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juminly · 4 years

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Love Written in The Stars

Summary: When Leonardo only thought that he would look after you as a guardian, as a friend. He never expected to fall so deeply in love with you. Matchup story written for @meverilan.

Note from Leonardo: “I dedicate this song to you, mi amore. It made me think of you and I hope you enjoy it and always know, you are more than enough to me.” - You are Enough by Sleeping at Last.

You were very lucky to find yourself in the mansion at a time where most of the residents were out and about except for a few. Arthur was in the city, playing detective; Vincent was in the gardens, painting away; Theo was doing some gallery scouting; Napoleon had managed to forcefully convince Jean to join him in teaching the orphans in the city some self-defense.

Comte always takes it upon himself to take good care of his guests and he always ensures to do so. Thoroughly. There’s also the fact that Sebastian also acts as his sharp eyes and ears so you had two guardian angels watching over you from the moment you arrived, without you even knowing it. While Comte showed you around, you discovered all the historical figures that were living in the mansion. It was all too surreal and daunting but obviously, you still managed to plaster a smile on your face.

While walking through the hallways with Comte, you heard a low husky voice calling out to him. “Didn’t you have something important to attend to, Mr. Le Comte?”

What was this tall man (quite respectfully flirtatious man, if I may add) talking about? Comte actually had something to attend to and he put it on hold and disregarded it because he wanted to be there for you. (Isn’t he just the perfect gentleman? Come on…)

The vampire had called you “a refreshing beauty”[in Italian] the moment he saw and the blush on your face didn’t go unnoticed. That was enough for him to register the fact that you were quite a shy one, in his mind.

Leo is quite the observant type and empathetic, so just a few glances at you, he was able to take a few mental notes on you [and they were 99.9% accurate, most of the time, if not, all the time]. He also noticed the slight wavering in your eyes that indicated that you didn’t truly believe what he said.

[Men had a way of whispering sweet nothings into people’s ears, only to use them as a means to an end. Was he that type? You didn’t really know him so you couldn’t tell, but it didn’t mean that these thoughts didn’t/wouldn’t cross your mind.]

Leonardo came to the rescue, sweeping in and picking up where he basically persuaded Comte to leave because whatever business he had was important and his best friend knew. After introducing himself to you, the Italian polymath took over and that’s where your story began.

At first, the smell of his cigarillo was quite strong but it had an inconspicuous sweetness to it that was quite delightful. He asked you if you were bothered by it, not knowing if you would be or not, since he found your eyes focused on the smoke he puffed from his lips. The scent was oddly comforting and added some sort of mysterious and alluring coat to his aura.

As you wandered the mansion with him, Leonardo took it upon himself to give you a thorough briefing about the residents, not that you didn’t know of them, but interacting with historical figures was a completely different story and he knew that (especially when they were all vampires).

He was able to get your attention by promising to let you in on the biggest secret of the entire mansion (after your tour ended). Even Sebastian didn’t know this secret.

The location of Theo’s stash of sweets was the biggest mystery in the mansion and Leo was the only person, aside from Theo, who knew where it was (and the younger Van Gogh was unaware of this fact). [Best ice-breaker ever!]

That man was probably the biggest sweet-tooth beast of Paris. Leonardo probably said something along those lines and it kinda reminded you of the cookie monster, which made you giggle when you met Theodorus for the first time, a day later (and the man was awfully confused and did not understand why you reacted the way you did).

Being part of the rowdy breakfast with the other residents was sometimes a little bit too much to take and draining as well, since a lot would be happening at the same time but it was a great opportunity for you to observe and understand more about the residents, piecing together the information that Leo had given you with your surroundings.

Arthur was his usual flirtatious self and getting on his bestie’s (Theo, obviously) nerves. Their banter was joined by the commentary of Dazai, the annoyance of Mozart and Isaac and Vincent, the angelic presence whose smile managed to brighten up your day almost instantly. Since you were the new person around, they couldn’t really hold back on all their questions to you, which was actually pretty overwhelming for you.

Leonardo was always there for you though, stopping them in their tracks whenever things became a little too much for you. [and this did not escape Arthur’s attention. He has a keen eye for human behaviour, being a former physician and he had vast knowledge about how the human body worked and coupled with his analytical side that came with being a writer].

You hadn’t given Leonardo any indication about how you felt or how you were but he didn’t have to. From the first few days, Leonardo became the closest person to you and you assumed that it was because he looked after you, the way he would with a little sister. He could only imagine how hard it was to be thrown in the past, into the unknown.

So when you confided in him and told him about having ADD, he simply nodded while you talked, giving you the space and time to explain whatever you were comfortable in telling him. He respects your boundaries and was fine with whatever you were able to tell you. He didn’t push for more. When you were done talking, he smiled and told you how he was curious to know about you and he wanted to make your time in the past, as pleasant as possible [until you had to go back to the present].

It was a vow that he declared to you, with the purest intentions. He was a pureblood after all, each and every human he came across was worth admiring and you were definitely one of them. Why did he think that way? He knew that you were shying away in an invisible cocoon and he was standing right outside of it, his hand outstretched, just for you to take it. Every second, every minute, every hour of a human’s life counted and he wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t regret not having done anything whatsoever during the time you had in Paris.

The more time you spent in the mansion though, you became a little more acquainted with the residents and felt a bit more comfortable around them, as they became a part of your daily life. Living in the same mansion made you all like roommates and somehow, they all looked out for you like you were family.

Being a jack of all trades, most of the residents looked up to Leonardo as someone they could rely on, to go to when in need. He had such a carefree and laid back attitude, which made him approachable by all and many. You noticed that, not only with the residents, but also the townspeople.

Leonardo had told Vincent about a beautiful land he had discovered while wandering the outskirts of Paris one day and decided to organize a trip to spark the painter’s muse. Leo obviously invited you to come along and it was definitely a relaxing and insightful outing. You had the chance to watch, none other than THE Vincent Van Gogh, paint so masterfully, while being surrounded by the most beautiful of views in all of France: a large field of greenery, with tulips and daffodils.

It was like staring into a canvas, created by nature and Vincent wasn’t the only one that felt inspired. Leonardo brought along a drawing notebook just for you, where he gave you tips and instructions on how to go about sketching and analyzing the overall form of your sketch subjects before looking into the more intricate details.

He was an amazing teacher, his instructions were simple yet very clear and concise. He also gave you constructive feedback, even leaning in to adjust parts of your sketches while holding your hand, the sweet scent of his cigarillo would fill your nostrils, almost distracting you completely from your task. And even if it did, Leonardo would chuckle and tease you, bringing your attention back to the task at hand with a kiss on your hand.

The first time he did that, you couldn’t help but be completely surprised and taken aback. But you knew that he wasn’t the type to try to take advantage of you or anything, so you would laugh it out and throw in a sarcastic remark, which only made the vampire boom with laughter [which, if I may be frank, is such a wonderful sound, you wouldn’t be able to resist not laughing along with him].

That outing was more lengthy than you thought it would be and you ended up staying out until late at night, when Vincent was inspired by the night view of another area which you happened to cross while heading back to the mansion.

You were immediately captivated by the clear night sky, the stars twinkling and inviting you to simply marvel at them. And that only prolonged your time together even more. And right then and there, a new ritual was created.

For 12 consecutive nights, Leonardo recounted to you the story behind each horoscope and where their stars were located, telling you about the tales from Roman and Greek myths and started with the story of Scorpio and the Greek myth of Orion, the son of Posiedon and Euriale.

He didn’t mind repeating himself as many times as he had to and was not bothered by it, one tiny bit. If you flooded him with questions, he would answer each and every single one of them. Leo was not the type to get annoyed at all so you were always relaxed and comfortable around him.

He loved seeing the expression on your face as it lit up as the information and inspiration would sink in. Knowledge was a beautiful thing in itself, but it was even more beautiful when shared with others. With Leo, it was oddly intimate, especially with the mix of emotions that came with interacting with him.

Your night escapades of tales of myth and astrology (and art, because Vincent would sometimes join to do some painting) became even more interesting when Isaac began to join you as well. He looked up to Leonardo as a mentor and often wanted to dig and dive into the man’s brain. He was a genius of his time yet so humble about it.

Isaac would bring his telescope with him and give you an even better view of the stars blinking at you from the wide dark skies. Astrology was also one of his interests and despite being known for always wanting to be alone, the man secretly liked sharing his interests with those who were genuinely fascinated by it.

Soon after, Isaac also became close to you. He felt comfortable around you and just like Leonardo, didn’t mind it when you asked him questions or when he had to explain things to you that could be a little bit difficult to understand. [Leo was also there to translate since he would sometimes use overcomplicated terms]

Isaac was quite fond of you, especially when you would ask Arthur and Dazai to stop teasing him about apples. The physicist obviously told you that he didn’t really need you to stick up for him but he was definitely pleased about it, the hint of a smile touching his thin lips.

If you ever got a panic attack with Leonardo around, he would wrap his arms around you from behind, lacing his fingers with yours and placing your hands over your heart. Whenever you cried, he would be there with you until you cried it all out. Whenever you shook, he would be there to hold you together and find your center of gravity.

He never made you feel restricted, his hold was always loose so you didn’t feel suffocated. He offered you the comfort and the solace you needed without you having to ask him for it and would speak to you so softly, almost crooning, telling you all the words, all the things that you needed to hear, as if he could read your mind. He could tell that you were often very hard on yourself and he was prepared to remind you, time and time again, as many times as needed that… you are and will always be enough, just the way you are.

Towards the end of the month, everyone was suddenly counting down the days until you would leave. Nobody mentioned it but you could definitely feel it in the air, sense it in their gaze. Some of them actually asked you to stay but in the end, it was all up to you. You had already made up your mind but something deep down made you hesitate. Lots of emotions were building up inside of you and yet, you still managed to draw a smile on your face. However, you weren’t really fooling anyone.

The residents had planned a farewell party in your honour, a few days before the door would open again. Comte had arranged for you something to wear on that evening and you were more than flattered at the gesture. The man never missed a single detail and made sure that you always felt welcomed, even when you were leaving. As did Leonardo.

Leonardo came to find you, to escort you to the party only to open the door to your bedroom, his heart clenching hard in his chest at the sight of your tears.

You were crying your eyes out and he couldn’t think of any reason why you would cry. Maybe you were afraid of going back to your time? Going through the door?

He asked you whether there was something that bothered you in the design of the clothes that you were wearing. He noticed you were looking down at yourself, fisting the fabric hard in your hands. That was when you discovered that he designed the apparel just for you, to your exact liking, which made you cry harder.

When you told him that there was no issue with the clothes, they were perfect and beautiful, tailored, stitched and created just for you.

Leo: Cara mia, if it upsets you, you do not have to wear it. I promise, you would look beautiful in anything you wear. You: No, that’s not true. Look at me! How could you even say that? Leo: Lan… I am looking at you, cara mia. I have been looking at you ever since you arrived and you are absolutely and utterly divine.

You: Don’t say that just to flatter me. Please. I don’t need lies.

Leo: If I could give you my eyes so you could see through them, then, I definitely would. Unfortunately, I am not physically capable of doing that but I have something else in mind. You’re coming with me, Lan.

Before you even had the chance to say anything, he took your hand and whisked you away, finding yourself in his room. Letting you sit on his bed, he handed you a notebook and asked you to open it. They were all sketches of you and you couldn’t believe your eyes. You went through them one by one and realized that Leonardo was no liar and he proved it to you. As you looked up at him, he cradled your face in his hands and laid the lightest of kisses on your lips. He didn’t have to say anything. The notebook and that kiss were more than enough to show how much he loved you.

He would also come up with new nicknames for you just because he loved to see you blushy and get flustered (don’t forget all the Italian romance with “mi amore” and “cuore mio” that would literally make you melt with that voice of his). He adored seeing the flush on your cheeks and teased you about wanting to paint them red always, in every single way he can (wink wink).

This man had absolutely no qualms in whispering suggestive notions in your ear whenever you were in public, challenging you and giving you a greater reason to get over with whatever you were doing, so you could relish in the love this man had to offer you.

He is fine with small displays of affection in public, however, not too much of it though. He always holds your hand or had an arm around your shoulders or your waist, keeping you close to him whenever you were out in town. He wouldn’t hesitate to tease you or just simply kiss you whenever he felt like it. However, the different expressions you would make when he would passionately kiss you, the small sighs and whimpers, those were all for him and he didn’t want anyone to hear them or see them.

Whenever he got jealous, you would immediately know it from his eyes and the tone of his voice. He was definitely not the type to let his emotions take over but whenever any other person was being a little too friendly with you, he did not appreciate it. And if you were the one to encourage such behaviour from another, he would have a “discussion” with you about it in the bedroom.

Kisses of affection: he loves to smell your hair and kiss your temple.

NSFW Ahead ~

Your first time, Leonardo would do everything possible to make you as comfortable as possible. How it started? You were cuddling in his room with Lumière and just having a calm night together, just chilling with the candlelight surrounding you as he held you in his arms while you sketched.

He absolutely loves having his hands on you, like almost all the time. He kinda gets clingy like that. You had been at it for a while and the man wanted some attention from his lover so he tickled you, making you laugh your heart and giving him your full attention. He was kinda like a cat, which was actually adorable.

Finding yourself on your back, you were met with his smoldering gaze and he locked your lips in a breathtaking kiss, his hands gliding over your form, making you melt under him. He could feel and see the hesitation in you but he didn’t let it stop him. Why? He knew exactly how to make your worries wither away.

Leo was a vocal lover, not in terms of moaning/groaning (and FYI: he is usually all rough grunts and groans), but in terms of communicating with you when he was intimate with you. He told you every single thing he loved about you, praised you and repeated it, over and over again, etching it into your mind that he saw only you, loved only and wanted/desired nobody but you.

He wanted to know, see and feel all of you so he could show you the depth of his love for you. As he undressed you, he kissed every bit of skin that he would expose, leaving you completely breathless, with unshed tears of happiness burning in your eyes by the time he had you completely naked under him.

He actually had no intentions of taking you that night. He went down on you, making you come multiple times, using those skilled hands of his and that silver tongue (literally and figuratively). It was only when you pleaded to him and told him that you were ready that he gave in, his vampire instincts completely overpowering him, his need to feast on your blood and claim you were the only things he knew, in that moment. He took you slowly and as gently as he could. He could never bear the thought of hurting you.

In the beginning of your intimate relationship, Leonardo was very gentle with you but after a while, he became a little bit more rough with you, but not in a way that was uncomfortable for you. He was experienced enough to know when you were reaching your limit and assessing what you were able to take and what you couldn’t. He is a very attentive lover and is all about making sure you are satisfied before he is. To your dismay, as much as you tried to put him first, he valued your pleasure more than his.

He always made sure that you were thoroughly made loved to/fucked, a physical and emotional reminder that you were his and he wouldn’t think of any other.

What he absolutely loves doing to you: Light bondage. Just tying you up and maybe blindfolding you (only if you were comfortable), heightening your senses. He likes to make you a complete and utter mess, making you unable to talk and after a while, unable to even walk. He’ll have you forget everything in the world and remember only his name.

He talks dirty and it is completely filthy, it has you whimpered and flustered and he just lives to see you like that. He doesn’t play fair and he doesn’t play on doing it anytime soon. Your pleasure is his reward and he’ll tease you by saying that he’s a masochist, and he likes to draw out his own pleasure, and your pleasure is his. (believe me, it’s all worth it in the end)

Places he loved drinking blood from: your neck (especially when he’s making love to you).

Favourite positions: any position that you are most comfortable in. However, he loves seeing you a complete whimpering mess under him. That’s the most beautiful sight to him.

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #ikevamp #matchup #ikemen vampire leo #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp leo #ikevamp leonardo #ikemen series #ikevamp smut #ikevamp fluff #ikevamp matchup #ikemen matchup

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arthurmorgen · 4 years

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To Be Hunted

Prompt: Arthur teaching the reader (his girlfriend) to hunt? - laurenskiee

A/N: This was really supposed to be short and sweet...but yeah. A big thanks to everyone who recommended songs. They really helped me write (recommendations are ALWAYS welcome). Also requests are still open, but I do have a little list, so it may take time. Basically I won't close it until I get overwhelmed. :)

Angst

Words: 5,217

It was late July, and hot as the fire Uncle just crudely pissed beside. Everyone sat miserably waiting for the scouting party to return. Dutch decided it was best to move camps, needing to be closer to some sort of wealth, so the ‘men of the camp’ were out searching for greener pastures. Or really just some place the gang had yet to tap dry.

You had been riding with said gang for the past eight months.

After your life didn’t quite end up as you planned, you kinda stuck with the mindset of: this world is rough so you gotta be tough.

Which really had already built you up too much. In truth you were found walking aimlessly in the Heartlands, after your horse had collapsed, dead.

If it hadn't been for Arthur being kind enough to take you to the gang, who knows where you’d be by now.

The fact was nobody gave damn about you, until he found you.

And you’ve enjoyed your stay for the most part. You had food, a place to sleep, and probably the most beneficial you had constant protection. However, you didn’t want to sound ungrateful or spoiled or anything, but Dutch was very protective of the ladies, and did not want them involved with much of anything. A little pickpocketing here, a little playing a damsel in distress there. But that was really it.

As a general rule he wanted all of you doing the domestic work, while the men got their hands dirty.

He meant it nobly you supposed, but for a woman like yourself, it didn’t sit right. You missed doing things, and going places. Even if it were risky or out of your comfort zone. You just felt like you could do, and perhaps be more.

That was all until you started going steady with Arthur. Then little, by little, you had picked up more responsibilities. Small, unimportant things if you looked at the big picture, but better than cleaning Bill’s soiled union suit.

You mainly helped steal livestock. Always late into the night, and always with Arthur by your side. And on the very rarest of occasions you’ve helped with some homestead robberies. They were a little more intense, and you could tell that they made Arthur a nervous wreck.

He had given you one of his revolvers and had shown you all the basics, but you still weren't great. If practice makes perfect, then how the hell were supposed to learn?

Your thoughts were interrupted as you heard horses and laid your eyes on Arthur leading the group. His freshly cleaned blue shirt was brown with mud and his coat was missing.

They hitched their horses, all looking very irritated, and seemed to be avoiding Arthur’s gaze.

“What the hell happened?” You called out while making your way to them, eyes worriedly searching Arthur for injuries.

“Damn O’driscoll’s.” Arthur stormed past you infuriated. He made his way to his tent and threw his hat onto his bed. Then he kicked the side of his trunk while muttering all kinds of things, then sat down with his hands in his hair, and his elbows resting on his legs.

You were frozen to the spot, not sure what you should or shouldn't do. This was, for sure, uncharted territory. Arthur didn't lose his cool.

Hosea walked up and stood beside you. “We were ambushed. Those damn Irish bastards somehow knew...If it hadn’t been for his quick thinkin’ I reckon we’d all be dead right about now.” He gently patted your shoulder and left you alone.

Your relationship was still pretty new. You’ve known that you’ve liked him since meeting him but it didn’t get serious until a few weeks ago.

And boy did it get serious, fast.

At first he seemed reluctant. He liked you, but you had to keep convincing him that you wanted the relationship. And then, after some questioning, and maybe even an ultimatum, he had told you about Mary and the damage that she’d done...and then, then he told you about Isaac.

You're not saying that you fully understood. You couldn’t, you had never had nor lost a child. But it helped you recognize and understand certain behaviors and tendencies of his. When he’d pull away from you, or why it took him so long to kiss you. Or, sometimes why he needed space. He was, at times, the most self loathing person that you'd ever met. It didn't necessarily hurt your relationship but it did make it, at times very challenging.

It happened the first time, a couple of days after he told you about his son. In a way, the confession freed him. He touched you more, albeit in private, but that was fine by you.

Then he asked if you wanted to take a trip to Strawberry.

You were excited, not having left camp in what felt like months. He bought you dinner, and offered to buy you a new outfit, but you declined. You hoped to soon earn your own money and buy your own clothes. He worked too hard for the gang to waste his money on a dress, when people in the camp were hungry.

He was anxious about something, and you weren't sure what it was until he nervously rubbed the back of his neck and stated that it was getting late, and that he could buy a room if you wanted.

You blushed and nodded ‘yes’ that you wanted to stay. He moved so quickly to pay that he almost tripped over his chair.

He grabbed your hand, his palm was uncharacteristically sweaty, and the other couldn’t stop fidgeting with his collar. As he led you up the stairs into the small yet cozy room.

It was your first time sharing a bed and you were worried it would be awkward. Especially because of how different he was acting.

You both stripped down to your underclothes. He complimented you and told you how beautiful you were. You both got under the covers, you were too worried that you were somehow pressuring him into this.

But in reality he was just waiting for you to make the next move.

The room was cold and Arthur was warm, and before either of you knew it you were snuggled closely, drifting off to sleep.

You woke to the sun creeping in from around the dark drapes. Disoriented at first until you felt his strong arms holding you firm against his body. You turned slightly, just enough to look at his face.

He looked so peaceful, something you weren't used to seeing. Dutch was gonna work him to death. And that was the thought that urged you forward. You softly kissed his brow, and then placed one on either side of his slightly parted mouth.

His eyes opened slowly and when they locked with yours, he could no longer hold himself back. His mouth explored, and his full concentration was solely on you.

The only way to describe that morning was, you, for the first time in your life felt complete.

Ever since your trip to Strawberry your relationship was different. He had developed an appetite that only you could satisfy. He still wasn't keen on public affection, he just wasn't comfortable with all the wondering eyes.

So you were the one that insisted on letting the camp know he was yours. It made you proud, and you knew that deep down Arthur was thankful for your boldness. So you’d grab his hand or reach up to kiss him anytime you felt that he needed it, or whenever you did, it didn't matter who it was in front of.

Though, you were still not sharing a tent. You wanted to, but didn’t want to push him into anything he wasn’t ready for.

That was the imbalance of your relationship. He sometimes wouldn’t talk, and sometimes neither would you.

As you watched him sitting on his cot, you realized that for as long as you've known him, you couldn’t recall ever seeing him like this. You didn’t know what he needed, and you didn’t want to make the wrong move. He truly was fragile. More so than anyone knew, anyone but you.

You slowly walked over to him, his head still hung low. “Arthur, you ok?”

He looked up hesitantly, the untrained eye wouldn't have noticed, but you saw the extra moisture in his eyes.

He plastered on a fake half smile and said “Would you want to go hunting with me tomorrow?”

You were taken aback and felt your eyebrows pinch together. “Arthur?...”

You gasped as he suddenly reached forward and grabbed both of your hands. “I just really think we should go hunting.”

“O..ok. Whatever you want to do tomorrow sounds good to me.” You tried to smile, but you felt it fall flat. Something wasn't right, and you were more than worried about him.

He stood abruptly “Good, we’ll leave first thing in the morning.” He kissed you on the top of your head and pulled you into a fierce hug that almost winded you. Then as quick as it happened, he let go, and walked across the camp to Charles.

You couldn’t sleep. Anxiety found its place in your chest, your breath was short, and your heartbeat felt a few beats quicker.

The hours ticked by slowly until the moon disappeared and the sun lit the sky a soft pink.

You sensed his presence and heard his footsteps, before you heard him gently calling your name. You turned over slowly pretending you had just had a good night's sleep.

He looked fully prepared for the day. Hat and coat were already on, and you looked over to your horses only to see that they both were saddled and ready.

“You about ready to go?”

You stood slowly, feeling probably how you looked, tired. When you studied his features from under the brim of his hat, you noticed that he didn’t look much better.

“Let me change and eat something.”

“Here.” He passed you a can of biscuits.

You looked at him a little angry at his impatience.

“Stew ain’t done yet, and I want to get out of here before Miss Grimshaw gets mad at me for takin’ ya.”

You nodded accepting both the biscuits and the explanation.

You wore your favorite outfit. It was a black buttoned up top with dark jeans that you liked to tuck into your black boots. It matched perfectly with your black hat that had a green ribbon around the base. You liked to call it your ‘outlaw’ uniform, because you always wore it when you were ‘outlawing’ (plus it made you feel badass), but Arthur hated that.

He hated what he felt that he made you into one. He hadn’t though, you would have become one, one way or another, either that or died. It was truly inevitable.

When you met him at your horses, he looked you up and down, a not so subtle frown on his face. He had grown to hate the outfit. It wasn’t that you didn't look great, it was the implications of it.

“I don’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to ruin any of my other clothes.”

He exhaled out of his nose and moved his horse forward, not even waiting for you to mount.

You stroked your horse lovingly, stuck one foot into the stirrups and then swung the other leg over until you were sitting high on his back.

You didn’t rush to catch up to Arthur. If he wanted to ride with you he’d have to slow down to your pace. You were gonna savor every second away from those annoying people you called your family. You weren't going to let his strange mood ruin your fun.

After a few minutes he seemed annoyed that you weren't beside him, so he turned around making a big circle and until you were riding alongside him.

It was then you noticed that he had two bows and what seemed like an excessive amount of arrows. You felt a thrill, more than a little excited to learn something new.

He led you to a spot not too far away from camp, maybe forty five minutes. And if you considered your slow pace, not far at all.

He offered to help you off of your horse, the first sign of your Arthur that you've seen in what felt like a long time. You accepted his hand as he helped you down.

He smiled at you as his hands naturally found your hips. He looked like he wanted to say something but instead he reached behind him and handed you the bow. “Charles made this for ya.”

“For me?” You looked at the dark wood with little vine-like carvings. “Wow, it's so beautiful.”

He swallowed thickly, and his eyes wandered not being able to look at you for too long. “You can thank him when we get back”.

“Oh I definitely will. I’ve always wanted my own bow.”

He looked back to you, the same strange expression on his handsome face.

“We’ll follow the sun a bit.” He pulled out his binoculars and looked ahead. “There’s always deer around these parts.”

“Should I be taking notes?” You were trying to poke fun to lighten the dark mood, but either he didn’t hear the humor in your voice, or maybe he didn't think it was funny.

“Nah, you've got a good memory.”

He then taught you how to hide your horses, but to never hitch them. That way they'd be able to come when you whistled. Which was very important when you had a large animal carcass.

Then he led you, on foot, through some trees, until you came upon an area of dense brush. He crouched and you copied him.

“Alright. Now I’m gonna teach you about tracking.”

You nodded like the diligent student you were. You liked ‘instructor’ Arthur. He was demanding and intense. It turned you on…

“You even listenin’ to me?”

You blushed and ducked your head. “Of course I am.”

“Then what did I just finish sayin’?” He stood, cocked his hips to the side, and then placed both hands on his gun belt.

You stood and tilted your head in an attempt of defiance.. “You were talkin’ about tracking.”

“What about it?”

After your long pause, he grew slightly frustrated. He took off his hat and pulled out his handkerchief to wipe his face and back of his neck. Then he messed with the fold of his hat before placing it back on his head.

He did the action to calm himself down. You suspected that it stopped him from fussing at you.

“Look, if you ain’t gonna take this seriously…”

“I want to learn.”

“Ok then.” He went on to explain how to track, and all the things you could find that animals left behind. Fur, droppings, and all kinds of fun stuff like that.

After tracking for a few minutes, he found a trail. He expertly followed it, speaking lowly, but still giving you plenty of pointers along the way.

Then he looked back at you and brought one finger to his lips. You quietly caught up. There were five deer, spread far enough apart to see individually, peacefully grazing on grass.

He whispered so softly you could barely hear him. He explained how to pick the right one to kill. You wanted to make sure it wasn’t sick, or had a fawn nearby.

He grabbed his bow, briefly showing you how to hold it, grabbed an arrow, and stood. Then he pulled the arrow back with his strong arm, gave a quick whistle, and when the deer looked up he let go. Killing the animal instantly.

The whole process was a bit sad to you. But the way that Arthur handled it, was the most humane way to do it. You needed to eat, the deer was food, and Arthur didn’t let it suffer.

You had never killed anything so seeing the animal laying there was a different experience. You ate animal every time you ate stew, and to eat stew someone had to do the exact thing you had just witnessed.

It was something that you’d get better at, you’d already felt less squeamish the more you looked at the dead animal.

“If we come across some more before it gets too late, I’ll teach you how to skin it, and the cleanest way to get its meat.”

Before you could protest the morbid idea, not quite trusting your adjusting stomach to go that far, he whistled loudly and after a few seconds you heard his horse galloping.

He took the arrow out, wiped the blood off, and placed the deer on the back of his horse. You went ahead and whistled for your horse as well, for some reason you wanted them to stay together. Then you both lead them to a secluded area, so you could continue your hunt.

“Ok, this next one is all you.” He gestured for you to take the lead.

You gulped. You had paid attention, you truly did. But having to remember things on the spot made you slightly nervous. That and the fact that Arthur wasn't himself. He was more intimidating and serious and that made you more than a little anxious. You didn't want to disappoint him.

At first you were doing great. After a few minutes of looking for droppings, you had found some, and that made the trail pretty clear. So you followed and followed, until you lost it completely.

He was positive and encouraged you. Afterall, this was your first time doing so. Frankly, he just seemed happy that you’d remembered some of his lessons.

Then a couple of hours later, you had lost count on how many animal turds you had inspected, you had finally found a small herd.

You smiled back at him, and as he caught up looking at what you'd found, he briefly let a smile escape through whatever was going through his head.

“Now what?” You stood close to him and whispered.

He nodded to your bow, which you pulled out, and went a step ahead and retrieved an arrow as well.

He stood behind you, so close that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. He gently placed your arms where they needed to go pressed his body firmly against yours, pulling the bow back.

You held your breath as you felt his strong arms guide you, and when you felt his warm-calloused hands grip your hand and then your hip, you couldn’t help it, a little moan escaped as you looked up at him.

Unfortunately for you, this was at the same time he chose to release your arrow. It flew and fell a good ways away from the deer, causing the herd to disperse.

“Goddamnit!” He yelled.

You jumped at the unexpected outburst.

“Why can’t you just pay attention!?” He threw your bow down and started walking the opposite way, back towards the horses.

You stood frozen for a moment, and tried to understand what had just happened. Then when you were over the initial shock you picked up your bow and followed.

When you caught up you walked backwards so that you were facing him. “What the hell was that Arthur?” You were angry and your voice let it show.

His brows were pinched tightly and the brim of his hat was pushed down lower than usual.

He ignored you, and continued walking with long strides.

“Hey.” He didn’t stop.

“Hey!” You stopped in front of him, causing him to run into you before he looked up and stopped.

“What?” He had the nerve to grumble at you.

You took a deep breath and calmed down before speaking. “Look, I don’t know what's going on with you…”

“It’s nothin’.” He cut you off sharply.

“Well it's obviously something.” You took off your hat so he could see your expressions more clearly. “I know that I ain’t a natural or nothin’ but you don’t have to treat me like an idiot. This was my first time, and you know that.”

“You were distracted. You weren’t even paying any attention.” His voice was harsh and absolute. His eyes avoided yours.

“Yeah that's cause this guy who i've been courting had his big strong arms on me.” You said in a southerbell voice, while fanning yourself with your hat dramatically. You regretted it immediately when he didn't even smirk.

“Look I’m not going to apologize that I'm attracted to you.” You took a step forward getting just in his space. “And when you put your hands on me, I think of all the things those hands have done and can do.”

“A lot of killing.” He murmured

“Yeah...that’s true. But that ain’t quite what I was thinkin’.” You stood on your toes and kissed him.

It was the first time he hadn’t eagerly responded to one of your kisses, and an icey fear shot through your veins.

You took a giant step back. It all made sense now. “Are you trying to break up with me?” Your voice sounded dead to your own ears.

That got his attention. His whole face crumbled, and your Arthur came back. He took off his hat so that you could see him as he could you. “God no. How could you even ask that?”

“Well you seemed to be pretty annoyed with me.”

“I...I ain’t annoyed.” He sighed and shook his head.

You placed your hands on your hips, and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m really not.”

“You could have fooled me.”

“It’s not an easy thing for me to explain.”

Your face cooled down and your hands dropped by your side. “It’s ok we got time.” You looked up at him pleadingly. “Talk to me, please.”

He took a deep breath and nodded his head. He knew that he had to come clean, but he wasn’t sure he could do it. He looked around for a comfortable spot. “Fine. Let's go sit under that tree.”

He walked you over to a smooth boulder, under a big tree. You sat down side by side, thighs barely touching.

He placed his hands in his lap, as his fingers played with a tear in his pants.

You wanted him to speak first, no you needed him to speak first. Even though he said he wasn't ending things with you, it still felt like it. So you waited and waited, until he finally cleared his throat a few times and started to speak.

“Yesterday, when we was out lookin’ for a new camp.” He paused and worked his jaw a few times. “Everything was fine one minute. Bill was saying all these ignorant things and Hosea was schoolin’ him…” His eyes squinted at the memory. “And then out of nowhere, we were surrounded by O’driscoll’s.”

You laid your hand on his thigh, and without a second thought he grabbed a hold of it tightly. You felt a little less scared at the reassurance. His hand in your hand made the world feel right again.

“Dutch froze. He looked so shocked and angry. Like he couldn’t believe this was happenin’ to him.” His gaze was on the horizon, it looked as though he was reliving every detail.

“And then what happened?” You asked as your thumb rubbed circles on the back of his hand.

“He, he pulled out his guns and just started shootin’ em’.”

Your eyes widened. “Without trying to talk to them first?”

He shook his head. “He didn’t even try.”

“That doesn't sound like Dutch.”

“No it doesn't.” He sighed heavily. “Everyone but Dutch ran for cover. He just stood there in the middle of the field. Guns blazing. He looked insane, I don’t think he even blinked. I told everyone to cover him, while Charles and I went around them and flanked the bastards.”

“I’m glad at least you had a plan.” You said proudly. You knew that it wasn't important to him, but you always felt that he would make a good leader. He had something most leaders didn't, he actually cared about people.

He gave a humorless chuckle. “I suppose.”

“Why did you show up so dirty?”

“I came up on a group of them. I started shooting and then this sonofabitch tackled me from behind. We fell off of a small cliff and landed in mud.”

You panicked slightly. “You said you were ok.”

He turned, his piercing eyes stared straight into yours. “I’m fine...I know that we only fell for a few seconds but, but for the first time in my life...I was scared I was gonna die.”

“Cause he…”

“Cause I was afraid I couldn’t get back to you.” His eyes welled with tears and he quickly looked away in frustration. “Damnit, I’ve just never felt this way before, and I don't really know what i'm saying or how to say it.”

You sat quietly trying to take the confession in. Did you make him weak?

“...and if all of us would have died. What would have happened to y'all back at camp?”

“We would have figured something out.”

“None of you can even hunt.”

Then all the pieces fell into place, and the picture was clear. “Arthur I’m a grown woman..”

“And you're mine to look out for.” He squinted like he didn’t like how that sounded. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No you are right. I am yours. Always. But you don't have to always look out for me.”

“I do though.” He turned fully towards you taking both your hands, reminding you of yesterday. “Look if I die out there, doing god knows what.”

You violently shook your head as tears welled up in your eyes.

“It, it could happen. And we both need to face them facts. If I were to not come back...I, I can’t die thinkin’ that you was left alone, not knowing how to defend yourself, or how to find food.” He leaned into your palm as you wiped a tear. “I ain’t strong enough for that. It scares the living shit out of me.”

He returned the favor and wiped some of your falling tears. “Don’t worry about me like that. I’d figure it out, you know I would.”

“I can’t help it. Leaving you would be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, and knowing that I made you an outlaw. Knowin’ that you couldn’t find honest work, or an honest husband because of me...”

“It ain’t your fault. You saved me.”

He pulled you to him. Unable to continue. He just wanted to forget everything.

The hug was fierce and you held on for dear life, and you heard him whisper, mostly to himself “and you saved me.” He was anchoring you at this very moment, without it you don’t think you would have been strong enough to stay upright.

“And I couldn’t help but think that I never would have gotten the chance.”

“What chance?”

He pulled back so he could look at you. “To tell ya how much you mean to me.”

You smiled. “I would have known.”

“I love you.”

You smiled wide. Your whole body felt warm and your heartbeat quickened. “I love you too Arthur. So very much.”

He kissed you. It wasn’t gentle but it also wasn’t rough. A perfect balance.

He kissed you until you felt his ridgid shoulders soften, and all the stress of yesterday disappear.

He looked in your eyes and spoke softly. “I’m so lucky.”

“Make me a promise then, please.”

“Anything.” He responded resolutely.

“If you ever have something like that going on in your mind you talk to me. Ok?”

His eyes hardened a little.

“I’ve spent the last twenty four hours worried about you. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn't eat. I even left the biscuits you gave me back at camp. And if you would have just told me how serious this was to you I would have been a better student.”

He smiled. “You were a fine student. I was just a little impatient is all.”

“No I most certainly wasn't. I was far too distracted by the teacher. Even if he was a little impatient.” You winked playfully.

He smirked.

You turned serious again. “Promise me. Please?”

“Alright I promise. But you have to know by now I ain’t an easy man to live with. Sometimes I bottle up and I’m not exactly sure why. And I'm definitely not used to being loved...It feels amazin’ don't get me wrong, I just ain’t used to.”

“Then I guess I got to work on you then.”

Grinning at your playful tone, he started kissing you again.

It was much, much later before you both returned to camp. The sky was purple and stars were becoming visible. The campfire was blazing, and, thankfully, the night air was much cooler.

You brought back two deer carcasses. Mr. Pearson was very happy and began prepping them right away.

After dropping off the deer, Arthur grabbed a beer, while you walked over to your bedroll. You packed all of your stuff and just as you stood, Karen walked up with a knowing look about her.

“And where do you think you're going?”

You stood proudly. “Arthur and I are sharing a cot.”

“About damn time.” She laughed while sashaying away, looking for trouble.

On your way to his wagon you passed by Charles, who was carrying a load of firewood.

“Oh Charles, thank you so much for the bow. It is the most beautiful one i've ever seen.”

He smiled. “I’m glad you liked it. Arthur made me build it so fast I was worried I wouldn’t have time to add the details.”

“It’s perfect, honest. Thank you.”

“You are very welcome. Anytime you need something like that let me know. All I ask is to give me some time in advance.”

You chuckled. “Ok no problem.”

You made your way over to his wagon and paused while looking at all of his stuff. It wasn’t the first time you studied his pictures, but it was the first time you noticed Mary's was missing.

At the start of a vulgar campfire song you looked over to your strange family. Arthur was probably on his second beer by now, and judging by the way he was enjoying himself it would be far from his last.

You sat a few of your beloved trinkets down on the table next to his flower in a jar. Set a picture of your parents next to the one of his mother, and placed your bow next to his in the corner. Then you shoved the rest of your things, and your clothes under his cot. You’d have to get some storage of your own soon.

You stood back admiring your work. Everything of yours looked somehow better mingled with his.

Satisfied with how everything looked, you made your way over to the campfire. He saved you a seat, greeted you with a big slightly drunken smile, and offered you a fresh beer.

After a few bars and a few beers, you found yourself happily singing along.

#arthur morgan x reader #one shot

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heyyyharry · 5 years

Text

My Girl Series: Chapter 15 - My Girl

…in which Harry and Y/N go back to where it all began. {end of book 1}

Series description: Y/N falls in love with the older boy next door who doesn’t feel the same, years later they meet again at a funeral.

AU: actor!harry, older!harry, younger!y/n; (4-year age gap)

Chapter 14: Home Truth - Y/N discovers a family secret, and Harry is in despair.

Book 2: Masterlist - Thursday, May 16 // First preview - Thursday, May 23 // First chapter - Friday, May 24 (WATTPAD) and Saturday, May 25 (TUMBLR) // 12pm GMT.

Warning: nothing but angst and plenty of mistakes because I didn’t proofread.

A/N: listen to this while reading. And let’s see if you can find all the parallels between this chapter and the first one. ;)

OC version

Ten years ago, in the town of Holmes Chapel, a little girl started her first journal entry with a story for her class assignment. She defined true happiness as the older boy next door who owned her heart. Her parents' marriage had proven that true love didn't exist, yet Harry showed up and all her walls came tumbling down.

Every day before bed, Y/N would write about him in her pink notebook, about the possibility of an unknown future where they lived happily ever after. She was so young. And everything was easy, until it was not.

He was hers, until he wasn't.

One night she went straight to bed without writing about him. There was nothing to write about the person you were no longer friends with.

She'd been losing sleep, asking herself why Harry never came back to their treehouse, why he didn't say hello when he walked right past her with his friends, how he could just stop knowing her. She kept wondering, yet she waited, and waited, and waited.

She waited, until he left her.

For two years since he was gone, she'd been expecting a call, a letter, anything that let her know for him she still existed. But every day came a new disappointment as she checked her mailbox to find nothing from him.

Eventually, Y/N took her mother's advice to write to Harry first. She began with a draft in her pink notebook, putting her heart and soul into every single word on the paper. But once she'd finished it, her fear of never getting a response overpowered her need to reach out for him. So she kept it to herself and decided to write even more letters that she would never send; just to get the overwhelming sadness out of her system, and for her to miss him a bit less every day.

Now 24-year-old Harry was alone in his bedroom, too focused on those words to even notice the sun was rising. With tears running down his face, he imagined her reading everything to him.

Dear Harry, she would begin in each letter before telling him about her day, her silly thoughts, her plan for the future, how much she'd missed him, and asking him questions like 'are you coming back?' and 'do you think about me sometimes?' All of those things made his heart wrench in a way that healed him and tore him up at the same time.

The bone-deep fear grew much larger now that he'd reached Y/N's last entry written the night before her first time on a date. The love she had for Blake was proof that she had moved on from Harry once and would do it again if she wanted to. So apparently, Harry had less time on his hand than he thought. It was in that moment of dismal stillness that all the voices in his head started screaming at each other. What should he do now? One wrong move would inevitably lead to major consequences. But if he didn't make a move, he'd have zero chance of winning her back.

As his ringtone pierced through the silence like a cannonball, Harry's eyes sparkled with hope. He had prayed that it was her until seeing the name Niall on the screen made him gutted. Harry held the phone at his ear, falling down onto his back and darting his tiring eyes to the ceiling.

"Harold," his best friend spoke first. "Do you know the brand of that camera Isey's been using lately?"

Harry sighed at the question, laying an arm on his forehead. "I don't know, mate. Why don't you ask him?"

"I did text him but he hasn't replied. Thanks anyway, I'll wait until he comes back from Holmes Chapel."

The town name caused Harry's eyes to shoot open as he sat straight up on the bed, eyebrows drew together. "Why's he in Holmes Chapel?"

"Yesterday he came to visit Smiley, I mean Bambi, then decided to stay for her father's wedding. But...which one of you is dating Y/N? Are you back with Ruby now, because—"

"Sorry mate, I'm—I'm gonna have to call you back," Harry interjected those endless inquiries before hanging up on Niall without further explanation. There was not enough time to raise questions of his own about why Isaac didn't tell him anything and went to see Y/N alone. He didn't even feel betrayed, he just felt scared as he grabbed his car key and bolted towards the door. He couldn't lose her now, not again, not this way.

"This is it," Y/N mumbled to herself as she walked through the door. The air was sweet and the sky was clear, a perfect day for a wedding.

There was nothing outside but sunshine, yet just to step into it made her heart thump in her chest. Something about seeing her garden for the first time in years away from home was so strange. Maybe it was the giggles of children, or the screaming of their parents who warned them about spoiling their outfits, or loud conversations of overly excited relatives who only showed up when there was a wedding or a funeral.

The white decorations went a bit over the top for a wedding that was supposed to be small. Knowing Marcy, Y/N wasn't surprised. She thought it was smart to be extravagant on the white and having pastel as the dress code, now the scene really did look like a beautiful mosaic.

But it wasn't just the wedding that had changed her backyard entirely. It was also the fact that Marcy had turned this spot into the dream garden Tam had always wanted, with all types of flowers Y/N could name or even more. The grass was always green and fresh as her stepmother made sure that it was watered and trimmed regularly. The sprinklers would come up in the early morning to wake up the flower kingdom that used to only exist on the other side of the fence. Apparently, Bradford wasn't the only one well-taken care of since Marcy came around.

Y/N went to find Isaac, trying to avoid the cousins she disliked, the aunties who always pinched her cheeks, and those uncles who always asked whom she was dating. And even though she wasn't actually thinking about him, like a habit she still darted her eyes to the tree standing tall in the backyard next door.

There it was, her childhood fort made of wood — the only thing that stayed the same in this town despite how many years had passed. It stood there, tall and proud, unbothered by the changes in weather and time, surviving through all the storms. If only people were the same, Y/N thought to herself. Sadly, the human heart was a delicate little thing. It had to change in order to adapt, otherwise, it wouldn't stay alive.

"Hey."

The voice caused her head to spin. Instantly, Y/N put on a smile when she saw Isaac, who was wearing her father's pastel blue shirt in order to match the theme.

"Wow, you look..." The man was speechless for two seconds as he saw her in the dress Marcy had picked out. He tried to look for a better word, but he couldn't come up with anything else so he settled with "...beautiful."

Y/N giggled as she shook her head, standing with her hands behind her back and trying to hide her rosy cheeks from his charmingly timid blue eyes.

"Thank you," she said. "You look beautiful yourself."

"To be honest, I think I'm way too underdressed," he replied, opening his arms to look at the shirt that seemed too oversized for him. The way he lifted an eyebrow questioningly at himself made her giggle. When he finally looked up and flashed her a grin, they shared the kind of glance that sent both into silence for a long moment.

"We should go find our seats," she blurted, turning away to leave yet he stopped her just in time.

"Hold on." Isaac took her wrist, taking a step forward to close the distance between them. Before Y/N could ask, he carefully tucked the wavy strand behind her ear since it kept falling out of her bun, no matter how many times she'd tried to brush it back into place. As his eyes twinkled with another smile, Y/N was certain she had never seen a blue so warm.

"Pastel pink suits you very well," he said in an undertone, his fingers which had previously wrapped around her wrist were now intertwined with hers.

"T-Thanks," Y/N muttered shyly as she followed him, they were the last ones to find their seats so the wedding ceremony could begin.

Even though Y/N's idea of love had changed constantly throughout the years, her adoration for weddings never had. To her, a wedding was like a temporary happy ending. No matter what had happened before or might happen after, in this moment, there was nothing but bliss. This was the closest reality could ever get to fiction, and for someone who'd been writing fictional love stories her entire life, it was good to live through a moment like this once in a while.

All the guests rose up when Marcy's favorite song 'Yellow' began to play. Most eyes were on the beautiful bride as she marched down the aisle, holding her father's hand and a bouquet of daisies that Y/N had helped her arrange last night. Meanwhile, the twenty-year-old kept her eyes on her father, who had already burst into happy tears. Seeing him cry was all it took for Y/N to start sobbing as well.

"Dumbass Marcy picked the worst day to wear non-waterproof makeup." Her lips twitched in amusement as her father kept wiping off his bride's running mascara every five seconds.

"She looks good though," said Isaac, who couldn't stop beaming now.

Y/N nodded to agree. She could never deny the fact that Marcy was naturally pretty and was always the center of attention. But today she looked radiantly gorgeous, probably because happiness was the most authentic real-life filter. Y/N was content, knowing a woman could only look that happy when she was madly in love.

Bradford had gone through so much, starting from his wife's betrayal and tragic death, to rumors about him being unfaithful and a cold-hearted liar, to his daughter's hatred for she had loved her mother too much to understand. After everything, this was the ending he deserved. And Y/N was very proud of him.

"Y/N! It's happening!"

Y/N widened her eyes as her overexcited best friend grabbed her by the arms and pushed her against the lockers. They had caught the attention from a few other kids in the hallway, however, Celine was too thrilled to even care.

"Blake Roman is gonna ask you out!"

"Blake and I are only study buddies." Y/N snorted. Holding her books to her chest, she told the shorter girl, "I know he doesn't like me, at least...not that way."

"But he does! He told Flynn who told Marcus who told Amala who told me that he was gonna ask you out today! God, I'm so happy for you!" Celine squealed, shaking Y/N violently before pulling her into a suffocating hug. The tiny girl expected her friend to jump or even scream, yet her actual reaction was much disappointing.

"I really like Blake, but..."

"No, but! But isn't good!" Celine rebuked Y/N's thought before she could even finish it. Straightening her arms, the smaller one pulled away, seemingly so upset. "You like Blake, Y/N. Just stop there, alright?"

"Blake and I are so different. Besides, have you seen the girls he used to date?"

"You're not turning him down because you're insecure, are you?!"

"I'm not!" She was. "Boys like Blake..." Or boys in general. "They're gonna leave you eventually."

Celine's hardened expression was exactly in the card, but the words that came out from her mouth was definitely unexpected.

"It's still about Harry, right?"

The tone of the question made it seem more like a statement. Following her instinct, the first thing Y/N did was counter the remark, yet deep within she was still second-guessing what her true answer might be.

"Not everything I do is about Harry."

Celine couldn't look less dubious. At a time like this, she would normally start ranting about why Harry wasn't worth it, but she knew Y/N would shut her ears to such opinions as always. Of course, she couldn't understand the kind of love her best friend had for a boy who'd been gone for two years. Therefore, she hated how Y/N refused to acknowledge the fact that Harry might not return.

"Please go out with Blake," Celine said, taking a deep breath. "Don't put your entire life on hold just because you're missing someone."

And just like that, she walked off, knowing her words would stay behind as they were already engraved in Y/N's brain.

"Harry, where the hell are you?!"

"Jeff, I—"

"What's wrong with you?! The whole team is waiting!"

Honestly, Harry didn't know what was wrong with him, like when he skipped the BAFTAs, when he canceled his schedule at the last minute to take Y/N back to Holmes Chapel. And now he was returning to that old town for it might be his last chance to win her back. The reason that he'd put his career and reputation at risk, the only person who mattered above all, was the one he'd let down.

"I'll explain to you later, I promise. I'm so sorry," he told his manager and didn't even let the man speak as he hung up the call to keep on driving. He knew he might not make it back before the wedding was over. He could only hope that she would wait. She'd waited for him her whole life, yet a couple minutes more seemed so expensive.

As he drove, the only thing playing in his head were the words she'd written in her journal, which he'd left behind when he was in a rush. Still, he remembered everything and now those words wouldn't leave him alone.

'Dear Harry,

This might be the last letter I'm writing to you. I'm going on a date tomorrow, a real date, can you believe it?

Blake finally asked me out. This would be my first date ever and I'm sweating just from thinking about it. If you were here I know you would give me a ton of advice, something like 'don't let him touch you where you don't wanna be touched', and I would roll my eyes and tell you you're overreacting. Fortunately you're not here. But don't worry, we won't go that far. I really like Blake, and you might like him too once you see how sweet he is to me.

As I said in one of my letters, when there comes a guy I really like, I will stop writing to you and let you go. I feel like this is it. This is the one...'

Since her family didn't usually have guests, Y/N was pretty surprised when she got home to find her mother talking to their neighbor in the kitchen. The last time she spoke to Anne was the day Harry left, after that she had no more reasons to spend time with his family to get updated on how they'd been. Now that Anne was here, she was hoping to get some news about Harry.

Of course, Tam had no idea that her sixteen-year-old daughter was standing right outside and listening to this conversation. If she had known, she wouldn't have said what she was about to say.

"You must be so proud. If I were you I would tell the whole town that my son just signed a big movie contract, and his girlfriend is a model."

"I'm about to go knock on every door," Anne replied as they both shared a good laugh.

Meanwhile, heartbroken Y/N flopped down on the bottom stair with her hands on her chest. She couldn't make a sound or else they would know she was there, but she was too hurt to even move. When the front door opened, she almost didn't notice, until her dad appeared and paused as he saw his teenage daughter sitting right there.

At first, he couldn't understand why she seemed so sad, until he heard Anne laughing in the kitchen. He took a guess that his daughter had sat there long enough to hear something about Harry which she didn't want to hear. The look on her face had said it all.

He parted his lips, yet no sound escaped. He was never good at talking about feelings and giving advice on growing up and falling in love for the first time. That was why he'd left it all to Tam to be the consultant in the house. However, seeing Y/N like this made him wish he had tried to be her friend. Now he'd missed another chance to get to know her as she was quick to run upstairs without saying another word.

Y/N locked herself in her room and sat with her back against the door, holding both knees to her chest. The moment she spotted the pink notebook lying on her bed, Celine's words came to life once again. She'd been putting her life on hold for him, while his life still moved on as the earth kept spinning round. He'd got a movie contract and was dating a model. Here she was, saying no to every chance of happiness she could get, to keep her door wide open for someone she hadn't heard from for two years.

What was she doing?

The buzzing of the phone in Y/N's pocket made her flinch. She pulled it out, expecting it to be Celine but it was a different name that she saw.

⌲ Blake: Can I see you tonight? I have something important to say to you.

So it was true, Y/N thought to herself as she went over that question a couple times. Blake did want to ask her out. However, she wanted to say no. This relationship hadn't even started yet and she could already envision all the different scenarios of him leaving her.

Sighing, the girl typed down her answer, knowing it was for the best if she'd just turn him down and be alone. But when she was done and ready to press send, she hesitated. No. This wasn't the right way. Her life had to move on, she had to start somewhere.

After contemplating for a little bit more, she came to a decision to delete it all and type down something else.

⌲ Sure. Where do we meet?

It took less than two seconds for her phone to buzz again.

⌲ Blake: I'll come over at 8.

When Y/N read his reply, her heart came to a halt. She exhaled through her mouth, tossing her head back against the door to roll her eyes upward, staring at the ceiling. This could be the worst decision or the best one she'd made. She would never know if she didn't try.

Y/N loved the view from her treehouse. When she was sitting up there, looking at the trees and the roofs and the field behind her yard, she felt like she was on top of the world. She remembered thinking that someday she would build her own house in a tree where she and Harry could live happily together with their little family.

But growing up was when you realized not everything was possible like it was in the mind of a child, that people didn't live on trees, that it wasn't always good to be alone all the time, and the boy you thought would be the love of your life couldn't be the love of your life forever.

As the wedding party went on, Y/N decided to find her escape on the treehouse. It was the first time she'd been up here since the night of her mother's funeral. She sat on the edge, watching the children chasing one another in her backyard and thinking about when she was their age. However, she wasn't depressed as she thought about the past anymore. After everything that had happened, her falling out with Harry, her finding the truth about her mother, she realized life was too short to hold onto grief. Everything you had today could disappear tomorrow. In order to enjoy life to the fullest, it was best to just treat memories as a place to visit once in a while, not a place to stay.

"Smiley!"

Isaac's voice pulled Y/N's attention away from her jungle of thoughts. She looked down right by the fence where he stood with a massive smile upon his face.

"What are you doing in your neighbor's treehouse?"

"This is my treehouse actually."

The way she scrunched up her nose made him laugh. Though Isaac was a bit confused by that answer, he simply shrugged it off and asked, "can I join you up there?"

"Sure. The ladder is over there."

When Y/N said it, she temporarily forgot the promise she'd made to Harry when she was fourteen. As soon as it came to her mind, Isaac was already on his way up. But then she thought to herself, maybe even if Harry had been there, he wouldn't have cared. She'd never let anyone else enter their treehouse, not even Blake, because she used to take that promise so seriously, thinking this place must've meant the whole world to him. Now she didn't really know if it still meant anything to him.

"Be careful!"

"Don't underestimate m—Shit!"

Isaac nearly missed his last step on the rope ladder, and the look of relief on his face when she reached for his arms made her laugh so hard.

Once again, she had someone else by her side as they sat on the edge of the treehouse with their feet dangling in the air, feeling the breezes blowing through their hair. She felt his eyes on her as she watched her father and Marcy laughing with the wedding guests.

"Bored of the party?" He asked in an attempt to gain back her attention.

"Not a family gathering kind of gal, you know what I'm sayin'?" Her fake American accent as she did a peace sign got Isaac chuckling and rolling his eyes playfully. He looked around after she'd gone back to silence. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, beginning with the reason why she'd told him this treehouse belonged to her. But it wasn't necessary anymore now that he'd just seen ‘Y/N ❤ Harry’ carved on the floor.

"So...this is Harry's..."

Y/N seemed a bit puzzled by what he said, until she also spotted the words that she didn't even remember were there.

"He let me have this place when he left so it's mine now." She laughed slightly, but Isaac knew she found no humor in those words. Taking a deep breath, she added, "in the language of angsty teens, this was where I came to cry."

Her joke made both of them chuckle.

"This used to be my favorite place in the world," she said in a hushed toned after the laughter had died down. "Harry...used to be my favorite person in the world."

This was the first time she'd ever admitted her feelings for Harry to Isaac. The last and only time she spoke about Harry to him was on their first unofficial date, otherwise, Isaac would've misunderstood the nature of their so-called 'friendship'. Now she felt like Isaac deserved to know more.

"Two of my hardest goodbyes happened here," she went on, lowering her voice and her smile was no longer there. "The first one was Harry, the second was my first boyfriend Blake. Both left me to follow their bigger dreams, but for me at the time, they were everything I'd ever wanted."

She paused for a long time, yet Isaac didn't try to throw in a comment. He was just waiting for her to go on. So she did.

"I wanted to be somebody's first choice so bad that I forgot to make myself my first choice. Now I know that everyone is allowed to leave, and the only person I can control is myself."

"Right." Isaac agreed, nodding his head. "So if we cannot love ourselves, then when people leave us, we've got nothing left."

"Right," she repeated his word while holding his gaze.

He could soothe her like no one else, it was impossible to stay anxious or upset with Isaac around. That was why she must tell him what had been bothering her since yesterday, knowing he was too good of a person to say anything first.

"I shouldn't have dragged you into my mess," she spoke, giving him a dreary smile. "I've caused you so much trouble already, and I've never done anything good for you. I'm the worst friend ever."

"You didn't drag me into anything." His voice right now was as soft as the look in his eyes. "I walked straight into the trouble, because it's yours...and when it comes to you, I don't mind."

When he reached out and placed his hand on her neck, her entire body tensed up. He thought she might withdraw from his touch, but instead, she stayed still, eventually relaxing her muscles as their eyes met once again.

"If you think you're supposed to do something for me, don't." He shook his head, his eyebrows pulled together. Y/N had never seen Isaac upset or worried and this was the closest he'd ever got to being sad. She couldn't help but blame herself for doing this to him.

"I don't...I don't deserve you..." she faltered.

As much as she wanted to give him the chance that he wanted, she knew her brain had built new walls after what had happened with Harry. It would take time to tear them down brick by brick and it would be cruel to ask him to wait for her to pick herself up and start again. One thing that she'd learned from her own experience was, no one besides yourself was worth the wait.

"Who are we to decide who's good for us and who's not?" he told her, lifting his other hand to cup her face as well. A small lock tumbled in front of her face, resting just in front of her cheek, but with one swift slide of his thumb, it was brushed out of the way. He looked so nice like this, especially in the natural lighting when the color of his eyes matched the ineffably blue and distant sky above their heads. She was now reminded how much she'd loved that color since the first time they met, the color of hope.

"Look," he began again as she didn't say anything. "I'm not gonna pressure you into doing anything you're not comfortable with. I know you need time to figure things out, but I'm not going anywhere. You can take your time, and just...just let me look out for you like this. That's all I ask."

Y/N remained silent, this time she nodded her head. The frown on his face was soon washed off by a hopeful grin as their eyes locked.

"Thank you," she faintly mumbled before her lips alighted on his cheek, as soft as a feather.

"Harry Styles?!"

Harry had spent most of his energy and patience driving as fast as he could from London back to Holmes Chapel. The last thing he wanted when he arrived was for any of the wedding guests to recognize him. He almost turned down the request to take a photo with the woman, but she was quick to grab him by the arm before he made it to the door leading to the backyard.

"Do you remember me?" She asked, sounding thrilled to bits. Now that Harry had got a good look at her face, he finally realized who she was.

"Aunt Lynn?" His eyes widened in shock. Lynn was much skinnier than the twenty-year-old she used to be, and her hair wasn't purple anymore so Harry had a hard time trying to recognize her. The only thing that hadn't changed was the way she chewed her gum while speaking. Though Y/N used to go on and on about how annoying it was, Harry hadn't got a chance to talk to the woman long enough to notice, until now.

"Baby Harry Styles?!" She gasped, reaching up to pinch his cheeks. "Oh my god, I remember when you were a little boy and now you're much taller than me."

"That's...great...But I really need to go." He grabbed her shoulders, pushing her away politely. "Have you seen Y/N?"

"I didn't know you two were still hanging out now that you're famous."

Harry rolled his eyes, ignoring the unnecessary remark. "But have you seen her?"

"She was with another handsome boy," Lynn said, bringing the champagne glass to her red lips to take a sip. "Man, I remember when I was her age. She's so me."

"Thank you," Harry spoke fast as he slightly pushed her aside so he could stride towards the door. This time it was her laugh that stopped him halfway.

"What?" He lifted an eyebrow in confusion as the woman shook her head, a huge questionable smirk appeared on her face.

"This is the first time I've seen you chase after little Y/N and not the other way around.”

She might've said it as a joke, but there was something about those words that did him damage as he turned away. He stepped into her backyard, scanning his anxious green eyes around to search for a figure of the girl he loved. He was too lost in his own head to acknowledge how much this place had changed, or the curious stares people were giving him for some could recognize who he was.

'I'll always love you most of all. You'll always be number one, no matter where you are, or if we'll ever meet again.'

He looked so hopeless, wanting to call out her name but he didn't want to draw any more attention on him. He could feel anxiety and fears growing within him like an unstoppable snowball rolling down the hill. His heart started to beat harder and faster as his adrenaline levels rose.

'I know this letter will never get to you, but it's doesn’t hurt to imagine, right? Maybe after reading this, you would realize that you love me and don't want me to be with another boy. So you would get into your car and drive from London back to Cheshire to tell me those three words in person.'

And then he finally saw her, in the only place she would go to when the crowd became overwhelming. For someone who could spend the whole night at some bar dancing away her sorrow, she strangely enjoyed being alone. But she wasn't alone. She was with Isaac. In the treehouse that was once her and Harry's. He could hear the sound of his heart cracking open as the pain that felt almost as if it was physical choked the breath out of his body.

'I'd be waiting by the treehouse so when you came, I would run into your arms...'

Everything once whole was now shattered. The sweat soaked through his shirt and the pressure within his chest made it feel like it was going to explode. Somehow he was still sane enough to notice she was wearing pink. He hadn't seen her in pink for so long, if only he could tell her how much she resembled the girl she was trying hard to get rid of. She looked good, happiness really made her shine. He wished he could read their lips to know what they were talking about. But if he could, would those words break him even more than the genuine smile on her face?

'...and just like in every romantic movie, we'd kiss and live happily ever after.'

He wasn't mad at her for breaking the promise she'd made when she was only a child. It was when she leaned in and kissed his best friend's cheek that he realized everything was over. The first and only time he'd chased after her, he ended up showing up too late. Harry knew there was more to that friendly kiss, for someone with trust issues and fear of attachment like her to get intimate, there was always a reason. She was willing to give Isaac and herself another chance, what she could've done a long time ago had he not been in the way.

'But life isn't a movie. Someday when if you realize that you love me, hopefully, I'll still be here waiting for you.’

Harry left her house with his head hung low. On the way back to his car, he thought about everything, about their first kiss, their last kiss, their first time, their last time, and all the other in-betweens that he didn't appreciate enough until they were gone. In his head, he replayed the same two words he had said to her many years ago, the ones he didn't think she would hold onto until long after he was gone, the ones that he wished were still true knowing they weren't anymore.

‘Your girl, always.’

#harry styles #harry styles writing #my girl series #older!harry #actor!harry #bestfriend!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles series

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usashirtstoday · 3 years

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ragnarachael · 5 years

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DRABBLES + ONESHOTS MASTERLIST

here’s all the drabbles and oneshots i’ve posted! requests are currently closed! you can also find my new and old works that aren’t on this list on my blog by searching rachael writes or [character name] x reader!

click HERE for the masterlist to my chaptered fics such as: JUKEBOX HERO, PLEAD THE FIFTH. click HERE for the masterlist to my ongoing series such as: PROOF TONY STARK HAS A HEART, THE VALIANT ARSONIST.

WANT TO CHAT ABOUT A FIC? WANT HEADCANONS FROM A CERTAIN FIC UNIVERSE? CLICK HERE!

last updated — june 20th, 2020

MARVEL

PETER PARKER

CRUSH CITY, POPULATION: US — ONESHOT

Y/N’S FRIEND DRAGS HER TO A PARTY WHERE SHE ENDS UP TALKING WITH PETER, A GUY THAT SHE SHARES A FEW CLASSES WITH AND MAY OR MAY NOT KINDA HAVE A LITTLE CRUSH ON.

THE ONE WITH THE SOCKS IN BED — DRABBLE

PETER IS SICK, WEARING SOCKS TO BED, AND REALLY NEEDS A CUDDLE.

THE ONE WITH THE BLACK EYE — DRABBLE

PETER’S SPIDEY REFLEXES AREN’T ALWAYS HANDY. (FEATURES NELSON & MURDOCK!READER AND FRIEND!MATT MURDOCK)

THE ONE WITH THE EXISTENTIAL QUESTION — DRABBLE

YOU AND PETER ARE TALKING ABOUT ALTERNATE UNIVERSES WHEN HE ASKS THE QUESTION EVERYONE IN THE COMPOUND HAS BEEN WAITING FOR.

THE ONE WITH THE CHARITY GALA — DRABBLE

PETER ASKED YOU TO BE HIS FAKE DATE TO TONY STARK’S CHARITY GALA. (COLLEGE!AU)

THE ONE WITH THE CHARITY GALA PRT 2 — DRABBLE

WHO KNEW PETER WOULD PICK YOU OVER OSCAR ISAAC?

THE ONE WITH RUMLOW AND THE SPY — DRABBLE

YOU AND YOUR AGENCY WORK FOR TONY STARK SO YOU CAN CATCH BROCK RUMLOW. ALONG THE WAY, YOU RUN INTO PETER PARKER.

THE ONE WITH RUMLOW AND THE SPY PRT 2 — DRABBLE

YOU’RE FORCED TO STAY BACK AND CLEAN. YOU RUN INTO PETER PARKER ONCE AGAIN.

THE ONE WITH THE KNIFE VINE — DRABBLE

YOU AND PETER GET CAKE AS A REWARD.

THE ONE WHERE TONY HAS TO DO ALL THE WORK — DRABBLE

TONY THINKS YOU AND THE KID ARE CUTE. UNTIL HE HAS TO WAKE YOU TWO UP.

THE ONE WITH THE DIMENSION HOPPER — DRABBLE

YOU’RE STARGAZING WHEN PETER DECIDES TO BE A PAIN IN THE ASS. (FEATURING BECK!READER)

THE ONE WITH WUTHERING HEIGHTS — DRABBLE

PETER WANTED TO HAVE A “STUDY SESSION.”

THE ONE WITH THE SALAD —DRABBLE

YOU AND PETER ARE ON YOUR FIRST DATE SINCE TONY FOUND OUT YOU TWO WERE DATING.

THE ONE WITH THE FEAR OF BIKES — DRABBLE

YOU DON’T DIG BIKES AT ALL.

THE ONE WITH THE NEW YORK SIREN — DRABBLE

SPIDER-MAN IS FACE TO FACE WITH NEW YORK’S NEWEST VIGILANTE.

THE ONE WITH THE FRUIT PUNCH — DRABBLE

PETER FINALLY TALKS TO YOU AT A PARTY. TONY HAS TO INTERRUPT BEFORE YOU DO MORE THAN TALKING. (FEATURING COLLEGE!PETER X COLLEGE!READER)

SPRING HAS SPRUNG — ONESHOT (REQUESTED)

SPRING BREAK MEANT COMING HOME AND RUNNING AWAY FROM YOUR PROBLEMS FOR A WEEK OR TWO. HOWEVER, THE SECOND PETER PARKER COMES TO YOUR PLACE TO CRASH FOR A FEW DAYS, YOU FIGURE OUT THAT YOUR PROBLEMS FOLLOWED YOU INTO THE COMFORT OF YOUR OWN HOME. (FEATURING COLLEGE!PETER X COLLEGE STARK!READER)

MICHELLE JONES

REEVALUATION — ONESHOT (REQUESTED)

YOU AND MJ HAVE BEEN HAVING SOME TROUBLES IN YOUR FRIENDSHIP FOR THE PAST COUPLE OF WEEKS, AND IT TAKES THE ART COMPETITION AT MIDTOWN HIGH TO GET TO THE BOTTOM OF WHY SHE’S BEEN ACTING SO RUDE TO YOU.

THE ONE WITH THE ENGLISH CLASS — DRABBLE

MJ TRIES IMPRESSING YOU DURING YOUR ENGLISH CLASS.

MATT MURDOCK

POOL — ONESHOT

IT’S DATE NIGHT FOR YOU AND MATT, SO YOU BOTH DECIDED IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO PLAY A NICE FRIENDLY GAME OF POOL IN JOSIE’S BAR.

THE ONE WITH THE DEVIL’S BABY — DRABBLE

YOU’VE BEEN SICK LATELY AND TRIED TO HIDE IT.

BLUE MOON — ONESHOT/POTENTIAL SERIES

AFTER A ROUGH BREAKUP YOU HEAD BACK TO THE ONE PLACE THAT’LL HELP YOU DROWN YOUR IMPENDING SORROWS: JOSIE’S.

THE ONE WITH THE KNOCK OFF DAREDEVIL SUIT — DRABBLE

YOU AND MATT ARE HEADING TO FOGGY’S HALLOWEEN PARTY.

STEPHEN STRANGE

SILVIA AND THE GOOGLE SEARCH — ONESHOT

SILVIA’S FEELING A LITTLE UNDER THE WEATHER AND INSTEAD OF INFORMING HER FATHER, SHE GOOGLES HER SYMPTOMS. STEPHEN WISHES SHE DIDN’T DO THAT. (FEATURING MY OC SILVIA STRANGE, FATHER!STEPHEN STRANGE)

THE ONE WITH PERSUASION — DRABBLE

STEPHEN’S TRYING TO CONVINCE YOU TO COME TO A PARTY AS HIS PLUS ONE. (TECHNICAL PROLOGUE FOR A NEW ER NURSE!READER FIC)

PIECES OF EGG — ONESHOT

YOU WERE COOKING BREAKFAST WHEN YOUR FAVORITE SONG CAME ON. (FEATURING ER NURSE!READER)

THE ONE WITH THE PREGNANCY SCARE — DRABBLE

YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE PREGNANT AND END UP SUGGESTING AN ALTERNATIVE BIRTH CONTROL METHOD TO STEPHEN.

THE ONE WITH THE HAMILTON BIOGRAPHY — DRABBLE

STEPHEN STARTS HIS FIRST DAY AT STARK AND POTTS ILLUSTRATED MEETING YOU.

THE ONE WITH THE BASSET HOUND — DRABBLE

YOU REALLY WANT STEPHEN’S DOG.

THE ONE WITH UNREQUITED LOVE — DRABBLE

YOU KNEW YOU FELT SOMETHING FOR STEPHEN. BUT HE LOVED CHRISTINE.

THE ONE WITH THE SECOND DATE — DRABBLE

STEPHEN STRANGE IS GENUINELY A GOOD DATE.

THE ONE WITH SPAGHETTI NIGHT — DRABBLE

STEPHEN’S DAUGHTER TRIES TO KNOCK SOME SENSE INTO HIM. (FEATURING MY OC, SILVIA STRANGE!)

THE ONE WITH THE CHAI LATTE — DRABBLE

STEPHEN JUST WANTED TO GET COFFEE BEFORE HIS MEETING.

THE ONE WITH THE HARRY POTTER REFERENCE — DRABBLE

YOU NEVER THOUGHT YOU’D SEE THE DAY STEPHEN GETS ASSIGNED A NICKNAME BY TONY STARK.

THE ONE WITH THE POTENTIAL MUGGING — DRABBLE

STEPHEN’S DOORS ARE OPEN TO YOU 24/7.

THE ONE WITH THE SOCK THIEF — DRABBLE

STEPHEN’S HURT AND YOU PATCH HIM UP.

THE ONE WHERE YOU REMIND YOURSELF OF TWILIGHT — DRABBLE

YOU CAN’T SLEEP AND DECIDE THAT STARING AT YOUR BOYFRIEND IS A GOOD PASTIME.

I’LL LIVE TO SEE ANOTHER DAY — ONESHOT

YOU’RE FINALLY BACK IN YOUR APARTMENT FROM YOUR LONG SHIFT AT METRO-GENERAL, BUT YOUR MYSTICAL BOYFRIEND DECIDED YOU COULDN’T TAKE A BREAK YET. (FEATURING ER NURSE!READER)

BATTLE OF WIT — ONESHOT

STEPHEN REALIZES AFTER YOUR MOST RECENT BATTLE THAT HE CAN’T LOSE YOU, NO MATTER THE CIRCUMSTANCE. HE’S JUST... TERRIBLE AT EXPRESSING HIS FEELINGS PROPERLY.

WADE WILSON

SHOULDA, COULDA, WOULDA — ONESHOT

WADE DIDN’T WANT TO RUIN HIS KID’S NIGHT WITH HER ‘BOYFRIEND,’ BUT HE DIDN’T HAVE MUCH OF A CHOICE, SHE HAD A RIGHT TO KNOW. (FEATURING FATHER!WADE WILSON AND PETER PARKER X DEADPOOL’S!DAUGHTER)

STEVE ROGERS

PROMISES PROMISES — ONESHOT

STEVE WISHES YOU’D STOP REMINISCING WHEN YOU’RE LITERALLY BLEEDING OUT IN HIS ARMS.

THE ONE WITH THE COFFEE SHOP — DRABBLE

BUCKY CATCHES STEVE SKETCHING A GIRL WHO ALWAYS COMES TO A LOCAL COFFEE SHOP ACROSS THE STREET FROM THEIR APARTMENT AND CONVINCES HIM TO TALK TO HER.

THE ONE WITH THE COFFEE SHOP PRT 2 — DRABBLE

STEVE FINALLY GETS THE COURAGE TO TALK TO THE GIRL WITH THE SHIELD HAT AND CIA PATCH.

THE ONE WITH THE GINGERBREAD ZOMBIES — DRABBLE

YOU WISH HALLOWEEN WAS CELEBRATED A LOT MORE THAN CHRISTMAS IS.

THE ONE WITH THE STUTTER — DRABBLE

YOU’RE TRYING TO TELL STEVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT.

TONY STARK

THE ONE WITH NO RESOLUTION — DRABBLE

TONY FEELS OBLIGATED TO FIND A WAY TO GET EVERYONE BACK. (SOME AVENGERS: ENDGAME SPOILERS!!)

THE ONE WITH THE GOLDFISH — DRABBLE

YOUR NIECE LOVES MAKING A MESS.

THE ONE WITH THE DRUNK LOVER — DRABBLE

YOU HAD A GIRLS NIGHT AND WENT A LITTLE OVERBOARD.

THE ONE WITH YOUR NIECE — DRABBLE

YOUR NIECE GIVES TONY THE BEST CROWN AROUND.

THE ONE WITH THE DINNER CONTRACT — DRABBLE

YOU AND TONY ARE BACK FROM TRAVELING TO VISIT YOUR FAMILY AND FIND THAT JET LAG IS A GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING.

THE ONE WITH THE DOG — DRABBLE

TRYING TO CONVINCE TONY STARK TO GET A DOG FOR THE AVENGERS IS HARD UNTIL THOR IS BROUGHT INTO THE MIX.

THE ONE WITH THE PEPPERMINT — DRABBLE

TONY OFFERS YOU A DRINK YOU HAVE TO REFUSE.

LOKI ODINSON/LAUFEYSON

THE ONE WITH THE TRICKSTER — DRABBLE

LOKI WOKE YOU UP BY GIVING YOU A WET-WILLIE.

THE ONE WITH THE BOZO — DRABBLE

AT STARK AND POTTS ILLUSTRATED, LOKI BULLIES YOU OVER YOUR HEIGHT.

THE ONE WITH OTHELLO — DRABBLE

LOKI WAS READING OTHELLO WHEN HE MET HIS SOULMATE.

THE ONE WITH THE GUN — DRABBLE

YOU THOUGHT SOMEONE BROKE INTO YOUR ROOM.

THE ONE WHERE THOR RETALIATED — DRABBLE

LOKI GOT A RETRACTABLE KNIFE AS A GIFT. YOU HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE AFTERMATH OF HIS ACTIONS, AS USUAL.

THE ONE WITH TRYING NEW THINGS — DRABBLE

LOKI TRIES TO ACT LIKE A MIDGARDIAN WHEN YOU NEED TO SHOP FOR A STARK GALA.

THE ONE WITH DEVELOPING POWERS — DRABBLE

YOU’RE FREEZING GLASSES OF WATER. LOKI’S THERE FOR HELP.

THE ONE WITH TRYING NEW THINGS — DRABBLE

LOKI ACCOMPANIES YOU TO PREPARE FOR STARK’S GALA AND TRIES MIDGARDIAN FOOD.

THE ONE WITH THE ASGARDIAN BALL — DRABBLE

YOU’RE PROVING TO ODIN YOU CAN ATTEND A BALL.

KISSES AND CONSTELLATIONS — ONESHOT

YOU AND LOKI ARE CHILDHOOD SWEETHEARTS, NAVIGATING YOUR FIRST DATE. IT’S AWKWARD, UNTIL YOU REALIZE YOU HAD NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT AT ALL.

SHIRTLESS WONDERS — ONESHOT

WHEN YOU GO LOOKING FOR LOKI, YOU FIND THAT IN THE MIDST OF BATTLE HE HAD BEEN INJURED. WHILE TENDING TO HIS WOUNDS, SOME THINGS COME TO LIGHT.

JOYRIDE — ONESHOT

YOU’RE HEADING BACK TO YOUR APARTMENT AFTER A GAME NIGHT AT A FRIEND’S PLACE WHEN YOU ENCOUNTER LOKI FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE HIS INVASION IN 2012.

BUCKY BARNES

THE ONE WITH THE COOKING SHOW — DRABBLE

YOU DIDN’T EXPECT YOUR BOYFRIEND TO GET HEATED OVER A SHOW.

THE ONE WITH THE SNOWBALL FIGHT — DRABBLE

A SNOW DAY WITH THE WINTER SOLDIER

THE ONE WITH THE ORIGINAL COKE — DRABBLE

A 1940′S COKE IS HARD TO FIND NOW-A-DAYS.

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imaginesbyem · 5 years

Text

Phase 2 - Theo Raeken

Request: Could you do a Theo Reaken Jealousy Imagine? ☺️❤️

Summary: Secret love notes cause (Y/N) and Lydia to devise a plan. Make her secret crush so jealous, he comes out of hiding.

"Woah there, (Y/N). I think you’ve had one too many. Or maybe 5 too many” Stiles says as he grabs ahold of my shoulders. I blink my eyes rapidly noticing the spinning room now that I’m stood still.

“Stiles, Silly! It’s my birthday. Of course I’m going to get drunk!” I laugh, slapping my hand onto his shoulder for both support and drunk comedic effect.

“Do you want to sit down?”

“Not yet! I’m still only in phase 2.”

“What? You’ve definitely had too much.”

“Stiles, hands off. Phase 2 is the hardest phase and you’re not screwing that up!” says an also obviously tipsy Lydia.

“Not you too...”

“Look, Stiles. (Y/N) has a secret lover boy who we’re wanting to uncover tonight. She’s been getting all these random notes in her locker and presents for the past 3 weeks.”

“Oh that’ll end well. So what’s Phase 2 then?”

“Phase 1: Show up looking totally hot. Tick!” Lydia gestures to (Y/N).

“Phase 2: Gain the attention of all suspects.” (Y/N) slurs. Stiles looks on in awe as she stumbles while not even moving anywhere.

“Phase 3: Flirt with one of our allies to make them jealous.” Lydia continues.

“And finally, Phase 4: move upstairs and have them come to me. Perfect!” (Y/N) interrupts.

“So who are the suspects?” Stiles finally gives in.

“Okay, possible loverboy one; Isaac Lahey. Just came back from overseas and suddenly two weeks later, (Y/N) starts getting her gifts.” Stiles looks over at the rugged up boy on the couch sipping his drink and tapping his foot away to the music. “Boy two; Brett Talbot. He’s been openly flirty with (Y/N), along with a few other girls for a while now.” Brett stands next to the fridge talking to a girl while his eyes keep flicking over. “Boy three; Jackson Whittemore. His recent change of heart in wanting to be a better person matches the timeline of when (Y/N) started receiving gifts.” Jackson was stood by the snack table, visibly uncomfortable with how out of place he was.

“Okay, well how about someone like Scott? Or Liam? Guys that are close to (Y/N)?” Stiles quizzes.

“You think you can keep your mouth shut long enough for me not to find out if Scott liked me? You tell Lydia everything, and she tells me everything!” I laughed. Stiles looked over at Lydia who just shrugged. He knew he wouldn’t win this battle.

“And Liam?”

“Liam’s not mature enough to write the things (Y/N) has been receiving. I’ve never read something so mysteriously raw.” Stiles looks slightly offended by Lydia’s comment. “Oh, you know I’m not counting you, babe.”

“So they’re all the suspects?” Stiles asks.

“Well, they’re our main ones. There’s always a possibility of it being someone like Derek that we just don’t expect but he doesn’t have the ability to deliver the notes without help and I’ve never seen him display any kind of love. The closest I’ve seen is probably when he went missing for a few days and ate for the first time.” Lydia laughed.

“Okay, you guys are distracting me. I gotta get the guys attention.” I say quickly before looking down at my phone. “Shit, it’s already 11:30?! Everyone will probably start leaving soonish. I gotta move fast.”

I pull Lydia onto the middle of the floor with me and start dancing. She focuses on looking around and making sure the guys are watching while I try to focus on putting on a show. I run my hands along my body as I move to the beat of the song.

“Got them” Lydia whispers in my ear.

“What should I do now?” I ask. Lydia has acted as my mentor this entire time. I was dependant on everything she said.

“Phase 3.”

“Whos the ally?” As I’m looking around trying to find who Lydia would have picked to aid our plan, my eyes meet with Theo’s. He gives me a small smile that looks somewhat pure. I stop moving and smile back. He looks like he’s going to come over. What do I say? I’ve only spoken to him a few times and he’s definitely not someone you want to embarrass yourself in front of.

“There he is.” Lydia says as she pushes me backwards. I stumble back and fall into Scott’s arms.

“Woah. You feeling okay, (Y/N)?” He laughs.

“Oh, Scott. Thank god you caught me I thought I was gonna die for a minute there!” I let out my breath. “So you’re aware of Lydia’s plan?” I giggled.

“As of about 10 minutes ago. She forced Stiles to force me” He joked which made me feel guilty.

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“no, no, no. I phrased that wrong. Look, I’m more than happy to help you out. After everything with Kira I’m in need of some girl company again. And not like that, just... Wow I’m bad with words.” He laughs at himself.

“Well, that’s how we know you’re not our loverboy!” I laughed. “But seriously, Scott. You’re a great guy. Don’t worry about a lack of girl company in your life right now. You don’t want to rush something that isn’t meant to be. You could ruin something great by doing that!” I said realising I was trying to do just that. Tonight was all about rushing something along. What if this whole plan scares off my secret admirer.

“God I’m an idiot.” I say out loud. “Sorry, Scott. I need a second alone.” I say before making my way upstairs. I could see how clearly confused he was and afraid that he had said something wrong.

I sat on the bathroom floor with my head in my hands, thinking about my life choices. Why was I like this? Why do I always get so obsessive and crazy about trying to keep control. I couldn’t bare not knowing who had secret feelings for me. And now I might have ruined the chance at ever finding out. Great job, (Y/N).

“Hey, you okay?” I look up to see Theo standing at the door with a glass of water in his hand.

“Hey, yeah. Just needed a break.”

“Was it Scott? Did he do something?”

“No, no! Scott’s been great. I’ve just been an idiot.”

“Great huh? He’s okay I guess.” I laugh at his reply as he sits beside me on the ground. “So what stupid thing did you do this time.” I lightly chuckle at his joke before exhaling deeply.

“It’s hard to explain.”

“I’ve got time.” He smiles.

“You know, for the whole bad guy persona, you’re really not that bad.”

“Me? The one who literally tore his sisters heart from her chest.”

“Okay, please don’t remind me about that.”

“Sorry. I should think more before speaking.”

“No, it’s okay.” I smile softly, still a bit off put. “Anyway, theres this guy who Lydia and I wanted to show off to tonight.” I see Theo visibly tense and I pause for a second. “I know, not something typical me would do. Anyway. There’s a guy who’s been leaving me random letters in my locker, sending me flowers at work, and all this other romantic stuff, but I have no idea who it is. So Lydia came up with a plan that tonight at my party we’d invite all the suspects and try to force them to act on their emotions through making them jealous. But... here I am.”

“With me. Is that so bad?” Theo laughs slightly, but I could tell he wanted a serious answer.

“Of course not. I just feel like I’ve scared him away for good.”

“So who were the suspects?” Theo asks.

“Uhhh. Isaac, Jackson, Brett. Lydia thought Derek possibly... I don’t know. It’s a long list that she worked out.”

“Was I on it?” He asks, more serious now.

“I-uh. I don’t think so?” I ask confused.

“Maybe she should leave the detective work to her boyfriend then.” He snorts.

“What do you mean?” I ask, already knowing the answer. He looks back at me with a stupid smile, feeling half excited to get it off his chest, but half nervous about what my response will be.

“I may not appear to be the most romantic guy, but I’ve been saving a few moves up from movies and conversations I’ve overheard.” He pulls the side of his lip up into a half smile, feeling completely vulnerable now.

“Wow.”

“You’re not... disappointed are you?”

“What? Of course not! I just definitely did not see that coming!” I exclaimed. He looks down at the ground, obviously taking that as a bad thing. Shit. Quick (Y/N), fix this. “So. When are you taking me out?” I nudge him with my shoulder.

“You don’t have to humour me, (Y/N).” Theo hides his pain with a smile.

“Don’t be stupid. I’d love to see what’s under this whole bad boy persona.” He smirks. “No, I don’t mean what’s under your clothes. Although now that I think about it that wouldn’t be too bad.” I laugh. He leans in to kiss me but before he can, I put my fingers against his lips. “As perfect as this moment is, I’m not having my first kiss with you next to a toilet that has probably been vomited in 20 times tonight.” I stand up and pull him up by his arms.

“Thats a poor excuse to get me into your bedroom.” He jokes.

“Are you complaining?” He shakes his head no before following me eagerly.

A/N: Hey, so this ended up taking a very different turn to what I was going to write. I thought it might be interesting to show a different type of jealousy to what Theo’s generally portrayed as. I’m definitely feeling like writing a more angsty jealousy imagine which I’ll start up soon, but yeah like I said I found this idea of a reserved jealousy fascinating with his character!

#teen wolf #teenwolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf imagine #theo #theo raeken #theo fluff #theo raeken imagine #theo raeken imagines #cody christian #cody christian imagine #cody christian imagines

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teamfreewill2pointo · 5 years

Text

So I admit. On my first watch through, I thought Michael was just Lucifer x2; wanting to burn the world due to daddy issues. Next time through and when I rewatched certain scenes, I started realizing it was more than that.

First of all, Michael is a liar. He tells Jack that Dean doesn’t love him because he’s not Sam and Castiel, but a burden. BUT he also tells Sam and Castiel that Dean doesn’t love them and they are just burdens too. Dean said that the night Sam left was the worst night of his life, while Michael says Dean was happy. We can’t trust what MIchael says at face value. I do think, though, that he’s being 100% honest in this scene.

We can assume there are some differences between these two Michaels, but OG Michael said that he loved his brother and I suspect that it’s true of this Michael as well.

In The Song Remains the Same (5.13), we have this conversation:

DEAN: Oh, I get it. You got beef with your brother. Well, get some therapy, pal. Don’t take it out on my planet! MICHAEL: You’re wrong. Lucifer defied our father, and he betrayed me. But still…I don’t want this any more than you would want to kill Sam. MICHAEL: You know, my brother, I practically raised him. I took care of him in a way most people could never understand, and I still love him.

In Swan Song (5.22), the they say this to each other:

LUCIFER: A part of me wishes we didn’t have to do this. MICHAEL: Yeah. Me too.

Both Michaels believed they must kill their brother. But, notice how this Michael said, “We thought God would come back and give us answers.” [Emphasis mine] I don’t think he thought that Lucifer would stay dead. We know that archangels can be resurrected by God. He may not have thought Lucifer would even die in the first place. I think he thought it was a test, like the story of Abraham and Isaac from the bible, where God initially asks Abraham to kill his beloved, but intervenes before it can happen. [I suspect that’s why this story was brought up by the cast at Jaxcon 2018]

Michael killed Lucifer and nothing. No God. Nothing. Look at him in that gif above. He’s broken.

In The Executioner’s Song (10.14), Cain warns Dean what will happen if he kills Sam

CAIN: Then would come the murder you’d never survive, the one that would finally turn you into as much of a savage as it did me. DEAN: No. CAIN: Your brother, Sam.

Killing Lucifer turned Michael savage. Imagine what Dean would be like if he had killed Sam at the end of season 10. He’d burn through worlds. He’d want to kill God. When Michael attacks Jack, Castiel, and Sam, he’s not just preying on their insecurities, he’s also exposing his own.

He tells Jack that when Jack died, Dean only pretended to be sad. He says Dean wasn’t happy per se, but that:

We know that Dean cared enough to risk pissing off a powerful deity. We know that Dean loves Jack. But this is what happened to Michael. Lucifer died and God didn’t care. Michael thought that God cared about him and loved him and his brother only to be met with silence. Michael sees himself as just a job in Chuck’s eyes.

When it comes to Castiel, Michael says that Dean only tolerates him because he saved Dean from hell. He says

But again, we know this isn’t how Dean really feels. We know that Dean thinks Castiel is family. Again, this is about Michael feeling that he failed his dad. This is Michael thinking of all the mistakes he made. What I especially find interesting is how he goes after Sam. With Jack and Castiel, it’s more about how Dean only pretends to care about them. With Sam, He first states that Dean was happiest hunting with dad. This is so untrue, it’s practically laughable. Dean spends a lot of season 1 begging Sam to come join him and then stay with him.

In the Pilot, Sam points out that Dean is capable of finding Dad on his own and Dean says he doesn’t want to.

In Shadow (1.16), this theme is repeated.

SAM: But there’s got to be somethin’ that you want for yourself— DEAN: Yeah, I don’t want you to leave the second this thing’s over, Sam.

SAM: Dude, what’s your problem?

DEAN: Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?

SAM: ‘Cause Dad was in trouble. ‘Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom.

DEAN: Yes, that, but it’s more than that, man.

But it is likely true of Michael and his relationship with God and Lucifer. Michael was likely happiest when he had God’s attention and thought he would be rewarded for being loyal. Michael quickly switches tactics and he’s almost defensive of Dean when he berates Sam for abandoning Dean.

I do think Dean has huge abandonment issues that Michael is picking up on. We find that out even in season 1, Skin (1.06)

and it’s a repeating theme throughout the seasons. Also because of Sacrifice, Michael knows that Sam has issues with his self worth due to the times he thinks he’s failed/abandoned Dean.

But Michael has huge abandonment issues too. He’s burning through worlds because he was abandoned by his own father. In his mind, the unforgivable sin God committed was abandonment, and he blames his brother for that.

In Swan Song, Michael berates Lucifer for his actions

Michael: We were together. We were happy. But you betrayed me – all of us – and you made our father leave.

But what did Lucifer do that was the betrayal? In The End (5.04), Lucifer says:

LUCIFER: You know why God cast me down? Because I loved him. More than anything. And then God created… You. The little…hairless apes. And then he asked all of us to bow down before you—to love you, more than him. And I said, “Father, I can’t.” I said, “These human beings are flawed, murderous.” And for that, God had Michael cast me into hell.

Both Lucifer and Sam rebelled against their fathers. Both refused to do what their fathers wanted and, for that, they were cast out of the family, which set in motion a chain of events which resulted in the father abandoning the son who’d stayed loyal. Michael berating Sam is also Michael berating his own little brother. Michael says, “You don’t need them. You don’t even like them. They’re not your family - they’re your responsibilities. They’re a weight around your neck. And deep down, you wanted - you were desperate to get away from them. And that is why you said ‘yes’.” Again, we know this is not true. I’m sure Sam and Castiel do worry that it’s true. But, I think it’s also Michael saying what he wishes would happen. He wishes he could be happy without his family, but he’s not, it’s destroying him. He’s full of rage and likely guilt. He wants his dad and brother. Just like Dean, he wants to be a family again.

Here we have Michael and Lucifer, two sons with daddy issues. The younger brother wants an apology. The older brother wants acceptance and acknowledgement of his loyalty. They both want to be loved by their father, but don’t feel that they are. Should be really interesting to see what happens when John returns.

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illyrianwingspans · 4 years

Text

Do Not Go Gentle: Mr. Rattlebone

Link to song

Synopsis: Feyre and Rhys deal with the fallout.

TW: Blood, trauma, dark thoughts.

Ao3 link

Chapter 7: Mr. Rattlebone

The gun was clutched between my fingers. I couldn’t let it go.

Kneeling in the pool of blood, I clutched the bringer of death as though it were life itself. Blood soaked the clothes on my body, the skin of my face, my shaking hands. It was everywhere. All I kept wondering about was, What are they going to do with the bodies? These people must have had families. Drug pushers or not, there were people out there who cared about them, who loved them, yet I was here, lying in their blood.

And Tamlin was across the country on a business meeting.

There was a crash from outside, and I didn’t flinch as the storage room’s garage door opened. Footsteps ran to my side, and Rhys dropped on his knees before me.

“Feyre,” he pleaded, his eyes searching mine. But I couldn’t look at him. I was only focused on the blood surrounding me, the bodies before me. There was room for nothing else.

“Where does it hurt? Tell me where it hurts?” He demanded.

“Everywhere,” I choked out. The gun rattled in my hands as I began to shake. “He, um, he hit my head and my arms, and at some point I think he punched me in the chest—”

Rhys’s fingers were gentle as he pushed back the strands of hair covering my face then prodded the wound on my forehead. I winced, and he shook his head.

“I have to call the police.”

“Rhys, you can’t—” Panic exploded in my chest. I couldn’t get arrested. No, I wouldn’t, not when I was put here in the first place by other people—

“You’re too hurt. There’s too much of a mess to clean up to keep it under the radar.”

“No, you don’t understand,” I pleaded, eyes wide, voice trembling, then reached up to grip the lapels of his jacket. “I can’t be a criminal. I can’t, I can’t—” I burst into sobs, and he sighed, then pulled me into his arms.

He didn’t care that I was soaked in blood. Blood of the two people I’d just murdered, laying no more than a few feet away from us. Rhys held me as I swore and cursed the Gods for everything that’d happened to lead me where I was today, in the back of a coffee shop, with the blood of two people on my hands.

“It was self-defence, darling,” he murmured into my ear, “they were going to kill you, and they would’ve thought nothing about it. You’d be dead if you hadn’t. No one in their right minds would even try to make an arrest.”

“Please,” I choked out, “please. Don’t call them.”

He pulled away so that we both faced each other. There was pain, so much pain in those star-speckled eyes. Rhys only nodded his head once. “I’ll get someone to clean this.”

“Thank you,” I sighed, and he only brushed the side of my arm in response before scooping me into his arms and bringing me out the back door where his car waited.

At some point the car began to drive, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t say or think or feel much at all besides the second skin enveloping me. Copper and iron stench stuck to me, and my mouth was filled with the acrid taste. All around me, buildings upon buildings passed by, only barely visible with the thick fog coming off the Sidra, and Rhys was saying so many words that didn’t make sense to me. At some point I’m pretty sure he was screaming into a phone, but even that sounded like a foreign dialect. Then there was the sound of somebody saying to me through a stereo.

“Feyre,” the person said, and I finally closed my eyes as Tamlin’s voice filled the car. “Feyre, talk to me.”

“We, um,” the words were garbled and choked in my throat, “we need to order more coffee. I destroyed most of it trying to find the shipment.”

“Feyre, I need you to calm down. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I think we’re also out of brown sugar. You know the uh,” I cleared my throat and my fingers clutched the edge of the seat, trying to get a grasp on anything I could, “the brown ethical sugar that no one ever takes? We finally ran out of that. Yeah, um, we need more.”

“Feyre.” Only it sounded like a disappointment. Fitting.

Rhys looked to me sidelong in the car, and the stars in his eyes seemed dim today. Then the phone was pressed back against his ear. He uttered under his breath, “She’s in shock, you inconsiderate fuck.”

The world kept moving so fast outside of the car, and I decided to focus on that for now instead of the screaming inside of my head. Because I was screaming, screaming bloody terror.

At some point, though, the car went quiet, and all that was left was the sound of the tires against the road. Even our breaths seemed quiet in the small space we shared, like we were scared to disrupt the bubble of peace we’d finally found in the midst of the chaos.

Rhys looked at me, though. I could feel his stare piercing through me every few seconds. It was enough that at some point I turned my head fractionally to stare back. That’s when he finally said, “What can I do?”

What could he do? How could he make this any better? At this point, all efforts felt like slapping bandaids on bullet wounds.

So I only reached out towards him, and he took my hand in his. The warmth enveloping my fingers made the feeling of the blood recede.

Rhysand stepped out of the car after pulling into the driveway of a townhouse. It reminded me of those New York Brownstones, and I kept wondering where he was taking me. I closed my eyes and sat back in my seat, wishing that everything else would finally fade away around me. For a few seconds, it seemed like I would finally get some peace. Isaac’s panicked eyes flashed into my mind, along with the deafening sound of the gun shots, and the air left my lungs.

Only the door opened beside me, and I was thrust back into reality once more. Rhys said gently, “Let’s go, Feyre.”

“Where…” I trailed off, unmoving despite his beckoning gestures, “why aren’t you taking me home?”

Rhys looked me up and down and sighed. “I can’t risk bringing you home. If whoever’s after Tamlin has tracked you to the coffee shop, they’ll probably know where you live, too. Right now this is the safest spot.”

“Where are we?”

Rhys swallowed hard. “My personal residence. It’s only until Tamlin gets back.”

I nodded my head, and Rhys reached around me to unbuckle my seatbelt, then gently slipped his arm around my waist to help me step out of the car. The street was deathly quiet and covered by the thick, heavy fog emanating from the river. A perfect set-up for the opening scene or a murder mystery movie.

Only the murders had already been committed.

The townhouse was quiet. Dark. Rhys flicked on a few lights and warned me to touch nothing. If we were to not call the police, then I had to be very careful of everything I touched. Though touching Rhysand wasn’t a problem. When I asked him, all he said was, “If you’re going down, then I may as well go down with you.”

He carefully carried me up the stairs, because apparently the blood had soaked my shoes as well. I was deposited in the washroom, instructed to wash myself off as best as I could and that he’d bleach everything as soon as I was done.

When the door shut behind me, something within me broke. Until then, I’d tried to hold it together. I’d tried to make it seem like this was alright, this was fine, that this was just another day in the fucking life, but when he left, I became undone.

There’s something so…feral, about falling apart. About losing yourself. The moment when you feel like the part of you that’s you becomes a ghost, and that you’re only the monster left after life’s parasitic fangs drained you of all that’s humane.

Everything within me collapsed. And I was nothing but madness and mania trying to scrub away the stains of the person I’d left behind in that storage room.

A knock echoed through the room. I crouched over the sink, scrubbing furiously at the skin beneath my nails.

“Feyre? Can I come in?” Reluctance tinted the words, as though he didn’t want to disturb me.

I croaked, “Yes. But I’m not done yet.”

The door opened with a click behind me anyways. I’d managed to scrape off most of everything on my torso and legs and arms, but all that was left were my hands. Even my hair had been soaked with the stuff—I had to draw three baths before the water stopped turning pink.

“There was just so much of it, it got all over my hands. It won’t come out.”

My eyes lifted to the mirror to see Rhysand standing behind me, his expression grim. His eyes trailed down to where my hands worked furiously in the sink splashing water onto the pruned skin.

“Feyre,” he murmured softly.

“What?” I snapped.

That’s when he took two quick steps forward, then gently placed both hands on mine beneath the stream of running water.

“No, you can’t, you’ll get contaminated—”

“Your hands are clean.”

The water in the sink turned off as I sobbed silently.

“Your hands are clean.”

Devastation bloomed in Rhys’s eyes when I turned around, fresh tears streaming down my face. “I don’t believe you.”

He blinked, his eyes searching my face, before kneeling down and retrieving a wash basin from his vanity cupboard, along with a clean sponge, a towel and more soap. The sound of the bath water running echoed throughout the silent house.

“Sit,” he murmured and patted the lid of the tub. Absentmindedly, I perched on the ledge of the stand-alone bath, watching the basin fill with a lathery foam as it sat in the tub beneath the flowing water. When it was half-way full, Rhys turned the water off, laid the towel across his lap and beckoned for me.

I placed my hand in his. Carefully, he dipped the sponge into the foamy lather, then glided it across the palm of my hand.

The knot in my chest loosened as he worked the sponge across each individual finger. Every knuckle, joint and crevice was scrubbed with a gentle pressure that had my eyes drooping. Finally I could feel the essence of it, the trace of the stains, ebbing away. He repeated the motions with my left. His touch was feather light, soothing, appeasing. Neither of us said a word, even when Rhys poured out the water of the basin, which was just as clear as when he’d started.

The two of us were left perched on the lid of the bath tub. My eyes trained on the white floor tile. Pink water remained on its surface, and I wondered if it was my blood, or James’ or Isaac’s.

“None of this is your fault. You know that, right?”

The words echoed through my mind. They were the promise of something good, something hopeful.

I was afraid that I wasn’t capable of such feelings anymore.

“This isn’t your world. You would’ve never been in this situation in the first place. Even though you are, what you did in there, you did it to survive. In the given circumstances—ones you had no choice in—you did what you had to to stay alive. And that is not your fault, no matter what anyone says.”

Choice. I’d chosen to be with Tamlin. I’d chosen to take his hand in marriage. I’d chosen to trust him, to believe that I was safe.

I chose to love Tamlin. To protect him. To stay with him, despite the fact that I could’ve walked away at any moment. And this is what that protection—what that love—cost me.

“I pulled the trigger,” I said hollowly. “I could’ve aimed at their limbs instead of their chests. I could’ve called the police instead of you. I could’ve ran or lied my way out of it—”

“Feyre—” Rhys protested, his eyes wide with objection.

“I pulled the trigger.” I repeated, pushing away from the tub. “That’s the choice I made, Rhysand. That’s who I am.”

#dngg #acotar #acomaf #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #sjm #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #feyre #rhys #feysand #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction

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im-no-jedi · 4 years

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soooooooo idk why I haven’t shared this up until now, but yes, this is in fact a playlist for the Misfits c:

this has been my go-to playlist for pretty much everything ever since I created it last year. I listen to it in the car, in the shower, when I’m writing, or anytime I need a pick-me-up. I’m sure I’ll be adding more songs to it at some point, but 26 is a pretty big number imo LOL

here’s a list of the songs and descriptions of why I think they fit the Misfits:

Immortals - Fall Out Boy: we’re Guardians. we’re immortal. nuff said.

Reckless - Jaxson Gamble: sometimes it’s good to have a well thought out plan. and sometimes it’s good to be spontaneous. but most of the time? just do whatever tf you want. who cares if you break everything. just mcfrickin’ lose it, my dude.

Radioactive - Imagine Dragons: we live in a war. no matter what anybody says, we are always at war. it’s messy and it’s gritty and it takes a lot out of us. but we’re ready for it. bring it on, suckers.

Burn - Ellie Goulding: as Guardians, we have what some might call “superhero powers”. between blasting dozens of different kinds of firearms at the enemies, to popping off our Super abilities at any given moment, we light up the place wherever we go. subtlety is not in our vocabulary. (also Solar is the best subclass, fight me c:)

Breakthrough - Britt Nicole: being a Guardian means that you’re totally fearless and are ok with doing anything asked of you, right? LOL NOPE. we may have super powers, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t human. each of us have something we’re afraid of, and it can feel like those fears are holding us back. but we press on. we fight. we beat back the fears and evils of this world. “Destiny can’t be denied.”

Live Like Legends - Ruelle: each of us have done some pretty cool stuff, not gonna lie. we’re legit godslayers, yo B)

We Will Rock You - Queen: I had to put this one in here, come on. come on.

We Are The Champions - Queen: see above comment XD

Heroes - Zayde Wolf: the Darkness is all around us. it’s been trying to suppress the Light ever since the Traveler arrived on Earth. some of us even dabble in the Darkness. but we will bring light to the darkest places.

Infinite (Unsung Heroes) - Built By Titan feat. Joel Smallbone: sometimes it’s the little things that make the biggest impact. we don’t only slay gods. we do what we do for the ones who can’t protect themselves. and we don’t need the fanfare (despite what Rocky wants LOL).

Digital - Imagine Dragons: “I want a new world without the order, I wanna resurrect and live a little shorter.” “We don’t wanna change, we just wanna change everything.”

Immigrant Song - Led Zeppelin: legit just imagine that scene at the end of Thor Ragnarok when the Revengers are all fighting together and that’s a stereotypical strike for the Misfits LOL

Welcome to the Show - Britt Nicole: ok, ngl, some of us are kiiiiind of full of ourselves (callin you out Uldren and Rocky :P). it’s kinda hard not to, being literal godslayers and all. so it’s no wonder we like to be a bit flashy when we work. might as well put on a show while we’re killing things, right??

Up Up and Away - Blush: all Guardians have a spaceship, it’s how we travel from planet to planet, so we all know how it feels to fly. some of us are... not so great at piloting (*cough*Rocky*cough*), but the ability to fly is something we all experience on an almost daily basis. it’s a perfect metaphor for the pure thrill we experience as Guardians.

Determinate - Lemonade Mouth: you know when you think up those weird AUs for your characters like, oh let’s say, a band AU or something like that? yeah...

Warriors - Imagine Dragons: I have most definitely thought of a medieval AU for these guys before. no, I will not elaborate further.

Guardian - Lindsey Sterling: I mean... do I even need to explain this one. it’s... it’s right there, come on :P

Skullclub - The Glitch Mob: this is one of those songs I imagine playing in the background during one of our missions, kind of like Immigrant Song. also, literally the only lyrics in this song are “we are the wild ones”, so yeah, it fits XD

Pizza - Martin Garrix: same as above, another song I imagine playing in the background during a mission. and in a modern AU, our go-to after mission meal (our shawarma, if you will) would absolutely be pizza c:

Meet Me on the Battlefield - Svrcina: for Matt. this song can honestly apply to the team dynamic as a whole, but lbr, nobody on the team is more willing to lay down their life for the others than my sweet hansom cowboy ♥♥♥

What’s Up Danger - Blackway & Black Caviar: for Rocky. oh Rocky. you reckless wonder. always living for the thrill and the glory. you big himbo, you.

Believer - Imagine Dragons: for Isaac. for a man of very few words, you sure do have a lot to say. you act aloof, but I know you care as much, if not more, than everyone else around you. your past hardened you, but you persevered and took control of your own life. people think they know this world. they think they know you. prove them wrong, precious.

The Dark of You - Breaking Benjamin: for Uldren. I could write an entire essay about why this is literally his theme song. oh man. I just... I’m sorry, Uldren. I’m sorry the world has been wicked to you. you deserved better ;3;

Confident - Demi Lovato: for Marvel. you do NOT mess with this girl. she will frick you up, and she will ENJOY it. you go girl. literally \o/

Vertical - T-Squad: for Ace. my energetic ball of sunshine. always doing his best while still striving to do better. you can’t stop this boy. you just can’t. there he go.

We Are Giants - Lindsey Sterling feat. Dia Frampton: alright, this one’s... kind of for me. I made the decision to self-insert into this story, and I haven’t regretted it once. and yes, I made myself the “main character” and “more powerful” or whatever, but you know what? there’s nothing wrong with that. sometimes you need to boost yourself up, and what better way to do that than imagine yourself as a literal godslayer amongst a group of other godslayers that you love more than breathing?? no regrets, yo.

Heroes (We could be) - Alesso feat. Tove Lo: what I consider to be the pinnacle theme for this group (our theme song, if you will). most of these songs are about feeling like you already are a hero as opposed to just the mere thought of being a hero. each of us have come from different walks of life, and although we each have our own unique powers, we choose to use those powers for the good of the world. Guardians aren’t born to be heroes. we choose to be heroes.

#this has been siting in my drafts forever my GOSH #will update this post as I add songs to the list #doesn't happen often but it does happen LOL #also no cover image cause my laptop is a dinosaur and hates everything :)))#Fireteam Misfit #my OCs

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thedornishprincess · 5 years

Text

g2k me uncomfortably well

I was tagged by @eatmyshiftsticky thanks sweetie !! :) I’m sorry to answer to this so late but this week at wasn’t home and I couldn’t do it. I’m so sorry to also be less active here but never forget I love you all and I miss you !!!

1. What is your middle name?

I don’t have any middle name. Just a first name :) Anthea

2. How old are you?

3. When is your birthday?

30th May

4. What is your zodiac sign?

Gemini !

5. What is your favourite colour?

Black, Purple & Red

6. What’s your lucky number?

Uhm well... 7

7. Do you have any pets?

Not anymore... my cat died a month ago. But my neighbor’s dog really love me and I considere him as my own dog :)

8. Where are you from?

France

9. How tall are you?

5′5

10. What shoe size are you?

8 US

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

Hard question !! I think... 10

12. What was your last dream about?

I can’t really remember but It was something really weird and at the same time awful. It was actually a fucking nightmare

13. What talents do you have?

I can do some twirl with my drumsticks, I dance pretty well and I think that’s all ! LOL

14. Are you psychic in any way?

I don’t think so

15. Favourite song?

Dammmmmm !!! I can’t choose !!! It’s so hard !! Who are you, the devil ??! LOL ok so.... Don’t you ever leave me Hanoi Rocks

16. Favourite movie?

The Lord of the Ring and Forrest Gump

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

A fucking rockstar ! LOL A man open-minded, who loves music, films and he’s really clever, cultured with whom I would speak about philosophy, history and litterature. A man who has long hair would be perfect by the way !

18. Do you want children?

Yeah why not ! But not now

19. Do you want a church wedding?

In France, you can marry only in a church or in a city hall so... I don’t know now

20. Are you religious?

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

Yes like a lot of people I suppose and many many times

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

nope, I don’t plan on i

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

Ok... I met a lot of celebrities, some are really famous and some not. This is a short list of celebrities I met : Richard Madden, Pilou Asbaek, Natalie Emmanuel, Eugene Simon, Joe Dempsie, Alfie Allen, Daniel Portman, Gemma Wheelan, Vladimir ‘Furdo’ Furdik, Isaac Hempstead-Wight, Iwan Rheon, Jerome Flynn, Iain Glenn, Jack Gleeson, Jacob Anderson and Duff Mckagan :) ( I met other celebrities but you may not know the name )

24. Baths or showers?

both

25. What color socks are you wearing?

white

26. Have you ever been famous?

Not sure ahhaha I’ve been interviewed few times but that’s all

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

I would ! maybe as an author or actress

28. What type of music do you like?

Rock ‘n Roll, Punk, hard rock, pop, soul funk...

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

I have never.

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

Only two but I’ve got 5 more pillows on my bed

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

i’m either on my right or my left side in the same position of a baby

32. How big is your house?

It’s a single-story but enough big for 4 persons

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

Orange juice with cake for eating ( in french the brand is ‘’ Bellevita ‘’ )

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

No I only did rifle shooting

35. Have you ever tried archery?

I’ve only really ever done archery during summer camp and it was a long time ago !

36. Favourite clean word?

Ok in French it’s ‘’ magnifique ‘’

37. Favorite swear word ?

In French again it’s ‘’ Va te faire foutre ! ‘’

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

One day only

39. Do you have any scars?

Yeah one in the back of my arm because I felt a year ago when I was doing fencing

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

No...

41. Are you a good liar?

Indeed I am. But I don’t like to lie.

42. Are you a good judge of character?

I’d like to think I’m good at reading people

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

British accent, german and spanish just for fun

44. Do you have a strong accent?

No in French and when I speak in English I try to have no French accent at all. My english teacher said that my english accent was a mix of an american, british and scottish accent. I can’t imagine it but why not LOL

45. What is your favourite accent?

British !!!!!

46. What is your personality type?

Crazy, shy, a bit lunatic and open-minded

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

I don’t really have exepensive piece of clothing... maybe the most expensive is about 90 euros

48. Can you curl your tongue?

nope

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

Innie.

50. Left or right-handed?

right-handed

51. Are you scared of spiders?

Fuck yeah

52. Favourite food?

Pizza

53. Favourite foreign food?

Chili !

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

I hate mess ! I’m fucking clean person

55. Most used phrase?

Even in French I speak in english and I say ‘’ anyway ‘’. In French I say always ‘’ genre ‘’

56. Most used word?

‘‘ Fuck ‘‘

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

An hour bc I stay around 20 minutes in my bed

58. Do you have much of an ego?

No, I don’t.

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

Suck them

60. Do you talk to yourself?

All the fucking time ! I’m asking questions to myself, talk in English to myself and having a conversation with myself. Yeah I’m crazy and so ?

61. Do you sing to yourself?

bitch yes, all the fucking time !!

62. Are you a good singer?

I like to think that I’m okay ( but that’s not true )

63. Biggest Fear?

Being Deaf

64. Are you a gossip?

Not really

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

Forrest Gump !

66. Do you like long or short hair?

I don’t mind either way but long hair....dammmmmmm !! That’s my weakness

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

You’re funny girl ! Not at all !

68. Favourite school subject?

History

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

Introvert

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

nope

71. What makes you nervous?

A lot of things

72. Are you scared of the dark?

Nope... sometime yeah but I’m gonna say no bc most of the time I’m not

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

depends what kind of mistakes we’re taking here.

74. Are you ticklish?

yes, and I fucken hate it.

75. Have you ever started a rumour?

I don’t think I ever have

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

No LOL maybe few times but I can’t remember

77. Have you ever drank underage?

yeah maybe a glass but just one

78. Have you ever done drugs?

79. Who was your first real crush?

I’ve never really had a crush on a real person... but when I was a kind I had a crush on Aladdin from tht disney movie

80. How many piercings do you have?

Just my ears but I want more .

81. Can you roll your R’s?

a little, but only for like two seconds.

82. How fast can you type?

As fast as I can lol

83. How fast can you run?

... i hate running

84. What colour is your hair?

black, dark brown

85. What color is your eyes?

green and brown

86. What are you allergic to?

mushrooms and some medicine

87. Do you keep a journal?

No just a book where I write my ideas for my story I’m currently writting

88. What do your parents do?

My mother works in a hospital and my father is an electrician

89. Do you like your age?

Yeah...

90. What makes you angry?

A lot of things, but I’ve learnt to control it ( not always...)

91. Do you like your own name?

I love it !

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

I have. Boy names : Peter, Michael, James. Girl names : Arwen, Diana, Alice

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

I don’t have any preference

94. What are you strengths?

I don’t know ahahah

95. What are your weaknesses?

I can be very touchy

96. How did you get your name?

Long story !!!!! But my name came from a french metal band and so now I’m the mascotte of the band. ( send me a dm for more details ahah )

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

Nope

98. Do you have any scars?

I’ve seen this question somewhere else...

99. Colour of your bedspread?

White

100. Colour of your room?

Grey, purple and white

I’m not going to tag someone bc I’ve got to sleep right now or tomorrow I’m gonna look like a shit LOL

Love you all !!! XXX

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derangedangel · 6 years

Text

Just a Fool - Isaac Lahey

Summary: Part 2 to Don’t be a Fool semi based on this song

Isaac Lahey x Reader

Word Count: 3,133

Author’s Note: Finally! After a year I’m finally posting part 2. There wasn’t initially supposed to be a part 2 because I wanted you all to suffer lol but I got such good feed back I decided to write this. It took forever to find a song, which I know it wasn’t necessary but you know I like song fics. Also, you can thank @afterglowparker for me finally posting this. I started on this months ago and didn’t know how to finish it, but her tagging me for Fanfic Writer Appreciation Day gave me the strength to finish it.

Masterlist

Another shot of whiskey please bartender Keep it coming til I don't remember at all How bad it hurts when you're gone

It had been about 5 months since you and Isaac broke up and it still hurt. When you went home for summer break, things got better. Nothing at home really reminded you of Isaac. Except for when the movies you would watch together came on TV. Or when you went to your favorite burger place you would always make Isaac take you to on weekends. Alright, a lot of things reminded you of Isaac. Things got even worse when school started up again. Since you and Isaac had different majors and you already took all your prerequisites, you didn’t have to worry about having the same class. But occasionally you would see him around campus. Your sorority sisters were usually with you and when one of them would see even a glimpse of him, they would turn you in the other direction. None of your other breakups had been this bad.

You spent a lot of weekends cooped up in your room in your sorority house. Either moping or doing homework. You were still pretty active around campus, but when there wasn’t somewhere you were required to be, you could be found in yoga pants and oversized t-shirt laying on your bed.

Your sisters thought it would be a good idea to get you out the house by taking you to a party. One of the fraternities on campus was having a little get together which meant everyone at school would be there. Isaac really wasn’t one for parties so you weren’t concerned about running into him. You never had to drag him to one because he was more than happy to go anywhere with you. But he wouldn’t be caught dead at a party on his own.

Maybe tomorrow it won't be this hard Who am I kidding? I know what I'm missing

Isaac was seated on the old brown leather sofa with a solo cup in hand. He was using the drink more as prop than actually drinking it. Some of his teammates were trying to get him out of his funk. Ever since the two of you broke up, he went back to his old ways. Sulking in his sadness. But instead of it being the guilt from living when Allison was dead, it was because of you.

He had no one to blame but himself. He let you walk out of his life. Isaac constantly tried to convince himself it was because he was protecting you, which it was. Dating a werewolf wasn’t easy or safe. Especially now with Monroe’s hunters killing any supernatural creature they could get their hands on. There was no telling what they would do to you to get to him. Regardless of the reason behind your breakup, it still hurt. It hurt him being apart from you and it hurt him knowing he caused you pain. He always knew when you were near. He saw the look of sadness on your face when you noticed him then turned in the opposite direction. Isaac started to wish he never got close to you in the first place to prevent all this heartache.

A frat guy and a girl in a tight mini skirt dropped onto the spot next to Isaac on the couch. He rolled his eyes then lifted his cup up to his lips. His eyes scanned across the party and landed on you. His eyes gazed over your body. From your black booties, up your destressed jeans, to your black and white striped crop top. A guy he didn’t recognized was leaning a little too close to you for his liking. Isaac’s jaw clenched as he watched you fake smile at the guy. He wanted to get up and interrupt your conversation, but he lost those privileges.

Isaac watched your eyes scan across the crowded room. He started getting nervous when your eyes got closer to him. When your eyes finally met, your expression didn’t change. Your face was flat and cold. Isaac thought that meant you moved on. That it didn’t matter if you saw him or not. But it was the complete opposite.

You tried to keep your composer when your eyes met Isaac’s. Pretending it didn’t faze you to see him out. You tried to keep your face straight as possible. The guy you were talking to didn’t realize how much you weren’t into having a conversation with him. Turning back to face him, you came up with a lame excuse to walk away and leave the same room Isaac was in.

You only had a few drinks but you needed to find one of your sisters and get out of there. You didn’t know how long it would be before you couldn’t keep up the façade that you didn’t care about seeing Isaac.

For holding onto something that's Never ever gonna come back I can't accept that it's lost

Isaac’s eyes were glued to you as you walked away from the guy you were talking too. The vein in his head throbbed when he saw the guy follow you out the room. He didn’t want to listen in on your conversation, but he could feel your emotions change after you saw him.

You went through the kitchen searching for a glimpse of one of your sisters. There were so many people around, it was hard to see anything. You pulled your phone out your back pocket and sent a text, hoping one of them would answer back quickly. It started getting to warm for you, so you decided to find a bathroom to splash some water on your face. Surprisingly, when you found the bathroom, it was empty and you walked right in.

You leaned against the sink with your head down. Isaac was not supposed to be here. He hates parties! And of course, your sisters were nowhere to be found. They were probably grinding on some poor fraternity guys. Okay, just take a deep breath. You looked up at yourself in the mirror. At least you looked cute. Maybe Isaac would see what he was missing.

After dabbing a little water on your face, you got the strength to walk back out. As soon as you opened the door you bumped into a tall frame.

“Sorry, I-” you said before you looked up. Isaac was looking back down at you, his hands wrapped around your arms from bumping into you.

“It’s fine,” Isaac replied.

This was the first time in months you had heard Isaac’s voice. Well, besides the few voicemails he had left you while you were still dating that you replayed on your phone.

You realized he was still holding on to you and you took a step back looking away from him. Isaac had been looking for you to see if you were alright, but now he felt incredibly nervous. He rubbed the back of his neck looking away from you as well.

“Um, you look great,” Isaac managed to get out his mouth.

“Thanks. I should go find my sisters,” you said trying to move past him.

“Wait,” Isaac blurted out. You turned around to face him waiting for him to speak, but nothing came out.

“What, Isaac,” you asked looking at him impatiently.

“I just... how have you been,” he asked.

You turned your head ever so slightly. Before you were hurting at seeing Isaac, but now you were getting annoyed. “You wanna know how I’ve been? Why? You didn’t care the last time we were together.”

“Y/N,” you flinched a little at the sound of your name leaving his mouth. “I’m sorry. I know we’re not together anymore, but-”

“But what,” you interrupted. “This is what you wanted.”

“I know it is, but I didn’t really want it.”

You looked at him confused. “So, you wanted to break up, but you didn’t really want to? Always the articulate one, aren’t you?”

Isaac sighed, closing his eyes briefly. He opened his eyes and looked down at you sincerely. “I am sorry, Y/N.”

“Me too,” you said sadly then walked past him.

I’m just a fool A fool for you I’m just a fool

You knocked three times before you heard shuffling behind the door. You knew Isaac well enough to know he was in his dorm. Most college students would be hanging out with their friends or back home for the weekend, but Isaac wasn’t most college students. You crossed your arms over your chest slightly nervous to be approaching Isaac. The party didn’t go so well, and you hadn’t been back here since the two of you broke up.

The lock on the door clicked and the door squeaked as Isaac opened it.

“Y/N,” he said surprised, his eyes wide. “What are you doing here?”

“Um, I wanted to talk,” you said. Your right arm hung down while your left hand rubbed your other forearm. This was more awkward than you envisioned in your head.

“I- I don’t think now is a good time,” Isaac said a little jumpy.

“Please, Isaac,” you asked softly. “I really need to say this, and I don’t know if I’ll have the courage to do this again.” It hurt that Isaac didn’t want to talk now. But it took all day to get the strength to come to his dorm. If he turned you away, you may never do it again.

“Alright,” Isaac said shyly. He did want to talk to you, but now may have not been the best time. It was a full moon. Before you, remembering how his father used to be reminded him of his humanity. It was his anchor. After the two of you became a couple, it became a mixture of you and his father. But after the breakup, full moons became hard again. He struggled to keep himself from shifting. There was the possibility of you being there could help him during the full moon, but there was also the possibility of you saying something he didn’t want to hear. You could be trying to get closure, so you could move on, and that was something Isaac didn’t want to hear. If you even remotely hinted at moving on, he may wolf out and hurt you, then he would never be able to forgive himself.

Isaac opened the door more and stepped to the side to let you in. For the most part, his dorm looked the same. Same navy and white sheets. His lacrosse gear hazily thrown on the floor near his closet. A small maroon Beacon Hills High School Cyclones flag hanging from the wall near his bed. The small trash can in his room was full of microwave meal containers and ripped pages from his notebook. You walk inside, not sure what to do. There was just his bed and the chair at his desk, but it didn’t feel right sitting.

Isaac closed his door and turned towards you.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Us,” you said nervously then paused for a moment. “I mean, I know there’s no us. But I’m still having trouble with what happened.”

“Okay?”

“I keep replaying the whole thing in my head. We were fine. I just wanted you to open up more.”

“I know, but it’s complicated. There are somethings I couldn’t... it was just better if you didn’t know about.”

“But why,” you asked shrugging. “You really that I wouldn’t understand?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what was it?”

“I wanted to tell you, but like I said, it was just better if you didn’t know.”

“That’s bullshit, Isaac,” you said crossing your arms over your chest.

“It’s not,” Isaac responded trying to defend himself.

“You didn’t care,” you spoke firmly like it was a fact.

“I did care,” Isaac almost shouted. “I still care.”

“You didn’t act like it,” you said hurt. “You just let me walk out that door. You didn’t try explaining. You didn’t try to fix it.”

“Because I couldn’t! It was better for us to be apart,” Isaac yelled. The warmth that was usually in his eyes was gone and you saw anger. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea to come here.

“But why, Isaac,” you yelled back. You didn’t intend to yell, but when you were getting yelled at and your emotions were going this crazy, you couldn’t help it. “We were good. At least I thought we were. Then I want to know about your past and suddenly you think we’re better apart?”

“Yes,” Isaac shouted back. He was getting madder every second. This wasn’t like him though and he knew that. It was the full moon. He would never yell at you. He loved you.

“Why, Isaac? Just tell me why,” you said. Your voice was rough and shaky, and your eyes began to water.

“Just leave it, Y/N,” Isaac said then he groaned turning away from you. He put his head down and cover the sides of his face with his hands.

“Isaac,” you asked starting to worry. “Isaac, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing- ughh,” he groaned again.

“Isaac, look at me.”

“No, I’m fine,” he said as he moved to get away from you.

“You’re scaring me,” you said. Isaac heard the worry in your voice, but he just needed you to leave and he would be better. “Please, just look at me.”

He heard you stepping closer to him. He knew how stubborn you were, so you leaving was out of the question. You were just worried about him.

“I’ll be fine. Just go... please,” he tried to say softly but you heard the pain he was trying to cover up.

Slowly you stepped closer. “You know I can’t do that,” you said softly. You reached out to Isaac, resting your hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. You tilted your head to the side and he reluctantly turned to face you as your hand guided him. His head was still low, but you lifted him up to see his face. His eyes were closed, and his jaw was clenched.

“Isaac,” you said in the softest voice Isaac had ever heard. “Open your eyes.”

His jaw quivered just the slightest as he shook his head.

“Please,” you said, your fingers rubbing ever so gently across his cheek.

Isaac slowly opened his eyes revealing a pair of golden yellow irises.

You stared at him for a moment before you made another command. “Now, show me your teeth.”

Isaac quirked his head to the side slightly. He saw certainty in your eyes. He swallowed then slowly opened his mouth showing you his sharp teeth.

You sighed then brought your other hand up to Isaac’s face.

“It’s a full moon,” you stated.

“You knew,” Isaac asked.

“No,” you replied shaking your head. “My best friend from back home is a werewolf,” you said with a small smile on your face.

Isaac just looked down at you quietly. His teeth retracted back to his normal ones and his eyes stopped glowing.

“Is this why you broke up with me?”

“Part of the reason.”

“What is the other part?”

Isaac didn’t say anything. He just kept looking down.

“Isaac, I don’t care that you’re a werewolf. You’re still the same guy underneath all that hair. Now, if you were a vampire I may have had a problem with that,” you said trying to lighten the situation.

“It’s more than that,” Isaac said finally speaking up. “I’m not just a werewolf. There’re hunters after me. My friends... my pack, they deal with a lot of supernatural problems back home. A lot of people die in Beacon Hills. I’ve lost people I’ve cared about and I didn’t want you to be one.”

You understood why Isaac didn’t open up now. Why he didn’t want you to visit Beacon Hills.

Your right hand moved back, pressing against Isaac’s neck. You stood on the tips of your toes and reached up. Your lips brushed against Isaac’s. God, you missed his lips.

Isaac relaxed against you and began to kiss you back. His hands rested on your waist.

The both of you reluctantly broke apart, catching your breaths. You wanted to stay close, so you rested your head against his shoulder.

“I miss you,” you said in a whisper.

Isaac just pulled you closer to you in response. His grip around your waist tightened.

“I understand why you broke up with me,” you spoke in a low tone. “But I wish you would have given me the benefit of the doubt.” You paused before you said the next part, almost too nervous to say it. Worried he would pull away, or it would be too soon. “I... I love you, Isaac. I don’t care if you get a little extra hairy when the moon is full, or that hunters are after you. I want to be with you.”

Isaac unwrapped one of his hands from around your waist and lifted your head up by your chin. “I love you, too,” he said in serious tone. Isaac said I love you like it was fact that you could look up in the Encyclopedia. If you searched Isaac Lahey on Google, it would say born September 22nd, 1994, six foot two inches, gorgeous blue eyes, a jaw line that could cut diamonds, and in love with Y/N Y/L/N.

If it were possible, your heart would have burst right there on the spot. A grin grew on your face that would make the Cheshire cat proud. Isaac began to smile back at you, but you reached up and kissed him again before it could grow to its full potential.

You pulled away, looking up into those blue eyes that you adored. “So, does this mean we’re back together?”

Isaac let out a chuckle, “Only if you’ll have me.”

“Of course, I’ll have you, you fool,” you shouted then wrapped your arms around his neck and jumped up to hug him. Isaac held you up, so you were on eye level as your feet dangled below you.

Isaac wasn’t exactly sure how this was going to work. He knew he would always worry about you. Now you were going to expect him to take you home. To meet his version of a family. To meet his pack. He was going to have to tell you about Allison and how his father died. Hunters may use you to get to him, so he would have to teach you how to protect yourself. Maybe he would get Argent to help. But if it all that meant he got to be with you, he would do it.

#Likes are cool but comments keep me going at night #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fan fiction #teen wolf imagine

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aviationfiction · 6 years

Text

XXXI

Autumn Dupont

“Okay, thank you so much. I’m so pleased that our services were suited to your taste. It’s a pleasure to have you and we’ll see you soon.” Like a young child, who found a brand new shiny toy, I carelessly twisted, turned, and halfway glided to and from Isaac’s desk in his ridiculously comfortable ergonomic leather executive chair. It’s high back and soft head rest had been my source of comfort more than half of the day as he busily moved in and out of meetings throughout the morning. He summoned me from my position at the service desk with a polite plea for help that I hadn’t been expecting and yet couldn’t turn down. The rare occurrence of him properly and humbly asking me for something took me for a loop; hell, Rachel too. His mood change may possibly be attributed to he and Lauren’s budding embryo or maybe he’s finally respecting the work ethic that I’ve brought forth since he threw me a bone by giving me this job. Either way, I have no complains because I’ve become exhausted with the back and forth tension between he and I. Despite our lack of proper conversations to get to the root of his issues with me, I don’t see why he and I shouldn’t find a way to bring about peace within our relationship as siblings. I’ve already lost one brother and though Isaac may not realize it, he is and has always been dear to my heart. No matter what, I’ll have his back and if necessary, will go to war for him. We’ve always been taught to protect one another in this world and that’s a rule that I haven’t and will never give up on.

“Get out.” The bass in Isaac’s tone startled me as I placed the receiver to his desk phone back on it’s base. Okay maybe I’m jumping the gun about the shift in his personality.

“I just finalized an account. I did all seven and I reorganized the files in that cabinet over there. No offense, but whoever organized them before did a shitty job. Oh, and stop being rude.” I never thought I’d be able to have an actual conversation with a billionaire, but today I spoke with two. Usually, it’s a personal assistant or a chosen representative who calls in to request whatever services they prefer, so it was quite a shock for me to have Amancio Ortega himself speaking with me about servicing for his forty five million dollar Bombardier designed jet. Hell, it was quite a shock that the company is even on his radar, but he proved me wrong with his unpresuming compliments about Isaac’s charm and ambition. They happened to have met at a business conference and have been cordial with one another ever since. While it took every bit of might I had not to burst into a fangirl moment with my love for Zara, my brother could coolly mingle amongst the world’s wealthiest men and not break a single sweat. Impressive. They second one? Jami Gertz, wife of Antony Ressler. He’s the co-founder of a forty billion dollar private equity firm. Though she may not technically count because his assets aren’t hers, in my opinion, she does. She’s quite pleasant as well. She complimented the tone of my voice and called it soothing.

“I’m not being rude. Get out. Oh and I mean of the building by the way, not just my office.” His chuckle was light and he carelessly tossed a file on the desk that I’d just neatened up an hour ago. He will have made it a mess by the time he leaves here this evening. “Glen’s waiting for you outside.”

“For what? I’m supposed to get off at three today.” Glen and I had already spoken about it when he dropped me off to work this morning. If he is outside, he must have misheard what I said.

“You’re getting off now. Go head and go. You were getting ready to go on lunch anyway, right? Take lunch and keep going.” The sly expression on his face unnerved me as I lifted myself up and out of his chair. With my phone in my hand, I stepped around the desk and glared at him as he coolly took the position I was once in. I planned to be in here with my feet disrespectfully resting on his desk while I occupied the phone for the rest of the afternoon.

“What’s going on?” Because something has to be happening.

“I’m not sure why you wanted to become a doctor. You should have had goals to become a detective or a lawyer. All you do is ask questions. If I went out there and told anyone else what I just told you, they would have zipped out of here without giving me a chance to have a second thought and here you are questioning me about why I’m telling you to take the rest of the afternoon off. What a nerd.”

“Shut up. I’m going.” After retrieving my jacket from his office closet, I bid him a playful middle finger as a departing announcement and closed the door behind myself on my way out. My trek down the hallway wasn’t a long one.

“You’re off?” Rachel threw an arm around my neck to draw me in for a hug and I nodded in the midst of it. We were supposed to grab lunch and get off together. Isaac ruined our little lazy girl’s afternoon.

“Yeah. Boss man’s kicking me out.”

“Good. I still can’t believe you came in on the day before your birthday.”

“What else am I supposed to be doing? It’s the day before, not the day of.”

“Anything but being here. Go and prepare for it. Go get pampered. Shit, go to the spa or something. You work hard enough. Get out of here and enjoy yourself. I’ll call you in the morning and use my beautiful vocals to sing you an unforgettable birthday song. Okay?”

“Beautiful vocals? Oh, dear. You don’t really believe that, but I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“That is unless you’re having some incredible birthday morning sex. If so, don’t answer me. I won’t be mad at all.” The gasp that spilled past my lips was loud enough to draw laughter out of the both of us and I quickly nudged her with my elbow. I absolutely wouldn’t mind it. Actually, I’m hoping to be woken up just like that. I can barely contain the faint throbbing between my thighs at just the thought of it. I’m not sure if I should be ashamed of how much I anticipate being unclothed with my limbs tightly wrapped around every aspect of him. It worsens when I have alcohol in my system. It’s everything about his aura; it not only draws me in but it entices my body unlike any other. It’s the way he steadily peels my layers away, physically and mentally, and focuses on pleasuring me until I am on the cusp of life and death. It’s the way he fills me. My God.

“Cut it out. There won’t be any of that.” My modesty instantly came to my defense.

“Yeah, okay. The way he looks at you says it all.” Keeping my relationship out of the workplace has always been my intention ever since we began seeing one another. I’ve been around here and Meridian long enough to know how rumors swiftly spread and the truth is swept under the rug and hidden for the sake of keeping the conversations sensationalized. Whether it’s the side relationships with married men, the sugar daddy situations amongst the younger women, or the plotting on whichever wealthy male walks through the doors of both companies, I’ve heard it all. When I’m around, I can’t go a day without hearing whispers about my man or receiving sly questions about what he’s like so they can figure out exactly what type of pass to make at him. I’ve already told him he’s a hot commodity around this place and though he couldn’t care less, in some capacity I cannot help but to do so. There’s this part of me that doesn’t want yet another aspect of my love life being a source of entertainment for whoever is childishly concerned with it, and there is also this part of me that wants to set the record straight so that I no longer have to hear about women ready and willing to drop their panties for the man I’m in love with. It’s a tough position to be in. If it were up to him, we’d breeze through here hand in hand, confidently, with no worries about who knows.

“Call me the morning.” I retrieved my bag from the bottom drawer behind the desk and placed a peck on her cheek.

“Will do. Have fun today.”

Have fun? My feet moved as swiftly as my thoughts while I pondered on what I could possibly be having fun doing. As far as I know, I have no plans today. Tomorrow? Most likely a birthday lunch with my mother and dinner with Dante since he insisted. If it were up to me, we’d order takeout at his place and lay around with food bellies while watching chick flicks.

“Marvin?” Dante’s driver and his wide grin warmed me. Certainly the hundred roses being cradled in the nape of his arm helped.

“From the boss.” I didn’t hesitate to grab the beautiful display out of his grasp and give them a smell like any other admirer would have done. This is the third time this week I’ve gotten flowers from him and yet it still feels like the first time. Goosebumps, butterflies, chills, you name it.

“He sent me here with specific instructions for you. I placed the envelope in the backseat. We’re going to have a nice day together.”

“Oh really? Will the boss be joining me?” While helping me into the backseat of the blackened SUV, he shook his head with a smirk. “No?”

“He says that he’ll see you later on.” Once the flowers were carefully resting along side me, the envelop was my focus. The contents inside were his American Express Centurion Card, hundred dollar bills that I’d actually have to take my time counting, and a little note that said nothing more than he loved me. Any other woman would have been squealing in this backseat and bursting with excitement at the opportunity to spend money that isn’t theirs and yet I couldn’t mask the indifference and reluctance looming within my mind. I can admit that though I try my hardest to not compare my life with Andreas to the one I now share with Dante, I do have a tendency to worry about there being parallels that align. The days of swiping his credit card to cure the boredom were plentiful. The shopping also served as a temporary pain killer for the hole in my heart that he continued to worsen. Imagine standing in a closet full of clothes that mostly went unworn because you had nowhere to wear them to until your brother or best friend happened to come to town. How foolish would I have looked to waste couture pieces from Chanel and the fabulous intricacies of Dior in an arena watching the Miami Heat battle their latest opponent on the court? I’m not interested in being in that kept space once again because it comes with preconceived notions about my character and it puts me amongst an exclusive circle of women who are nothing more than the image behind the large shadow of their men. Though I adore Dante’s image, my everyday struggle is to create my own identity since I failed to do so during the time when it truly should have been happening. I don’t want any of this if it puts me back in that space again. I just want him and in no capacity does he have to come out of his pocket to give me that.

“You promised me.” He answered after two rings and didn’t even bother giving me a standard greeting. He didn’t start with an endearing one either. Instead, he chose to began with those three words because he already knew what my call would be about. He’s learned so much about my complexities that he tends to jump ahead of them these days.

“What?”

“You promised me.” He repeated himself and the sigh that followed was one of exhaustion. I couldn’t tell if I was the source behind it or if his early afternoon at work isn’t flowing as well as he’d like it to.

“You haven’t even let me tell you why I called. You haven’t even said hi.”

“You promised me before we left L.A. that I had the freedom to do whatever I pleased when planning your birthday celebrations and that you would not shut me down about it. Once again, I made you repeat that promise a week ago and you agreed with me. Remember?” How could I forget? I was half naked, not feeling so great, and his hands were soothing my body while I rested in his bed. A person would have agreed to anything during a massage like that. I wasn’t of sound, mind, or body. I was blissfully drunk off of him, per usual these days.

“Yes, I remember. I just…is this my gift? If this is my gift then, okay.”

“No. That’s not your gift.” Of course it isn’t. I asked a dumb question to lighten the mood and the exact opposite happened as silence followed his answer.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you.” And I do. I’ve trusted him since I met him, though my fears often resisted it. It’s the manner in which he handled our growing bond and my fragile heart that made me do so. I learned that his intentions were pure very early on.

“And you do believe and feel that I love and am in love with you, right?”

“Yes, Dante.”

“Then why are you about to argue with me about this? I should be able to give you whatever I want, if you genuinely believe both of those things. It’s what I want to do for you. I never protest what you want to do for me.”

“Fine. Fine. I’m going to go then.” There’s nothing more than needs to be said and if I go any further in what may come off as a complaint, I’d officially be treading into a territory of insulting him though it wouldn’t be my intention. Although the wounds are still healing, I don’t want to be the person who gives but has an issue with receiving love anymore. That mentality held me captive for two years and if I’m ever going to experience the freedom and liberation with breaking the chains of the past, I have to allow some spontaneity and risks to be taken.

“I have a meeting that I’m walking to as we speak. I’ll see you later on, okay? Enjoy yourself. Get whatever you want.”

“Wait. Wait. Before you go, what’s my budget?” His snicker was loud but lacked anything snide. He was genuinely amused.

“Talk to you later baby.” I didn’t get a chance to say another word. A double beep filled my ear and my connection with him was no more. Embarrassment flushed through me as Marvin looked on through the rearview mirror as I picked up my jaw and flushed out the shock in him hanging up on me.

“The boss gave me instructions to specifically take you to Saks Fifth Avenue and then to Bergdof Goodman. From there, any other store is of your choosing. Okay?”

“Okay.” At this point, who am I to argue?

“One more thing from the boss.” Marvin reached over into the passenger seat and revealed a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts and passed it back to me. Of course, he didn’t forget to include the frozen Mocha that I enjoy so much. I couldn’t be less than impressed with the choices: two original glazed, one glazed sour cream, and one cinnamon twist. It’s exactly the way I order them whenever I feel like indulging on the oh so good treat that goes straight to my thighs. God, I love him.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

I wasted no time and immediately took a bite out of a doughnut. My eyes then panned towards to window to admire the scenery as we took the journey from Teterboro to New York City. Though I’ve been to a decent number of places in the world, I’ll never tire of the tri-state area. It’s vibrancy stimulates me and has yet to lose it’s hopefulness. I may be biased, there’s nothing like a new beginning here. I know that now more than ever. There was a time when I’d criticize the tourists who clogged the major areas of the city with their cameras and sightseeing or the newcomers who couldn’t figure out how to get from point A to B without asking a billion different questions and still getting lost in the process. Now? I get it. I understand why Shane marveled in the lights. With him, I understood why it was our playground and without him I understand why he introduced me to what would become a focal point of his world. It was his saving grace and now, it acts as mine.

“More champagne Autumn?” I’d only sipped the glass of Dom Pèrignon the eager woman placed in my hand upon my arrival and yet here she was offering to refill the glass.

Money talks. I’ve always known that, but it’s far more noticeable when you’re the centerpiece of it and there are hankering individuals catering to every step they most likely would have discriminated against had I not walked beyond the department store’s doors with the black card of one of the most prominent business men in New York City. Instead of following me around this store and pointing out items with prices tags containing four and five digits, they would have wondered why would I ever subject myself to stepping into such a store and ran my card more than twice to make sure I wasn’t committing one of those infamous credit card scams that have become the popular thing to do within the other boroughs. Instead, they were awaiting my arrival. A brunet by the name of April introduced herself as a consultant who works with Stacey in picking up pieces for Dante when he isn’t available. Her elation in catering to my every fashion need certainly ousted mine. Some would call her an enthusiast but her movements were like that of a vulture.

“No thanks. I’m okay.”

“What do you think of this?” Though the intricacies were quite interesting, I couldn’t connect with the fringe pealing out from the bodice and sleeves of the turquoise leather jacket. It’s color would have been ridiculously loud amongst the fall wear that is now filling the streets. I may be a risk taker and occasional rule breaker, but going that bright is a fashion felony.

“How much is that?” My curiosity arose.

“With tax? It’s about four thousand fifty dollars.” That number would have meant absolutely nothing to me had it been Andreas’ card in my wallet. In that situation, the cost of a “painkiller” had no limitations. She could have told me the price was a million dollars and I probably would have purchased it with the intent to spark an argument since we’d gotten to a point where arguments were the only time we’d speak to one another. Now? Lord knows I’m hesitant about blowing through any of this man’s money for trivial desires. I don’t have to force him to speak with me. I don’t need any painkillers. I’m assured in having him. I suppose that’s what should make this more comforting. Maybe that’s his point.

“I do like fringe, but not that particularly. It’s too loud.”

“There are quite a number of special order pieces that I have in the back for you. Mr. St. James’ assistant called about this a month ago so we were able to call up a couple of houses to get some pieces that we believed were birthday and everyday wear friendly. There’s a fringe number from Versace that’s to die for. It’s from this year’s Spring collection.” If it’s the golden metal mini dress and it’s glorious plunging neckline, I might be on board. I seen it months ago and loved it. Actually, I enjoyed the entire collection as I tend to do with most of what Donatella serves. Though she’s had more misses than her brother, she’s upheld the brand quite well over the years and I haven’t hesitated to splurge on pieces that have caught my eye. The jumpsuit I wore to Dante’s opening in L.A. is still one of my all time favorites.

“A month ago?”

“Yes. Stacey. I’m sure you know her. She stated that this was for the love of his life, so we needed to make sure you’re well taken care of.” Stacey served the dramatics while threatening these people. I’d expect no less from the woman who claims and honestly shows that she is the dominant side of Dante’s brain. Though she believes I’m beginning to edge her out in that department because I have a connection to him unlike anyone else, the credit is still due to her.

“Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Oh no, thank you for coming in. You’re already stunning, so we’re just going to make sure we do everything within our power to further compliment that.”

Had Heather not blown me off with previous plans that she hadn’t realized she made around the time of my birthday, she would have been here with me and squealing at the sight of every piece I tried on like a proud mom. Instead, I’m left to make all of the choices by myself and it’s been quite of a challenge between both Saks and Bergdof Goodman. I’d already decided the Versace dress was a go for tomorrow night before I could even get it’s heaviness over my head. The sight of it alone left my eyes bulging out of my head and my skin trickling with chills. Everything else is simply pieces to fill up what may be more than half of my boyfriend’s closet once it’s all inside of his apartment. He’ll regret ever offering me the space soon enough. The clothing aside, my favorite part of my shopping activity for the afternoon was choosing the accessories. My enthusiasm heightened as I paired bangles with rings, necklaces with earrings, and sunglasses with bags and shoes. For over an hour, my feet were donned with Jimmy Choo, Giuseppe Zanotti, Christian Louboutin, Gianvitto Rossi, Miu Miu, Saint Laurent, and Sergio Rossi. Then there were the Balanciaga sneakers that I couldn’t pass on. Though I’d contemplated back and forth on it, wondering if I should feed into my fantasy, I couldn’t help myself. After trips back and forth to fill the trunk of the SUV with bags, I jogged back in the store for the famous blue smooth satin and crystal encrusted Manolo Blahnik stiletto pumps worn by Carrie Bradshaw during her court house wedding with John James Preston, better known as Mr. Big. I’d always said that my something blue would be my shoes whenever I got married and they were. With Andreas, I wore a decent pair from Jimmy Choo, but I’d like a do over. If God is on my side, I’ll have a do over and it’ll be with the one who fills my days with endless joy and has uplifted me since our first conversation.

“Marvin, can we go to Zara?” The higher end brands are great, but Zara has been and probably will always be my favorite place to shop for simplistic and interchangeable pieces. I like to mix things up and toy around with textures and patterns. Often times, I’ll have on a really affordable top and bottom, with expensive shoes and bags. Style is never about the price tag. Confidence is first and then there’s the skill in being able to take anything and make it look like it cost me a million bucks.

“We can go wherever you like Autumn.”

What do you want for dinner?

Before returning to his apartment, I figured I’d stop by a grocery store and pick up a couple of things to make dinner with tonight. His tone during our brief phone conversation had a bit of exhaustion mixed in with the frustration, so if I make something, he’ll be able to eat and get some much needed rest.

You don’t have to cook. I can grab dinner on the way in or you can. Whichever way is best for you.

While I’m thinking about his filling his stomach, he’s thinking about inconveniencing me. This man never fails to amuse me. Any other man would have quickly listed off a couple of things to put me to work in his kitchen.

That’s not what I asked Mr. St. James.

Maybe I’ll make pasta. That’ll get me in and out of the kitchen in less than an hour.

Whatever you choose to make is fine with me, baby.

And here I thought women were the most indecisive people when it comes to eating.

Pasta?

I think I’ll do penne with a spicy arrabbiata sauce and grilled chicken on the side. Simple, yet great in taste.

Perfect. I love you.

His words of endearment were a sweet way of blowing me off and I’ll accept that, for now.

I love you too.

I love him so much.

“Okay, so Zara and then somewhere for groceries Marvin.”

“Sure thing.”

I’d blown off my growing exhaustion in Bergdof Goodman but it got the best of me on the journey to Zara and during my time in the store. I walked in with the hope of picking up a couple of items and left with two shirts. My final stop at one of New York City’s crappy grocery stores took longer than I wanted it to, but I couldn’t leave without enough to at least halfway fill up his refrigerator and cabinets for myself more than anything. He couldn’t care less about the tumbleweeds blowing through them.

“Marvin, you are a lifesaver and the most generous man ever. If there’s anything that I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” Not only had he been my driver the entire day, but he even went out of his way to help me bring the absolutely absurd number of bags upstairs in three trips. Three damn trips.

“Just keep making him happy. The man turns into a disco ball whenever he speaks of you and I’ve never heard him speak of anyone like that. That’s how I know you’re special and he deserves that. He’s such an upstanding man and he always compliments the union between my wife and I. I told him soon enough, he too will be blessed with a life partner, and I believe that’s you. So, take care of him, because I know that he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure you’re taken care of. Even when he called and gave me all of the directions for you, he told me, Marvin, make sure you take care of my lady.” The dramatics bubbling within me urged me to fall to the floor and squeal in a giddy school girl manner, but my pride stepped into the forefront and only allowed me to genuinely smile at his kind words with a nod of assurance that I’d do as he requested.

“I will. You don’t ever have to worry about that.”

“That’s all I want to hear. If I don’t see you tomorrow, you have a happy birthday okay? Enjoy yourself.” Instantly, I opened my arms for a hug and embraced the warm and knowledgeable older man. A handshake is for people you can’t quite figure out. Marvin’s a teddy bear in human form.

“Thank you so much. I will. Thank you again for all of your help today. I’m appreciative.”

“You’re very welcome. See you soon.”

“Yes. See you soon.”

I was left to a empty penthouse and a tedious task of finding the proper placement for everything I acquired during my gifted splurging day. Though I had my doubts about a potential argument that may have come from me taking up a ton of space in his closet, I still made sure to avoid the possibility by placing a portion of it in his closet and the rest of it in the guest room closet since no one other than myself uses it whenever I’m around. Putting away the groceries was easier and so was whipping up the pasta and grilled chicken I planned to make. I attempted to wait for him for at least two hours and gave up once my head began to ache with the looming hunger within my body. I lazily enjoyed the quick meal from the couch with a glass of red wine and repeat episodes of the trashy yet entertaining Black Ink Crew. The couch became my little haven as I awaited the man of the house. Though I could have, I had no plans on going to bed without him.

“I’m mad you.”

“Happy Birthday to you.” Heather’s cheery voice met my ear as soon as I answered her call. I didn’t give my phone a minute to ring before the I slid my finger across the illuminating green answer signal on the screen and voiced what I’d been wanting to say to her all day.

“I’m mad.”

“Happy Birthday to you.” She sang with no regard for my playful feelings about her absence.

“You do this singing shit every year. I’m not impressed. I’m mad.” I finished the last bit of wine left in what was my second glass and listened to her chipper giggle.

“Happy Birthday dear bestie.”

“Shut up. I’m mad.”

“Happy Birthday to you.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever. Thank you and all of that, but I’m mad. You’re supposed to be here.” She never misses my birthday. We don’t do that. It’s been our tradition since we were kids and this would be the second time we’re breaking it. The first was my doing. I wasn’t doing quite well two years ago and I couldn’t bare to celebrate anything for anyone. Now, it’s her turn. She’s ditching me for work and her push toy looking husband.

“Don’t be upset with me. I may not be with you tomorrow, but you know we’re going to link up and celebrate regardless. It just won’t be on the day. I’ll make it up to you with a great gift and the best seats in the house to any Broadway show of your choice.”

“Harry Potter and The Cursed Child, please and thank you. It’ll be in New York next year.” I know the tickets are going to be ridiculous in price and now I have an excuse to not have to pay for them, though I wouldn’t have mind at all. Also, it’s torture for Heather, because she hates Harry Potter.

“I forgot you love that wizard shit. It’s so damn boring. Why couldn’t they have put Twilight on Broadway?”

“Because glimmering and animal blood sucking vampires is the silliest shit ever. No wonder you like it so much. Silly ho.” Our laughter soon followed my comment on her love of the mostly senseless Stephanie Myers series and though I couldn’t see her, I know she stuck up her middle finger at me.

“Whatever bitch. What are you doing?”

“Laying on the couch watching TV. I just finished a great glass of wine. You?”

“Eating chocolate ice cream with sprinkles and almonds. I’m indulging at this time of night and I’ll pay for it in the morning, but who cares. Are you at your parents house or home?” My expression contorted into one of confusion at her question.

“Did you forget that I live with my parents?”

“Please. You live with your man. That’s home. You sleep next to him more than you sleep in their house these days, so home is wherever he is.” I had the urge to slickly shut down her commentary but her accuracy swept in and silenced me. Her statement contains a decent amount of truth. Whether we’re in New York or somewhere else in the world, I do spend more of my nights laying next to him rather than being home alone in my bed. I believe that plays a part in why my mother is so hesitant about me moving out. She’s already feeling the affects of my absence even with me still residing there. I’ve never taken the time to consider any of this until now and ultimately, it feels completely normal. The normalcy is why I’m waiting up for him right now. Well, it’s that and my raging hormones that thoughts of him and the wine triggered. I’m damn near antsy in anticipation of us going to bed together. I don’t have any plans for sleep tonight.

“Shut up.” It’s the only response I could muster up.

“Exactly. You got quiet because you know it’s the truth. Is he home?”

“No. I think he’s working late so I’m waiting for him. He’ll probably be in within a couple of minutes or so.”

“What are your plans for tomorrow?”

“I have to get my hair and nails done in the morning. That’s a must. After that, probably lunch with my mother and whatever Mr. St. James has planned for the evening. I told him I only wanted to go to dinner, so that may be what we’re doing. He hasn’t told me anything else other than we’re going out tomorrow night.” I’d be fine with eating at Baraya, honestly. Of course he’d never allow that to happen, but it’s just a of sign of how simple I wouldn’t mind the night being. Us spending it together is special enough.

“That sounds like a nice time. Dinner, some good birthday loving, and I’m sure a nice gift. What did you ask for?”

“Nothing.”

“Of course. I don’t even know why I asked.” I never ask for anything for my birthday. Christmas? I throw hints out there for sure. I typically leave the gift creativity up to whoever intends to get me one. I’m appreciative of anything. It could be a pack of socks and I’d love it. Just make sure they’re colorful and ridiculous looking.

“There is one thing that I really wanted. It’s crazy because I spoke about it in L.A. Remember when we were on the phone? I went to the website and the glasses were gone.”

“You talking about those Chanel sunglasses? The ones that were like thirty five hundred?” I found this incredible website that sells all things vintage and I’m typically a junkie for a throwback designer piece. A part of me wished I was born in the seventies, so I could have lived through the nineties as an adult and really experienced the good times and most of all, the fashion. Of course, Lil’ Kim was and still is one of my fashion icons and I’m always trying to find sunglasses similar to the ones she wore in her prime. I found a couple of pairs of early nineties Chanel sunglasses on the website and I instantly wanted an extremely rare white pair with the “Chanel Paris” logo printed on both sides. I loved the black ones as well but the six thousand five hundred dollar price tag on a pair of glasses is going overboard and the pearl ones that I could have cried over were even worse with their damn near ten thousand dollar price tag. Sadly for me, I won’t be getting any of them because they were purchased as of a couple of days ago. I wanted to throw my iPad Pro when I saw those “sold” signs. I’m slightly bitter. On the brighter side, there’s a Versace pair that I have my eye on.

“Yes. I’m so pissed. I had every intention to lay on a beach somewhere and post twenty selfies in those. I’m inconsistent with Instagram but I would have been consistent as fuck with those on.”

“You’ll find them again. I’m sure those weren’t the only pair in the world.”

“I hope so.” My eyes panned towards the television and I smirked at the traditional midnight birthday phone call. She has yet to forget to do it. I anticipate it every year and it’s just as special as it always has been. I hope we’re calling one another for our hundredth birthdays.

“I love you. You’re still the first person to tell me happy birthday, year after year.”

“And I better always be the first. I don’t care who tries to call you before me, don’t answer. If Dante had of been there, you should have clogged your ears until I called. It’s a ritual, like some chakra shit. Don’t shift our thing.”

“Our thing?” My laughter filled the room as her superstitions poured out. She’s always had them.

“Yes, our thing.”

“Okay. I won’t shift our thing.”

“Good. I have to get up super early, so I’ll call you tomorrow around noon and a couple of times after that. Enjoy all of your birthday festivities. I have a feeling that it’s going to be a great day.”

“I will. I’ll miss you.”

“You’ll see me in a couple of days. Don’t be a brat. I love you, okay?”

“I love you too. Tell your hubby I said hello.”

“Will do. You tell your hubby I said the same.”

“My boyfriend, you mean.”

“I meant what I said. Goodnight, Tum Tum.”

“Tum Tum?”

“Yeah. Autumn. So I just took the t, u, and m. Tum Tum.”

“Don’t ever call me a fucking antacid again.” It took a couple of seconds, but my laughter meshed with hers as I shook my head. Her random nicknames have been and will always be annoying. It’s payback for me calling her Skipper during our sophomore year of college. After one year in L.A. , she developed a weird valley girl accent and has yet to rid herself of it. Skipper’s probably the whitest name I could have thought of at the time.

“Talk to you later.”

“Yep. Later.”

As our call ended, I turned off the television and made sure to clean up after myself before heading to lay in the bed. His ridiculously sized plasma television watched me as I stared up at the ceiling for a while and eventually I turned it off and allowed my body to do what it had been calling for. I couldn’t predict when he’d be home and I had no intention to bother or interrupt whatever he has going on. He’d come in whenever he was done and I’d have to accept that, though my once high anticipation transitioned into disappointment.

My slumber was unexpectedly a short lived nap. Around two thirty in the morning, I could hear him trying but terribly failing to maneuver around his home without waking me. He came in and out of the bedroom twice and found whatever he was looking for without turning on the light. While waiting for him to finally join me in bed, I made sure to move out of his spot and properly place his pillows the way they usually are but he didn’t show up. My curiosity led me to finding him in the kitchen.

“Did I wake you?” I didn’t expect him to want to eat so late, so I put his portion of the food in the refrigerator. I was proven wrong at the sight of a now almost empty plate sitting in front of him. Off to the side was a stack of folders that are probably responsible for the scowl that he’s trying to hide from me.

“Sort of, but it’s not completely your fault. I was in and out of sleep anyway. Are you okay?” He gulped down a large swig of the lemon-line Gatorade I bought for him while grocery shopping. With a nod as an answer, he used his hand to summon me closer to his body. When I was within arms length, he pressed his lips into my own and endearingly brushed his large palm over my shoulder.

“I apologize for being late. I had two long and extensive meetings today and then I had a very important meeting this evening that ran over much longer than I expected.” I wasn’t awaiting an explanation. I’ve damn near developed a don’t ask what you don’t want to know mentality when it came to men or should I say one particular man. Though your gut is telling you everything that you need to know, the state of denial is a temporary comfort zone I did my best to bask in for the sake of my sanity and conscience when going to sleep at night. I can’t leave out his belief that he didn’t have to explain himself in the first place. I was to stay in my place and be grateful for the bills being paid and all of the luxuries I have. Funny enough, he didn’t tell me that part of it. It was advice from a fellow NBA wag. With Dante, I don’t want him to feel like he has to always explain himself to me, because I’ll trust him with hopes that he’ll never give me a reason not to. I give credence to his loyalty.

“No need to apologize. It’s okay.” My teeth lightly ran over the skin of my bottom lip as I gazed over his frame. It was something about the after effects of the wine and the manner in which his tie was loosely hanging around his neck that enticed me with the thought of him tying my hands behind my head with it and having his way with me.

“Did you enjoy yourself today?”

“I did. I split all of what I bought between your closet and the guest room so that I wouldn’t take up so much space.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I think I left enough space for you to fit plenty in there.”

“You did, but I still didn’t want to take over. Thank you for today though. You continue to spoil me despite my resistance and it’s always special.” It was my turn to kiss him. He deserved it and so much more.

“Anything for you.”

“So where are we having dinner?”

“It’s a surprise. You already know I’m not revealing anything.” My eyes rolled before he could complete his response and he chuckled while his towering frame stood up and headed towards the sink. “And you should be heading back to bed. You said you’re getting your hair done early, right?”

“Yes.”

“So go and get some rest.”

“Says the man who is struggling to keep his eyes open.”

“Oh, I’m right behind you. I’m fucking exhausted.” Right behind me? Sadly, that part of it childishly took my mind to the gutter and I nearly kicked myself for currently having the mentality of a horny dog. Would I be selfish if I asked him to muster up just a bit of energy for a quickie? “I’ll meet you in the room.”

“Okay.”

I’d been curled up on my side of the bed for about forty five minutes while awaiting him to finish his shower and whatever else he was doing in the bathroom. The alluring scent of his body wash filled the room and worsened my yearning for him. Though I can’t quite figure out all of the ingredients, the hints of sage, tonka bean, mango, and sandalwood are there and mesh beautifully.

“You smell so good. Is that the Ralph Lauren shower gel?” His navigation around the darkroom was seamless.

“Yes, the one you bought me.” I’d forgotten about that. Typically, when I resupply my own hygienic products, I do the same for his, so it makes sense that it was me.

“It’s sexy. The scent and you.” A light chuckle coolly flowed from his lips and I felt the bed finally dip, signifying his presence. He halted my body with a grip to my thigh so I’d stop moving further to the left of the bed and drew me to the usual place he likes me in, the middle, within a comfortable reach for his arm to rest around my waist. His warmth irradiated my soul and a sense of peace immediately washed over me. Ambien has never aided me like this. No potent pain killer has the capability to ease my mind and body night after night like he effortlessly does.

“You’re the sexy one.” While glancing over at him, my eyes rolled at the sight of his playful smirk and I physically did my best to brush him off. He always turns my compliments for him into ones for me. His modesty never takes a vacation, even just for a minute or two.

“We’re talking about you.”

“And I’m talking about you.”

“Well, thank you.” My lips meshed into his bottom lip and I purposefully ran my tongue over it in hopes that he’d get even a fraction of a hint of where my mind had been for hours. The sight of him immediately hovering over me and peeling away the satin nightgown I slipped into for comfort not long after I came home nearly filled my hazy eyes with tears. I’ll never know how he just knows or how we’ve become so synced to one another since day one, but I have to believe that all of my suffering had a purpose behind it. Something greater was coming and I needed to make room for it. I’m still doing so, with openness for endless possibilities and enough caution for my insecurities. In my willingness to try, I’m being rewarded in ways that I never seen coming.

In the number of mistakes, selfish decisions, and pipe dreaming I’ve had, there was still a plan for me all along.

While serenely glancing over the New York City skyline, I did so from behind the curtain so that I would refrain from awaking Dante with the luminous rays of sunlight peaking from behind the clouds and faintly cascading a morning light to awaken the soon to be busy streets. A year of my life has gone by. On my twenty sixth birthday, I bundled up well enough to be protected from the early morning autumn breeze and took a run that was longer than any other I’ve taken thus far. I reflected on the struggles of the prior year and the ones that were still lingering behind and tormenting every thought of progress. The “irreconcilable differences” choice marked in black ink on the divorce papers that sat in the top draw of my nightstand served as a trigger for thoughts of every reason why it was the absolute truth of our fate. I ran for every fight and tear I shed, for the depression I ignored and denied, for the loss of my brother and his love, and for the moment I collapsed onto the floor of my parents home with a dangerous sense of relief that my soul would finally leave the flesh and I’d no longer have to deal with my earthly troubles. I ran for my life and a renewed sense of ambition. Despite every pessimistic thought I mustered up when thinking about the future, a small flame burned within me for a year of progression, if not for myself then for Shane. If he were here right now, I believe he’d be proud of me.

“Happy Birthday beautiful.” The mesh of grogginess and the perfect rasp ignited a round of chills over my caramel skin and I drew the curtain back just a bit to allow the sunlight to reveal his striking appearance. I didn’t hear him move and yet there he was, resting against the blackened headboard, with his eyes penetrating my frame.

“Thank you my love.” The depth of his eyes never hinders on piercing my essence. Everything he wants to say to me often lies within them. I don’t believe I’ve ever had anyone look at me in the way that he does. It wrecks my nerves and yet covers me with a comfort in knowing that I am loved and shielded. There’s something about his eyes; those eyes. When I opened my tear stained set and stared into his during our first encounter, I’ll never forget what I felt and how I carried it with me from then on out. Are we supposed to feel fate? If it’s possible, was that it?

“Who usually tells you happy birthday first?”

“Heather. She always calls me at midnight or purposefully calls me five minutes before midnight so that no one can beat her. It’s our tradition. After her? Shane would be the first one to tell me in person. When we were kids he used to wake me up by jumping on the bed and startling the shit out of me. During out teen years, he’d stick a candle in a stack of buttermilk pancakes and bring it to me. The man could make some pancakes. He gave my mother some competition in that area. Her skill of being able to literally make them from scratch is the only reason why she edged him out in the end. He was an Aunt Jermima expert.” I could smell his pancakes in my sleep. Not only would he cook the batter in butter, but then he’d turn around and put extra butter on top to take it to a fattening and even tastier level. We’d share the stack while laying in my bed and planning out what we were going to conquer throughout the new year of my life and then an hour or two later, we’d ready ourselves to go out with our mother and eat some more. Birthdays were treated like holidays before his death. No matter whose it was, we’d miss a day of school or work to celebrate.

“He said in his book, during your adulthood years, he’d always write the same quote in every birthday card he to gave you.” Laughter spilled from my lips at him knowing that and I nodded to verify it as truth. He did. I have every card he’s ever given me and that quote is certainly in most of them.

“Yeah, it was one of those Rumi quotes. He had one for every situation you could think of. You were born with potential.”

“You were born with goodness and trust. You were born with ideals and dreams. You were born with greatness. You were born with wings. You are not meant for crawling, so don’t. You have wings. Learn to use them and fly.” I was silenced as he finished the quote for me and my eyes tightly closed as the words flowed through me. He’d say it out loud just as Dante did while I read along with the card in my hand and then he’d plant a kiss on my forehead and warn me to never forget.

“That’s the one. So you’re a big Rumi fan too, huh?”

“That’s a great one and yeah, I’ve read a lot of his work.”

“Can I share something with you?” He’d been asking since we spoke on our hidden talents while on vacation together and though I agreed to share mine, I’ve been avoiding it ever then since because much like any other creator, I’m sensitive about my shit. My sketches started off as a whimsical outlet for me as a child due to films and plays, that turned into something I considered doing for a living at some point in my life. The thought of multitasking being a full time doctor and potential business owner certainly makes me sweat with rattled nerves at the stress of it, but I had high hopes that I could easily pull it off before I got involved with my ex-husband.

“Anything.” While he awaited my return, I jogged to the living room and retrieved my thick dark chocolate colored leather folder out of my personal bag in the living room and rejoined him in the bed.

“Don’t be mean about it.”

“Be mean about what? I haven’t seen anything yet.” He held his hand out with a snicker at my reluctance and I slowly eased it down into his palm. Though he gripped it, I still hadn’t let go.

“I may sound like a wimp, but I’m definitely sensitive about my shit.”

“I understand.” Our eyes remained locked on one another for a few seconds and I eventually let go of what I’ve kept between Shane and I, with my mother having an occasional glance, for damn near two decades.

I did all that I could to keep my attention off of him but his presence alone made it hard for me to do so. I don’t care where we are or how beautiful the sights are, he will always stand out and command my attention with very little to no words at all. His presence is formidable and I’ve found myself attempting to view him through the lenses of others as they turned to give him a glance and immediately looked again in awe or dreamily stare at him from a table a few feet away. I’ve seen men readjust their ties and jackets in hopes that they’re looking as dapper as he is and the most random people figure out ways to approach him for a handshake or quick conversation. If they cannot help themselves, how the hell am I supposed to?

“Holy shit. These are fucking incredible.” I nearly fell over to the side as he quickly hunched forward and focused all of his attention on five out of the hundreds of sketches I sloppily have tucked away in that old folder. The more he pulled out, the more I had the urge to began putting them back inside as he did so. If I don’t, he’s going to have them everywhere.

“Autumn.” I haven’t heard him use my first name in quite some time.

“What?” His head whipped around in my direction and he held up a specific piece that I’d drawn with Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis in mind. I drew that three years ago.

“This looks like something out of the sixties or maybe the seventies. Shit.”

“It’s inspired by Jackie Kennedy.”

“Why wedding gowns? I’m sure your skill can do far more. These are incredible. Also, why the hell haven’t you done anything with these? How long have you been doing this?” He didn’t even give me a chance to begin answering the others before he blurted out his follow up questions.

“I don’t know. I suppose it’s the hopeless romantic in me. There’s something extremely magical about a woman putting on a gown that signifies her finding her the man who swept her off her feet and promised to spend the rest of his life with her. It’s a moment that’s unlike any other. I don’t care what kind of events you attend after it happens, nothing will ever compare to that dress. It’ll be the dress for all of your days. It’s the dress that you’ll always reflect back on, the one you’ll want to pass down to your daughter in hopes that she’ll cherish it just much as you did, and the one that has it’s own special photo album for the family’s keepsake. You’ll look at that album every anniversary and smile whether it’s been one year or fifty years later. So, that inspired me along with gowns from royal weddings and films of course. Whether it’s Vera West’s stunning veil that was worn in Frankenstein, Scarlett O’ Hara’s Vivien Leigh design in Gone With The Wind, or every single gown Carrie Bradshaw tried on during the photo shoot she did in the first Sex And The City film, I’ve been inspired to keep sketching them.” I could list off nearly a hundred gowns that I’ve loved from films. Helen Rose is arguably my favorite designer of all. If only I could have had a chance to meet her.

“Why haven’t you done anything with these?”

“I don’t know baby.” And that’s the truth. Well, that and Shane not being here. We were going to open up two boutiques together; one here in New York and the second in Paris. Both would serve as our only locations. Though it sounds odd for my Pulitzer Prize winning journalist brother to be involved in my love of ball, A-Line, trumpet, and mermaid gowns, but he’d been onboard since he saw my early on crappy designs. It was him who damn near caused me to ruin my fingers by practicing sewing and beading from home. Though he was influencing me to go to Parsons School of Design or the Fashion Institute of Technology so I could further enhance my skills in sewing, I chose NYU as a safety net. The fashion world is fickle and I couldn’t chance attempting to make it a full time job and struggling because no one gave a damn in the long run. Now that I think about it, given the decisions that I did make after two years of undergrad, what did I have to lose?

“Are you going to now? You need to.”

“I want to. I need to go back to school and take more courses in business. I figure I can wrap up my undergrad degree in that and then go from there.”

“Or you can just come straight to a great source who just so happens to be your man and ask him for all of the information professors will give you and all the things that they won’t.” My head met the plush pillows as I erupted into laughter and I nudged him for the sarcasm. Of course I can go to him, but there’s a part of me that believes having that piece of paper hanging up in my mother’s house along side Isaac’s and Shane’s would mean the world to them. There needs to be at least one more college graduation they attend to make all of their handwork full circle. It’s a priceless gift that I’d love to give to them.

“It’ll be important to my family for me to finish up what I started and besides, education has never hurt anyone. I don’t mind going back for the two years that I need to wrap things up. Harvard has an extension school that I’m looking into. I can do most of it online with an accelerated seven weeks during two summers to get it done. So I can be anywhere in the world for most of the courses I have to take and for two summers I go to their Cambridge campus for seven weeks to take two four credit courses.”

“That’s not too bad. We can rent a place up there while you’re there.”

“You’d do that?” My lips parted at how easily he suggested it.

“Of course I would. That’s damn near two months. If you have to be in Massachusetts, then I’ll be there too.”

“Even if I’m not paying you any attention because I’m smothered with school work?”

“Even then. So when are you going to do something with these? You should start now.” Of course he’d switch the subject back to all that he scattered on his king sized bed. I didn’t think he’d be so fascinated.

“It’s not easy. I have to get a team of people involved. It’s a process but I do want to start working towards it. I’m not getting any younger; I’m twenty seven now. If I’m going to do it, now is the time.”

“Can I be an investor?” He threw up a hand like a know it all middle schooler who couldn’t wait until the teacher finished asking the question.

“When the time comes, I’ll consider it.” A year ago, I would have immediately told him no. Now? I know I can’t do it all on my own and most of all, I know that I don’t have to. So, I’ll take his offer into consideration. That’s fair enough.

“You’ll consider it? Whatever. I’m an investor. We’re about to put that store out of business. What’s the name of it? My mother loves that boring show. It’s the show that has the women trying on the wedding dresses and they come out and let their families aggravate them. What is it called?”

“Say Yes To The Dress?” My eyebrow rose as he snapped his finger and nodded.

“And the name of the store?”

“Kleinfeld.”

“That’s it. They’re out of here.” His assurance in the famous store going out of business tickled me. The arrogance about my hypothetical business is already through the roof. I don’t even hear him speak about A& M in that manner and he’s their prized possession.

“Babe, Kleinfeld is like a department store for wedding gowns. It’s like a Saks in a sense. They sell many different brands. For example, Pnina Tornai is an exclusive designer for them, so her gowns are sold there. So, you know how Gucci has their own stores but their products are also carried in luxury department stores? Same concept.”

“So putting them out of business is a bad thing huh?”

“Kind of. I may want to have my gowns sold there one day or maybe I won’t and I’ll keep all exclusivity in my own shops. We’ll see when the time comes. For now, let’s worry about today. I need to hurry and go get my hair done. I need to try and beat traffic to Brooklyn.”

“Take the car.”

“You’re going to let me drive that fancy ass car of yours?” He didn’t bother to look at me. Instead, he held yet another sketch in his hand and reached over to the nightstand for his keys. Instead of a response, he placed the keys on my lap and lazily dropped back against the headboard.

“Mike’s picking me up later on, so don’t worry about rushing back.”

“You want to take a shower together?” The question easily caught his attention. His head jerked back and the smile that graced his face was nothing less than priceless.

“What’s up with you? We barely slept and you’re ready to go at it again?”

“You coming or not?” My fingers tugged on the hem of his t-shirt as it grazed my thighs and he carefully placed the leather folder down on the opposite side of himself and drew the covers back.

“I see you’re trying to add one more holiday to the list of the ones you already celebrate.”

“What? Which one?” I didn’t expect him to lift me up into his arms, but he did so effortlessly and I tightly wrapped my legs around his waist for support.

“Mother’s Day.”

I wished I didn’t find his so called joke as funny as he did, but while he kicked the door close behind us, our laughter filled the spacious bathroom.

That was a good one.

When we’re dining outside of her home, my mother is more of a bougie eater if I must say so myself. If she’s choosing, we typically end up somewhere where we’re damn near flipping the menu’s upside down to find a meal suitable enough for our taste buds while she’s comfortably ordering foreign dishes that she’s enjoyed in her travels or has no fear of experimenting with for the first time. With it being my birthday, it was my choice, so we met one another over at Amy Ruth’s in Harlem so that I could overindulge with a Southern breakfast. I’m not sure where I intended to put chicken wings, a waffle, salmon croquettes, and home fries but I certainly attempted to eat most of it as we sat across from one another and enjoyed a conversation with an array of topics. She, much like my brother, picks my brain so that she’ll be able to update the database that is mind with even more information about me so she can keep up with her truth of knowing me better than anyone else does. I’ve always found that no matter what I do, she always takes an approach to understand my decisions and then accepts them despite her disagreement, if they’re not absurd. I don’t want to say that I’ve lived my life as an unrefined free spirit, but I certainly did have the freedom to express myself however I saw fit to do so and I suppose I took advantage of that in college. Even then, she still accepted me. I just didn’t understand it at the time. It’s still difficult to put her strength into words. I know she inherited that nature from my grandmother and is the polar opposite of my overly sensitive aunt, but how does a mother have the capability to hold it all together after having been faced with the death of one child and the potential deaths of two others. I’ve witnessed the moments when she looked like the life was sucked out of her body. I’ve treaded carefully in her eerie silences. In the midst of my own late night crying, I too, heard hers. I know the pain is still there and yet, here she is, standing tall and being resilient in every position she plays in the world. If I could live up to be half as much of the woman that she is, I’ll know I’ve done well for myself.

“You’re driving Dante’s car today huh? You look good in it. I was caught off guard when I saw you getting out of the driver’s side.”

“Yeah, he had some errands to run so he couldn’t bring me anywhere and I didn’t call Glen.”

“Mhm. Do you know that your face lights up whenever someone mentions his name?”

“You’re stretching it.” A huff followed as my head dropped to look down at the recipe she was placing her signature on. Her lighthearted laughter worsened my blushing.

“Oh, there it is. The blushing. It reminds me of your father and I. What’s amazing is when the person that you’ve been with for so long still makes you feel that way. I knew I was going to marry your father a week after knowing him.”

“A week.”

“Yes. One week. I just knew.”

“Would you have married him after knowing him for a week?” Though it sounds unrealistic, I needed her perspective.

“It would have seemed like one hell of a risk to take, but I would have. Sometimes you just know when you’ve come across a person who is worthy of being a life partner. These days, it seems like it takes three to five years for people to figure out if they want to marry one another. I’ve seen situations where people were together for decades, with kids, and waited until they were in their forties and fifties to actually get married. The younger generation feels compelled to be in a relationship and live together for years before getting engaged. The reluctance is often due to financial stability, the fear of a family withholding you from certain career aspirations, and most of all, change. Your grandmother and grandfather were together for sixty five years. Your great grandmother and great grandfather were together for seventy. Those two got married when they were teens. When you know, you know, and once you do, why wait? Ultimately, it’s up to you.”

“But what if it doesn’t work out?”

“You know, I wasn’t mad that you married Andreas. You thought I was, but I wasn’t. I was mad because my daughter married a stranger to me. I’d never conversed with the man or shook his hand. I didn’t know him any better than I know the strangers sitting around us in this restaurant. If anything, I worried for you because I knew he wasn’t going to be the one. The method that you took to be with him said it all; the sacrifice and the hostility. No honest man would have ever allowed you to do that. That marriage was doomed from the start. It just took one hell of a ride for you to realize that.” If it were two years ago, we would have embarrassed ourselves with an aggressive verbal sparring as I disagreed with her overview of our fate, but now? The accuracy is undoubted.

“And what about now?”

“What about Dante? You tell me.” Her long tresses flipped as she stood to her feet with that all too knowing smirk.

“Well, I love him very much.”

“I know that. You want to know if I think he’s the one?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m almost afraid of your answer.” I tossed the strap of my MCM bag over my shoulder as I eyed the vintage Chanel one loosely hanging by her side. I’m tempted to ask her for a trade off.

“Let me just put it this way. There’s this champagne colored dress that I bought from Roland Mouret the other day that is to die for. It’s asymmetrical with a one shoulder style of design and it’s sculpted in this goodness like silhouette that I fell for instantly. It’s fairly simple and yet very mother of the bride like. If you planned to get married in a week, I’d pull it out of the closet.” If I didn’t know she liked him already, I certainly know it now.

“Now who’s the one blushing? His charm got to you too huh?”

“Well, he is very charming. It’s undeniable.”

“Well, if you can, save the dress. If things keep going the way they are, you may get to wear it in a couple of years. You’ll be too preoccupied with your grandchildren to even notice the wait. Isaac and Lauren already conceived their one. I think the others are going to be one after the other from here on out.”

“Don’t make me wait too long.”

“You go to weddings all the time and besides, it’s not up to me.”

“Then I may not be waiting long.” As we stepped out onto the Harlem sidewalk, we shared an endearing embrace with pecks to our cheeks.

“Enjoy your birthday baby. Make sure you drop by home tomorrow to see your dad. We want to give you your gift together.”

“I will. I’ll be home in the morning.”

“And send me pictures of whatever you’re going to wear tonight. I want to put them on Facebook. Send some to your aunt as well.”

“Mom, no one uses Facebook anymore.”

“I do. So send them.” Her finger tapped my nose.

“I will. I’ll see you in the morning okay?”

“Okay. I can’t believe you’re twenty seven. I remember giving birth to you.”

“Mom.” I knew her sentimental moment would run over into some random conversation about my childhood and I’d rather she do that tomorrow when I’m not on a tight schedule set by Dante. For now? I need to rush and get my nails done and a pedicure. Thankfully it’s not cold, because I’d be suffering tonight in the open toe shoes I plan to wear.

“I know. I know. Go ahead. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

If I didn’t connect my phone and turn on some music during the hour commute back to Brooklyn, I probably would have engaged in road rage and gotten pulled over. I could have gone to a salon in Manhattan but there’s nothing like a good ol’ hood nail salon to do your nails. It sounds damn near stereotypical but I’ve been getting my nails done at the same spot in Brooklyn for years whenever I feel like going. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to do so today, though the traffic is beyond ridiculous. I hit the same amount of traffic on the way back, lessening the leisure time I needed and whatever left over time I’d have to prepare myself for the plans Dante has for me this evening. I’m paying for our lack of sleep and the ice cream I stopped for on the way in did absolutely nothing to assist my fight. I needed a nap and though it’d only be for an hour and a half, it would have to do me enough justice to make it through however long our night out on the town would be.

Late or not, I took it.

“I can’t believe I’ve finally gotten to see Hamilton! The tickets cost a damn kidney and I considered getting them but I sort of fell off of the idea. That was one of the best shows I’ve ever seen.” As soon as I heard about Hip-Hop being infused into a play about Alexander Hamilton, I nearly combusted with excitement because if anyone can pull off such creativity it’s certainly Lin-Manuel Miranda. I’m baffled with awe of what I just witnessed. Genius. Brilliant. Electrifying. Addicting. It was all of those words and then a dictionary full of others.

“It was pretty good. That’s the first Broadway show I’ve enjoyed in a minute.”

“So you didn’t enjoy An American In Paris?”

“I enjoyed watching you enjoy it.” My hand tightened around his as I cut my eyes at him and he shrugged in amusement for what I now know to be true. He doesn’t care for my all time favorite musical.

“I can’t believe you didn’t like it.”

“It was okay. I didn’t hate it.”

“But you wouldn’t watch it again?”

“I would, with you. You watch it religiously, so I’m going to have to get used to it.”

“Okay, you get brownie points for that.” A kiss to his cheek was his reward as we trekked down the West 46th Street. I certainly didn’t say it to him, but with the heads that have turned, I know we’re overdressed for a Broadway show that we both witnessed people arrive to in jeans. I look like I’m on my way to the MTV Awards while Dante on the other hand is suited up, per his usual. The squints from strangers were their way of seeking some sort of familiarity from the both of us and I’m certain nothing rang a bell; at least I hope not. I specifically asked him if my attire for the evening was appropriate because if not, I had a nice pants and top look from Givenchy on standby. He eliminated my second guessing by assuring me that I looked absolutely perfect. Now, I want to smack him in the back of his head.

“Babe, where’s dinner?”

“Buddakan.”

“Buddakan?”

“You think you’ve never heard of it, but you have. You’ve seen it and I’m sure it’s more than once since you were mimicking the movie word for word a couple of weeks back when you were watching it on HBO.”

“What movie?”

“You’ll see.” I consider myself to be one hell of a walker in heels, but the city’s streets are brutal when you’ve parked the car quite a length away from where your destination is. He wanted to pay for a parking garage and my silly ass told him not to. If anyone needs a smack to the back of the head, I now realize it’s me.

“What kind of food do the serve?”

“Uh. East Asian, I believe.” Dear God, please don’t let this be a dinner with my mother type of situation.

“Have you eaten there before?”

“No. I guess we’ll be experimenting together.”

“That can be fun. We’ll pick two dishes a piece and share.”

“We can do more than two.”

“And then we can have dessert at home.”

“Why are you in such a rush to go back home?” As he turned to look at me, the flustered expression on my face was the cause of him roaring in laughter. We both held expressions of shock because I certainly meant it in the way that he took it, but I didn’t want him to notice. I simply wanted an agreement that we would.

“Wow, Peaches.” The Beyoncè reference worsened it.

“Shut up.”

“Is that the energy turning twenty seven brings? I’m liking the way things are going.”

“Dante.”

“Peaches.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Stop being nasty. Actually, don’t stop. Keep that going.” I left him giggling behind me as I let go of him and walked ahead. His laughter tormented me the entire way to the car. Can you blame me? He’s a turn on at all times. It’s his fault, not mine.

A Miguel playlist served as the soundtrack for our twenty minute ride to the restaurant. He’s yet another artist we share a common love for. Shane introduced me to his underground sounds early on and I followed his career ever since. I’m thankful we were able to obsess over both “All I Want Is You” and “Kaleidoscope Dream” together.

“It doesn’t seem too busy out here. You made reservations right?”

“Of course.”

“And we’re parking right out front. Blessings.” My feet are so thankful.

“You ready?” I dropped my lipstick back inside of my chrome metallic bag as he took the key out of the ignition.

“I’m ready and hungry.”

“Alright.”

My anticipation heightened by the expression on his face when he opened up the passenger side door. The mischievous glow was alarming and yet all the more amusing as he held my hand and guided me towards the entrance. The lack of a hostess made it all the more awkward and the silence didn’t help.

“Is this place open?” The faint lightening should have answered the question for me yet I still asked for the sake of my impatient curiosity.

“Of course it is.” He tugged my reluctant frame along despite my whispered protest of a budding embarrassment if it actually is closed. It’s damn near eleven o’clock.

“Surprise!”

My soul swiftly pulled beyond the barrier of my skin and loomed somewhere around me as I shivered and took a step back at the sight of the awaiting crowd at the applewood table. Their eyes beamed at the sight of my reaction and hysterics filled the room as I turned to look at the man who is clearly responsible for it. I had not even the slightest hint that any of this was happening. The coy nature of my mother was flawless this afternoon. Isaac damn near dismissed my birthday with a nonchalant text message about my aging and a gift card for a couple of Botox sessions. Lauren called during my pedicure but, that too, was brief. Rachel texted me instead of making sure I received the call that she promised. And Heather? That jerk hadn’t called since we spoke at midnight. My aunt and uncle are here. Who the hell told them?

“You pranked me!” My face met his chest and I buried my head in it to keep the tears tucked away. Dinner had always been the plan but I never thought that it would be anything more than something between he and I. It’s all I wanted, honestly, but this? It’s far greater. I can’t remember the last time I’ve actually celebrated my birthday with more than just one additional person at my side. The last birthday party I had was a sweet sixteen planned and executed by my brother and mother. Since then, I’ve kept it simple. In Miami; even simpler.

“I said we were having dinner. I never said we were having dinner alone.”

The table at the center of the room was filled with familiar faces that I’ve loved all of my life and those who I have come to love as they came into my life. I had no desire to sit and had never been so thrilled to walk around a table to greet people with hugs, kisses, and appreciation for their presence. Both Stacey and Rachel brought their significant others along and I was more than glad to finally meet the men who are making them happy. Stacey being married to a retired football player is exactly like her. He’s just as adorable as she is. Fine too, if I must add. The surprise guest was Camille. It was an unexpected invitation and yet one that I’m so appreciative of because I’ve already taken a liking to her. There’s something so pure about her spirit and it aches me to know that it’s being wasted on such an unworthy man. The best part of all? The empty seat at the end of the table with an oversized golden ribbon tied around it in honor of my brother. Earlier I couldn’t figure out just how much more I could love Dante and yet here is another moment that takes that love to a place that not even I can comprehend.

“I was slightly afraid of the menu, but this lobster fried rice is on point.” I hadn’t ordered it for myself, but I was certainly enjoying it out of both Dante and Heather’s plates since they were on opposite sides of me. I chose the vegetable fried rice to be on the safe side.

“What’s on point is that dress. Is it heavy?” As her fingers explored the material I dug my fork into her plate again.

“Kind of. It’s not as bad as you think though. When did you get here?”

“When I was on the phone with you, I was laying on your mom’s couch trying not to laugh at how rude you were being as I sung to you. Rude ass. Mario sends his love. He couldn’t make it because of the season but he did send a gift.”

“I’m so happy you’re here. Really.” I learned over to plant a kiss on her cheek and she instantly shrugged me away.

“No, Rudeness. Apologize.”

“I apologize and I love you, Skipper.”

“And I’m the best friend you’ve ever had.”

“You’re my only best friend though.”

“Say it.” She wasn’t going to move on until I did.

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“Now you can kiss me.” My two kisses were finally welcomed and so was my fork as it invaded her plate again.

I’d been such a long time since I laughed and smiled until my face and body hurt, but it was all I could do as nearly everyone reminisced on an nostalgic memory and recent flashback about myself. Instead of wanting to crawl under the table until the moment is over, I basked in my childish stupidity, high school memories, and the moments that my love ones still hold near and dear to them. There were some I shared with Dante and others that I’m sure he mentally stored to tease me about at a later date.

“You have to bring Dante to Martha’s Vineyard for spring break, so that he can see where else you’ve grown up at.” I hadn’t realized that so many of the memories being reflected on were from out times on our family vacations. Initially, I disliked going up there because I thought it was the most lifeless place to to have a vacation home, but I eventually came to appreciate it as I aged. Besides that, President Obama gave it his seal of approval on his family’s many trips there, so who am I to knock it?

“I will Auntie, for as long as you’re there to make cheesecake.”

“Yes, I know. One for you and then one for the rest of the house.”

“And when she says one for Autumn, she means exactly that. You won’t hear the end of it if you try and sneak a piece of it.”

“Don’t put my greed on the spot Uncle Ray.”

“Please do, because I certainly got snapped at over it.” I knew Heather would butt in with her side of the story. It was the last piece and I told everyone not to touch it. The late night sneak eater that she is disregarded what I requested. She deserved it.

“Can I give a toast?” Isaac annoyingly tapped his sterling silver folk into the body of his glass of water and stood to his feet. I made a mental note to whisper how proud I am of his continued efforts to remain alcohol free. Every single person at this table is having a cocktail and he’s been sitting there with a glass of water sparkling water filled with cucumber, mint, and lemongrass the entire time. His resilience is admirable.

“Please don’t.” His snicker at my response opened up the floor for even more laughter as he continued to stand to his feet anyway.

“So, my little sister has hit the late twenties.”

“Is it really the late twenties? I’m thinking the seven keeps it at the midrange. Twenty eight is late.”

“I remember when mom told me that she was pregnant with you. I was annoyed. I only wanted a little brother and I had that, so I wasn’t so sure where she was going with things.” Instantly, my hand rose and it’s middle finger followed. While funny, I know his block head ass really did feel that way.

“When you were born, I instantly felt this sense of protection towards you. You were so innocent but there was this strength within you that mirrored moms and it manifested as you grew. You’re the cool sister. I know you may not believe it but I bragged about that often. We could sit around and argue about the NBA and you’d be just as knowledgeable about it as any guy. We would watch the Super Bowl together and we even attended the U.S. Open together. Remember?”

“Of course”. How could I forget? That was one of the coolest experiences ever.

“There was something about you that I knew was special and I knew you were going to shine in some kind of way. I still see that within you. You were always a source of support and encouragement for both Shane and I. Often times, we felt like you were were the oldest because you used to and still do talk like you’re someone’s grandmother. That forehead of yours holds all of the world’s wisdom.”

“Not my fault you have dad’s box head.” It felt like we were at the dining room table in New Jersey having a Sunday dinner when my dad balled up his napkin and threw it at me. Usually, he’d be scolded for it by his demure wife but this evening she found it just as funny as everyone else.

“It’s been a great year for you and having you working along side me has been not only been relieving but also incredible. Your work ethic is of no surprise to me because I know that you’re capable of greatness. So thank you for bringing your A-game to the companies and being an example for everyone else. I’m proud of you. I know I don’t say that enough, but I’m going to work on that. I’m proud of you and I’m happy to feel like my sister is reachable again. So, Happy Birthday, Autumn. May this birthday be as beautiful as your spirit and may the man upstairs grant you a hundred more for us to celebrate. I love you.” A moment so unexpected and yet probably the most important of the night goes to Isaac. It’s been quite some time since we’ve shown one another our appreciation by the way of words and we’ve treaded around doing it with actions. I’ve never doubted that he loves me, but I did began to believe that he’d never like me again. I’ve never been more relieved to know that isn’t the truth. I need my brother and now I understand he needs me just as much.

“Thank you brother.” Though improper, we leaned over the table for kisses to one another cheeks. I know there’s been a photograph taking photos, but God do I hope that this moment was recorded. I want it for keepsake.

“My turn?” Stacy giddily stood up and Mike followed.

“Our turn.”

“I want in.” Fredrick too joined them in standing and I clapped before anyone else could because I knew their moment was sure to be silly yet filled with genuine love.

“Autumn, I knew of you before Dante ever mentioned you. Why? Because his whole entire demeanor changed. There was something occupying his mind, but I didn’t know what until I questioned him about you and he damn near rushed me of the phone in nervousness. I asked him were you pretty and I literally heard his heartbeat over the phone.” I’d finally been taken out of the spotlight and it was now the humble man beside me who reddened in sheepishness and shook his head at his wordy executive secretary.

“When I had Kaylee, he came to visit me at the hospital and though I didn’t say it because he was already trying to figure out what he was feeling, I knew that he was falling in love with you. He may kill me for this later, but I asked him what is it about you that drew him to you and he told me two things, one being that you saw him beyond barriers that no one else has reached and two that you made him confront things about himself and his life that he had tucked away for quite some time. So many people here have spoken on your strength and you instilled so much of that within him. As I watched you two in his office the day you came by for the first time, I just knew. I felt the energy in the room as soon as I entered it and it thrilled me to know that someone who I consider to be my little brother has now found what I’ve wanted for him all along.”

“And it only took thirty years.” Mike butted in to draw giggles out of the entire table.

“Autumn, we not only like you, but we love you. You’re family now, so you’re stuck with us. I figured you would be once I saw you and Dante trying to make love in the club.” I’m not sure if I gasped or choked at his sensationalized version of what happened. I’m not even sure which night he’s referencing to.

“We were just talking, Mike.”

“That’s not the night I’m talking about!” In an instant my mother’s brow perked up as she amusingly awaited some sort of explanation. I’m never going to hear the end of this from she and Auntie Larissa.

“We were dancing.”

“If that’s what you call it.”

“Mike…” Though he did his best to conceal it, the smirk on Dante’s face was priceless. I don’t care how old I am and how many of my own bills I pay, I would rather not have my elders hearing anything about me making any type of love, especially in a damn club. Besides that, Mike is lying.

“And I knew it before then.” Fredrick added. “ But it was something about the night of the grand opening in L.A. that really sealed it for me. Though it was a special moment, your presence made it even more special for him. I felt like he stared at you in pride more than he did the establishments that we opened up. That’s when it really dawned on me that we have a new member to our little family. I think it’s time for that to be official.”

“Aw shit. We getting tattoos?” Though Dante would probably never do that, I asked for the sake of the laughter and to earn a deserved side eye from him. He’s not interested in ink though he doesn’t mind mine. One of these days I’ll convince him to get one with me.

“Not quite.”

The pace in my chest slowed to the point of an intense tightening as Dante stood to his feet. He wasn’t there long. With one leg extended, he slowly inched himself down until he was properly on one knee along side of my seat. My surroundings slowed as the sights I was once admiring blurred to an unsteady view. The trembling of my hands had absolutely nothing to do with the after effects of a stroke and everything to do with the moment that is snatching every bit of breath I have within me. The squeals of every estrogen filled body did nothing to tear my attention away from the vulnerable man who stared up at me with his soul completely exposed and his heart on the most unsteady line. What have I done to deserve this? How is this happening?

“Autumn. I spent days trying to figure out how to put into words how much you mean to me. Yesterday, I sat in my office for hours writing different things to say to you and even trying to rehearse, but nothing felt right. I just know it needed to be something from my heart. It’s so crazy that you’re here. I did a lot of hoping for you. I did some praying. I wondered what you’d be like and where you’d be from. My insecurities questioned whether I’d be enough and if you’d accept that I’m still growing. I even questioned if you’d ever come, but I knew if my faith was genuine then I had to realize that blessings come on God’s time. I’m not sure if I ever pictured the love of my life literally falling into my arms like something out of a movie, but I suppose he can be a clever God huh?” Every tear met my chest and rolled down into the napes of my bosom as his lighthearted moment earned a reaction from our boisterous audience.

“I know that you once had someone in your life who broke some of the most important vows there are, but I’d like to show you that you now have someone who intends to honor every single one of them until my very last breath as an old man. I want to share everything that I have with you and most of all, I want to share all of my days with you. There’s nothing more to look for. You’re right here. This is it. I spoke with every single family member of yours at this table yesterday for their approval and then I sat with your mom for a long time just to gain her perspective and she told me, when you know, you just know and I’ve never known anything in my life as quick as I’ve come to know this. I love you, Autumn Nicolette Dupont, unconditionally and irrevocably. So, would you do me the honors of being my wife? Will you marry me?”

There have been a number of dreams that contained variations of this moment; most have been while I’m awake. There was a particular one where I envisioned him asking me this life changing question in the backyard of a Malibu home that I hadn’t even seen yet. After each fantasy, I’d chuckle at myself and shrug it off as a farfetched possibility. I never doubted that he loved me, I only wondered if I’d be enough and if my baggage is too much for the both of us to carry. My doubts were foolishness. He’s been showing me how worthy I am all along. Every moment we’ve shared thus far had signs within them that this moment would come. His every word. It was the way his eyes looked into mine and studied me. It was the months of him welcoming me into his world and showing me just a bit of what he has to offer. It’s the way I become one with him when we’re making love. All of it. All of it leads to right here, right now.

“Yes. Yes. Of course. Yes.”

I could feel the ring being slid onto my finger, but my tears wouldn’t allow me to see it. All I could do was throw my arms around his neck while the moment continued to consume me.

What a way to welcome twenty seven. It’s one that I’ll never forget.

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