#there are some things i could i could change so she looks a little closer to the girl in my head but like

[pitchsidestories]

the grinch II Laura Freigang x Reader

masterlist | word count: 1661

summary: Laura's in a festive mood already, reader isn’t, but maybe a visit at the Christmas market in Frankfurt can change that.

author's note: dear readers, we hope you'll like the black cat x golden retriever dynamic in this oneshot.💕

Your Friday nights were sacred to you.

While other people went out, you waited all week to stay inside and cozy up on your couch. After long hours at work, it was the perfect way to relax.

You let yourself fall onto the sofa, pulling your feet in under yourself and grabbing the remote.

It was just you, the movie you were about to pick out and… your girlfriend hanging up Christmas lights right above the TV.

You silently glared at her back but she continued adjusting the decorations while singing to herself: “All I want for Christmas is youuuuu, baby!”

She turned towards you, pretending to hold microphone in one hand and pointing at you with the other.

You blinked at her, forcing yourself to not grab the nearest pillow and throw it at her: “What is wrong with you? It’s way too early for that!”

It was still November and you were pretty grateful for that. You weren’t the biggest fan of Christmas. In contrast to your girlfriend who shook her head with a patient smile: “Nope. The first Christmas markets are open in Frankfurt and you and me will go there tonight with my team.“

The urge to smack a pillow in her face grew with every word but you stayed strong.

“No.“, you said simply but determined.

Laura sat next to you on the sofa, blinking at you with innocent eyes: “Come on, Liebling. You work so hard, you deserve to enjoy yourself from time to time too.“

“I wanted to enjoy myself by staying in and watching Netflix.“, you groaned.

“Please join us.“ She gave you her best puppy eyes and pulled her lips into a little pout.

It was cute but you really didn’t want to go.

You sighed: “Why? I don’t even like Christmas.“

“Liebling, the girls would love to see you again. And I love to brag about my amazing, talented girl.“, Laura grinned, coming closer and closer until her nose touched your neck. She carefully placed a kiss to your jaw.

You rolled your eyes and pushed her off: “You can’t sweet-talk me into going.“

Finally, she gave in and pushed herself off the sofa: “Okay, fine. I’ll get ready then.“

“Wait… you’re going alone?”, you asked.

“I won’t force you to come with me.“, Laura shrugged before heading to the bedroom.

You knew exactly what that meant. You could either let her go alone or you had to join her. So essentially she did force you.

“God, I hate you.“, you groaned as you finally turned off the TV and got up.

“No, you love me.“, Laura replied through the closed door.

“You’re lucky I do.“, you grumbled while you slipped into your warmest clothes.

When Laura returned in her puffer jacket and saw you pull on your boots, she asked excitedly: “Does that mean you’ll join us?”

“Do I have a choice?”, you sighed.

“I mean you do but…“, the rest of her reply was muted by the thick scarf she wrapped around herself in that moment.

You shrugged into your winter coat and reluctantly ushered her out of your shared apartment: “Don’t. Just go already, I don’t have all night.“

The scent of roasted almonds, cinnamon and gingerbread was the first thing you both noticed once you entered the Christmas market. The old townhouses including the town hall were looking like pieces of a winter children’s book and yet the Frankfurt skyline was shining in the background.

The mix of old and new was always there and something your girlfriend found so exciting she tried to capture it with her camera. For a second you tried to see the scenery through her blue eyes which sparkled like the fairy lights surrounding her.

With a big smile on her face, she waved at her teammates. “Hi girls!”

“Hey, you two.”, Sara grinned.

“You already got mulled wine without us?!”, Laura exclaimed.

“Don’t worry, we got some for you two.”, Barbara reassured the striker.

“Thanks, Baba.”, you replied, thankful for the hot drink warming your cold hands.

“You’re welcome.”, the Austrian replied.

“The Misses Grinch here didn’t want to leave the house at first, can you believe that?”, your girlfriend asked teasingly.

“And miss out on the Christmas market?”, Sophia shook her head in disbelief.

Grumpily you thought to yourself, wait until you all have 9 to 5 jobs.

“Yes, she said it’s too early to be in the mood for Christmas.”, Laura went on smirking.

“It’s.”, you protested.

“No, it’s never too early for that.”, Sara disagreed lifting her dog Peanut who was wearing a sweater with Christmas trees printed on it.

“Of course it’s.”, you grumbled. It was November, no one in the office you worked was in the festive mood because there was still too much work at the end of the year to do.

“Lau, you were right, your girlfriend is the grinch.”, Nicole observed amusedly.

“I told you.”, Laura answered.

“More Glühwein?”, Barbara offered.

“Please.”, you muttered, glad for the alcohol as well as for the warm company which you wouldn’t admit it to your girlfriend. The Austrian and you were the one getting the drinks for everyone, so you had missed a bit of the conversation. You couldn’t believe your ears what you heard next.

“Oh, my girl invests into women’s sport now by the way.”, Laura told her teammates in a proud tone.

“That’s great!”, Sara commented enthusiastically.

All the eyes of the football players were now on you, their attention made you blush even harder.

“Yeah, I mean it’s something different to my usual investments.”, you responded nervously.

“You’re making the right decision. Women’s sport is booming everywhere.”, Barbara promised.

“I still need her help for my side projects though.”, Laura winked at you before leaning into you. Even though they took a lot of her and your time, first the photo book and then her own clothing line. She was the creative head, and you were the one turning her ideas into actual products which could be sold and profitable.

“Yes, I’ll be there for that. But can we maybe stop talking about work?”, you requested.

“Of course. I’m just so proud of you.”, your girlfriend beamed at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Oh.”

“Cuties.”, Elisa hummed.

Was this the true spirit of Christmas or did the mulled wine finally kicked in?

Suddenly acutely aware of your girlfriends’ teammates watching, you cleared your throat and announced: “I’ll come to your game on Sunday by the way.“

“You will?”, Laura grinned excitedly.

“Yes, babe.“, you confirmed with a single nod.

“That’s amazing!”

Her lips were suddenly on yours, kissing longingly. You could taste sting of alcohol from the mulled wine on her breath.

You pulled away with heated cheeks: “I promised you that I would come to your next game.“

“What about another hat-trick, Laura? To celebrate her making an appearance.“, Sara joked, elbowing her teammate in the side.

“We’ll see. I will try my best.“, Laura winked.

You laughed lightly: “No pressure.“

“I’ll score at least one for you.“, she promised happily.

You stifled a laugh. Apparently the mulled wine had already gotten to her. “That’s very sweet of you.“

“While we’re at sweet… Do you want some chocolate covered strawberries?“, Laura smoothly changed the topic.

Only the thought of them, almost made you drool. You might not like Christmas markets but you had a weakness for the variety of chocolate fruits they sell there.

“I do. You know I love them.“

Laura smiled mischievously: “I do know what.“

“We should get some and then we need to go home before you are fully drunk.“, you joked, pointing at the mug she was holding.

Laura looked at you with raised eyebrows: “I’m not drunk, you’re drunk.“

“Uhu sure, love.“, you rolled your eyes, even though you couldn’t deny that you felt the alcohol.

“Just admit that you both had too much and go!”, Sara interrupted jokingly.

“Incredibly rude, Sara!”, Laura protested but her teammate just retorted with a casual shrug.

“It’s the truth.“

“Let’s just get the strawberries and leave, Lau. Bye, girls.“ You took Lauras hand and dragged her along as you waved goodbye to the rest of her team.

“Bye, see you on Sunday!”, Barbara called after you.

With your chocolate strawberries and some almonds for Laura, you went back home. With a sigh of relief, you kicked off your shoes and hung up your jacket.

“And? Wasn’t that bad after all, right Liebling?”

“It was… okay.“, you shrugged.

“Only okay?!”, Laura echoed, pretending to be offended.

You let yourself fall onto your spot on the sofa that you only reluctantly left earlier that evening.

“Well, it wasn’t as bad without you here.“, you admitted slowly.

A satisfied smile appeared on your girlfriends face: “I take that as a compliment.“

“You can.“

Sitting down next to you, she quickly kissed your cheek: “Thanks for coming with me. I had a lot of fun.“

“I could tell. You loved the Christmas market.“, you grinned back at her.

“Yes but don’t worry, I’ll always love you more.“, she winked.

You silently shook your head about her until Laura suddenly bursted into another Christmas song: “I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need…“

Groaning, you let your head fall back: “Lau, I love you and I enjoyed the Christmas market tonight but it’s still way too early!”

Laura blinked at you innocently: “Says who?”

“Me!”

“Then stop me from singing.“, she teased.

“Come here.“ Without hesitation, you pulled her in for a passionate kiss that was enough to take Lauras breath away.

Maybe you didn’t like Christmas as much as Laura, but you loved the way her eyes lit up at the sight of the Christmas lights and how her nose and cheeks turned pink from the cold. Maybe she was worth visiting overcrowded Christmas markets and listening to stupid Christmas songs in November.

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

[shady-tavern]

Preview for "A Heart of Death and Hope" the December Short Story

(This story contains mentions of suicidal thoughts and a request for death, please be sure to take care of yourselves)

*.*.*

Once upon a time, a girl was born to a loving if quiet mother and a strict, rigid father. When she reached five years of age, the Ceremony of Hearts was held, her parents waiting until one of the traveling priests came to their little town to find out just what heart their child had been born with.

Her mother took her to the priest, for it was said that the mother formed a child's heart since they carried them beneath their own for so long. Her mother was nervous, the girl could tell, for if a child was born with a bad heart, the mother always got blamed for it.

The ceremony was held in private and was, all in all, nothing exciting. The priest pricked her fingertip for a drop of blood, the little girl bravely keeping from flinching away and then he held her finger over a slip of paper, squeezing a bit to make the blood drop onto it, before carefully dropping a spot of ink onto the paper as well. 

The two colors ran together, soaking into the paper and the priest turned away before he could see the end result.

Another superstition was that if anyone but the mother and child saw the outcome of the ceremony they were going to change it, that a stranger's eyes could influence or perhaps warp the truth.

The little girl knew what the paper strips of her parents looked like, her father's narrow and red and edged in only a little black, while her mother's was all blood. The more the red prevailed, the purer the heart. The more the black prevailed, the more a heart was tainted.

Her mother stared at the strip of paper as black spread and only a faint outline of red remained, her face suddenly drawn tight and full of silent fear. The priest turned around and stared at the slip, going silent and still as well.

"A heart of death," he murmured quietly as he studied the way the liquid had soaked into the paper, the forms and lines and shapes it had created. "I have only ever seen such a thing once before."

"Please don't tell anyone," her mother whispered, grabbing the paper and closing her fist tightly around it, as though to hide it away. "She's only so little."

The priest glanced between them, clearly torn, before he pulled out another slip, dropping only a tiny bit of ink onto it before he reached for the girl's bleeding finger once more and pressed more drops onto it, making sure the red prevailed even as black tried to eat into it again.

"That is all I can do," he said and her mother traded the slip she held for the new one with a big shivering exhale of relief. The priest threw the original piece of paper into the small fireplace off to the side. "Now go and speak of this no more. But woman, remember, you may lie but the child's heart will not change because of it."

The girl felt her mother's hand tighten around hers before she was gently but insistently pulled out of the room the priest had been given by the mayor. Outside other parents waited with their children and they perked up with eager curiosity.

"What did she get, Madleine?" one of the women asked. The girl remembered her, she always came around on washing day so they could do those chores together. Her son was a freckled, quiet boy who liked to help bugs out of the washing basins and who protected spiders from other, rougher children.

"A heart of hope," her mother answered, a smile on her face as she held out the strip. "Look at all that red fighting back the black!"

The other women made appreciative noises, though some glanced at the girl with slightly wrinkled noses, tugging their children closer, a shine of jealousy in their eyes.

"Next," the priest called out and the girl's mother took that chance to usher her away, as another mother eagerly stepped forward.

"Don't tell your father," the girl's mother whispered, quiet but with a fierceness the girl hadn't seen from her before. "Your heart is one of hope, understand?"

"I don't want to kill anyone," the girl whispered back, worried and unsure. "I don't want to hurt anyone either. Maybe the priest was wrong?"

Her mother tugged her into an alley before she dropped down to one knee, grasping her shoulders and looking at her with quiet intensity.

"Death is not a terrible, awful thing and many things can die, even things not made of flesh and blood. If you do have a heart of death, then choose what you end." She pressed a kiss to the girl's forehead and whispered, "Never fear yourself, my dear girl, even the darkest heart can bring good into this world if they know where to direct their darkness."

The little girl fell quiet, thoughtful, and her mother smiled at her, pressing another kiss to her forehead before she rose to her feet and offered her hand. The girl took it and they headed back home, where her father was already waiting impatiently.

He seemed satisfied enough with the results of the ceremony, nodding once before he handed the slip back to her mother to be framed and put above the mantle, between the slips of her parents.

The girl's mother cast her a look when his back turned and the girl nodded. She knew when to keep a secret.

They went about the rest of the day as usual and by the time the little girl laid down in her bed, she had thought about her heart a lot. A heart of death. Her mother had said that it wasn't a bad thing and she decided that it wouldn't be.

If she couldn't have a good heart, the least she could do was bring death to bad things.

*.*.*

The girl never mentioned the true nature of her heart to anyone and instead let everyone believe that she had a heart of hope. As she grew older, she found herself paying attention to where the light fell short. 

She befriended the boy no one wanted to talk to and secretly dropped off potatoes and a little basket of picked berries at the grim neighbor's house once a week, no one speaking to the woman who lived there and who had faced terrible hardship in her time.

And bit by bit, the girl noticed other things as she grew older. How some people seemed to have darkness clinging to them like an oil film, flickering between the folds of their clothing like tiny, licking flames.

Her father was among them, though his darkness was subtle enough that she had almost overlooked it. The girl had always kept a bit of a distance to her father and he to her. So long as she obeyed him, he was only strict, not cruel.

When he died a year later, taken by a sickness, she grieved and yet, a small part of her was relieved as well. Her mother seemed to come alive in the wake of his passing. Singing and dancing suddenly filled the house, his blood-slip vanishing from its spot on the wall and it was as though there was more light in their home again.

The girl stayed away from the other people that carried more of that darkness, an instinctive feeling in her gut warning her that there was nothing good to be found near them.

Right up until, when she was fourteen years old, there was a person with the darkest shadows yet, who went from house to house, selling miracle tonics. It had been a bad year for the entire region, with a far too wet spring and summer, the rivers swelling large and there had been a couple of houses built near the water that had gotten swept away.

The girl hoped the stranger wouldn't come to their house as well, but one evening, while her mother sat by the table, repairing and mending various things, a knock sounded from the door.

The girl knew who it was and she had seen everyone fall to the stranger's charms, even the grim old woman and the cautious, nervous young candlemaker who had moved into their town after marrying the miller's son.

"I got it," the girl called out, her mother settling back down with a nod, returning her attention to her work.

Swallowing nervously, the girl headed for the door and pulled it open. It was indeed the stranger, his smile friendly and disarming, but no matter how nice he looked, it couldn't hide the oil-slick darkness that seemed to coalesce along the edges of his clothes and the tips of his hair, almost looking like it was dripping down.

The stranger introduced himself as a wandering alchemist and doctor's apprentice. He said that he was selling cures and remedies for all kinds of ailments, from an unwanted wart and persistent cough to terrible fevers. 

"Why don't you take this little sample?" he said when he realized that the girl had no intentions of buying anything from him. "Give it to your parents, just so they'll keep staying healthy. They ought to take it right away even! Let them know that I'll only stay in town another day before I move on in case they do desire to buy my tonics."

He held out a corked little vial and while the liquid inside looked downright honey-gold, the girl saw the same oil-slick darkness on the outside of the vial, as though it was oozing from the man's sleeve and down his wrist and fingers to coat the glass.

"It's alright, take it," he said, insistently holding the vial out further and the girl hesitantly reached out, silently resolving to throw the vial out where her mother couldn't see.

The moment her hand brushed the stranger's, it was as though the darkness dripped off of him, sliding away to leave regular shadows and color behind and he jerked back with a sharp gasp, dropping the vial to let it shatter on the doorstep.

"Are you alright?" the girl asked, startled, but he didn't seem to hear her. If anything, he stared off into the distance, a horrified expression overtaking his face.

"What am I doing," he whispered and took a downright stumbling step back, pressing his hand to his mouth, his gaze darting about. He almost dropped the doctor's bag he was carrying that held the tonics. "What just happened..."

He breathed out the last few words as he turned around and left as though in a daze, his free hand raising to his temples as if he was suffering a sudden headache.

The girl stared after him, startled and confused, until she heard her mother call out to close the door, that it was getting drafty.

"Who was it?" the girl's mother asked when she returned and the girl shook her head.

"No one, just a prank," she answered. "Probably the butcher's son, he's of that age now."

"I'll speak with Richard when I visit his shop the next time," her mother said. "I'll ask him to teach his son better ways to express his mischief."

The girl nodded and sat down to help her mother, though her mind kept wandering and she stared down at her hands. Had...she done that?

*.*.*

This story will be published on the first of December on my patreon and ko-fi! Thank you all so very much for your support, your likes and comments and reblogs and tags.

If you want to read other stories I've written, feel free to go check out the Masterpost!

[lila-lou]

✨High School Sweetheart - Pt 4✨

Summary: You come face-to-face with a ghost from your past—Dean Winchester. Five years after he vanished from your life without a word, and now he´s here. But neither you nor he are teenagers anymore.

-Listen to "Chance with you"-

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language, Fluff, John being a dick

Word Count: 6498

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

Dean’s eyes sparkled with that familiar mischievous glint, but there was a gentleness beneath it that you hadn’t seen before, a warmth that seemed to speak of all the unspoken things between you. He leaned in a little closer, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked down at you.

“Still making me work for it, huh?”, he teased, his tone playful but filled with an affection that felt deeply personal. “I swear, you haven’t changed a bit”.

He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary, the tender gesture sending a wave of warmth through you. “But maybe that’s just part of your charm”, he murmured, his voice dropping even lower, so soft it felt like it was meant only for you. “You always knew how to keep me on my damn toes”.

His gaze never wavered, locked on yours with an intensity that seemed to cut through the noise of the world around you. There was a vulnerability there, a hint of something deeper that he was offering without saying a word. The teasing smirk softened, his eyes reflecting the weight of everything he was trying to convey, all the words he hadn’t said back then and the feelings that had lingered, just waiting for this moment.

“Think you might give me another chance to make a few new memories?”, he asked softly, the question hanging in the air, equal parts hopeful and sincere.

You felt a spark of excitement mingling with a sudden wave of nerves, the mixture leaving you a bit breathless. Dean’s presence, his soft teasing, his gaze that seemed to reach right through you—it was overwhelming in the best way, but the memory of yesterday lingered. You took a shaky breath, letting your fingers brush against his hand before you tilted your head up to meet his gaze, a little smile tugging at your lips despite your nerves.

“What about that whole goodbye yesterday?”, you asked, raising an eyebrow, hoping the question might mask just how giddy you felt inside. “I thought you were out of here, off to some other town by now”.

Before Dean could answer, Sam, who was still deeply engrossed in his book, piped up with a deadpan comment, not even bothering to lift his eyes from the page. “Oh, we’re sticking around for a few more days”, he mumbled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Dean’s a little too… distracted to focus on the case right now”.

Dean shot Sam a glare, though he couldn’t hide the faint blush that crept up his neck. “Thanks, Sammy. Real subtle”.

Sam still didn’t even look up, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he flipped another page. “Hey, someone’s gotta point out the obvious”, he said, shrugging casually. “Otherwise, we’ll be here forever while you pretend it’s all about ‘research’”.

Dean groaned, rolling his eyes. “Real funny, Sam. I’m just trying to… handle things”, he said. But Sam wasn’t done.

“Yeah, ‘handle things’. That what we’re calling it now?”, Sam finally looked up, his grin unrepentant. “Pretty sure this case could’ve been wrapped up yesterday if someone hadn’t been, you know..”.

Dean looked ready to retort, but you cut in, suppressing a laugh. “Well, I’m glad he’s sticking around for the ‘case’”, you teased, raising an eyebrow at Dean. “Though, maybe Sam’s right. Wouldn’t want you to get too… distracted”.

Sam’s laughter bubbled up as he leaned back in the armchair, clearly enjoying every moment of Dean’s embarrassment. “See, she gets it”, he said, winking at you. “Guess I’ll just take the lead on the case. Let you two ‘handle things’ in the meantime”.

Dean gave an exasperated sigh, but there was no hiding the smile that played on his lips as he shot his brother a look. “Fine. You get point on the case”, he grumbled, “but I swear, one more comment out of you and you’re sleeping in the car”.

“Worth it”, Sam replied, unfazed, his grin wide.

Then, Sam stood up, holding up a book he’d clearly deemed useful, and looked at you with a casual, “How much?”. But before he could reach for his wallet, you shook your head gently, a small smile on your lips as you looked between the two brothers.

“It’s on the house”, you murmured, “if your brother agrees to get those milkshakes with me”.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, surprised but clearly pleased, his smirk quickly replacing his stunned expression. “Well, that sounds like a deal to me”, he replied, shooting Sam a triumphant look. “Milkshakes it is”.

Sam rolled his eyes with a good-natured sigh, tossing Dean a look that said, I knew this was coming. “I’ll wait in the car”, he said, clearly amused by the whole situation. He held the book up in a half-hearted salute, then headed toward the door, the bell above jingling as he stepped outside.

Dean watched his brother leave, rolling his eyes but smiling to himself. As the door closed, he turned back to you, the teasing smirk gone, replaced by something softer, more genuine.

“So”, he said, his voice warm and almost hesitant, “guess we’re on for those milkshakes?”.

You felt your heart skip a beat, but you nodded, feeling a quiet excitement settle over you. “Guess so”, you replied, your smile mirroring his.

Dean shifted slightly, hands finding their way into his pockets, his gaze never wavering from yours as he spoke. “Well… when do you close up here?”, he asked, his tone casual but his eyes carrying that unmistakable spark of anticipation. “Figure I can come back and pick you up”.

You glanced at the clock on the wall, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you looked back at him. “I’ll be done around six”, you replied, feeling a little thrill run through you at the thought of him coming back, of sharing a night out with him like old times.

Dean nodded, that familiar grin breaking through. “Alright, I’ll be here”, he said, his voice warm with certainty. He took a small step back, as if giving you space but still keeping close enough to make it clear he wasn’t in a hurry to leave. “Guess I’ll see you at six, then”.

“Looking forward to it”, you replied, your voice softer than you intended, but you couldn’t help it. The easy charm in his smile, the way he looked at you—it all made it impossible to hide your excitement.

He hesitated for a moment, then gave you a final, lingering look before heading toward the door. “See you soon”, he said, the words carrying a promise. With one last grin, he stepped out, leaving the door to chime softly in his wake.

Back in the car, Sam was already nose-deep in the book he’d picked up from your shop, eyes scanning the pages as he began to mutter. “Alright, I think I might have a lead here. Looks like there’s something about local lore—could be tied to a spirit or curse”. He continued to flip through the pages, his voice growing more animated as he pieced together the clues. But a few moments later, he glanced up, quickly realizing that Dean’s focus was nowhere near the case.

Dean was leaning back in the driver’s seat, staring out the windshield with a faint smile on his face, his gaze distant and his expression soft. Sam raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes as he closed the book slightly to get his brother’s attention.

“Earth to Dean”, Sam said, nudging his shoulder. “I’m over here talking about the case, and you’re clearly somewhere else”.

Dean blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, but the smirk on his face didn’t fade. “Huh? Oh, yeah, the case. Ghosts and… stuff”. He shrugged, clearly trying to play it off, though he wasn’t fooling Sam in the slightest.

Sam rolled his eyes, leaning back with an exasperated sigh. “You’re seriously gone, aren’t you?”, he teased, crossing his arms as he watched Dean with a knowing grin. “Don’t think I’ve seen you this distracted since—well, probably since the last time you saw her”.

Dean tried to hide his grin, but the blush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “Can you blame me?”, he muttered, glancing out the window as if trying to avoid Sam’s teasing look. “I mean… she’s different. Always was”.

Sam’s expression softened slightly, his teasing tone fading as he nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I know”, he said quietly, giving Dean a small, supportive smile. “Guess it’s about time you got a second chance, huh? Without… dad being a dick about it”.

Dean looked toward Sam, his expression shifting as a flicker of something unspoken passed between them. He knew Sam was right—this was a second chance, a rare one in their lives. The memory surfaced then, unbidden, of the last time he’d felt this strongly, back when he’d snuck into the motel after that first night with you, only to find his father waiting, disapproval practically radiating off him.

-Flashback-

The motel was silent as Dean carefully turned the doorknob, hoping to sneak back in unnoticed. He was exhausted, still floating in the quiet afterglow of the night he’d spent with you, and all he wanted was a few hours of sleep before facing another day of the usual grind. But as he stepped inside, he froze. John was sitting at the small table by the window, a cup of coffee in hand, his eyes dark and cold as he stared at his son.

Dean swallowed, knowing immediately that he wasn’t getting off easy. He barely managed to shut the door before John spoke, his voice low and laced with that familiar edge of disappointment.

"Where the hell have you been, Dean?", John’s tone wasn’t just accusatory—it was dismissive, as if he already knew the answer and couldn’t bring himself to care about anything other than his own frustration. "Out wasting time, doing God-knows-what? Thought you were better than some lovesick idiot chasing after a girl".

Dean clenched his jaw, every muscle in his body tense. "Just needed some air", he muttered, trying to downplay it, hoping that would be enough. But John wasn’t having it.

"Air, huh?", John scoffed, standing up and moving closer, his presence filling the small room. "You're supposed to be focused, Dean. Not out there making a fool of yourself over some girl". The way he spat out the word "girl" made it clear how little he thought of you—or anyone outside their world.

Dean felt his fists clench, a sharp pang of anger shooting through him. "I know my priorities, Dad", he replied, his voice controlled but barely hiding the frustration he felt.

"Doesn’t look like it", John shot back, his voice growing louder. "You’ve got responsibilities. You think any girl out there is gonna understand that? Gonna put up with our life?". He shook his head, a harsh laugh escaping him. "No, Dean, you’re fooling yourself. And you’re wasting your damn time. Love is for idiots who can afford it".

The noise stirred Sam, who was asleep in the bed. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, clearly disoriented. "What’s going on?".

"Nothing", John snapped, shooting a glare at Sam. "Just your brother learning the hard way that our family doesn’t get to have normal lives. We don’t get to waste time on pointless things". He turned his gaze back to Dean, his expression hard and unyielding. "You’re gonna end up just like me, Dean. Chained to this life because it’s all you’ll ever have".

The words hit Dean like a punch to the gut, and for a second, he felt every bit the "lovesick kid" his father accused him of being. He wanted to argue, to push back, to tell John he was wrong. But the weight of his father’s expectations, of the life they’d been handed, pressed down on him, leaving him feeling trapped and small.

As John finally walked away, heading to the bathroom without another word, Sam looked at Dean, his eyes wide with sympathy and quiet understanding.

“Dean…”, Sam began, his voice tentative, but Dean shook his head, silencing his brother. He didn’t want Sam’s sympathy. He didn’t want to admit that John’s words had gotten to him, that they’d dug deep into his insecurities.

“Go back to sleep, Sammy”, Dean mumbled, his voice thick, trying to bury everything he felt.

-End of the Flashback-

Dean let out a quiet sigh, his gaze distant as he thought about that night, about how he’d felt torn between his father’s expectations and his own desire for something real, something normal. Sitting here now, next to Sam, he realized just how different things could be now, with John gone and the two of them forging their own path.

“Guess I don’t have to worry about Dad breathing down my neck this time”, Dean said softly, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, well, Dad’s not here to tell you what you can’t do”, Sam replied quietly, his tone both gentle and encouraging. “So maybe… it’s time to focus on what you actually want”.

Dean let Sam’s words sink in. For years, every choice he’d made, every relationship he’d considered, had always been shaped by his father’s voice in the back of his mind. But now? There was no rulebook.

“Maybe”, Dean murmured, looking out the window as if he could already see a new path forming before him. He gave a wry smile, finally meeting Sam’s gaze. “Didn’t think you’d be my life coach, Sammy, but… thanks”.

Sam shrugged, that familiar teasing smirk returning. “Don’t mention it. Just try not to screw this up, alright?”, he joked, though there was real warmth behind the words.

Dean laughed, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement settle in his chest. He knew what he wanted—to be with you, at least for now, without worrying about where it might lead or how it might end. It was a freedom he hadn’t felt in a long time, and it filled him with a renewed sense of purpose.

A few hours later, Dean found himself in tiny bathroom of the motel, carefully trimming his beard with a level of precision he usually reserved for his Impala’s engine. The air was thick with his familiar cologne, the rich, woodsy scent mixing with the stale air of the cramped bathroom. He traced his jawline with his fingertips, checking the results in the mirror.

Just then, Sam appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, a wide, amused grin spreading across his face.

Dean caught sight of Sam’s reflection in the mirror and groaned, already anticipating the ribbing he was about to get. He turned off the trimmer, setting it down.

“Well, I’d say you look a little too good for just ‘milkshakes’, don’t you think?”, Sam teased, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. His gaze dropped pointedly to Dean’s chest, which was notably smoother than usual.

Dean shot him a mock glare, though a slight blush crept up his neck. “Give it a rest, Sammy”, he muttered, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over his head a little too quickly, as if that might cover up both the grooming and his embarrassment. “Nothing wrong with looking decent once in a while”.

“Decent? Dean, you shaved your damn chest. Just admit it—you’re trying to impress her”.

Dean rolled his eyes, looking down at the red flannel in his hands with a hint of frustration. He didn’t have anything particularly nice to wear—nothing that screamed “date night” instead of “hunter”. Besides his usual gear, the only remotely formal outfit he owned was the standard FBI getup he kept stashed for cases. The thought crossed his mind that it would’ve been nice to have something a little different, something that didn’t reek of constant travel, hunts, and long hours on the road.

With a resigned sigh, he slipped into the flannel over his black T-shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. It wasn’t flashy, but at least it was him. He caught his reflection in the mirror, his expression softening, and he mumbled almost to himself, “Just don’t want her to think… bad of me, you know?”.

Sam’s smirk softened into a small, understanding smile. “Dean”, he murmured, his voice carrying that brotherly reassurance, “She’s known you since high school. You looked the same back then”.

Dean scoffed lightly, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well, I was hoping I’d improved a little since then”, he replied, though the tension in his voice had softened. “It’s been a while, Sammy”.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “Trust me, she’s not interested in the clothes or the cologne, Dean. She’s interested in you”. He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “And honestly, I think she’s already pretty into you, flannel and all”.

Dean ran a hand over his face, the trace of a blush still visible. “Guess it’s not like I’ve got a whole lot of options anyway”, he muttered, but Sam could hear the hint of nerves in his tone—the rare, genuine excitement that Dean hadn’t shown in a long time.

Sam clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving him a small smile. “You’re gonna be fine. Just… be yourself”.

Dean groaned, rolling his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair, feeling like he was 18 all over again, back in those early days when he’d first met you. “Be myself”, he muttered, shaking his head. “That’s what I’m worried about”.

Sam chuckled, leaning back with a knowing look. “Yeah, but it worked back then, didn’t it? Flannel, leather jacket, that same cocky smile… trust me, Dean, it’s part of the package”.

Dean let out a reluctant laugh, but there was a hint of warmth there, too. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”.

“I try”, Sam replied, grinning. “Now, go on—don’t keep her waiting”.

Dean took a steadying breath, letting himself absorb the moment, that nervous energy thrumming beneath the surface. “Fine, fine”, he muttered, grabbing his jacket and tossing Sam a smirk as he headed toward the door. “Just don’t get too cozy in the motel room without me, alright?”.

Sam’s laugh echoed behind him as Dean stepped outside, each step bringing him closer to that familiar flutter of excitement and nerves he hadn’t felt in ages. He couldn’t believe it—he was actually nervous.

Dean drove through town toward your bookstore, his fingers tapping the wheel rhythmically as he tried to calm his nerves. It wasn’t like him to feel this jittery over a simple outing, but with you, it felt like so much more than just milkshakes.

When he finally pulled up outside your shop, you greeted him with a warm smile as you slid into the passenger seat. He could feel his heart pick up as you buckled in, your presence somehow amplifying his nerves and excitement all at once.

After a few minutes, you glanced at him, biting your lip as you hesitated before asking, “Hey, would you mind making a quick stop at my apartment? I just want to freshen up a bit”.

Dean glanced over, caught off guard by the question. His instinct was to say there was no need—he thought you looked perfect already, but he wasn’t quite sure how to say that without sounding too forward. Instead, he fumbled slightly, scratching the back of his neck. “Oh, uh, sure. I mean, you… you don’t have to or anything. You look great”. His words tumbled out in an awkward rush, and he added, “But yeah, if you want, of course. No problem”.

You smiled, clearly amused by his flustered response, and gave him the directions. The short drive to your apartment was filled with light conversation, but he could sense the undercurrent of anticipation between you both. As he parked outside, he cleared his throat, giving you a little grin as you got out. “I’ll be here”, he said, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Come on, Dean, you can wait upstairs”, you teased. “No more parents around”. You gave him a wink, which had him chuckling awkwardly, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

He cleared his throat, feigning nonchalance as he stepped out of the car to follow you up, but his mind was already wandering back to those sneaking-around days and you both had been a little less lucky…

-Flashback-

It was early morning, the sunlight streaming through the window brighter than either of you had planned for. Dean blinked himself awake, his arm draped over you, only to realize with a jolt that you’d both overslept. “Crap”, he muttered under his breath, easing himself out of bed as quietly as he could manage.

You were still drowsy, wrapped up in a blanket, a sleepy smile on your face as you watched him stumble around, pulling on his jeans and grabbing his boots. You knew the drill by now—Dean’s early exits were routine, sneaking out before your parents could suspect anything. But today, you both miscalculated.

Dean had just tied one boot and was reaching for the other when the door creaked open. He froze, his eyes wide, and you quickly pulled the blanket tighter around you, but it was too late.

Your mom stood there, taking in the scene with an expression that was both shocked and… slightly amused.

Your mom crossed her arms, giving him a pointed look, and then turned her gaze to you, arching a brow. “Good morning. I didn’t realize we had… company”.

You bit your lip, scrambling for something, anything, to say, but the words just wouldn’t come. She raised an eyebrow, glancing down at her watch with a slightly exasperated smile. “Shouldn’t you have been out of the window, say… two hours ago?”.

Your eyes went wide, and you glanced at Dean, whose face mirrored your expression of pure disbelief. Neither of you had expected this; for all the times he’d snuck in and out, you’d never imagined she’d known about it.

“Wait”, Dean stammered, looking between you and your mom, “you… you knew?”.

Your mom gave a half-sigh, half-smile, crossing her arms with a look that was almost amused. “A mother knows when her daughter’s sneaking someone in”. she said matter-of-factly. “I let it slide because… well, I had my suspicions that it was just you two being young and… figuring things out”. She glanced pointedly at Dean’s boots on the floor, then back at you. “But you’d better hope your dad never catches you, because he’s nowhere near as… understanding”.

Your cheeks burned, and you could barely look up at Dean, who was still frozen in place. But, as mortifying as it was, there was a warmth to her tone, an unspoken acknowledgment that somehow, she understood. It softened the edge of the embarrassment, though only slightly.

Dean managed a small smile, one that held a hint of sheepishness. “I, uh… appreciate the heads-up, ma’am”.

She gave him a look that was both stern and kind. “Just be smart”, she replied, giving you both one last glance before she turned to leave, muttering, “And next time… maybe set an alarm”.

The door closed, and the two of you sat in stunned silence for a moment before you both burst into nervous laughter, the shared shock and relief pulling you closer.

-End of the Flashback-

Standing in your apartment now, you looked back at Dean, the memory filling the space between you. Dean chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Guess we weren’t as sneaky as we thought”, he murmured, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart skip.

You chuckled, feeling the warmth rise in your cheeks again. “Yeah, guess we were a little obvious, huh?”, you said, shaking your head as the memory settled between you both. It felt strangely comforting, this shared history that only the two of you truly understood.

Dean’s grin softened, his gaze lingering on you with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. “Well, at least we’re a little older now”, he teased, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the doorframe. “No more sneaking out windows or dodging your mom”.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “Right. Now it’s just dodging Sam’s smart comments”, you joked, but there was an undeniable sweetness beneath your words.

Dean’s gaze drifted around your apartment, taking in the small details that made it feel so distinctly you—the cozy throw draped over the couch, the collection of books stacked in one corner, the faint scent of vanilla lingering in the air. He paused in front of a framed family picture on a nearby shelf, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips as he looked at it.

“How’s your mom?”, he asked softly, his tone gentle, as if the question held a dozen other questions he hadn’t quite figured out how to ask yet.

You stepped beside him, following his gaze to the photo. It was a snapshot from a family picnic years ago, your mom’s arm around you, both of you laughing at some long-forgotten joke. A rush of warmth and nostalgia filled you, mingling with the lingering nervous excitement of having Dean here, in your space, sharing these memories with you.

“She’s good”, you replied, a fond smile slipping onto your face. “Still looking out for me, always asking if I’ve ‘met any nice boys’ lately”. You gave him a playful nudge, rolling your eyes at the memory. “Not sure what she’d say if she knew I was spending time with… well, you again”.

Dean chuckled, but his expression softened, a hint of warmth in his gaze as he looked at you. “Guess I didn’t leave the best impression back then, huh?”. There was a flicker of something like regret in his eyes, but he brushed it off quickly, his gaze settling back on you. “Even though I liked her… a lot”, he murmured, almost to himself, like he was processing the weight of his own memories. His gaze dropped for a moment, a flicker of nostalgia and maybe even a touch of regret lingering there.

You raised an eyebrow, looking up at him with an incredulous smile. “You’re kidding, right?”, you chuckled, nudging him lightly. “Dean, she loved you. At least every two months, she’s sitting with me and Dad at dinner, looking all thoughtful and sighing, ‘I bet you and Dean would’ve given me a grandchild by now’”.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth dropping open slightly before he let out a surprised laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly caught off guard. “Seriously? She said that?”. He grinned, a little self-conscious, but you could see the hint of pride in his expression, like he hadn’t expected to have left that kind of impression on her.

“Every time”, you affirmed, laughing as you thought back to the countless times your mom had brought him up. “It’s like, no matter how much time passes, she just can’t let go of the idea that you and I were supposed to… I don’t know, end up together or something”.

You looked up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You won her over on Halloween”, you murmured, remembering that night vividly.

-Flashback-

Halloween night had settled in with the chill of autumn, pumpkins lit on doorsteps and a hint of wood smoke in the air. Your dad was out of town, as he often was, leaving just you and your mom to keep up the Halloween traditions. You’d promised her a cozy movie night, just the two of you with popcorn, cookies, and your favorite horror flicks.

When Dean asked if you’d wanted to see a movie with him, the thought of slipping away for a bit had been tempting. But you hesitated, mumbling, “I promised my mom I’d stay in tonight. She’s got this whole thing planned—snacks, homemade cookies. I just… I don’t want to leave her alone, you know?”.

Dean’s face softened in understanding, a warmth in his tone that took you by surprise. “Yeah, I get it”, he said, nodding as if he genuinely respected that. He’d never quite been used to this kind of affection or tradition, but he could see how much it meant to you.

You bit your lip, feeling a bit shy as you added, “And… Actually… She sort of asked if you were planning on sneaking in again tonight or… if you’d want to come by a little earlier. Through the front door this time”. You glanced up at him, nerves fluttering in your stomach. “She said she wouldn’t mind getting to know you… you know, officially”.

Dean blinked, taken aback for a moment, a faint blush creeping up his neck. But then a small smile broke through, soft and genuine. “Yeah?”, he murmured, surprised but clearly pleased. “Well, I could do that. I mean… if you’re sure she’s okay with it?”.

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “She’s more than okay with it. She was… well, I think she’s actually a little curious about the guy I keep sneaking around with”.

Dean chuckled, the sound warm and a bit bashful. “Alright, then. I guess I’ll bring my best manners”. There was a glimmer of humor in his eyes, but you could tell that underneath it, he was touched by the invitation.

A couple of hours later, Dean stood on your front porch, fidgeting slightly as he smoothed down his jacket, looking more nervous than ever. When you opened the door, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him standing there, his usual bravado softened into something more real, more earnest.

As you led him into the cozy warmth of your home, the aroma of freshly baked cookies greeted him. Your mom appeared in the kitchen doorway, a warm smile lighting up her face as she wiped her hands on a towel. “So, Dean was it, right?”, she said, her tone welcoming but curious. She extended her hand, and he shook it, his smile both charming and a little shy.

“Yes, ma’am”, he replied, his voice respectful, clearly wanting to make a good impression.

Your mom chuckled softly as she looked him over, her eyes bright with curiosity and a hint of approval. “ma'am? Uhh, I like him”, she mused aloud, turning to you with a playful smile before looking back at Dean. “I like you, Dean! You’ve got good manners”. She winked, clearly enjoying herself, making Dean shift a bit under the unexpected praise, but his grin didn’t falter.

“Thank you, ma’am”, Dean replied, his voice genuinely grateful.

Your mom led you both toward the kitchen, where the smell of warm cider filled the air. She grabbed three mugs, filling them with the steaming drink before setting them on the table. “I made this batch a little special”, she said with a conspiratorial grin. “Added a touch of something stronger—don’t worry, Dean, in Europe you’re well within the drinking age”, she winked. “Helps with the Halloween chill”.

Dean chuckled, his eyes lighting up as he took the warm mug from her hands. “Well, can’t say no to that”, he said, looking at you with a playful smirk before taking a sip. The taste was warm, spiced, and a little sharper than he expected, but he took it in stride, enjoying the drink and the friendly welcome.

The three of you settled around the kitchen table, and your mom wasted no time in asking Dean questions about his life, his family, and his interests. She listened with genuine interest, her gaze flicking between you and Dean with a subtle smile. You could tell she was pleased, maybe even relieved, to see the two of you together like this, as if her instincts about him had been right all along.

As the evening went on, Dean’s natural charm and respectful demeanor had your mom fully captivated. Even though he had to be careful about what he shared, steering away from the supernatural realities of his life, he answered her questions with an easy politeness that felt genuine. He spoke about his love of cars, a few of his favorite bands, and, without meaning to, started talking about you.

Every time he mentioned your name, there was a softness in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed by your mom. He described the way you’d sneak out for late-night talks, how you could make him laugh no matter what was going on, and his voice took on a rare tenderness when he looked your way. It was clear he was speaking from a place of true admiration and respect, and he had your mom completely wrapped around his finger, though he didn’t seem aware of it.

Your mom beamed, clearly enjoying every bit of his stories. “Well”, she said with a warm smile, looking between you and Dean, “it sounds like you two have been getting along just fine. And you know, Dean, I’m glad she has a friend like you around. She’s always been independent, but it’s good to know there’s someone watching out for her”.

Dean glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment, as if he was still taking in the fact that he was here, being welcomed like this. “She’s something special”, he said, almost to himself, his voice carrying a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

Your mom smiled, nodding. “I can see that”, she replied, looking at you with a proud, knowing expression before shifting her gaze back to Dean. “And you’re welcome here anytime, Dean”.

-End of the Flashback-

Dean took a deep breath, grounding himself back in the present as the warm memory faded, leaving behind a bittersweet ache. He looked around your apartment, taking in the familiar comfort of your space, and he felt that same warmth from years ago, the kind that made him feel at home in a way he rarely did.

You caught him staring at the family photo again, a soft smile pulling at your lips as you noticed the look of nostalgia in his eyes. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Having these memories”.

Dean nodded, his gaze meeting yours, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah”, he murmured. “It is”.

The silence between you felt heavy but comforting, filled with words left unsaid and memories that spoke for themselves. There was something in Dean’s eyes that made you feel like he was seeing you as that teenager all over again—the girl he’d climbed through windows for.

“Didn’t think of them for a while tho”, Dean mumbled, his gaze still fixed on the family photo, though his mind was miles away. His voice held a quiet vulnerability, as if he were opening a door he’d kept closed for years, trying to keep those memories and all they meant at arm’s length.

You moved a little closer, your presence grounding him as he stood there, shoulders slightly slouched, a small, soft smile pulling at his lips despite himself. “It’s strange, but… it feels like it hasn’t been that long since—well, since all of this”.

You felt the weight of his words, sensing that he wasn’t just talking about your apartment or even the past itself but something deeper, something that still connected the two of you. There was a warmth in his eyes, a lingering reminder of that young man he’d been, and the version of yourself that had found something so real in him, even when everything else was uncertain.

“Maybe some things are worth remembering”, you said softly, meeting his gaze and letting the words hang in the air.

Dean nodded, his eyes holding yours, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah”. he replied, his voice barely a whisper, filled with a sincerity that made your heart flutter. “Some things definitely are”.

The quiet, unspoken understanding between you felt like a fragile bridge, connecting who you were then with who you were now.

Before the moment could deepen, you took a small step back, feeling the intensity of the conversation settle over you like a warm but slightly overwhelming blanket. “I’m just… gonna head to the bathroom real quick”, you murmured, offering a shy smile. “Make yourself at home”.

Dean gave you a quick nod, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “Will do”, he replied, watching as you slipped away. He took a deep breath, looking around your apartment once more with a sense of reverence, noticing all the small details that made it so distinctly yours.

As you closed the bathroom door, you leaned against it for a moment, catching your breath. The quiet excitement of having him here, of feeling the past rush back with such clarity, filled you with a thrill that was both comforting and new. You could still feel the warmth of his gaze, the sense that no matter how many years had passed, there was still something alive between you, something that neither time nor distance had managed to erase.

Meanwhile, Dean took in the space around him, glancing at your bookshelf, running his fingers along the spines of well-loved novels, and finding little reminders of who you’d grown into. He smiled to himself, feeling at home in a way he hadn’t in a long time, as if this space held all the things that had been missing from his life on the road.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @globetrotter28

[munsonsmixtapes]

Eddie requests, you ask? 🧐

What about something where the reader pines for Eddie from afar (maybe she’s not super close with him but share mutual friends) and over time has to stand aside as Eddie hooks up with other girls. Perhaps Eddie is in a bit of a fuckboy era and is a little teasing (or at times harsh) to the reader. Something happens where the reader’s feelings are put on blast (oof, embarrassing) and choices have to be made on how things move forward.

It could be an angst —> fluff or pure angst depending on where you see it going!

cw: hurt/comfort, mention of vomit and throwing up

You see him flirting with yet another girl as you stand behind the counter at Family Video. You hate how pathetic you feel pining for someone who will never feel the same way about you. You know he won't because you're not his type. You know you're not because you've seen the girls he goes out with. They're nothing like you and you've come close to changing your entire look just to make him notice you, but Robin and Steve convinced you not to.

They're laughing now and you have to turn away because you want so badly for it to be you. So badly that it makes you feel sick to your stomach. You hate the way it makes you feel and you hate how you're so hung up on someone who doesn't even know you exist.

Steve sees you turn away and his heart aches for you. You're one of his best friends and he just wishes that Eddie would finally see you for the wonderful woman you are.

And he wants the two of you to get together. He wants it so bad. Not only because he wants you to be happy, but also because he thinks you'll be good for Eddie. The one he settles down with and maybe even eventually marries. He's rooting for the two of you and he really hopes it works out.

But the thing was, Eddie had no fucking clue. And it wasn't that he didn't like you, he barely knew you. He actually thought you were sweet and was no stranger to waving at you or even greeting you when he sees you around town.

Eventually, they break apart and head to the counter where the girl puts a DVD on the counter as you scan it while Steve is behind you typing some stuff into the computer as he enters the returns into it.

The girl, Molly, maybe? Or was it Martha? Definitely something with an M, hands you what she owes you while staring at you with her eyes narrowed, trying to figure out where she knows you from. As you hand her back her change, it hits her and her face lights up as she gets the realization.

"Now I know where I know you from," she says like it's been killing her not knowing. You wonder what she's talking about and nothing can prepare you for the words that leave her mouth. "You're the girl who has a crush on Eddie here," she laughs, jerking her thumb over her shoulder as the man behind her. The way she says it doesn't sound like he's making fun of you, but you still feel your cheeks heating up.

"All the girls are talking about it. We think it's really cute, by the way. I um, I saw your notebook when you let me borrow it one time. It had his name scribbled all over it with hearts. So adorable."

Your expression matches Eddie's as your eyes widen in unison. His cheeks are bright red and you feel yours getting hot. You don't even know what to do or say. Your mouth is dry and now you feel like you're going to throw up.

And before you can stop yourself, you're running out of the store, your stomach churning as you hurry to your car. You unlock the door and Eddie's racing after you, hurrying to where you're opening the door and pushing it closed so you can't leave. You whip around and stare at him, feeling tears well up in your eyes as you looked at him.

"What do you want, Eddie?" You ask, wiping your tears from your eyes and his hands move to rest on your shoulders, leaning closer to you, his lips capturing yours. You gasp into his mouth, but eventually melt into him, not able to resist the exact thing you've been wanting for months.

"Sorry I'm late, sweetheart," he says as he pulls away but only for a second before he's kissing you again.

"It's okay," you reply, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

"It's you," he mumbles against your lips. "It's always been you."

"It's always been you too," you tell him as he pushes you against the car gently, wanting to do this exact thing for hours. And if he gets his way, he will.

[vixnovacoda]

Honeyed Lilac and Faded Dreams || Ch 1

Emmrich Volkarin x Rook

If you had asked Lothanni a year ago, never would she have expected to fall so madly in love with a human, let alone a necromancer. But, Emmrich Volkarin was the gentleman needed to thaw her frozen heart, and the necromancer to solve that which haunted her. This is a series of vignettes dedicated to Rook (Lothanni) and her relationship with Emmrich Volkarin as the two become closer than ever before.

Word count: 2.1k

[AO3 version here]

Sleeping was always easy. It was the dreams that followed after which were not. Though, to call them dreams is to undermine the visions that cursed Lothanni, but they weren’t nightmares. She believed calling it a nightmare was disrespectful for nightmares are fictitious beasts that the mind created out of fear.

This was real.

The screams were real. The fire was real. The pain.

Then it stopped – as it always did – with a rattling gasp for air and shaking limbs and a cold sweat like she had been running for her life over an endless landscape. Stilted and disoriented, Lothanni flung her hands out for the nearest object she could clutch on to, which in her poor excuse for a room within the Lighthouse was the edge of the sofa, as she blinked away the blurriness and all she could hear in those early moments was the pounding of her heart, followed by the catching of her breath that she took seething and behind gritted, chattering teeth. What a mess she must have looked like. But, at least no one was there to witness it besides herself. If there was one thing to know about Lothanni Aldwr-Lavellan, it was this: she refused to be a mess before any man or thing; it showed weakness.

“Darling?” Until him, a singular man that stood in her doorway. Emmrich Volkarin. He made her weak, turned her sweet. When he looked at her the way he did now, short of breath, hair dishevelled, shirt out of sorts, half undone; the picture of worry. A sore sight. It made what was remaining of her heart crack and crumble, sinking to the depths. All because he had rushed his way over to her room, to her, some Dalish Elf he had taken a liking to.

“Emmrich, what… Did I wake you?” Lothanni asked, a sharp rasp scratching against her throat as she spoke.

“A little, dearest. You had poor Manfred so concerned he went and fetched me. There was screaming. I am glad he did,” Emmrich replied in earnest, ambling over to her side and knelt when she would not budge or speak or linger on him a second longer. He was the last person Lothanni wanted around to see her like this. Her problems were her own. But, then he made contact with her, concern creasing his finessed features and how could she push back against him with force when those eyes caressed her shape with such reverence?

Trying to catch a glimpse at her state, Emmrich peered up at her. “Are you alright?”

She shook her head. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just a bad dream.” That’s all it ever was.

“Do you wish to talk about it?”

“I… I,” stammering, she raked the nail of her thumb back and forth across her thumb, jaw stiffening, clenching and unclenching, then dug into the side of her finger, and clenched and unclenched again. She didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t bring herself into telling him what she once had considered admitting. The words lost themselves before she could think. Until the welcome chill of metal froze her temperament with the gentle clasp of Emmrich’s hands on her own. Her problems were supposed to be her own, that’s what surviving in the forests had taught her. Only, he changed that.

“We don’t have to. I won’t force you to tell me anything that brings you discomfort,” consoled Emmrich.

“N-No, I want to,” proclaimed Lothanni. “I want to. It’s just.” He watched the rise and slow descent of her chest, her hand tensing up as old dreams became ineludible thoughts, only for it all to be soothed with a simple motion. Emmrich, saying nothing, drew his thumb along her hand in a circular shape, flesh against flesh, the way one may apply a balm to a burn. It was almost hypnotic. Damn, how she would slumber under his caring hand if it was not for the fact her dreams would only wake her again. She assumed the motion must have been something his mother used on him whenever little Emmrich was frightened of the things that went bump in the night. Little Emmrich who had to suffer with no one else that could repeat the same level of care his mother once used on him; an orphan that could talk about his parents death so easily. “How is someone supposed to utter a truth so shattering it could break the foundations of something they hold special?” she inquired and met him eye-to-eye where his loving shine wobbled in trepidation. Deep down there still was that little boy reliving the news about his parents all over again. Yet, it did not stop him from speaking.

“One tends to find the courage from somewhere within their heart,” answered Emmrich, the slightest waver and the slightest crack hiding within his voice.

It was him that took no time in bringing up the matter back at the Necropolis and she was thankful he trusted her enough to open up as such, that he chose her to confide in. But, here was Lothanni who struggled time and time again. Not because she didn’t trust him. No. Because she loved him.

She loved him and she was a coward.

Relinquishing, she placed a hand on his cheek. “You are far braver than I, Emmrich Volkarin.”

He stared at her as the warmth from his flushed face spread to her palm before looking to the side in his own way of saying ‘that’s not true’, a humble smile exaggerating the engraved lines of his face. But, he would never dare refute her on such matters. At least, not when there were other matters to discuss.

“Back to you?” Emmrich leaned into her touch.

“Back to me.” She took a deep breath. It was time. She could feel the quivering of her ribcage as she took in air and shut her eyes for a moment, holding and focusing on his touch. He was still here, after everything they both had been through, and he looked determined to stay like it was his sole sworn duty to be there for her come what may. She only wondered how long that might last.

“Right, well, um,” began Lothanni, “Every night, I get these… dreams. But, they’re more a memory than imaginary, and I can feel them too – well, only lately. Every night, I see fire. It’s everywhere, others, my clan, our camp, the forest, the halla; all consuming my vision. I can do nothing. Forced to watch as they scream. They. Always. Scream. Suffering. Needlessly suffering, and every night, I suffer with them. It-It’s my punishment.” Words fell out, she lost composure, could feel herself slipping from the precipice of sanity. Hints of a memory all rushing back while she spoke. The fire, the sights. The burning of her flesh, the sensations. The smoke in her nose, the smells. The screams. Loose curly wisps of her hair fell in front of her face, knocked out of place as she choked on a sob. It wasn’t until her mouth shut did they stop, leaving her a shaking mess once more.

Emmrich squeezed her hand in that way others so often did that was comforting, gentle yet firm. A reminder that he was still there. “Punishment?” he asked.

She nodded. “For surviving. For being why they all died.”

Bangles jingled while older hands went to cradle her face all so lovingly and, through the blur that swarmed her vision, he mumbled something so sweet it hurt her heart too much to hear. She could not, at that moment, understand why he was still there. Him and his soothing spirit should have left, not wiping away a single tear that fell and smudging it into her cheek with his thumb; he should have been disgusted. All this kindness and patience and unbotheredness, it made her want to pry the warmth of him off her as the way it was intended. She didn’t deserve any of this. “I should have died,” she cried, and rampant went the tears which ran from her face as her speech turned into a blathering heap. “Blood. So much. Th-There is so much blood on these hands. Why, why do you persist?”

“Lothanni—”

“Why?” exclaimed her, full of spittle, confusion, and displaced rage.

Her vision was limited, a vignette of tears, but she could just make out the sadness in Emmrich’s eyes and the shape of his brow that sat low atop them before taking a seat beside her  – even sat he was still taller, however, this time he chose to be on her level. Her shoulders heaved, body panting to keep up with herself.

He chose to get closer.

He chose to stay.

Suddenly, his head was pressed to hers with their foreheads rested against each other’s and the hands either side of Lothanni’s cheeks nestled their way, firm yet soft, into place, his fingertips entangling themselves in the sides of her scarlet strands. “Breathe,” he told her, less of a command and more of a guide as he breathed slowly and deeply for her to follow, and she did. Breathing in, and out, in, and out. The bitterness crumbling apart; her hands losing their prying grip. The tears came to a stop. The heavy wave washed away. 

She had fallen apart completely before him and he held her together; the missing piece to her puzzle.

Over and over, she repeated small mumblings of an apology while trying to straighten herself up because it wasn’t fair for him to be thrusted into dealing with all of that. It probably wasn’t what he was expecting at all when she told him it was a bad dream. A few errant tears escaped, and Emmrich would have none of it. Delicately, he brought his mouth to her tears, kissing away each and every one and then he spoke, the salt of her sadness lingering on his lips. “You don’t think I come with problems of my own?”

“I.” Lothanni sighed. “You don’t exactly give off the impression. You’re always so put together.”

“My love, you give me too much credence.” Emmrich bowed in a small degree out of humility. “I am fortunate to have had time and company to help me pick up the pieces from time to time. I’ve had practice. It is a misfortune that you think I would not do the same for you, but I will always be by your side,” said Emmrich softly like a murmured kiss against skin, the kind that made flesh rise and bump, and soothed the soul.

With peace came silence. A much needed exhale among all the chaos of moments prior. Under the refracting glow from the aquarium, Lothanni brushed her a knuckle along the side of Emmrich’s cheekbone and fixed the odd few stray grey hairs. She took the time to study him while they stayed there, a hair’s breadth away from each other, watching the ever shimmering light pattern danced over his form that revealed new things, such as this aching desire to not be left on her lonesome all over again.

Emmrich chuckled puzzledly. “Dearest?”

“Emmrich?” asked Lothanni. “Can you stay tonight, please?”

At that request, he did not waver. “Of course.” He smiled and the crow’s feet around his eyes fattened themselves at the softening of his face. Perhaps he had been waiting long for the opportunity; she had, after all, been frequently turning down any suggestions by staying up late for coffee with Lucanis until everyone else went to sleep, or maybe he was just being kind. Whatever the explanation, it mattered not. She wasn’t alone anymore.

“One day, when the haunts no longer rattle me, I’ll tell you what happened to my clan, the whole of it,” said Lothanni in a whisper to the collar of his shirt which she now buried her face inside.

“Whatever works for you. Know that you have no obligation to tell me, though,” said Emmrich, his arms finding their way around her back.

“I’m aware, but, still, it’s important to me. This is important to me, that you know this part of me.” Lothanni raised her head. “Because you’re important to me, vhenan,” declared Lothanni with a newfound conviction she had yet the courage to show Emmrich until now.

Emmrich Volkarin, he who held her not like she was some delicate Orlesian vase or wild animal, but a person. He who was afraid of death, yet did not leave despite knowing what she could do and had done. He who stayed. He who smelled of honeyed lilac and faded dreams. He.

He changed everything.

And for the first in a long time, sleep came easy and so did the dreams.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

tried to make my beloved oc adriana in d.ragons d.ogma

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Recount Your Kids, Batman

[A loose continuation to this post]

Talia doesn't visit the Wayne manor. At least not regularly nor officially. All the batkids and Batman know she comes sometimes, just to check up on Damian and maybe bother Bruce from time to time, but this is the first time she has ever shown up to a dinner.

And, as they all take their seats, she gives Damian a long curios glance. Then, she looks to Bruce.

"Is that everyone?" She asks, easy and lighthearted. One might think she is simply not acquainted with the number of Wayne children or that she is teasing Bruce on the sheer amount of them. But Damian is looking down to his plate, and Tim knows for sure Talia keeps up with Wayne's head count, and Dick is fairly certain Talia would never tease Bruce, at least not so subtly.

It could have been some sort of a hint at Jason. If he was not here, that is. But he is, for once, so this is really all the family at one table.

"Yes?" Dick tries, looking around the table just to make sure. Steph and Babs are not here today, but that's definitely not what Talia could have meant. Bruce also looks just a little confused, which is a nice change of pace since he looked guarded and on edge from the very moment Talia showed up.

The woman hums, her eyes studying Damian. The youngest bat keeps his gaze down on his empty plate. No one really understands what's going on, but they all feel like there's something important and heavy hanging in the air.

Then, Talia stands up and turns to Alfred, "We will be dining later. It has come to my attention that kids are a lot more secretive than I thought," she explains cryptically and smiles at Bruce, "Beloved, will you come with me to the training grounds? I have something to show you."

Bruce doesn't move for a long moment, and Talia's smile becomes almost gentle, "It's about your son."

At least that makes the man move.

When they get down to the Cave - since Talia insisted this was not a matter that could be resolved in the manor's training room - it's not only her, Bruce, and the little bat there, of course. The whole family was way too intrigued, and some were even alarmed.

The most alarming part, though, was the fact that Damian had been uncharacteristically quiet on their way down. Yet, when Dick looked to Cass, she just shook her head slightly. The boy was not worried. To Cass, he looked almost resigned, if a bit displeased.

"Your sword, Damian," Talia commands, and the boy presses his lips into a thin line.

"This is not necessary, Mother."

"It is," the woman looks amused, but there's an underlying layer of concern to her tone.

"...Yes, Mother," Damian nods his head on what feels like surrender and takes his katana. Not the training one, the real blade. Bruce makes a soft, alarmed grunt, but Talia waves him off.

"Not to worry, Beloved. I will not harm our brethren."

She doesn't take a stance, nor does she pick out a weapon, simply lunges for Damian as soon as they are both on the mats. Two daggers seem to appear in her hands out of nothing, and, contrary to her words, her aim is towards Damian's neck. The boy blocks, jumps away, and blocks another attack.

Tim steps closer, "You can't just-"

"Step away, Drake," It's the first time Damian has spoken to them since they've sat down for dinner. His voice is tense, but not derisive. If anything, it sounds a bit tired.

Talia lunges for him again, faster, meaner. Metal clings against metal.

"You understand this can not keep going, my child," she tells the boy, startlingly gentle on the contrary to her definitely dangerous strikes.

Damian doesn't answer.

The rest of Batfam are forced to simply watch the encounter: Damian is mostly on defense as Talia goes for him, harder and harder with every hit. Until, without any warning, the woman strikes for Damian's arm, making him drop his katana, and-

A few things happen at once.

Talia lunges for Damian's throat. Bruce jumps onto the mats so fast that he almost trips. Tim yelps.

But Talia's blade doesn't strike.

A figure of another child, eerily similar to Damian and wearing the League of Assassins uniform, is standing in front of the littlest bat, two crystal clear blades in his hands, blocking the dagger.

Bruce halts midstep. The rest of the family holds their breath.

But Talia simply smiles and drops her daggers, backing away and looking at the boy between her and Damian with a fond gaze.

"Danyal," she greets, and the boy huffs, lowering his weapons. He doesn't drop them - they simply dissipate in the air, turning into tiny snowflakes.

"Mother," he greets back begrudgingly, and his voice is the exact replica of Damian's. A clone? No, because Damian reacts to him nothing like he had to the clones, simply clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes.

"You could have simply asked, Mother," he comments, taking a step forward and stading near the other boy. Danyal. When standing side by side, they look nearly identical - same facial features, same posture, same hair, even if Damian's is a little more tame.

But Danyal's eyes are just a few hues off. Still green but lighter than Damian's.

"I assumed if you have spent years living here and never bothered to mention your brother, I would need a little more than asking, my love," Talia doesn't laugh, but it sounds like she wants to. Both boys roll their eyes, perfectly in sync.

Hold the fuck up, brother?

"Huh. I thought you died," Jason mentions offhandedly, and the whole family whips their heads to him. Yet, before any of them speak, it's Danyal who answers.

"I mean, I did? Kinda?" He waves his hand in the air and shrugs, and he acts so unlike Damian while also simultaneously having his face, that it makes Tim shiver a little.

"You-" Bruce starts, seeming to finally find his voice, but the boy cuts him off.

"I'm not actually yours," he snorts at Bruce's facial expression, "Yeah, I know I look like I am. Blame the ghost sewers, Chronos, and my stupid ass for making decisions while not being fully awake."

There is so much to unpack in that sentence that no one has the barest of ideas on where to start.

Damian curves his lips down in a sneer.

"The longer you stay there staring, the colder the dinner will be when we return," he reminds them, and Danyal suddenly perks up.

"Dinner? Can I join? It's been ages since I've had anything home cooked," he smiles, like there's some kind of an inside joke in that sentence. Damian rolls his eyes.

"The food doesn't come alive in this household, Danyal."

"Bummer," the boy looks a bit disappointed, but not too much. "And it's Danny, for the thousandth time."

Talia picks up her daggers, hiding them somewhere in her clothes in an unnoticeable motion. Then, she gives Bruce a small, if a bit sly, smile.

"You can not call it 'family dinner' if not all your family is there."

[onskepa]

Hi how are you? If you want, could you tell us what your headcanons would be for what the Sully children's relationship would be like with a human/avatar mother who was mated with Jake and Neytiri? Thank you very much, have a great day!

I can see a lot of possible outcomes for this one! So here ya go! Enjoy!

P.S: Reader will not be given a name in this one, instead she will be called "small mama"

Pinnacle protection

-------------------------------

Pinnacle motherhood

Right off the bat, the whole family loves their third mother, second mate. Jake sully couldn't ask for a better family, and better mates. Especially his little human mate. Neytiri will agree with him, while yes she has her children to hug, her little mate is just what she needs. Something small yet full of love just for her. 

Now like any trio, there is a balance between the parents. Jake is the head of the family, the brains with his clever ideas. Neytiri at times can be the brains but most muscle due to her skills in fighting and hunting. And their beloved human is the heart of the family. Keeping everyone together. 

And like any child, the sully kids will have favorites. And their favorite is their amazing human mother. She is the most fun, loving parent any child could ever ask for. Are they not getting their way with Jake or neytiri? To mama it is! And mama will always fold by the simple look of her kids. 

Another thing about their favorite mama, they all believe she has the power to read their minds. How else would it explain she knows their next move? 

Lo’ak and tuk can recall so many instances where they were barely forming an idea only for their mama to say “dont even think about it” or “it is not worth the trouble”. 

For neteyam, as he is the oldest he does try to be a good example for his mischievous siblings, along with holding so many responsibilities, but he can always count on his small mama for anything. Small mama consoles him, talking about anything neteyam has his mind about. 

Unlike Jake or neytiri who neteyam has to put up a strong warrior face, with a small mama he can revert back to being a baby with her. He feels safe and be a kid again with her. And small mama always called him her “little baby boy”. Neteyam won't admit it but he likes it when she calls him that. 

For kiri, she definitely adores her small mama. She is closer to her third parent than she is with neytiri. Not to be mean or anything. But with Jake, Kiri can talk about what odd things happen around her, ask her about her mother and stuff but with her small mama. Well, she can express far more with her, be free to say anything not be judged upon. Kiri can dare say small mama understands her more than anyone in the world.

With tuk, the baby of the family. Why, she loves to be the taller one, it makes her happy. Of course she would never tease her small mama that she is taller, but small mama would call her “tiny tuk”. A name tuk loves and will glady flex it for some reason. 

If tuk can't go somewhere with her older siblings, small mama would personally take her anywhere she wants to go. As long as it is safe. With small mama, everything is fun and never boring. Tuk loves the times where her hair is braided or she braids small mama’s hair. 

Now, if small mama would use her avatar, nothing much would change. Except that now the kids will demand piggy back rides. Tuk or lo’ak would be front of the line for that.  

Hunting would be easier and much more fun with jake and neytiri, running, riding their ikrans, less risk overall. 

Even with her avatar, she is still short compared to her two mates. She is smaller than Neytiri by 9 ½ inches. Not something she is super thrilled about. No matter what body, she is still small mama through and through. 

Small mama is forever grateful to live her best life with her family, loving them and saying her thanks to Eywa for blessing her to be the best of her two worlds. Through hardships, through trials, small mama has a mighty heart and a roar of an ikran. Yes sometimes she might be stressed or frustrated but life is not perfect. Small mama knows that all too well. But there is nothing better than what she has. 

[chleem]

Rest of my life

One shot: bf drew x gf yn

Summary: babysitting drew’s niece leads to the realization that you’re the one for him.  

Genre: established relationship, fluff

Warnings: so sweet u get cavities

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Which girl did you knock up?” 

Is the first thing you say upon entering Drew’s apartment, your eyes landing on Drew, who has a baby securely strapped against his stomach in a white carrier, the baby looking over at you with doe eyes. 

Drew freezes for a second, then shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he sets a large bag down on the kitchen table. "Oh, y’know, some girl I met on set."

There’s a reason why you and Drew are perfect for each other; the playful banter comes so naturally between you two that it feels like breathing, like there’s no awkwardness in this situation; finding Drew with a baby you’ve never seen before. 

Although, this baby looks oddly familiar. 

“Remember Lils?” Drew asks, as you walk over to him, setting your own bag on the table as well. 

Your eyes light up at the name, recalling the times Drew would show you pictures of his niece. “Oh hi,” you immediately pitch your voice higher, making it soft and playful. The baby, with her big, curious eyes, reaches out her tiny hand, and before you even know it, she’s grabbing onto your finger. 

Her little grip is surprisingly strong, and you can’t help but smile at how adorable she is. “She grew so big,” you comment, looking up at Drew. 

He’s got a soft smile on his lips. “I’know, and I got her for the whole day.”

Your raise an eyebrow playfully at him, “I thought we’re going to the beach today.”

“Yeah, we are,” he emphasizes on that word, his eyes bouncing back between him and Lil. 

Lil lets go of your hand, so you cross your arms at Drew. You roll your eyes, yet the grin on your face gives away your amusement. “Fine. I won’t rob you of your uncle-niece time.”

A chuckle escapes Drew’s lips, and he brings you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your waist. “Lil says it’s okay for you to be there,” his voice, low and playful, as he plants a kiss on your jaw. “Third wheel, you okay with that?”

“Delightful,” you try to sound annoyed at that idea, but really, you looked forward to it. 

Originally, it was a beach date with Drew, but his sister must’ve had some emergency, leading to the sudden babysit. You had no idea that it was going to turn out like this, but you don’t mind. 

Besides, it gives you a chance to see what uncle Drew is like. 

“Aww, don’t be jealous,” he teases, rubbing your elbow, a habit he’s grown into since knowing you. 

“I could never compete with this girl,” you smile down at Lil, whose lips slowly forms an O. You coo at her, playing with her little adorable fingers.

Drew glances down at his watch, snapping you out of the little world you’ve absorbed yourself with Lil in only a few seconds. “Hotdog stand might close. Let’s go.”

“I’m trying the taco one!” You happily chirp, remembering how the last time you went there, a long argument between the two of you resulted in you getting the pizza flavored hot dog. 

“Alright, alright,” Drew assures, taking both of the bags off the table. 

You make an attempt to grab at least one bag from him, but he declines, carrying it all the way to the car himself. 

——

Unknowingly, the whole day at the beach has passed. 

Drew had been so focused on spending time with his niece, he didn’t even notice the way the sky changed. One moment, they were splashing in the shallow waves, building sandcastles, the next, the sun was dipping low.

He walks back to the beach with hotdogs in his hands; buying the snacks now since the crowd has disappeared. 

He replays scenes of today in his mind, thinking about how easy it’s been today. How effortless it felt, spending time with you and Lil. He’d watched you interact with his niece all afternoon—how you encouraged her to explore the sand, showing her the little crabs skittering along the shoreline etc. 

And now, as he makes his way back, he can’t shake the image of you laughing with Lil, your face lighting up when the baby made a funny sound or reached out for you.

He reaches the blanket that the two of you had spread out earlier on the sand, and he glances over your shoulder, expecting to see you playing with Lil. 

Instead, he freezes. 

There you are, holding his niece in your arms. Lil’s fast asleep, her little body relaxed against your chest. 

Drew’s first thought is how cute his niece is. 

His eyes then drift over to you; And that’s when it hits him.

The realization of this moment, the quiet way you’re holding his baby niece, strikes him. His heart skips a beat as he watches you, a quiet warmth flooding his chest. 

The sight of you with her, so natural, so right, feels more profound than anything he expected.

What is this feeling? He thinks.

He tries to shake it off. It’s not just about Lil. It’s about you, the way you make everything feel so simple, so easy. He never expected to see you like this, to see you so gentle, so present.

Is this what love feels like? He doesn’t know. But in that moment, staring at the two of you, something in him clicks. He doesn’t have a name for it yet, but it’s there—this pull, this feeling that maybe, just maybe, everything he thought he wanted was right here in front of him.

“Drew?” 

Your voice is gentle and soft as you call out for him, afraid to wake the baby up. 

Your gaze meets his, and for a second, the world feels smaller. His heart skips again, mind racing around as he scrambles for words in his mind. 

“Hey,” he manages to breathe out, sitting down beside you. He’s careful with his movements, even when handing you your hotdog to your free hand. His lips curl into a soft smile,  almost shy, “she’s out cold, huh?”

He watches as you completely ignore his words, biting down on the hotdog you’ve been waiting for for the whole day. His smile grows; his mind reminded of how easy it is to be around you. It’s not that you’ve said much or done anything extraordinary—just the way you seem to savor the simple things, like food, time spent together—it draws him in every time.

“Good?” Drew asks, teasing hinted in his voice, yet his eyes soften as he waits for your answer. 

“Strange. The pizza flavor’s better,” you comment through chews. 

Laughter erupts in his chest, making you look confusingly at him. You swallow, looking at him with doe eyes. “Let me take her,” he says, his hands reaching for his niece. 

You let him, mainly because of how hungry you are. The exchange is smooth; he now holds Lil in his arms, and you hold onto the two hotdogs, eating away one of them. 

“Y/n?”

You quickly finish the bite, humming at Drew continue talking. He’s looking at you with a soft gaze, almost smitten. He calls for your name, but doesn’t say anything. 

“You want a bite?” You ask, filling in the silence. 

Drew chuckles, and with his free hand, he pulls you by the back of your neck closer to him. He kisses you, slow and soft. You relax under his touch, letting the warm and bubbly feeling flow through you. 

You eventually pull away, needing to catch your breath. Drew’s lips are apart as he stares at you; the look in his eyes making it hard to steady your heartbeat. 

For seconds that felt like minutes, silence lingers between you two, eyes locked into each others’ as if any move, would disturb the calmness of this moment. 

Well, the moment is disturbed, because the smell of poop enters the air, as well as the sound of crying. 

Lil's awake, and in a stinky emergency.

You’re the first to pull away, chuckling as you glance down at Lil. “Shit.”

“Yup,” he purses his lips. You get ready to put the hotdogs down, wanting to help change her diapers, when Drew stops you. “I’ll do it.”

“Do I even have the appetite anymore?” You joke, the smile reappearing on Drew’s lips after hearing that. 

“When do you not?” He comments, setting Lil down and reaching for the diaper bag. 

You hit his arm playfully again, laughter coming out of you. You turn and look out onto the ocean waves, putting the hotdogs down to the side.

This moment right here? You want to remember it always. Remember this beach, this adorable little baby, this hotdog (just important as everything else), and this man, that you’ve found yourself to rely on more than you should. 

You hope Drew feels the same way too; that this moment right now, will forever be engraved in your heart. 

Little did you know; it's already engraved in his, as the moment he fell in love with you. 

The moment he realized, that you’re who he wants for the rest of his life. 

-------------------------------

word count: 1.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: my first time writing something of pure fluff...hope you enjoyed reading! i was in the mode for something sweet, craving a bf real bad T_T

and yes, im a creep that stalked his sister's ig to find the name of his niece. im sorry im sorry im sorry

[finelinefae]

safety [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: harry is always there to help bambi, always.

word count: 5.4k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), harry meets the family, crybaby reader lowkey

a/n: apologies for this taking so long. I've moved into university and switched courses within three weeks so I've had to do a lot of adjusting! But I hope you're doing well, thank you so so so much for all the love on the first part of bambi and being so patient with this part <333

this is part 2 of bambi, read part 1 here

. . .

Y/N sighed as she stepped into the living room, her heart sinking at the sight of her mother passed out on the couch. It was Friday night, and her mom was still in her work uniform, one shoe barely hanging from her foot while the other lay haphazardly across the room. A wave of frustration and sadness hit her hard. She had begged her mom to take the day off to watch the boys so she could go on her date with Harry tonight—the date she’d been looking forward to all week.

This was supposed to be their third date, just before she started working with him at Pleasing this weekend. Their last date had been simple—strolling hand in hand by the river, talking about everything and nothing. But tonight was different. Harry had told her to dress up; he had something important to ask her and was taking her somewhere special. Y/N had been buzzing with excitement ever since.

Glancing at her phone, she felt the sting of tears. Halfway through her makeup, she now realized it didn’t matter—she’d have to cancel. With her mother out cold and no babysitter available at such short notice, the responsibility fell on her. And it was ruining everything.

She opened Harry’s contact on her phone, staring at the little pink heart next to his name. Her thumb hovered over the call button as doubt crept in. What if he never wanted to see her again after this? Cancelling last minute was embarrassing, and she dreaded how angry or disappointed Harry might be.

Her thumb pressed down, the ringing growing louder with each second. Anxiety gnawed at her as she picked at the skin around her nails.

Suddenly, the call connected, and Harry’s voice, smooth and soothing like a lullaby, poured through the speaker. “Bambi? Was jus’ about to pick y’ up. You missin’ me already?”

Her lip trembled, and a tear slid down her cheek as she sniffled. “Harry…” Her voice cracked.

“Hey, what’s wrong, love?” Concern filled his voice instantly, and the warmth of it made her chest tighten.

“I-I can’t go on our date tonight,” she confessed, her voice shaky.

“What d’you mean? Don’t be silly, is something wrong?” His slight panic was clear, making her feel even worse.

“No, it’s not like that. It’s just… my mom came home late, and she’s, um, not able to watch the boys, so I have to stay and babysit. I’m really sorry, Harry. I wanted to go tonight, I swear. I understand if you’re mad or—if you never want to see me again—”

“Woah, woah, Bambi, baby, stop panickin’. I don’t hate you, not at all. It’s closer to the opposite, so calm down, yeah? ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice still thick with emotion. “Y’promise?”

“Five pinkie swears, baby,” he chuckled softly, making her giggle through the tears. “It’s alright. These things happen. But are you okay? Need me to grab you anything? Have y’eaten today?”

His kindness made her heart swell. “N-No, but we’ve got stuff in the freezer I can heat up. Maybe we can reschedule?”

“Bambi, I’m already on my way to your house.”

Her breath hitched. “What? But, Harry, I can’t—”

“You think I’d let a little change of plans stop me from seein’ you? Been needin’ to see m’Bambi all day. How ‘bout this: you help your mum, and I’ll come by and make dinner for all of you. Sound good?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he real? Was he really this thoughtful, this willing to come over despite everything?

“Harry, you don’t have to—”

“I want to. Now, go get in some comfy pjs, and I’ll stop by the store to grab snacks. Maybe we can watch a movie later. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice lighter now. “That sounds perfect.”

“Alright, I’ll be over in thirty minutes. Take a deep breath for me, Bambi.”

Immediate relief washed over her at the idea of having an extra pair of hands to help her with something that she’d normally be left alone to and better yet it was Harry who was coming to help her. So, she did exactly that - breathe. 

. . . 

Y/N was pushing clothes into the washing machine when she heard the doorbell ring. Her heart skipped a beat or possibly maybe two when she heard it. She forced the door shut on the machine and walked to the front door. She frowned the closer she got when she could already hear Harry’s voice but that was soon followed by the voice of her younger brother. 

“I know jujitsu, you know,” Archie announced, his small five-foot frame blocking the doorway.

“You take classes?” Harry asked, bemused.

“No, I learned it on Roblox,” Archie replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve heard of that one before. You’ll have to show me sometime,” Harry said with a grin.

Archie snorted. “You could just be saying that to get into our house and rob us.”

Y/N’s face heated with embarrassment as she approached the door, ushering Archie out of the way. Harry’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw her. “Y/N, this pizza delivery guy is trying to break into our house,” Archie said. Y/N looked to see Harry holding two pizza boxes and a plastic bag.

“Archie,” Y/N gasped, “this is not a pizza delivery man. This is Harry.”

Harry smiled, clearly trying not to laugh, and offered Archie a small wave. It did nothing to ease the suspicious look on Archie’s face. “Who’s Harry?”

Y/N froze, unsure of how to answer. Harry was both her boss and the man she was dating, but she couldn’t exactly explain that to her little brother. “He’s... my special friend.”

Archie looked between them for a moment, then shrugged and wandered off. Y/N’s shoulders sagged with relief as she turned to face Harry, who was still grinning at her. He looked incredibly handsome in his matching brown suit, his curly hair tousled in that familiar way. Her heart sank a little, knowing he had dressed up for their date.

“H-Harry, I’m really sorry—” she began, but before she could finish, Harry set the pizza boxes down and pulled her into a tight embrace. She breathed in the fruity scent of his cologne as he gently rubbed circles on her back.

“Bambi,” he murmured with a soft sigh, “I missed you.”

She smiled against his chest. “You just saw me the other day, and we FaceTimed last night.”

Harry pulled back slightly, cupping her cheeks with his large hands. “Kiss?”

Her cheeks flushed, as they always did when he asked for a kiss. She stood on her toes, meeting his lips, savouring the softness of his touch and the faint taste of peppermint from his lip balm. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he murmured against her lips. “I brought pizza.”

“You didn’t have to,” Y/N sighed softly. “I was just going to throw something in the oven.”

“Hey, Bambi.” She looked up, meeting his gaze already fixed on her. “I wanted to. I’m here to help, okay? Now, why don’t we eat this before it gets cold? You grab some plates, and I’ll set the table.”

“O-Oh, okay.” She nodded, a bit flustered. “Just so you know, my brothers can be… intense.”

Harry smiled, his expression easygoing. “It’s okay, I’ve got a niece. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Y/N led him into the living room where her little brothers were scattered. Archie sat in the corner, hunched over the computer, likely playing the game he had mentioned to Harry earlier.

“Who are you?” a small voice piped up. Harry glanced down to see a boy around six or seven, looking at him curiously.

“That’s Y/N’s special friend,” Archie chimed in without even turning around from his game.

“Weren’t you the guy making out with my sister the other night?” The eldest of the three boys, who looked about fourteen, spoke up from where he was watching TV. Despite his age, there was a maturity in his tone that caught Harry off guard.

Harry chuckled, feeling Y/N stiffen beside him. He gave the teenager a polite smile. “Well, I guess that’s one way to put it.”

“Sammy go and get the plates from the kitchen, Harry bought us pizza.” Sammy huffed, pausing the tv and doing exactly as his sister said. 

“Jack, can you grab an extra chair?” Y/N asked the youngest boy, her voice gentle but firm. Harry watched as the boys immediately followed their eldest sister’s instructions without question. A small pang tugged at his chest—part of him felt for her, having to shoulder the responsibility of looking after three growing boys. He didn’t know every detail of her family life, but seeing the way they interacted was enough to tell him they’d had to adapt quickly.

They all gathered around the table, two extra-large pizzas laid out in front of them. Harry chuckled at the sight of the boys eyeing the food like it was a rare treasure.

“Calm down,” he murmured with a grin, leaning close to Y/N. “Y’ so stiff, Bambi.”

Y/N blushed, fidgeting slightly. “Sorry, I just get so—”

“So?” Harry interrupted, smirking as he tried to coax her into a fluster. “So what, baby?”

“So nervous,” Y/N huffed, her cheeks burning as she realized he was toying with her.

A throat cleared from across the table, and Y/N suddenly felt three pairs of eyes locked onto them. Jack and Archie looked disgusted by the couple’s banter, while the eldest boy, Sammy, was glaring at Harry with an intensity that made Harry suppress a laugh.

“How old are you?” Sammy asked bluntly, his gaze sharp and protective.

Y/N choked on her drink. “Sammy! You can’t just ask people that—it’s rude!”

Harry chuckled, raising a hand to calm her. “No, it’s alright,” he said, amused. “I’m thirty.”

“Whoa, you’re old!” Archie blurted out, eyes wide with surprise.

“Archie!” Y/N gasped, mortified, while Jack burst out laughing.

“I guess it is kind of old,” Harry shrugged playfully, glancing at Y/N with a wink.

“Are you rich?” Sammy pressed, undeterred.

Y/N’s face flushed even more, praying the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

“I do well,” Harry replied, keeping his tone light. “I own a fashion company.”

“That means he’s rich,” Archie chimed in, eyes lighting up. “Do you have a sports car?”

Harry leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, “I own three.”

Archie gasped, his face a picture of awe. “No wonder you can afford two extra-large pizzas!”

“If you think that’s cool, wait till you hear what else I brought,” Harry teased.

“Candy?” Archie’s eyes grew even wider, filled with excitement.

“Better.”

“Ice cream?”

Harry nodded. “Ice cream, candy, whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles... you name it.”

Archie looked as though he might pass out from pure joy. Sweets after dinner weren’t a common occurrence in their house unless it was a special occasion.

Harry’s smile softened as his eyes flicked to Sammy, who was still watching him with guarded suspicion. “What do you want from my sister?” Sammy finally asked, his tone sharp.

Y/N cringed, wishing she could disappear like Jack, who was contentedly munching on pizza, completely oblivious to the tension. Her cheeks were already burning before she’d even taken a bite.

Harry’s hand found its way to her knee under the table, a silent reassurance that he knew exactly how she was feeling without her having to say a word.

“It’s still early,” Harry said honestly, his gaze meeting Sammy’s without faltering. “But I really, really like your sister.”

Sammy seemed to relax at that, but not without a final warning. “You’re not allowed to like her as much as we do.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed at the words. Despite the challenges, the boys were her world, her best friends.

Harry smiled warmly, his voice sincere. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

. . .

"Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!" Archie came barreling into the kitchen, his face smeared with chocolate and whipped cream from the ice cream sundaes they’d made earlier. Y/N was bent over the washing machine, pulling out clothes to hang on the makeshift line by the window.

"Harry says he's gonna take us to the indoor waterpark in the city for my birthday! Isn't that awesome? And he beat Sammy's score on the new game he bought us!"

Y/N glanced up, smiling softly at Archie's excitement. The boys had been glued to the computer for hours after Harry surprised them with a game they’d been begging for. The sound of their wild laughter had echoed through the house all afternoon.

Footsteps approached the kitchen, and she looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Harry, I was just telling Y/N about the waterpark you’re taking us to," Archie said eagerly.

Harry’s eyes flicked to Y/N. "Ah, yes," he said, smiling at her. "I heard there’s a certain someone’s birthday coming up soon."

Archie's birthday was still a month away, and Y/N had only planned a simple celebration—movies, takeout, and cake. As Archie bolted from the kitchen, beaming about the waterpark, Y/N’s smile faded slightly.

Harry noticed the shift immediately. "What’s wrong?" he asked, stepping closer and reaching for her hand. "Did I mess something up?"

"N-no," Y/N replied quickly, shaking her head. "You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just... Archie's birthday isn’t for another month."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So?"

Y/N hesitated, her words stumbling over themselves. "I just don’t want to make promises, you know, in case… I mean, what if…" She trailed off, struggling to find a way to express the growing anxiety in her chest. She adored Harry, more than she could articulate, but a part of her couldn’t help worrying about the future—the uncertainties that came with letting someone new into their lives.

"Bambi," Harry’s voice was soft as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Where’d you go?"

She blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

His lips quirked into a gentle smile. "Y’ do this thing where you space out, like your mind drifts off somewhere else ‘cause you're thinkin’ too much."

"I do that?" she asked, surprised.

"Mhm," he murmured, his thumb tracing the little furrow in her brow, the touch sending warmth through her. "I like you an awful lot, Bambi. I plan on stickin' around for a long time."

"You do?" Her voice was small, almost disbelieving.

"Yes, I do. And I really like your brothers—they’re a credit to you."

Y/N opened her mouth to deflect, as usual. "Oh, you mean my mom—"

"No," Harry interrupted gently, shaking his head. "I mean you."

Her lips parted in surprise, her eyes misting over. She hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words. Without thinking, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, a kiss filled with the gratitude she couldn't quite express in words.

She was about to pull away, but Harry held her close, his hands gripping her hips as he deepened the kiss. His soft, warm lips made her head spin, and for a brief moment, the world around them disappeared.

That is, until Sammy’s voice rang out from the hallway. "I’m coming in, so you better not be swapping saliva in there!"

Harry broke the kiss with a chuckle, glancing over his shoulder. "Alright, alright, we’re behaving," he teased, winking at Y/N before moving to the sink. "Let me help you," he offered, turning on the faucet to start washing the dishes from dinner.

Y/N watched him for a moment, her heart swelling with warmth. The words he’d spoken earlier echoed in her mind—words that had already begun to feel familiar, but only when they came from him.

. . .

Y/N woke up the following morning, not from the alarm she’d set for 6 a.m., but from the rapid thumping of her heart. Anxiety rippled through her, making her stomach twist with nerves. Today was her first day working at Pleasing, her first day officially under Harry’s employment. She was excited, of course, but that didn’t stop the butterflies in her belly from multiplying.

She stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, taking slow breaths to calm herself. Her phone buzzed softly on the nightstand, and she reached over, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened the message.

Harry: Morning, Bambi 🌞 There’s a car on its way to pick you up. No need to stress, yeah? I’ll be waiting for you at the office. You’re gonna be amazing x

A small smile crept onto her face despite the nerves. Harry’s words were like a warm hug on a cold morning, making her feel just a little bit braver. She couldn’t help but appreciate how he seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear, right when she needed to hear it.

She quickly typed a reply, her fingers still shaky.

Y/N: Thank you. I’m a little nervous but I’ll do my best. See you soon 💕

Y/N got out of bed and went through her morning routine, trying to focus on each task to stop her mind from spiraling into all the things that could go wrong today. She picked out an outfit she hoped said “professional but approachable,” taking extra care to smooth out any creases in her clothes. When she was finally dressed, she checked the time—6:45 a.m.—the car Harry sent should be arriving any minute.

She stepped outside, the cool morning air doing little to ease her racing thoughts. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The street was quiet at this hour, and she couldn’t help but feel like the only person awake in the world.

Just then, a sleek black car pulled up in front of her, the driver rolling down the window with a friendly nod. "Y/N?" he asked, and she nodded in response.

“That’s me,” she said, her voice a little shaky. She climbed into the backseat, clutching her bag on her lap as the driver started the journey to the office. She stared out the window, watching the familiar streets blur by, and tried to give herself a little pep talk.

You can do this. You’re ready. Harry believes in you, so believe in yourself, too.

Her phone buzzed in her hand again, another message from Harry.

Harry: Also going on a coffee run, do you want anything? x

Bambi: Isn’t that my job today? x

Harry: It’s my job to take care of you everyday

Y/N didn’t realize how wide her smile had grown until she caught her reflection in the glassy screen of her phone. A soft blush crept onto her cheeks as she tried to compose herself, glancing out the window to distract from the giddy feeling bubbling inside her. She watched as the quiet suburbs melted into the bustle of the big city, her heart thudding against her ribcage. 

Slowly, the car pulled up outside Pleasing. The building was elegant, with an arched doorway and a clean awning that had the brand's name in bold letters. Through the large glass doors, Y/N could see a glimpse of the bright, stylish interior. Her heart pounded as the car came to a stop, her mouth opening with a desperate plea to leave, to turn back and retreat home where she could hide away—but then she saw Harry, and her words fell away for an entirely different reason.

She’d seen Harry in a suit before, but seeing him in full CEO mode was something else. He wore a flawless black-and-white suit, cufflinks gleaming at his wrists. His eyes were stern, his entire demeanor unshakeable—until he looked her way, and his whole form softened.

“You’re here,” His voice was warm and inviting. She wanted to leap into him and hide herself within him but she wanted to be professional.

She stood in front of him, not wanting to get any closer to her new boss, “Good morning, Mr Styles.”

The corner of Harry’s lips quirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Good morning,” he replied, savoring her formality. He took a step closer, his gaze gentle yet focused. “Ready for today?”

“Y-yes,” She said but it wasn’t all that convincing.

Harry grabbed her hand, “You’ll be just fine Bambi.” He murmured the nickname just for her to hear. 

The warmth of his hand around hers steadied her, but it also set her pulse racing. His fingers intertwined with hers, and he kept their joined hands subtly hidden between them as they walked through the grand entrance and into the lobby. Y/N’s nerves started to quiet, replaced by a growing excitement.

As they stepped into the elevator, Harry’s thumb brushed gently over her knuckles. She looked up at him but his eyes were looking ahead. Her eyes fixated on his sharp jawline and smooth, freshly-shaven face; he looked even more polished, clean-cut and distinctly professional since she’d last seen him.

When they reached his office floor, Harry led her down a sleek corridor and into an airy, open workspace with views of the city skyline. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, and a few team members looked up with welcoming smiles.

Just ahead, a woman in her mid-thirties with shoulder-length auburn hair and an easy smile approached them. Her professional but warm demeanor put Y/N at ease almost instantly. Harry released Y/N’s hand as he greeted her.

“Lindsey, this is Y/N,” he said, glancing between them. “She’s starting with us today. I thought you might help her settle in and get familiar with everything.”

Lindsey extended her hand warmly. “Oh is this-”

Harry’s gaze lingered on her with a slight, unreadable intensity, prompting Lindsey to pause mid-sentence. Then, noticing Y/N, she broke into a bright smile.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you.” She laughed lightly, her eyes flicking to Harry with a teasing glint. “I have to admit, I’m a little curious why anyone would sign up to be his assistant—he can be a real pain most days.” She shot him a playful look. “But don’t worry, just don’t enter his office at midday - he can get real hangry.” 

Y/N giggled and Harry’s eyes brightened at the sound, ““Y/N,” he said, his voice warm, “you’re in very good hands.” He turned to Lindsey. “Make sure she gets a proper introduction to everything, but don’t overwhelm her.”

Lindsey chuckled. “I’ll keep it light for today, boss. We’d be here all day getting into your list of demands everyday.”

Harry rolled his eyes, and with a final look at Y/N, said, “I’ll see you later, then.” His words were simple, but the small smile he gave her was anything but. As he walked away, Y/N felt the anticipation return, wanting him to come back and be the one to show her around. She wasn’t the best with meeting new people. She was shy and nervous and fumbled over her words too often but Harry had great faith in her so she would try her best to do good. 

“Alright, let’s get started,” Lindsey said, gesturing to an open desk area near Harry’s office. “First things first—coffee? I’ll show you the best spot, and then we’ll make our way through the to-do list Harry sent this morning.” 

. . .

Y/N liked Lindsey a lot. 

She was funny and gentle. Whenever Y/N made a mistake—like earlier when she accidentally printed everything in pink instead of black and white—Lindsey would correct her kindly, reminding her that mistakes happen. Y/N wasn’t used to this kind of patience; her old boss would snap or hiss at even the smallest error. Here, it felt nice to breathe a little easier.

Lindsey spoke warmly about her two little boys, whom she cared for while her husband was away with the military. She had once been a stay-at-home mom, but over time, the isolation began to weigh on her; she craved more than just the role of mother and wanted to be out in the world, around people. When she applied to Pleasing, she’d explained her situation to Harry during her interview, and he had offered her flexible hours so she could still make it home to her boys each evening.

Whenever Lindsey mentioned the things Harry had done for her and her family, her voice would grow thick with emotion, and she spoke of him with genuine admiration. Y/N found herself thinking of her own circumstances and the way Harry had taken her under his wing, feeling a warmth for him settle in her chest.

“Okay, Harry’s in a meeting, so we need to bring in tea and coffee,” Lindsey said, heading over to a small rolling cart neatly stocked with cups, a teapot, and coffee supplies.

She guided Y/N through the arrangement, showing her how Harry liked his tea prepared. “He’s particular about the temperature—hot but not scalding,” Lindsey explained with a wink. “Don’t worry you’ll get the hang of things.”

Y/N carefully poured the tea, her hands steadying with each instruction Lindsey offered. They finished preparing the drinks, and Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself as she reached for the cart handle.

“You’ll be fine,” Lindsey reassured her, offering a supportive smile. “Just go in, keep it simple, and make sure everyone has their drinks. You’ll be a natural at this in no time.”

“I’m going in alone?” Y/N’s eyes widened.

“It’s good practice,” Lindsey grins, “Good luck!”

Y/N squared her shoulders and pushed the cart toward the meeting room. The murmurs grew louder as she approached, but her nerves eased slightly upon catching Harry’s eye. His expression softened for a moment before returning to its professional coolness, a small signal just for her.

As she entered, she was met with the sight of a large glass table surrounded by men in sharp suits, all eyes shifting toward her. Taking a breath, she rolled the cart around and placed the cups in front of Harry and the others. Just as she reached for the teapot, a slight tremor ran through her hand, and she felt a sudden rush of panic.

In an instant, she lost her grip. The teapot tipped, sending hot tea spilling across the table and splattering onto a crisp white shirt belonging to one of the men. The room fell silent, and every gaze shifted from her to the angry figure, whose face flushed crimson.

““Watch where you’re going!” he barked, rising from his seat. “Do you even know how to serve properly?”

Y/N’s heart raced, the color draining from her face. Just as she opened her mouth to apologize, a surge of anger rippled through the room.

“Do you think it’s okay to talk to a woman like that?” Harry murmured, his voice laced with malice.

“She stained my shirt! She’s lucky I’m not making her pay for it,” the man continued, and Y/N could see the discomfort on the faces of the other attendees, their expressions telling her they knew he’d crossed a line.

Harry’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them. He reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a checkbook and a fountain pen. With swift strokes, he began to scribble before turning to Y/N. “Y/N, would you mind delivering this to Mr. Smith?”

Y/N nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she accepted the check, its weight feeling both significant and heavy.

Mr. Smith snatched the check from her hands, glancing down at it with a scowl. Written across the page was Harry’s signature alongside a mere fifty dollars. “Your final check—enough to cover the shirt, I assume? I think I saw the same one in the TK Maxx sale rack.”

“Final?” Mr. Smith asked, incredulous.

“Correct,” Harry replied nonchalantly.

Mr. Smith’s face burned bright red. He huffed, rising from his seat and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The room fell silent. “Meeting adjourned,” Harry announced, and everyone flooded out, eager to escape the awkward tension.

Y/N stood in the corner, barely able to look up. Embarrassment washed over her; she wondered if she could do any job right. Her eyes watered as she bit down on her lip to keep from crying.

Suddenly, two polished shoes came into view, and big hands cupped her cheeks, gently forcing her to meet his gaze. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.

She wanted to say yes, to express pride in her efforts and how well she had handled the day, but instead, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shirt. “I feel like I can’t do anything right,” she admitted, her voice muffled.

Harry sighed, his arms encircling her as he rubbed the back of her head soothingly. “You did nothing wrong.”

“You can’t fire people because of me, Harry.”

“Don’t worry about him. We’ve wanted to get rid of him for ages—just a sexist prick. Turns out you’re a pretty good assistant for giving me an excuse to fire someone on the spot,” he chuckled lightly.

Y/N looked up at him, her heart fluttering as his hand held her cheek, his thumb brushing beneath her eye. “These eyes,” he whispered.

A smile broke through her sadness. “I’m sorry for ruining your meeting.”

“Don’t care, Bambi.” He was so much taller than her, nearly a foot difference, so he had to lean down to brush his nose against hers, their lips ghosting against each other. “You actually made it better.”

“I did?” she whispered, her mind suddenly forgetting the man who had yelled at her.

“Mhm,” he hummed, and then, gently, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and lingering, sending a warm flutter through Y/N that chased away the remnants of her earlier embarrassment. She melted into the moment, her worries fading as Harry’s lips brushed against hers. 

“Okay, what the hell happened?” Lindsey barged into the room, causing Y/N to leap away from Harry, her cheeks flushing.

“Wow, Lindsey,” Harry said, rubbing a hand over his mouth, both of them flustered as Lindsey glanced between them. “Try knocking next time, yeah?”

“Since when have I ever needed to knock?” Lindsey shot back, her eyebrows knitting together as she assessed Y/N, whose face was now bright pink.

“Since now,” Harry replied. Clearing his throat, he added, “If you’ll excuse me…” He brushed past her, leaving the tension lingering in the air.

A laugh escaped Y/N’s lips, even as embarrassment tinged her cheeks; it was the first time she’d witnessed him so flustered. Lindsey arched an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her face. “So, are you two like…?”

“No,” Y/N replied, the denial tumbling out a bit too quickly.

Lindsey shot her a knowing look but chose not to press further. “Might want to let him know about that lipstick stain on his upper lip,” she added, rolling the cart out of the room and leaving Y/N feeling distinctly warm and flustered.

. . .

Harry kissed Y/N with the lights off on her front porch after dropping her home. Y/N melted against him, her fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened. She felt a rush of warmth spread through her, the sweet taste of his breath mixing with the fresh night air. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. “Bambi,” He slurred against her lips.”

“Hm?” She hummed, unable to stop herself when she pulled him closer. 

“I was thinking,” He murmured, pulling away but his hands still firmly gripping her waist, “Maybe this weekend y’ could come to my place and stay the night.”

“The night?” She’d never had a sleepover before let alone one at a boys house. 

“Yeah… Would you be okay with that?” 

“Y-Yeah, I think so.”

“Y’ think so?” Harry grinned, “Are y’ sure?”

She smiled, “I’d like that.”

“Well, alright then,” he murmured, leaning down to place one last, soft kiss on her lips. “Goodnight, Bambi.”

“Goodnight, Harry.” Y/N barely suppressed a smile as she watched him walk to his car, a flutter in her chest as he turned back for a final wave.

Before she turned to step into her house, her phone buzzed and a text came through from Harry.

Harry: I think we have to get better at this whole sneaking around thing

Y/N: Tell yourself that, you kissed me first!

Harry: Can’t help it Bambi 

Harry: I’m obsessed with you

. . .

taglist ~~

@ravenclawmarvel @noididnotsignupforthis @comicalivy  @boomitsallie1 @hazzarules @squirreljoe @c3lline0 @harry2121 @lizsogolden @its-his-dimples @tchalametishot @youngpastafanmug @awritingtree @reidsblessing @idontcareforausernamesblog @madstyles3204 @cherrys4suckers @lomlolivia @tenaciousperfectionunknown

[lnfours]

close to you | l.n

summary: chemical override, ultraviolet, you could be mine tonight ; or having a crush is mind boggling, soul crushing and confusing, but also so exciting at the same time.

warnings: inspired by close to you by gracie abrams, friends to lovers (bc it’s my brand), pining, all the feels, reader is childhood best friends with pietra, fluff, and some language here and there

jordans notes: hi everyone! long time no see (😅) i’m slowly getting back into writing, school has been kicking my ass. i don’t think this is my best work, but i really wanted to get something out for you guys since ive been gone so long! i promise there’s more to come than just this! i hope you all are well!! sending you all my love 🤍

masterlist | listen to the playlist

before you met him, you didn’t think about the color green too often. it was one of those colors you didn’t necessarily love or hate, it was just kind of… there.

to you, it was just one of those colors where shades of it were prettier than the actual color itself. or a color you only really liked during the fall. like how, typically, people only liked the color blue during the summer.

that was until you met him.

the boy with those big, beautiful, slightly blue but slightly green, water-colored eyes. now you love the color green. obsessed over it. thought about it every second of every day. it was crazy how a simple opinion could change in a matter of seconds, all because of those stupidly pretty eyes.

You lie awake on your back, staring at the ceiling. surely it wasn’t normal to obsess over someone this much, right? especially over someone you weren’t even sure would ever feel the same.

sure, you had crushes before, and had your fair share of falling quickly and all at once. it wasn’t an unusual feeling to you, no stranger to catching feelings rather quickly.

but this time around, everything was different. everything felt more intense, more mind-boggling and confusing and pulse rising. the feeling so foreign that sometimes you wish you had never met him so you wouldn’t have fallen so hard so sudden, but deep down you were so glad that you had.

it was the little things that made you wonder what it was like to be loved by him. the subtle glances in your direction, the gentle but lingering touches. you had thought you were going crazy, reading too much into things in the beginning. over-analyzing every little thing that made your body light up with excitement.

until pietra confirmed your suspicions.

“he’s totally into you,” she said, leaning closer to your ear as you watched him from across the room, his head tilted back, nose scrunched and eyes half shut as he laughed about something max had said, which was likely something stupid, “like, one hundred percent, down bad, into you.”

you tilted your head at the blonde, “you think so?”

she scoffed, “more like know so,”

“who told you?”

“no one has to tell me anything,” she said, “i can just tell.”

you rolled your eyes at her, “p, i’ve told you a million times, he’s not into me.”

but she was right. he was one hundred percent, undoubtedly, down. fucking. bad.

ever since the moment he met you at that stupid pub with max and his group of friends, all he wanted to do was get to know you. he didn’t want it to seem obvious when he asked max about you, but he knew no matter what he did it was going to seem obvious. just from the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, he was no where near subtle.

he hated to admit it, but he had even done some lowkey instagram stalking through one of his private accounts. he had seen all the pictures of you and pietra, a life long friendship explained to him in front of his own eyes.

and every time his fingers would swipe through your account, all he could think about was how beautiful you were. how your eyes sparkled every time you smiled for the camera, how happy you looked when you genuinely laughed, and how he wished to be the reason behind the gorgeous sound forever.

he wasn’t trying to make it obvious tonight, not wanting to make it well known that he had his eyes on you for a while. but he had lost track at the amount of times you had caught him looking at you, and he swore he had even caught you looking at him first a handful of times.

so when everyone in the house decided that it was the end of the night and started filing through the door, he took it upon himself to make his way over to you. you were talking with pietra, a smile on your face as you giggled about something she had said. the brazilian woman’s eyes landed on him, to which she looked back at you and said something before you turned to look in his direction.

he smiled when your eyes met his, “hey, did you need a ride home?”

your heart threatened to leap out of your chest, “uhm, i was just gonna call an uber, you don’t have to-“

“no, no,” he said, shaking his head, “i insist, really. it’s not a big deal.”

how could you argue with him? those pretty green eyes, that smile, the face. you simply couldn’t. it was impossible. you couldn’t see the look pietra was giving you, but knowing her, you knew it was a look that said ‘go with him’.

and do you did, the cool, crisp autumn air in london suddenly making you wish you had brought a jacket. you had wished you planned for the nightly breeze, wishing you had opted for a long-sleeved shirt for the night instead of the spaghetti strap tank top you had chosen.

as you walked to the car that was parked down the street, he noticed you shivering. he saw the way you hugged yourself, your hair moving with the breeze. his curls danced in the wind and he knew if he was slightly cold, you were definitely freezing.

he tugged off the hoodie before passing it to you, the sound of the doors to the mclaren echoing before he turned to you.

“here,” he said, “it’s a little windy out, i know you’re probably freezing.”

your stomach did backflips as you took the soft black material from his hands, “oh, are you sure? aren’t you cold?”

he sent you a shrug, “i’ll live,”

there was no use arguing with him, so instead you sent him another smile in appreciation before tugging the sweatshirt over your head. it was already warm from hugging his body, and you couldn't help the way the smell of his cologne lingered in the soft material. you had to keep yourself from burying yourself in it, the feeling of being close to him without actually being close to him sending butterflies to your stomach.

the car ride was filled with comfortable silence, music softly playing in the background. he stole occasional looks over at your figure as you looked out the window, the neck of his hoodie pulled up to your face as you watched the street lights pass by. you looked beautiful in the dim light, he couldn’t help himself.

he thought about taking the long way to your house. a simple but effective way to be able to spend more time with you. however, the thought of you being confused and questioning his actions was enough for him to stay straight at the stop light instead of taking a right for the longer way.

he tried not to look disappointed when he reached your house, parking in front of it. he wondered if your roommates were home, if you’d tell them about the fact that he drove you home.

he turned the engine off, unclicking his seatbelt, “i’ll walk you up.”

you nodded, the both of you getting out of the car and walking through the dewy grass up to the wooden door. you fished for your keys in your purse, putting them into the lock before turning to look at him, “thanks for the ride,”

“anytime,” he smiled. he meant it. and you knew he meant it. he’d come get you at anytime of the day, wether it was early in the morning or late at night, he was always going to show up.

you stood there, eyes searching his face. he was so pretty to you, the brown curls that were slowly growing into a mullet to the sparkling eyes that you loved so much. the dimples in his cheeks that appeared whenever he smiled, the slight facial hair he had managed to grow, but your favorite part was the moles and freckles that covered his skin. the ones he had once complained about, but you loved the way they scattered his skin.

you dreamt of kissing each and every single one of them.

“hey, lando! long time no see!”

you both averted your attention, neither of you hearing the door open behind you. in the doorway stood your dark haired roommate, faith.

“hey,” he smiled softly, trying once again to not look disappointed from the way your moment was interrupted.

“we’re having drinks and watching movies if you wanted to join,” she smiled, ignoring the look you were sending her way.

“oh, uhm,” he started, not sure how to answer, “it’s getting kinda late, i dunno-“

“you can crash in y/n’s room, im sure she wouldn’t mind.”

what was that supposed to mean?

you looked over at him, “you don’t have to stay-“

“he’s been gone for weeks, he’s legally obligated,” she said, reaching from the doorway and grabbing both of your arms, “c’mon, liv is making martinis.”

you sighed heavily and he laughed softly at your protest that went unnoticed by her. your other roommate, olivia, stood in the kitchen.

“look who i found!” faith exclaimed excitedly.

“oh, hey guys! just in time,” she smiled, “it’s martini and movie friday!”

lando leaned over to you as the other two talked, “they do this every friday?”

you sighed again, nodding, “unfortunately,” you turned to your roommates, “we’re gonna head up to my room, actually,”

you led lando to the stairs, ignoring the playful teasing from the girls in the kitchen, “oooh!!”

“up to your room, huh?”

you shook your head, opening your bedroom door and letting him in before closing it, “‘m sorry for them, they’re… how do i put this?”

“a lot?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips.

“yeah, we can put it that way.”

he chuckled, sitting down on the bed as you put your things down. he looked around your bedroom, not much had changed since the last time he had been in it. the fairy lights dimly lit up the room, photos littered the walls. the desk that sat in the corner of the room kept your makeup bag and brushes, a mirror sitting in the middle.

he looked at your nightstand, a picture of you, him, max and pietra sitting on the wooden surface. it was a picture from miami, smiles on all of your faces. you stood in the middle, arm wrapped around his middle as you smiled for the camera, his trophy in the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your middle.

“i’m gonna change,” you said, “i might have a pair of your sweatpants somewhere if you wanted to change.”

he nodded, “yeah, that’d be great.”

you turned back to the dresser, opening drawers in search for the pair of sweatpants he leant you one day. the same day he picked you up from the failed date. the one that left you crying outside, swearing up and down that you’d never find love. despite it being in front of you this entire time.

finally finding the black material, you handed them to him, “i meant to give them back, but i just haven’t seen you,”

he shook his head. you could’ve kept them forever and he wouldn’t have minded one bit, “it’s alright,”

you grabbed your pajama bottoms from the foot of the bed, “be right back.”

he changed into the sweatpants while you were gone, still looking around your room. he smiled at the picture of you and your roommates, clearly taken at a party. you wore the prettiest smile he had ever seen, dressed in a black off the shoulder top. it was from the same night he realized he liked you in more than just a friendly way.

the door opening brought him back to reality, his eyes landing on your figure and how you were still wearing the black hoodie he had given you earlier. it brought a small smile to his face.

you noticed his eyes on you, looking down at the black hoodie, “i swear i’ll give it back once i wash it.”

he laughed softly, shaking his head, “it’s okay. it looks better on you anyways.”

you smiled, fighting the heat that was rising your cheeks but it was no use. he joined you on the bed, watching as you flipped through different things on netflix.

“you don’t have to stay, y’know,” you said, looking over at him, “if you have better things to do..”

“i don’t,” he said, turning his head to look your way, “in all honesty, there’s no where else i’d rather be.”

you sucked in a breath, your eyes dancing across his face once again. it was hard for you not to stare, not when he looked so pretty like this. back pressed against your headboard, hair slightly messy, and he looked so cozy. it made you want to wrap yourself around him, lay your head on his chest.

he did the same, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every single feature, every single imperfection that he thought was still perfect. the same ones you’d argue about, but he still always found adorable.

his voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you, “do you ever have something to say but can’t find the words to say it?”

your furrowed your eyebrows, “like?”

he licked his lips, his attention now fixed on his hands as he fiddled with the ring on his middle finger. you never thought he’d be the type to get shy, almost embarrassed as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“like, i dunno,” he mumbled, “i just.. i don’t know how to put it, but ever since the moment we met, i’ve found myself just.. thinking about you. thinking about what it’d be like to cross this weird, thin, little line we’ve drawn. if we both just said ‘fuck it’ and dove head first into whatever uncharted territory we’re tiptoeing around.”

his eyes met yours again as he let out a nervous breath. you hadn’t realized you had been holding yours, shock clearly written on your face which made him shake his head.

“never mind, it’s dumb-“

“lando,”

“- i knew i shouldn’t have listened to what max was going on about-“

you rolled your eyes as he kept blabbering away, talking nonsense. your body moving before your brain could comprehend what you were about to do, only catching up when your hands met his jaw and you were suddenly catching yourself a mere few inches from his face.

it was too late now, no going back.

you pulled his face closer to yours, his blabbering coming to a halt when you pressed your lips to his. his brain short circuited, you pulling away before he had the chance to kiss you back.

“‘m sorry,” you immediately apologized, “i don’t know why i did-“

it was his turn to cut you off now, grabbing your chin and pulling you back to his lips. his thumb traced along your jaw, his pointer finger sitting underneath your chin.

you kissed him back after a second of surprise, letting his free hand reach down to grab your hip, pulling you on top of his lap. your hands threaded through his curls, nails scratching his scalp.

when you both finally pulled away, all you could do was smile. giggles and chuckles echoing through the room as you both sat breathless, his nose bumping yours as he tucked a piece of stray hair away from your face.

“so we’re in agreement then, huh?” he asked.

“isn’t that obvious?” you smiled and he shook his head, letting out another boyish laugh.

“how long have you.. y’know, had feelings for me, i guess?”

“since the minute i saw you,” he confessed, “you were the most beautiful girl in the room, a smile that would make everyone stop and stare. it’s always been you, i’ve just been too scared to tell you.”

you smiled again, heart fluttering in your chest. all the dreams and wishes you spent with him on your mind, it was all finally paying off, “it’s always been you for me, too. i thought i had been way too obvious, but clearly i wasn’t obvious enough.”

“we were both too oblivious,” he said, moving more hair from your face, “but it’s okay, we’re here now.”

you were convinced your smile was never going to be wiped off your face, “kiss me again,”

“with pleasure,” he mumbled, lips finding yours once more as you melted into him.

[mattsfavoritestar]

NEVER BE LIKE YOU, chris sturniolo

synopsis… (based on this ask ) or in which you used to treat chris terribly in highschool, now you’ve graduated and matured but you weren’t the only one who’s changed

warnings… mentions of bullying, rough sex, semi-public sex, degrading, edging, overstimulation, mean!chris, former bully!reader, creampie, perv!chris if you squint, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT B4 YOU TAP IT)

@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3

you used to tell yourself that you would never go for matt and nick’s little brother. yes, you know that they are triplets but chris always seem’d so childish and annoying in your eyes. he used to trail after you like a pet and make stupid flirty comments or compliments.

you thought that chris sturniolo was thee most aggravating person to walk the planet. yet here you were staring at him from across the room. you nudged your friend, “hey when did chris get so cute?” you whispered. your friend shot you a deadpanned expression then rolled her eyes. “after graduation, guess he decided to do the whole glow up thing” she responds.

chris used to be the scrawny kid with messy short hair. now his curls framed his face in a godly way and whenever he moved a certain way, his muscles and veins flexed. you also noticed that when you walked into the house, he didn’t even acknowledge you like he used to.

“why do you care?”

“hm?”

“i said why do you care anyways, didn’t you used to hate him or some shit?”

you shrugged your shoulders. no secret that you used to practically torture the poor boy as if he was some servant or lapdog. chris used to do literally anything if it ment you would reward him even if the gift was as small as allowing him to hold your hand for five seconds. it was laughable at the time the way he acting like a wounded puppy whenever you got mad at him for the slightest thing.

your heart started racing when he looked up and stared dead into your eyes. those blue eyes that you used to not care for now made your body feel heated and achy. you broke contact as you felt your thighs squeeze for some type of relief. “m’gonna go to the bathroom” you mumbled to your friend as you got up.

you looked over yourself in the mirror. you always took pride into your appearance, a habit that stuck since high school. you turned around and opened the door but was shocked when met with chris looking down on his phone.

“uhm, hey” you quietly say causing him to look up at you. a small smirk appeared on his face as he turned his phone off and leans onto the door frame. “hi” he replied. you tried going past him but was pushed back into the bathroom. chris closes the door behind him with the lock without breaking eye contact.

“what are you doing” you say cautiously ask as you look between him and the door. chris shrugs, “just thought i’d talk to you for a sec” he says. as chris walks closer to you, you walk backwards till your back brushes the sink. chris traps you with his hands on either side of you as he looks down with a mischievous smile.

“never thought i’d see that day where little miss royalty would get so nervous around me” he laughs. your breath started to pick up as he leans down closer and closer till your lips brush. you squealed in surprise when chris roughly turns you around so you were leaning on the sink with your back facing him.

you felt him breathing down your neck as his hands lightly trailed down your sides. you let out a sigh and let your head drop back onto his shoulder while your eyes closed. chris starts chuckling then removes his hands. “remember when you used to make me do your homework just so i could sit next to you?” he asks.

you opened you eyes and look at him with a sad expression. “m’sorry for treating you like that back then” you say in a small voice. chris roughly grabs your waist and pushes you off him. you gasped as you felt him bring your hips to meet his growing bulge. “i saw you staring at me earlier” he says, “didn’t know you let yourself go enough to want to fuck a loser” he sneered. you frowned to yourself at the memory.

“be serious for a second chris. i’d never fuck a loser like you” you laughed.

you couldn’t lie, you were a regina george back then. chris was such a sweet guy to you too, he always treated you like a princess even though you already had the royal status at school. you were his number one priority and you took advantage of that. you used him back then. now it was his turn to use you.

you bit your lip to hide the moan as chris grinded your lower half’s together. “chris everyone’s out there” you reminded him. chris laughs, “don’t be loud then. unless you want them to hear you act like a whore” he taunts. your dress was pushed up and your laced underwear was yanked down.

“who knew your clothes could get even more slutty after high school” chris grumbled. you always wore clothes that would be at the brink of the dress code. now that those bullshit rules can’t effect you, you wore even more revealing stuff whenever you didn’t have any important place to go to.

your breath hitched as you felt his thumb swipe the arousal from your folds. you looked up to the mirror infront of you as you saw chris suck his thumb off with a groan erupting from his throat. “waiting so long to taste you” he whispered. he brought his hand back down and inserted two fingers into your dripping cunt as he bit his lip.

you moaned as you locked eyes with him in the mirror then brought your hand up to cover your mouth. chris smiled as he worked his fingers in a rapid pace, not caring for how hard it was for you to keep your voice as low as possible. you rolled your eyes to the back of your head as you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

but chris saw your pleasured expression. he yanked his fingers out of you and slapped your ass. you whined at the lost feeling then whimpered as you felt chris get a tight hold on your hair, yanking your head back. “you don’t deserve to fucking cum” he grunted in your ear.

chris pulled his pants and boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock. a sigh of relief fell from his lips as he stroked himself slightly. he lined himself up to your wet hole then pushed in with slight aggression. a muffled moan left your mouth as you tightened the hand that covered it .

you heard chris breathing heavily and felt his fingers dig into your skin. he moved his hips slightly as if he was testing the waters meanwhile you were using his delay as time to try adjusting to his size. chris was definitely bigger than any other guy you fucked and you were starting to regret not taking his offer for a date two years ago.

as soon as chris decided that he was ready, he rocked his hips slowly then picked up the pace. his thrust were aggressive. harsh. needy. as if he wanted to fuck his anger into you. but also can’t get enough of you. you had one hand trying to balance yourself on the sink counter while the other still covered the moans and whimpers that fell from your lips.

“waiting so fucking long to stretch this pussy” he groans. somehow the aggression grew more rough and since chris was already a bit too big, it felt like he was abusing your cunt. you took your hand off your mouth then reached back to try to push him away. chris laughs as he roughly pins your hand onto the counter.

“are you trying to run from me? thought this is what you wanted” he snarled, “i always give you want you want, don’t i? fucking spoiled brat” his voice was laced with venom. you felt your eyes water but couldn’t tell if it was from pain, pleasure, or regret.

“mhm chris!” you squealed as you felt him brush your cervix. you caught a glimpse of his face, a smile as he bit his lip while watching you through the mirror. “‘member when you called me a whiny bitch? look at you now, crying on my dick” he laughs. you close your eyes as the vivid memory flashed into your brain.

“but you promised” he mumbled. you rolled your eyes, “don’t tell me you’re gonna cry you whiny bitch” you mocked.

“m’sorry! m’so sorry!” you cried. your knuckles grew white as your grip on the counter tightened. the familiar knot in your stomach reappeared, this time even tighter than before. “ch-chris! gonna cum!” you warned. his cock didn’t stop ramming into your now puffy cunt. “yeah? gonna make a mess on me?” he muttered.

you nodded repeatedly as you felt your self at the brink of an orgasm. your vision went blurry with white splotches as you felt yourself release on chris’s cock. “t-to much..” you tried saying in shaken voice. you couldn’t even breathe properly, it felt like he was rearranging your guts. the overstimulation was overwhelming but fuck it felt so good.

it finally dawned on you that this wasn’t for your pleasure but his. chris was actively using you as a sleeve to wet his dick and to get back at you for all those years. you felt him pull you closer as if he was hugging you from the back. you felt his sweaty forehead touching the back of your neck.

“finally get to fill you up- fuck” he moaned as you found yourself coming to your second orgasm. with the rest of your strength, you slammed your hand onto the counter as you felt yourself somewhat peeing on him. you heard chris whimpering as he tightened his hold on you and tried pulling you closer.

a series of curses left his mouth as his load pumped into you with sloppy thrust. you couldn’t help letting out a loud moan as chris gives you one final harsh thrust before pulling out. you felt your knees buckle after chris removes himself from you. you watched through your wet lashes as he fixes his clothes and pockets your underwear.

as chris exits the bathroom, you tried lifting yourself up with the help of the counter. you felt the thick sticky mixture of your fluids and his load dripping out of you. through the crack of the door you heard matt telling chris that everyone else left to get food then asked why you both took so long to which chris replied by saying ‘you needed help in the bathroom��.

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - request angst 3/3 (4?)

"Where is she?"

"She took Orion home so they could both get some rest. They'll be back in the morning." He stares at the wall, picks a small spot, lines it up like he's looking through a scope. He doesn't look at Price, can't acknowledge whatever he'll find there. Pity, concern, worry. "It was an accident, Simon. She knows that, we all do."

"I want to be alone."

"Simon-"

"Captain. We're in a civilian hospital, and I want to be alone." It's meant as a reminder. They're not at work. They're not in the field. There's no rank in this room right now, only friends, and he doesn't want to be around friends right now. He doesn't want to be around anyone except for you, and his son, but you're not here because of something he did. He did this. This is his fault. Again.

Nothing makes sense. He can't even remember it, he's not sure he wants to. The look on your face when he woke up and you were plastered to the wall across the room told him everything. He hurt you. He frightened you. His wife. His everything. Terrorized by a monster, a circle unbroken.

The snake truly does eat itself.

The idea of hurting you boils the acid in his stomach, bringing it up his throat and into his mouth, before it rushes out violently onto the blankets covering his lap.

He doesn't call for a nurse to clean it up. He just sits there, head tipped back against the bed, medicine pulling him under again.

"There's your dad, huh? Is that your dad?" Kyle bounces Orion before placing him in Simon's outstretched arms.

"Hey, little man," he looks him over, cataloguing all the changes, the growth, the way his eyes track Simon's movements, his smile. "You're so big now." His voice cracks. Kyle gives him a nod, and then steps out.

Orion babbles, grunts and coos stringing together as he pushes himself up and down on Simon's chest. It hurts, but he swallows it down in favor of holding his son. "Where's your mama? Is she here?" Why didn't you come? Why didn't you bring him? Even though he knows the answers, the questions still linger.

He wants his family. His whole family. The only thing he's clung to for months and months, his moon and star. The only light in the dark.

His heart aches.

The next time his door opens, it's dark. The nurse slips out, light turned down in his room, and he's startled from his sleep, catching the outline of someone curled up in the recliner to the left of the bed, closer to the window.

It's you. You're asleep, legs kicked over the side, blanket twisted in your lap. You're knocked into the side of the chair, cheek flush with the fabric. You're bone weary, lips parted, hair free.

You're here. You came.

Selfishly, he wants to wake you. Wants to crawl out of this bed to sit at your feet, on his knees, his head in your lap, begging for forgiveness.

He stares at you. Soaking in every quiet second, every expression painted onto your sleeping face, every twitch, every quiver. Hours pass, and his eyes almost close-

when yours open.

He whispers your name.

"Hey." You tuck your knees close. Defensive posture. The thought strikes a burst of pain through him.

“I’m sorry.” He chokes hoarsely, and you nod.

“I know. It’s not… you didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I still did it.”

“Simon…” your sigh is heavy, sad, and he gulps for air, fear freezing through him.

“Will you… can you sit over here?” He nods to chair directly at his bedside, the smaller one, and you swallow. “Please. I can’t see you that well. I want to see you.” He’s so fucking weak for you, it’s almost unbelievable, holding his breath until you’re settled beside him, close enough he can see the tears in your eyes. “I’m so sorry,” his voice cracks. “You don’t know how sorry I am, I’d never, never hurt you. I’d die for you, mama. Without a second thought.”

“I know.” Your voice trembles, and tears roll down your cheeks. He wants to reach for you, pull you into his arms, but he doesn’t know if you’d want him to. If you’ll ever want him to again.

“I love you.” You nod, thumb rolling over the sapphire on your finger.

You don’t say it back, eyes dropping to the floor. “Your doctor says you can come home at the end of the week.” Come home.

“Do you want…” your head snaps up, alarmed.

“Of course I want you to come home. I… I just…” you rub your chest. He wants to melt into this mattress and disappear inside it.

“Are you hurt? Sore?” You shake your head.

“No I just… can’t stop seeing it.” Your head droops, hiding your face, and he holds his breath as your shoulders start to shake. “I’m sorry, I should’ve known better… I k-know well enough when you’re having a nightmare, I messed up, I-.”

“No, honey. You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were there for me, an’ I hurt you. I messed up, not you. Do you understand?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice is tear stained, soaked.

It’s a risk, but he reaches for you. A hand hovering in the air, waiting. Hoping.

You wipe your cheeks, and then fold his fingers into his.

He gives you a squeeze. “It’s not your fault, okay?”

“Okay.”

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

i’m visualizing a fic where reader goes off to fight with their dragon and comes back to jace being furious that she would endanger herself and feelings are revealed…. can you make that happen? xx🙈

Request: Being dragonseed and getting close to jace during the trainings. Maybe she claimed silverwing or vermithor? She goes to battle while he is not there and jace is STRESSED

Request: Jace sneaking out to check on the girl he secretly loves

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Jacaerys took it upon himself to teach and train the dragonseeds, he didn’t think his loyalty to his betrothed would be challenged. Since the beginning of war, his bond with Baela became stronger and they got closer, but as he watched you atop Silverwing, hair in the wind and soaring over the water, he felt things he never felt before. 

Was it the blood of the dragon, although thin, that was calling to him? Or was it the sight of a woman on a large dragon? Jacaerys couldn’t tell. What he knew was that he never felt that way when Baela was riding Moondancer. 

‘’What do you mean, she went to the Riverlands?’’ he shouted at his mother, all manners forgotten.

Rhaenyra met his glare with a calm gaze. ‘’The Greens are marching up to Harrenhal. I sent her to meet their army before they reach the Riverlands.’’

‘’And what of Vhagar?’’ Jacaerys continued, his voice rising as he thought of the beast that had devoured his little brother and his dragon in a single bite. ‘’They know Daemon has taken Harrenhal. Undoubtedly, they brought their biggest dragon to fight him.’’

Rhaenyra hummed thoughtfully. ‘’It is a high possibility, but Silverwing is a large dragon, as you said yourself. Y/N will handle Vhagar if Aemond dares showing up.’’

‘’She is not ready to go to battle.’’ Jacaerys’s fists clenched at his sides, making up the worst scenarios in his mind. ‘’You sent her to her death!’’

‘’I needed to send a dragon. It was Silverwing or Vermithor.’’

‘’Why did you not send Vermithor?’’ 

‘’Because I didn’t want to reveal our biggest asset to the enemy,’’ Rhaenyra said, her brow furrowing as she noticed her son’s agitation. ‘’Why are you so agitated? The dragonseeds were your idea, Jace. We have to send them on the battlefield at some point.’’

The reasons the search for dragonseeds began was to get more dragons on their team, but also to not risk their own in battle by using those with blood 'thinner' than their own as fodder. It was selfish and evil, but losses are inevitable during a war. Better be a stranger than someone you love. 

But now, his plan had backfired.

‘’She’s not just a dragonseed!’’ Jacaerys snapped, his eyes blazing with anger and worry. ‘’She’s—’’ He stopped himself, realizing how much he had revealed in his fury and the implication of what he was about to say. 

Rhaenyra spoke his name softly, finally figuring the nature of her son’s worries, but he turned away, unable to look his mother in the eye. 

⁂

When night came, Jacaerys was unable to sleep, tossing and turning in his bed. All he could think about was you fighting against Vhagar…and losing. 

If you didn’t return from the Riverlands, he would never forgive himself for encouraging you to claim Silverwing. 

Finally, Jacaerys could not take it anymore. He sprung out of his bed, changed into his riding clothes and slipped on a cloak. Quietly, he sneaked out of his quarters and started heading towards the hills where he knew Vermax liked to sleep. Rhaenyra would be furious in the morning when finding out he went to the Riverlands without her approval, but he needed to go to you. 

‘’Lyka (quiet), Vermax,’’ Jacaerys said as he mounted the dragon, not wishing to alert anyone of his nightly adventure. The poor thing was whining and confused why his rider was waking him, but obeyed his command. 

They set out into the night, flying towards the northwest. The wind was cold, biting through Jacaerys' cloak, and the darkness was absolute with no moon to guide their way. The only sound was the rhythmic beating of Vermax's wings, cutting through the icy air.

After what felt like hours of flying blindly in the night, Vermax began to screech, a high-pitched, urgent sound that pierced the silence.

‘’Sagon gīda (be calm), Vermax,’’ Jacaerys commanded, trying to calm his dragon. But Vermax continued screeching, his eyes darting around as if he had seen something human eyes couldn’t. ‘’What is it, Vermax?’’ 

Vermax's screeches grew louder, more insistent, and Jacaerys felt a surge of unease. He strained his eyes, peering into the inky blackness, but saw nothing. He knew that dragons had senses far keener than humans, capable of detecting things long before they were visible.

‘’What do you see?” he muttered, more to himself than to Vermax, as he tried to understand his dragon’s distress.

Vermax couldn't understand the common tongue, but his behavior made it clear that something was wrong. He twisted his head, sniffing the air, and let out another screech, this one more urgent and filled with warning.

Jacaerys suddenly realized what it could mean: Vermax had detected the scent of another dragon. 

His heart pounded in his chest as he tightened his grip on the reins, scanning the dark skies for any sign of movement. The thought of encountering Vhagar in the pitch-black night sent a shiver down his spine. He tightened his grip on the handles, trying to steady both his dragon and himself.

Then, through the darkness, he saw a faint, silvery glimmer. Realization struck him hard. 

‘’Silverwing,’’ he breathed, understanding now what Vermax had sensed. 

Immediately, Jacaerys commanded Vermax to descend. He didn’t know where he was, but he knew that he had not reached the Riverlands yet. If Silverwing was down here, it could mean you were injured. Dragons were known to stay by their rider's side and guard them when they were vulnerable — or dying.

The prince's heart raced as they descended, his mind filled with worry. As soon as Vermax touched ground, he dismounted and scanned the area frantically, searching for you. 

Silverwing screeched loudly when Jacaerys got close, the sound stirring you from your sleep and snapping into alert. You reached for your dagger sheated at your hip, ready to stab whoever would try to get close.

‘’It’s me,’’ Jacaerys quickly said before you could touch him. 

‘’Prince Jacaerys?’’ you said with a frown. ‘’Has Her Grace sent you looking for me?’’

Jacaerys stayed silent. His mother did not care much for you — or any of the dragonseeds. 

The sight of blood on your hands sent his heart into a frenzy. ‘’Are you hurt? What has happened?’’ 

He kneeled beside you, and you let out a small hiss. ‘’I'm not on my deathbed, my Prince,’’ you reassured. ‘’I saw the Green's army marching to the Riverlands. They were definitely surprised to see a new dragon had been claimed by the Blacks. I engaged in battle, burning several of them, but their archers started shooting arrows at us. Silverwing dodged them the best she could, but I received one in my leg…’’ You glanced down where the arrow used to be, blood seeping through your clothes and down your leg. ‘’I know I should not have taken it out, but the pain was too much.’’ 

‘’It’s okay.’’ Jacaerys drew his sword to cut a piece of his cloak to make a bandage for your leg. ‘’All that matters is that you’re alive.’’ He began wrapping the piece of his cloak tightly around your wounded leg, but not so tight it would cause you more pain. ‘’I…I was worried about you.’’ 

You raised an eyebrow at the prince. ‘’Me?’’

He looked at you for a moment, his gaze flickering between your face and your wounded leg. ‘’Don't do that again. Going alone in a battle. What is Vhagar had been there?’’

‘’Why? Because I’m a woman?’’ 

‘’No.’’ Jacaerys shook his head. ‘’No, that’s not— When I didn’t see you at training this morning, I thought you were in the village helping your parents with the sheeps. But Baela informed me that you had been sent to the Riverlands at first light to meet the Greens and all I could think about was Rook’s Rest. What Vhagar did to Luke, and Rhaenys… Gods, if you were the next to fall, I would not handle it.’’

You huffed, not believing him. ‘’Aren’t I just a paw in your mother’s war? I’m not stupid, my Prince. Dragonseeds don’t matter to Her Grace. She just want the power of our dragons.’’ 

‘’I care. I care about you. I care so much about you that I could not sleep without knowing if you were okay. I would not have taken flight in the middle of the night if I didn’t care about you.’’

His words hung in the dark night, the air filled with his confession. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you processed his sudden confession. This conversation felt like forbidden territory. You were a shepherd’s daughter and he was a highborn prince, betrothed to a princess.

‘’You…you shouldn’t say things like that,’’ you finally murmured, averting your eyes from the intensity of his gaze. You tried to hide the fact that his words made you feel things you shouldn’t.

Jacaerys took a deep breath, then slowly reached out to tilt your chin, his fingertips gently tracing over your skin. ‘’I should, because it’s how I feel.’’ He leaned closer. His fingers grazed your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

‘’What of Baela?’’ you managed to ask, your heart beating wildly in your chest, torn between desire and loyalty.

He shook his head, his gaze locked with yours. ‘’I don’t feel strongly for Baela the way I do for you,’’ he confessed.

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard@domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios@lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden @memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08  @mymultiveres  @secretsthathauntus  @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas  @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection @withfireandbl00d @randomstory56 @JudgmentDays-Girl @darylandbethfanforever9 @darylandbethfanforever9 @aegonswife @dakotapaigelove @jays-bullshit @blublock404 @Icefyre19 @paulilvsremus @mfedits @aemondwhoresworld @angrybirdxx @YarianyIrizarry @frutiloopslupin @minedofmoria @aleemendoza2425-blog @quinquinquincy @Rosey1981 @maria-reads-everything @eddieslut69 @barnes70stark @baybaybear @prettyduckling22 @Briefwinnerpersonaturtle @darlingcharling-blog @deliaseastar @Wolfgirl-205 @visenyareads @Nanaldy @Lovelywiseprincess @not-neverland06 @newtmyhusb @mikimimic

All and more taglist:  @kenqki@hawkegfs@gillybear17@black-rose-29@fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3   @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs  @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis  @katherinejess  @rafesgirlstuff   @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity  @Anouknani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21 @Spacexdrago @nhlfs

[multific]

The Wolf and The Rabbit

Cregan Stark x Reader

Summary: The meeting between the wolf and the rabbit never ended well. The wolf would devour the poor rabbit in seconds. And yet, this wolf would never harm the poor bunny.

When your betrothal was announced, it came as a surprise to you.

Cregan Stark is a feared warrior and for a reason.

He was brutal and killed men without a flinch. His sword drowned in the blood of men.

And yet, it was you he chose as his wife.

You have only met him once, when you were very young, both of you were actually. At the time, he called you a scared little bunny.

You didn't pay much attention to him, you only stayed in his father's Kingdom for a couple of days.

Sure, your house might not be as strong as his, but you held a great name. With a proud father and mother, you were a true Lady.

A Lady who was now declared to become the wife of Cregan.

"But Father, why me?" you asked your father who looked so proud.

"The word came from him, he chose you as his future wife."

"But... why?" you asked rather quietly as you looked at your mother.

"It doesn't matter why. He chose you, it is all that matters." your mother replied.

And soon, you were in a carriage, being delivered to him, wearing your finest dress.

You looked out of the small window of the carriage, letting out a long sigh.

"Why me?" was the question in the back of your head at all times.

As the carriage moved down the road, in between the trees, heading further and further North. 

You knew he would be waiting for you. 

He would be standing there. 

You wondered how he looked, how he had been since you had last seen him. 

From the tales, you knew he was fierce and strong. You couldn’t imagine what he looked like. As a young son, he was often told how he would be handsome. 

You couldn’t see it. But you were only a child, now you were a woman. 

Things might have changed. 

You at least hoped they did. 

You let out a sigh as you got closer and closer. The nervousness grew deeper and deeper in your heart as you got closer. 

Soon, you arrived and the door to your carriage opened. The cold immediately hit you. 

It wasn’t the kind of cold when you could see your breath, but you knew what was coming. 

Winter. 

Not so different from your home. 

Home. 

This was your home now. 

This will be your home now. 

You grabbed the servant's hand as you got out and soon, you saw him. 

His hair was shaved on the sides. He was handsome. 

Damn him. 

Even from afar, you could tell, he looked handsome. 

He wore fur over his clothes, keeping him warm as he stood tall and proud. 

He rolled his shoulders back as he saw you. You could see how he let out a sigh. 

“Lord Stark, I am here to announce you, Lady Y/L/N from the House of Y/L/N. As you wished, your bride is presented to you.” 

You bowed your head as you were introduced to him. You didn't look up or anywhere, but soon, you did look up.

Your eyes locked with him for the first time in a long while.

How cold and dark his were.

“How could I forget this Little Bunny.” He said with a smirk for a smile. 

You just kept your eyes on him. 

“My Lord.” You said as you waited for him to lead you into his home.

Lord of Winterfell had a home which looked incredible.

Snow has melted in some places, yet it is still present.

You liked it.

You were left in the hands of a servant who showed you the castle, The Great Keep.

And finally, your room.

"Lord Stark was very adamant about your sleeping arrangements," she said before she opened the door to his chambers. It was his. There were no questions about it in your mind.

The room felt and smelled like a man. It made you very nervous.

You were about to be a wife, his wife. It was up to you to make the Stark name strong and give him children. And that petrified you to no end.

“Why me?” you still asked yourself.

Even when you were left alone to catch a breath, your mind was running.

Soon, you were asked to join him during dinner.

You sat in the chair right next to him, to his right as he sat at the head of the table.

It was a feast, so many different food was placed in front of you, fruits you have never seen.

"I had them make everything as I do not know what you like, as of yet." his voice sounded strangely soft.

It almost didn't fit him.

And yet it did.

His eyes didn't meet yours, he only focused on the food in front of him.

"Thank you." you suddenly said, surprising both of you as you began to eat.

"Wine?" he asked and you nodded as a servant poured you a glass. "It is one which your father sent. Hopefully, it will make you feel more at home."

"Thank you," you said once more as you continued to eat. What felt like the first time in forever, you ate as much as you wished.

"You sure can eat." he suddenly said and you became aware of everything all at once.

"I'm sorry," you said as you pushed your plate and looked at him. "It is just... delicious."

"I'm happy you like it, I didn't mean to make you stop or anything," he said as he pushed the plate back in front of you.

"Oh, okay," you said as you continued to eat. Occasionally you looked at him, only to see that he was avoiding your eyes.

You wondered why he was doing it. You wanted to ask, ask how he ended up choosing you from all the women he could have chosen, he chose you.

Out of all the princesses and ladies, he wanted you. But why?  

You will have to find out one way or another.

But for now, you were taken to get washed even if you insisted that you were more than capable of doing it yourself.

You were quick to learn that Cregan Stark didn’t like the answer no.

And so, as you were bathing you asked one of the servants, “What kind of a man is Lord Stark?”

The servants looked at you with a smile.

“He is a wonderful ruler.” One of them said.

“I wish to know the real answer, not a political one, please.”

“He is a good man. A true warrior, he is always practising his sword, and he is a great leader. He always keeps his word. He will be a good husband.”

She did look as if she was telling the truth. At least that helped you to some degree.

But even if it wasn’t true, you feared that she would have not told you. After all, who would?

You knew the two of you would share a room, maybe you could get to know him more intimately.

At least you hoped to, but as soon as you got into bed, the soft furs embraced you and you almost immediately began to fall asleep.

You woke up the next morning.

His side of the bed was cold, which made you wonder if he even slept.

You were dressed in warm and beautiful fur as you headed out to the garden.

Although winter was almost here, and every tree and flower lost their colour, you still enjoyed the garden very much.

The lady who showed you around kept telling you stories about the garden and soon, you entered the training grounds.

"My Lady, we probably shouldn't be here," she said but you just dismissed her and continued on.

You didn't want these men to think that you were only a decoration, a pretty little thing too afraid of some blood and sweat.

But what you found rather interesting was Cregan. He was in the middle of practising his sword and all you could focus on was his muscles as he moved.

"Princess," he said when he saw you.

You were not a princess, you told him before, but he didn't care.

"What brings you here?" he asked.

"I'm having a walk. L-"

"Let me show you around," he said as he left to quickly put his sword down. You looked at the servant who had been walking with you, she simply bowed and left without another word.

You stood there as the men kept staring at you. You tried to softly smile at them as they kept murmuring between one another.

You knew those looks too well.

It made you so uncomfortable.

Finally, Cregan arrived back and you two quickly left the training grounds as he guided you back to his home.

"Do you believe in soulmates, Princess?" he suddenly asked and you looked at him in shock.

"Soulmates?"

"When I was a young pup, my mother told me a story. She said that every person is born as a half and it is up to them to find their other half. You see, she said in the beginning, men and women were one, but we angered the Gods and they separated the whole into two. It is said all of us a doomed to find our other half. And many of us don't while others do."

"I do remember my mother told me the same story."

"Then you must understand my feelings. When I first saw you. We were young and I didn't know back then what my feelings meant. However, now I do. We were meant to be. We are soulmates."

"You must be joking, Sir Stark. How can you believe that?"

"I believe it because I feel it. Do you not?"

"I-" You didn't want to say no, because truth be told, you never actually thought about it. But if you were honest with yourself, you did feel a certain pull towards him. "I'm not sure. Is this why you chose me as your bride?"

"Who else could I choose but you?" weirdly, you understood him, you should have thought he was crazy.

And yet you didn’t.

In your heart, this all felt so right.

“I used to watch you, Princess. Even as a young boy, I knew, there was something special between us. I asked for your hand in marriage because of this connection which I believe in. Do you also feel it?" he looked so hopeful.

His eyes shone as he took a step closer and held both of your hands in his.

"I asked your father for your hand but now, I ask you, Princess. Will you marry me?" you took a deep breath.

"You say such sweet things. Talking about destiny and love, Lord Stark, but how do I know you are truthful? How do I know your words are more than a deception to get closer to my family?"

"I had a feeling you would fear as such. It is why I tried to best my home with the things you like, to properly welcome you. Since I cannot share my feelings with you. I had a new library put in, since a garden in this weather would not hold."

"I will be your wife, Lord." you suddenly said. "Not because of your library or garden, but I do feel the same you claim to. And I'm tired of pretending that I don't. Ever since we were children, I never forgot about you. Even if it was so long ago." you looked into his eyes and they shined with happiness.

"My Love, I promise you will not regret being open about this. I plan on keeping you safe and happy. And tomorrow, after our wedding, I will give you an eternity filled with joy and love."

You believed him, you really did, after all he sounded extremely sincere.

You placed your hands on his chest as he pulled you in for a hug.

You knew this was the beginning of your forever with him.

---

The wedding went well. Suspiciously well.

You expected some kind of disaster.

But nothing.

You two were wed, and celebrated along with the guests.

Your parents were proud of you, you could see it in their eyes, but they also told you multiple times.

You danced, drank and had an amazing time at your wedding.

It was the very first time your husband kissed you and it felt as if everything just fell into place.

As if all of your hidden feelings came to the surface.

Then, years passed.

You heard of a war coming and you feared the worst.

You were with your first child when the news about the Dance of the Dragons came to Winterfell.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon came to ask your husband for his help during the war.

Of course, Cregan promised the Prince his men and sword.

"What bothers you, My Love?" he asked the same night, in the dark of your chambers as he sat on the bed while you stared at the fire.

"I fear my child will grow up without a father."

"I know how much you hate war, My Queen, but-"

"No buts Cregan, I understand why war is coming and I understand why you choose to partake."

"Then you must understand, I am doing it for our child and their future." he stood up and knelt on the floor in front of you. "I promise you, I will be back before our son is born."

"Or daughter." he laughed a little.

"Or little princess. You are right."

You put your hand on his cheek, running your thumb along his cheekbone.

"I love you, My Wolf."

"And I love you, My Wife." he moved his head and kissed your palm before he picked you up and carried you to your bed.

It might have been a simple story. A simple love story.

But it was yours and you knew it was special.

With a strong and dedicated husband, who would go to war for the future of your child and you.

Who trained a dozen wolves to protect you, who always made sure to not only tell you that he loved you but prove it to you in any and all ways that he could.

House of the Dragon Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[starkeyisthelastname]

smut with dealer rafe 😩😩😩

“Can I help you princess?” He asked nonchalantly as you slowly walked up to the couch, hands resting behind your back as he glanced up from counting the stack of cash in his hand. His blue eyes pierced into you, glancing over the small dress you wore before letting out a soft laugh. “I know you don’t do coke.” His tone amused. Rafe Cameron was his name or so that is what your friend had told you. She had warned you that he was an asshole, but gave the best deal on weed if you wanted some that bad.

“No- I don’t.” You told him quietly. “I need weed and I heard that you have some.” You watched as he stopped counting the money, wrapping a rubber band around it before leaning back against the couch on the upper balcony of the mansion.

“I do.” He said his voice in a low rasp.

You swallowed hard, watching his muscles flex as he stretched his arms against the back of his head. You bounced on your little heels, biting your lower lip as you waited for him to tell you how much it was. He was rather intimidating but gorgeous to look at. Buzzed hair, a strong jawline and stunning blue eyes that were staring into you.

“How much?” You finally asked him, opening your little Gucci purse. The money was between your fingers, when you felt a ringed hand pull you closer.

“I don’t want that shit. I want something else.” He told you, his other hand coming out from behind his head to rest on your hip. You felt the goosebumps rise on your smooth skin making you shiver as his fingertips traced over your flesh. “I wanna put my dick inside you. You are fucking the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You really didn’t know how to react, no man ever have telling you this before. The embarrassing thing was is that you felt your cunt pulse with want. This man quietly possibly having the sexiest voice you’ve ever heard. “I- I don’t know.” You whispered, the party below still going on. While it was dark up here, you didn’t know if anyone else wanting drugs would come up here.

Rafe removed his hand, grabbing his phone off the table. His thumb moved quickly, before setting the device back down. “Don’t worry about anyone. This is my fucking place.” He reassured you, his hand reaching for you again. “I got something that might change your mind.”

He pulled out a blunt, lighting it and taking a long hit as he pulled you down to sit next to him. Your eyes watched as he held it in his mouth, his hand working down towards button of his pants where he reached into his boxers. Your eyes widened as you saw his cock and just how big it was.

“Come here.” He rasped out.

Dress lifted up and lace panties to the side, you sunk down onto him. The way you were immediately filled up made you let out a moan, gripping his strong shoulders for support. “Oh fuck-you are big.” You said, throat tight as you didn’t even have words for how good it felt.

“Shit..” His voice hoarse as your pussy wrapped around him. “You can fucking take it.”

He placed the blunt up to your lips which you inhaled the best you could while gently rocking back and forth on his cock. The man was huge and impatient apparently as he gripped your ass roughly. You squeaked out a moan when his cock jackhammered into you, piercing your cervix with each thrust. “Fuck- fuck.” You whimpered, becoming limp against his strong frame as he made you take it.

“Shit- princess.” Rafe grits out, your cunt squeezing the fuck out of him. “This slutty pussy taking my big dick like a good girl. All because you are feenin for some weed. Fucking pathetic.” He spat at you while one hand came to your throat.