#you know the Eagles deserved it last year | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roosterforme · 1 year ago

Text

Batting Practice Part 18 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Tee ball season is almost over, and the Tiny Eagles are still undefeated. You are starting to feel bolder in your personal life, like you are ready to claim everything you are entitled to. And Bradley is subtly letting you know he's along for more than just the ride.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, angst and swearing

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

"Only two more weeks of tee ball left," Molly murmured as she sipped her coffee next to you on the bleachers.

You paused to think about that. It was only two months ago that you met Bradley, and a lot had changed since you caught yourself stuttering in his presence that first day. After he brought you flowers and lunch to work on Wednesday, he'd met you at your house that night. One thing led to another, and now you knew Bradley loved being called Lieutenant Bradshaw in bed.

"Two more weeks," you agreed. You'd be sad when tee ball ended, but Bradley had been telling you for the past week since the Phillies game that he'd work on some skills with Everett during the summer.

"Go Ev!" Molly shouted when he hit the ball really hard and scored a run against the Tiny Robins. It was Crazy Socks day, and Everett had talked you into ordering him a pair from the Phillies website. You had a second pair stashed away for Bradley's birthday, which you found out from Bob was a week after Everett's.

You clapped along with your sister as you watched Everett run the bases in his red and white striped socks, but your mind was wandering elsewhere.

"You know what you said about Danny last time we talked about him?" you asked, and Molly scoffed.

"You mean how I called him an incompetent man-child? Or how I told you he doesn't deserve to lick the bottoms of your shoes?"

"Neither," you replied, smiling as both Bradley and Bob waved in your direction at the same time. You waved your fingers at Bradley and smiled. "I'm actually talking about child support. And the fact that he never pays it."

"Ohhhh, you wanna have that conversation now?" Molly asked, giving you a bland look. "Ev is almost seven years old."

"Yeah," you replied softly.

You could see the fire in Molly's eyes, but she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You've paid for everything. Take him to court. Seriously. Please, take him to court. I would love nothing more than to help you pay for it. Who's your lawyer? I'll send them a check today."

"I don't need your money," you told her firmly for the hundredth time. But now you were finally feeling like you wanted to do something about this. Why had you been okay with letting Danny get away with so much shit before? Everett deserved the whole world, and you were going to try to give it to him. "I'm going to give him one more chance to either be more involved with Ev or start paying for support."

Molly set her empty cup down and said, "Look at me." You met her eyes, and she looked much more serious than she usually did, which gave you a chill. "What are you going to do when Danny won't do either of those things?"

You pressed your lips together to keep the tingling sensation of tears out of your eyes and nose. "I'm going to stop being a doormat."

Molly kissed your cheek and pulled you against her side just as the game was ending.

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

"Still undefeated!" Everett cheered as Bradley carried him on his shoulders up to the parking lot after the game against the Tiny Robins ended in a victory for the Tiny Eagles.

"Hey, Coach Bob," Bradley called, and Bob turned around, still holding Molly's hand. "You better start writing your speech for when you win Coach of the Year. The team is undefeated with two games left!"

"You'll have to give a speech, too," Bob said as he adjusted his glasses. "The award goes to both coaches, not just one."

"Undefeated! Undefeated!" Everett chanted. You were walking next to Bradley shaking your head and smiling.

Bradley looked at you as he said, "Ev is the best on the team, Kitten. He's really good." Everett continued to chant as Bradley added, "I'm going to plan out the whole summer with visits to the batting cages, pitching in the park, and learning more about all of the different positions. He'll be ready for baseball next spring. No more tee ball." Bradley couldn't remember being this excited about baseball since he was a kid trying out for his first team.

"He's really that good at it?" you asked. "Thank goodness I signed him up for tee ball."

"Yeah," Bradley agreed, "for more than one reason."

You opened the back door to your car, and Bradley deposited Everett into his booster seat at the same time that Molly climbed in through the other door and tried to buckle herself into the seat. Bradley chuckled while Everett practically screeched with laughter, and then you wrapped your arms around his waist.

"I'm going to buy tickets for the Pittsburgh Pirates game on Everett's birthday," you told him. "Molly and Bob are coming, too."

Bob perked up when he heard his name. "No, Molly and I are going to buy all the tickets. For his birthday present."

"I thought I'd get them for everyone," Bradley said with a frown. "My treat, again."

"I already bought them!" Molly shouted from inside the car as Everett tickled her until she was wheezing.

"She's so annoying," you said, resting your head against Bradley's chest. "She wants me to save my money for my lawyer."

Bradley jerked his head back and coaxed you to look up at him. "A lawyer for what?"

"Don't worry about it," you whispered before you returned to snuggling against him.

But he wanted to know what was wrong. "Are you okay? Is Ev? Is this about Danny? What can I do?"

"We're okay, Bradley."

"Kitten. You can talk to me about it."

"I know," you replied, squeezing him tighter. "We're okay for now."

"Well, that's settled then," Molly said as she climbed out of the car with her clothes all dishevelled. "Everett defeated me in the tickle fight, so I owe him a movie. I'll pick him up tomorrow after lunch."

You looked up at Bradley with a smirk on your face. "Any chance you're free for a little bit tomorrow after lunch?"

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

Later that night, you called Danny after sending him texts throughout the day telling him you needed to talk to him.

You were happy you had waited until Everett was in bed to make the call, because as soon as Danny answered with a bark of, "Yes?" you felt anxious.

"Danny," you replied, gripping the edge of the counter so you wouldn't lose your resolve. "Hi."

"What do you need? I'm trying to work."

You squeezed the counter harder and took a deep breath. "Let me know when you have time to spend a day with Everett. I think you need to make that more of a priority."

You were met with silence.

"Danny?"

"I'm here. You know I don't have time for this."

You pressed your lips together and held back your tears. "He is your son, Danny. You need to make time for him."

More silence spread out before you. Honestly, you wanted to start screaming into the phone, but you knew you shouldn't. Nobody could upset you with just a small handful of words the way your ex husband could.

When you got no response, you took a deep breath and said, "If you're not going to give him some of your time, then you need to start making up for it by paying us child support."

"Child support?" he asked with a laugh. "You know I don't have a steady income like you do."

You took a deep breath. "I understand that, but providing for Everett shouldn't solely land on my shoulders here, Danny."

"Listen," he replied smoothly. "I have a huge gallery event coming up next month. I'll probably have some more spending money then."

He was trying to manipulate you the way he always had. You'd spent years listening to him try to validate his excuses, and somehow he always got you to agree with him. You didn't need to fall into these traps any longer. Not when you had Molly in your corner. Not when you knew Bradley cared about Everett's happiness.

"Taking care of your son doesn't fall under the same category as extraspending money." You said it before you gave yourself a chance to process your words, and somehow you felt a little stronger. "So then I guess he can come spend a day with you instead?"

"Fine," Danny snapped immediately. "But I'll probably be working, so he's going to have to play on his iPad or something."

His iPad that you paid for. "Sure," you agreed, knowing this was probably too good to be true. "He's going to love to see you no matter what. So how does next Sunday sound?"

And then you ended the call feeling better than you ever had after a conversation with Danny. You poured yourself a glass of wine and carried it up to your bathroom. You filled your tub while you removed your makeup, and then you sank down into a delicious bubble bath.

You texted Molly about your conversation, and she wrote back saying SLAY YOU QUEEEEEN BITCH. DO NOT FUCK WITH MY SISTER.

You were still laughing when Bradley texted to ask what you were up to. He had gone out to that aviator hangout bar with his friends, so of course it made you feel even giddier that he was texting you while he was there.

When you told him you were in the bath he wrote back while you sipped your wine.

Bradley Bradshaw: Pics or it didn't happen

You snorted into your wine glass and took some strategically posed selfies. Finally you took a good one where the swell of your breasts was pronounced above the bubbles, and your knee was peeking above the water next to your glass. You sent it to him, and you did not have to wait long for a response.

Bradley Bradshaw: Kitten, please baby, you're teasing me. I can only take so much.

You laughed and sent him a second photo where he could see your nipples.

Bradley Bradshaw: You are so fucking hot. And now my dick is hard. In the middle of a game of pool.

You sent teasing texts back and forth while you finished your wine, and he reminded you that he'd be there tomorrow afternoon. And then he sent you a list of all the dirty little things he wanted to do to you. You dreamed about his mouth and his mustache all night long.

And the next day, as soon as Molly picked Everett up to take him to see the movie, you ran up the stairs, two at a time and dashed into your room. You dug around in the bottom drawer of your dresser and pulled out everything you needed. Bradley would be here in just a few minutes, and you'd been wet and worked up for him since last night.

You shimmied into the tight black bodysuit and fastened the choker around your neck before securing the ear headband in place as well. Then you found some sheer black socks that went up over your knees and added them to your Kitten outfit. When you looked in the mirror, you squealed with delight. You turned and checked yourself from different angles. Not bad. Not bad at all.

You were thinking about how Bradley barely even got a chance to touch you the last time you wore this kitten costume that day at tee ball. You were thinking about how you bought this outfit just for him in the first place. When you heard the Bronco pull into your driveway, you were practically squeezing your legs together to keep from moaning.

When you made it to the bottom step, you heard Bradley's key in the door, and somehow that made you even hotter. You were afraid you were going to jump on him, so you kept your hand wrapped around the bannister as he opened your front door.

"Hi, Coach," you said, your voice laced with need as you waved your fingers at him.

"Oh, god." His groan was so deep and loud, you clenched around nothing as he blindly slammed and locked the door. He let his keys, wallet and hat fall right to the floor as you whimpered.

"Coach." Your voice quivered as he approached you slowly. "Bradley."

You almost matched up to his height as you were still standing on the bottom step. He was close to you now, licking his lips and breathing faster. He let his knuckles trail slowly up and down over your bodysuit between your breasts, and soon you were panting for him.

His grin was smug as he asked you, "Did you wear this for me?"

You nodded your head as he stroked your hard nipples through the thin fabric. "Just for you, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

And then his head tipped back as he groaned, and you felt so powerful. You guided his hand down your belly and between your legs, and he met your eyes again. "You're already wet."

"I've been wet since we were texting last night," you admitted. And then you were draped over his shoulder with his big hand on your butt while he hauled you back upstairs.

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

Bradley had been thinking about you in your Kitten costume for weeks, but he hadn't been expecting you to be wearing it today. It was even filthier looking this time, as you paired it with black socks that hugged your thighs instead of your jeans. You skipped the whiskers, but you were wearing your choker. Your collar.

As he took you up to your bed, you were whimpering his name as he stroked his fingers along your ass and your thighs. You were soaking wet. He could feel it when he dug his hand between your legs to tease you as he reached your bedroom.

When he set you down, you crawled across the bed, showing off your ass for him before you settled with your back against the pillows. Bradley was tearing his shoes off followed by his clothing as he watched you run your hands over your bodysuit, squeezing your tits.

"Do you have any idea what you look like right now?" he asked, crawling across the bed to get to you.

"A Kitten?" you asked softly, fingers skimming over your taut nipples.

"My Kitten," he growled. "You look like you're mine. My own personal Kitten with a wet pussy and filthy red lips." He kissed you hard, pushing your head back against the pillow while he ran his fingers along the strip of fabric that was barely covering your slit.

When you moaned into his mouth, he released your lips in favor of running his nose and tongue along that sinful red choker on your neck.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, sir," you whined, and his cock ached with need. "Please."

He was sucking on all of your exposed skin, tasting every inch. You were grinding up against his hand as he palmed your core through your bodysuit. "I'll take care of you," he promised, kissing your choker and your necklace chain at the same time. "You keep your claws tucked away like a good girl, and I'll take such good care of you."

Then he released the snaps between your legs that were keeping you concealed, and the bodysuit was open. You rubbed yourself against his knuckles, and his fingers slid right through your slick slit. You shook your head against the pillow, and your headband with the ears went a little crooked.

"I am so turned on," you gasped. "I don't think I have ever been this turned on before."

You were whining for him and rubbing your stocking covered leg along his cock. But your eyes were still alert, and he wanted them glazed and fucked out.

"I'm gonna eat your pussy," he told you, nibbling your nipples through the fabric as you gasped in agreement. "But I'm not going to stop until I'm ready to. Does that sound okay?"

"Yes sir, Coach Bradley, sir!"

"Kitten, look at me," he said, still stroking your clit softly with his knuckle. "That means I decide when you're done."

"Yes!"

And then he put his mouth on your pussy, and it was exquisite. Just like last time. But maybe even better, because he was going to make you lose your mind for him. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and spread you open wide, kissing your hole as he buried his nose in your wetness.

He started off slow, teasing and licking, and then your fingers were in his hair. Your little gasps and words of encouragement made him smile, but as soon as he took your clit between his lips, you got loud. Really loud. Bradley was delighted that you could be as loud as you wanted to, because he was addicted to the feel of your smooth pearl, your perfect clit under his tongue.

"Bradley!"

You were thrusting up against his face, and he dipped his tongue inside you as your wetness coated his chin. He loved this. He loved eating pussy. He knew he was good at it. But you were too perfect. Everything he liked. Everything he wanted. He needed you. He released your left leg and shoved two rough fingers inside you as he eased himself up your body to kiss those pretty red lips.

"You taste so fucking good. Like a damn kitten in heat," he told you as you ran your tongue along his chin. You kitten licked his face and whimpered while he finger fucked you harder. Your hands wound tight up in his hair were a little painful, but it just made him go harder.

Your eyes were already starting to drift closed and he kissed you, smiling against your mouth. "Remember. You're done when I say you're done."

His words made you keen, and he could feel you starting to squeeze his fingers as he put his mouth back on your clit and sucked gently. That first orgasm came screaming out of you as your hips bucked and shook against the mattress. But Bradley was already working on the next one as you gasped his name over and over again.

With his tongue moving in languid strokes as you started to calm down, Bradley managed to coax you close to the edge again. This time you released his hair in favor of wrapping your hands in your pillowcase.

"What the fuck," you gasped, gaping at him and meeting his eyes as you rode his tongue to another orgasm. Your forehead was scrunched up in disbelief as you gasped, sounding scandalized that he did it twice.

But he wasn't done yet. He ground his cock down into your bedding, bucking for some relief against the delicious show that all of his senses were being treated to. Because now you looked truly exhausted, and your fingers were unable to get purchase in his hair. He kissed and nibbled on your inner thigh as he ran his calloused fingertips over your sensitive, overworked clit until you were whining softly.

"It's okay, Kitten. I love you," Bradley promised, and you nodded wordlessly. And sure enough, after several more minutes, you hiccuped a few times as you came again for him. Your pussy softly pulsing around his middle finger as you gasped had him palming his cock.

He was about to cum. Quickly, he positioned himself so he was on his knees with your left thigh between his legs. He never removed his middle finger from inside you while he stroked himself a half a dozen times. And then he was spurting his cum all over your pussy and your belly and your bodysuit.

You didn't even seem to know what was going on as you shook your head against the pillow and wiped at your tears.

"You okay?" he asked softly, and he smiled. Because your eyes were glazed, your face looked fucked out, and your body was limp, connected to his by his one finger inside you. "God, you're fucking glorious."

A soft laugh escaped your lips while Bradley stroked your cheek with his thumb, and you nuzzled against him like a kitten.

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

You had your arms draped lazily around Bradley's neck as he showered with you. For a split second, he had been nervous that he might have ruined your bodysuit when he came, but you assured him you could always buy another one. Honestly, you thought the splashes of his white cum on your skin and the dark fabric looked sinfully good.

"You gonna wear that outfit again for me?" he asked, running his fingers along the little paw print charm he got you where it rested next to your collarbone.

"Do you really need me to?" you challenged. "You just took a bunch of photos of me half wearing it with your cum all over me. Shouldn't that be enough?"

He kissed you, gently pulling your bottom lip between his before he said, "No way. Those are for when I'm deployed. I'm gonna want the real thing again and again."

You felt a jolt of reality. "Do you know when you're getting deployed again? Do I need to start preparing myself to miss you?"

"No," he murmured, kissing along your neck as the spray from the shower calmed you. "When I find out, you'll be the first to know, Kitten. And I must admit," he added, pausing on a deep inhale that left you with bated breath, "I do love the idea of being missed. By you. And Ev."

You didn't know what to say as you snuggled up against him for a few minutes before you eventually turned off the water. You'd been in a relationship with him for a week. One week. And you already daydreamed about when he'd move in with you. You were already thinking about where all of his stuff would fit in your house. But it was too soon. And you didn't know if he'd want to permanently be here at all.

But you did say, "Everett and I already miss you when we're not with you," and he smiled.

"Speaking of Ev," he said, drying off his legs. "It's getting late. Do you want me to be here when they get back?"

You only had to consider that for a beat. "Yeah."

Bradley met your eyes as he pulled his underwear on. "Can I help him with his homework? Or do something else to make things easier for you?"

In that moment, you wanted to tell him everything that had happened on the phone with Danny. You wanted to tell him that you and Molly had talked about a lawyer. But all you said was, "I love you."

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

Kitten dressing as the kitten again. Kitten making demands of Danny. Kitten getting what she deserves from Coach! Love to see it. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 19

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

905 notes · View notes

sadnymi · 7 months ago

Text

「 ✦ The Alchemy.✦ 」

[Quidditch player Lorenzo Berkshire× famous!reader][ttpdm]

Summary:Lorenzo and Y/N shared a mischievous history during their Hogwarts days, often causing accidents and playing pranks. Years later, they crossed paths again as the most renowned figures in the wizarding world, sparking intriguing developments.

Warnings:fluff, toxic past relationship x smut.

Words:6k.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯.

The Daily Prophet's Patronus Parchment magazine:

Sparks Fly in Paris? Y/N Y/L/N Dines with Quidditch Star Lorenzo Berkshire!: Hogwarts Reunion or Something More?

Paris, France -Love was in the air in the City of Lights last night! Our very own golden girl, Y/N L/N, was spotted enjoying a cozy dinner with none other than Quidditch heartthrob Lorenzo Berkshire at a quaint Parisian bistro.

Fans were quick to recognize that Y/N and Lorenzo were Hogwarts classmates, though their paths haven't crossed publicly since their school days. But based on the lively conversation and lingering smiles captured by our eagle-eyed correspondent, their Parisian rendezvous seemed far from a casual catch-up.

Y/N, a multi-talented powerhouse, needs no introduction. From captivating social media influencer, fashion icon and model to brilliant researcher and entrepreneur, she's an inspiration to witches and wizards worldwide. The Ministry of Magic even considers her one of the brightest minds in our time! Y/N with no doubt is the it girl of our generation

Lorenzo Berkshire, has stolen hearts on the Quidditch pitch with his dazzling plays and undeniable charm. As a Chaser for the The Montrose Magpies , he's considered one of the most exciting players of his generation. known as the "most lovable boy in the wizarding world," and it seems he might have just charmed his way into our girl Y/N's company.

A Match Made in Magical Heaven? Could this Parisian rendezvous be the start of something more? The thought of these two brilliant minds and captivating personalities joining forces has the magical world abuzz. Imagine the power couple they would be!

Neither Y/N nor Lorenzo have commented on the nature of their meeting. Were they reminiscing about Hogwarts days, or is there a spark of something new brewing? Only time will tell!

One thing's for sure:This unexpected reunion has ignited the flames of curiosity. We'll be keeping our eyes peeled for any further developments!

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

when the magazine mentioned a special guest for the next photoshoot, but I wasn't fazed. They usually paired me with actors or other celebrities. Just when the office door swung open, revealing Lorenzo Berkshire himself standing beside the manager. My smile widened involuntarily, mirroring his own surprised delight.

"Y/L/N," he greeted with a charming smile, taking a seat across from me.

"Berkshire," I replied, a wave of nostalgia washing over me. We weren't exactly close in school, but we had a shared history – one I wouldn't soon forget. The memory of him accidentally ruining my dress and land spectacularly on top of me, readily came to mind. And who could forget the time I broke his Quidditch broom before that important match?

"Congratulations," I blurted out, remembering his recent victory. He'd just clinched the European League trophy, the most coveted prize in the magical sporting world, along with the title of Best Player in the League. World Champion and the best of his generation – it was a well-deserved title.

"Thanks," he smile, "and congratulations on… everything, honestly. Is there anything you can't do?"

My laugh echoed through the room."Probably stopping you from ruining my Yule Ball dress and dance," I teased.

"Ouch, low blow," he chuckled.

Our manager chimed in then, "Since you two already know each other, and are practically the biggest names in the wizarding world right now, we thought it would be perfect to have you do a double photoshoot together!"

Lorenzo and I exchanged glances, then simultaneously nodded. "Sure, no problem with me," I said.

"Me too, I'd actually really love that," he added, his voice surprisingly husky. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks as I stole another glance at him.

"Great! I'll iron out the details with your managers," she beamed, launching into a flurry of logistical planning. My attention, however, had become somewhat… divided. I found myself stealing glances at Lorenzo, a goofy grin plastered on my face. There was something about seeing him after all this time that made my heart skip a beat. Every time I caught his eye, he'd smile back.

As the meeting wrapped up, Lorenzo held the door open for me with a gentlemanly gesture. "Thanks," I smiled, a warmth spreading through me.

"Do you have anything to do now?" he asked.

I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips. "Not really. I have the day off."

"Great, so can I get you a coffee?" His suggestion was simple, yet the way he asked, made my heart skip a beat.

"Yes, sure," I agreed readily.

Paris, with its timeless charm, never failed to enchant me. Yet, on this particular day, the city's magic paled in comparison to the warmth radiating from Lorenzo. He led me into a quaint little coffee shop, a hidden gem tucked away from the bustling crowds. The cozy atmosphere instantly calmed my nerves.

Fame – a double-edged sword. Places like this were a luxury sometimes.

Sipping on our steaming hot chocolates, we fell into conversation easily. I congratulated him on his recent victory, the European League trophy a much-deserved achievement.

"Being on the best team now, that's huge," I said, genuinely impressed. "I mean what I want to say is you really did it, Lorenzo." The pride in my voice surprised even me.

He met my gaze for a moment, his smile softening. "You too," he replied. "I might tease my teammates about knowing you from school, but honestly?"

"No way" i smiled.

He chuckled. "Almost half of them follow your Instagram like lovesick teenagers."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Seriously?"

"Absolutely. You're kind of a big deal, Y/N."

"Well, you're not doing so bad yourself, Mr. Champion," I countered, playfully returning the compliment. "you're quite the charmer yourself, Half the girls I work with seem to have graced the arms of a Quidditch star at some point you have a thing for models?”

His hand reaching up to brush something off my cheek. My heart skipped a beat as his fingers grazed my skin. "Just a little something..."

He held up a chocolate smudge from my hot chocolate. Relief washed over me, quickly replaced by a warmth that spread through my cheeks.

"Just a coincidence," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"We call that a 'type,'" I teased, trying to mask my fluster.

He chuckled again. "What about that actor? What was his name… Aaron?"

My smile faltered slightly. "Antonio," I corrected, a touch of bitterness creeping into my voice.

Lorenzo seemed to pick up on the shift. "Right," he said, his gaze searching mine. "He was a jerk, by the way. His movies sucks. Glad you broke up with him. You were way out of his league."

His words warmed me more than the hot chocolate. There was something about Lorenzo, something genuine and kind, that made my heart flutter in a way it never had before.

"Yeah, he was," I admitted, a genuine smile returning to my face. "Tell him that," I added playfully, "because he cheated."

Lorenzo's smile dropped. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice sincere. "That's messed up."

"It's okay, truly," I reassured him. "I'm way over it."

The conversation flowed effortlessly from there. We reminisced about Hogwarts, teased each other about past crushes, and shared stories from our careers. Time seemed to slip away unnoticed, the afternoon sun dipping below the horizon painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

"Let me drive you back to your hotel," Lorenzo offered, his voice gentle. The warmth in his eyes sent a familiar flutter through my chest.

The ride back was filled with laughter and easy conversation.By the time we reached my hotel, a pang of disappointment settled in my stomach.

"So," Lorenzo began, his voice hesitant as he stopped the car, "I really enjoyed today. I'm glad I met you again, Y/N."

My gaze met his, and the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine, and the playful banter of the day took a more serious turn. Looking up at him, my heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs. A feeling bloomed within me – a warmth unlike anything I'd ever known.

"Me too," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.

"I didn't want this to end here," he murmured.

My heart soared. The butterflies returned, a swarm of them taking flight in my stomach. "Me neither," I confessed, mirroring his sentiment.

A slow smile spread across his face. "Can I take you to dinner tomorrow?" he asked, his voice husky with unspoken emotions.

The world seemed to shrink to just the two of us. A wide smile bloomed on my face. "Yes," I breathed, "I'd love that."

My smile stretched wider. For the first time in a long time, I felt a genuine connection, a spark of something real.

Tipping my toes up, I leaned in and brushed a soft kiss against his cheek. His breath hitched, and a flicker of surprise crossed his features before melting into a smile.

With a final lingering look, I stepped into the elevator, As the doors closed, I couldn't help but lean back against the cool metal.

Lorenzo Berkshire. On a date. With me. The little girl inside me would have laughed hysterically at the very notion back in school.

Today, however, was anything but a joke. Today was perfect. From the fancy Parisian restaurant with its impeccable service and breathtaking view, to Lorenzo himself, with his easy charm and genuine conversation, it was a fairytale come true. By the end of the night, I couldn't deny the giddy, lovestruck teenager bubbling beneath the surface.

As we exited the restaurant, paparazzi swarmed, cameras flashing like angry fireflies. We were caught in HD.

"I really liked you back at school, you know?" he confessed as we finally reached his car, the Eiffel Tower shimmering majestically in the distance. I perched myself leaned against his luxury .

"Wait, really?" Surprise mingled with a secret delight I hadn't allowed myself to acknowledge before.

"Really," he chuckled. "Though I wouldn't say I didn't mind ruining your Yule Ball dress a little."

My jaw dropped, then a laugh erupted from my lips. "So that wasn't an accident?"

"Maybe not entirely," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "Needed a reason to talk to you and stop you from dancing with that stupid boy. Besides you were always surrounded by your girls."

A blush crept up my cheeks. "I did that on purpose too being angry and act like running the dress was a big deal ," I confessed. "So you'd notice me." Schoolyard tactics, but it seemed they had worked.

The revelation hung between us for a moment, a shared secret from our past. Then, Lorenzo leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. "Well, it worked. And you, Y/N, have become even more beautiful than I ever remembered." His voice was a husky whisper, sending a rush of heat through me.”

His breath sent shivers down my spine. Before I could respond, he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. It was a soft, hesitant touch at first, then deepened, his lips moving perfectly with mine. The world melted away, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the intoxicating feeling of him.

He finally pulled away, his eyes searching mine. My heart hammered against my ribs, my breath coming in shallow gasps.

We reached my hotel in a comfortable silence, the kiss hanging heavy in the air. Stepping out of the car, I hesitated, looking up at him.

"Do you want to come in?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them, an entirely unexpected invitation.

The moment we got into the room and the door closed, we jumped into each other, he kissed me again, pushing me up against the wall. My hands found their way to his chest, feeling the heat of his body through his shirt. His lips were soft, yet insistent, and I moaned into the kiss.

My dress rode up as he lifted me, his hands gripping my bare legs. I wrapped my legs around his waist. I could feel his hardness pressing against me, and I rocked my hips, desperate for more.

He pushed my dress up, his fingers tracing a path up my bare legs. I shivered as he reached my thighs, his fingers teasing the edge of my lace panties.

"You're so wet," he murmured, his fingers tracing the outline of my pussy through the fabric. "I can't wait to taste you."

His lips trailing down my neck. I tilted my head back, giving him better access. His stubble scratching against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. He pulled my dress over my head, leaving me standing in nothing but my matching lacy black bra and panties.

Lorenzo looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and it made me feel powerful.

I reached for his shirt, undoing the buttons slowly. I wanted to savor every moment of this, to remember every touch and every kiss.

Lorenzo helped me, shrugging out of his shirt and tossing it aside, I ran my hands over his chest, feeling the muscles ripple under my fingertips.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispered, his lips finding mine again.

I moaned as he kissed me, my hands exploring his body. I could feel his hard length pressing against me, and I knew that I needed him inside of me.

"Let me show you how good I can make you feel baby."

He picked me up again, carrying me to the bed. He laid me down gently, his body covering mine. I could feel his hardness pressing against my core, and I rocked my hips, desperate for friction.

He kissed me again, his tongue exploring my mouth. I met his tongue with mine, our kiss growing more passionate.

"I want to leave marks all over your body. Can you handle it?" I nodded in response and pulled him to another kiss.

He trailed his lips down my body, his hands cupping my breasts.

"I've been thinking about this all day.“ He squeezed them gently, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. I arched my back, pressing my breasts into his hands.

He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting gently. I arched my back, moaning with pleasure. He moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention. I cried out, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

“I want to taste every inch of you. Spread your legs wider for me." He moved down my body, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

He hooked his fingers into my panties, I nodded, he pulled them down slowly. I lifted my hips, helping him, exposing my wetness. He kissed my inner thighs, teasing me, working his way up to my core.

He ran his tongue along my slit, making me gasp. He teased my clit, his tongue flicking back and forth. I moaned, my hips bucking up I moaned loudly, grabbing onto the sheets.

"Don't stop, please Enzo fuck, you're so good at this," I begged.

He slipped a finger inside me, curling it up to hit my G-spot,and I exploded. I screamed his name, my orgasm washing over me.

He didn't stop, continuing to lick and suck on my clit. He added another finger, fucking me with his fingers. His tongue still teasing my clit. I could feel my orgasm building again, my body tensing up. He increased his pace, fucking me harder. I cried out, and came again, my body shaking.

He kissed his way back up my body, his lips meeting mine. I could taste myself on his lips, and it only made me want him more. He reached for his pants, pulling out a condom. I watched as he rolled it on, my body thrumming with anticipation.

He positioned himself at my entrance, his tip teasing me.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He whispered in my ear, his voice husky with desire. I nodded, unable to speak.He thrust into me, filling me completely. I cried out, my nails digging into his back.

He started fucking me, hard and fast. I met him thrust for thrust, our bodies slapping together. He pounded into me, and I could feel another orgasm building up.

"Fuck, you feel good," he moaned, his lips finding my neck.

He sucked on my neck, his teeth grazing my skin. I moaned as he bit down, my orgasm building again.

"please Enzo," I begged, my nails digging into his back.

“ please what baby?” Lorenzo picked up the pace, his hips slamming against mine. I could feel the orgasm building, my muscles tensing.

"You're so tight around me. Do you like it when I fill you up like this?" He say , and I kept nodding at him he pushed my tears away and put kisses in there places.

He reached down, rubbing my clit. I came again, my walls clenching around his cock, and I could feel him getting closer to his release.

I screamed as I came, my body shaking with the force of the orgasm.

He thrust a few more times, and then he stilled. I could feel him cumming inside me, and I moaned. He collapsed on top of me, both of us panting heavily.

He rolled off me, and I snuggled up next to him. We lay there, our bodies entwined, as we caught our breath. I couldn't believe what had just happened. It was the hottest sex I had ever had.

“Forget about the European league, this is the best night of my fucking life,” he said, a satisfied grin on his face.

I huckled softly, resting my head on his chest while playing with his hand. “Me too,” I whispered, feeling a rush of warmth and affection for him.

He turned to me, his gaze softening as he took my hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on my palm. “I don’t want it to be just a one-night thing,” he confessed, his eyes searching mine for a reaction.

My heart skipped a beat at his words. I had to admit, the connection we shared tonight felt deeper than just physical attraction. I traced circles on his chest with my finger, pondering his statement.

"I don't want that either," I admitted, feeling a sense of vulnerability and honesty between us.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

The Daily Prophet's Patronus Parchment magazine:

Love in the Air: Y/N Y/L/N and Lorenzo Berkshire Spark Dating Rumors (Again!)

The rumor mill is churning once more, thanks to the undeniable chemistry between Y/N Y/L/N and Quidditch superstar Lorenzo Berkshire.

Holding Hands in London. Sharp-eyed fans spotted the pair strolling hand-in-hand through the charming streets of London. This heartwarming sight comes after their Parisian rendezvous last month and now-famous photoshoot, fueled further speculation of a blossoming romance.

Despite the growing buzz, Y/N and Lorenzo remain tight-lipped. Neither has officially confirmed their relationship status, leaving fans to decipher the undeniable sparks flying between them.

A Match Made in Magical Heaven? The pairing has the entire magical world swooning. Y/N, the multifaceted influencer, model, and researcher, and Lorenzo, the charming and talented Quidditch champion – they're a dream couple on paper and even more captivating in reality.

Is it Real? The lingering question remains. Is this a whirlwind summer fling, or the start of something truly special? Only time will tell. One thing's for sure: we'll be keeping a close eye on these two lovebirds!

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

Lorenzo sprawled on the couch, a defeated sigh escaping his lips as he surveyed the culinary disaster in the center of the coffee table. What started out as a valiant attempt at a romantic home-cooked dinner had morphed into something resembling a misshapen, charcoal-tinged UFO.

"Don't worry about it," I chirped, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Those YouTube tutorials made it look so easy!" Maybe a dash of optimism would salvage the situation.

Lorenzo took a valiant bite, his face contorting into a grimace he tried his best to disguise. "It's...interesting," he managed, his voice thick with forced cheer. Bless him, he was trying so hard.

I snatched the offending slice from his hand before he could ingest another questionable morsel. "You're adorable, but food poisoning is not on the menu tonight." A laugh bubbled out of me, the tension easing.

He pulled me in for a kiss, flour smudging his cheek. I couldn't help but giggle as I retaliated, dusting a heart and smiley face onto his face with the rogue flour.

grabbed another wad of dough and shaped it into a heart, a playful smile adorning its surface. Flour dusted his face as I added finishing touches, my smile widening at his sheepish grin.

"Aww, look at you," I teased, pulling out my phone to capture the moment. A picture of the unknown -shaped pizza and Lorenzo, flour-dusted and grinning, filled the screen.

My finger hovered over the 'post' button. Suddenly, a wave of uncertainty washed over me. Was it too soon? Too public?

"Hey," Lorenzo murmured, his voice soft as he tilted my chin up. "What's wrong?" His gaze followed mine to the phone screen.

"I was just...thinking," I admitted.

"About posting it?" A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Yeah," I mumbled. "Is it weird?"

He shook his head, his smile widening. "Absolutely not. Post it. Put a million red hearts on it, let the world know you have a boyfriend."

The playful jab sent a blush creeping up my cheeks. "Boyfriend, huh?" I teased, a shy smile gracing my lips.

He leaned in, his eyes holding mine. "I'm whatever you want me to be, Y/N. Just know that I'm serious about you."

My heart did a little flip-flop in my chest. "Me too," I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

With newfound confidence, I hit 'post,' adding a caption: > Dinner may not have gone according to plan, but the company is definitely five stars! ❤️❤️❤️.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

The Daily Prophet's Patronus Parchment magazine:

Antonio Garcia's Latest Film Flops: Karma's a Witch, or Just Bad Scripting?

Box Office Blues: Antonio Garcia's highly anticipated film, "Galactic Guardians," has crash-landed at the box office, leaving critics and audiences equally unimpressed. The film, touted as a summer blockbuster, has garnered a mountain of negative reviews, with many citing a weak plot and forgettable characters.

Worse Reviews Than Revenue: The critical drubbing is compounded by the film's dismal financial performance. "Galactic Guardians" struggles to pull in viewers, with its earnings barely covering its production budget. This financial flop marks a significant setback for Garcia, who previously enjoyed a string of successful films.

Karma's Calling? The timing of this double whammy couldn't be more curious, especially considering Garcia's personal life. News of his messy breakup with Y/N Y/L/N, the wildly popular model and influencer, dominated headlines last year. Rumors of infidelity swirled around Garcia, rumors he never fully addressed. Many fans are quick to draw a line between his alleged infidelity and the film's disastrous performance, whispering of a touch of karmic justice.

Coincidence or Consequence? Whether this is a case of bad scriptwriting or cosmic payback remains to be seen. One thing is certain: Antonio Garcia's career has hit a major snag. Can he bounce back from this double blow? Only time will tell, but one thing's for sure – Y/N seems to be doing just fine. In fact, she's recently been spotted with Quidditch champion Lorenzo Berkshire, and the pair seem to be radiating pure happiness. Looks like karma might have a sweeter side.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

Lorenzo dimmed the living room lights, the soft glow of the TV casting flickering shadows on the walls. We were sprawled on the couch, a mountain of popcorn between us, halfway through a cheesy rom-com that neither of us were taking very seriously.

Suddenly, I hit pause, the silence thick after the movie's soundtrack abruptly cut off. Lorenzo looked at me, a questioning eyebrow raised.

"Hey," I said, taking a deep breath. "Can I tell you something?"

He scooted closer, concern etched on his face. "Of course, Y/N. What's wrong?"

The words tumbled out, a jumbled mess of emotions. I told him about Antonio, about how young and naive I was back then, how he used me for everything I had to offer: my fame, my connections, everything but me. I confessed to feeling unloved, unseen, a trophy on his arm rather than a real person. And then, the final blow – the cheating rumors that turned out to be all too true.

"You were so young," he murmured, his voice filled with empathy. "He didn't deserve you, Y/N. Not even close."

His words were like a balm to my soul, the anger and hurt momentarily soothed. He pulled me closer, and I rested my head on his shoulder, the familiar scent of his cologne grounding me.

"You know what the best part about all this is?" I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

He shook his head, his arms tightening around me.

"The best part is you," I confessed, looking up into his eyes. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Lorenzo. You make me feel seen, valued, loved – everything I never felt with him."

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't decipher. Then, he leaned down, his lips brushing softly against my ear, "I love you," he murmured.

The words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. My breath hitched, surprise flickering across my face. Love? Here, now, with Lorenzo? It felt like a beautiful dream, too perfect to be real.

"Enzo…" I stammered, completely thrown off guard.

He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away stray tears. "Don't say anything," he pleaded, his eyes searching mine. "Just know that I do. I have for a while now."

Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze, my voice trembling slightly. "I… I love you too, Enzo."

A wide smile bloomed on his face, a smile that mirrored the warmth blossoming in my chest. The cheesy rom-com on the screen suddenly seemed unimportant.

One night, while he was staying over at my apartment, we found ourselves in a candid conversation.

I admitted that the first orgasm I had ever experienced was with him, after our first date. The confession seemed to shock him. After all, I had dated Antonio for three long years, so it was a significant revelation for both of us.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

The Daily Prophet's Patronus Parchment magazine:

Antonio Garcia's Sour Grapes: Y/N Y/L/N Responds with Class

A Case of Ex-xcuses? In a recent interview promoting his (commercially challenged) new film, Antonio Garcia took a not-so-subtle jab at his ex-girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N. When asked about his ideal partner, Garcia launched into a rambling diatribe about needing someone "grounded" and "focused," seemingly throwing shade at Y/N's multifaceted career as a model, influencer, researcher, and all-around powerhouse. Sources close to the actor claim he's been making negative comments about her to anyone who will listen. Considering their public breakup last year, fueled by rumors of Antonio's infidelity (which he never fully denied), this behavior comes as no surprise.

Lorenzo Berkshire Sings Y/N's Praises: When asked about Y/N during a recent interview, Lorenzo's face lit up with a genuine smile. " She's the kind of person who makes everyone around her better." His words paint a picture of a strong, supportive woman – the complete opposite of the image Antonio is trying to portray.

Fans Rally Behind Y/N: Needless to say, the internet erupted in support of Y/N. Fans flooded her comments with messages of empowerment and praise, applauding her success and her dignified response. Many pointed out that while Antonio struggles with box office flops, Y/N continues to excel in every aspect of her life.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

Today was the day. The Montrose Magpies, Lorenzo's team, were facing off against their fiercest rivals, Puddlemere United. It was always a tense match, but this year, the stakes felt even higher. The crowd crackled with energy, a mix of nervous anticipation and Magpies pride.

I knew Lorenzo would be incredible. He exuded a quiet confidence that was contagious. Before he stepped onto the field, I leaned in and kissed him softly. "Good luck," I whispered, my voice barely above a murmur. He smiled, a hint of nerves flickering in his usually calm eyes.

"I don't need luck with you cheering me on," he replied, squeezing my hand before disappearing into the tunnel.

The match was a whirlwind. Both teams played with an intensity that bordered on aggression. Cheering and groans filled the stadium as players soared and cursed, the Quaffle whizzing through the air at lightning speed. Penalties were called, tempers flared, and the score remained stubbornly tied.

Just when it seemed like the game might go into overtime, Lorenzo pulled off a move that defied gravity. He weaved through a sea of Puddlemere Chasers with the grace of a dancer, dodging Bludgers left and right. Finally, with a powerful flick of his wrist, the Quaffle soared through the goalposts.

The crowd erupted in a frenzy. Fans screamed, flags waved, and the stadium pulsed with pure joy. The Magpies had won! Lorenzo, the hero of the day, was hoisted onto his teammates' shoulders, the golden trophy gleaming in the afternoon sun.

He spotted me in the VIP section and winked, a playful glint in his eyes. As the celebrations on the pitch unfolded, Lorenzo made his way over, a wide grin plastered on his face. He scooped me up in a hug, the trophy still clutched in his hand, and planted a celebratory kiss on my lips. The taste of victory and the warmth of his touch sent shivers down my spine.

Moments later, I received a text from Lorenzo. Just two words: "Come over, baby." My heart skipped a beat. It wasn't unusual for us to meet up later, but the changing room? That felt… different. A knot of worry formed in my stomach. Was everything okay? Had he gotten injured?

With a mixture of apprehension and excitement, I excused myself and headed for the changing room . My mind raced with possibilities as I knocked on the door, a nervous flutter in my chest. The door creaked open, revealing Lorenzo, his hair damp from the shower.

Before I could question the unorthodox location, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. "There you are," he whispered, his voice husky with something that wasn't just exertion.

fingers tangling in my hair as he deepened the kiss. I could feel his desire, hard against my thigh, and I couldn't help but respond. My own hands found their way to his shoulders, then up to tangle in his damp hair.

"Lorenzo," I murmured, breaking the kiss for a moment. "What about your teammates?"

He smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. "They all left. It's just you and me here, babe."

My heart skipped a beat at his words. I had never been with him in such a public place before, and the thrill of the possibility was intoxicating. Before I could protest, his lips were on mine once more, his hands working their way under my shirt, caressing my skin.

I moaned softly as his fingers found my nipples, teasing them to hard points through the lace of my bra. His other hand was busy undoing my jeans, pulling them down just enough to free me from the constraints of my underwear. I could feel the cool metal of the locker against my back as he pressed me against it, his hips grinding against mine.

His mouth moved from my lips, down my neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. I gasped as his teeth grazed my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. "You like that?" he murmured, his voice low and husky.

I could only nod, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps. His fingers continued to tease my nipples, his thumb brushing against them in slow circles. I could feel the heat building between my legs, my body aching for him.

My breath hitched, and I nodded, my hands gripping his shoulders. "Yes, Enzo, don't stop."

He didn't need any further encouragement. His fingers left my nipples, tracing a path down my stomach, then lower still. I gasped as he found my clit, his fingers circling it in slow, teasing movements.

"You're dripping wet for me," he murmured, his voice full of satisfaction “You're my favorite addiction. I can't get enough of you."

His fingers slid lower, parting my folds, then entering me in one swift movement. I cried out, my back arching off the locker as he began to thrust them in and out, each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.

"Yes, just like that," I I moaned, my hips bucking against his hand.

He continued to fuck me with his fingers, his thumb still teasing my clit. I could feel myself growing closer and closer to the edge, my body tensing with each thrust.

"The way you look at me when I touch you drives me wild. Keep those eyes on me,"

His words sent me over the edge. I cried out, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave. I could feel myself clenching around his fingers, my body shaking with the force of my release.

Lorenzo didn't give me a chance to catch my breath. He pulled his fingers out of me, his lips curling into a wicked smile as he brought them to his mouth, tasting my release.

“ I love how you moan when I do this. You're mine, all mine." he murmured.

Before I could recover, he was pushing me back against the locker, his hips grinding against mine. I could feel his cock, hard and hot, pressed against my entrance.

"Do you want me to take you right here, right now?"he asked, his voice low and husky.

I could only nod, my breath coming in short gasps. I was more than ready. I needed him inside me, filling me up, claiming me as his own.

He didn't make me wait any longer. With one swift thrust, he was inside me, his cock filling me up completely. I cried out, my back arching off the locker as he began to thrust in and out, each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.

I could feel myself growing closer and closer to another orgasm, my body tensing with each thrust.

He didn't hold back. His thrusts grew harder, faster, his cock hitting that spot inside me that drove me wild. I could feel myself teetering on the edge, my body begging for release.

“I want you to say my name when you come. Let me hear how good I make you feel."

I cried out, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave. I could feel myself clenching around his cock, my body shaking with the force of my release.

Lorenzo followed me over the edge, his own orgasm ripping through him. I could feel him pulse inside me, filling me up with his release.

He collapsed against me, his breathing ragged. I could feel his heart racing, matching my own.

His lips finding mine once more.

My body still trembling with the aftershocks of my orgasm. I had never experienced anything like that before, and I knew that I would never forget it.

"I never knew public places could be this thrilling," I whispered, still caught in the haze of pleasure.

Lorenzo smiled, his eyes full of affection. "Don’t worry I have a lot of in my mind for you " he promised, his lips claiming mine in another searing kiss.

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯

#slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire fluff #lorenzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #Lorenzo Berkshire smut #lorenzo berkshire fanfic #enzo berkshire #thetorturedpoetsdepartmentmasterlist

252 notes · View notes

corneliaavenue-ao3 · 3 months ago

Text

End Game: I Wanna Be Your A-Team (chapter 3)

Ginny Weasley is playing for England's Quidditch Team in the World Cup.

This is her fanbase's reaction to it.

Read from the beginning on Ao3 here

Read this chapter on Ao3 here

@quidditch-world-cup-updates posted

The 132nd World Cup will start later today! England and the United States of America will meet up for the first time ever in the finals!

@quidditch4lyfe posted

For the first time ever, I will be rooting for the refs in a quidditch match

@thunderbirdgirll posted

CAW CAW BITCHES!!! LET'S GO USA!!!!

@horny-serpent posted

I'm about to break the statue of security and tell the No-Maj's that today is basically a second independence day. I want to dump some tea in a harbor

@beatemup posted

i can't believe i live in a time where i have to watch the fucking USA play England in the biggest game ever. The world of quidditch deserves better than this

@nycwitchy posted

🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

@quid-bitch posted

Happy Block An American Day to everyone who celebrates!

@harpies-hore reblogged @quid-bitch

my favorite day of the year!

@ginwiz posted

no matter what happens today, this is the best day of my life

@ginginweas reblogged @ginwiz

love that for you, i might avada kadavra myself if we lose

@harpies-hore posted

I can't believe they are playing this game in fucking Canada. The stadium is going to be filled with USA fans

@thunderbirdgirll reblogged @harpies-hore

HELL YEAH IT WILL BE

@harpies-hore reblogged @thunderbirdgirll

fuck you, i post the memes here

@drarry-is-real posted

only the united fucking states of america would get me to actually root for Ginny Weasley

@hinny-luv-4-eva reblogged @drarry-is-real

if you didn't have maggots for a brain, you would always root for Ginny Weasley

@drarry-is-real reblogged @hinny-luv-4-eva

you have maggots for a brain

@queezy-4-weasley posted

is anyone actually going to the match?

@ginwiz replied: merlin i wish

@ginginweas replied: my cousin is, but apparently didn't want to invite me????

@gin-will-win replied: I thought we were going to lose last round, so I spent all my money on that game

@im-a-keeper posted

I am so curious what England will bring as their mascot

@quid-bitchh reblogged @im-a-keeper

Harry James Potter

@bitch-witchh posted

so if i floo to the ministry of magic right this second, i could buy a last minute international floo ticket to canada, and then apparate to the fields outside the stadium, run to the stadium, and then apparate to the top of the stadium where i can then watch ginny weasley play in the world cup for approximately 1 minute before i get arrested by canadian aurors

@queezy-4-weasley reblogged @bitch-witchh

worth it

@corneliastreet28 posted

i can't believe this is my first quidditch game and it is the world cup!!!

@ginwiz reblogged @corneliastreet28

omg have so much fun!!!!

@quidditch-world-cup-updates posted

The United States of America has taken the field with their mascot, the Griffin, proudly flying behind them!

@nycwitchy posted

🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅CAW CAW!!! LET'S GO MY WEIRD LITTLE EAGLE/LION MASCOT🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

@ginginweas posted

Oh you know the Gryffindors are going to be pissed about America's mascot

@bitch-witchh posted

I can't see him, but I know my man, Ron Weasley, is booing so hard right now

@quid-bitch reblogged @bitch-witchh

i love a man who is a hater to his core

@quidditch-world-cup-updates posted

England has taken the field, surprisingly, with no mascot

@ginwiz reblogged @quidditch-world-cup-updates

wait why???

@queezy-4-weasley posted

Did they try to get Harry to be their mascot, and he didn't agree??

@ginginweas posted

why would we not have a mascot?????????

@nena-96 posted

no mascot?? nothing?? we couldn't even have gotten a house elf to represent us???

@im-a-keeper posted

I hate to be the one to let everyone know, but England did bring a mascot... it's just that only some people can see it

@quidditch-world-cup-updates posted

We stand corrected, England did bring a mascot. It has been reported that several Thestrals are flying alongside the British players.

@thunderbirdgirll posted

well that's fucking depressing. way to bring down the vibes britain

@puddlemore-111 posted

That is so tacky to do

@ginwiz posted

Honestly, what a tribute. We know Ginny and several of the other members of the team can see them, and it is such a great way to remember the war that we fought just a few years ago and how it still impacts people today.

@harpies-hore reblogged @ginwiz

yeah and it's a threat. We brought a fucking death omen as our mascot

@gin-will-win posted

THERE SHE IS!!!

@ginwiz posted

GINNY!!!

@harpies-hore

THAT'S MY GIRL!!!

@hinny-luv-4-eva posted

GINNY IS THERE!! NOW SHOW HARRY!!

@ginginweas

OH MY!!! I LOVE THESE QUIDDITCH KITS

@quid-bitch reblogged @ginginweas

her ass looks so good in it

@ginginweas reblogged @quid-bitch

it does, it truly does

@harpies-hore reblogged @ginginweas

harry is going to kick both of your asses

@queezy-4-weasley posted

THERE'S HARRY!!

@ginginweas posted

Harry wearing a Weasley jersey, makes me sob every time I see it

@hinny-luv-4-eva reblogged @ginginweas

wait until Ginny wears a Potter jersey

@drarry-is-real reblogged @hinny-luv-4-eva

that is NEVER going to happen

@gin-will-win posted

okay yeah Harry is wearing a Ginny Weasley jersey, BUT LOOK AT HER PARENTS!! THEY ARE WEARING MATCHING JUMPERS WITH HER FACE ON THEM!!

@bitch-witchh posted

Molly Weasley, what do I need to do for a Ginny Weasley jumper???

@ginwiz reblogged @bitch-witchh

you probably need to become a weasley

@bitch-witchh reblogged @ginwiz

any of the weasley brothers single?

@harpies-hore reblogged @bitch-witchh

percy

@bitch-witchh reblogged @harpies-hore

@quidditch-world-cup-updates posted

With the release of the snitch, the 132nd Quidditch World Cup has begun!

@brightlybound posted

can someone explain the rules of quidditch to me real quick

@queezy-4-weasley reblogged @brightlybound

big ball needs to go through hoops for 10 points

medium sized ball hits people and hurts

little golden ball ends the game for 150 points

@brightlybound reblogged @queezy-4-weasley

Thanks! I'm going to forget about half of this

@im-a-keeper posted

England came READY today

@gin-will-win posted

Weasley to Killick to Alton back to Killick to Weasley to Alton to...

@quid-bitch posted

AMERICA IS SO FUCKED

@ginginweas posted

SHE SCORED!!!

@bitch-witchh posted

I KNOW THAT IS MY GIRL!!!!

@thunderbirdgirll posted

wait, i was told weasley got her spot on the team because her boyfriend saved the world, not because she was actually good at this sport

@harpies-hore reblogged @thunderbirdgirll

America's live reaction to realizing how good Ginny Weasley is

@thunderbirdgirll reblogged @harpies-hore

plz delete

@hinny-luv-4-eva posted

HARRY ALMOST FELL OVER THE RAILING IN EXCITEMENT!!!

@drarry-is-real reblogged @hinny-luv-4-eva

now you are just writing fanfiction

@hinny-luv-4-eva posted

lol, because @drarry-is-real is my older sister

@drarry-is-real reblogged @hinny-luv-4-eva

give me my green jumper back

@hinny-luv-4-eva reblogged @drarry-is-real

@ginwiz posted

SHE SCORED AGAIN

@gin-will-win posted

is America okay? are they even trying???

@thunderbirdgirll posted

America rn

@harpies-hore reblogged @thunderbirdgirll

in another life, we would have been friends

@ginginweas posted

Do we think Shah catches the snitch today?

@queezy-4-weasley reblogged @ginginweas

by the way the chasers are playing, he might not need to

@im-a-keeper posted

I refuse to get comfortable, the USA is known for their comebacks

@ginwiz reblogged @im-a-keeper

don't say that

@quid-bitchh posted

we can't lose, america can't score

@quidditch-world-cup-updates posted

Sullivan scores the United States first points after an incredible Dionysus Dive! England is still up 40-10.

@horny-serpant posted

THANK FUCK WE GOT POINTS

@thunderbirdgirll reblogged @horny-serpant

ALL HOPE IS NOT LOST

@gin-will-win posted

ah fuck

@hinny-luv-4-eva posted

NOOO they weren't supposed to score!!!!!

@queezy-4-weasley posted

is it too late to get a new keeper?

@ginginweas reblogged @queezy-4-weasley

Ron can sub in, I heard he was keeper at Hogwarts

@queezy-4-weasley reblogged @ginginweas

i don't trust the quidditch skills of a man who cheers for the Chudley Cannons

@ginwiz posted

CAN THEY STOP SCORING PLEASE!?!?

@quid-bitch posted

GINNY!! OPHELIA!! RICHARD!!! HARRY!!! SOMEONE!!! DO SOMETHING!!!

@thunderbirdgirll posted

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!!!!!!!

@nycwitchy posted

OOOOHH SAY CAN YOU SEEE!!!! BY THE DAWN'S EARLY LIGHT

@ginginweas posted

okay I was fine with them scoring once, a little troubled with them scoring twice, hurt about the third, BUT WE LET THEM TIE US IN THE SPAN OF 5 MINUTES????

@bitch-witchh posted

I'm blaming @im-a-keeper for USA comeback

@im-a-keeper reblogged @bitch-witchh

I'm sorry

@thunderbirdgirll posted

@gin-will-win posted

things are getting.... snippy out there

@harpies-hore posted

oh Ginny is MAD

@queezy-4-weasley posted

yes Gin, steal that quaffle right out of the greedy American's hand

@nycwitchy reblogged @queezy-4-weasley

not the British citizen calling America greedy, girl, yall have some artifacts to return from the British Museum

@quid-bitch posted

THAT BITCH CLARK PULLED ON GINNY'S BROOM TAIL!!

@im-a-keeper posted

... did the refs not stop that?

@ginginweas posted

I DON'T EVEN NEED A POLL TO KNOW THAT THESE REFS ARE WORSE THAN VOLDEMORT

@ginwiz posted

OH SHIT

@quid-bitch posted

THAT WAS SO HOT OF HER

@bitch-witchh posted

GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY

@hinny-luv-4-eva posted

damn...

@quidditch-world-cup-updates posted

A fight has broken out between England and The United States of America after Ginny Weasley punched Cecelia Clark in the face

@harpies-hore posted

@quid-bitchh posted

Ginny, you can punch me at any time

@quidditch4lyfe posted

I can't believe I thought I was going to hate this game.

@thenicestthingiveseen posted

@puddlemore-111 posted

Further proof that this generation is ruining Quidditch

@ginginweas reblogged @puddlemore-111

people have died playing quidditch before and you're offended by a punch???

@hinny-luv-4-eva posted

I'm crying, Harry is cheering so loudly for Ginny right now

@bitch-witchh posted

no, but Harry is out of his seat thrilled that she threw that first punch

@gin-will-win posted

shut the fuck up, her PARENTS are celebrating her punching Clark

@ginwiz posted

@hinny-luv-4-eva reblogged @ginwiz

Harry would kill himself before hitting Ginny

@bitch-witchh reblogged @hinny-luv-4-eva

and Ginny would kill Harry before backing out of a competition

@thunderbirdgirll posted

Cecelia, girl, how you going to start that fight with an illegal move and then get your ass beat like that??? You're embarrassing me

@quidditch-world-cup-updates posted

The refs have both teams separated and the fight has ended. Cecilia Clark will be rewarded 2 free penalty shots. Ginny Weasley has received an official warning penalty.

@quidditch-world-cup-updates reblogged @quidditch-world-cup-updates

this was a terrible call btw

@ginginweas posted

NOT @quidditch-world-cup-updates recognizing how BAD these refs are!!

@queezy-4-weasley posted

at least Clark only made one of her two penalty shots

@harpies-hore reblogged @queezy-4-weasley

Clark does not equal free points

@horny-serpant posted

we were going to need those extra 10 points

@ginginweas posted

okay folks, back to our regularly scheduled England dominance

@gin-will-win posted

Alton scored thank fuck

@thunderbirdgirll posted

Sullivan scored thank fuck

@queezy-4-weasley posted

GINNY WITH THE QUAFFLE!

@bitch-witchh posted

so much is happening at once

@im-a-keeper posted

it is back and forth, back and forth for both teams.

@quidditch-world-cup-updates posted

Clark scores tying the game back up at 90-90.

@quidditch4lyfe posted

Ginny should start another fight

@harpies-hore reblogged @quidditch4lyfe

I agree

@quid-bitch posted

I fear we will be relying on Shah once again to catch the snitch

@ginwiz reblogged @quid-bitch

THAT'S OKAY!!! HE CAN DO IT!!!

@thunderbirdgirll reblogged @ginwiz

@gin-will-win posted

More points!

@nycwitchyy posted

AMERICA SCORES AGAIN!!!!

@harpies-hore posted

whenever I think we can take the lead, there America is, right behind us, scoring again

@thunderbirdgirll reblogged @harpies-hore

CAN'T GET RID OF US!!!

@hinny-luv-4-eva posted

okay can we go back to winning please? i need a happy harry and ginny post-game celebration

@puddlemore-111 posted

2 hours into the game and still no snitch sighting. Shah was the worst pick as a seeker for England

@im-a-keeper reblogged @puddlemore-111

Shah literally caught the snitch the last two matches, one of them against Victor Krum? What are you even talking about?

@ginginweas reblogged @im-a-keeper

you got to block him like the rest of us did

@im-a-keeper reblogged @ginginweas

@four2andnew posted

so when does the game actually end? I was told that Harry Potter might propose to Ginny Weasley at the end of the game

@queezy-4-weasley reblogged @four2andnew

whenever the snitch is caught

@four2andnew reblogged @queezy-4-weasley

and when will that happen?

@queezy-4-weasley reblogged @four2andnew

who's to say

@gin-will-win posted

Ginny scores again!! What is that? 8 goals for her now?

@bitch-witchh reblogged @gin-will-win

nine!

@quidditch-world-cup-updates posted

At the 2 hour and 34 minute mark, we have our first snitch sighting!

@hinny-luv-4-eva posted

CATCH THE FUCKING SNITCH AND END THE GAME SHAH!

@ginwiz posted

aaaaand they lost the snitch

@quid-bitch posted

while you were watching shah miss the snitch, i was watching our girl score again

@ginginweas posted

this is such a high scoring game so far... 210-180

@bitch-witchh reblogged @ginginweas

both team's keepers kinda suck

@ginginweas reblogged @bitch-witchh

we should have had Wood over Frisby

@quid-bitch reblogged @ginginweas

I love Wood

@bitch-witchh reblogged @quid-bitch

we know

@gin-will-win posted

MORE POINTS FOR GINNY!!!

@harpies-hore posted

if we manage to win this, Ginny deserved MVP again

@bitch-witchh

SNITCH SIGHTING SNITCH SIGHTING!!!!

@ginwiz posted

AHHHHHHH!!!!!!

@queezy-4-weasley posted

SHAH YOU CAN KICK THE AMERICAN'S ASS

@thunderbirdgirll posted

COME ON DIAZ!!!! CATCH THE SNITCH!!!

@nycwitchy posted

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@harpies-hore posted

YEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!1

@im-a-keeper posted

SHAH DID IT!!!!

@quid-bitch posted

I NEVER THOUGHT THIS DAY WOULD COME!!!!!!!!

@bitch-witchh posted

BREW YOUR TEA WITH AMERICAN TEARS TONIGHT BECAUSE ENGLAND JUST WON!!!!

@quidditch-world-cup-updates

Steffan Shah snagged the snitch! England has won the 132nd Quidditch World Cup!

@drarry-is-real posted

I CAN'T BELIEVE I AM ACTUALLY HAPPY GINNY WEASLEY WON!

@hinny-luv-4-eva posted

SHE FLEW STRIAGHT OVER TO HARRY!!!!!!!1

@drarry-is-real posted

I no longer am happy Ginny Weasley won

@queezy-4-weasley posted

GINNY AND HARRY!!!!

@ginginweas posted

i love their love

@quid-bitch posted

HARRY AND GINNY SITTING IN A TREE!! K-I-S-S-I-N-G

@hinny-luv-4-eva posted

THEY JUST MAKE ME FEEL SO MANY THINGS I LOVE HINNY YOURE HONOR

@harpies-hore posted

EVERYBODY WANTS TO KNOW WHAT I WOULD DO IF I DIDN'T WIN!!! GUESS WE'LL NEVER KNOW

@gin-will-win posted

WHERE'S THE TROPHY??? SHE JUST COMES RUNNING OVER TO ME!!!!

@thunderbirdgirll posted

okay im sad, but they are very cute together

@nycwitchy reblogged @thunderbirdgirll

i know. like the hot, young quidditch star is dating the savior of the world. swoon worthing. i need a romance book based off of them, stat

@hinny-luv-4-eva reblogged @nycwitchy

i don't have a book, but I can give some fanfic recommendations

@ginwiz posted

wait... did anyone else see that sparkle?

@ginginweas reblogged @ginwiz

i thought my eyes deceived me there for a second but....

@hinny-luv-4-eva posted

DID SHE JUST SLIP ON AN ENGAGEMENT RING??

@queezy-4-weasley posted

THAT'S A RING

@harpies-hore posted

@bitch-witchh posted

ENGAGED HINNY??? DID HE JUST PROPOSE???

@gin-will-win posted

I don't think it was a proposal??? i think she couldn't wear the ring during the game and she just slipped it on herself after the game!???

@ginginweas reblogged @gin-will-win

I THINK YOU'RE RIGHT!!! THEY WERE ALREADY ENGAGED!

@ginwiz posted

THEY JUST CASUALLY ANNOUNCING THAT THEY ARE ENGAGED???

@im-a-keeper posted

This was the best season of quidditch I have ever experienced. Love stories, fist fights, and a quidditch world cup. I may actually be crying.

@hinny-luv-4-eva posted

I DON'T THINK I WILL EVER GET OVER TODAY

@drarry-is-real reblogged @hinny-luv-4-eva

you are so annoying

@hinny-luv-4-eva reblogged @drarry-is-real

LOVE YOU TOO SIS!!!

@ginnyweasley posted

WE WON!!!

I had a wonderful experience playing for England alongside my excellent teammates. So thankful to have such a loving, supportive fiancé to celebrate with!!

@gin-will-win posted

FIANCE!!!!!!

#end game #hinny #ginny weasley #harry potter #harry x ginny #harry potter x ginny weasley #harry potter fanfiction #this is a wrap! thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed this silly little fic!#and if you are tagged it is because you told me i could!!! I hope you enjoy your small role!!#(unless you are ginwiz then i am sorry you keep getting tagged but in my defense that was my old url)

56 notes · View notes

vipvesper · 3 months ago

Text

all is fair in love and war

pairing: octavian x child of bacchus!reader

warnings: octavian 😞, pining, minor cursing, spoilers for son of neptune!!

word count: 1.3k+

“i wish reyna would let me strangle you.”

Octavian? You hate him for the most part. You hate the storm swirling above the Temple of Jupiter that crackles with electricity as another teddy bear augury is completed. You hate the way his piercing blue eyes mock you from behind Reyna as you sit at a Centurion’s meeting. You hate his insane laughter that echoed in your ears 6 years ago when he mutilated your stuffed animal. You roll your eyes. Dakota’s red-ringed lips lazily speak orders to the Fifth Cohort, but nobody’s listening. We’re gonna soften the defenses. Again. Great. As if the looks on our faces afer stepping away from the Officer’s conference wasn’t bad enough, Dakota’s speech isn’t helping. He squeezes a packet of Kool-Aid.

“Listen, guys. This is gonna be a good one, I can feel it!” You take charge, opting to do the talking. “Hazel and Frank, I know you guys are still on the new side, but I think you can do this. First row, create a shield wall with Dakota as you advance to soften the blow. Second row from Cecil over, hide behind the shields to fight off any advancing defenses. The other twelve, try to sneak around the flanks and find a way in.” A smile pulls at your lips, moving your brother aside. “Let’s move out, troops! Victory for the Fifth!”

The child army echoes your cheer as your ranks break. A looming wall stands in front of you, cohorts three and four standing guard behind. How do we see past the wall? When it’s so tall? “I suppose we’re acting as bait again,” you murmur to Dakota.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Hannibal’s all ready?” You inquire, wanting to make sure your cohort gets the win they deserve. He nods, grabbing another juice out of his pocket.

The war games start, Reyna hovering overhead with Scipio. A circle of eagles fly in tandem with her, awaiting injury. You tag along with the twelve soldiers, attempting to find a crack in the wall, an unguarded plate. A tug pulls in your stomach, long green vines pushing out of the ground of the Field of Mars. Branches split off to grab your cohort, gently placing my teammates over the wall. It’s a struggle to keep Hazel and Frank quiet as they’re plopped right into enemy territory. The sounds of swords clashing rings out before you can even climb up yourself.

As you drop down, armor clinking together, the vines recede to leave a small scar in the earth. Wide blue eyes immediately stare back at you, coupled with the golden glint of a spatha. Great. Octavian’s here. Can’t give him a chance to think, you remind yourself. Your gladius makes a nice noise as you remove it from its sheath, pressing the flat against his smaller weapon. Before long, he’s disarmed. Unfortunately for you, he immediately starts to squawk, alerting any soldiers who might’ve still been preoccupied by their Mythomagic tournament.

“Backup! I need backup!” The lanky blonde yells, fumbling for his secondary weapon. A stray arrow whizzes past your ear as you lunge, grabbing him by his shoulder.

“Fifth cohort, for the colors!” Jonathan and Frank rush for their emblem, narrowly dodging flying furniture. Hazel’s backed into a corner by a First cohort member, her golden eyes filled with determination.

But, Tyche really isn’t on your side, is she?

A last minute elephant mishap knocks your troops away from the battlefield, wiping the scoreboard clean. Eagles swoop down to snatch up a good portion of the teenage militia.

You sit on a stone wall overlooking the city of New Rome, holding an icepack to your cheek. Guess Octavian had gotten you after all. A sigh rolls past your lips. The win was so close, it was right there. Bandages wrap around any minor cuts you may have acquired during the game. The all-too familiar crinkle of a Kool-Aid pouch makes you assume that Dakota had finally found you.

A rather soft object hits the back of your head.

It’s a freaking Kool-Aid packet. Grape flavored, at that.

“Wouldn’t Reyna like to know that her favorite Centurion is throwing a fit over a loss? What a sore loser,” a sarcastic voice jests. You grit your teeth, turning to face Octavian.

Curse him and his skinny body, his stupidly gorgeous blue eyes, his unblemished skin—

Woah.

Where did that come from?

“I’m looking for ways to better myself for my cohort. Not like you’d know anything about self-reflection,” You scoff. Much to your chagrin, the augur sits beside you. Phoebus Apollo rides close to the horizon, signaling the nearing arrival of dinnertime. “Do you mind?”

“No, I don’t,” he smirks. He looks quite stupid with those stuffed animals hanging from his belt, in your opinion. Seven stripes burn on his forearm under the symbol of an eagle, much like your own. His loose white toga hangs off his clothed shoulders. The sun radiates onto his pale skin, bathing him in a warm glow. Cocky bastard. He knows he’s pretty. “Do you have a staring problem?”

You snap back to reality real quick.

“No, I don’t.” You turn your head away, embarrassed. You weren’t staring, were you? Small vines decorated by bundles of purple grapes pop up around you, encircling the area. “Is there a reason you’re here? Or would you just like to gloat.”

Octavian reclines, pressing his hands on the green grass behind him. He picks a grape, tossing it at your temple. “I’m simply encouraging your improvement,” he teases.

“I wish Reyna would let me strangle you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

As you look out at the sunset, you don’t notice his eyes on you. You don’t notice the way his gaze trails over the bridge of your nose and your freckles and the rosy hue covering your cheeks like he’s committing the way you look at dusk to memory.

“Pretty night, huh?”

That’s unusual. Octavian making small talk?

“Yeah, it is.”

“You weren’t too bad today,” he mutters, very clearly avoiding his gaze. It’s very much unlike him to butter you up, even if he wants something.

“Thanks?” you tilt your head, confused by his praise. Should you be offended?

The two of you look out at the little Tiber rolling over the hills, basking in the golden hue painting the heavens. A long, cold hand drapes over yours eventually, gently squeezing. You jolt away, face pink as the clouds in the sky.

“The Pluto?!”

“Shut up.” He shoves something in your lap, and for a second you think it’s a grenade of Greek fire, set to explode as soon as he’s out of range. Tyche must feel sorry for her absence earlier.

A soft green material, as green as the grass, sits against your thighs, a happy smile staring up at you. It can’t be. A fuzzy memory returns to you, a feeling of nostalgia washing over you. A frog plush from long ago. Stitches a bit darker than the original fuzzy fabric reach from seam to seam, head to toe.

“What—?”

“Seriously, shut up. I found it tucked away, thought you’d like to see it again before it gets sacrificed to the gods again.”

You scoop up the piece of your childhood in your free hand, eyes wide as the cosmos. Before that little smirk on Octavian’s face can grow any further, a cold, hard object smacks him right across the face, sending him reeling.

“What the—?!”

“You little dick,” you huff, placing the icepack on the ground. “Thanks, I guess.”

He smiles—a real smile, however small—as he stares into your eyes. “You’re very welcome, love.” His alabaster face is painted red.

You shake your head, amused. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

Like a scene from a fairytale, his hand snakes its way onto your waist, the proximity only forcing more of your father’s fruit out of the ground.

“Like I’d listen to you,” he chides.

You lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a gentle kiss.

“I really am irresistible.”

“Shut up, you’re ruining the moment.”

#fanfic #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #percy pjo #octavian #hoo x reader #hoo x you #pjo hoo toa #rick riordan #fanfiction #self indulgent #self insert #ancient rome #rome #tyche #vipvesper

48 notes · View notes

verdemoun · 6 months ago

Note

Please please please tell me Rains Fall and Eagle Flies are in your timewarp AU, if the answer is yes PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE RAMBLE ABOUT THEM I LOVE YOUR AU SO SO MUCHHHH

rains fall def isn't getting timewarped he deserves to pass away peacefully in his sleep knowing that his people were safe and content, able to build new lives in canada. he got to sit around a campfire one last time with paytah at his side and despite all the devastation and young men lost in 1899 the tribe healed and there's a new generation who will be raised with the freedom of knowing their home will always be theirs and still learn their traditions. he gets to listen to children play and finally find peace with the fact he may have lost all his sons but ultimately the freedom eagle flies had wanted for the wapiti people (even though they lost their land) was secured

EAGLE FLIES ON THE OTHER HAND

arthur was cautiously optimistic that dying might have been enough to chill eagle flies out nope. man found himself a horse and is minutes away from setting a petrol station on fire when they find him

all that anger eagle flies is holding onto would be tenfold for a long damned time in modern era like things are still Not Great for native americans and he would feel awful but vindicated

in a really tragic way grief would be his salvation he would feel so lost and stuck like he misses his father his friends his men. he was angry over losing his home in 1899 but in modern era he's lost his family and while arthur is still a great friend to him and he values that connection it's not family or home and he realizes he doesn't have anything left to be fighting for

BUT IT'S OKAY HAPPY STUFF TIME between arthur being the voice of non-violence (for probably the first time in his life) and learning about interactions between first nations and the us government over the 100+ years between 1899 and modern era eagle flies would come to his own conclusion that while violent protest was often necessary to start negotiation, rights were secured in legal jargon. gotta engage with the system to change and beat the system

he starts studying both history and law with a touch of lenny's tutorage. (he also learns to hide his identity and still goes to protests because he KNOWS that absolute pacifism won't work. you cannot take the absolute rage out of the last son)

it wasn't in his time or rains fall's time but the wapiti people were able to return to the heartlands before modern era so he gets to see his people in their home and no it's not perfect but it's still something so joyous it motivates him to keep being an activist both civilly and violently

there's such a positive exchange of knowledge like eagle flies is able to share traditional stories that were lost to time but also learn traditions that were already lost in 1899 but rediscovered through the exhaustive efforts of the modern era wapiti people

i lied rains fall gets one day in timewarp when he meets his natural death so he sees eagle flies as a matured young man in his 30s and they get to embrace. more importantly they sit down and talk in a way they hadn't been able to for a long time. rains fall gets to tell his son he was always proud of him and understood even through their disagreements eagle flies only ever wanted what was best for their people. eagle flies gets to tell his father he was sorry for not listening: he understands now what rains fall was always trying to tell him about the destructive power of violence (even though rains fall doesn't want or need an apology. he just loves his son and is glad he's getting a chance at a new life )

they get one perfect day where they get to be happy and understand one another

TIME FOR FUNNIES eagle flies accidentally becomes the dutch of isaac's anarchist friend group. he's giving them all the tips on how to get away with political crime. he's not directly involved but there's a whatsapp group where isaac sends selfies with the sawn off head of a columbus statue and eagle flies is living vicariously through them while he maintains his civil activist status

charles is his modern era right hand man. he will go to charles to bitch about stupid local government meetings he's been asked to speak at. he's been in timewarp for almost a decade by the time charles gets there but he's still annoyed by the same stuff charles is and it's very cathartic to hear someone else agree and Get it from their perspective

as a direct result he has the same tongue in cheek humor as charles and arthur is so easy to tease. they'll be hanging out and arthur will ask charles if he can unpack the dishwasher when he has a chance* and both eagle flies and charles will hit him with the 'slave to the white man u_u'. as much as charles tries to assure arthur it was a joke you bet poor arthur is already insisting he can do it himself

i am so sorry i hope this is sufficient rambling

#rdr2 timewarp au #eagle flies #rains fall

28 notes · View notes

cosmichighpriestess · 21 days ago

Text

Chosen Ones, Cursebreakers, Black Sheep,

Many people are holding onto the past and the older version of you and you can feel this energy because of your sensitivity but you are stronger than this false projection of you. You know who you are and gone are the days that you accept less than you deserve. You don't have to worry about these people anymore. God and your ancestors are silencing them and you will no longer have to see people you are no longer aligned with. Just mind your business when dealing with them until they disappear from your life. Mind your business when you see their life in shambles. That's not for you to focus on and you're not going back there.

Remember, anyone not aligned with you is not on the same planet as you even if you are in the same room with them. We can observe other realities right next to each other. But anyone not on the same frequency as you, and not aligned with you will disappear eventually from your reality. You are not better in any way, you choose a better reality for yourself that is all. But everything is always neutral, and has no meaning so don't define everything you see. Just observe it and realize you are the eagle soaring up above the snakes and rats. They can look but they can't touch you. You're also like a cat with nine lives because you live your life so carefree.

You are so trusting that the Universe is always supporting you one hundred percent because of how much you already survived, that you can always land standing on your two feet. & It pisses everyone off. No matter what you are faced with because of how optimistic, authentic, and aligned you are with yourself, with Source. Even when you have negative emotions, you know they are temporary and you know how to move through them without hurting anyone around you. You always apologize to people when you are having a bad or off day because you never want anyone to experience the pain you did.

They tortured you didn't they? You warned them what happens to people who ignore God didn't you? They allowed certain false rumors to be spread about you because you threatened their ego and unhealed wounds, so they wanted the false rumor to be true to make them feel better about themselves because they can't validate themselves or regulate their own emotions. They could have stopped the rumor and said, "Oh no that's not that person's character, that's not what they are like." But they continued to let it spread because they wanted to see you as beneath them. But in truth, God knew you would rise above it and forgive yourself and them for creating the experience to grow from.

Their punishment is going to be far worse than the crime and it's going to last years, not days. All they had to do was leave you alone. But they couldn't stop themselves from torturing you because they received so much pleasure from watching you in pain and keeping you right where they wanted you until you finally freed yourself. They blamed you for the cause and reason for their conflict. They based your entire personality and character based off the way you reacted to their abuse. When you spoke up for yourself, then you were the abusive one and they were the victim even though they hit you, manipulated you, controlled you, dominated you, gaslit you, or tortured you emotionally. If you stayed silent, then you were manipulative, or vindictive.

If you treated them how they treated you by matching their energy then that was proof you were the problem and being petty. But you were being constantly gaslit and they were the perpetual victim. Your tears were real but theirs never were and that was the truth. They didn't even cry, they just pointed the finger at you and told everyone you were the problem and everyone believed them because they were only treating you less than human and to them they were equals. They received acceptance from everyone around them by always pointing the finger at you. I'm so sorry you had to experience that kind of trauma that just kept repeating itself over and over.

I'm so sorry you continued to be triggered by your abusers and they never tried once to understand your perspective and the hell you endured. I'm sorry everyone disappointed you, breadcrumbed you, didn't see your worth, let you down and saw you as nothing when you were everything in truth. I'm so sorry everyone looked at you like you were crazy and you were not believed when you had very normal reactions to extreme abuse people normalized and swept underneath the rug. But the joke is on them now. They now feel unfulfilled with their choices to mishandle you and earn a place out of your life for good. They now miss your abundant, fortunate energy because you were their blessing in disguise they decided was unworthy of them because of their superiority complex.

They called you the narcissist because they were the narcissist in denial. They are in denial that they are in denial. They now have to accept they were wrong about you. You treat everyone with respect, dignity and love even if they mistreat you. You just love yourself and they mistake your love for yourself as faked just like they are fake. They will receive a reflection of the fakeness they are and project onto you. Fake people, fake love, fake opportunities etc. You will receive a true energetic vibration of the authentic frequency you are within all people you will meet and opportunities. You are actually who you say you are and you are actually the first one to break the toxic cycles and heal yourself first while everyone else still has unhealed wounds bleeding onto everyone else because they refuse to see themselves accurately because they are afraid that you're right about them.

You unchained yourself from the false realities and said, "Nope. This ain't it. I'm better than this because I'm doing the inner work to heal and I demand to see better. I validate myself and I trust my truth is right and I will NOT accept a life I do not deserve. Period. Show me the true reality Universe that I created." And the Universe said, " You must be patient, it's coming." And you trusted and you waited, and waited and kept working on healing yourself and your triggers and your reality still was not reflecting your new inner self. And you became angry but you thought you were the problem. Again. So you experimented and tried new ways to heal yourself and kept replacing old outdated beliefs and thoughts that did not belong to you.

And you waited, and you were patient and you accepted your reality would change but not on your time, on the Universes time. And you waited, and you cried for your situation to get better and it did, but you were still being breadcrumbed by everyone and by the Universe and you were still not where you wanted to be. And now, here you are, still wondering, "Is it me? Am I not being delusional enough? Am I not healed? Am I not letting things go enough? Am I not detaching from the outcome? Am I not reprogramming myself enough? Did I lose my faith? Did I ask for too much? Or not enough? Am I the problem? Where's what I worked hard for?" And the Universe is now saying to you, "it's not you. It's me." Your blessings are on the Universe's time. But the timing is not timing. So what gives?

In actuality they are saying to you, "You're actually doing everything right. But you healed sooner and better than the Universe expected you to. You are healing faster and ahead of time." Even though time is an illusion. The Universe still uses our illusion of time on earth to bring about change so it makes sense to us. So you're ahead of yourself and you weren't supposed to heal fully for another year or two. But with all the abundance of information at the tips of our fingers, you used the information to heal yourself rapidly and you stayed grateful and danced through the storms. So now all you have to do is be grateful that you have everything you need, but trust what you desire is coming, you're just ahead of schedule.

So great job? I'm so sorry? I wish I had better news for you. I feel your pain, anger and impatience but you are doing everything correctly and you are NOT the problem. Transmute these intense emotions by letting them go to the Earth and God. Your ego wants to be apart of your new life. So it's trying to make sense of everything but it doesn't understand the Universe or anything other than itself and you. So keep reminding your ego, your heart is in charge, but it can take a back seat because the heart knows the way to go.

Keep reminding your ego, you're not traumatized anymore and bad things aren't going to keep happening to you like they did in the illusionary past. Yes, you experienced it. But now is the only moment that exists now. Your emotions and feelings are real. But the experience was an illusion. Your feelings are the only thing that was real. So keep talking to the inner parts of yourself that are confused and let them know it's all going according to plan and you have everything you need even if it's not what you want. You're still very fortunate and everything is always working out for you. Your ego is triggered and feeling gaslit and manipulated by the Universe and in all actuality everything you deserve is coming to you, but you are taking the necessary actions and you are doing exactly what you are meant to do. It's okay to feel negative emotions, you're not falling back, you're just going back to be triggered to change your perception on the situation. Just relax, and breathe and keep on staying aligned with yourself by feeling how you want to feel emotionally. It's all on its way to you now just keep practicing what you have been everyday to keep your frequency high.

#chosen ones #this message is not for everyone

9 notes · View notes

lavenderovercast · 4 months ago

Text

Blessed are The Peacemakers summary: Charles sets off to give Arthur a proper burial. warnings: hurt no comfort, mentions of canonical character death, mentions of terminal illness/succumbing to terminal illness, mentions of grieving, burial of a corpse/encountering a corpse, mentions of period-typical racism notes: this is cross-posted to my ao3, click here to read it there! <3 also be nice to me, this isn't beta read and it's a year old :( > this also includes mentions of an OC since this is a gift/part of an AU, but you're free to ignore them!

He had been helping the tribe when word caught up to him. When Rains Fall had approached him with a downcast expression, Charles had felt his heart tighten in his chest with fear. The man had been sitting near the fire that he had set, watching the orange flames and embracing the warmth that blasted against his frigid body. It was October, and it felt as though winter was quickly approaching — especially with the onslaught of rain that had decided to pour down from the heavens. It wasn’t ideal weather to travel in, especially with a group of Natives… But what choice did they have? Their home was taken from them, everything, their dignity included, stripped away callously by cruel men. Charles had an obligation to help them however he could, and he knew that fact, even if he didn’t feel deserving of such a position. Even if he had felt horribly helpless, only able to watch as these people — his people — continued to have everything taken from their hands. When Rains Fall had approached after they had settled and taken a seat beside Charles, he knew that something was wrong. There was a heaviness in the man’s posture, as though more weight was set upon his shoulders. Guilt racked through Charles at the thought of Eagle Flies, his undeserved death.

“I caught word that Arthur passed.” The words leave a knot in his throat, and rocks in his belly. Charles is silent, continuing to stare down the fire to try and ignore the sensation of the hot tears threatening to escape from the corners of his eyes. He had known it was coming. Arthur was sick, very sick, and you would have to be blind not to notice such a thing. Arthur was once a big man, who stood tall with his head held high. Charles could easily tell you that Arthur’s blue eyes were filled with light, mischievousness, even — in spite of the sour look always planted on the man’s weathered face.

Arthur was not only well built but the very definition of healthy, once upon a time. Strong, brave, and able to carry out any and every task provided to him. When Charles had last seen his companion, his… His something more, he had been reduced to a hunched-over shell, his body racked with thick, painful coughs that rattled in his chest and shook his bones. Arthur’s skin had become pale, his eyes lost their light and became something dull and sad, not unlike a rainy day, and he had become terribly skinny. Charles knew better than anyone that Arthur could still hold his own in spite of his sickness, but…

Should he be surprised, really? Charles had known it was coming — Arthur’s death. It hurts to think about it like that, but it’s true. After all, Charles had been the one to assure the man that his illness was not a curse, not completely, anyways. There was a bright side to it, a blessing amongst the darkness being placed upon Arthur. Where the brunette saw his illness as the reckoning that he deserved, Charles viewed it for what it was: a blessing, an honor.

Arthur had the bliss of knowing when his time would come, and not many people would ever be granted that opportunity. Death was typically quick and sudden, like a bullet to your back or a vengeful gang torturing you before taking your head and displaying you to your own people like a trophy, a mocking image. But Arthur’s sickness? It was something that would grant him the opportunity to do right and be right. Unlike the others that they had watched die, that Charles had helped bury…

Arthur could make amends with the world and his wrongdoings before the end of it all. He could enter it as a hateful, angry man that Charles did not see within him, or leave it the good, selfless man that Charles did see within him. And he had told Arthur as much. To have used his sickness as an indication of his limits, to decide who he wanted to be during these final days.

It became increasingly clear that Arthur’s enemy was not those around him, but rather time itself. The man was waging war against an invisible clock and an invisible force destroying him from the inside out, and eventually, he wouldn’t be able to fight either of his opponents anymore. Charles swallows the knot in his throat, and tries to ignore the terrible throb in his heart as he replies in a voice that he’s impressed remains steady in spite of his swarming emotions:

“I… I see.” Charles manages, but barely.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Rains Fall is quick to reply, a gentle hand placed on the man’s shoulder as if to place emphasis on the truth of his words. Charles can only stare at the fire ahead of the pair, and for a while there’s only the sound of the wood popping and crackling. The silence between the men seems to last an eternity.

And then Rains Fall speaks again. “The army men. They mentioned Bacchus Bridge — That’s somewhere near where they last saw Mister Van der Linde.” The name fills Charles with rage, and makes him clench his fists before drawing in a shallow breath through his nose, nodding his head to signal to his companion that he had heard the older man’s words very clearly.

But the statement also warrants a question — if Dutch was seen near the bridge, and only Dutch… What about the others? Charles' mind wanders to his former gang members. Bill, Javier, Nathan, the goddamn snake… … John, Sadie, Abigail, Tilly, Eliza… His heart feels heavy at the thought of each of them, but it aches the most when the pregnant blonde comes to mind. He’s glad to know that if the army men had only spotted Dutch — then there’s a good chance that the others had gotten away — or worse, they could be dead. He tries hard not to think about the second possibility, even though it’s far more likely than the first.

“No one… No one found him, properly?” Charles questions, the words lingering in the air between them. The unspoken words weigh heavy in his sentence, although they aren’t breathed to life: Has he been buried yet? Rains Fall is quiet for a moment, and then shakes his head no. “Too many men in the area. No one wanted to come near, and I thought I should tell you…” A deep sigh racks the man’s body as he leans forward. “...Since you were fairly close with him. Maybe you’d be willing to do what others wouldn’t.”

Charles can only muster the strength to nod in reply, in acknowledgment. Because his mind is already made up — he’ll make the trek to Bacchus Bridge first thing in the morning.

The journey wasn’t necessarily difficult, but Charles couldn’t describe it as easy, either. He had departed from the Wapiti camp first thing in the morning as he had promised himself, stating that he would be back in a few day's time. He just had… Unfinished business that needed to be settled. That was an easy way of sugarcoating the truth, of trying to ignore the grief and unsteadiness lingering in his heart as he mounted Taima. The spotted grey and white horse didn’t hesitate to move forward as her rider saddled up, but gave a neigh in his direction — as though concerned.

All Charles could do was offer a sad smile and pat the mare assuringly on the side of her neck, fingers brushing through her dark mane. And then they were wandering forward, into the forest and away from the safety of the temporary shelter and community. Such a trek isn’t unfamiliar to Charles. He’s had to travel on his lonesome dozens of times before. The man can’t really recall a time before joining the gang that he had company — proper company, aside from his horse.

Yes, it was true that Charles had gotten himself mixed up with companions and people from these gangs that would travel with him — but their approaches were typically reluctant, or due to wanting something from the man. Never for the sole reason of companionship, of company shared between one another. There were no personable conversations, or simple chores like hunting being carried out. There was always bloodshed, a sense of danger, a sense of fear that you could die — and that you would be left behind by the person who dragged you into said danger.

Arthur didn’t approach Charles at the beginning of their dynamic. He was tentative, almost nervous, in a sense — which in retrospect feels funny to say, because Charles had only ever seen Arthur as someone bold, maybe even a little rash. Until he dug underneath the surface and worked his way into getting to properly know the man, that is. This eventual closeness led Charles to a conclusion about his thoughts on and toward Arthur:

No, not all of Arthur was good — but there was far more goodness and kindness in the brunette than he would have liked to believe, than he would let himself believe. Charles can still clearly recall when they had found that German family — the way that Arthur had told him that they didn’t even speak their language, so why should they help them? They both knew that these words were a poor excuse for Arthur to continue playing the big bad wolf.

Dutch’s top gun, his enforcer. The man that would do all the dirty work for Dutch, because he was more loyal than a dog. But Charles knows that this wasn’t Arthur’s true sentiments, because the man’s face wrinkled into a grimace as though he almost wanted to apologize, and he had reluctantly trailed after Charles and the split family. Arthur wouldn’t have put his life on the line for said family, not for a campsite, not for some gold that he didn’t even know about until after the fact — unless he had some goodness in his heart.

Charles had witnessed men do far worse than Arthur would ever be capable of. Unlike them, Arthur did not lack in his moral compass. Misguided with his decisions, with following his anger? Absolutely. But it could never be said with full confidence, at least by him, that Arthur was truly, purely, awful and evil. It simply isn’t true, not in a world like this.

Arthur wouldn’t have had people who loved him the way that they did had he no good in his heart, had he put no good into the world. Their relationship was proof that Arthur was capable of good, of loving, and being loved. His marriage to Eliza was proof of such a thing — the blonde had looked at Arthur as though he could put the stars in the sky for her, and Charles was almost inclined to agree with such a lovesick mentality. He couldn’t help it, there had always been something alluring about Arthur.

His chest feels heavy at the thought. Even as the scenery changes around him, and the sky shifts from dawn to day, back to dusk and then night. The man is trapped with only his thoughts and his silent companion as he travels, trying to ignore the way that the cold grows worse. Maybe it’s because of the ache in his chest, but the numbness in his fingers and the rest of his body makes navigating and moving increasingly hard. But he tries because he has to do this for Arthur and he knows that much.

Charles can’t help but worry about their other companions. He has no doubt that Arthur would do everything that he could to get John out of the situation, because in spite of the fact that the two constantly butted heads, they were brothers. The man can feel his lips twitching into a sad smile as he recalls a story that Arthur had recited to him when they were up in Colter when they were looking for Eliza. The affection and joy in the man’s voice were clear, and although he did his best to claim that he certainly did not care for the fool named John Marston, his enthusiasm about the story told a completely different tale.

Eliza is a similar case to John, in terms of importance. He knows that Arthur would have done anything and everything in his power to ensure the blonde’s safety, although he had grown to know the blonde well enough that she wouldn’t accept such a thing. The woman was kind and had a heart of gold, but she was also just as stubborn as Arthur. Their mutual stubbornness often led to their arguments and rifts being placed between one another, rifts that Charles had grown accustomed to stitching back together.

Not that such a task was very hard. Both cared for each other deeply and with the right amount of coaxing could be talked into speaking terms with each other again. With gentle ‘ I’m sorry’s ‘ and wrapping themselves up in the other. Sometimes it felt as though Charles was a part of the relationship, rather than just affiliated with Arthur through the occasional cuddle or holding of hands when they weren’t in camp, or in a rare case, they were in camp and Eliza wasn’t . Not that Charles would complain when the woman was in camp with Arthur, because he had found that he enjoyed both of their company.

Especially when Arthur was in that shipwreck. He had become especially close with Eliza, because the pair had leaned against each other, sat alone with a grief that only they could mutually understand while trying to keep everything around them afloat. Charles almost wishes that they could go back to the days in Lakay because even though it was horribly humid and hot, he had enjoyed exploring the swamps with Eliza and that old dog of hers. They’d go looking for plants, because that made Eliza feel better, and it put Charles' restless mind at ease, too.

Even if Eliza was absolutely terrified of the alligators and would scream whenever they encountered one, it was a peaceful time — it felt like the calm before a storm. And in hindsight, it was. All the man could really do now though, was hope that Eliza was okay. That she hadn’t stubbornly followed Arthur to his death, that the brunette had been able to place his foot down with the loyal woman. That doesn’t do much to ease the part of his mind that wonders if maybe it would have been better for them to go together, though — because then Eliza wouldn’t be filled with the same feelings that lingered in Charles' soul now.

And John… John was a stubborn fool himself, from what he could tell — although not relatives by blood, John had done very well to take after his older brother. But he had grown better, wiser, with time, Charles had noted. The man had seemed to become someone determined to protect and guard his family from the cruelty of the world, although Charles worried that this change in demeanor may have come too late. He wouldn’t be surprised if the law got their hands on John, and he was back in that damned prison — or put in a similar position to his brother. Charles wasn’t certain of which scenario would make John the lucky one.

But Charles is certain that the pit in his stomach is only worsening, growing into a blackhole when he finally reaches his destination. It feels strange to see the blown-up bridge from this distance, and even stranger to gaze out into the rocky surroundings and feel a sickening dread that if the rumors are correct, he’ll find Arthur here. Limp, cold… Charles forces himself not to dwell on the thoughts, the potential facts. He puts his focus into trying to find the man if he’s even here.

Most of the day is spent doing just that. Searching. He rides Taima slow and easy, investigating his surroundings for any animal tracks, or even unusual animals in the area — vultures, small creatures, even canids like foxes or wolves. Anything that would want to get their jaws into a free meal. Much to the man’s dismay, he eventually finds evidence of a fight on a rocky cliffside. This is when he dismounts Taima, and Charles finds himself climbing and moving in a way that feels so familiar, but so unnatural to the same extent.

It’s been some time since he’s left the gang to help the Wapiti tribe, and it shows in his rustiness with physical endurance, with the activities he would often be forced to participate in when he was actively assisting the gang. The cold doesn’t help any, either. The wind blows harsh against his face, and he has a hard time keeping his fingers dug into the cold stone underneath him. It almost feels as though he’s being beckoned away from something. It only makes the man more determined to press onward.

Charles needs some sort of closure, and he knows that’s part of what pushes him forward. He’s successful in climbing the cliffside, and is greeted by a patch of greenery. Wildflowers are blooming against the green in spite of the weather, but they don’t stop a terrible feeling of nausea from punching Charles in his aching guts when he catches the sight of blood. It isn’t just a little bit of blood, either — there’s enough blood splattered against the grass and stone to indicate that something had happened here, something bad.

The man wants to chalk it up to an animal’s death, but he knows that this isn’t the case. Not when he sees the imprint of boots against the dirt when he approaches. And the smell — it’s strong and sudden, and although Charles has been among his fair share of bodies of friends and family that he’s had to bury, it doesn’t stop the instinctive urge to gag. A hand lifts to his mouth and nose, and it takes the man a moment to recompose himself as he looks in the direction of the scent.

He knows what’s waiting for him around the corner, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. Charles stays perfectly still as he regains his composure and sense of gravity, even though his mouth feels terribly dry and he can already feel his grief threatening to re-expose itself. It takes every fiber of his being to muster the courage to continue forward, to make the turn around the giant boulder and let his gaze drift toward a heartbreaking sight.

A body is laid only a few feet away from him, and he knows exactly who it is. Charles would recognize that frame anywhere, even if the person is now far more still than he has ever been previously, than he ever should be. He would know Arthur’s form from anywhere, he spent far too much time watching and observing the man — taking notice of his every little tick and quirk. When Charles musters the willpower to come closer, his heart aches at the sight of disheveled, bloodied and dirtied clothes. He had fought to the very end.

Arthur’s face is what truly makes Charles want to wail like a child. His skin is pale and bruised, the familiar bags still residing underneath his now completely dull, glassy eyes — no longer is Charles greeted by a familiar blue tinged with shades of greens and yellows, but he’s staring back at something foggy and unclear. The bruises that stain Arthur’s face make him nearly unrecognizable, but Charles would know the man from anywhere and everywhere, no matter how marred his appearance became. His flawed but perfect nose is once again crooked, indicating that it had been snapped before his death. Charles can even see the starting signs of decomposition, bits of flesh now gone to reveal the body underneath. The sight of Arthur is grief-inducing.

But the worst part of it all is how goddamn peaceful Arthur looks. His eyes are half-lidded and his head is tilted toward the sky, his lips stained red with his own blood only partially opened. It reminds Charles of waking up beside the man in the morning, on the very rare occasion that Arthur wouldn’t be awake before him. But even in his sleep, he had never looked fully at rest. Charles knew that no matter what, something weighed heavy upon the man’s shoulders, an invisible burden that no one, not Charles, not Eliza, could lift off of Arthur. Only death could do such a thing now.

He can’t help the shuddering breath that he takes in, the way that his eyebrows furrow before a quiet sob racks his body, the sound itself muffled by his large hand against his mouth. Charles can’t bring himself to move and pick up the man just yet, and instead allows himself to finally mourn his loss. The sight of Arthur is a slap to the face from reality, letting it settle in and dawn upon him officially that the brunette man is in fact gone. Charles will never see him again, not after burying him properly. The man doesn’t deserve to be laid here, discarded like crow food.

When Charles had regained some semblance of his natural calmness, he had carried Arthur to Taima. It wasn’t easy, even with Arthur’s illness reducing him to a ghost of his former self. He was still a big man nevertheless, and the ache that placing his body on the back of Taima had caused in Charles’ chest made everything so much harder. But the man was successful in carrying him, and further successful in riding Taima somewhere suitable for burial.

It was a pretty spot that he had found. Somewhere small and secluded, but allowed a nice overlook to the miles of countryside and landscape that resided in front of the now midday sky. While the terrain itself was still rocky and somewhat hard to navigate, it would only ensure that only the people that Arthur would want present at his grave could approach. There were even perfectly placed rocks in the exact spot that Charles had wanted to place the man, rocks that would act as a makeshift gravestone and support the sign that the man had felt determined to place.

Digging the hole was not an easy task. While Charles had made sure to pack the correct equipment for this excursion before he had departed, spending hours bent over, shoveling dirt from the earth to eventually put back into place, over his closest companion was both emotionally and physically taxing. But Charles refused to take a break, dissatisfied with the idea of leaving Arthur unburied longer than he needed to. Even as tears threatened to sting his eyes again, and his hands burned with how hard he gripped onto the wooden handle underneath his gloved skin as he continued pulling up more and more dirt.

Eventually, he was satisfied with his handiwork and was able to place Arthur into the grave made for him. This time, Charles couldn’t help the silent tears that began to roll down his face as he began to cover the man with the soil and dirt that he had previously dug up. He allowed himself this moment of grief but refused to stop his work. Not until he was satisfied that Arthur had received the final treatment that he had deserved. A proper burial, with a proper grave marker — not a burial where he would be left to the animals and nature.

That does make Charles wonder, though — was Arthur alone when he died? Was he afraid, wanting someone to hold his hand, to be present for him? Or was he ready for the embrace of the Reaper? Arthur had seemed uncertain, afraid , when the two had their discussion about his illness. Even if Arthur didn’t voice these feelings, these thoughts, Charles was certain that it was how he had felt. He could only really hope that his words had brought some sort of peace to Arthur in his final moments, an assurance that he did the best that he could.

Maybe Arthur didn’t think he deserved to rest when Charles felt that he certainly did. The man’s line of thought is paused, however, as he stares down at a pile of dirt that now completely covers Arthur. The grave has been dug and built successfully — the next step is to make the gravestone marker, with the wood that the man had brought with him. It’s almost as hard as burying the man, to etch his name into the wood and be reminded of the days that they had spent together, making tiny, intricate carvings into wood pieces that Charles had brought as he tried to pry into Arthur’s emotions.

Whether that communication of his emotions was via carving wood or actually using his words, Charles never minded. That was because Arthur would look at ease by the end of their session, his shoulders hunched instead of tensed, his posture relaxed instead of on edge. Arthur would look in his direction and a silent thank you would be shared between the pair via one look cast to one another.

The words come to him naturally, after he’s finished with Arthur’s name. He isn’t quite sure how they come to him, but they certainly fit the man and everything that Charles had known for him to stand for:

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.

Burying Arthur had been a task that felt hard, impossible, even. The weight of the duty leaves Charles' body aching for release and freedom from the hard work as he finishes hammering in the wooden grave marker, his eyes carefully roaming the wood and freshly placed dirt for any sign of imperfection. The least that he could offer Arthur after everything was the best, after all. But when he’s finished and determined that there are no flaws, that this is in fact the perfect resting place for Arthur, that’s when Charles finally allows himself to bend down and grieve.

Hunched forward and squatted in a position that calls for bending his knees, he carefully places his elbows against his legs before resting his head in his hands. A hand lifts to run through his hair as the tears begin, and this time, he doesn’t stop them. He doesn’t try to blink them away, or ignore the horrible ache in his chest, the dull throb now sharpened to something that feels akin to a knife being dug into an open flesh wound. Although his grief is loud, his sobs are silent against the still dusk air.

Charles couldn’t tell anyone how long he had been sitting there, simply sobbing over Arthur’s grave to the point that his chest hurt and his shoulders ached with the force that his sobs shook his body with. But he could tell you that the moon had made her way into the sky with the stars by the time that his sobs had been forced to a halt, his eyes red and aching — unable to release any more of his emotional turmoil. Charles could tell you that he stood up on shaky, numb legs, and had to tuck his jacket closer to his person to try and shake the bite of the cold wind.

He could also tell any other living soul that as he was finally making his departure from Arthur’s grave, he was cut short by a large deer. A buck, to be exact. The animal stood a few feet away from him, his head lifted from the grass that he had previously been grazing upon. The pair stared at each other, both equally stunned by the presence of the other being in front of them. Eventually, the buck was the first one to move. But he didn’t move at the pace that Charles would expect a startled animal to, he simply… Turned and walked away, slow and delicate.

But the man would keep such information to himself, doubtful as he mounted Taima that another living soul would believe in his retelling of his final encounter with Arthur.

#rdr2 #rdr2 au #rdr2 fanfic #john marston #charthur #charles smith x arthur morgan #arthur morgan #charles smith #rdr2 oc #red dead fandom #rdr2 community #cw: dead body #cw: grieving #cw: death #rdr2 writing #peach writes #cowboys 🤠

19 notes · View notes

bigtedbear · 2 months ago

Note

Idk if 🧅 anon has a request/prompt set on now but I GOT YOU FELLOW ANON!!

Ik my dear author doesn't like infidelity, so here we go. I serve you: Unrequited Love.

Imagine being always there for Neuvilette? Being his best friend since highschool, and being there even when you guys are adults. Everyone knows Reader Likes Neuvi, and Neuvi is too oblivious to see that.

A lot of people mistake them for a couple, even Neuvilettes' parents did.

Reader and Neuvilette both are prodigies in their own field of talent (idk if I used the term prodigy right...) and both are part of very elite families. And since they're both so close together, maybe it won't be so bad if they (parents) set a little proposal for both of them?

When Reader got the news, he couldn't even contain his joy as he immediately said yes of course, and started daydreaming about the marriage. He forgot that the marriage wasn't even built by love, and didn't know that his approval was the reason why Neuvis rejection was deemed irrelevant.

For that, Neuvi became distant and grew to hate Reader who was now his husband. Neuvi had a thought that he(Reader) was the reason why he couldn't continue with his dreams anymore, that he was a fallen eagle who could have sore high above. But being married to the reader reduced the media's image to him as nothing but a “Male Wife”

For years Reader and Neuvi never communicated, and both suffered from the marriage. The reader tried to make it work but nothing ever changed. It wasn't until he saw Neuvi being happy, laughing with another man, something he has never seen Neuvi do ever since they got married— Wrio was his name, reader heard — he realized that he should let go, that it could never work between them two, specially if he was the only one that gave his all, that gave his love.

Besides, it was his fault why Neuvi was unhappy. He thought about it long and hard, and finally told Neuvi to sign the divorce but there was a condition: “Let's treat each other like we're really married for a month before we part.”

And so Neuvi and Reader got lovey dovey for a month, with Neuvi actually falling. Reader on the other hand, thought that Neuvi was just giving it all, like an act, or maybe for pity. Their little agreement had to be paused after Reader had to go for a business trip, and Reader met the love of his life (alhaitham 😘😘😘😋😋😋‼️‼️⁉️⁉️) who made him feel better, healed, and reader found genuine connection with that person.

The person made him feel like it was okay to let go, that everything will be okay even if Neuvi has left, that it's better to stop chasing after someone who will never love you back.

“stop forcing love to make people love you back.”

And so he did, when reader got home, he looked like a different person, he no longer looked tired and held that sad smile on his face. Neuvi felt uneasy, when reader asked Neuvi for a talk in the living room. The words “im sorry, I love you, and thank you” were given to him, as Reader asked for sincere apologies and told Neuvi that it was okay if he signs now, because he knew Neuvi deserves better.

Reader mentioned the person he met, the person who helped him to settle his storm inside. How he made him happy, and how lovely he was.

It rained, it rained very hard that time and Neuvi signed. He was finally free, but at what cost? He finally realizes, he was in love — but was too late to say it. You were already in love with another, it's okay. He understands.

—🪷

As much as I love this request, I will have to humbly decline

NOT BECAYSE ITS BAD but because our sweet 🧅 has already submitted a request and id like to keep my last slot open for something non-Neuvillette because i fear he seems to be all that i write for 🙏

#✆ 𝗼𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝗼𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝗼𝐭𝐞𝐬

9 notes · View notes

mossy-thing · 1 month ago

Text

We're drunk but drinking (sunk but sinking)

I wrote a thing! A... A while ago... (For whumptober 2023, prompts (Betrayal / touch aversion / "Leave me alone"). I know I'm late.) Read it here or on AO3!

Characters: Maedhros, Turgon

Important tags: Post-Rescue from Thangorodrim, Recovery, Grief/Mourning, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Threats of Violence

On his sick bed, late at night, Maitimo receives an unexpected visitor.

"Do you even know how lucky you are?"

The words were quiet, but spat out sharply enough that Maitimo flinched awake nearly immediately, blinking into the dark to try and make out the shape at his bed, his heart pounding in his ears.

He couldn't tell whether it was night or day, as usual, for the curtains in the small room were dark, heavy, and always drawn. There had been neither moon nor sun on Thangorodrim, and nothing but stars for years before his capture. His eyes had grown sensitive like those of an orc. For a moment, claws wrapped around his jaw at that thought, and a voice, high like a poor imitation of bells, hummed, "Would you look at that, their light is already fading," but then the shape at his bed spoke again, and the phantom vanished.

"If I had been in my brother's place, if an eagle had been sent to fly me up to you, I would have granted your wish before you could have expressed it. And I would not have hesitated."

"Turukáno."

The secondborn of Nolofinwë lifted his head from where it had rested on his knees and looked at him. The mingling light of Telperion and Laurelin burned as bright as ever in his eyes, and Maitimo looked away. He had not asked Findekáno for a mirror. He was not sure what he would do if Sauron hadn't been lying.

"You're awake." Turukáno seemed surprised, swaying slightly in his seat. "Good."

Maitimo shifted to sit up, and was pushed back onto the covers before his arms had the chance to tremble under the weight of his own body. His cousins' hand burned hotter on his skin than a branding iron from the depths of Angband, and he felt bitten nails digging into his bandaged shoulder.

"Don't you fucking move," Turukáno growled, and Maitimo felt the last bit of colour vanish from his face as he desperately tried not to slip back onto the dirty floor of a dark cell, where very different hands had held him in place.

"Let go of me," he tried, his voice thin as a thread ready to snap, and his cousin laughed. He was leaning forward, above him, a dark shape, the details slowly working into place. His braids were half undone, and his breath smelled sickly sweet and heavy.

"Why did they send one for you," he slurred, the words piercing through the fog of building panic like a dagger, and Maitimo brought his hand up to push him away, but Turukáno only gripped tighter, shaking him slightly. "What did you do to deserve their help? What makes you better than –"

Maitimo stilled. He had heard of Turukáno’s loss, but only in passing, in the whispered conversations of healers when they thought him asleep, in the quiet “And now that Itarillë is without her mother”, that had been uttered by Findekáno the one time he had spoken of the Ice, after Maitimo’s long asking. He had expected that his cousin would grieve, of course he had. He had not expected him to grieve before him, and even less with such vigour.

Fingers, scarred by frost and slightly discoloured were sinking into Maitimo's paper thin skin, and he could not help but gasp in pain. The dying light of his eyes reflected sharply on Turukáno's teeth as he pulled his lips back in a snarl.

“You shouldn't be here,” he growled, his breath hitting Maitimo like a whip, “None of you should be here. I curse the day you and your ilk landed on these shores, and I curse Uinen’s mercy."

“I do not think,” Maitimo whispered, his voice barely audible, “that eagle truly came for me.”

For a moment or two, Turukáno wordlessly stared at him, then he scoffed, released him so suddenly that Maitimo flinched and stood up, swaying stronger, now.

“Does it really matter,” he asked bitterly, “whom it wished to save?”

He pushed the wooden door open, letting the blinding moonlight which illuminated the corridor spill inside and flashing a cruel smile at his cousin, who flinched away from it, covering his sensitive eyes, then he left him alone, leaving only the smell of alcohol behind. And as the door was shut once more, the only light for a long while was the one spilling forth undiminished from Maitimo's pinprick pupils.

#my writing #maedhros #turgon #Silmarillion #i absolutely adore a dynamic where neither character is unjustified in their motivations #if i were Turgon #I would loathe the hell out of every single Fëanorian #whumptober 2023

7 notes · View notes

vilandel · 7 months ago

Text

What I Never Knew I Always Wanted

Summary A happy family, a loving and amazing wife, two adorable daughters, all three of them stealing his heart and it felt like a wish came true for him.

What I never knew I always wanted…

A/N First oneshot of my Black Clover Next Gen Series is here, hooray! @kalolasfantasyworld, in case you also need some fluff after the Paper Hearts chapter you posted today 💜 This Oneshot was inspired by Carrie Underwoods amazing song What I Never Knew I Always Wanted, a song I love and which is one of my favorites to listen while I'm writing my Next Gen Series. For the countryside castle of the Silvas, I ended up picturing one of my favorite castles, one of the Loire Castles in France, Azay-le-Rideau. I visited it with my family last year and immediately fell in love with it, so don't be surprised that in my mind, this is how the Silva castle in the countryside looks like:

(@f-oighear, you are French, do you maybe know that one?)

Ao3 link

♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣

Nozel woke up immediately when he heard one of his daughters cry. Without even caring about what time it was – middle of the night was all he noticed and even only barely – he immediately pushed his blanket away.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, he glanced quickly at Vanessa who was still sleeping. Nozel hesitated to wake her up. What if Nymphea or Valentina were just hungry and she would need breastfeed them? She would need to wake up in this case. But at the same time, Vanessa was in her postpartum period. Pregnancies and giving birth were never easy task and she gave birth to twins. Nozel made sure that his wife could rest as much as she could and helped here as much as he could, to take care of the babies, to ease her burden and to also to take care of her.

Heck, unusual for him, Nozel took a few days off from work and took his family away from the capital, which also meant away from nobility and their disgusting curiosity. It was a miracle that they didn’t dare to step out of the authorized visit area in the Silva Palace. Although… said miracle was probably either Nebra and Zora talking them down or Rosette making sure to make them believe that leaving the Silvas and the newborn princesses alone would be beneficial for said nobles interest.

Nozel, Vanessa and their twin daughters went to the Silva Castle in the countryside, as they could be sure that no noble would come bother them there. Except maybe for occasional marriage proposals – already, Nymphea and Valentina weren’t even three weeks old! – from desperate nobles. But well, those would land in the fire anyway.

Nozel didn’t thought that he would have come back to the Silva Castle one day, not after what happened with his mother and the curse… But after years of lonely pain, he was able to still heal and move on from his trauma, he allowed himself happiness, he fell in love and became a father.

Somehow, it had been the time to give new, happier memories to this place. And it was perfect for Vanessa to rest.

And for having family moments, just the four of them.

Nozel had no idea how much he always wished for this until he got it finally…

His daughter was still crying and deciding to let Vanessa having well-deserved sleep, Nozel stood up, feeling a bit heavy because of sleep and walked over to the crib. It was Valentina who was crying, Nymphea was still sleeping, her eagle plushie right next to her.

Softly, Nozel bowed down a bit and cupped softly Valentinas chubby cheek. “What is it, hatchling?”

It was just a whisper, but his daughter seemed to have heard him, as she opened her eyes. Her cries didn’t stop, but she was reaching her tiny hands towards him. Nozel didn’t know if babies could have nightmares already but one thing was sure, Valentina needed comfort right now.

So, Nozel took Valentina in his arms, cradling his baby and sat down on the rocking chair. How many times has he done this when Noelle still was a baby, while mother was slowly dying and even after her death? How many times has he seen his mother do this when Nebra and Solid had been that small? How many times must she have done this when he was still a baby?

Too many times to count. But Nozel remembered what his mother did. So, first thing he did to calm down Valentina a bit, was to blow a soft kiss on her forehead.

“It’s alright, Valentina… Whatever is scaring you, it will never reach you. Your mother and me would never allow any harm on you. It is normal to be scared. Trust me, I was scared many times in my life already. It is not a bad thing, though. Without fear, you can’t be brave. You just need to remember that you can always count on others. I forgot that during my worst times and I couldn’t to anyone. This will never happen to you and your sister, I promise that. You are my daughters, I need to protect you.”

Cradling Valentina and rocking her, Nozel continued to whisper her comforting things. It didn’t matter that she didn’t understood those things yet. He still meant every word. Just like his mother did.

Nozel wanted to be a good father for his daughters. Even before Vanessa got pregnant, he feared already that he wouldn’t be one. He never got a proper father figure growing up and his own father was one of the worst example he could ever think of. Lac Silva never was a father, just the conceiver and his children were only chess pieces in his eyes. As his son, wouldn’t Nozel end up like him?

Vanessa, Fuegoleon and his Vermillion aunt made sure to help him overcome his fears. It certainly wasn’t an easy task, knowing who he was. They reminded him again and again that while he never got a prime example with his father, he still got a wonderful parental figure to look up to.

His mother…

Yes, this was the kind of parent Nozel wanted to become, deep down. He never truly realized it until it was told to him. And while the fear of becoming like his own father still remained a bit, it wasn’t as strong as before. Nozel still hoped that, as a parent, he was more like his mother and nothing like his father.

Valentinas cries calmed down slowly. She was the louder one of the twins, but just as easy to comfort. Nozel remembered how difficult it had been with Nebra, Solid and Noelle. His aunt and his mother even more always told him that out of his siblings, he had been the only calm baby. Given how loud his siblings were as babies, Nozel had difficult time to imagine that he hadn’t been as loud as them, but at the same time, he had no reason to not believe his mother and his aunt.

“Better now?” he whispered, still rocking his daughter. Valentina stopped crying, but there were still some little tears shining in her amethyst eyes. The same eyes as Vanessa… It was such a wonderful colour. The most beautiful he knew and Nozel was grateful his twins got their mother’s eyes.

Valentina let out a soft babble and reached her tiny hands towards him. Like always when she wanted to grab his braid, one of her favourite things to do. It made Nozel smiled with amusement.

“Sorry that I don’t have my braid, but I don’t sleep with it. It will be back in the morning, don’t worry.”

“Ba?”

Nozel smiled, a wave of love and affection washing over his heart. Valentina was incredibly adorable, Nymphea as well. Wasn’t it a miracle that after all of his mistakes, he was still blessed with two wonderful daughters?

A happy family, a loving and amazing wife, two adorable daughters, all three of them stealing his heart and it felt like a wish came true for him.

What I never knew I always wanted…

Another small cry suddenly came out of the crib. Nozel sighed as he looked up, a tired smile on his lips. Now Nymphea was also awake and from the sound of it, it wasn’t because she had a bad dream like her twin, but more that she was hungry. Which means that he needed to wake Vanessa up. Would his beloved wife have a full night sleep again, one day soon? She deserved it so much.

But their daughters also needed to be taken care of.

Before he could stand up though, Vanessa already woken up, sitting on the edge of the bet. She was yawning in such an adorable, wearing one of his undershirts and combing her hair, slightly messed up from the sleep, in an absent way.

Even in that state, Vanessa was beautiful. The most beautiful woman Nozel knew…

“You’re ogling again, honey,” Vanessa grumbled, but he could hear in her voice that she was smiling. Did she realized what she was doing to his heart?

“I can’t help it. My wife is wonderful.”

“Aw, I love when you think so highly of me. You should do this a bit more with yourself as well. Okay, need to feed Nymphea now. Oh, Valentina is awake too? Honey, you could have wake me up.”

“But you need and deserve to rest.”

Vanessa just shook her head with a tired smile, before she got Nymphea out of the crib and went back to the bed, pushing the fabric of the shirt aside so that she could breastfeed her daughter. Nozel joined her, Valentina still in his arms.

“Honey, I’m really grateful that you do so much to help me after the birth and with taking care of our griffins. Having some days off in this countryside manor was an excellent idea. It’s not only me who needed that, but also you. Nozel, you’re doing so much that I often have the feeling that you’re almost most exhausted than I am. And I was the one who went through pregnancy and who gave birth.”

“This is why I’m doing it.”

“I know. I also know that you still have doubts about being a good father. But you don’t need to have doubts about yourself. We both know that you had this way too much in your life. You are a wonderful father, Nozel. A parent like your mother was. And you are also a wonderful husband.”

Vanessa smiled at him before lying her head on his shoulder. “All the things you’re doing for me and our daughters is a proof of that. I feel so blessed to have you right now. I know that I have many people to help me, but your help is the most precious to me.”

Nozel felt like he was about to cry, he was so touched by her words. Did she realized how much this meant to him? He was still unsure about so many things about himself, but hearing his beloved wife telling him this, trusting him, feeling blessed to have him, being grateful… After all those years in the cold of his guilt, he never realized how soothing it was that someone felt like this towards him.

“Vanessa, I…”

“I know, it means the world to you. I know that you’re not completely used it yet and that you’re surprised how soothing it is to you. Honestly, I feel the same way. I never knew I would always wanted what we have today… But here we are. And look how sweet our daughters are. Yes, Valentina, you and Nymphea are so adorable.”

“Ba!”

Vanessa giggled as their baby responded and Nozel couldn’t help but join her. Despite their exhaustion and every difficulty coming at the start of parenthood, they were still happy. Even with all the difficulties, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

He really came a long way if he was thinking like this today.

Nozel watched how Vanessa made Nymphea burb after she finished to drink, before cradling the baby in her arms, rocking her softly.

“We can be grateful that they’re not the loudest babies, especially our little water lily here. They deserve their sleep.”

“You too…”

“Hm… right back at you. How about some cuddles after we put our griffins to bed?”

Nozel smiled, nodding. Vanessa loved to cuddle and he got fond of them after all the time spent with her. It took some time before Nymphea and Valentina fell asleep. But after putting their sleeping twins back into the crib, Vanessa snuggled against him as close as he could and Nozel hold her as if there was no tomorrow.

“I love you, Nozel.”

“I love you too, Vanessa. I’m so grateful… to have you and our daughters. Maybe I always wished for that deep down…”

They fell asleep soon after, after a kiss, exhausted but happy.

#Black Clover #Black Clover Fanfiction #Black Clover OC #Black Clover Next Gen ♣️💘#My Writing ☘️♣️#My Black Clover OC ☘️#Nozel Silva #Vanessa Enoteca #Nymphea Silva #Valentina Silva #Nozel x Vanessa #Nozessa #Domestic Fluff

14 notes · View notes