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plutoswritingplanet · 8 months ago

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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt.4 (final)

a/n: we did it Joe! this chapter officially marks the first ever series i've completed lmao. thank you for all the support on this fic, every like, every comment, every out-of-pocket anon ask.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (like...fr this time), Blood and Violence, Manipulation.

Summary: After the wedding, Husband and Wife work out the intricate web of their relationship.

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3

Gurney looks at you as if you're already dead.

You hide from his gaze, ducking behind pillars, whenever you can hear his footsteps. It's truly depressing, the way your mentor shakes his head, as if, instead of looking at you, he's looking at a coffin. You suppose he might be right, he's the one with the most experience in the Harkonnen area. He's fought them, dined with them, seen their customs through and through. And now, his dutiful little student is about to be thrown into the very same world, he has relayed to you as a nightmarish fairytale. Still, a little misplaced optimism wouldn't kill him. Or just, a sliver of hope, an inclination that you might survive this.

The day of your wedding rolls upon you like an oceanic storm, all chaos and rumbling.

Here you sit, your bones locked with nerves, as the servants pack away your things. A futile thing, you muse to yourself. It's highly doubtful the Harkonnens will let you keep any personal items back from Caladan. They'll mold you into their image, until all your hair naturally falls out. The thought would make you laugh, but here's a servant, placing your jewelry into a case, which lands in a bag, which will be transported to the Harkonnen ship by the end of the day.

Your room, the place you've spent all your life in, slowly becomes more and more barren.

The closet stands empty, so do the drawers. All your trinkets are swiftly transported away until you're left alone in your wedding dress, the only familiar thing between the hollow ribs of your life's sanctuary. Wishing you could fold the entirety of the castle, with the stables, and the horses, and the cliffs, and throw it into the final suitcase, so you can open it up in times of turmoil, and breathe in the familiar scents. You need to leave, right now. Sitting like this, wrenches a dangerous numbness out of your chest. And you can't be allowed to dissapear into yourself. You're an Atreides, you shall wear your pain with dignity, as per your Mother's wishes.

Your wedding dress swishes around you, as you stand up from your bed. It's much more classy, and less of a chiffon catastrophe, than your engagement dress, a welcome change. The veil is embroidered with light crystals and metal plating. It falls heavily over your face, and jingles when you move. By all intents and purposes, it is a dream dress. A dress you'd like to wear for a wedding of your own, a wedding with some dashing gentleman. A gentleman, which in your most private of dreams, has the face of Duncan Idaho, with silver rings braided into his hair.

Instead, you're left with this monster, so alien and cold. A beast at the center of the maze.

The bull looks at you from the wall. Its horns, smeared with your Grandfather's blood, curl grotesquely into the ceiling. The head is mounted above the doors to the library, a grim reminder of his spectacular death. As a child, you'd spend hours, standing right here, at the entrance, staring at the animal's head. You've always wondered, whether it were the lights playing tricks on your mind, or you saw a shadow of pride in the bull's eyes.

Did it know who was its victim? The leader of one of the most important Houses in all known universe laid dead at its feet. Did it know what sort of spectacle it produced? What destruction of hubris? You suppose it couldn't, it was an animal, after all. A headless creature, hung on a wall. Still, you stare at it, just like you used to, trying to decipher your own fate from its cold, dead eyes.

After all, there will be a spectacle, a life-long fight stands ahead of you. Giedi Prime shall be your arena, dead and cold, covered in black. And every single Harkonnen will be your bull, their mere presence a deathly danger to your being. It took one bull to end your Grandfather, you dread to think how many it'll take to end you. There will be blood, you're sure of it. And if things were allowed to go your way, it would flow in rivers upon rivers, through the industrial halls of Giedi Prime. You'd have the entire planet drowned in their blood. Your cursed betrothed, the Baron, the fucking Emperor if you had to.

The bull laughs at your quiet hate, beady eyes bearing down upon you in an imaginary display of indifference. You huff, cheeks reddened, insides twisted and burning.

That's how your Father finds you. Enchanted by a once living instrument of death.

He hasn't spoken to you, since your betrothed has arrived, not really. Not like you used to talk. A way to shield himself, you supposed, from the Emperor's order, which will soon enough take his only Daughter away from him. This was your superpower. You could fish out signs of love in every action.

- Your Mother hates that thing - he comments, as he stands next to you, eyes looking up at the bull.

- I don't blame her, the sight is quite disturbing. - you reply evenly.

You've missed him, more than you can possibly explain with words. But teary displays of affections were below you, especially since you're trying to distance yourself, rise above your body, float right out of your head. Perhaps it'll hurt less that way. Duke Leto Atreides turns to you, and for the first time in a month, you recognize your Father behind this statue of authority. He looks troubled, for lack of a better word. There's much more gray on his brow and the lines of his face are darker, harsher.

- I came to give you something - he announces, producing a small object out of the pocket of his trousers.

It's harder than you thought, tearing your gaze away from the bull, but you manage, your eyes landing on a figurine in your Father's hands. Your heart stops, as you recognize the blackened stone, polished to perfection. On a flat disc stands a figure of a Matador, proud and posed. Next to him, a bull, ready to strike. It's cold to the touch, when you take it from your Father, ridges of the small sculpture digging into your palm.

Jumping in front of danger, for better or worse. Your head starts to hurt.

- Father - the sound of your shaking voice carries through the corridor - How will I ever survive this?

By the way Duke Leto Atreides sucks in a sharp breath, you can deduce the answer. And what a sad answer it is.

Your Father steps closer, gathering your trembling hands in his, the warmth of his embrace engulfing you like the first sun rays of spring. He squeezes your fingers, tightening your own hold on the small figurine, and his eyes are so incredibly sad, you're convinced they could make any heart in the universe weep.

- With courage - he says - and grandiose.

Like a true Matador would.

***

Your bull stands completely still.

His pale skin creates a beautiful contrast against the ever present darkness of the Harkonnen ship. It's so much different from your native fleet, all sleek and black, and efficient. Terrifying, but at the same time, strangely beautiful.

The both of you watch, as the hatch is being pulled up, slowly but surely obscuring all sight of your home planet. Of your family, standing by the docking station like a funeral parade. It's only when you can no longer see them, your life sealed with a click of finality, does your betrothed, now husband, move.

His hand grasps your upper shoulder, and you jump at the sudden contact. Your confused gaze is completely ignored, as the man drags you through the ship, taking large, hasty steps.

Hairless faces swish past you, all so similar to each other, you're worried you'll never figure out who is who. The corridors of the ship wind and turn like a merciless labyrinth, a realization daunting on you, that you will never be able to find your way in this place.

Suddenly, you're faced with a black door, which opens as soon as your husband walks up to it. His grip tightens and he basically throws you forward, watching you stumble through the entrance on weak legs.

It takes you a second to gather yourself, as you instinctually settle into a defensive stance. The room you're in looks quite different from the rest of the ship. It's much more luxurious, one would risk saying cozy. With a gigantic, round bed filled with pillows, a dark desk, and a deliciously comfortable looking armchair. It all dims in your eyes, however, as you look up at your newlywed.

He stands right at the entrance, blocking the only means of escape with his tall frame.

Both of you are still in your wedding clothes. Your dress hugs your body in a way that is anything but comforting. His outfit is as black and sharp, as all his attire. It exposes his lean physique, clings to his warrior's physique. Terrifying, your brain summarizes, muscles freezing suddenly. Feyd Rautha looks at you with emotions you can't decipher in the low light of his room. Your room. Your marital abode.

You can't breathe, lungs tighten painfull with the sheer thickness of the air between the two of you. Still, there's a certain power, residing in your bones, an inclination of a fight you're ready to put up, should he try anything. And by the way his brow bone settles over his darkened eyes, your husband seems to understand. What a terrifying thought. The sheer idea of finding a common ground with this awful man makes your guts turn.

He doesn't even flinch, when the doors behind him slide open. You however, nearly jump out of your skin at the sound, cutting through the deafening silence of the bedroom. With furrowed brow you watch, as three Harkonnen women spill into the room. All of them completely hairless, lips pulled back in feral snarls, as they regard you with an emotion you can only interpret as contempt. Their bodies, clad in typical, Harkonnen garments, flow and slither, when they gather behind your husband, like three hungry lionesses, their black eyes flickering to him, to you.

- Get her ready - Fey Rautha throws a command over his shoulder, eyes glued to you still, and his gaze drags itself across your body like tar.

This is the first time you've heard him speak since the wedding, and involuntarily, you cringe at the gravely sound. While he stayed silent, it was easy to forget who you're dealing with. But as soon as sound leaves his mouth, you're cruelly reminded of the roughness, and the strangeness of your life's partner.

The three women stir behind him, hands sliding up his body in a gesture, that is almost too close to reverence. He does look like a young god, like some ethereal being, but you're too distressed to dwell on that thought. Instead, your arms encircle your body, a shiver of terror and strangely, disgust flowing over you, at the mere idea of these women touching you. Then, one of those three strange creatures moves forward. She has a stripe of black running down her bottom lip, and her face twists into a cruel smile.

She says something in a language you don't recognize. Probably a native Harkonnen. A rough bark, her disgusted expression translating the meaning better, than any dictionary would.

Still, you have no time to process the foreign insult, because as soon as words leave her mouth, your husband turns. His white hand grabs the woman's hairless head, as one would pick an apple from an orchard, and then, you see a flicker of true terror flash through the woman's face. In a smooth, deadly gesture, Feyd Rautha smashes her face against the wall, the resounding sound of her skull fracturing against the concrete is like the cracking of a whip in your ears.

That's all it takes, one move, and she falls into a lifeless heap, sliding down the wall.

A sigh escapes your lips, as your eyes stay glued to her body. You can't see her face.

Your husband barks something towards the remaining two women, and they scurry towards you, heads hung low, bodies curled onto themselves. You don't know, whether he looks at you, acknowledges you in any way, shape or form. The doors close behind him, as he leaves you in the hands of his... Whatever these women are to him.

They begin to strip you where you stand. Their hands peel off your wedding dress from your trembling body, and every move feels like tearing skin from muscle. You can't protest, can't do anything really. Dark, thick blood pools around the third woman's head, dripping between the tilled floor, slowly making it's way closer to your feet.

When they pull you towards the bed, you say nothing. Let them massage your body with some ointment, which smells of heavy chemicals and scratches your throat.

Their hands are unexpectedly delicate. You suppose they're too scared to take revenge on you, or perhaps, they just don't care. Doesn't really matter, because you do. You really care, despite yourself. Heart squeezes in your chest impossibly tight, when they help you up from the bed, and once again you're confronted with the white corpse in the corner of the room.

The dress they pull over your body hardly qualifies as a garment in your eyes. It's made of delicate, sheer material, which barely covers anything, looking more like a courtain thrown over a window.

Is this how he wants you, you wonder. Terrified, bare, always on the verge of something, be it tears or anger.

One of the women steps in front of you, takes your hands in hers and rubs something into your cold bones. You try to catch her eye, try to decipher how to categorize them, as humans or as creatures, but she swiftly ducks under your inquisitive gaze. That is, until your eyes flicker towards the corpse once again.

Her hand shoots up towards your chin, dragging you back to meet her onyx eyes. You can see the reflection of your own confused face in the void.

- You- she rasps, her voice a grating symphony of gurgles and growls that stumble over the common language - Soft.

Whether it's a warning, or a threat, you can't fully decide, but it doesn't matter. Those two words tell you more about your future life, than any book, any archived account. This is what the Harkonnens are made of. Sensless violence, outbursts of anger, dark blood. You swallow thickly, and nod, your expression hardening in the woman's eyes. She looks as if there's something else she'd want to say, but her head ducks at record speed, when the sound of the doors opening cuts through the air once more.

For a longer moment you're completely devoid of words.

Here stands you husband, some sort of fruit in his right hand, two daggers hanging from the belt on his trousers. His chest, white and (unfortunately) toned beyond belief stares back at you. His unoccupied hand makes a wide gesture, and the remaining two women scurry off towards their third, dead companion. With quick hands, they grab the body and drag it out of the room, letting the door slide closed behind them. Immediately, you miss their presence, unnerving as they are.

Once again, you're left alone with the na-Baron.

His eyes float freely all over your figure, taking it in with an impassive stare. It's deeply unnerving, the way you're presented to him, the way he organized all of this, tailored it to his liking. You can't help it, the way your body begins to warm before him, skin becoming prickly to the touch, much too sensitive for the strange imitation of fabric covering it. Still, your mind stays sharp, and instinct kicks in, as you take a cautious step back, angling your bady away from him.

- So, what now? - you ask, voice rough, eyes following his every move.

And move he does, slowly advancing towards you. His feet, which you now discover, are bare, drag behind him. Grace and danger mix well within his movements, as he circles you, still without a word. You throat runs dry, when he bites the fruit in his hand, dark juice spilling all over his lips, drops rolling down his hands, his forearms. Your stomach churns.

- Now - again you're reminded of the gravely tones his voice can carry - We consumate our marriage, wife.

Somehow, your marital status sounds like a mockery spilling from his lips, and he laughs at the way your face scrunches.

- I don't want you to touch me - a lie, your entire body burns for any semblence of friction, but you're determined to keep some dignity.

To that, he nods his head in silent agreement, a gesture, which actually manages to surprise you. The fruit is thrown forgotten onto the floor. It rolls under the bed, and you fight the urge to reprimend your husband. Instead, you bite your lip.

- I thought you would say that - he murmurs, coming closer, his breath fanning over your exposed shoulder.

The hair at the back of your neck stands straight, and you crane your head to the side, so you can look him in the face. So he can see the disaproving expression, perhaps he'd feel a fraction of the hate boiling in your gaze. Then, you can feel something, cold and sharp, drag itself from the dip in your spine, all the way up to your shoulder blades. A gasp escapes you, and your entire body shivers violently.

- That's why I brought these. - Feyd Rautha whispers into your ear, and you can't help but sway lightly in your place, as if his words have the power to physically move you.

Then, your hand closes around a metal object, and you look down to be met with a beautifully crafted dagger. The blade is silver, shiny, and unbelievably sharp. It fits into your grasp as if it was made specially for you, and the possibility almost makes you smile. Then, confusion creases your brow, and your husband flashes you a deadly, black smile, as he steps back a couple of steps.

He's holding a blade as well, jet black and strangely matte, a perfect antitype of yours. There's a sort of lazy excitement about him, hidden in every movement. It reminds you of the way he'd behave in the arena, while making a spectacle of death for you and your family.

- I though this would work on you - he muses, twirling the blade in his hand, and your muscles seize with realization. - And it definitely works on me.

The idea is preposterous, utterly scandalous. Using a fight as some perverse attempt at foreplay, your brain swimms with conflicting emotions.

- You're being ridiculous - you attempt to diffuse the situation, but your husband doesn't budge, rolling his shoulders.

- Come on, wife - he snarls, with a sharp smirk - Don't you want to hurt me?

Something boils inside of you at his words. Some ancient, terrifying anger that you supposed, has always been there with you. From the moment you stepped onto the red carpet, leading you towards your undoing at the altar. Red, like the spilled blood still staining the floor of this bedroom. The rage, which you swallowed down, when you recited the vows, when you let him unveil your face, kiss you in front of the entire Atreides court. Now, it seeped through every pore in your skin, covering you in a tar like courtain.

You hate your husband. You hate Feyd Rautha, the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

Hate him for being your husband, for agreeing to this cruel match. For taking you away from your family, from your wise Father, and your strict Mother, and your sweet Brother. For ripping you away from love, which didn't even have time to properly bloom. Duncan's face dances in front of you like a taunting vision from an angry god, and your fingers tighten around the dagger.

Feyd Rautha is right. You want to hurt him. You wanted to, before you even met him.

- There you are - his lips pull back into a cruel, blackened smile of self-satisfaction - I was worried they took away all your venom, Viper.

You'll show him fucking venom, you think, feet sliding on the floor, twisting your body into a dancing position. Two sets of shields click into life, and suddenly you begin to understand.

This is your arena. This is your bull.

This will be your battlefield for the rest of your life, for as long as you're able to withstand it. With courage and grandiose, your Father's voice haunts you, but soon after another echo rises in your mind. Your Mother, your teacher, her whisper slithers from your memory, a passing comment right before you're shipped off to Giedi Prime, when she squeezed your hand so tight, you were worried tendons under your skin would snap.

Excitement and arousal flow freely from your husband's expression, as he watches yours harden. Something inexplicable settles over your features, a promise. You'll give him a fight of a lifetime, and he'll love it, every single time. It should unnerve you, the way his body lowers itself, like a panther ready to strike. It would've unnerved you some time ago.

Now, however, it shows you a clear path to survival. This is how you take control.

Cold blood splatters from under your feet, as you jump towards him, a series of measured blows following closely behind. He blocks them, lets some be pushed back by the shield. Then, he's on you, brutal and unhibited slashes fly around your body, and you meet all of them with a blocking blade. You're pushed back, towards the wall, where remains of the previous killing still stain the concrete. Blood seeps into the thin fabric on your body, and you shiver in disgust, as it sticks to you.

Your husband doesn't notice, his blade leaves a rather deep mark in the wall, as you duck under his arm, and avoid a nasty punch to the gut.

Plap, plap, plap, your feet carry you through the room, as you try to gain some leverage. The mattress on the bed is surprisingly soft, when you climb on top of it, gaining the advantage of a higher position. An advantage, which is quickly torn out of your hands, as your husband grabs onto your ankle, tugging at it with such force, you tumble down in an instant.

Panic rises in your gut, as the world sins around you, and without really thinking, you let your mind flow into autopilot.

- Let me go! - the Voice tears out of your throat like a landslide, and Feyd Rautha throws himself off of you, his body colliding with the nearby desk.

Books and papers crash to the floor with the force of his figure. Your head swimms, but you will it away, too focused on survival to care for your well-being. Both of you are panting, trying to recover from this sudden use of ancient magics.

- I should rip that treacherous tongue right out of your skull - the threat would carry more strength, if your husband's expression wasn't absolutely dripping with unabashed lust.

Never in your life has someone looked at you this way, and the shock of emotions is enough to pull you right to your feet. Your blade reflects the dim lights of the room, as you raise it high, body taunt and ready.

- You'll never get that close.

A challenge, which doesn't even have enough time to properly resound in the thick air of the room, before Feyd Rautha pushes himself off the desk. Things clatter to the ground from the force of his movements, and you barely have time to react, when his blade sinks into your shield. Your body flies backwards, falling in heap with his at the foot of your marital bed. The edge digs into your back, your left hand pressed tightly into the mattress.

He's hovering over you, panting like a wild animal, face illuminated red from below, where, just short of his juggular, your blade licks a stripe across his alabaster skin. His right hand is wedged between your bodies, dagger nicking you under your ribs. And you stay in this position, like a marble statue, your eyes melting into his, frozen in time.

- You fought well, Atreides - his voice rumbles deep within his chest, and you can't help, but snarl at his words. - We would've taken each other to an early grave.

Something dangerously close to fondness floods his features at the idea, and your fingers start to unravel, letting go of the dagger one by one. He doesn't have a chance to react, when your blade clatters to the floor, and your hand, now free, grabs the back of his head, pulling him down.

Your kiss opens the gates of hell, and soon, his own dagger is thrown across the room. You can't see, refuse to see, as your eyelids flutter closed. His lips are slightly chapped, but not any less delicious. Left hand thrashes in his hold, until he lets it go. Then, they both find purchase against his sharp cheekbones, and you hold him so tight, you might break his face with your ministrations.

- I knew it would work - he pants against your lips, you can hear the smile in every syllable.

- Shut the fuck up - you snarl, fingers digging deeper into his skin.

He groans into the kiss, immediately forcing his tongue into your mouth, as his hands work hard to manouver your legs open enough, for him to slot in between. Then, his touch is everywhere. On your legs, he drags the sheer fabric up and down your thighs, as he carresses your skin, blunt nails digging into the flesh of your hips. They venture upwards, to grab at your breasts, they fight their way into your hair, where he pulls and scrapes.

It doesn't matter, you think, when you hear the fabric tear, and the carefully chosen attire falls from your body. Nothing matters.

You're boneless and defenseless against this one insidious emotion, which carries your every move, which compells you to arch your back, to reveal your running pulse under his searching lips. Feyd Rautha bites down on your skin, right where your neck meets your shoulder, and you respond in kind, head descending upon his porcelain skin. He shudders under your teeth and tongue, his entire body tensing.

This is how you take control, and you've never felt so greedy.

His trousers aren't even fully off of his legs, when he enters you, clumsily and with urgency, bare feet sliding on the floor. Surprisingly inexperienced, he chases your core with his entire body, as if the heat of your insides in a completely foreign sensation.Your moan tears at the column of your throat, where his lips leave a trail of purple marks. The covers remains undisturbed, as your husband ruts into you, pressing your back harder against the edge of the bed. It's uncomfortable, it's hurtful, but somehow, it feels perfect for the two of you. Fucking like wild animals, not even able to make it onto the bed.

- I hate you - you repeat, like a mantra, broken voice cascading with every thrust. - I hate you, I ha-

Your head rolls backwards, when a particularly hard thrust nearly breaks you, but your husband is here to help, his hand grabbing the the roots of your hair, bringing your head down, so you can watch as he performs a magic trick of repeatedly disapearing into your body.

You're not sure who's blood his hand slips on, but suddenly, you're fully on the floor, your body crushed by his. Nothing stops his wild movements, not the sloppiness of it all, not the hard wails he tears from your body. If anything, the more strain his body is under, the more ferocious he's being. Your hand shoots up, all five fingers digging into his throat, and you're rewarded with an angelic moan, which almost brings you to your finish line. Almost.

His head leans down into the crook of your neck, where he whispers something in Harkonnen, a gurgle of rough sounds, interrupted by sinful moans. He sounds so beautiful, so conflicted, for a second you consider being gentle with him. Alas, you hate him still.

Another realization dawns upon you, as your feet kick with force into your husbands backside, to force him deeper, to keep him inside. This is still a fight. You're still on the battlefield, still waving a red flag in front of a raging bull. So, with courage and grandiose, your muscles tense, and you roll your husband over.

The change in position makes both of you gasp in unison, as you sink down onto him. For a second, everything stops. His lips are red and swollen, sweat and blood mix on his skin, flow down in pinkish stripes. And he watches you, as one would a holy painting of a foreign god. With reverence and utter lack of understanding. You're fully aware the look is mirrored on your face.

Slowly at first, your hips begin to rock, up and down, in a steady rhythm, that forces a shuddering breath to leave Feyd Rautha's lips. You bend down, to catch it, and because of your greed, you catch his bottom lip as well. The bite you give him is anything but romantic, and his hips jump from the floor, hitting a spot within you, you didn't know existed. He swallows your moan along with his own blood, and his fingertips map the curve of your spine, as you straighten upon him.

Fingernails latch themselves into the skin of his chest, as you speed up, chasing your own release and no one else's. Moans spill from your lips, the concept of shame abandoning your mind completely. Then, compelled by something dark and twisted you drag claw marks down his torso.

His body shudders, and his hips lift off the ground, fucking into you with reckless abandon. The hold he has on the flesh of your hips is bruising, to say the least, but you did enough damage to call it even. Enough, to make your body tremble and tense up, as climax creeps up on you steadily.

Like a shark sniffing for blood, he senses the change in your being, and as you tumble over the edge, a silent scream tearing at your throat, he suddenly rises into a seating position. His arms encircle you fully, pressing your sweaty bodies impossibly close, as he too finds his own end.

It takes him second, to tumble over, filling you to the brim with ink. His head buries itself into your shoulder, inhaling your scent through deep gasps, each eliciting a broken growl from his chest.

Your bones are gone completely, body relaxing and falling breathless into your husband's arms. After a while of sitting in complete stillness, he moves first. Strong hands lift you up, off of him, and you whine at the emptiness.

Then, as a last hurrah, he throws you onto the bed, where your recovering body sinks into the soft mattress. It's heavenly, the way you seem to float in nothingness, head swimming from exertion. For a moment you don't even register him climbing into the bed with you, drunk on the fading tension seeping from your every pore.

The lights are almost completely out, yet his skin shines against the black comforter. You wish to see if he's flushed, like he was at the engagement party. Leaning on one arm, his fingers trail around the small wound under your ribs. Dried blood flakes off of your skin, and you shudder again.

- I - you start, voice completely broken - I've never known hate, until I met you.

You're not sure why you've said it. Perhaps, in this moment of serenity, truth seems to float to the surface much more easily. Or perhaps you're possessed, or worse, gone completely insane. Eother way, your eyebrows furrow, and Feyd Rautha leans down to kiss your forehead, gently.

- If this is how your hate looks like - he whispers into your hairline, teeth scraping lightly against it - I dread to imagine your love.

You'll never find out, you think, but for some reason can't fully vocalize it.

He says something else, after a while, but your mind is becoming as heavy as your body, and as the day descends upon you in a heap of exhaustion, you fall asleep.

And while your story has nothing but suffering in the future, while there's death and mourning, and years of violence written in the stars for you. Right now, on the Harkonnen ship sailing through space to Giedi Prime, you sleep in the arms of your husband. Whether this strange symbiotic relationship will last, no one can tell, but there is hope, and what else could you possibly need?

#my writing #dune part 2 #dune x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #dune smut #what a journey my gosh #thank you once again for following the story love y'all

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kiame-sama · 1 month ago

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Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem! Reader) Monster AU pt 10

(Ruggie is a Gnoll and can switch between bipedal and quadruped locomotion as easily as most people breathe. Any scent of food or the sound of someone eating something draws in Ruggie to investigate to see if he can have a snack or get some scraps from whoever is eating. Leona is usually the one that feeds Ruggie the most, so he has earned Ruggie's loyalty. The fastest way to befriend a Gnoll is through food.)

Warnings; Yandere, Yandere behavior, multiple Yanderes at different Yandere stages/levels, Romantic and Platonic Yanderes, smothering behavior, blood, mention of menstrual cycle, blood consumption, Crow, Selkie, Sphinx, Shadow-man, Minotaur, Vampire bat, Dragon, Grim, Shinigami, Harpy,

Note; Ortho is STRICTLY platonic.

~~~~~~~~

It was dark and well before those first few rays of light were to peak over the horizon. It had been thirteen days since the Human had arrived in Twisted Wonderland and already a representative had arrived from at least seven different Kingdoms and Queendoms as well as a few scientists. Crowley had managed to convince them to wait a few more days, but the many Kingdoms and Queendoms were eager to confirm there was a Human and confirm they were being treated well.

The several staff members were sitting in the Crow's office as they all contemplated what to do with the arrival of the representatives. None of them wanted the Human taken away from them or from Night Raven College grounds. In the next few days they would have to ensure nothing harmed or unsettled their Human before the representatives arrived. This would prove difficult given the already obvious interest almost all of their students had taken in the abnormal Human.

That wasn't even the worst of their troubles, however.

"And you are certain our (Y/n) has imprinted on Grim?"

"Absolutely certain. She was stressed after waking from the injury and overblot, but she was more distressed over being unable to find Grim and only calmed once he was reunited with her. According to the other students she even threw young Riddle after he targeted Grim in his Feral state which is what lead to her injury."

"Then he can't be removed from her side any longer. My memories of Humans are old, but I do know Humans- especially the young bearers- take guarding those they imprint upon rather seriously. There will be questions to the potential threat Grim poses to (Y/n), he is a forest creature of unknown type and origin. We can't guarantee he is safe to keep around her, but we can't remove him either without a catastrophic response from (Y/n)."

Divus frowned at the memory, displeased to have not even a full week pass before the Human had been injured by a Feral student. Not to mention said Feral student was supposed to be the safest bet for a guard for the Human. Still, despite what had happened it had proved that the collar worked to some degree and that many of the student body was willing to protect the soft Human.

"In any case," Trein began, lifting his tea cup to take a long sip before setting back on the table, "there are several issues with her dorm that need to be addressed. Not to mention the fact that she has a rather limited wardrobe given her very recent arrival. The representatives will be looking at all of these things, from safety, to general happiness, to even her diet. If we are to keep her here, we will need to address everything before the representatives arrive."

Of course, most things were still being figured out as it had only been a little under two weeks since that fateful day. There was very little time now and they would have to pull several Housewardens from classes to aid in resolving these issues.

"I can handle the clothing issue, I will be pulling those two Pomefiore pups to aid in my pursuits. I have little doubt Vil and Rook will prove to be useful in my endeavors."

"Good idea. While you work on that, I can begin discussions with Mr. Ashengrotto as to the state of the building. Dubious as his dealings may be, he is a valuable resource."

Most issues they faced could be solved within the timeframe they had been presented with especially given the fondness their students had for the soft Human. The only issue that was most prevalent in that moment was the Dragon-sized problem of Malleus Draconia. He was a fantastic guard, but who knew how he would react to the idea of the representatives potentially trying to take this Human away from him and NRC.

"The question that remains is this; do we tell Birar Valley's prince and heir apparent to the throne Malleus, or do we try to keep him away from the representatives?"

Sam's question did bring up a very valid issue as they all knew Malleus had claimed their dear Human as a member of his Hoard. Dragons were notorious for having an ill temper towards anyone or anything that may threaten that Hoard. Beyond even the representatives, there were the many scientists from across the vast lands of Twisted Wonderland that wanted to get a good look at the Human and study her. Malleus would never allow such an intrusive and inquisitive bunch to poke or prod at his Human for long.

"Perhaps his handler can address that for us? Mr. Vanrouge has been quite adept at keeping Mr. Draconia peaceful despite a Dragon's natural temper and pride."

"Brilliant idea, Mozus. Ashton, you will be in charge of telling Mr. Vanrouge our plans and keeping him up to date with the impending arrival of our visitors. Sam, I trust you can handle the food situation? Shadowfolk are the next most culinary adept species after Humans."

Sam nodded, already looking at his own stock and comparing it with his most recent visit to (Y/n)'s kitchens. He would ensure to get a wider variety of spices and foods not typical to the broader student pallet, perhaps this Human could even surprise him in the kitchen. Despite the woefully short timeframe they had thanks to Cater's lack of discretion, it seemed like there was at least a chance at keeping the Human.

"Besides, if all else fails and they try to take her, we just set Mr. Draconia loose on them and they will either concede or fall."

~•§•~

You awoke to an unusual sensation on your neck. It was still dark outside but the faintest of light blue began to bleed into the sky as you slowly regained consciousness. The feeling on your neck was an odd one as it seemed like a mouth was nuzzled against your skin and slowly dragging a pair of soft lips over your pulse. Something about the almost unconscious movements confused you as you were usually the one cuddling, not the other way around.

The pair of black and pink wings told you who it was laying behind you and you vaguely wondered why Lilia had been drawn to your side as you slept. He had been the least problematic of your guards during your several days long stint with your own hormonal cycle, so you weren't particularly annoyed that he was holding you. Sure, the lack of personal space was wearing on you but supposedly your nestmates were going back to Diasomnia for the week.

In some ways you wondered if you would miss the group you had grown accustomed to and vaguely worried about getting to sleep without them. As odd as it was, there was a great comfort to having the four monsters sleeping by your side. You certainly never complained about the absolute warmth and comfort that was cuddling with Silver. Maybe you could convince one or two of the four to sleep in the nest whenever you felt lonely.

The soft growl of a stomach interrupted your thoughts as the sound had come from Lilia and you vaguely considered getting up to cook. It was far too early for your tastes, but something about the Bat's hunger made you feel on edge. Perhaps it was the way he unconsciously mouthed at your neck that gave you such an unsettled feeling. Perhaps it was the fact he had you wrapped up securely in his wings.

"Lilia," you whispered, trying to rouse the Bat without rousing your other nestmates, "you're getting a bit too nibbly there."

The Bat made an almost whining sound at your attempts to wake him, his wings tightening their hold around you and a soft mumble coming from him. You could feel his lips move against your neck more than you could hear him, unable to understand what he mumbled.

"Lilia-"

A startled yelp left your lips now as those pointed teeth of his dragged a bit too roughly against your neck for comfort. The sound rousing all of your nestmates rather quickly. You could see the way the eyes of the four men and one cat-beast snapped open and seemed to glow in the low light, reminding you of crocodiles, cats, and other predatory animals. It was surreal to see how quickly they woke as Lilia actually moved in a protective stance over you.

There was a moment of quiet as they took stock of their surroundings and their alert stress turned to confusion as they looked back at you. From their understanding, there was nothing they could find that could have caused you to cry out. You, however, were quick to touch your neck where the Bat had been mouthing and found he had not broken skin but the area he nipped was raised and irritated.

"(Y/n)," Lilia started, looking down at you as his wings lowered, "what's wrong?"

"You just bit me."

"Did I?"

Lilia seemed genuinely surprised at your words as he quickly examined where you had been touching your neck. Sure enough, there were two scrapes along where his fangs would have sat had he been mouthing the area. The hunger within him told him what information was missing as he sighed and moved from on top of you. He would have rathered you learn of his dietary needs in a less stress-inducing manner, but his own hunger had unconsciously acted for him.

"I'm sorry, (Y/n). It seems my instincts were getting the better of me."

"Instincts?"

"I'm what we call a Vampire Bat Fae, unlike many other Bat folk, my kind has a certain... Dietary need that we have to satisfy once in a while."

"Satisfy how?"

"I need blood. Specifically I need to drink blood. Usually Silver helps me with this 'craving' but even Malleus or Sebek have offered in the past."

"Like... From a cup?"

"No, the blood coagulates and clots too quickly in a cup. I have to drink from the source or the blood needs an anticoagulant- which rarely tastes good- for me to consume it from a cup."

You stared at the Bat Fae as he explained his actions to you, almost seeming upset with himself. They made enough sense that you vaguely wondered why he would keep such a thing secret from you. Vampire Bats existed in your world and though you weren't overly familiar with the species you knew even the little Bats of your world needed to consume blood.

"Why were you only at my neck then?"

"Well, as morbid as it may sound, your blood has a very appealing scent to me. I assume I unconsciously gravitated towards you due to your recent- and pardon me for saying this- bleeding cycle. The lingering scent of blood on you likely drew me in."

Some part of you wanted to snap at the Bat for trying to bite you, even if it was unconscious. Another part of you wanted to allow the hungry Bat to take a quick drink despite your reservations as a way to somewhat repay him. Lilia had been your original chosen guard and he had more than earned his keep given how many students and poachers alike he had driven off. Perhaps the Bat did deserve something for his efforts in protecting you.

"How much do you need?"

"A mouthful or two. Luckily I don't need to feed on blood often or in large amounts, just every now and again to make up the vitamins I can't gain from my food."

"... Do you want to drink my blood?"

"Not if it makes you uncomfortable. You are proving to be quite precious to me and an integral part of this Hoard, I would hate to drive you off for something as simple as blood."

You considered his words for a moment, staring at him as your hand rest over your neck where he had scraped his fangs against you. Sure, you just lost a good level of blood already thanks to your cycle, but maybe you could let the Bat take just a bit more. Out of those who seemed to gravitate towards you, Lilia had been the most reliable and the one to explain quite a bit to you when you didn't understand the ways of these monster men.

"... Will it make you happy?"

"What?"

"To feed on my blood. Would that make you happy and help you be content with your life?"

Lilia stared for a long moment, as if trying to figure out what exactly you were asking him. He did worry about saying the wrong thing if you were testing him for aggressive thoughts or behavior, but part of his brain insisted that he be honest with you.

"Yes. It will make me happy, but I still don't need to feed specifically from you if you are uncomfortable with that. Would I like to? Absolutely. I would consider myself somewhat of a gourmand when it comes to the taste of blood and your blood is very interesting to me. Would I take if it wasn't offered? I would try not to, but we both see how my instincts control the way I unconsciously act."

"Will it hurt?"

"Not horribly. I won't lie to you and say it is painless, but it is not as painful as an axe in the arm."

You almost snorted at this response, still feeling the dullest of throbs from your recently healed injury. Really, you had been so stressed and upset over potentially losing Grim that you barely felt any pain until it was already over and even then you were given pain management. At least Lilia didn't seem keen to lie to you about it.

"... Go ahead."

"(Y/n)?"

"Take a drink, Lilia. Either we all get up now so you can find blood somewhere else, or I give you blood now and I can get a few more hours of sleep."

"I want to make sure you are serious, (y/n). I don't want this to be a spur of the moment decision."

"I know. I am serious. Take a drink, Lilia. You're probably the one I would consider to be one of my first friends and you haven't complained even once about my attitude. That matters to me and is important to me. You are important to me."

Lilia gave a genuine smile at this, hugging you quickly. He had hoped you would be willing to share some of your sweet smelling blood with him and your approval now could mean you would let him take more drinks in the future. Naturally, Lilia didn't plan to force you to share with him, but he certainly wasn't upset you were willing to let him take a drink.

"Let me know if it hurts too much and I will stop. Okay?"

You nodded, staying still as the Bat moved behind you in a mimicry of how you had awoken. His wings wrapping around you as if he intended to cuddle you as he rest his mouth over your pulse. It was unnerving in some way to think about letting the Bat latch on to your neck and consume your blood, but you were being honest when you said his wellbeing mattered to you. Lilia was a good guard and a good friend despite everything that had happened.

"Hey, Bat-wings, don't hurt my Hooman, okay? I'm not gonna lose her, no matter what, so you better be careful."

"I know. I will try to not harm her."

Grim nodded, still seeming stressed with the situation as Lilia hummed. The Bat had easily found the ideal spot to bite, but he seemed to be taking his time either to try and soothe you or to make sure he has control of himself before actually biting. It would be a lie to say you didn't tense up somewhat when those fangs teased your skin.

"Child of man, if you need a distraction or to be soothed, I am content to speak with you."

"I- ah!"

You yelped again as those fangs sunk in and the bat began to nurse at the wound gently. He was clearly trying to be as gentle as possible and not move too much or drink too quickly as it would move his fangs in your skin. It was not pleasant by any means but you trusted Lilia to not take more than he needed.

"I think- ngh- I think you need a new name, Malleus."

"Is my current one insufficient?"

"No, I just think- ah- you could use a nickname. Something short and- and not so lofty."

"If that will appease you. I am eager to know what name you believe fits me most."

"Like M-Mal or Tsuno, or-!"

You fought to keep your hands from reaching up to where Lilia nuzzled against your neck, your own instincts upset with you at allowing such a creature to bite you. It was vaguely disturbing to feel the way he pulled back, his fangs sliding out of your neck with a little too much ease. His warm tongue made quick work of licking over the wound to catch whatever else spilled out as he wasn't keen to waste the delicious flavor.

"I am somewhat partial to Tsuno, perhaps Tsunotaro?"

"... The point of a nickname is to be shorter than your actual name. Tsunotaro is longer than Malleus."

"Tsuno works. As close to my name as Mal is, a new name certainly wouldn't be amiss."

Lilia hummed and used his magic to summon what appeared to be a bandage of some kind. He happily set to work cleaning and covering up the bite-mark as you tried to keep yourself focused on your conversation with Malleus. It was odd to be a blood-bag for the unusual Bat and to be somewhat bullying a literal Dragon into letting you give him a nickname, but your life has been odd since you woke in the coffin.

For now, it wasn't too much of a weight to bear.

~•§•~

The early morning meeting was well underway as it was akin to a mulligan from their meeting several days ago. Again, the Dragon was invited to the meeting and again the two dorm leaders of Ignihyde showed up to make the switch. Given the earlier meeting between the staff members, this hand-off needed to go without a hitch. Almost everyone was stressed as the Dragon walked into the room, his cloak sweeping behind him as his fellow guards walked the treasure they protected into the room as well.

You seemed tired, but still dressed in your uniform as you held Grim close to your chest. He was happily laying in your arms and snacking on what remained of the breakfast burrito you had thrown together that morning for breakfast. The scent drew a few jealous looks, but word of Grim's importance to you travelled quickly. Even Leona knew better than to try and bully the little cub-like monster out of his meal, lest the cub's mother react poorly.

For some of the Housewardens, seeing this odd creature was still a very surreal experience as she was an extinct species so casually attending their school. For one of them, it was his first time officially meeting the Human face to face. Idia really didn't consider the small amount of time spent in the Human's dorm as an official meeting and he was somewhat hoping the Human didn't remember his panicked sprint into her kitchen. He hoped the other Housewardens that had also sprinted to her dorm distracted from him as he wanted a mostly clean slate for their official meeting.

"Good morning, my precious little chick! Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough. Do we really have to switch out who lives in the dorms with me? I just got used to these guys..."

"Yes, we really do. Besides, it isn't all bad, the Housewardens were chosen for a reason and I have faith you will be protected! It's the Housewardens and teachers that are notified by your collar in the situation you are injured or attacked, you can trust them to protect you."

"If you say so..."

Your less than excited attitude towards the situation put your faithful Dragon on edge as well as several of the other Housewardens. They all wanted a chance to get to know you and be around you, only really knowing your species through rumor and myth, but they didn't want to cause you genuine distress. Idia was especially unnerved as he wanted to make your acquaintance and be your friend despite his severe lacking of social skills. He had hoped Ortho would be a good buffer as his younger brother was much more cheerful than he was.

"Don't worry, Nee-san! Nii-san and I will make sure you are safe and feel comfortable while we guard you!"

"I'm sure you will..."

"Oh, Nee-san, this is Idi-nii! My big brother."

Idia almost ran the moment your eyes landed on him and actually looked at him the way he looked at you so often through the many cameras he had around NRC. You could see him and perceive him where he had been the only one to see and perceive in the past. Always watching, yet never watched until now.

"Eep! She's looking at me... What do I do? Ortho, help!"

"Introduce yourself, silly!"

"I'm... Idia Shroud... Ortho's big brother and Housewarden of Ignihyde... Why is this so hard?"

"You're doing fine, Idi-nii."

He almost screamed as you walked over to him, looking at his bright flaming hair and making him want to sink into the chair or disappear behind a screen once more. As you observed him and the way he squirmed under your gaze, Vil scoffed loudly.

"I knew he didn't have it in him. He can't even talk to us, why would anyone think he can talk to her? Does anyone genuinely think Idia could even fight when push comes to shove?"

"Hey," you interrupted with a frown, seeing as Idia wouldn't argue with Vil regardless of what Vil said or did, "leave him alone. He is here, isn't he? That's more than most could say. You can act the act and talk the talk, but why do you feel the need to put him down? Does it make you feel better to know you can easily do something he struggles with?"

Vil scoffed again and looked away from you, wanting to argue with you but also wanting to stay in your good graces. Despite how Vil felt the others had no right to be in your presence, he wasn't going to drive you away from himself by speaking his mind. The actor knew better than to speak until he had you alone and held within his own talons.

"You really don't have to do that... It's the way they all act with me. You don't-"

"Don't care."

"Ghk-!"

"Just because you let them treat you that way doesn't mean I will let them treat you that way. You're my new guard for the week and you're a Housewarden, right? So, screw what they think. You have a right as much as they do. Besides, my talk with Ortho leads me to believe you are more useful to me than a lot of others could be."

"H-how?"

"I want to play videogames. I loved my videogames back in my world. It feels like no one else plays and I want to play even for just a little bit. It is easier to stave off the feeling of pressure and the stressors of life with a controller or keyboard in hand. Help me forget I am somewhere far from home, okay?"

Idia slightly perked up at this, hearing you talk about using videogames to escape certain aspects of life. He had done it himself so many times that he almost began to believe he was alone in this avoidant behavior because it seemed like everyone else didn't need that escape the same way he did.

"You... Game?"

"Yes, and I have been twelve or thirteen days and counting without playing. This makes me incredibly upset. I have classes today, so I can't play right now, but I would like to have access to a gaming system even if this cursed place doesn't have the games I'm used to. Can you help me with that?"

"Yes."

"Good, then we have nothing else to worry about right now. Right?"

Idia nodded, beginning to feel unusually comfortable now that he knew what it was you expected of him. It really wasn't a big ask at all and Idia had already been planning on setting up more than a few devices in your dorm. He figured it would help to keep him comfortable outside of his room and keep Ortho entertained. Neither Idia nor Ortho needed much sleep and their species was prone to spending days awake, so he wanted to make sure he and his little brother could have entertainment while you slept.

"Right. Ortho and I don't have classes today, so we can get things set up right away."

"Alright. That is what I like to hear. Can I reasonably assume things will be ready by the time my last class is over, or should I lower my expectations for getting in some gaming today?"

"I can have everything ready and set up in no time. If you wanted, you could cut out of half your classes today and start gaming before lunch."

You smiled in response to his words and for some reason it made his heart flip wildly in his chest. He liked seeing that gentle and almost sweet smile, liking it even more now that it was directed at him. Sure, he had seen it through the visor Ortho wore while you talked to the young Shinigami, but it was a whole new experience being face-to-face with you now.

"Music to my ears. Last question; what kind of foods do you like? I will be cooking for myself so I will also cook for you if you want, but I'm not a mind-reader and I have no idea what is safe for you and Ortho to eat. Especially Ortho."

"Wh-what? You're gonna cook traditional Human meals for us? Seriously?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I feed those who are protecting me?"

"This is the best day of my entire 88 year fanboy life..!"

"What?"

"Nothing. Ortho and I are gonna go set up. See you after class."

Despite how nervous Idia had been, there was something disarming about the soft Human. He was quite large in comparison to their stature, standing well above most in the school despite wishing to just disappear in the background. Even sitting he had to look down at the little Human.

Something about how soft she looked made him want to grab her and never let go, he was starting to understand why the others were acting the way they did. Something about being close to someone he considered incredibly cute and small was endearing. Actually being near this soft Human made him realize just how little she was.

"I don't know, Hooman. This one has a kinda funny look to him."

"Grim, be nice. We have to at least trust the Headmage is correct in everyone here being safe."

"Fine... But I'm not sharing the nest with him!"

"Oh, absolutely not. Malleus made that nest and only his Hoard is allowed to use it, you know that. Lilia told us the rules."

"Am I part of Tsuno's Hoard too?"

"You're part of my hoard," you kissed Grim's forehead gently and several of the onlookers felt burning jealousy, "so you count by Proxy."

Grim purred at this and you turned back to the Shinigami. He was very much an older and larger version of Ortho in terms of appearance, but obviously very different from his bold and affable little brother. Also, you heard his mumbling quite easily and that meant he was seventy-five years older than Ortho. That meant either Ortho was very smart and advanced for his young age or Idia just couldn't attend a school without someone else accompanying him.

You had also never seen this student around except for the brief passing glance when he entered your dorm several days back with the others. It was odd to you that he really didn't stand out much to you back then like he did now, but you also weren't really in the mood to entertain guests at the time. Much like Ortho, Idia had more technology on him than most students had at all and he seemed to be almost hiding behind it as he suddenly turned away in his chair seeming to try and compose himself while looking away from you and somewhat out of your sight.

It was while he was turned away that a voice unfamiliar to you spoke up.

"Crowley? It's imperative I speak with you-"

Walking into the room was a bird-man that somewhat reminded you of an owl entered the room, pausing abruptly as he noticed you staring at him curiously. He seemed to be an older Harpy man judging from his feathers and general bird-like appearance, several gray feathers grew alongside his hair and came up in two points like ears. The man seemed taken aback at your presence as he slowly set the scrolls in his hands down, seeming to study you closely as you watched him warily.

"In... In all my years... Here you are."

He gestured to you and you felt more than a little upset at the treatment. Sure, you understood they were surprised but that still didn't mean it felt very good to have someone gawk at you. You weren't a pet and you weren't some sideshow attraction.

"Here you are."

"Ambrose! This kind of casual disregard for decorum is unlike you! Explain yourself!"

Crowley was quick to get inbetween you and the newcomer, his feathers fluffed and wings somewhat raised. It was clear the Crow was blocking this Owl-man from taking too long a look at you as his wings spread and he almost seemed to caw angrily.

"Crowley, my old friend," the man paused, glancing at you and almost grimacing, "more have been spotted in the woods. It's not just trophy hunters, there are Fae among them. Townsfolk are starting to talk and the rumors at Royals Sword Academy are more than a little wild. We need to unite and discuss the-" he lowered his voice, "the Human."

"This meeting is dismissed, students. Everyone make sure to get to your classes. (Y/n), my chick, do you need a guide to class from here?"

You were about to shake your head when Vil came sweeping over, his crest up and his movements almost an exaggerated graceful motion. He seemed to be trying to show off in a way as if the presence of the two other birds made him suddenly need to present himself. It could have been your perception of the situation, but Vil almost seemed threatened by the increased avian competition and was keen to get you away from both older birds.

"I will happily show you to class, (Y/n). My class is right nearby, so I will gladly show you the way. Come now, we can't dawdle."

The Peacock was quick to herd you away from the room and the other Housewardens, ignoring the look Malleus gave him as he passed by. You wondered who that man was or what it was he was so worried about, but you knew it had something to do with you. Those games and potential earthly comforts you may be able to get from Idia seemed all the more tangible now.

All you had to do now was get through the day.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #yandere monster #twst au #twst monster au #Humans Are Extinct TWST AU

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lizzieolseniskinda · 1 month ago

Text

TOM RIDDLE - soulmates don’t exist PT. 5

SDE MASTERLIST - FEM!reader (POC!reader)

SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?

WORD COUNT: 7618

GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)

CONTENT WARNING: soulmate & time travel au, english is not my first language

After dinner more students came walking in, also trying to get ahead of their studies they had to do. You were sitting hunched over a stack of divination books, feeling more lost with each page you flipped through. Tea leaves, crystal balls, and other things were starting to feel like utter gibberish to you.

Ben sat across from you, lazily flipping through a copy of ‘Unfogging the Future’, looking bored as ever. Next to you was Cressida, her brow furrowed in intense concentration as she read through your notes. Both of them had long forgotten about their DADA work.

“This is impossible,” you groaned, rubbing your temples. “How is anyone supposed to ‘see the future’ in a cup of tea leaves? They all look the same to me.”

Cressida looked up from her notes, a sympathetic smile on her face. “It’s all about interpretation, Y/n. You’re not really seeing the future—it’s more like... reading symbols and trusting your instincts.”

You sighed, not feeling particularly comforted by that explanation. “I don’t think I have the right instincts for this.”

Ben leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as he observed your struggle with mild amusement. “I’m starting to think Divination is less about predicting the future and more about seeing how many students can predict their own failure,” he said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, pushing the book away slightly. “Right! I just don’t get it. How am I supposed to see something in a teacup?”

Cressida laughed softly, scooting her chair closer to yours. “Okay, let’s break this down a bit. What are you supposed to be studying for this week’s lesson? Something about dream interpretations, right?”

You nodded, pulling out another crumpled piece of parchment with your notes. “Yeah, dreams and omens. We have to analyze a dream and interpret what it means, but I’m hopeless at it. My last one was apparently too ‘mundane.’”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “Too mundane? What was it about, rabbits hopping in a meadow or something?”

You snorted. “Close. I said it was about losing my shoes in the middle of a forest.”

Ben grinned, clearly amused. “Well, I can see why that wouldn’t impress Onai. Sounds like a real catastrophe.”

Cressida, however, looked thoughtful. “Wait, losing your shoes… Professor Onai always talks about symbolism. Maybe the shoes represent something—like protection, or grounding. And losing them means you’re vulnerable or unprepared for something.”

You blinked, surprised by how easily Cressida came up with that explanation. “You’re a natural at this. Maybe you should be taking Divination instead of me.”

Cressida smiled, a little flattered. “I’ve just read enough of this nonsense to know what they’re all looking for.”

Ben leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Alright, what if we make up something properly dramatic? Say you dreamed of falling into a dark pit filled with snakes. Or better yet, you saw a tower collapsing, and you were trapped inside.”

Cressida giggled, and you shook your head, though you couldn’t help but smile. “Professor Onai would love that, I’m sure.”

“I’m serious!” Ben said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Tell her the tower represents Hogwarts, and the snakes are obviously Slytherin. You’re predicting a major catastrophe involving the school—maybe a rival house betrayal or something.”

“Yeah, and then she’ll probably assign me extra work to prevent this disaster,” you said dryly, though the idea was starting to sound more and more plausible.

Cressida, still chuckling softly, reached over to your notes and scribbled something down. “Okay, how about we meet in the middle? You dreamt you were lost in a maze, with mist swirling all around you. Every path leads you to different choices, but none of them feel right. Then, just before you wake up, you see a figure at the center of the maze, but you can’t reach them.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking over the notes she’d written. “And that means…?”

“Uncertainty about your future, perhaps. The figure represents some unresolved aspect of your life, maybe even something you’re afraid of or trying to avoid.” Cressida explained, her voice soft but confident.

Ben nodded, impressed. “That’s actually pretty good, C. I’d buy it.”

You glanced between the two of them, grateful for their help. “Alright, thanks. I’ll use that. At least it sounds more mystical than my shoe fiasco.”

Ben flipped the page of his book with a dramatic flair, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. “It’s all guesswork, really. Professor Onai just likes to act as though it’s some mystical art when half the time she’s just making things up. Here, can you try this? I wanna see.” He slid a page of the book toward you, pointing to a section with interpretations of tea leaves.

You glanced at it, reading over the different shapes and symbols.

“Right,” you muttered, staring blankly at the page. “So, what if I see something that looks like... I don’t know, a blob? Or just random dots? Does that mean I’m doomed?”

Ben snorted, trying to suppress a laugh. “In that case, you could probably get away with saying it’s a ‘fog of uncertainty’ and that the future is still unclear. Sounds mysterious enough, doesn’t it?”

You looked between the two of them, part of you wanting to laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing was. “So, I just have to bluff my way through it?”

Cressida rolled her eyes, “Ben’s not entirely wrong, though,” she admitted, pushing her Divination notes toward you. “The trick is to sound confident, even if you have no idea what you’re saying. Professor Onai eats that up. If you act like you’re seeing something profound, she’ll believe you.”

Ben leaned forward, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Exactly. Bluff your way through like a true Seer. If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll ‘predict’ something dramatic, and they’ll be impressed.”

You groaned, resting your forehead on the table. “This is hopeless. I can’t even read a dumb tea leaf.”

Cressida chuckled softly, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. “It’s not hopeless. Divination just... takes a different mindset. It’s not like Charms or Transfiguration where everything’s logical and concrete. It’s more about intuition, like Ben said. You’re probably overthinking it.”

You turned your head to look at her, half-convinced she was right. But it was hard to shake the feeling that this was all just guesswork. “I guess I’m just not used to the idea of relying on intuition. I like things to make sense.”

Ben grinned, leaning back in his chair once again, clearly enjoying your frustration. “Then you’ll love this next bit. In palmistry,” he said, flipping through his book until he found the right page, “you can tell someone’s life expectancy just by looking at how long their lifeline is.”

“Is that actually real?” you asked, frowning in disbelief.

Ben raised his eyebrows, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smirk. “No. Not really, well, I don’t think so. But it doesn’t stop people from believing it. See? Divination’s all about confidence.”

Cressida shot him a playful look. “You’re supposed to be helping, not making her more confused.”

“I am helping,” Ben protested, though the grin on his face said otherwise. He looked back at you, his expression softening. “Alright, alright. If you really want to get through this, here’s a tip: go for the vague predictions. No one can prove them wrong. Something like... ‘I sense a great change in the future,’ or ‘Someone close to you will make an important decision.’ People cannot get enough of that stuff.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I think I can manage that.”

Cressida beamed at you. “See? You’ll be fine! You’ve just got to let yourself relax into it.”

She pulled out a teacup from her bag—she’d clearly come prepared to study for every class tonight—and set it on the table. “Here, why don’t we practice? I can help you read the leaves.”

Ben groaned dramatically but leaned in nonetheless, curiosity getting the better of him. “Oh, this ought to be good. I want to hear Y/n’s grand prophecy.”

You shot the Ravenclaw a mock glare but picked up the cup anyway, swirling the tea leaves around before setting it back down. You and Cressida leaned in together to look at the patterns in the bottom of the cup.

“Alright,” Cressida said softly, squinting at the leaves. “What do you see?”

You frowned, staring at the scattered leaves, trying to make sense of the shapes. “Uh... a black dot?”

Ben burst out laughing silently, and even Cressida couldn’t stifle her giggles.

“Well… that’s one way to start,” Cressida said, still smiling. “But look closer—see those two leaves here? They’re almost in the shape of a circle. That could mean something positive. Good fortune, maybe.”

You leaned in closer, nodding slowly. “Okay, I can kind of see that. And what about... this one? It looks like a little snake.”

Cressida’s eyes lit up. “A snake usually means some kind of betrayal. But it could also mean transformation—like shedding old skin. It depends on how you want to interpret it.”

Ben shook his head, still grinning. “So, you’ve got good fortune and betrayal in your future. How exciting.”

You felt your stomach turn. “Great. My future is a complete mess.”

Cressida nudged you playfully. “It’s all in how you frame it. You can make anything sound meaningful if you try hard enough.”

After a few more rounds of guessing at symbols and laughing at the absurdity of it all, you felt a little less overwhelmed by the idea of Divination. It still wasn’t your favorite subject, but with Ben and Cressida’s help, you were starting to see how you could at least survive the class without making a complete fool of yourself.

Ben closed his book with a snap, stretching his arms above his head. “Alright, I think that’s enough ‘seeing the future’ for one evening. My brain hurts.”

Cressida giggled, shaking her head at him. “You’re hopeless, Ben.”

He winked at her, then looked over at you with a more genuine smile. “But seriously, Y/n—you’ll be fine. Just remember, no one really knows what’s going to happen. So, if you sound like you do, you’re already ahead of the game.”

You smiled back, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. “Thanks, both of you. I don’t think I’d survive Onai’s class without your help.”

Cressida beamed, and Ben just shrugged nonchalantly, though you could tell he was pleased.

“No problem,” he said, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Just don’t forget us when you become the next great Seer.”

You laughed as you gathered your books, feeling lighter than you had all week.

After almost half an hour of extra studying for divination, you finally closed the last book with a satisfied thud. Ben and Cressida had transitioned seamlessly into their DADA revision, spreading out an assortment of books and parchment on the table.

"How are you still going?" you asked, stifling a yawn as you stretched. "I’m pretty sure my brain stopped working an hour ago.”

Cressida sighed, “We’ve still got a bit to cover for tomorrow’s class, but you’ve earned a break.”

Ben raised an eyebrow at you as he doodled lazily in the margins of his Charms textbook. "Or, you know, you could stay and suffer with us. Strength in numbers.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you gathered the Divination books scattered across the table. "I’ll pass, sorry buddy. I’m going to put these back before Madam Pince hunts me down for leaving them out. And maybe find something for Astronomy tomorrow”

Ben, leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed, smirked at you. “Don’t get lost in the stars tomorrow, Y/n. Though, if you do, I’ll make sure Professor Onai knows you had a cosmic fate awaiting you.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Thanks, Ben. I’ll keep that in mind.”

With the books balanced in your arms, you turned and made your way across the library, your steps echoing softly against the stone floor. The shelves were standing tall, casting long shadows in the dim light. You made your way through the aisles, heading toward the section that housed Divination text books.

Sliding the last book back into its place, you turned, intending to find the Astronomy section. After passing almost ten rows of books in alphabetical order, you wanted to curse Hogwarts for putting ‘A’ in the back of the library.

The section of astronomy was dimly lit, tucked in a corner where fewer students ventured at this hour. You found yourself browsing slowly, eyes gliding over the ancient-looking volumes when a voice broke the silence, startling you. You reached out to pull an Astronomy book from the shelf in front of you, but before you could fully distract yourself in the book, a voice cut through the quiet, low and cold.

“It’s rude to stare.”

You jumped at the sound of someone behind you. The book you were trying to take was nearly knocked off the shelf. Tom was standing right beside you, how you couldn’t notice or even feel his presence was weird. His dark eyes locked onto yours with an unsettling intensity.

Had you been staring? You weren’t quite sure when, but you were sure of the shiver that ran down your spine when he appeared out of thin air next to you.

“Excuse me?” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though the proximity and suddenness of his appearance had thrown you off balance. “I wasn’t staring,” you replied, sounding as casual as you could, trying to keep your hand steady as you slid the book you had taken back into place.

“You and your friends watch me like I’m some kind of puzzle you’re trying to solve.” He stepped closer, the edge of his robe brushing against your arm as his voice lowered to a murmur.

Tom tilted his head, his gaze unwavering. “Lucas. He glares at me constantly. It’s not subtle, you know.”

Tom’s gaze softened just a fraction, though the smile that curved his lips was still unsettlingly cold. “It’s flattering, in a way, that you think you can figure me out. But don't waste your energy. There are better ways to spend your time.”

You blinked, feeling a cold weight settle in your stomach. How had he noticed? You’d tried to be discreet, observing him from time to time, but you hadn’t realized he was so acutely aware of both your and Lucas’s attention.

The silence between you stretched thin, tension humming in the air. You could feel the weight of his attention, and despite every instinct telling you to look away, you couldn’t. It was as though his presence drew you in, locking you in place.

“What is it about me that interests you so much?” Tom asked, his voice quiet but sharp, cutting through the space between you.

Your mouth went dry, this was the first time you’d hear his voice outside of class. Lucas was right about one thing - this guy was a big teacher’s pet. . “I don’t—” You shook your head, trying to find your footing in the conversation. “I’m not… interested.”

That almost-smile returned, but there was no warmth in it. “You think I don’t notice when people watch me? I see and hear everything.” He took a step closer to you, and though it was subtle, it made the space between you feel suffocating. “I find it curious.”

You swallowed, forcing yourself to stand your ground. “I’m not watching you, Riddle.”

Tom raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “No? Then what is it, exactly? You are… different, ever since you arrived. People are curious about you, its almost made me curious about you.”

“I’m just trying to focus on my studies,” you said, your voice sounding much steadier than you felt. “There’s nothing…” you trailed off, wishing this conversation could just end now.

Tom’s expression remained unreadable, his lips curling ever so slightly into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Do I make you nervous, L/n?” His voice was so smooth and calculated.

You almost stopped breathing. He knew your name. Of course he did—he was observant, always watching, always listening. Or maybe it was because you were ‘new’. But it still caught you off guard, hearing him say it aloud, as if he was testing how it sounded. It almost made you want to melt.

You cleared your throat, trying to steady yourself. “No,” you lied, hoping the word didn’t sound as shaky as it felt. “I just didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

Tom’s gaze didn’t waver, his eyes studying you as if he were searching for something beyond the surface. “And yet, here we are.”

“It’s only a matter of time before I find out what makes you so different.”

Before you could muster any sort of reply, Tom straightened his posture even more, his eyes glancing briefly down the aisle before locking with yours again.

“Oh, and you’re coming with me to the Slug Club party as my date.”

Your mind blanked. “What?”

But Tom had already turned away, walking briskly toward the exit of the library without another word, leaving you standing there in stunned silence.

He didn’t even wait for your response, didn’t even give you the chance to argue. It was as if he had decided for both of you, and that was that.

You stood there, still clutching the Astronomy book in your hands, your heart racing and your mouth parted slightly. Tom’s parting words echoed in your head, sending a ripple of confusion and unease through you.

As his tall figure disappeared from view, you blinked, finally finding your voice—too late, of course. “Wait, what?”

But the only response was the soft rustle of parchment and the quiet crackling of candle flames in the distant corners of the library.

You turned away from the rows of books and walked back toward the table where Ben and Cressida were still engrossed in their DADA study materials. The earlier encounter with Tom had left you in a whirl of thoughts and emotions, but you pushed it aside for now, focusing on your friends.

“I’m going to head back to the common room. It’s almost curfew, and the library closes an hour before.”

Ben glanced at his watch, then at Cressida. “You’re right. We should probably get going too; we can finish up the last bit of our notes in the morning.”

“Good call,” Cressida agreed, gathering her things as you slid into your seat to help them pack up.

As you collected your scattered parchment and books, you couldn’t shake the conversation with Tom from your mind. The casual way he’d announced that you were going to the Slug Club party, as if you didn’t have a choice, left you feeling unsettled. You hadn’t even gotten a chance to respond.

You were kind of glad, it seemed as if you didn’t have to do anything to get close to Riddle. Maybe this task could work that Dumbledore gave you.

Once finished, you waved goodbye to your two new friends and left the library, stepping into the cool hallway of Hogwarts. The castle felt eerily quiet at this hour, the only sound being the soft echo of your footsteps against the stone floor and some students who were lingering around. You navigated the winding corridors, the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower comforting in its predictability.

After saying the password to the Fat Lady, you stepped into the Gryffindor common room a familiar warmth washed over you. The cozy fire crackled in the hearth, casting a soft orange glow that made the red and gold accents of the room even more inviting. It was a huge comfort after the strange encounter. Your mind still whirled with confusion—his words, his tone—but you pushed it to the back of your mind, not wanting to dwell on it now.

You spotted Lucas sitting with a few other boys. While Maeve, Lilith and Alicia were sitting on one of the large, cushioned sofas near the fire, talking and laughing with a small group of other Gryffindors. Maeve, with her infectious energy, was gesturing animatedly, while Alicia leaned in, clearly amused by whatever story was being told. It was a scene of easy camaraderie, one that made you feel a bit lighter just watching.

“Y/n! Come join us!” she called, scooting over on the sofa to make room.

You hesitated for a moment, thinking about heading upstairs to the dormitory to mull over the day, but then decided against it. Maybe what you needed wasn’t to be alone with your thoughts—maybe what you needed was a distraction. Something normal, something that reminded you that despite the strange and unsettling things happening, you were still just a student at Hogwarts.

So, you made your way over to where Lilith, Maeve and Alicia sat.

You smiled and slid into the open spot next to Alicia, feeling the warmth of the fire on your face. “What are you guys talking about?”

Maeve smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Alicia's just been telling everyone how she ‘accidentally’ lit her cauldron on fire in Potions today.”

Alicia gave an exaggerated huff, crossing her arms. “It was not my fault. The instructions were so vague! How was I supposed to know the boomslang skin needed to be chopped and not sliced? Slughorn didn't even seem surprised.”

Everyone laughed, including you. Being around Maeve and Alicia always had a way of making things feel lighter, less complicated.

“At least you didn’t blow up the entire classroom,” you teased, nudging her shoulder. “Could’ve been worse.”

“Oh, don’t tempt fate,” Maeve said with a grin. “She’s bound to do that next.”

“Honestly, Slughorn should give you extra credit for keeping him on his toes,” one of the other Gryffindors, a boy named Colin, chimed in. “He looked half-asleep before you spiced things up.”

Alicia laughed. “Maybe I’ll make a habit of it. Keep everyone entertained during Potions class.”

Lilith shook her head with a fond smile. “You’ll give the poor man a heart attack.”

The conversation flowed easily after that, and you found yourself relaxing into the warmth of the common room, letting the laughter and chatter distract you from the strange events of the past few days. It felt nice, this small escape from the growing complexity of your life at Hogwarts—just sitting with your friends, enjoying the simple pleasures of shared stories and jokes.

“Anyone up for a round of Exploding Snap?” Colin asked, pulling out a deck of cards with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Maeve clapped her hands together. “Absolutely. I’m in.”

Alicia raised an eyebrow at you, a knowing smile on her face. “What about you, Y/n? Feel like playing, or are you going to sneak off to the library again?”

You grinned, shaking your head. “I think I’ve had enough of the library for one day. Count me in.”

The cards were dealt, and soon enough, the table was filled with laughter and shouts as the game began.

The Great Hall buzzed with its usual morning energy as students filed in for breakfast, the long house tables laden with all sorts of delicious food. You slid into a spot between Maeve and Alicia, nodding a quick greeting to Lucas, who was already halfway through a slice of toast. Across from you, Ben was deep in conversation with Cressida, though from the smirk on his face, it looked like their discussion was more playful than serious.

“Morning!” Maeve chirped, her curly dark hair bouncing as she waved excitedly. "You look like you slept through the night for once!”

You laughed, shrugging as you reached for some pumpkin juice. "Guess I needed it after all that Divination nonsense last night. Thanks again for the help.”

“You needed help with Divination?” Lucas asked, his eyebrow raised in mock surprise. “I thought you were born with the gift. You know, seeing into the future and all that.”

“Please,” Alicia cut in with a grin, tossing her long red hair over her shoulder. “The only thing she’s predicting is when we’ll all fail our exams. It’s not exactly professor Onai level.”

“You’d think predicting disaster would score me more points in her class," you said dryly, earning a laugh from Maeve.

Ben leaned over the table, grabbing another egg roll. “Speaking of disasters, did you hear what happened in Potions yesterday?” He shot Alicia a knowing look, and she groaned dramatically.

“Oh, Merlin, don’t even bring it up. It was a tiny fire! You set one classroom on fire, and no one ever lets you forget it.”

“I mean, it's impressive you didn’t blow up the entire dungeon,” Cressida added with a teasing smile.

"Alicia, if you set something else on fire, you'll be on first-name basis with Filch," Lucas chimed in, his tone dry but playful.

Maeve shot him a mock glare. “You’re one to talk! You’re probably on Filch’s speed dial from all your pranks.”

“Correction,” Lucas said, holding up a finger. “Filch doesn’t know I’m behind them. I’m smarter than that.”

Lucas leaned back with a self-satisfied grin, as if he’d been waiting to drop some news. “Anyway, you’ll never guess what happened last night.”

Lilith raised an eyebrow. “Did you set something on fire?”

“No, better.” Lucas’s grin widened. “Someone asked me to the Slug Club party.”

There was a pause around the table before Maeve nearly choked on her juice. “Wait—what? Someone asked you?”

“Wait, are you serious?” Alicia looked equally surprised, her freckled face scrunching up with curiosity. “Since when are you the kind of person to go to fancy parties with dates?”

Lucas shrugged nonchalantly, though his eyes gleamed with amusement. “It’s just a party. They asked, and I thought, why not?”

“You, at the Slug Club, huh?" Ben looked impressed, though his tone was teasing. "Trying to get in with the elite crowd now?”

“More like trying to eat their fancy food,” Lucas shot back, biting into his toast with a smirk. “And who says I can’t enjoy a party? Besides, this person… well, let's just say they’re persistent.”

“Pass the eggs, would you, Y/N?” Maeve asked from beside you, her dark curls bouncing as she leaned over, ever enthusiastic.

You handed her the plate, grinning as she piled her food.

Before you could get drawn further into the banter, you cleared your throat, feeling a sudden knot tighten in your stomach. “About the Slug party…”you began, a little hesitantly.

Everyone turned to you, curious, and you immediately regretted how awkward you felt about saying it aloud. You knew how this group loved to react to every little piece of drama.

Ben, narrowed his eyes at you with a grin. “What, don’t tell me you got asked too?”

Alicia leaned in, her curiosity piqued. “Come on, Y/n, spill. Who asked you?”

Taking a deep breath, you set your juice down and tried to keep your voice casual. “So, last night... I was in the library, putting some books away, and... Riddle shows up.”

You could almost feel the temperature drop slightly at the mention of his name. Tom had that effect—he was either admired, feared, or completely misunderstood. And most people didn’t dare cross into his orbit.

“Riddle?” Lucas’ brow furrowed. “What did he want?”

Your lips twitched in irritation. "Well, he said... I’m going with him to the Slug Club party.”

There was a beat of silence, then:

“He what?” Lucas nearly shrieked, his eyes wide.

“He just—said it. Didn’t ask, didn’t wait for a reply. Just told me I’m going with him and walked off before I could even respond.”

Ben snorted, shaking his head. “Classic Riddle. Bloody arrogant, isn’t he?”

“You're telling me!” you said, leaning back in frustration. “I didn’t even agree, and now it’s like everyone’s going to think I’m—”

Cressida leaned in with a sly grin. “That you’re dating him?”

You shot her a look. “Please, no one’s going to think that. It’s just—he’s using me as a social prop or something. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“But why you?” Lucas asked quietly. “Riddle doesn’t just pick people randomly. Maybe he sees something in you.”

“That’s what makes it so weird!” you exclaimed. “I’ve barely spoken to him, and now I’m his date?”

Lucas crossed his arms. “Maybe you should start glaring at him more often, like I do.”

“Yeah, well, according to him, he’s already noticed your glare,” you said dryly, rolling your eyes. “Apparently, he’s very aware of all of us.”

Lucas huffed, clearly unimpressed. “Of course, he is. That guy’s always watching people like they’re chess pieces.”

Alicia giggled. "Well, I guess that means we’re all on his board now. Good luck with that.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I can’t believe this is happening. I don’t even want to go to that stupid party.”

Maeve nudged you gently. “Hey, it might not be so bad. If anything, Lucas’ll be there for moral support, right?”

Ben nodded with a small, encouraging smile. “He’ll keep an eye out for you. If he gets too... Riddle-like, just wave ‘em over.”

“Besides,” Lucas added, his eyes twinkling with mischief, “I’ll be there with my mystery date. You and I can compare horrible dates.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head. “You’re impossible, Lucas.”

He winked. “I know.”

Despite the ridiculousness of it all, you felt a little better knowing your friends had your back, even if it meant navigating the Slug Club party with Tom Riddle as your so-called date. You were quite glad that Lucas would be there, otherwise… you didn’t know how you’d survive.

The dim light of the Potions classroom cast an almost mystical glow over the rows of cauldrons, each bubbling and steaming with the concoctions your classmates were diligently working on. You sat at a long table alongside Lucas, Lilith, and Alicia, the air filled with the aromatic scents of various herbs and potions brewing.

“Alright, does anyone actually know what we’re supposed to be doing?” Lucas asked, peering into his cauldron with a skeptical expression. “Because I’m pretty sure my potion looks more like swamp water than anything resembling a Polyjuice Potion.”

You leaned over to inspect his mixture, fighting back a grin. “I think it needs more lacewing flies. And probably less of whatever that is,” you replied, pointing at a suspicious-looking ingredient he’d added.

Alicia chuckled. Let’s see what kind of disaster we can create this time!”

Lilith, who was meticulously measuring her ingredients, glanced up with a shy smile. “Just be careful, okay? We don’t want to blow anything up this time.”

“Not this time,” Lucas said with mock solemnity, as if making a vow. “But I can’t promise anything after all that bad luck we had in Herbology.”

Just as the laughter began to bubble up again, Professor Slughorn approached your table, his round face beaming with warmth and enthusiasm. His robes swished around him as he moved, and he carried an air of joviality that made his presence both comforting and slightly intimidating.

“Well, well! Look who we have here!” Slughorn exclaimed, his eyes sparkling. “Our very own Gryffindor duo—Lucas and Y/n! I’m positively delighted to have you both joining us for the Slug Club party Saturday! It’s sure to be an affair to remember!”

You exchanged a glance with Lucas, both of you caught off guard by the sudden attention from Slughorn. Your stomach twisted a little at the mention of the party, a mix of excitement and nerves washing over you. Lucas, on the other hand, wore a broad grin that seemed to grow even wider.

“Thanks, Professor!” Lucas replied, leaning back in his chair with a casual air. “I can’t wait. I’ve heard your parties are legendary.”

“Ah, you’ve heard correctly!” Slughorn said, his cheeks flushing with pride. “I do try to make them memorable. The company, the food, the lively discussions! You’re both in for a treat. I’ve planned some delightful surprises this time.”

“What kind of surprises?” Alicia asked, her curiosity piqued. She leaned forward, her long red hair spilling over her shoulders as she regarded the professor with wide eyes.

“Oh, I can’t reveal all my secrets, dear girl! That would spoil the fun,” Slughorn replied, waving a hand dismissively, though a mischievous smile played on his lips. “But I assure you, you won’t be disappointed. Just be sure to dress nicely! A party is only as good as its attendees, after all.”

You exchanged glances with Lucas, feeling the weight of Slughorn’s expectations. “Thanks for the heads up, Professor,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach. “We’ll make sure to dress appropriately.”

Slughorn beamed at you, his eyes twinkling. “Wonderful! I’ll be counting on you both to liven up the evening! Now, I mustn’t keep you from your work. Let’s make sure that cauldron doesn’t boil over, shall we? Merlin knows I have enough cleaning with you, Alicia!”

As he moved on to check on another group, the four of you exchanged looks filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

“What did I get myself into?” you whispered to Lucas, who was now rolling up his sleeves as if preparing for battle.

“Just a party, Y/n! What’s the worst that could happen?” Lucas replied, grinning. “I’m sure it’ll be all fun and games… unless Tom Riddle pulls out his mysterious charms again.”

“Oh, don’t remind me!” you said with a dramatic sigh. “At this point, I’m half-expecting him to show up with a crown or something.”

Lilith giggled softly, her curls bouncing as she nodded in agreement. “I’d pay to see that.”

“Same,” Alicia added, her voice laced with laughter. “But for real, Y/n. Just have fun.”

“Absolutely,” Lucas said, offering you a reassuring grin. “Let’s just survive Potions first, and then we can strategize our party game plan. Besides, I’ll be there to distract you from any of Riddle’s creepy vibes.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the camaraderie, feeling the comforting presence of your friends around you. As you returned your focus to the cauldron, the bubbling liquid within seemed a little less daunting, and the upcoming party, while still nerve-wracking, felt a touch more exciting with your friends by your side.

“Though, I can’t believe Slughorn is actually excited to see us at the party,” Lucas said, breaking into your thoughts. “I mean, I thought we’d be just another couple of faces in the crowd.”

“I know, right?” you replied, rolling your eyes slightly. “As if I’m not already stressed enough about it. What am I supposed to wear? I don’t even know how to match with Riddle.”

Lucas grinned mischievously, leaning closer to you. “I mean, have you considered going in full-on Gryffindor colors? You could practically blind him with your ensemble. Red and gold would definitely make a statement.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “As tempting as that sounds, I don’t think that’s the look I’m going for. I’d like to keep some semblance of style, thank you very much.”

Just then, Lilith, who had been quietly mixing her potion a few seats down, piped up. “Or you could match with Lucas!” she said, her eyes brightening at the idea. “You could be besties who coordinate outfits!”

Lucas’s eyes widened, and he looked at Lilith with mock horror. “Wait, you want me to match with Y/n? How would that even work?”

“Oh, come on!” you exclaimed, feeling a rush of excitement. “That would be hilarious. We could totally rock the matching bestie look! We’d be the life of the party.”

Lilith nodded vigorously. “Exactly! Just imagine it. You two in coordinating outfits, showing everyone how it’s done. You could wear something that complements each other. Think about it—everyone will love it!”

“Okay, I’m in,” Lucas said, a playful grin spreading across his face. “But only if I get to pick the colors. I’m not wearing anything ridiculous like polka dots.”

You laughed again, feeling your anxiety start to melt away. “Deal! As long as it’s something we can both pull off. I just want to make sure we don’t look like clowns or something.”

“Clowns would be a bold choice,” Lucas said, leaning back in his chair. “But we can leave that for the next party.”

“Perfect! So, what are you thinking for colors?” you asked, already feeling a surge of inspiration.

“Definitely something dark and sophisticated to contrast with your outfit. I think deep purple or navy would be awesome. They’d go well with both our styles,” Lucas suggested, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“Those would look great together! I can see it now—me in a deep purple dress, and you in a navy suit,” you said, your excitement growing. “We’ll be the most stylish duo there!”

“Absolutely! And if anyone gives us grief, we’ll just tell them it’s a statement about friendship,” Lucas added, grinning as he glanced around the room.

Lilith giggled, pleased with the plan. “I can’t wait to see this! You two will be the talk of the party.”

As Professor Slughorn wandered closer, your table quickly redirected your attention to your potion, but the thrill of the idea lingered in your mind. Matching outfits with Lucas felt like just the right balance of fun and confidence you needed to tackle the upcoming Slug Club party.

The Gryffindor common room was bustling with high and loud energy as you and your friends gathered around a large table piled high with books, parchment, and assorted snacks. The fireplace crackled warmly in the background, casting a cozy glow over the space. Lilith sat cross-legged on the floor, engrossed in a thick tome about potion brewing, while Maeve and Alicia were locked in a spirited debate about the merits of various Quidditch teams.

You settled into a comfortable armchair, stretching your legs out in front of you and letting out a contented sigh. It felt nice to be surrounded by friends, especially after the whirlwind of emotions you’d experienced over the past few days.

As you reached for a chocolate frog, you caught sight of a familiar furry figure lounging on the armrest of your chair. Your heart swelled with joy as you recognized your cat, who had been mysteriously absent for days.

“Hey there, little buddy!” you exclaimed, scooping the cat into your arms. “I haven’t seen you for days! I was starting to worry!”

The cat purred contentedly, nuzzling against your chin as if to say, ‘I’ve been off having adventures, thank you very much.’ You couldn’t help but laugh, scratching behind its ears. “I hope you weren’t off plotting world domination or anything.”

“Maybe he was hanging out with Tom Riddle!” Alicia chimed in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’ve heard he’s a bit of a cat person.”

You shot her a mock glare, but a smile tugged at your lips. “You know what? I wouldn’t put it past him. He probably thinks he can communicate with Shadow or something.”

“Maybe they’re secretly bonding over dark magic,” Maeve added, feigning a serious expression. “What if they form a feline army?”

“Now that would be terrifying,” Lucas said, emerging from the corner of the room with a plate of biscuits. “A cat army led by Tom Riddle? I can see it now—total chaos.”

You shook your head, laughing at the absurdity of it all. “Well, if my cat is leading the charge, I’m definitely switching sides. I can’t let her rule the world without me!”

Lilith looked up from her book, a smile breaking through her usually reserved demeanor. “At least you’ll have a loyal companion by your side.”

You cradled your cat closer, who seemed to enjoy the attention. “You know, he might be the secret to my success. With Shadow by my side, I feel like I can take on anything—even Riddle.”

The group erupted in laughter, and the mood in the room brightened. You placed your cat back on the armrest, where he settled comfortably, watching everyone with bright, inquisitive eyes.

The weekend had finally arrived, and excitement buzzed in the air as you and Lucas made your way to Hogsmeade for a day of shopping. The streets were alive with chatter, laughter, and the sound of the occasional owl swooping overhead. The weather was crisp, the sky a brilliant blue, perfect for a day out with friends.

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Lucas said, his voice laced with anticipation as he adjusted the collar of his shirt. He looked sharp today, dressed casually but stylishly in light jeans and a fitted sweater. “This is going to be epic.”

“Right?” you replied, your heart racing with a mix of nerves and excitement. “I feel like we’re on a mission to become the best-dressed duo in Hogwarts history.”

Lucas chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “And to think, it all started with a date to the Slug Club. I’m still half-convinced you just wanted to drag me along to ensure you looked fabulous.”

“Can you blame me? You’re basically a fashion icon,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

As you approached Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, a quaint shop with window displays filled with elegant robes and dresses, you felt a thrill of anticipation. Stepping inside, you were greeted by the familiar scent of fabric and the gentle rustle of garments being tried on. A soft bell chimed as the door closed behind you.

“Alright, let’s find you a stunning dress!” Lucas said, eyes gleaming as he headed toward the racks of colorful robes and dresses.

You wandered over to the section with formal wear, your heart racing as you scanned the options. After a few minutes of searching, your gaze landed on a beautiful dark purple dress that flowed elegantly to your ankles. The silk shimmered under the shop’s lights, and you could already picture how it would look on you—sleek and sophisticated.

“Lucas, come check this out!” you called, holding up the dress.

His eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face. “That’s perfect! It’s so elegant and would look stunning on you. Try it on!”

With a quick nod, you grabbed the dress and made your way to the fitting room. Slipping it on, you admired yourself in the mirror. The fabric felt soft against your skin, and the color complemented your features beautifully. You turned to see how it looked from different angles, feeling a rush of confidence.

“Okay, now for the real test,” you said to yourself, stepping out of the fitting room. Lucas’s jaw dropped as he laid eyes on you, his expression a mixture of awe and approval.

“Wow, Y/N. You look absolutely breathtaking!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands in delight. “That dress was made for you!”

“Really? You think so?” you asked, a shy smile spreading across your face.

“Absolutely. And it’ll look even better when we coordinate with my navy suit,” Lucas said, his voice teasing but sincere. “You’re going to be the star of the show, and I’m just here to support your brilliance.”

“Okay, okay, you’re making me blush,” you replied, playfully rolling your eyes. “But you still need to find your suit, Mr. Best Dressed.”

“Right! Let’s find the perfect navy suit to match my stunning date,” he said, striding over to the section for men’s formal wear. After a few minutes of browsing, he pulled out a dark navy suit that looked incredibly sharp. “What do you think?”

“Looks like a winner to me!” you said, clapping your hands together. “Let’s get you to try it on.”

As Lucas stepped into the fitting room, you waited anxiously outside, your heart pounding with excitement. When he finally emerged, you gasped. The suit fit him perfectly, accentuating his tall frame and dark curls. He looked incredibly handsome.

“Well? What do you think?” Lucas asked, striking a pose with a grin.

“You look fantastic! Seriously, you’re going to turn heads in that suit,” you said, unable to hide your admiration. “We’ll be the best-looking pair at the Slug Club.”

“Agreed,” he said, beaming. “Now let’s finalize our choices. You have to get that dress, and I definitely need this suit.”

After a few moments of browsing through accessories, you settled on a simple silver necklace that would add a touch of elegance without overpowering the dress. Lucas found a matching tie that complemented both his suit and your dress beautifully.

“Alright, we did it!” you said as you paid for your outfits. “I can’t believe we actually pulled this off.”

“Of course we did! We’re a dynamic duo,” Lucas replied, a grin spreading across his face. “Now all we have to do is perfect our dance moves for the party.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll be the center of attention with our dazzling outfits and questionable dancing,” you laughed, nudging him playfully.

“Let’s just hope we don’t end up stepping on each other’s toes,” Lucas quipped as you both stepped back into the bustling streets of Hogsmeade, ready to show the world just how stylish you could be together.

As you walked side by side, you felt a sense of excitement and confidence. With Lucas by your side, you knew the Slug Club party would be an unforgettable night, no matter what happened.

“So, Luca, you still haven't told me who your date is.” You asked him, nudging him slightly with your elbow.

He chuckled nervously. “Ah, well, about that…”

“Come on,” you teased, nudging him playfully. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze fixed ahead. “It's... not a girl.”

A/N: to be added to taglist - press taglist lol & i have a feeling i basically wrote nothing? does that make sense, anyway THANK YOU for all the support

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊taglist:

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drvscarlett · 2 months ago

Text

About You Pt 16

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

A/N: this is rollercoaster ride is about to reach its end, only 4 more to go. i wanna thank everyone for reading this. let me know what you think about this one!!

About You Series

2013, Winter break (December)

The idea of having a kid seems unreal for Sebastian. He never thought much about it before since he thinks its still something for the distant future. Yet here he is now only a few weeks away from the birth of his daughter.

Having a daughter scares him a lot. No number of self-help books or even a parent’s advice could give him a guide to how to raise a kid well. He has seen how nasty boys could be and he will be damned if they approach his daughter. It was funny that he is already so protective and filled with love for someone that he hasn't met yet.

Sebastian shakes his thoughts away as he focuses on painting the walls of the nursery.

He had been making use of the winter break to renovate this new place that he bought in Switzerland. Ever since the season ended, he had been in contact with Hanna about how to do this whole thing. Sebastian was the first to suggest to buy a house that could provide privacy for the kid. He didn't want her face to be scattered across the news or be hounded by photographers hence why he opted for Switzerland.

Hanna was not due to go there until the week before Christmas so here he was nesting the place. He had babyproofed every corner and he bought some furnitures that the baby might need. It was honestly a lot of heavy lifting and tinkering but Sebastian is slowly making a home out of this place.

The buzz of his phone interrupts him and he places his brush down. He confusedly answer the call upon seeing the caller ID.

"Mark? What's up?" Sebastian didn't know if Mark misdialled him or maybe Mark knew the things that happened. He prayed his best that this must be a misdial "Do you need anything?"

"I have been trying to message you for hours, where are you?" Mark sounds exasperated at the other line.

"I'm sorry, I’m here in the swiss alps busy painting the walls and picking up stuffs" Sebastian sheepishly admits.

There was a silence at the other end of the line. A hesitation from Mark's end to break the news to him. He hears a heavy sigh from the Australian.

"So you have no idea what is going on?" Mark asked.

"You sound like something bad happened”

“I need you to get to the winter vacation home of the Schumacher” Mark ordered “Something terrible happened to Michael and the kids are left there with Y/N. Corinna went to accompany Michael and now the kids as well Y/N are being harassed by the media for questioning”

“I’ll be there”

His hands were quick to get his car keys and he was off driving to their location. He knew that the last time that he saw Y/N he promised to give her space. However, this situation calls for something different. He has to help her even just for Mick and Gina’s sake.

He drove as quick as he legally can to the Schumacher vacation house. It was a good idea that he was just about 20 minutes away from them because the scene in front of him is catastrophic. The view of reporters with their cameras and their phones crowded the window and the door. It was a suffocating sight to see. Sebastian could only be livid at the amount of ruckus that these so called journalist are causing additional emotional stress of the kids right now.

“Get away, get the fuck away” Sebastian announced as he parked his car.

The attention immediately shifted to the Red Bull driver. These media have no sense of privacy or whatsoever and it irritated him to the core.

“Sebastian, any comments about Michael? Is he okay? Is he in critical condition?”

“What do you think would happen to Michael?”

“Is there any news or updates about Michael?”

“Just please back away and let us have some privacy for the family. “Sebastian shouted, warding them off “You are scaring the children. Get your shit out of here”

Some reporters scattered away after seeing the temper of Sebastian. Others were still staying. Sebastian made his way to the front door by typing the code and he prayed it was still the usual. The moment that it beeps open, he hurriedly went in and slammed it shut before the reporters could get a scoop of what’s happening inside.

“Seb!” Mick was quick to run to greet him “I swore I heard your voice and you're here”

The little Schumacher was immediately latched to him. Sebastian gave him a comforting hug upon realizing that Mick was hiding his face and starting to cry. He couldn’t put into words how long Mick would have been holding those tears to be shaking in tears right now.

“It all happened so fast and I couldn’t do anything.. And then these reporters came out and they were crowding everywhere”Mick continued to explain.

“It’s alright, I’m here buddy. No one’s going to hurt you”

“Y/N said Mama and Papa arrived at the hospital but Papa is not yet awake” Mick recounts “I ‘m scared because what if Papa never wakes up or what if Papa wakes up and he has no memories of us?”

“Your papa will be alright buddy”Sebastian assures.

He has seen Michael survive so long in a dangerous sports, surely this simple accident won’t bring him down. Sebastian understood how shocking the whole experience can be for the kids and so he just allow Mick to be held for a few minutes more.

“Mick, I hate to do this but I think we have to go and change your location”Sebastian pointed out “There are reporters outside your home and they won't go away. I’ll help you move into a more quiet place, is that alright?”

The sniffling Mick nodded in understanding.

“Where’s Gina and Y/N? We have to go get them”Sebastian asked

“They’re in the bedroom. Y/N has been trying to calm Gina down and I think Gina fell asleep”

Mick lead the way and carefully opened the bedroom door of Gina. There Gina was sleeping soundly on the bed as Y/N was waiting on her cellphone. The two of them seems to be crying for hours already judging by the messy state that they are in.

“Seb, you’re here”a soft acknowledgement by Y/N.

“Mark called and I couldn’t leave you three by yourself” Sebastian explained “Can you pack a bag and we can go somewhere more safe?”

The female Webber nodded. It was a good thing that they haven’t unpacked a lot yet since they just arrived yesterday morning. They can easily pick up the stuffs that they brought so they won’t waste any more time.

“Good. Let’s get some jackets to cover the face of Mick and Gina” Sebastian instructed “The media out there are like hyenas waiting to get a statement”

“I’ll handle that but Gina just slept..”Y/N replied,

“I’ll carry Gina and cover her with the jacket. You and Mick should go together”Sebastian offered.

The three launched into their plan. Sebastian leads the way with a sleeping Gina on his arms. Mick was holding Y/N’s hands tightly as he kept his head down with the oversized jacket covering his whole face. His other hand was holding Sebastian’s jacket. Y/N carried the bags.

The moment the door opened, the media could not stop their flashing lights and questions. Sebastian did his best to navigate his way back to his car. He could feel Mick’s hold getting tighther as the intrusive questions continue.

Thankfully, they made their way back to the car and Sebastian managed to drive as far as possible from those pesky media.

“Everyone good?” Sebastian checked

“Yeah”Mick answered “Can’t believe Gina is still asleep with all the ruckus”

“You’re sister can sleep anywhere because her lullaby used to be those loud F1 cars”Y/N managed to joke.

From the mirror, Mick cracked a smile. It was something rare for today and the two adults felt at ease to see him smile. It didn’t take him a long time before Mick joined his sister and dozed off. The poor kid must have been extremely exhausted with everything that happened.

Sebastian went back to focusing on driving back home when he noticed Y/N twisting her necklace. It was unmistakable that it was the same necklace that he gifted her all those years ago. He could never forget the meaning of why Y/N continuously touch or twist that necklace.

“You don’t have to worry Y/N, everything will be alright” Sebastian comforts.

A heavy sigh escapes her lips. Sebastian knew that this was as difficult for Y/N as it had been for the kids. Y/N has always been like an honorary Schumacher especially when Mark was not on speaking terms to her. This is incredibly tough on her to stay behind and be a strong figure for the kids.

“Corinna just sounded so broken when I talked to her and I’m just scared to want to know the truth” Y/N confessed “I don’t know how much longer I could stay strong for Mick and Gina”

Sebastian pulled the car over once Y/N starts crying. He cannot focus on driving knowing that she is by his side and in tears. He gave her tissues and allowed her to cry.

“Michael will pull through. He is tough anf strong”Sebastian reassured “You have to be strong because Corinna will be looking at you for support. Gina and Mick also looks up a lot to you”

If this was old times, he would have held her at this moment. He would have assured her as he gives her a comforting shoulder to cry on.

“Can I hold you?” He hoped for a positive answer but he didn’t want to overstep boundaries. He has already been overstepping with the way that he appeared when they agreed that they should figure things out for the moment.

And it surprised him when Y/N reached out to embrace him. The silent tears were muffled by how tight Y/N have been embracing him. He just lets her and he prays that things would be alright.

2014, Winter break (January)

The fireworks outside boasted different colors in the night sky. Sebastian assumes that it was quite a distance away from his home because the sounds of the fireworks and the celebrations weren't too loud. He hums with his cup of hot chocolate as he watches the magnificent display at his window.

"Seb?" Hanna waddled in. With a few weeks to go, she was having a lot more difficulty walking around the house "I heard some noises"

"Its New Year" Sebastian gestured at the firework display.

The pregnant woman muttered a small "oh". She must have lost track of times thats why she forgot that it was a new year.

"Happy new year then Seb." she greets "Hope you have a great one"

"Happy new year hanna"

"I'm gonna go and rest but if you want some company for the new year then I can—"

Sebastian shakes his head sideways. He knew that it was difficult for Hanna to walk a lot these days and staying up late might be bad for the baby.

"You go on and rest, have a great night Hanna"

Sebastian watched as Hanna retreated back to her room. Once she was gone,his gaze returned to the view outside. He reminisces the things that happened in 2013 and who would have thought that this is how he ends up in the following year. There were plenty of things, good and bad,that forever turned his life a whole 360.

He can't help but plague his thoughts of Y/N. This time last year,they shared New Years eve together with the Vettel household. He was holding champagne instead of hot cocoa. He was still sharing dreams of a future with Y/N.

There were plenty of questions of what this year may hold to their relationship. Sebastian would like to be a positive thinker and assume that they will work this out. However,he isnt sure if it will be that easy for them to overcome. He knew his priorities would also change with his daughter.

Speak of the devil. Her name appeared brightly on his phone screen. It was a photo of them on Christmas when he confessed. The bright smiles on their faces was perfectly captured.

"Hello?"Sebastian picked up the call.

There was giggling at the other end, an obvious sign that the girl was drunk.

"I am here and im up and about hehe”

"Jesus are you drunk? Where are you?"Sebastian asked.

He was worried. Y/N was not the type of person to drink excessively, she always know her limits. Sebastian wondered if she was somewhere safe or how would she be able to get home? Was she with friends or not?

"I ammmm perfectly safe hereee in my home"Y/N slurred.

A breath of relief for Sebastian "You're by yourself?"

"Yuppp,drank two bottles of this chocolate whiskey cream thing"

Sebastian smiles at their parallelism. Even now they are still matching with their drinks, of course. The only difference Seb has the non-alcoholic version while she has the alcoholic kinds. Its weird how they seem connected even if they are not speaking to each other a lot.

"Its just so fucking difficult. Its like a shitstorm man. Like is God testing me to be his strongest shoulder because I swear I am one event being a sacrificial lamb. Just take meeee. Take meee"

There goes Sebastian's theory. Y/N would never drink not unless she has unsaid feelings. It was her way to copenwith the things she bottled in. Sebastian sits in the couch as he listens to her rants.

"First was that horrific Multi 21. Made my life shittyyyy. Second, Michael. Fuck that brain trauma is traumatizing even the children. GOD WHY IS IT UNFAIR"

All that Sebastian wanted to do was be by her side and comfort her. She was breaking down and Sebastian is helpless on the other side of the phone. He is miles away and he can’t just leave Hanna by herself. It was a complicated situation—a common occurrence to describe them these days.

“And then I lost you.. I think that sucks the most because I think I can deal with everything but then why do I have to lose you too? I know this sounds selfish but I never wanted you to go and I wanted to work this out but fuck I’ll be so selfish to deprive your child of a father. My conscience can’t handle that”

“You didn’t lose me, we’re still working this out” Sebastian reasons out “I told you I will prove myself to you right? I told you I will come back as someone worthy of you”

It was that promise that keeps Sebastian steady on his feet. He was doing his best to figure out his life and to take on this new responsibility. He made it a point that his child and Y/N will always feel like a priority, people who will always feel loved by him.

“Will this year be better seb?”

“I hope it will be” Sebastian was wistful “It’s a start of new year, anything could happen”

The skies darkened once more as the embers of the fireworks disappeared. It was only the moon out there together with the stars sprinkled like specks of dust. Sebastian remembered that old childhood tale that if he wishes on the right star then his wish would come true. Hopefully the right star guides his wish today.

2014, Silverstone Circuit

The sun was up but the weather was a bit chilly for the second day of testing. Undoubtedly, this was a good weather to see the car go around the circuit. Y/N has already found her place somewhere outside the McLaren motorhome. She have been watching the cars and familiarizing herself with the new drivers on the grid.

It didn’t take long for her to enjoy her alone time because some drivers were sneaking up on her.

“Mind if we join you?” Jenson made his presence known. He was joined in by Nico and Lewis “You look like you have a good view of the whole testing”

“I can’t shoo you away even if I tried” Y/N replied

“We know”

The drivers settled down next to her. It felt comfortable to be around the McLaren-Mercedes trio. With Mark leaving the grid, she had to admit that these three have been putting an extra effort to include her in whatever they do ever since the testing season started. It was quite wholesome for them to do that.

“How’s the car?” Y/N asked

“Could be better” Jenson shrugged “It’s kind of basic but I hope we can add something to it before Bahrain”

“But were alright with ours. It’s a car that can compete” Lewis pointed out. Nico was nodding his head in agreement “I think we may have a chance against Red Bull this year”

“You always say that every year”Jenson complains.

“Uh huh but this year is finally that year”Lewis proclaimed.

The new regulations were also starting this year and Y/N could tell that there might be a couple of shift. Besides that, there is a new Red Bull driver and no one really knows if the kid will settle to be a 2nd driver or would challenge Sebastian.

Their attention went back to the circuit. They exchanged some oohs and aahs as they hear the car pass by. However in their mind they were all assessing whats the real speed of every car or how good is the driver behind the wheel.

“That’s Daniel Ricciardo”Nico watched as the Red Bull with a shiny number 3 passed them by “The kid is going to be eaten alive by Seb”

“Yeah, I remember how often he DNFed last season. It’s a crazy gamble to put him in the Red Bull seat” Lewis agreed.

Jenson looks slightly pissed by the mention of Sebastian’s name. He wasn’t done with what Sebastian did to Y/N. Even if Y/N have tried to reason out that she will give Sebastian a chance, Jenson was not included in the forgiving Sebastian party.

“Ricciardo had a bad car last year but this year he has the same equipment as Sebastian so maybe give the kid a chance to do something great”Jenson boldly speaks.

“Jenson” a warning from Y/N. There was no need for anyone to know that they have a bad blood with one another. It was an incoming headache for Y/N if Jenson keeps this attitude for the entire season.

The two Mercedes driver looked at the situation in front of them with raised eyebrows. They have heard about the rumored altercations between Sebastian and Jenson in COTA but they were never able to find the perfect timing to ask them what’s that about. It seems like they are just granted an opportunity to ask about it.

“Sooooooooo, that’s a lot of anger for Seb” Nico tiptoed about the topic “Any particular reason why you aren’t in good terms?”

“He is an asshole” was the quick remark of Jenson.

Lewis nudged Y/N as if asking her to elaborate further. Y/N just sighed because she would rather bury herself in a hole than tell the story.

“It’s nothing, its just a minor hiccup for me and Seb”Y/N downplayed.

“Wait hold on, what is this hiccup?”

“Yeah, how long have we been out of loop?”

Jenson took it as a go signal to tell the whole story. It was crazy to see how Lewis and Nico’s reaction started to take different turns. Where Lewis was mad, Nico was getting teary eyed from the whole thing.

“And that’s why I’m still trying to convince Y/N that Sebastian is an asshole” Jenson concluded.

“Damn right she should” Lewis was quick to agree. Jenson gives him a high five because finally someone was on his side and maybe Lewis could help him convince Y/N that giving Sebastian a chance is a bad decision.

“But I think this isn’t something that Sebastian intended”Nico rebutted “He said it himself this was a one time thing and he was drunk”

“Drunk or not, you should never cheat”Lewis fought back.

“You are not thinking this through Lewis”

The sounds were drowned once more by the bickering by the two Mercedes drivers. For Y/N, it was like the battling voices inside her head have been personified by them. She had been doing her best to avoid these types of confrontation especially when there is the Schumacher family that needs her a lot. However, now that she is back at the F1 garages and the races will start soon, she can’t really escape the whole thing.

Jenson moves closer to Y/N. He opted to ignore the fighting duo as well, even if he was the reason for the argument in the first place. Jenson knows that when Lewis and Nico starts arguing then it will take a really long while before they settle anything in peace.

“You haven’t eaten anything yet”Jenson was worried. He knew she was missing from the garages since breakfast and now its nearing 2 in the afternoon but she didn’t have a bite of anything yet. “I sneaked out something for you”

A shiny red apple appeared out of the pockets of his hoodie. It made Y/N smile for the sweet gesture. Although, her mind seems to be playing a déjà vu at her when she remembered how oranges were her favorite fruit, and a certain driver would often give it to her.

If her smile faltered, Jenson didn’t notice with her gracious acceptance of the apple.

“Thanks J, you are an angel”

But Y/N never took a bite of the apple. It just rested in her hands, and they continued to watch the cars going around.

2014, Albert Park

Vettel warns against people invading the privacy of the Schumacher family and friends

In the first media of this season, Sebastian Vettel has made it clear that questions about Michael Schumacher will not be entertained. This comes to light after several media has ambushed interview, Y/N Webber, the assistant of Jenson Button, as soon as she arrives at the paddock. During the process, some media have harmed Y/N to stop her for questions. Y/N was the only person, outside of the Schumacher family, that has been present during the accident.

Sebastian has been very strict that the instructions from the Schumacher family were clear that they wanted privacy for the moment. He said that those who will still be pressing for questions will be instantly banned from the paddock. Jenson Button shared the same sentiments, he warned that he will not tolerate this kind of behavior and will sue those who will attempt to do this again. This has received agreements from Jules Bianchi, Nico Rosberg, and Fernando Alonso. The drivers have stated how the media has been quite tactless and did not care for the well-being of the people that they are ambushing.

There are still no news in regards to the update about Michael Schumacher's health. If there are news, the paddock is quiet about it. It is everyone's best hope that Michael is recovering from that horrific accident.

Mark Webber makes a surprise comeback at the paddock.

Hours before free practice started, the former Red Bull driver, returns to the paddock. However, this time around, he is just a casual watcher on the sidelines as he has already hung up the race suits for the 2014 season.

What makes the comeback surprising is when asked who invited him, the Australian said that he was there as a guest of Sebastian Vettel. Surely, after all the drama from the infamous Multi 21 incident, everyone can't believe that they seem close as buddies now. Mark couldn't help but agree because he was just as shocked when Sebastian called him.

"I really appreciate that Sebastian is a good person and decides to place our difference aside. I was very worried for my sister when I heard what happened to her yesterday. Seb was quick to help me reach her and assures me that she is taken care of."

2014, Sepang International Circuit

"You are a tough man to find Vettel"

All that Sebastian was to have a night for himself and get some rest at his hotel room yet Jenson Button stans before him. It seems like the universe has other plans for him tonight. With the jetlag, Sebastian was in no mood to dodge a punch.

"Can we just talk about this tomorrow? I just arrived and I want to catch some sleep"Sebastian tried to reason out.

Jenson placed a hand in front of his chest, "I just need a quick word with you and then I'll leave"

"What do you want?"

"Mark told me what you did."Jenson started "He told me that you told him everything that you did. You asked for his forgiveness. You let him punch you. You even confessed how hopelessly in love with Y/N"

Even Sebastian was surprised by his actions. Years ago, he vehemently denied that he has any romantic feelings for Y/N in front of Mark and their team principal. Now, he was ready to admit the truth. Maybe it was a helpful factor that Mark is retired and can no longer kill him in the circuit.

"Yeah and what about it?"

"Is this some kind of strategy or some trick? What are you playing at?" Jenson questioned. His tone was a warning to Sebastian that if he is trying any games then Jenson wouldn't mind a repeat of COTA last year.

"There is no game here. I'm just being honest" Sebastian admits.

"Bullshit"

The hotel lobby was quite empty and quiet. There were no one who got curious by the rising voice of the McLaren driver. Sebastian placed his bags down to explain himself.

"I get that you don't trust me and I know how much you hate me for what I did to Y/N. But I am doing my best to show her that I'll be a better person and a person who is worthy of her. If I have to crawl to hell and back for the Webber's forgiveness before being able to court her then so be it. I know that I made a mistake and this is me owning up to it. I want to be a better person because I don't know what she sees in me but she still gave me a chance. She deserves better and I'm trying to do that"

The intense gaze between the two of them prevailed.

Jenson was assessing how much bullshit was said by Sebastian however he could see how much genuine Sebastian is. After all, Mark has sent him here to verify if Sebastian is fooling around or if he is serious about Y/N. Jenson could hate Sebastian all he wants but it doesn't change the fact that Sebastian truly loves Y/N.

"Okay, I'm leaving now"Jenson curtly ended the conversation.

There was nothing left for him to say. Even if he wanted to punch Sebastian, his job is done and now he has to inform Mark that Sebastian is dead serious and most of all fully in love.

He could just miserably laugh as he realized his heart has taken another wound that could never be healed.

2014, Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya

Martin Brundle was walking down the grid as per usual. He was looking for someone to interview today since there was still a few hours before the race starts. The garages were filled with mechanics rolling around equipment and some VIP celebrities who are keeping their head low.

The thought of the current leader, Lewis Hamilton pops in his mind but the Mercedes driver is nowhere to be found. Martin thinks about a driver to interview when he collides with a driver in a racer suit.

"Oh sorry Martin, I didn't see you there" Sebastian apologizes. The Red Bull driver was focused on peelung the orange that he has in his hand that he wasn't looking on his pathway.

"Seb could we have a quick word for you for Grid Walk?" Martin knew that opportunities like this shouldn't be taken for granted. He was asking for someone to interview and then the Gods made him collide with last year's world champion, Sebastian Vettel.

The German driver seems to be in a hurry but he was not someone that turns down Martin, "sure, go on and ask"

The cameras have been quick to work and recenter the two of them into the frame. Sebastian grinned at the camera as he holds the microphone with his free hand.

"So what do you think of people saying that you have been in a drought for wins?" Martin asked.

It was something that may get on the nerves of the driver but Martin asked questions that people wants to know. However, the Red Bull driver just smiles and there were no ill show of feelings.

"I'm still competing and I still get my podiums. I just need to work better and we're doing our best to get better"Sebastian answered.

"You seem like a change man. You used to be so mad when you don't win"

"I still am Martin" Sebastian chuckles "However, I don't beat myself a lot as I used to. I tend to be happier and focus on what's important in my life"

"And that important thing would be?"

Now there was a coy smile for Sebastian. It was the usual teasing antics that the media has been used to, "Well that is for me to know and you to find out Martin"

"Appreciate you being here today Sebastian"Martin concludes "Sebastian Vettel everybody"

"Cheers Martin"

The cameras stopped rolling and Sebastian was quick to run to where he was going.

Martin noticed how Sebastian made a beeline towards the McLaren garage, where someone embraced him. He was usually good recognizing faces in the paddock but the woman was shielded away from the view of everybody. In Martin's thoughts, this was a clear indication that Sebastian was keeping this relationship private.

But it was clear that this woman is someone important for Sebastian to trespass garages for. Martin didn't miss how Sebastian handed the peeled oranges to her. It didn't take a lot for Martin to realize that this was the important thing that Sebastian was talking about.

"What a young love for the world champion" Martin muttered under his breath.

#about you series #sebastian vettel x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #sebastian vettel fluff #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel angst

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strawberrychampagneglass · 3 months ago

Text

Roses - pt. 1

Paige x Azzi

CW: cursing, implications of domestic violence (ONLY AT THE END), angst, maybe some fluff?, pining

9.3k words DAMN

A/N: holy shit guys I did not think I could pull this off and to think that this is gonna be a series is wild to me. Jokes aside, this took me about 2.5 weeks so expect (somewhat) infrequent updates due to school work and all that. Ik y'all have been waiting so I'll drop the first chapter. Something to be mindful of: initially this thing was in GSV then I changed it to LA last minute and then I changed Nika to Cam and Gabby to Dearica because Gabby and Nika didn't make sense to me at all so yea enjoy AND PLEASE DO GIVE ME FEEDBACK!!! I appreciate it a lot I WILL ADD A MASTERLIST WHEN MY HEART COMPELS ME TO

October 15th, 2028

Los Angeles, California

“Azzi,” her urgent voice calls out to the dark. She nearly trips over the entrance mat as she enters her apartment in the early morning hours. She drunkenly yells for her again as she stumbles towards her bedroom.

The only response she gets is an echo of her voice.

She lands in her bed with a soft thud, her hand searching for the familiar warmth of another body. When she feels the cold bed sheet under her hand instead, the only thing she can hear is the hammering inside of her head while her heart throbs, threatening to pry itself out of its cage. Tears well in her eyes as she falls asleep.

When she wakes up and checks her phone, she has one notification: a text message from Curt Miller. While it makes her heart palpitate as she remembers the happy memories, alarms blare in her head, reminding her of the bad that outweighed the good.

Her excitement quickly turns to bitterness. Paige doesn’t want to play on the same team as Azzi. Not after the incident in her redshirt senior year. Not after their catastrophic argument at the 2025 WNBA draft. Not after she saw a new person with her Azzi. Not after she saw the diamond-studded ring on her fourth finger.

Most of all, not after she built a stronghold with the most formidable defenses around her heart.

July 29th, 2018

Minsk, Belarus

The Belarusian crowd roars during the FIBA U17 Women’s Basketball World Cup final, drowning out the melody created by a screeching flute and deep, dulcet drum. With a very comfortable 32 point lead against the French in the middle of the fourth quarter, Paige is subbed out. She accepts the high-fives from her teammates before taking a seat at the end of the bench. Cheers flood the bench while they watch the clock wind down intently, waiting to relish in the intoxicating adrenaline following the victory.

The blonde raps her foot against the floor anxiously; her jaw propped up by her clenched fists. From the point of view of her teammates, she is engaged in the game. However, inside of her mind, a storm brews. She thinks of her best friend, the brunette girl with the number 6 on her back who is sat two seats to her left. Paige indulges in the memory of her fingers lingering on Azzi’s for that extra second after a high-five, their intertwined hands during the national anthem, and even when their shoulders brushed together in the team huddles and neither of them moved.

Her mind continues to wander until the bench unexpectedly explodes with chants of “USA” as the clock winds down into the last minute of the game. Paige springs from her seat on the bench, hollering as the adrenaline pumps through every vein in her body. When the final buzzer sounds, she shakes hands with the opposing team before hurling herself into the sea of navy jerseys.

The rest goes by in a blur, her adrenaline depletes rapidly. The energetic girl is uncharacteristically quiet during their team dinner and even on the bus ride home where she opts to sit alone in the back, leaning her head against the cool window that soothed her aching head.

As the bus pulls up to the hotel, Paige and Azzi lock eyes from opposing ends of the bus. The fatigue she once felt is quickly replaced with delight when Azzi gives her a tired smile with softened eyes, making her heart beat erratically. It’s still early in the evening, but the team agrees to celebrate in Cameron Brink’s room, without the coaches’ knowledge. While the team shuffles off the bus in a single-file line, Paige pushes through the never-ending hoard of her teammates until her eyes rest on a familiar brunette. She puts her hand on the brunette’s cold shoulder, catching her attention as she leaned into the warmth of Paige’s hand. Azzi chooses to ignore the pink that rose to the older girl’s cheeks and smiles at her.

“Are you going to Cam’s?” Paige asks sheepishly, trying to hide her smile. Azzi chuckles before responding with a nod.

“She is my roommate, so I guess I’m obligated to go.” Paige grins from ear-to-ear as they chat until they reach their respective hotel rooms. She changes into sweatpants and opts for a Hopkins Basketball hoodie. Although it's the middle of summer, the temperatures in Minsk are frigid compared to the Minnesota heat.

Furtively leaving her hotel room, she spots her teammate, Zia Cooke, attempting to sneak several bottles of cheap vodka into Cam’s room, her shoulders are tense and eyes rove across the empty hallway. Paige giggles before walking over to the shorter girl to offer a hand. When her teammate’s eyes land on her friendly face, the muscles in her shoulders loosen.

“Paige, thank god,” she breathes, relieved. “I was so scared that Carla or Stephen would jump out of their rooms.” Paige laughs at the image of Coach Berube catching Zia while looking like a deer in headlights, juggling 5 bottles of vodka. Feeling bad for her teammate, she takes three bottles from her arms and opens the door to Cam’s room. The two girls are met with 10 pairs of curious eyes who cheer at the sight of the vodka bottles.

***

An hour later, the potent odor of vodka floods the room. Most of her teammates gossip about their crushes back home; others watch the late-night shows on the Belarusian TV channels, a few are even snoring obnoxiously on Azzi’s bed. Paige, who is completely sober, feels irritated from her spot on the floor as she watches the dramatic show that is being projected on the TV. She isn’t sure if it was the lack of alcohol, or if it was the sight of her best friend who presses her body against Hailey Van Lith while an arm that wasn’t hers is strung around the brunette’s waist and resting on her toned abdominal muscles.

When Azzi notices the blonde’s glare at Hailey, she walks off the bed and carefully treads towards the table of alcohol, pouring a full glass of vodka. Her eyes flick to Paige, who stares at the glass of vodka in her hand. Unamused and frustrated, Paige returns her attention to the show on the TV until she feels a warm hand tilt her chin back. Azzi looks at her, emotionless, as she stands behind her. They stare at each other wordlessly before the older head lands on a soft, toned leg. Her lower lip meets the cool rim of the glass that Azzi filled with vodka.

The brunette moves her face closer before she tips the glass upward while noticing a light streak of red across Paige’s cheeks. “Drink,” she whispers, and Paige complies. She feels the alcohol burn her esophagus as she swallows the oily and bitter liquid. Their faces linger in the close proximity as they breathe in synchronization. It takes every ounce of self control in Paige’s body to not close the distance between their lips.

“You look pretty,” Paige smiles, hoping for a laugh and a friendly slap across the shoulder from her friend. Instead, Azzi returns a frown with furrowed eyebrows, moving her head away.

“Paige, I can’t enjoy my evening when you’re glaring at everyone I’m sitting with,” Azzi huffs with an edge to her voice. “Go get drunk and leave me alone.” Paige scowls; she knows that Azzi isn’t exclusive to her, but she wants some exclusivity. At the end of the day, they’re just best friends, nothing more. Nevertheless, the thought of another girl’s body pressing her body flush against Azzi infuriates her. From her spot on the floor, she feels the warmth of her friend’s body disappear as she walks back to her spot next to Hailey.

She grabs her wallet and phone and leaves the room.

***

When she returns to her hotel room hours later, she slams the newly-bought bottle of vodka on her nightstand, shaking the entire room. It isn’t a big bottle; it’s around the size of a Gatorade bottle. The cashier at the convenience store didn’t bother checking the 16-year-old’s ID, assuming she was of legal drinking age. She popped the cap off the bottle and brought it to her mouth. Her lips begin to form a suction around the opening as she tilts her head back, swallowing the searing liquid. She throws the rest of the liquid down her throat when the thought of Azzi’s words cross her mind. She tightens her grip on the bottle and her tongue scours for the last few drops of the liquid, hungry for the feeling of the alcohol. She sits on her bed in silence, staring at her feet until she feels the effects of the alcohol course through her veins. Her vision begins to blur and the entire room begins to swirl. Through her blurred vision, she still manages to identify the lamp that sits perfectly still on the nightstand. Her free hand reaches for the dangling chain that serves as a lever for the light. Giving it a slight tug, the light flickers briefly before illuminating the entire room. To her shock, a familiar brunette girl with bronze skin sits across from her.

“Are you done being an alcoholic so we can talk?”

“Azzi, what the fuck?” the blonde stammers, frustrated. She sets the bottle down and stares at her friend in disbelief. When Paige gets no response from her, she stands up and starts stumbling towards the door, nearly tripping over herself.

“Paige, wait,” Azzi catches the blonde, observing the older girl’s cloudy eyes. Even while drunk, her blue eyes remind her of her lake house; her second home. The thought makes her heart flutter despite the agonized look painted across her best friend’s entire face. “I’m sorry, we can talk about this if you want. I know I hurt you, and I take full accountability for it.”

Paige knows she is in damage control mode, but she has a soft spot for the girl; a part that is willing to forgive her and move on.

She chooses to ignore it and let her irritation control her words. “You didn’t want to talk before, so you don’t get to talk now,” she hisses. Azzi flinches, unaccustomed to her hostility. “You told me to leave you alone, and now you’re in my room, begging for forgiveness. I don’t understand you.” Her arms fly erratically before reaching the collar of her hoodie, tugging it down to ease her tense muscles.“For god’s sake, we’re best friends. Sure, best friends tell each other everything, but my best friend doesn’t get to tell me to leave her alone and show up in my hotel room 2 fucking hours later.”

“I’m not yours, Paige. You don’t have any right to control my actions.” The retort makes Paige wince. “If I want to be with Hailey, you have to respect that. I have a right to be frustrated because I don’t belong to you.”

“Okay, how about a heads up next time instead of you getting cozy with someone else in front of your best fucking friend. I thought we agreed that we would ‘see each other later’”

“She was drunk and she came up to me, and we did see each other. There was nothing binding about that agreement. I can be friends with other people and you can too, unless I’m your only friend.” Azzi’s anger rises as well as she picks at her cuticles.

“You’re an asshole.” Paige breathes, releasing the hoodie. “You tried to get me drunk while trying to seduce me.” The other girl’s mouth opens before getting cut off. “Then, you went back over and cuddled up to her. I don’t have a problem with you seeing people, but even a short-term notice would’ve been nice. It’s fucking awkward when I’m sitting there–surrounded by drunk people who are all passed out on the damn floor–and my best friend is cuddling up to a person we barely even know.”

“You know what? You sound really fucking insecure right now. Maybe you should go book a flight back to fucking Minnesota and we’ll never have to see each other again. You’ll never get jealous over me when I go on dates with other people.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, she wishes that she can take them back and shove them down her throat. Paige stares at her, emotionless. After a few minutes, Azzi’s voice cuts through the thick air. “Say something, please. You’re freaking me out.”

“I wish I was yours, Azzi,” Paige whispers softly, so softly that Azzi thinks she mishears. She scowls, but her heart flutters from the confession.

“I need you to tell me that when you’re completely sober. I can’t trust you when you’re drunk.” she sighs, looking at the blonde who has tears brimming in her eyes. However, she can’t shake the warm, fuzzy feeling in her heart from her words. She can’t describe the feelings, and the thought of treading into unexplored emotional territory makes her queasy.

“I wish I was yours,” Paige urges, with genuine sincerity in her tone despite the alcohol.

“Paige–”

Before she could finish her sentence, Paige grabs her wrist and pulls the younger girl into her. The blonde drags her along a premeditated route, stumbling several times. Biting the nails on her free hand, Azzi’s mind swarms with endless possibilities of danger; they could be kidnapped by random Belarusians, the coaches could catch them while getting a midnight snack, or they could get lost and never see their families again. But Paige was Paige, guiding her to their destination. The warmth radiating from the other girl’s body hypnotized her. It felt safe. Too safe.

Paige leads her through the maze of the city until they reach the edge of a river. Even under the late-night sky, airplanes weave between silhouettes of clouds; their green and red lights blink, bringing life to the sky. The city is calm and serene at this hour, with the occasional passer-byer that ignores the two girls. The solitude is disrupted by cars gliding across the bustling road across the river bank with horns that blare occasionally. Street lights hug the river bank; streaks of yellow and orange rippled back and forth on the water. The breeze is soft, like a baby’s blanket. It carries the occasional, faint scent of cigarette smoke which is unexpectedly comforting.

The two sit in mutual silence, away from each other. They both avoided the topic of the prior conversation. Paige hums softly, her body warm from the alcohol. “I didn’t know they had fireworks this late at night.” Her speech is slurred, yet Azzi still laughs in response. The sound of her laugh is like a piece of music written by Beethoven to her; a sound that can be played over and over without getting old.

“They’re not fireworks, they’re street lights reflecting off the water.” The blonde squints, squatting on the large cement block that she had been sitting on. As she cranes her head closer, nearly falling off the block, Azzi scrambles to catch the blonde as she reflexively yanks her waist backwards. They laugh before Paige puts her hand on hers.

“You’re acting really sober,” Paige declares while studying Azzi’s facial features.

“I am sober, so I think it’s a good thing that I’m acting sober.” The younger girl chuckles, punching her friend’s arm lightly with her free hand. Flustered, Paige averts her gaze to the shimmering undulations on the surface of the water. Unsure of whether it was the alcohol that was twisting her mind, or if it was the dim, golden lighting that lights up the left side of Azzi’s face, all she can think about is that her best friend is beautiful. It drives Paige insane; her bronze skin gleams and her umber eyes light up and become a light, almost golden shade of brown.

“Sometimes I wish that you could be in Minnesota with me all the time.”

“Well, you could come to Virginia and stay with me…” Azzi proposes before smiling at Paige, but she doesn't meet her eyes. The blonde is scrunching her face with her attention on Azzi’s arms, and not her face. “What’s wrong? Paige?”

“You’re cold,” Paige whispers, shifting her weight so she and Azzi sit facing each other. Trailing her hand up the other girl’s arm, her fingertips dance along the mountain ranges of goosebumps on her tender skin. Paige’s warm touch makes her feel something. Their eyes clash, uncertainty swarming in both pairs. “I meant what I said earlier,” Paige glances at her lips, breaking the eye contact. “I wish I was yours.” Her hand reaches for Azzi’s cheek, cupping it lightly, and the brunette melts into her touch.

Panic rises as a lump in her throat. They’re young–too young. Azzi’s feelings are new and confusing. She doesn’t know what love feels like and it scares her. As a kid, she was told that “love” was when two people cared for each other a lot. It was obvious that they care for each other a lot. They talk for hours, each word flowing effortlessly while they howl in laughter about something that the other said. Every touch they share is electric: sparks fly erratically through every vein of their bodies. After every argument, Paige is the first to apologize because she knows that Azzi overthinks.

She moves her face closer and drapes her hands on the blonde’s nape. Paige takes the bait.

Her slightly-parted lips meet Azzi’s warm and soft lips. She closes her eyes, pulling the younger girl’s face in before pulling away after several seconds. The kiss is short, but sweet. Azzi looks at her hands, not wanting to meet the blue eyes knowing that she made a mistake, and the kiss shouldn’t have happened. The once well-established boundaries of their friendship are permanently breached. Yet her cheeks flush and she misses the warmth provided by the close proximity of Paige’s body.

“Raise your arms,” Paige mutters shyly as Azzi is enveloped in the warmth of a thick hoodie. Paige’s hoodie. The scent of Paige’s rosy perfume encases her and a contented sigh escapes her lips.

“Are you cold?” Azzi observed her best friend’s exposed arms.

“Nah, I’m alright. You can keep that by the way,” she motions to the hoodie that hugged Azzi’s torso. “It can be a souvenir from Belarus from me. Something that can remind you of tonight forever.” The brunette smiles and wraps her arms around the blonde; she is the clay that Paige can shape into anything she wants. They just fit together.

The girls dance through the city and totter unsteadily to the hotel, where they collapse in the comfort of Paige’s bed, satisfied laughs slipping out of their mouths after sneaking past the rooms of their teammates.

“Would you like me to walk you back to your room, Madame Fudd?” Paige teases before a pillow slams into her face. “Hey! Azzi!” She shrieks, scrambling to grab another pillow before falling flat on her face. Azzi laughs hysterically for a few moments until the room stills into an unsettling quiet.

“You’re so chivalrous, Bueckers.” Azzi looks around her room, fidgeting with her fingers. “But, uh, since there’s a few drunk bodies on my bed,” The blonde cocks her head at her and smirks; the simple motion makes her heart lurch. “And also because you also don’t have a roommate and I thought that you might be a little lonely tonight, especially because you’ll be hungover in the morning, I was wondering if I could stay here tonight.” Paige breaks out into an ear-to-ear grin and tackles her in a bear hug, shoving them to the bed where their bodies melded into each other.

Amongst the clamor, there is an uneasy feeling in Paige’s gut that she can’t shake, but she chooses to ignore the feeling as she lets her body intertwine with the younger girl’s.

October 19th, 2028

New York City, New York

Azzi is selfish.

Anything she gets her hands on, she wants to keep for herself. She is a hoarder who wants to keep everything that she loves forever.

Unfortunately, when you fall in love with everything, you can’t have it all.

She paces back and forth at the gate, biting her nails and avoiding the gaze of her fiancé. Tugging the collar of her hoodie from her high school days over her head, she allows a satisfied sigh to escape her mouth as she is cloaked with a comforting rose scent. It was nostalgic; it held so many memories that felt so important and so irrelevant at the same time. But the scent made her feel hopeful of something she couldn’t place.

“Is everything okay, babe?” startled, she drops the hoodie to smile weakly at her fiancé.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little tired. The thought of everything scares me a little.” Azzi chuckles. Instead of a friendly smile from her fiancé, she notices his scowl at the text on her hoodie. Her heart drops into her stomach, knowing that this would prompt an argument from him over a certain college teammate.

“I’m so happy you finally chose to leave the cesspool of New York,” her fiancé sneers, “and, I’m so excited to soak up the LA sun.” Azzi doesn’t react to his comments, avoiding an argument at all costs. He came to all her games and cheered her on, but he always hated New York City. It was either too cold or too hot, too rainy or too sunny and never the perfect balance between the two.

As long as he’s happy, I am too.

Los Angeles, California

Paige is protective.

She loves her possessions and hates it when people take them. She wants to shield everything she loves from hurt and pain.

Orange and pink rays of sunlight stream through the tall glass panes by Paige’s bedside, bathing her bedroom in a warm glow. She stirs awake, her sore body begging for 15 extra minutes of sleep. Her throat feels raw and her eyelids are weighted. Instead of fighting against the weight, Paige lets her eyes close while thinking about the consequences of not showing up to Azzi’s welcome party. When she first caught wind of the news, she called Cameron Brink to come to her apartment. She complained to her for hours while blackout drunk before inevitably passing out. When she woke up the next morning to dozens of angry texts from Cam, she apologized profusely, showing up to her apartment with the shoes that her friend had been eyeing for months and bags of Sour Patch Kids.

It was safe to say that Paige wasn’t allowed anywhere near alcohol tonight if she chose to go. At least, not under Cam’s watch.

The Sparks had an extremely successful campaign last year and capped off the season with a championship title along with Paige’s first league MVP and finals MVP awards. The feeling is still surreal, and the thought of it pumps more adrenaline through her body. Even though the season was extremely successful, the threat of injuries plagued the guards last year. Also, the Sparks were in desperate need of a guard with the ability to knock down shots and step into the role of a strong playmaker.

Was she expecting Azzi to join the Sparks? Eventually, yes. She is desperate for a championship run.

Did she want to celebrate a piece of her past she let go before her birthday? No.

Is she happy about it? Absolutely not.

Her phone began to vibrate violently under her pillow, prying her from her thoughts. She rolls over to scrutinize the contact name with a groan. Her blood runs cold and she taps the green phone icon on the 4th ring.

“Paige! Thank god I got in contact with you.” Katie Fudd exhales. Paige feels the weight of her panic that reciprocates her own through the phone. “I know we haven’t really talked in about, um, three years,” she pauses, unsure of how to continue when she hears Paige’s sharp inhale, “but, have you heard from Azzi recently? She’s supposed to be arriving in LA today, at least that’s what the media says.”

“No, I…I haven’t heard anything, Katie,” she rasps, her throat ablaze. Her lips run dry. The media?

Paige makes small talk with Katie, catching up on major events in their life while both of them try to avoid the topic of Azzi. It was brought up once and Paige could barely perceive the muffled, yet pained sobs on the other end of the phone.

“I know you have your Unrivaled league coming up in the new year, but it would be great if you could come visit us during Thanksgiving or even Christmas,” Katie proposes as they near the end of their conversation.

“I’ll take a look at my schedule and try to pull some strings, but no promises. I have plans to visit my dad and Drew over the Thanksgiving weekend in Maryland, so we’ll see what happens.” Paige replies, acknowledging the piece of her that wants to let the past go. The part where she was too close to Azzi and her family. She knows that visiting them means treading into foreign territory.

“We miss you, Paige. Jon and Jose miss their ‘son’ too,” Katie laughs, relieving Paige of a heavy, bone-crushing weight on her heart. “Happy early birthday too, we could never forget. We love you, you’re still family to us.”

Paige smiles, a genuine ear-to-ear grin. “Love you too, Kaite. Tell the brothers and Tim I say hi as well.” She says before hanging up.

“You’re still family to us.” The words rang in her head, warming her frozen heart. It wasn’t enough to thaw it, but it was enough to invoke thoughts of hope. She was torn from her reverie by a knock at her door. Humming to herself as she sauntered out of her bedroom, she opened the door to her apartment.

“Woah, I never thought I’d see you smiling like you’re on Disney Channel,” the blonde at the door laughs, surprised. Paige scowls at her words which prompts Cam to laugh harder. “I did bring breakfast though, knowing your current mental state. You look like shit, Paige.” She sets two paper bags on Paige’s kitchen island. They sit across each other on the spinning bar stools Cam loves.

The two chat buoyantly; Cam tells her stories about her boyfriend, Ben, and his new obsession with cars or whatever. Paige doesn’t really pay attention to her rambling because of a painful ache in her heart. Even though it had been a year since Cam moved to Los Angeles, the two still learn new details about Over the past year, Cam used the fact that the shorter woman struggled to maintain a relationship for more than a few weeks as the butt of all her jokes. Despite being annoyed at first, Paige was quite amused with herself.

“Azzi’s mom called me earlier,” Paige abruptly says, interrupting Cam in her spiel about her brother’s recent breakup.

“...is that why you were smiling earlier? Paige, not even 5 days ago you made me-”

“From what I’ve…figured out, they haven’t been able to get in contact with Azzi. Katie seemed distraught when she accidentally brought her up.”

“Are you implying that she got kidnapped?” Cam laughs uncomfortably, trying to avoid the weight of the situation.

“It’s a possibility.” Paige mutters. Cam stops laughing and an uneasy silence drapes the room like a heavy curtain.

“I guess we’ll find out later, but don’t stress about it. You could be overthinking the entire situation. Don’t make that face, I know that you don’t want to go, but out of respect for your future teammate, you need to.” Cam sighs while rubbing circles on her temples. “I’m going to pick her and her supposed fiancé up at the airport. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Thanks for breakfast, Cam. Drive safe,” she calls out as the door to her apartment shuts. And suddenly, her mind is thrown back 5 years to the keychain that Azzi bought them in their early 20s as a gift. Drive safe, I need you here with me. I love you.

***

“Azzi Fudd! This is Kendra Andrews with ESPN. What are your thoughts on the Sparks franchise?”

“What prompted the move from New York to LA?”

“How do you plan to integrate yourself into the team?”

“What excites you the most about the LA Sparks franchise?”

Dozens of reporters and journalists surround her. They fight amongst each other to thrust microphones into her face. Sweat beads down the back of Azzi’s neck as she tries to answer as many questions as she can while being mindful of her fiancé’s limited patience. He had gone on his phone, ignoring Azzi as she drowns in a sea of cheap cologne and felt-tipped microphones. She quickly interrupts the reporters after 10 minutes and bid a polite farewell. Her heart stings with a bit of remorse when some of the reporters in the crowd express their frustration through whisper-shouts to their colleagues because they got a different answer than what they would’ve hoped. As she makes her way to her fiancé, her head hanging low, she mentally prepares herself for the incoming argument.

“You’re a piece of shit,” her fiancé hisses, “you took ten fucking minutes to talk to some fans.”

“Please, not here. Not while the reporters are still around,” Azzi whispers, frantically scouting for reporters.

“Save your bullshit for later. Call an Uber and get me out of here.” While leading her fiancé towards the airport exit, Azzi picks at her cuticles. “Oh, and next time,” her fiancé continues, “don’t be a pussy-sucking people pleaser and just give them an autograph. I don’t have the time for this, there are better things I should be doing that does not include waiting for you.” Tears begin to well but she blinks them back, trying to put up a facade for the public as she smiles half-heartedly for selfies. The lump in her throat threatens to roll out of her mouth. The thought of a night in the hotel sends a cold bead of sweat down her back. She doesn’t want to be left alone with her fiancé. She doesn’t trust him.

A firm hand grabs Azzi’s wrist, pulling her back into the present. She rips her hand away reflexively before processing the familiar face that belonged to her temporary roommate in Belarus. For the first time since she left New York, Azzi breaks out in a full-faced smile and throws herself into Cam’s open arms.

Her mind wanders to the other future WNBA teammate, who she had not seen since the 2025 WNBA draft. The thought of her quickened her heart, but the feeling sours when she becomes aware of her fiancé by her side.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, oh my god,” Cam laughs, punching Azzi’s arm lightly, a gesture from her USA basketball days when Coach Berube made an off-handed comment. She flinches in response, which Cam chooses to ignore. “Oh, and you must be Azzi’s fiancé. I’ve heard so much about you, and it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Cam,” the blonde chirps, turning her attention to Azzi’s fiancé, offering a friendly smile and a hand. “I don’t think I ever got your name.” Her fiancé remains silent, but his jaw muscles tighten and his cold, green eyes look at her with animosity and spite. Not wanting to raise suspicion, Cam plasters a smile and leads them to her car.

Cam makes a mental note to tell Paige about their interaction with an emphasis on the flinch.

“...This is the Uber you ordered?” her fiancé snarls when the other woman is out of earshot.

“You need to calm down. She’s my teammate, and this is a thoughtful gesture,” Azzi retorts before covering her mouth. Her breathing becomes shallow and her face pales as her fiancé inches his face closer to her ear until his hot, rancid breath drowns out her awareness of everything around her. The hustling environment of the airport disappears and her world is engulfed in silence until four words snap her out of her trance.

“Drop this shit, now.”

***

The ride to the hotel where the two would be temporarily staying was brisk, although Azzi wished it would have lasted longer. The brunettes reminisced on their college days while laughing hysterically.

“Have you talked to Geno after he finally retired?” Cam asks playfully, making eye contact with Azzi through the rear-view mirror. Instead of Azzi’s warm brown eyes, she meets her fiancé’s swampy green eyes. The blonde feels a chill run down her spine, unable to detect any emotion on the fiancé’s face.

“Nope, not at all.” Cam raises her eyebrows, clearly amused.

“Wow, it’s been two years since he retired. He even went to the draft to support you and, um, nevermind.” The blonde shakes her head, cursing to herself. Azzi laughs awkwardly, trying to lift the guilt off her friend’s shoulders, but her fiancé is unamused. “About time though, I thought that he nearly got a heart attack during the March Madness championship in 2025.” The two erupt in laughter, tears falling from their eyes. Her fiancé glares at Cam through the mirror, prompting her to awkwardly change the topic to the Sparks and their team culture. Azzi ignores the glare and continues her conversation with her friend.

Her fiancé isn’t completely out of the loop despite his apathy towards Azzi’s WNBA career. He knows who Paige Bueckers is, the national championship they won in 2025, but he only vaguely knows about the relationship that she and Azzi shared during their collegiate campaigns. If their relationship was an iceberg, her fiancé only sees the tip of the iceberg, the visible part that the media shared, the two in a million SLAM cover, their rise to stardom in USA U16 basketball, and most importantly, their adversities through injury together. What she doesn’t know is the true depth and complexity of their relationship, veiled beneath a thick layer of dark, murky water that neither she nor Paige are ready to uncover. As their lives began to diverge, so did the currents in the water; they pushed and pushed on their relationship until it came crumbling down, splitting the iceberg into two parts that are now just Azzi and just Paige.

Thanking Cam as they slip out of the car, Azzi checks into the hotel room where she and her fiancé sit on opposite sides of the king-sized bed. Her head hangs and she looks at her hands before her fiancé breaks the silence first.

“Hey,” he sighs, walking over to Azzi. When she lifts her head to meet her fiancé’s eyes, branches of tears stream from her eyes and down her cheeks, splitting into multitudes of different directions.

“Am I not good enough for you? One moment you hate me, and the next you’re suddenly in love with me again.” Azzi sobs, pulling her hair in frustration. “I’m trying my hardest, and it hurts when you don’t reciprocate the feelings.” She wipes her eyes while her fiancé stares at her in disbelief, masking his anger. He paces to the door before walking back to Azzi, feigning an empathetic look.

“No, baby, you’re perfect.” Her fiancé mutters , pulling the brunette’s head to his chest as he kisses her forehead softly while wiping her tears. “I love you so much. I appreciate everything you do.” Azzi could feel that his words felt wrong and uncomfortable coming out of his mouth.

“Love you too”

***

Paige walks in circles around her room while Cam summarizes the airport pickup, sprawled out on the blonde’s bed. “You didn’t even get his name. Damn.” Paige’s voice is laced with worry.

“All you need to know is that her fiancé is fucking weird. He was like ‘I’m so sick of this bullshit’ the whole time without speaking a single word. I introduced myself to him like a normal fucking person and he stood there and stared me down, as if I was competition or something.” Cam breathes, putting her face in her hands. Paige feels the same, unable to piece together the puzzling situation. “This whole situation is crazy. I was talking about Geno’s retirement and she hasn’t talked to him in years. Isn’t that weird? I feel like he’s also the jealous type. She wore your Hopkins hoodie and her fiancé kept eyeing it the whole time.”

Paige’s heart skips a beat at her words. Her Hopkins hoodie. The one from the night in Belarus: even though it had been over 10 years, Paige remembers it clearly. It was the first time she was in love. “That’s weird. You picked them up from the airport, and he was glaring at you the entire time in the car. Then, you- like, jokingly punched her. How hard was this punch?”

“KK-punching-Ice-after-losing-a-bet-about-your-life hard.”

“Okay, so not that hard.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard her fiancé call her a stuck-up pussy eater while they argued about the reporters before I picked them up.” Paige raises an eyebrow at the statement before coughing awkwardly, mumbling under her breath.

“Just– be careful Paige. She isn’t yours anymore. I know you’re still not over her,” She winces at her friend’s words, “and it’s the harsh truth, but I seriously think that you need to find someone else to distract you.”

“We both know that finding someone else hasn’t worked for me either. I’m worried about her. She’s my best friend, my ride or die.”

“She betrayed you. You need to move on. Best friends don’t betray each other like… that.”

***

Flanked by her fiancé, Azzi walks through the large, wooden doors of the restaurant next to her hotel. It was a short walk, but she took in the salty smell of the city. The breeze was sharp and it nipped her exposed arms. She was shivering and rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

“You must be Ms. Fudd,” the waitress waiting for her arrival smiles at her, “your table is over here, please follow me.” The short walk through the labyrinth of tables set with velvety red cloths that had a golden trim on its edges was interrupted by a crimson-colored curtain. The chatter behind the curtains feels daunting, and she wants to turn around and run back to Arlington. The waitress pulls the curtain to the side to reveal a table full with people, her teammates, laughing and talking boisterously amongst themselves. The first person to stand up is Cam, who embraces her in a loose hug. Seconds later, nearly all of her new teammates have thrown themselves into her arms.

The last person to stand up is the blonde. Her wavy, blonde hair, lighter from the Californian sun, is tucked behind her ears and falls down her back like a loose shawl. Her skin glows gold against the yellow lighting of the dining room. She wears a freshly ironed button-up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose her toned forearms. Only the right side of her shirt was tucked into her brown trousers that hang loosely from her hip, ghosting her ankles. A beige bomber jacket that matches her pants is slung around her shoulders and a watercolor-patterned scarf is draped around her neck. The gold studs and helix ring on her left ear reflect the light of the chandelier that hangs from chains above the dining table. When their eyes meet, Azzi searches her eyes for a sense of comfort in her familiar blue eyes that her dark mascara emphasizes. Instead, she finds nothing in her cold and emotionless eyes. Paige embraces her new teammate in a stiff and loose hug, her muscles tense when Azzi’s hands roam her back. Immediately, she is engulfed in her rosy perfume, the same scent that she finds solace and comfort in. Her stomach churns, yet there is a certain warmth that flickers in her heart. Everything about the blonde screamed Paige, and Paige is beautiful.

“Welcome to LA,” she says while pulling out of the hug. Refusing to look at her, she turns to the man looming in the corner while offering a hand. At the table, Cam sucks a sharp breath in, casting a warning glance at Paige which is ignored. Azzi stiffens and her heart hammers. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Paige, and you are?”

“I’m Charles,” he murmurs, accepting the handshake and offering a small, sly smile. Azzi’s eyes widen. Her fiancé is rarely friendly, especially not to Paige. They glare at each other for a brief moment before she takes a seat next to Cam.

Her fiancé and her sit side-by-side at the table, across from Paige and Cam. Charles slides his hand into Azzi’s under the table, squeezing it softly. The small gesture makes Azzi smile as she leans into her fiancé, enjoying his comforting presence. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to take her mind off of the blonde sitting directly across from her, laughing with her WNBA teammates. It annoys her.

Azzi is selfish.

***

The entire table has some sort of alcoholic beverage in their hands or in their stomachs. Paige sits awkwardly, sipping a Shirley Temple whose sugary and overly sweet grenadine has become bitter on her tongue. Nausea seeps into the edges of her head and begins to spread like wildfire and she finds herself rubbing circles on her forehead. She can’t stand the sound of Azzi’s bubbly laughter across the table. The sound that threatened to burn a hole through her heart.

“So, how did you guys meet?” Dijonai Carrington cocks an eyebrow at the couple while swirling her cocktail in her cup.

A brief panicked look flashes across Azzi’s face before Charles cuts in. “We met in college.” His answer is curt and dry, yet polite. Several of her teammates cooed at his response, gushing over the couple. The two women jump into a conversation about their college lovers.

That should’ve been me.

“What a fucking people pleaser.” Paige snickers to Cam while blinking back the unwelcome moisture that began to form under her eyes. She throws back the rest of her drink before dropping her head into her arms.

“Are you sure you don’t want any alcohol? Like, a thousand percent positive?” Dearica Hamby, the star forward of the Valkyries asks Paige while rubbing the taller woman’s back. Through the seemingly innocent image of the question, she notices genuine concern painted in the woman’s softened eyes.

“She’s alright without it,” Cam answers before she could open her mouth. “We made an agreement that she would have no alcohol tonight because I had to clean up after her last time.” The entire table howls in laughter, and Paige joins them with a half-hearted smile while heart fractures.

If her smile didn’t split into a frown at the corners of her mouth or her chin didn’t wrinkle, Azzi’s heart wouldn’t have stopped and she would’ve been laughing with her teammates.

“Yeah, I had to show up to her apartment with shoes and a shit load of candy because I felt so guilty.” She sneaks a glance at the brunette sitting across from her. Instead of laughing with the team, she was engaged in a conversation with her fiancé, prompting her to avert her gaze. It takes every piece of her dignity not to stare at the brunette. Her dark, curly hair is braided and hangs just above her shoulders; the same hairstyle that she jokingly called a bob back in their college days. She wears a baby blue knitted tank that reveals her muscular arms and white, flowy linen pants that hug her hips.

However, when Paige’s eyes pass by the soon-to-be married couple, searching for something, they follow the pattern of their intertwined arms and hands hidden under the table. Looking at Cam, she whispers, “I need to get out of here.” the taller woman waves a hand at her, signaling for her to go ahead. She files through her wallet and grabs a few hundred-dollar bills and hands them to Cam, which she graciously accepts. Dearica flashes her a sympathetic look before returning to her drinking game.

“I got a call from my mom and I gotta take it. I’ll be right back.” Announcing to the table, she grabs her phone and stands up, stepping over her drunk and overly rowdy teammates. When she finally slips behind the thick velvet curtain, she finally feels as if she can breathe. The curtain has become a barrier between her and a certain pair of brown eyes that burns holes through the back of her head. She knows that man. The blur of dark curls and olive and brown skin became too vivid. She needs to get out. It hurts her.

Paige is protective.

***

The neat blonde bun disappears behind the curtain with a soft, almost inaudible swoosh. She tries to talk with her teammates, laughing at their jokes, but everything feels forced. The image of Paige's stiff posture and the death grip she had on her phone haunts her. All of a sudden, her fiancé’s once soft hand feels heavy and scratchy against her skin.

“I need some air. I’ll be right back,” She announces as she gets up, dropping her fiancé’s hand. Cam and Dearica pause their argument over their stupid drinking game and stare at her with their mouths agape. There is undeniable panic swirling in both pairs of wide-open eyes, but Cam gives a hesitant nod.

“Is everything alright babe?” Charles’s voice is soft but urgent. “I can come with you.” Azzi looks at him with a warm smile before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

As she exits the restaurant, she is met with an intricate spectacle of orange, pink, and blue. The light of the day quickly disappears, but she discerns a hunched silhouette on the beach that glows under the golden light. Her attention shifts to the orange circle that barely peeks out through the edge of the horizon as it slowly sinks underneath the water, leaving a trail of orange and pink light rippling across the surface of the water. Waves crash loudly against the shore before they are drawn back to the ocean while laughter and joyful screams from children join the peaceful ambience.

“Are you just gonna stand there or do you wanna sit?” A tired voice rips her out of her thoughts as she tears her gaze from the astonishing scene in front of her. She glances at the woman sitting next to her who has her knees up to her chest and her head resting on her forearms. Azzi decides to sit a few feet away from her. For a split second, it feels like their fragmented friendship could be salvaged again.

She slips her sandals off and lets her feet absorb the texture of the flaky sand while shivering when a gust of wind hits her skin. Instead of ignoring the mechanical sound of teeth chattering, Paige shakes the jacket off her shoulders and hands it to her which Azzi graciously accepts. When she wraps it around her shoulders, she is engulfed in the aroma of roses again.

“I thought you had a call to take,” Azzi remarks, her voice soft. Veins snake down the woman’s arms and hands until they disappear behind her knuckles. Her pale skin had become golden and her biceps protrude from the rest of her arm. The neat braids in her hair are now ruffled and frizzy, and small wisps of hair dance with the breeze. On her wrist is a beaded bracelet that reads “RESILIENCE.” The bracelet from her camp before their explosive argument. The sight of it makes her heart flutter, but when she reaches her face, a cold wave of dread washes over her as she notices the smeared mascara and faint patches of salty skin on her cheeks.

“Yeah, I did.” Paige answers bluntly, her voice cracking slightly. An uncomfortable silence falls upon them; the air heavy from their unspoken words. Azzi’s heart throbs at her cold tone. “What brings you out here?” she asks after a few moments.

“I felt nauseous.” Paige scoffs at her response, shaking her head.

“Bullshit.”

“Paige, why are you so fucking blunt?” Azzi exasperates, throwing her hands up in the air in surrender. “You hugged me earlier and that whole time, you were stiff as a rock. It’s been 3 fucking years, it’s time to grow the fuck up.” When Paige says nothing in response, Azzi continues. “I’m trying to be the bigger person here and you’re being unfair. I told you that we can stay friends and then you fucking gho-”

“Your fiancé,” the blonde sneers, tearing Azzi out of her rant. Her voice is shaky and dangerously close to breaking. Through the golden light, she can see the tears brimming behind her smudged eyelashes. “He’s the one that you met at Ted’s, right?” Azzi stays silent, giving Paige the confirmation she needed. “You’re not being the bigger person, not at all. You’re only talking to me because you want something out of me. Azzi, you’re being selfish.” The last word hits Azzi like a cold bucket of water.

“You’re being unfair,” Azzi says shakily, refusing to meet the blonde’s eyes.

Paige lets out a strangled sputter before opening her mouth. “I’m being unfair? Me being mad over you getting cozy with another man after our natty suddenly means that I’m being unfair?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. You’re being unfair because you’re hurting him with your comments. Do you think I can’t hear the derogatory names you’ve called him tonight?” Azzi scrunches her face and turns to the blonde, whose attention is on the sand that snakes between her toes.

“Are you happy?” the older woman finally asks after a period of silence.

“I don’t know.”

“What?” Her blue eyes dart towards hers.

“P.” Paige freezes at the use of her nickname, “I miss you. My offer still stands. We can go back to our friendship.” The last words are quiet, almost as if they aren’t supposed to be spoken. Memories of what they were rush through both of their minds. The women have something unreadable in both of their eyes as they stare at each other.

“No, we.. we can’t.” Paige finally speaks, tearing her gaze away from her, letting out a shaky breath and gets up to leave, but before she can take a step forward, she feels a forceful hand clasp around her wrist that prompts a wave of panic to flood through her. “Azzi, let me go. You can’t do this. You’re getting married soon for god’s sake.”

“Our last night in Belarus, I know you remember it. You wear the same perfume, you even gave me your hoodie. Shit, Paige, that was the time I knew that I fell in love with you. Every little thing you did for me felt like you were giving me your entire world. You fell in love with me too. Every argument we had, we made up, and we can make up from this too. I’m asking you to believe in us again. I won’t leave you.” For a split second, Paige’s eyes soften and she lets her walls down. She desperately wants to let go of her "tough guy" facade and let herself taste Azzi's lips again.

“No. You don’t get to say that now. Not when you have a fiancé waiting for you in the restaurant.” The vulnerability that Paige showed is once again blocked by the ramparts of her castle. The remembrance of Charles’s presence hits Azzi like an 18-wheeler. “It’s evident that you can’t own up to any of the mistakes that you made.”

“You’re not taking any accountability for it either! Do you think I haven’t tried?” Paige flinches, backing away from Azzi who is now screaming. “You had to address it at the fucking draft. For fuck’s sake, let me explain my side of the story.”

“I tried to give you space because clearly, you wanted to fuck around with him. You don’t get to explain your side of the story. It was the night of the March Madness championship and you ch-”

“Oh, shit.” A new voice joins their argument. Paige whips her head around and sees Dearica and Cameron looking at them with wide eyes. “Azzi, I don’t think you should-”

“No it’s okay,” Paige feigns a smile before pulling out of Azzi’s grip. “Welcome to the City of Dreams, Azzi. I’m sorry for having to leave so abruptly.”

And she’s gone. Packed away in the backseat of an Uber. It hurts Azzi more than it should. The doors to Paige’s heart that used to be held open for Azzi are now barricaded off, isolating her.

“What the fuck happened?” The blonde turns to Azzi with an edge of hostility in her tone. Dearica glares at her, and Azzi’s heart free-falls into her stomach.

“Azzi?!” Charles’s deep voice calls out, and Azzi is grateful to be saved from the awkward confrontation. When his eyes land on her, they soften and he wraps her into a tight embrace. Every piece of contact between them feels scratchy and uncomfortable, especially in Paige’s jacket. “Don’t fucking leave me again.” He snarls into her ear before glaring at her jacket.

The other women turn to leave before exchanging an uncomfortable look with each other.

***

An empty bottle of tequila is the only company Paige has on her bar table. Right as she lets the effects of the alcohol take her consciousness, her front door flies open. Every muscle in her body tenses and she buries her head into her arms in hopes that she will disappear.

“P?” It’s Cam. Her body relaxes.

A second pair of heavy footsteps make their way to the table. She stiffens again.

“It’s me, don’t worry. You’re alright” The other voice belongs to Dearica. She exhales and looks up. Cam’s eyes are fixed on the empty bottle of tequila and a heavy breath falls out of her mouth.

“Again? Seriously, Paige?” When Paige puts her head back down into her arms, Cam’s hands rub her back.

“Yeah. Again.” Sobs begin to wreck the blonde’s body and she shakes violently. Dearica and Cam exchange a panicked look before embracing their teammate.

“I’m sorry, Paige. What she did is fucked up” Dearica’s voice is soft and reassuring. “We tried to talk to her but, her, um, we were interrupted.” She and Cam are walking on thin ice; one bad step and their teammate will plunge in the freezing cold water.

“Let’s get you to bed. You have a big day tomorrow, so let’s make the most out of it.” Cam and Dearica carry their teammate, whose body is shaking violently while sobbing to bed.

For the 5th night in a row, she cries herself to sleep.

I need you.

***

“Charles, why do you want to marry me?”

“Because I love you baby, and I want to spend every second of my life with you. With us.”

“...Okay.”

“I promise I’ll never hurt you. I’ll be the one to protect you forever.”

“Azzi Fudd. What the fuck was that?” Charles sneers. His emerald eyes are alive, burning with acrimony. She doesn’t look up from her phone screen where her fingers shakily hover over the call button under Paige’s name.

“I’m sorry? I told you I was getting some air and I ran into Paige.” Her tone is surprisingly even and steady despite her trembling body. When a dark look falls across his face, she shudders. Suddenly, her phone is ripped from her hands and shattered against the wall with a loud smash that rings in her ears.

“Don’t fucking talk back to me. You saw what happened to your phone, and I know that you don’t want to be next.” He slams the door of their hotel room and stomps down the hall. When she doesn't hear the obnoxiously loud footsteps anymore, she allows her body to collapse and cries into her pillow while she thinks about the promises that they made on their engagement night.

I need you.

#pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #angst #pazzi fics #Spotify

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starmosaics · 3 months ago

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Mars in the 8th House pt. 2/3

If you haven’t read the 1st part here’s a link to the original post :)

Today I’m focusing on transformation, life and death situations and possible struggles with mental health and substance abuse.

Those with Mars in the 8H frequently face unforeseen events in their life which catalyzes incredible changes. Some of these events are catastrophic. These people can completely alter their lives by brute will or they will be met with challenges which push them towards making necessary changes.

Common events I’ve seen/experienced that pushes an 8H Mars towards transformation:

-Death of a loved one, loss of any kind

-Near death experiences

-A breakup/divorce

-Overcoming addiction

-Releasing/healing trauma

-Inheritance

There’s many times where these people feel isolated and left in the dark; some may feel like they’ve lost everything even their sense of self. Many 8H Mars individuals have experienced and been exposed to very difficult and painful events which is one of the most challenging aspects of this placement. Life has its ups and downs and for these people, that’s never ending. The most important thing is that they are so persevering and are quite determined to follow through to reach the other end after facing difficulties. I’ve seen people with this aspect go through hell and eventually got out of that dark place and became a totally different person; shedding one’s skin. I myself feel like I have already lived 10 different lives. The 8th House forcefully causes one to experience changes within their mental state, physical bodies, or spiritual lives; the 8th House can quite literally strip your identity causing you to have to completely build yourself up again.

These people may feel like they got the short end of the stick when it comes to certain situations that they've been dealt leading them to succumbing to their fears and experiencing chaos and disheveledness leaving them feeling trapped, but something to remind these folks is that when they feel like they’ve hit rock bottom, the closer they are to transforming themselves or an area of their lives along with gaining grit and profound wisdom. The 8th House wants you to go inwards, identify the parts of yourself or your life you can't face, to take the reins and evolve. Sometimes it requires metaphorically (sometimes literally, but hopefully not) dying first to become reborn.

T/W: Abuse, substance use, heavy topics mentioned!!

In terms of an 8H Mars’ mental health, there’s quite a distinctive pattern. As we’ve established earlier that what kind of experiences these people might face, the events that alters one's life naturally will heavily impact one's mental health. I know 4 other people with this placement (along with myself) who have some form of psychiatric disorder; most commonly Bipolar disorder, Paranoia, MDD (major depressive disorder), and BPD. Many have experienced events (commonly during childhood, teen years, and early twenties) that lead to signs/a diagnosis of CPTSD (complex post traumatic stress disorder).

Substance abuse is also very common to those who have this placement. Either a family member of theirs struggled with it, or they themselves did. Everyone I know who has this placement including myself has either had a family member who struggled with addiction, or have personally struggled with addiction; sometimes both. 8th house represents something you inherit and unfortunately sometimes it's the inter-generational cycle of addiction. Substance use disorders and mental disorders are sometimes heritable. This isn't meant to scare you or make you feel bad if you have faced any battles with substances. Addiction doesn't have to be your whole life story, just a chapter. Those who I know who previously struggled with addiction and turned their lives around are happier than ever.

Here are some famous people with an 8H Mars that struggled with their mental health and substance abuse:

-Marilyn Monroe (Alleged Bipolar disorder, substance use disorder)

-Robin Williams (MDD, substance use disorder)

-Amanda Bynes (Bipolar disorder, abused stimulants)

-Sid Vicious (Showed signs of personality disorder, substance use disorder)

-Drew Barrymore (Substance use disorder, MDD)

-Courtney Love (Substance use disorder, Autism)

-Lil Peep (Bipolar disorder, substance use disorder)

-Anthony Bourdain (MDD, substance abuse)

More than half of these famous people also struggled in childhood due to the impact of their family members; Marilyn Monroe had a traumatizing childhood and was living in multiple foster homes and orphanages due to her alcoholic and schizophrenic mother being unable to care for her, Amanda Bynes facing sexual abuse by Dan Schneider as a child, Sid Vicious' mother was neglectful and gave him hero*n when he was a teenager, Drew Barrymore had a mother who influenced and fueled Drew's coca*ne and alcohol addiction before she was even 15 years old, and Courtney Love's father was deemed to be unstable and a horrible father. He allegedly gave her LSD as a child and also physically abused her when she was 17 after visiting him in Ireland.

I don't want to fully air this story out, but I had a friend who was like a sibling to me and their dad abandoned them during their teenage years and their mother was unable to work due to her schizophrenia and substance abuse; she would have us pick up cigarettes and get drugs for her when we were 16/17. This friend has experienced a lot of pain and is still struggling with their own demons and mental health and i'm no longer in their life due to their choices and influence on me, but I still think about them all the time. I wish them the best and hope they eventually find their way back to themselves. They're one of the smartest people I've ever met.

In my own personal life, my dad was never in the picture and my mother (who I believe also had an 8H Mars) struggled with mental illness and substance abuse, so I lived with my grandmother, who I eventually found out also abused substances, but was more "stable". After my mom passed literally from alcohol deteriorating her body when I was 17, I decided I had to keep distance from my family and moved out as soon as I could and since then my life has totally changed. I heavily smoked weed from the ages 16-19, I'm addicted to cigarettes, I am very wary about my alcohol consumption, and I inherited my mom and grandmother's mental illness. If it weren't for my upbringing, I wouldn't possess the wisdom I have today. Yes my childhood was fked up, but it made me immensely resilient. I have experienced life and death literally and metaphorically many many times.

I'm not saying that if you have this placement you're bound to struggle with addiction and have a tragic life story filled with trauma and pain, but unfortunately a more common thing I see in those who do have this placement have struggled with trauma, substances, abuse, and family dynamics. And like I said with the transformational aspect of the 8th House, many people overcame their demons and traumas. There's always an option for recovery in any scenario which is also associated with the 8H, and sometimes destruction (Mars) and chaos is needed for rebirth. In a less extreme manner, 8th House Martians may just struggle with generalized depression and anxiety.

Another thing I've noticed about those with an 8H Mars placement is that they let their anger seethe until it eventually boils over leading to an outburst. They may experience super intense meltdowns due to not healthily coping. Emotional regulation might be difficult for these natives in general.

On one end Mars rules destruction, conflict, death, assaults, and violence. On the other, it represents ambition, overcoming, exertion, determination, encouragement, strength, one's ability, and facing fears.

If you have an 8H Mars and faced any of the struggles above or anything similar and need someone to talk to you can always message me! I want this post to encourage the people who may feel stuck or are in a rough place that they can overcome whatever is thrown at them. Remember crisis comes first, then evolution and finally, total transformation. <3

In the 3rd and final part we'll go over struggles within intimate relationships 8H Mars folks might face and "taboo" topics these natives might enjoy.

#8h mars #8th house mars #mars 8th house #8th house #8h #mars #astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astro community #m

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physalian · 2 months ago

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When To Keep Your Writing Stiff (pt 7)

Part 6

Part 1

Gonna shoutout a specific fanfic, “Salvage” (ATLA) for writing that is even leaner than mine is, and mine has zero fat whatsoever. This was really good. I particularly like how some scenes were only 2 or 3 lines long as an example of what I’m going for here.

When I say “stiff” in the following examples I’m specifically talking about a lot of the same syntax, few similes and metaphors, few ‘said’ synonyms, very little, well, “life” in the prose. And this can be good in a few situations.

1. Your narrator is in shock

Shock doesn’t all look the same, but the kind of shock I mean is the one where the person is really quiet and un-emotive, they’re probably not speaking or reacting much to whatever catastrophe just happened and probably not responding to their name or anything spoken to them. Their body is pretty much going “uhhhhhhhhh factory reset!” when whatever it is, is too much to process.

A asks them a question. Once. Twice. B stares ahead. There’s a brown stain on the wall that looks like a thumb.

So if they’re narrating, they’re probably going to be giving the absolute bare minimum, need-to-know information and won’t be thinking about the best adjectives and adverbs. Especially if you normally write with fluffier prose, a jarring shift like this can really help sell the shock and dissociating of the character, something so traumatizing that it effects how the story is told.

2. Your narrator is depressed

Somewhere between New Moon’s 4 pages of just Months to show Bella did absolutely nothing in a depression rot and normal prose (though it was effective, particularly in the movie when they could draw out the words on the screen for longer and did the whole spin-around-her-depression-chair montage).

January came. It rained a lot.

They’ll probably either narrate very thinly, or listlessly. They might focus on a random detail and start going on a long ramble about that one detail that isn’t at all important, but it’s either all they can think about or all that can move them to feel anything in this moment, like:

On the bedside table, that coffee mug still sat there in a thin sheet of dust. What had been liquid now long since dry and gluey. It still sits there, collecting cat fur.

This might be the best place for sentences that all sound and flow exactly the same, but use it sparingly.

3. Your narrator is having a panic attack or trapped in a traumatic situation

Different from shock in that while they are physically capable of moving and interacting, they can’t let themselves describe what they’re seeing and feeling in grand detail. Maybe they’re moving through the horrific aftermath of a battle and all they can describe is the mud under their feet and how it squelches. Or they simply say that “there’s bodies everywhere” because looking too long or too hard at who those bodies belonged to is too much.

4. You’re writing something that has incredibly fast pacing

This post was inspired by a fic I just wrote that spanned about 5 months in about 18k words. Narrative was skipping days ahead between paragraphs at some point as my character was processing the end of an abusive relationship. It sped up and slowed down where necessary, but compared to its sequel that I also just finished (22k words across 7 days), I’d covered a whole month in about 2 sentences in the first one.

See nearly any part of Salvage (or my fics if you feel like it)

What happened in that month didn’t matter, only what was before and what’s different now and how this character realizes how their life is slowly changing, some things they never noticed that are suddenly right in their face or things that quietly slipped away.

—

TLDR; sometimes the lack of emotion and sensory details and frenetic, dynamic syntax is the point, that can sell the reader on the narrator’s mental state far better than picking the juiciest adverbs. If it’s so impactful to them that the physical telling of the story is changed, you’ve done your job.

#writing #writeblr #writing a book #writing advice #writing resources #writing tools #writing tips #syntax #writing style #narrative structure

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mando-fando · 7 months ago

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The Other Man Pt. 2

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Wife!Reader

Words: 2.8k

Interdimensional travel is a tricky thing. Miguel discovered that when he was working the bugs out in his gadgets and researching everything he could about alternate universes.

The first anomaly appeared in Peter B Parker’s universe. It was long before the Spider Society existed. Just a 50’s style, cartoon Vulture that popped up in the middle of Peter B’s NYC. Miguel followed the Vulture and found himself with some assistance in returning the flapping bird to where he belonged.

Peter and Miguel hit it off right away. Soon, Peter B had his own watch and access to Lyla’s vast database. Miguel and Peter still didn’t know the extent of the damage that Kingpin’s collider had done to the multiverse; they were simply playing it by ear.

He stumbled across you almost accidentally. In your universe, Peter Parker was still a kid, a few years out from getting bitten by his spider. For the time being, your universe was relatively normal. So, Miguel didn’t really have a reason to watch you, your husband, and your daughter.

Overnight, it seemed, your lives were always playing in the background on his monitor. He watched you and became obsessed with the normalcy of it all. He took solace in knowing that there was a universe out there where a different Miguel woke up every day and did everything right.

Your universe became essentially a control group for Miguel. He began developing algorithms to predict when the next anomaly would show up, using your universe to feed the algorithm data.

He would have the algorithm predict what you’d make for dinner on a random day, what your husband would do at Alchemax, and what questions your daughter would ask in class.

After a few months, it was spot on.

He knew your family’s routine like the back of his hand, but he could never look back on your past. He could only watch what was happening in the present, and use the algorithm that he and Lyla developed to predict your future. Miguel only had educated guesses about where you and your husband met, how long you’d been together, and the idiosyncrasies of your family life.

One day, as he was watching you cook breakfast for your daughter, the computer alerted him to an unusual event that was set to follow the next day: your husband’s death. A panic went through Miguel for you and your daughter. Your life was perfect, there was no way that something so catastrophic could happen to you. He tweaked the model, assuring himself that there was a problem with the coding.

Time and time again, your husband’s death was predicted. He looked over at you and Gabriella on his monitor, and his heart sank. You two were going to undergo such a tragedy, and there was nothing he could do.

An irrational thought crossed Miguel’s mind. He studied your husband’s likeness, his clothes, his mannerisms for months. He could…could he?

Should he?

The next day, he donned a white, collared sweatshirt and some slacks, the same thing your husband put on before heading to work. Miguel watched all three monitors like a hawk: you, your husband, and your daughter’s respective daily routines.

Night fell, and he watched your husband divert from his usual commute home to head to a panaderia in a sketchy part of town. He was getting some pan dulce for his daughter’s breakfast after hearing that she aced another spelling test.

It happened in an instant. A woman screamed, your husband’s sense of justice kicked in. Moments later, he lay in a pool of his own blood. A tie had been severed.

Miguel portaled in, almost without a second thought. He methodically emptied your husband’s pockets and donned his wedding band. A few hours later, Miguel walked in your front door as if nothing had happened. You jumped into his arms, and he felt himself fall for you in a heartbeat.

Guilt had wracked his brain every day since. He knew you were suspicious. He’d seen you watching him out of the corner of your eye. He saw the way you narrowed your eyes at him.

You started becoming cold towards him. You were less affectionate, less interested in his touch or kind words. Even if you couldn’t put your finger on it, you knew there was something amiss.

You were smart. You claimed that science wasn’t your strong suit, but Miguel saw you catch on to complicated subjects quickly when you helped Gabi with her homework or asked him about his day at work. A part of him thought that you might understand if he explained that he was from another dimension.

Today, you were being particularly cold towards him. You’d taken Gabi to your parents’ house for a weekend camping trip, and you were in the kitchen. It almost seemed like you were trying to find something to do so Miguel wouldn’t bother you.

The emotions he felt about the whole situation were so complex; he didn’t know how you’d react, and he couldn’t blame you. He’d stolen your husband’s life, essentially. Would you care that he only did it to save you and your daughter from devastation? Would you be able to love him the way he loved you?

Miguel walked into the kitchen and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. You wrenched your body away from his grasp. “Don’t touch me.”

Miguel took a step back and put his hands up defensively. “Amor, I want to talk to you about something.”

You whipped around with an irate expression. “Do you finally have an explanation for how insane you’ve been acting?”

“I… I do, actually.” Miguel watched you lean your back against the counter and cross your arms. “It’s going to sound outlandish.”

“You could tell me that you’ve been abducted by fucking aliens, and I’d believe you. I’m sick of not knowing what’s going on with you!” You raised your voice at him.

“Okay. Before I begin, I want you to know that I didn’t do anything with malicious intent. The complete opposite, actually.” He tried to gauge your reaction and carried on. “I’m not the Miguel

O’Hara you married, but I think a part of you knows that already…”

You eyed him suspiciously, but kept silent.

“I’m from a different dimension. I was born in a city called Nueva York. I was a geneticist, just like your husband. But, when I was in my late 20s, I had an accident at Alchemax which changed the nature of my DNA. In my dimension, I’m a hero named Spiderman.”

You were surprisingly calm. You looked at him with a skeptical expression, but you wanted to hear more. You needed an explanation, any explanation, of what the hell was going on. You were pregnant, and that was all the proof you needed that you’d been sharing your bed with someone else.

“Why are you called ‘Spiderman?’” You asked.

Miguel continued to search your expression for fear or incredulousness. “The genetic sequence that my DNA was spliced with was half spider.”

A disgusted look flashed across your face.

“In my universe, there were quantum theorists and physicists who were on the verge of interdimensional travel. I took the research that they did and combined it with my own knowledge of biomechanics and created this,” Miguel pulled up his sleeve and showed you the bulky contraption on his wrist.

“As far as I know, I’m the first person to ever make an autonomous jump to another dimension. Once I had been to a few different universes, I started to research and document the differences. That’s when I stumbled across your family.

“I enjoyed knowing there was a version of myself out there that was happy. My life in my dimension was pretty miserable sometimes, but things were a little easier to swallow knowing that I was capable of humanity somewhere in the multiverse. I wanted your family to have the perfect life that you deserve.” He paused and looked away for a moment.

“There was a prediction from my model that your husband was going to die.”

Your eyebrows shot up in concern. “What?”

Miguel sighed, knowing how badly you were going to take the news. “He was going to get pan dulce across town after work. A woman was getting mugged, and he intervened. It cost him his life…”

You felt your heart break in your chest as you gasped. Suddenly, your legs collapsed from beneath you. Miguel caught you before you hit the floor.

Your husband. Your darling, lovely perfect husband was gone, and some monster had taken his place.

You couldn’t see past the tears that flooded your vision, and you couldn’t help yourself from pressing your face in the chest of the man who looked just like him.

“I know…” Miguel caressed your hair. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Your love story had come to an end. Every shared glance, every evening doting over your daughter, every morning tangled in the sheets was gone. The pain was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

Miguel carried your sobbing, screaming figure to the bed. He laid next to you as a tear slid down his own cheek. The screams that emanated from you were haunting; he still heard them in his nightmares to this day.

You wore yourself out so profoundly that you simply lost consciousness. Miguel’s mind swirled with doubt and guilt. He thought back to the moments he’d witnessed on his monitor between the two of you. He was never able to find a flaw in either of you, nor your daughter. Now, he’d thrown a huge wrench in everything. Maybe he’d made a mistake in taking your husband’s place.

You stirred in bed next to him a few hours later. Your face was puffy and your voice was hoarse, but you looked at him with rage. You leapt out of bed before Miguel was fully awake. Instinctually, he activated his suit. His talons and claws shone under the digital fabric.

You screamed again in fear and confusion. Miguel deactivated the suit, returning to the normal clothes he was wearing.

You slid down the wall, cradling your knees. Fear, exhaustion, confusion, and heartbreak clouded your mind.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you!” Miguel looked panicked. He took a step towards you cautiously.

“Why did you come here!?” You screamed at him.

“I- I don’t know. I couldn’t handle the idea of Gabriella being without a father.”

“You’re NOT her father!” You stood up and took a step towards him.

“I know…”

“I’m pregnant.” The words spilled from your mouth before you had a chance to think. “That’s how I knew. That you’re not him, I mean.” You were rambling. “My husband had a vasectomy. When the test came back positive, I had proof…”

A wave of nausea hit you as you realized the man you slept with wasn’t your husband. You ran to the bathroom and Miguel followed.

He was speechless. He held your hair back as you gripped the sides of the toilet, and he rubbed your back as his mind raced.

He was thrust into uncharted territory. How would a baby with parents from two different dimensions fare? How would you fare? He couldn’t even begin to comprehend the ramifications of his stupid actions.

Miguel had seen you and your husband’s intimate moments before. He had always wondered why Gabi never had a sibling, but he made the assumption that you had some sort of contraceptive. The idea that your husband had a vasectomy never even crossed his mind.

You sat up from the toilet and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Miguel stood up quickly to grab you a washcloth.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” You asked as your chest heaved. You could feel a migraine beginning to set in.

“I need to go back to my lab and run some tests.” The lack of emotion in his voice cut you.

You remembered your husband’s reaction to your first pregnancy, how he lit up so brightly at the news. To the man in front of you, your pregnancy seemed to be a liability and nothing more.

You glared at him as you took the washcloth. You pressed it to your forehead. A long moment of silence passed.

He reached out slowly and touched your cheek. “I’m sorry…”

“People die all the time, you know.” You said flatly. “You make it sound like my husband’s death was predetermined. If that’s what fate had in store for him, and for us, then that’s the way it was meant to be…”

You stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror. Miguel stood, too, and watched you. “Gabi and I would’ve figured it out. We would’ve gotten through it together.”

“I know you would’ve. You’re an incredible mother.” You watched him stare at you in the reflection. He was looking at you with sympathy and love. You felt your heart flutter. Guilt followed immediately after. The rollercoaster of emotions was exhausting.

“Go figure out what the fuck is going to happen to me.” You turned to look at him. “We need to know sooner rather than later. I could use some space from you, too. I’m still upset.” You crossed your arms and looked away from him.

He took your comments in stride and gave you another look of sympathy. He activated his suit and tapped away at the device on his wrist.

You covered your ears as a loud mess of colors and lights tore a hole open in your room. Miguel was gone in an instant.

Miguel tore through the portal and stepped into his lab in the building that would eventually become the Spider Society.

“Lyla,” he called as he walked over to his computer.

“Look who’s back? How’s married life treatin’ ya?” She asked sarcastically.

“Contact Peter and prepare the lab. We need to run some tests.”

Hours later, Miguel and Peter were driving themselves mad trying to find a circumstance where tissue from two different dimensions remained stable. The results were grim, time after time.

“Miguel, this is-” Peter began.

“Don’t even say it.” Miguel growled. Peter had never heard him take that tone before.

Every possible multi-dimensional combination ended in decay.

The facts stared back at Miguel, and he had to face reality. He pinched the bridge of his nose when his computer alerted him to an anomaly in your universe. Then, another. And another.

Hundreds of bizarre events were occuring in your universe. The tides stopped, gravity changed, and worst of all, things and people all over the world were glitching.

A massive hole opened underneath your version of Brooklyn.

Miguel and Peter suited up and ran in.

“Go find your wife and daughter, I’ll see what I can find out!” Peter called. Miguel nodded and ran at a breakneck speed towards your home.

He found you on the ground, half concious.

“Amor,” he called. He held you in his arms, and he knew he was too late.

“Miguel,” you tried to smile, but you glitched in his arms and groaned out in pain.

He picked you up and began to run towards the campground where Gabi was.

It felt like every cell of your body was on fire. You stared up at him, and a part of you knew that he had something to do with your universe tearing at the seams. Slowly, you were slipping out of his grasp like sand.

Miguel kept his gaze trained on you. He had no idea how he was going to fix this.

“Find her. Save her.” Those were your last words. Miguel blinked and you were gone.

Shock overcame him. He found himself on all fours hurdling towards your daughter. He heard her in the distance, and swooped her up before swinging the opposite way.

He saw Peter in the distance and ran from the white emptiness that began consuming the city.

If he could save Gabriella, it might have been worth it.

He ran, pushing his superspeed to the limit as Gabi screamed in his arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” He tried to reassure her as he tucked her into his chest. He saw people in front of him simply vanish, and fear gripped his heart like a vice.

If he could get away from the crowd for just a minute, he could portal away with your daughter.

He continued running, seeing an opening in the distance.

“Papa!” Gabi cried. He looked down, and she was gone. He stopped dead in his tracks. To him, there was nothing left worth saving. The whiteness enveloped him, and soon, Miguel and Peter stood in a vast, empty nothing.

“Miguel, we have to go. We don’t know what’s going to happen.” Peter tugged on his arm.

The words fell on deaf ears. Miguel was still staring down at his empty grasp, wondering where his daughter had gone.

Peter dragged him through the portal.

Time was a blur for awhile after that. Lyla analyzed every scrap of data, Peter recruited more spider-people, and the canon was discovered.

Miguel swore to never let it happen again.

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #across the spiderverse

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therightrighthand · 3 months ago

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So the votes came in, and as promised, the Fallout variant of Del for the Del-verse DEE, the (semi) super mutant! This is actually a pt.1 of 2 because another idea for a Fallout Del came to be in the process that works in parallel, so you lucky bunch get 2 Del's for the price of one!

And obligatory ref sheet for Dee and her best pal in the world, Rolls!

Lore:

[???] "Audio recording, date [REDACTED] between Doctor Langstrum, Senior Institute Bio Division, and myself [REDACTED] regarding project D.31, and D.31-B."

[D] "Hello [REDACTED] Hows [REDACTED]?"

[???] "no formalities, please, Doctor. This is a report, not a casual chit-chat. Let us start with Subject D.31, who were they, and why were they picked for projects D.31-A and D.31-B"?

[D] "Oh, right, of course, god forbid we act like people in this place. But, yes, right, straight to business. Let me go on record to remind everyone this project was over 20 years in the making with plenty of oversight, so I refuse to take the blame for D.31-A and B's cost and actions."

[???] "Answer the question, Doctor Langstrum"

[D] "Fine!- Fine. During my early tenure as the Senior Head of the Bio Division, I inherited a task to find suitable host subjects that showed signs of advanced evolution on the surface. Whilst [REDACTED] was busy trying to look for Vaults, I focused on the livestock not on ice."

"After a few years of blood testing, we eventually came across subject D.31. A 'raider' with an unfathomable resistance to radiation without grotesque mutation. Truly an anomaly of evolution, which we believe could unlock the secrets of radiation immunity. In principle." "After 'acquiring' the D.31 we transported her back to the institute and kept her body in cryogenic storage for future study and experimentation. Since then she has been the base DNA code for various projects and studies."

[???] "In this stage of the interview, I'd like us to focus on subject D.31-B, the 'Semi-Super mutant'?"

[D] "I resent that name! Our project far exceeds the original, there is nothing sub par-. Hmph, let me exsplain. The F.E.V virus (Forced Evolution Virus) left to run rampant on the surface only served to create powerful, idiotic monsters. Our Institute variant, the I.F.E.V was designed to improve on the formula using D.31's DNA to create 'Super Drones'." "By limiting their strength, increasing their endurance, allowing for a moderate intellect and mental programming, we would be able to prepare ourselves for the future! Imagine a workforce that is compliant, invulnerable to radiation, able to consume toxic food, strong enough to cultivate the land, clean up the pollution and build cities to our specifications! They would prepare the surface for the humanities future population"

[???] "This project is a recent project correct?"

[D] "Yes, at least one that has taken over 20 years to refine"

[???] "And how many of these "Super Drones" have been produced?"

[D] "...one"

[???] "One?"

[D] "It is still in its infancy. Our first trial subject, subject D.31-B, is still above us now, and we are still collecting data."

[???] "Tell me more about D.31-B"

[D] "D.31-B is the I.F.E.V built clone of subject D.31, who remains in cryo-stasis. With her DNA, we were able to create D.31-B and use her underlining consciousness to build the basic cognitive functions."

[???] "So D.31-B shares memories with D.31?"

[D] "Oh no, no, no, no, that would be catastrophic, we learnt our lesson with D.31-A. D.31-B's memories of her original source are removed, leaving only the basics intact, talking, eating, sleeping, so on, and with our programming, she was ready to get to work immediately after deployment."

[???] "How has D.31-B's progress been so far?"

[D] "Very good in fact. We left her to wander in a safe and isolated part of the commonwealth, and immediately she began to gather resources, build shelter and even cultivate land. All without any prompting or instruction, as she was programmed to do. Granted, her physical appearance has gotten her into trouble with people on the surface, being a mutant and all, but she's proven to be combat effective enough to stay alive." "Interestingly, she is now travelling with a companion as their follower, only reaffirming her subservient nature to help rather than follower her own goals. She even has a name, 'Dee', which I imagine is after the brand-code marking on her arm"

[???] "How is that not a security risk in and of itself, Doctor?

[D] "That's the beauty of our programming! Despite the obvious clue to her origins, she actively ignores it at every step. In a few more months we may even have a case to pitch this to the board for a full rollout."

[???] "Hmph, indeed. Thank you Doctor, that's everything I need for now regarding D.31, and D.31-B. Now, I'd like to turn our attention to the next topic of this interview. D.31-A. The Proptype."

[D] "... It's been 10 years [REDACTED], Sure they are a problem but, if they haven't found us by now then the-" [ Interview end ]

-- Find my Discord and other sites: linktr.ee/The_red_right_hand Do not use, repost or claim (rp) my art/character Art © The-Red-Right-Hand

#my artwork #oc #sci fi #del-verse #fallout #fallout 4 #super mutant #Dee #D.31 #D.31-B

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butterabrod · 7 months ago

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Old Michelle's Q&A, pt.5

I guess I've been loitering about this for too long

I've always thought of Nevy as of one of the smartest and cuning demons in the cast. Instead of terrorising her vessel or beign their doormat, she formed a strong bond with Gil. And I was thinking it is genuine somewhat mother (or like older sister) love from Nevy to our lil salty blue boy.

But... from this panel, I've started to doubt her.

Most of the fandom at that time was worring that the pink lady is becoming weaker and/or growing sick. But even then I was thinking that being the ghost of one of the strongest creatures in the universe, how is it possible for her to be that weak for such a short period of time as like ~13ish years?

Gil is the only person she has met who can interact with her. I can't really blame her for beign pushy: he and his promise to help are the only thing she's got, and she as practically immortal being has seen how weak he is, and his life is short. Nevy really is on a timer with him.

But what seemed to me as her caring about Gil, now feels like Nevy thinking only about herself.

Gil, as a victim of terrible catastrophe decided to become a doctor to help others like him. It was natural for him to go and help those who were in need.

Now this moment doesn't feel like her genuine sadness and guilt. I think, she just needed a reassurrence, that she is still the most important thing for him in the whole universe.

Still, I've thought that Nevy has developed a new more honest and loving personality while being amnisiac. And she changed that much because she remembered a lot of her past.

But did she?

Did she, thought?

I think Gil will never get out of toxic cult. Yes, he does have someone who is more important than TITAN as Michelle said.

It's Nevy, who's not only a politician.

She IS priestess

And she's not ashamed at all to use religious imagery to influence Gil even more.

She's not ashamed to show a very lonely orphan boy that she, his only friend with mother figure vibes could 'die painfully' because of his disobedience

When one of the most assholic couples in the universe says that someone is not trustworthy - it is says volumes

Talking about couples. I think that Gil has no chances to not to fall for Odin

Also I find it sus that Nevy remembered the feeling of beign in love not near Ava, Wrathia's vessel, but near Pedri's vessel, Odin.

I'm sure she sees herself as the God of love, Venus, Aphrodite or even Eros. People of Antiquity era believed that love and passion were forms of madness. In a bad way, even gods feared Eros.

And I think she's forcing Gil to fall in love with Odin just to make him even more despirate and lonely, to save her status as the only reliable thing for him in the whole Universe.

At that point Gil was trying to become the best follower, just to have a chance to learn somethig about Nevy's past. Maggie was the first person in 8 years to remind him, that he might have his own questions.

And I think Nevy has already failed her vibe check to Odin

Here is a list of much-much-much better theories and their authors

@biofluxitecovetess https://www.tumblr.com/biofluxitecovetess/182904787000/hello-everyone-i-have-another-theory-so-before?source=share

@crazyangrycupcake https://www.tumblr.com/crazyangrycupcake/183163318965/nevy-makes-this-face-when-she-tells-ava-shes?source=share

@doublethetheories https://www.tumblr.com/doublethetheories/184836709578/gils-dream-dissection?source=share

And another thing to think about

#ava's demon #avas demon #webcomic #webtoon #gil #gil marverde #Nevy #nevy nervine #odin #odin arrow #pedri #pedri nanezgani #wrathia #wrathia bellarmina

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igncrxntripley · 2 years ago

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their secret weapon pt. 9

synopsis: finn begins the process of getting himself out of the dog house...but will he succeed?

a/n: Y’ALL???? THE ABSOLUTE WORKOUT I WENT THROUGH WRITING THIS THING...AND THE MINDFUCK OF A STORY I HAVE PLANNED...

mentions: NSFW 18+, poly!judgement day, minor descriptions of violence in matches, fem!reader, bottom!reader, top!finn, kissing, grinding, penetration, cumshot on reader, scratching, clawing, leaving marks,

taglist: @thesithdiaries @cassiesgreta @roseheartsworld @theworldofotps @babybatlover @ripleyswhore @auburnwrites @obl1vionblackhart @emogoblin-666 @hereliespumpkin @blxxdshxteyes @neptune-lover @bunnysmyname @i-have-issues-lol @ares-athena @thatonepansexual2000 @witcherfromwallachia

the next time the judgement day was set to compete, it was a mixed tag team match for a taping of smackdown. the fivesome had spoken a bit since the catastrophe that was finn’s match against johnny, but it had been a minute since they had all been together as a whole group. someone was always with y/n to make sure she was okay and had what we needed, but y/n and finn hadn’t said so much of a word.

that was all about to change, though.

officials gave finn the opportunity to pick which of the girls he wanted as his partner for the match; damian and dominik would have their own segment later in the night, so they weren’t going to be competing in this match. but they were all on the same page in assuming rhea would be the one to go into this tag match with finn. they were all in the dressing room, and rhea started grabbing her things to get ready. “i’ll be ready shortly, finn-”

the irishman cut her off with a gentle shake of his head. “no need, love. i was going to ask y/n if she’d go with me.” he said, his voice almost shy as he said those words. he was met with looks of shock from all four of his partners, especially y/n, who was confused he even wanted anything to do with her. she wasn’t so much injured from the fall she took through the table during finn’s last match and was cleared to compete, but she still didn’t think finn would pick her.

why is he asking me to do this? she thought to herself. didn’t he just believe that i wasn’t loyal? that i couldn’t do this?

finn stepped closer to y/n and sat across from her spot on the couch. “love, i know you’re probably still pissed at me, and that’s understandable.” he began softly, looking at her with the most sincere look he’d managed in a long time. “but i know you’re going to kick ass and be amazing. you deserve this opportunity.” finn said.

y/n blinked, still in slight shock, her other partners scattered around the room and looking at her and finn with just as much surprise. but she took a minute to think through finn’s words; if she was going to prove herself in the ring, this was her moment to do so. it was no longer about proving herself to finn and her partners, though. this was about proving to herself that she was worthy of this spot in the judgement day.

after thinking through finn’s offer one more time, his own face practically pleading with her to accept, she gave a small nod and stood up from her seat. “let me get dressed.” she said softly, grabbing her bag and heading into the bathroom. once she was gone, though, the rest of the judgement day was about to pounce on finn.

he put his hands up in defense. “i know, i know.” he said; he’d already expected them to be pissed and have questions, but finn was prepared. “but i have a plan. i have to start somewhere.” he said in a hushed voice.

“and what the fuck is this plan, huh?” dominik began, his voice just as hushed. “because the last time you had a plan, she took a fall through a table for us.”

finn ran his hands over his face. “and i feel like shit about it. i’m going to talk to her after the match, but i just...i just need to give her this opportunity.” he bit his lip. “it’s not about me. it’s about her.”

everyone looked back and forth, waiting for someone to be the first to say something. eventually damian was the first to speak up, and he let out a soft sigh before looking at finn. “if anything happens to her-”

“i won’t let that happen.” finn interrupted. and for some reason, for the first time in a long time, the judgement day believed every word he said. this was a different finn than they had known when y/n first joined the judgement day; this was the old finn. the one they all fell in love with and had missed after these last few weeks. they just hoped he stuck to his word.

--- ---

y/n and zelina began the match once everyone was out in the ring, and they did not waste any time in giving the other a piece of their minds. they both had a lot of fight in them, and y/n was nowhere near giving up. but being in matches like this was exhausting, and it showed on her face when she was getting tired. but every time it showed, finn nodded his head at y/n and cheered her on. “you got it, love. you can do it.” he’d say, holding his hand out in case she was ready to make the tag. for once he was letting y/n take things at her own pace - a much different attitude than what they’d all seen as of late.

after a couple more turns tagging in and out, the match was reaching its climax and the crowd was reacting to everything they did. finn and santos had ended up outside of the ring, while zelina and y/n were tangled up on the ringpost. the two began climbing up the ropes until they were on the top turnbuckle, and it was clear y/n was looking for a move that would take both of them back to the mat so she could end the match. zelina, however, had other plans.

she began shoving and pushing y/n in hopes of getting her away, but one of those harsh shoves was enough for y/n to lose her footing on the turnbuckle. disaster had struck, her body falling to the ground below her and y/n yelped as she braced for impact.

to her surprise, though...y/n never felt the ache in her body after hitting the outside of the ring.

instead, she felt herself get caught into a pair of muscular arms that held her close to her body. y/n opened her eyes to see the caring gaze of her favorite irishman - a man who promised himself he’d never let her fall and get hurt as long as he could control it. finn smiled down at her as the crowd cheered around them. “i’ve got you, doll. i’m here.” he said softly to her which made y/n smile up at him.

the confidence only continued to soar through her body as finn gave her one more smile before sliding her back in the ring. y/n was able to bring zelina back down to the ring to deliver a finisher and submission move, and it was only a matter of time before zelina was crying out to end the match and tapping the mat to hopefully get some kind of relief.

finn rejoiced in the ring with y/n; his arms wrapped around her body in a tight hug, smiles on both of their faces at the realization that they were finally able to work together to accomplish something. but finn knew his plan was only beginning and that he still had some other tasks to complete.

--- ---

the winners were met in their dressing room with cheers and hugs from their other three partners. they had all watched from backstage as well, just as shocked as y/n and finn were that they were able to get through the match without choking one another.

while rhea and dominik wrapped their arms around finn, y/n jumped into the safe arms of the punisher and hugged him tight. “good girl, mi amor.” he whispered in her ear, giving the skin below it a gentle kiss as dominik couldn’t stop placing kisses all over finn’s face.

“so proud of the both of you!” the youngest member told his partners, making rhea laugh and give finn her own kiss. “just glad you two behaved.” she whispered, giving finn one more look.

finn recognized the look on rhea’s face, and he nodded in response. he knew he needed to continue this conversation with y/n, so he gently kicked out the other three to get ready for their own segment and reached for y/n’s hand. “come sit with me, my love.” he told y/n softly.

she obliged, sitting next to finn on the couh and gently holding his hand. their fingers danced with one another as she practically avoided all eye contact with him. it hurt him to see just how much she wanted to avoid looking at him, but he knew he needed to be persistent with her. his lanky fingers gently brushed against her chin, the same spot that once had a dark bruise from the kick she received due to his foolishness, and he tucked some hair behind her ear. “i meant every word i said out there, you know?” finn asked y/n softly.

y/n blushed against the feeling of his fingers. the way he spoke to her...no one, not even brooks, had managed to be this gentle and compassionate with her. it was as if finn worried she would break if he was even the slightest bit harsh. y/n had almost convinced herself she didn’t deserve it, but she quickly shifted her focus away from those thoughts. she was silent in response to his question; almost like...like she didn’t have the words for him. but finn wasn’t going to let this slide away from him.

“i promise i meant it.” he said quietly. “just like i mean i’m sorry for everything that’s happened.” finn watched her face the entire time he spoke, waiting for some kind of reaction. but she kept herself still and patiently anticipated his next words. “i never wanted you to get hurt, or to doubt yourself, or to think i never cared about you. you’re our girl, my love. and i just...i didn’t realize that what i thought was tough love actually was causing more harm.”

she bit her lip at finn’s words, watching him as she could’ve sworn finn teared up as he spoke. the realization had hit him that he messed up, and now y/n was watching finn work through that and do his best to make up for what he’d done.

finn squeezed her hand again. “i know you might still be upset with me, and that’s okay.” he said softly. “but please, baby. i’ll...i’ll do anything, love.” he brushed her hair from y/n’s face again, and her next move was shocking but the move exhilarating thing he’d felt in a long time.

y/n leaned in and kissed finn, the most gentle yet passionate kiss she could have managed in that moment, and let it linger for a couple of minutes. when she pulled back, their noses brushed against one another and she was finally able to give finn a small smile. “you’ll do anything?” y/n whispered.

she could see the glint in finn’s eyes; something flickered at her words, and he didn’t think twice before pulling her closer and nodding. “anything.” he confirmed. her next sentence sent chills down finn’s spine, and he could’ve sworn he blacked out from pure ecstasy at y/n’s words alone.

“then show me how much you love me.”

finn didn’t need to be told twice; his arms wrapped around y/n’s body and he easily flipped the two of them over so he could straddle her on the couch. “don’t have to ask me twice.” he whispered against her lips as his own mouth moved synchronously with hers. their hands wandered over each other’s body, both still slightly sweater and in ring gear, and they both giggled like fools as this was the first time in days either one of them had felt one another.

y/n grabbed the waistband of finn’s pants and slowly pulled them down his legs. “we have to be quick,” she said breathlessly between kisses. “they’re going to be back eventually.”

finn chuckled and moved his head down to kiss her neck. “nothin’ they haven’t seen before, peach.” he said. his own hands seamlessly pulled y/n’s shorts and tights off of her legs. their bare hips slowly started to move against one another’s effortlessly, not missing a beat even though they’d been physically been apart for days. y/n’s hand held the back of finn’s head as a small moan left her lips - he just always knew what spots to hit with her - and her manicured fingers tangled in his short hair.

the cheeky bastard that finn was took one look at y/n’s shirt - his own merch that she cut into a crop top - and smirked to himself as he made no effort to remove it. “i’d love nothing more than to make you moan my name while you wear my clothes.” he mumbled.

y/n couldn’t even begin to explain the surge of electricity that ran through her body at finn’s words. she wrapped her legs around his waist in an effort to keep him right there where he was (and where she felt he belonged). “god, i love you but i need you so badly.” she whimpered, making finn laugh as he continued to gently grind against her entrance.

finn could feel how excited she was; not only could he sense the goosebumps all over her body and the chemistry between the two of them, but the arousal between her legs grew the longer they moved and kissed. he himself was growing slightly impatient, but finn also wanted to behave and make sure y/n was being taken care of the way she deserved.

that self control only lasted a few more minutes though, because as her desperate whines and moans grew louder finn couldn’t help but give y/n what she’d been relentlessly begging for in his ear. with his lips pressed to hers in a sweet kiss, finn slowly pushed himself in y/n’s entrance and gave her a few moments to adjust. “that’s my girl...” he whispered as she moaned, pulling his body closer in an effort to have finn as connected to her body as possible.

the two of them moaned against one another’s lips and skin once finn began to move his hips. y/n’s manicured nails lightly scratched down his back - just as she’d done to all of their partners - and finn’s lips once again left another mark at the juncture of her shoulder and neck. “baby...fuck, finn. i need you.” she moaned quietly.

finn sped up his thrusts at those words alone. “i’m here, my love. i’ve got you.” he whispered right back as he got her closer and closer to her release. before either of them had even processed it, y/n reached her climax and tightened her grip on finn’s body in response. she went rigid, her thighs trembling and a loud moan leaving her lips. “fuck! oh, fuck! finn!” she begged.

the irishman shushed her with a kiss, helping her ride it out and finish until she was starting to catch her breath. finn slowly pulled out to her protest, but stayed kneeled between her legs as he continued to stroke his cock. “stay right there for me, love.” he said, a gentle hand on y/n’s thigh as he finished on her thighs. if finn was anything, he was smart about this type of stuff.

y/n smiled as she watched him, wasting no time in pulling him back down into another kiss. the two caught their breath as they continued to exchange gentle kisses, occasionally giggling and wiping some sweat from their foreheads. but the unmistakable sound of the door to the dressing room opening alerted both of them, and their other three partners entered the room with wide eyes.

“oh my god-” dominik mumbled, putting a hand over his eyes as if not to violate what had already been seen. rhea rolled her eyes at him and closed the door so they could all get inside without exposing anymore of finn and y/n’s indecency.

“i take it you two finally made up?” the australian mumbled, making y/n giggle and hide in finn’s shoulder.

finn smirked as well and kissed y/n’s forehead. “i guess you could say that.” for once, everything between the fivesome was okay. there was no more weird energy, no more worries over anyone being upset...things were okay. but how long would they stay that way?

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