter/Lily Evans || Slytherin Sirius Black, Trans Sirius Black, Marauders Era

Pot, Kettle, Black by TheDivineComedian ( T | 8k words | two-shot )

In 1978, Sirius Black almost becomes an Auror. Turns out even he can’t fake his way through the mental health assessment.

So what. He has better things to do: Remus Lupin is one. The war is another. He spends weeks at a time undercover for the Order while Polyjuiced to the gills. It’s probably his new favourite thing.

Little does Sirius know that running from himself will send him on a collision course with his ephemeral brother, but life is funny that way.

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & Regulus Black || Mental Health Issues, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Fix it a little bit, Character Study(?)

Overdose by puuvillaa ( E | 31k words | three-shot )

All his life, Sirius has pretended to be an alpha. When he runs away from home, he realises that he no longer has access to Suppressing Potion. To avoid detection, he decides to make his own. It can’t be that hard.

Can it?

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin || AU - No Voldemort, Omega/Omega, Omega Sirius Black

the scream in the title by orphan_account ( T | 10k words | uncompleted )

Sirius squints from Lupin and then back. “You’re Harry,” he says. “Aren’t you.”

“Yeah,” Harry mutters. “Sirius?” I know you.

“Harry Potter.”

“Yeah.”

“James’ kid, they said.”

“You don’t believe them,” Harry says.

Sirius shrugs jerkily. “Fucking time travel,” he grunts. “Like hell.”

Sirius Black & Harry Potter || De-Aged Sirius Black, Book 5, Hurt/Comfort

73 Aberdeen by Mici ( M | 30k words | three-shots )

There are some things ungoverned by fate. If Sirius Black had gone the path of every Black before him, if he had been in Slytherin, he would have been a very different boy. It would have been a very different war.

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin || Slytherin Sirius Black, Major Character Death, First Wizarding War

listing things that hurt (and things that don't) by orphan_account ( T | 7k words | one-shot )

He's nineteen and wonders if people can drown in rain.

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin || Mental Health Issues, Hurt Sirius Black, Bittersweet Ending, Introspective

On the Verge of Self-Destruction by shes_reckless ( M | 100k words | completed )

Sirius Black is under constant pressure to measure up to others' expectations of him. Feeling a lack of control over everything else in his life, he takes control over the one thing he can: his body and his weight. And no one can take that away from him.

Endgame Sirius Black/Remus Lupin || Eating Disorders, Blood Pressure, Mental Institutions

Everything is right by de_sire ( M | 10k words | one-shot )

There is something wrong with Sirius.

A story of teenage drama, confusing sexuality, unexpected attraction and, of course, love. It's always about love.

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin || Asexual Sirius Black, No Smut, Mutual Pining

Crash Into Me by Jadewing47 ( T | 2k words | one-shot )

Sirius always comes back a little...quieter after the summertime and Christmas breaks. The shadows curving his cheeks just a little more shaded in, his silver eyes just a little darker, his stride just a little slower, his back just a little straighter, and his tongue, for once, just a little quieter. This time the other Marauders find out why.

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin || Cruciatus Curse, Child Abuse, Depressed Sirius Black

Black Bonds by Rachel500 ( T | 40k words | completed )

When a new enemy targets their beloved grandson, Sirius, Sentinel Arcturus Black and his Guide, Melania, show why threatening the House of Black is a really, really bad idea.

Sirius Black & Regulus Black || AU - Sentinels & Guides, Kidnapping, Child Death, Mystery

Scars by orphan_account ( G | 4k words | one-shot )

Sirius self harms and Remus finds out.

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin || Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Depressed Sirius Black, Marauders Era

Not Okay by bethylated_spirits ( T | 4k words | one-shot )

"Where are you now? Are you safe?"

Sirius glances guiltily at the pill bottles lying next to him.

“I, um…” He swallows, his throat dry. “Yes?”

Sirius Black is not okay.

James Potter & Sirius Black || AU - Modern, Depressed Sirius Black, Self-Harm

Doubt thou the stars are fire by felinedetached ( T | 3k words | one-shot )

Sirius shuts his mouth, hides his views and does all he can to protect himself and his brother. This is why the hat put him in Slytherin.

(In another life, perhaps he was more like Andromeda. Perhaps he rebelled, lived his life bright and loud and brave and Gryffindor. But in this life, Sirius Black decided that surviving was more important to him than living, and he adjusted his actions accordingly.)

Sirius Black is a Good Pureblood Son, and everything changes.

Regulus Black & Sirius Black || Slytherin Sirius Black, Pureblood Politics, James Potter & Sirius Black aren’t friends, AU - Canon Divergence

The older brother by Arithra ( G | 1k words | one-shot )

Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero. Slytherin second year Sirius Black watches his younger brother's Sorting

or an AU in which both Regulus and Sirius Black are one year older than in canon and the changes that come with it, some expected, some not so much.

Regulus Black & Sirius Black || Gryffindor Regulus Black, Slytherin Sirius Black, roleswap-ish (not really)

Day In The Life by RainbowLookingGlass ( M | 2k words | one-shot )

Remus loves his boyfriend, Sirius Black, to pieces. But how does he handle it when he comes home to find Sirius a sobbing mess, flinging his brushes about and screaming curses at nobody in particular, and how did he come to this?

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin || BPD Sirius Black, Suicide Attempt, Self-Harm

Choice by orphan_account ( E | 5k words | three-shot )

This isn't the first time Sirius runs away from home.

Sirius Black, an heir to one of the wealthiest families in England, is well-known for his craving for all kinds of trouble. So of course this isn't the first time he does that.

But it's still fucking thrilling.

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Sirius Black/Kingsley Shacklebolt || Omega Sirius Black, No Magic, Arranged Marriage

Sirius Black's Guide to Tranferring Schools and Families by Dia_Scarlett ( T | 31k words | completed )

Sirius Black's not so helpful or foolproof guide to transferring schools and famililes.

Contains:

How to Get Your Brother Away from Shitty Family. Also Known as: Self Sabotage.

How to Make Friends When You're Posh and Privileged. Also Known as: Forced Friendships for the Better.

How to Handle Your Admirers via a Pissed off Brother. Also Known as: Beauty and All it's Ugly Side Effects.

How to Tell Your Brother That You're In Love With His Best Friend. Also Known as: Love In All It's Undignified Glory. How to Run Away From a Shitty Family Whilst Severely Injured. Also Know as: Running on Cold Concrete.

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Regulus Black & Sirius Black || French Sirius Black, Female Sirius Black, Slytherin Sirius Blackma

#harry potter #marauders era #hp marauders #fanfiction recommendation #hp fanfic recs #hp fic recs #fanfic recs #harry potter fanfic recs #sirius black #wolfstar #ao3 #ao3 fanfics #marauders #era 0

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spookyspecterino · 1 year ago

Text

Gentle Promises in the Dark

Sam Coe x GN! Starborn! Reader

GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions.

Spoilers for Starfield's endgame content.

No warnings. There's just a pinch of anxiety, but it's all fluff and happiness.

Sam asks what your future plans are. Will you leave him in search for another universe or stay behind?

This was a lovely request! I'll be closing them for now, just because I have more to catch up on and I've been getting distracted. Thank you to everyone for supporting my work! This fandom has been so welcoming and lovely to interact with!

Sam lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It must be late by now. But he isn’t tired, his mind turns over and over with endless thoughts.

A faint ray of light draws his attention, it’s the bedroom door opening just a crack for you to slip in. It shuts right behind you, returning the room to its inky blackness. His thoughts halt with the sound of your quiet footsteps.

Sam feels you slide under the covers, your feet are cold, as usual, and you snuggle up to him. Instinctually he’s moving to let you lay on his bare chest—your favorite spot.

“Hey.” You whisper, sounding content at last.

“Darlin’.” He drawls back in greeting, wrapping his arms around you.

“You doing ok? You’re not usually awake this late.”

“Just thinking.”

“Hm. About what?”

“Just about…” he sighs. “Everything.”

“Sounds like a lot.”

“Yeah…”

An uncomfortable silence lays in the air. Instead of passing, it lingers until Sam sighs again.

He decides to ask the question that’s been on his mind for a few weeks now.

“Are you going to go back into the Unity?”

Are you going to leave me behind?

You don’t answer at first. Memories surface of all the other times you traveled through the Unity. And all the times you came out of the other side. Feeling empty.

Out of fear or nervousness, you may have brushed the question off any other time, but now you answer honestly. “I don’t know. A long time ago I thought it was my purpose. Finding artifacts, fighting the Hunter, passing through the Unity… but…”

Sam hesitates, waiting on the edge, he wants you to continue. But he’s afraid of your answer.

“This universe…it’s different than the others.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked this, but how many universes have you been to? How many years have you been doing this?”

You chuckle. It sounds pained. “Too many to count and too many for one lifetime.”

Sam tries to laugh, to alleviate the anxiety he feels bundled up in his chest. “You tellin’ me you’re older than I am?”

Groaning playfully, you nuzzle into his neck. Your smile against his skin makes his heavy heart a little lighter.

“Let’s not talk about that part.”

He pulls you closer. “Ok deal.”

The silence lingers again.

“Are you looking for an opinion?” he asks, his voice very quiet.

“From you? Always.”

“I think you should stay here. With us—with me. We could…” He clears his throat, swallowing the words his heart wanted him to say.

“We could what?”

After a few beats of his pounding heart, “It’s gonna sound sappy, but…we just keep going. Grow older together. Watch Cora grow up. Live out our golden years exploring the stars.”

“You really want that?”

“Hell yes I do.”

You fall silent. Sam stares into the dark. He feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into a deep abyss with no end. He wished you’d just spit it out, give him the bad news so he could start preparing himself to lose you—

“I can’t think of anything I’d want more.”

Sam’s whole body relaxes with a long-winded exhale. Had he been holding his breath?

“Did you think I was going to say no?”

“Honestly…I was kind of expecting you to. How could I compare to the life—or lifetimes—you’ve lived traveling to new universes? How could I compare to the power you gain every time you cross over?” He looks away, shrugging. “There’s an infinite number of me out there. You could do this again in the next universe.”

You pull back, propping yourself up to look at him in the dark. He can see the faint outline of your face. You’re frowning.

“There’s only one of you that’s like you. I have never met another that comes close.”

“You’re just trying to flatter me.”

You take his chin in your hand, forcing him to face you and preventing him from turning away. “Out of infinite universes, you’re the only one I’ve ever loved.”

“What about the one in your original universe?”

“If I loved him, I wouldn’t have left.”

“Huh…so that means…?”

“Yes.” He can see you smile. “I choose you. I’m staying.”

He laughs, pressing a light kiss to your lips. “Well, I guess first things first.”

You lean your forehead to his, he can hear the smile in your voice. “And what would that be?”

“I’m gonna marry you.”

#Sam Coe x reader #Sam Coe #Starfield #gn reader

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imagine-knowing-a-name · 2 years ago

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wish i’d never grown up

Summary: Natasha adopted you as a baby, and now she gets to see you grow up

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x daughter!Reader

Word Count: 2586

Warnings: Angst. Endgame canon compliant

A/N: Was writing fluff. Taylor Swift came on. This happened instead. Anyway if it isn’t clear, based on and including lyrics from Never Grow Up by Taylor Swift, and the text in quotation marks is Natasha talking.

—————————————————

“I had no clue what I was doing. A baby was never in my plans, never in my training-”

Your little hands wrapped around my finger And it's so quiet in the world tonight

“-but from my first moments with you, I knew I was going to learn. For you.”

Your little eyelids flutter 'cause you're dreaming So I tuck you in, turn on your favourite nightlight

One of your first memories, so mundane, a fragmented clip of when she laid the blanket over you, and pulled you back into the realm of consciousness just long enough to feel a soft press of lips to your forehead. The loop repeated, but the other senses took priority, you could still hear the click of the nightlight, the warmth of her embrace, you could practically still feel her arms around you, keeping you safe.

To you, everything's funny You got nothing to regret I'd give all I have, honey If you could stay like that

You had no idea then, but you knew now, everything your mother carried with her. Countless lifetimes’ worth of choices and actions she never should have been forced to take, all of which she kept from you, too fearful of what might happen if she exposed you to any of it. You could imagine it now, everything she had to bear, the permanent sorrow in her eyes even as she laughed along with you, the marks on her features that would never fade, no matter how often you caused her to smile. A decade would pass before you’d learn about the childhood she had survived; before you learnt that she had never been as carefree as you had been in that moment. That she was never allowed to be.

Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up Don't you ever grow up, just stay this little Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up Don't you ever grow up, it could stay this simple

“I’d never seen someone so innocent, so free from life’s scars. Like my own little Pandora, you radiated hope with every smile and brought joy back into my world. I’d seen so much, but none of it with a perspective like yours. With you, I could experience the world again, live another life and spend it all with you. And I could protect you, do everything I could so you would never experience the life I led before you.”

I won't let nobody hurt you Won't let no one break your heart And no one will desert you Just try to never grow up Never grow up

She protected you from hurt, but a life cannot be lived without some scrapes and bruises. You got plenty of those in the physical sense, climbing and running and playing, but a kiss and a band-aid from your mother, maybe even some encouraging words, and everything was better. You remembered the first time a wound scarred, you’d been so worried when weeks passed and it still didn’t match your skin. You ran to her immediately, holding it out and sobbing. She took your arm in both hands, laying a kiss to your wound before wiping the tears from your eyes.

She’d knelt in front of you, lifting her sleeve to show her own scar, a pale blotch in just the same area. “We’re matching,” she’d told you, “it’s healed just the right amount, it’s a reminder of what you got through, but it’s not holding you back.”

—

“I can still remember your first scar, a little blotch on your left arm. You fell over in the playground and ran over, asking me to patch it up. We chose out your band aid together, you wanted the one with the dogs on, so that’s what you got. A few weeks later and you were running over again, crying about why it hadn’t healed. I showed you my own scar, and I think that was the first time you saw it - you were so shocked, I reckon you’d thought I was invincible. You ran away immediately when I said it wouldn’t heal - I thought I’d scared you - but you came running back with the band-aids, patching me up with a dog just so I would match you. You even pulled it in for a kiss, promising it would get better thanks to your help. Maybe that scar didn’t, but I am certain others started to heal that day.”

You're in the car on the way to the movies And you're mortified your mom's dropping you off At fourteen, there's just so much you can't do And you can't wait to move out someday and call your own shots

Your mother was famous… for all the wrong reasons. It had been fun for a bit after the Battle of New York, people recognised her as your mother, they all wanted to be your friend, pestering you with questions you were more than happy to answer. You were proud of your mum, and took every opportunity to talk about her, but the more they asked, the more you realised you didn’t know.

She’d explained it to you calmly after you confronted her about all the questions. She explained her past, her childhood, her job, only a slightly censored version to make sure it was appropriate for you to know. She knew none of it was appropriate for you, but it was an important part of her, and you wanted to know her, so she told you all the things she hoped to keep you safe from.

Everyone found out a couple of years later anyway, when she leaked SHIELD’s documents about her. You hated the media frenzy, having to hear everyone at school discuss your mother in so much detail, some of them even reciting the media’s venomous words about her, and nothing you could do would change their minds.

When your friends invited you to go watch a movie, you wanted a break from it all. To be dropped off by The Black Widow would just spark up the debate again and you couldn’t take it. Soon enough you’d be able to drive yourself, or maybe not live so far away from the city in the middle of nowhere, and you wouldn’t have to rely on your mum dropping you off everywhere. One day. You had to grow up first.

You asked to be dropped off around the corner, that way they wouldn’t see her. You hurried out the car, muttering a ‘will do’ in response to her ‘stay safe!’. With your eyes down, you didn’t notice the tears in hers, or the slight tremble in her voice.

But don't make her drop you off around the block Remember that she's getting older, too

“I didn’t have anything to miss while I grew up, nor anyone who would miss me. I had no warning that it was going to be this hard.”

And don't lose the way that you dance around In your PJs getting ready for school Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up Don't you ever grow up, just stay this little

“My handlers didn’t want me to grow up, yet they forced me to. To see you growing up at your own pace, of your own choice, brings some indescribable feeling. I’m glad of the life you got to live and I’m proud of who you’re growing into. There really is no training for taking in a baby, and for once, I was happy to learn on the way.

But I can never forget the people you were, and I hope you never lose them either. The baby we rescued at the expense of peaceful nights… the toddler who used to cry on the way to school, never wanting to be apart from me… to the child I had to wake up with blasting music because a dance party was the only way to get you up. I wish things could stay this simple, that you could stay so full of life, you may have to get older, but don’t you ever grow up. We can always have this.”

Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up Don't you ever grow up, it could stay this simple No one's ever burned you Nothing's ever left you scarred And even though you want to Just try to never grow up

The first time you argued with friends, your mother was the first to reassure you everything would be okay, on a day where nothing felt like it would be okay again. She held you close and let you cry, telling you it would always be okay to run right back to her.

"We'll go for a drive," she said to you, and you did, she drove you aimlessly at first, just letting you talk until you felt more like yourself. Then she found an aim, taking you to an arcade and besting you at every game. Sure she was trying to make you feel better, but not to the point of letting you win - and you wouldn't have accepted it any other way.

You wanted to live in that moment forever, away from the troubles of life, away from the independence that she had allowed, to just stay with her. Playing games just like when you were a little kid.

Take pictures in your mind of your childhood room Memorise what it sounded like when your dad gets home Remember the footsteps, remember the words said And all your little brother's favourite songs

It was Yelena who came to pick you up. You had no idea what was going on; you’d been sitting in your room one moment, finishing homework and waiting for your mum to come home. She liked to order take out after a mission, and in advance of her arrival, you’d written out some options; she could make the final choice on what to get when she was home, but you’d narrowed it down to a few you wanted.

Suddenly the room changed around you, your pale walls darkening to a deep red. Your desk, your homework, your scrap bits of paper were all gone, everything vanished, and you hit the floor with a thud. It had been too sudden for you to catch yourself, and you knew your back would end up bruised.

“Mum?” you called, eyes darting around every corner of this new room. The views were the same, the windows opening to the same scene you could picture with your eyes closed, you’d seen it every day of your life. You were in the same location then, but what had happened to your room? A king sized bed took up half the space, replacing any furniture you had kept in that area, a mirror and dresser took up the corners. Footsteps ran towards your door and your hope grew that it was your mother, coming to explain everything, but she’d taught you better than that. You remembered her footsteps, and those weren’t them.

You dove under the bed, rolling right to the centre to minimise your chances of being seen. You tried to even your breathing, but all of the preparation didn’t prepare you for something to actually happen, your sight was blurred by tears and you bit your own knuckle to mask your breaths.

“Hello?” A man spoke. You stayed quiet. A hum. The man seemed to take the silence as an answer and walked out, shutting the door behind him. You stayed hidden as you listened to his footsteps fade, before rushing out from under the bed and throwing the windows open. You’d practised this with your mum, and luckily the exterior of the house was unchanged. You grabbed the ledge and swung your body over, closing the windows again to erase suspicion, then shuffled along the side panels until you reached the water pipes. You’d been told they were reinforced and you hoped that was still the case as you grabbed on and slid down.

Dropping off at the end, you ran into the safety of the trees you had spent so much of your childhood in, the trail had become overgrown, but you knew the route by heart, and found yourself at the treehouse before you even knew the path you were following. It was still there, still intact, and you climbed up to it without a second thought, tucking yourself tight in the corner before you took your phone out.

You filed through the contacts before you found it: Mum. You hit call.

It rang, and it rang, and it continued to ring. Why wasn’t she picking up? You needed her, where was she? Even on most missions she could still have her phone set to answer you. You tried again, and again, and again and again. Then another contact popped up, someone calling you; Yelena.

“Auntie Lena?” you sobbed.

“Y/N, where are you? Are you safe? Is Nat with you?”

“I’m in the treehouse, there’s people in the house and mum isn’t picking up.”

“She’s not answering me either… I will come and collect you, stay there, I will get you safe.”

I just realised everything I have is someday gonna be gone So here I am in my new apartment In a big city, they just dropped me off It's so much colder than I thought it would be So I tuck myself in and turn my nightlight on

Your first memory was made here. A little room adjacent to your mother’s.

The space was only ever designed for one person, so as soon as you outgrew the room, Natasha bought the house every other memory was made in, and the two of you made it your own.

Now it was just you. There was no need for a two person space, so you were back. In a room that was yours, yet still felt so new. You didn’t fit the bed, it was designed for a toddler after all, but it was yours, and the alternative was sleeping in a bed that was hers.

She wasn’t here to tuck you in anymore, to stir you awake with a kiss on the forehead, or to hold you as you fell asleep. You both grew up, and that left you alone. She would never do it again.

You pulled the covers up to your chin. It didn’t bring the same warmth you craved from your memory, and your nightlight shone dimly.

If this was growing up - a life without her - then you wish you’d never grown up.

Wish I'd never grown up I wish I'd never grown up And even though you want to Please try to never grow up

“And now you’re gone. I don’t know what to do, so I wrote this because I don’t want to forget one bit of you. I don’t want to forgive myself for this, I promised I’d give all I had to keep you safe.

I didn’t do enough.

I wish we’d never grown up, life could have stayed so simple, I would have never reached an age where I could lose you. I’ve been told there’s a chance to get you back, a small, dangerous one, but it’ll be worth it to me.

I might not be here if you get back, but I hope you find this journal, and remember, my darling, to never grow up, not properly.

But I need to do this, so you at least have a chance to grow up.

I love you, Y/N.

Your mother always,

Natasha”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x child!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff & reader #natasha romanoff & child!reader #child!reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff & y/n #marvel #mcu #natasha romanoff angst

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locke-esque-monster · 6 months ago

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I came into season 2 of Loki knowing how it ended. This is not something that endears me to fiction, because knowing how it ends is for a re-watch. If I come in knowing the ending, it only results in me consciously or subconsciously looking at the show to see how the puzzle comes together rather than enjoying the ride.

I also came into Loki season 2 pleasantly enjoying how they approached time travel in season 1 (ex. far better than say Endgame), but not terribly impressed, because I've seen it done better.

I enjoy the characters, and I like time travel, and I wanted to enjoy the ride despite all this.

But the last 2 episodes of Loki truly took me aback. The discussions of science vs fiction in episode 5 were a pleasant surprise. But the last episode...

I can't say I've encountered a time loop of the character's own making before in visual media (not to say it doesn't exist, but that I can't think of an instance I've seen on screen). I've seen a character driven mad in a time loop they're stuck in, but not watched one they chose. And Tom Hiddleston played it pitch perfect. He has all the desperation, the efficiency, the exhaustion, and yet the perseverance to fix this problem - but not quite the madness. Because he understands why he's there and what he needs to do instead of being trapped there by some other force. Listen to how Loki encourages Victor down the walk, with all the right words but none of the inflection- he's done this too many times before. But listen to him talk to Victor on his way back - the encouragement is genuine because this is the first time it's happened. In these scenes alone you see what Loki's been through during all the times we haven't seen him go back. But it also on a small scale encapsulates the futility and hope that's a part of every time travel story.

Putting Loki through hundreds of years to fix this problem is so understated, but the perfect way to show that he didn't come to his sacrifice at the end without doing literally everything he can to fix the problem. And making Loki a long-living demi-god actually improves the circumstances, because he has a perspective that few would on time. And it shows his growth on how much time he's willing to spend on humans he's known so little compared to his lifetime (prior to the aforementioned centuries of trying to fix this issue).

Making a way to get out of the time loop the final ethical problem of a 2 season show, and 12 years of Hiddleston (impeccably) playing a character stuck in his ways is inspired. It's an episode that was far more focused on Loki himself in a way I hadn't even noticed the show wasn't doing until now. And the choice to make the god of chaos the enabling of a multiverse allowing chaos and free will to exist forevermore is perfect.

While I can't say this show or finale was perfect, it was firing on far more cylinders than I anticipated. And I was much more moved by the ending than I ever expected to be.

#loki season 2 #loki season two #loki series #loki 2x6 #loki #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #tom hiddleston #time travel #time fuckery #loki tom hiddleston #loki mcu #loki marvel #mcu loki #loki spoilers

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imgeekgirlfan · 7 months ago

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I Will Follow You Into The Dark

Pairings: Astarion x Original Female Character(Named Tav) [From Baldur's Gate 3]

Tag/Warnings : Canon Compliant, Post-Endgame, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Tragedy, Mentions of past abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, References to Depression, Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Synopsis : Astarion returned to the city of Baldur's Gate, following the final request of his beloved, who asked him to bury her next to his grave. As dawn approached, Astarion held the lifeless body of his love, reminiscing about the countless memories they shared together.

A/N : The story started when I came across this tweet: 'do you guys think your tavs/durges stayed with their love interest long term or not?'

I got the idea to tell the story of my Tav and her love interest, Astarion. What would happen to them after the end of Baldur's Gate 3? I've been thinking about it a lot and it's quite heartbreaking.

From these little headcanons, I developed this one-shot about them.

My Tav is a human bard with a noble background. So, I imagined her as the daughter of a noble Baldurian,which contrasts with Astarion's background. Their initial relationship was more of a adversaries before blossoming into love in the end.

Listening to the song "I Will Follow You into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie gave me a lot of inspiration for this couple. (At first, I wanted to use the song "Take Me To Church" as the title, but it's too popular. I thought a song that many might not have heard of would be fitting for this tale.)

Read in Ao3 : here

"Jones," Astarion whispered, calling his beloved, but she didn't respond.

Her eyes closed tightly, her body growing colder with each passing moment.

Astarion pulled her closer, hoping his slight warmth might warm her. He knew it wouldn't help, and she would never wake to look into his eyes again.

Human lives are fleeting, from young maiden to old crone, from crone to spirit.

Her entire life was a blink of an eye compared to his cursed immortality.

Once, Astarion had both disdain and curiosity about this human. A race so fragile and feeble, never wielding a sword to harm anyone, raised in a noble family, spending half a comfortable lifetime in a grand mansion in Baldur’s Gate, surrounded by obedient servants bowing to her every whim.

He couldn't make sense of her. For a vampire like him who had struggled to survive amidst enemies and a cruel world for centuries. He was nothing but a bloodthirsty creature, a servant under a master's foot who got treated worse than a common slave, struggling to sustain his life with the taste of filthy rat blood that almost made him vomit.

Astarion envies her for an ideal life in the gilded cage he could only dream of. envied the short-lived human existence. While he had no right to die willingly if his evil master didn't want him to die,

And he wondered why she had fled her high-life in the capital city of Baldur’s Gate to suffer with them. why someone so inept at fighting would risk her life battling monsters, from goblins and evil undead to even gods, to aid them and help everyone unrelated to her.

He thought Jones was foolish, and he didn't like fools.

Ironically, eighty years later, he found himself shedding tears at her death.

"I wish to be buried beside your grave, Astarion." That was one of her last wishes before she breathed her last in his embrace. This led Astarion to make the singular decision to step out of the Underdark and return to Baldur’s Gate, the city where he once hated heavily, to fulfill the last wish of his beloved.

The black sky began to turn deep blue. Astarion knew he should hurry to bury Jones properly before the sunrise. As he contemplated, his eyes caught withered flowers left on the ground near his own grave marker. For a brief moment, Astarion reminisced about the memories he shared with her. He had once brought Jones to his own grave, recounting his life before turning into a vampire. and then visualizing a future where he wished to live with her,as his past had died over two centuries ago and she was the only future he desired.

Astarion remembered his overwhelming fear that Jones might refuse him. She was the highborn daughter of Baldur’s Gate's noble families. Why would she choose to endure the hardships of life with an elf vampire like him?

Yet his fear vanished instantly when he saw the soft smile on her smooth face. She placed flowers on his grave and embraced him, accepting his love wholeheartedly.

That night was the night he died and was reborn in her embrace. Not as the enslaved Astarion, not as the villainous Astarion, but as Astarion the redeemed, never to be alone again because he would have her by his side forever.

But the words 'forever' don't really exist, especially for humans and vampires.

Still, Astarion couldn't help but secretly hope.

Sometimes, darker thoughts overshadow his mind, eclipsing all the goodness he has left. Astarion often secretly pondered that if he chose the path of power, performed an ancient ritual to sacrifice seven thousand souls to a devil, and transformed himself into a vampire ascendant, he would have enough strength to walk in the sunlight with her and enough power to turn her into a vampire like him. Then they could live together forever without the fear of death taking her away.

But it was Jones who restrained him then. She persuaded Astarion to see that these powers offered him nothing but the dark legacy of the Vampire Master, an inheritance of wickedness that would never end. She told him he could be better than Cazador, his former master, and he didn't have to continue killing others to sustain his existence anymore.

Astarion trusted her, though he couldn't deny feeling deeply regretful. And Jones sensed his feelings. She gently grasped his cold hands and earnestly vowed, "Astarion, I will find a way to cure you of vampirism, so you can walk under the sunlight with me again."

And she kept her promise. After successfully helping Baldur’s Gate city fend off the threats of the Mind Flayers and Nether Brain, she and him began a new adventure together. They journeyed across the entire continent of Faerûn, from Waterdeep to Athkatla, Neverwinter, Luskan, and even the mysterious realm of Feywild, all in pursuit of finding a cure for him.

Those times were special, building strong bonds and beautiful memories between them. They laughed together, danced together, fought together, and held each other close under vast skies and twinkling stars as witnesses.

Until Jones began to age and couldn’t continue the journey. That was when they both realized how little time they had left. And no matter how much time and effort they put in, there was no way to find a cure for him anymore.

Facing the harsh reality was incredibly difficult. Astarion had to hide his deep sorrow while he tried to persuade her to stop the adventure and live out her remaining days in the Underdark, the dark and sunless realm, the only place where he could be with her.

He knew what the near future held. Nothing would hurt as much as watching his beloved age continuously, waiting for her time to pass while he remained unchanged.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you as I promised. Please forgive me," she said during their time in Underdark. Her bright blue eyes, the very eyes he fell in love with, overflowed with guilt.

Astarion wanted her to know that he could never be angry or hate her.

The shovel still lay untouched on the ground, with no sign of being used anytime soon. While the vampire elf sat silently in front of his own grave marker, letting old memories flow through his mind once more,. Both his arms cradled her lifeless body as if she were still alive.

"My beloved, please continue to live on for me. I wish to see you happy for a long time," another of her last requests echoed in his mind. The gentle touch of her frail hand on his cheek still lingers in his heart to this day.

"Jones." Astarion whispers her name again. Tears, which he had not shed for a long time, now streamed down his pale face. "I can't do it," he murmured to her lifeless body. "How can I find happiness without you?"

A golden beam slowly crept in, chasing away the darkness from the vast sky. Yet Astarion's body remained unmoving, just like the eyes of the vampire, which refused to leave the withered face of his beloved for a second. He memorized every detail of her, keeping it in his memory as best as he could. She still looked as beautiful as ever in his eyes—always and forever.

"I wish the next life was real. I hope we'll meet again, live together, and build a family," Astarion whispered softly, planting a tender kiss on the edge of her lips. "Wait for me, darling. I'll follow you soon, no matter where you choose to go."

Finally, he tore his gaze away from her, looking up at the sky once more. For the first time in centuries, he had the chance to gaze at the nearing dawn with full eyes. As the sun peeked over the horizon, followed by the warm rays starting to seep through his skin, cracks began to form, turning his skin into tiny specks of dust.

Before his final consciousness faded, Astarion's thoughts remained vivid.

This was the most beautiful dawn he had ever witnessed.

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