#and very few authors seem to be able to grasp that part of her without destroying what made it work

[llycaons]

ik jyl is underdeveloped and stereotypical but there are ways to develop and respect her character that aren't having her do things she simply wouldn't do

[wososcripts]

I've Been Getting Lost in Translation (Part Two)

(these kits are god awful but you didn't hear that from me)

stina blackstenius x reader; part one can be found here

Summary: You finally get to meet your girlfriend’s parents, but you aren’t sure they’re aware the two of you are more than just friends.

A/N: Here's part two finally! I hope it's worth the wait for you all lol, make sure you read the first part as well as that author's note for clarity! As usual, nothing I write is intended to speculate or infringe upon player's personal lives, it's all 100% fiction and done in good fun.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings⚠️: very very slight mentions of anxiety and self-harm behaviors, but it really isn't featured here more than a passing mention

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You could feel Stina's eyes on you as you came down the stairs and joined the group in getting ready to go, you felt them on you in the car, and once you got to the skating rink. She never seemed to not be looking at you, sending worried little glances your way that you just couldn't interact with right now if you wanted to keep it together. 

"Here are Linnéa's extra skates." Stina's mom held out a pair of ice skates for you to grab. "I'm not sure they'll fit, but Stina said you were around the same size as her sister… otherwise you can rent a pair here." 

She gave you a warm smile and left you to try them on, already lacing up her own and taking off on the ice. 

It was a beautiful day, sunny and cold with a thick layer of snow on the ground from a couple of days ago. And the rink was amazing. It was well maintained, but still had the feeling of a pond you'd have skated on as a child. 

Stina's sister came to sit down next to you, explaining some of the quirks with the skates. You had to pull the laces hard to get them to fit in the clasps at the top before you could tie them, she showed you, yanking on your ankle a little roughly for your liking.

"Linnéa, be careful with her foot!" You heard Stina call from the ice. 

Linnéa waved her off, turning to you.

"Does it hurt?" 

You shook your head.

"That ankle is just a bit sensitive. I broke it in June." 

"Well the laces being tight will make sure that doesn't happen again," she laughed, then glanced to make sure Stina wasn't looking at you two and said something lowly to you. "How is she doing in London? I mean she says everything is going well, but it's hard to know when we're not there to see her."

You smiled, genuinely for the first time in hours.

"She's doing great. Everyone loves her, she's been playing fantastic this season, she gets along well with the coach and the players. I really don't think there's anything for you to worry about." 

"It's good that she has you and Amanda there. She seems reserved but without a few good people around her I know she gets lonely."

"What are you two slow pokes waiting for?" Stina's father skated by, gesturing for you to come on. 

Linnéa followed him, starting a conversation with him in Swedish you could hardly grasp onto. How this family managed to speak so quickly, you were lost on.

You joined the rest of them on the ice, trying to ignore your poor mood from earlier. Moping around was no way to make a first impression. So you tried to suck it up and let the joy of the moment overtake you. You hadn't skated in years, having played in Italy for a bit before moving to London. There never seemed to be enough time, or good rinks close by. And when you were back in Germany you mostly wanted to see your family and Laura. 

You ended up skating with Stina’s nephew, a boy around seven. He was already impressively steady on his skates, something you would not have been able to say at his age. But still, he held your hand and talked your ear off in Swedish you only partially understood. 

"Did you come with aunt Stina?" He asked, to which you nodded. 

"We play for the same football team in England." You explained in your slow Swedish.

"Did you come here on a plane?" You nodded again, smiling. 

"We flew here yesterday, from London."

The boy considered you for a moment.

"You speak funny," he proclaimed, letting go of your hand, "watch what I can do!" 

And with that he skated in front of you, circling around you playfully as you stood still. You grinned at him, giving a round of applause when he was done.  

“Hey,” you heard Stina come up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder as to not startle you. 

You gave her a smile which she softly returned. 

“What are you two up to?” 

“He’s showing me his incredible skating skills,” You replied.

Stina’s nephew nodded and twirled around again, clearly looking for more praise. 

Stina cheered him on, catching one of his hands and spinning him once more. 

“Very impressive,” she praised, “Unfortunately we’ve got to go eat some lunch. It’s getting dark out.” 

You looked up at the sky, having not realized that she was right, the sun was setting already. You checked your phone and saw it was barely one pm. 

Stina’s nephew nodded and shot forward ahead of you two, rushing back to where his parents were. 

“How are you doing?” Stina asked. 

You could tell she was still unsettled by what had happened earlier in the bathroom by how careful she was with you, how she treated each interaction tentatively. You felt badly for making her worry, for turning this visit with her family into yet another stressful situation rather than the relaxing break you both needed.

“I’m doing all right.” You gave the hand on your shoulder a squeeze and started to skate in the direction of the exit, a little further away from her than you would normally. 

You felt the distance seemingly in every stride you took, agonizing over your choice to move further from her. You were upset by the lack of any physical affection, and yet here you were removing even the chance that she might initiate it. It was self sabotage, you knew. Yet it was still difficult not to indulge in it. Whether she felt the distance as much as you did, you couldn’t know. 

“Why does Aunt Stina’s friend speak so funny?” You heard Stina’s nephew ask his mother, to which you couldn’t help but chuckle as she scolded him lightly. 

“She’s still learning Swedish, baby, she’s from Germany.”

“You’re from Germany?” The boy asked you once you were in front of him, skates in hand. He said it as if it were some far away land, not in the same continent. 

You nodded and ruffled his hair a bit, giving him a smile. You sat down on the bench, unlacing your skates and indulging the boy as he asked you several questions about Germany and what it was like there. You noticed Stina had a firm watch on you as you started to take your left skate off—the one that Linnéa had tugged on. It was aching a bit, that was true. But you simply massaged it for a moment and stood up like you couldn't feel a thing.

“Thanks again for lending me the skates,” You said to Stina’s mother, giving them back carefully. 

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

The eight of you decided to eat at a small restaurant not far from the rink. Sunset was already in full force, vibrant orange and pink staining the sky around you.

Stina had borrowed her sister's car that morning, preferring not to be squished in the back seat all day. The drive over gave you a bit of privacy, which you spent in relative quiet, Stina's playlist playing softly through the car speakers. Her hand was on your thigh innocently, and every once in a while she glanced over. Maybe she expected you to say something. But you knew if you started now, you wouldn't be able to stop.

You were thankful for your sturdy sneakers as you stepped out of the car, a twinge in your ankle rippling up your leg. It was more sore than you would've expected, but nothing you were overly worried about. The doctor had warned you that some days might give you more trouble than others, and that was normal. You would just have to take care to ice it this evening before you went to bed. 

And by the looks of it, Stina would be making sure you did anyway. 

She was robbed of her chance to ask if it was bothering you by her nephew, who seemed to have taken a real liking to you. He came barreling at you, arms open for you to lift him up. You weren't all that tall, and he certainly had inherited his family's height, so lifting him was a bit complicated. Eventually the two of you decided on a piggy back after some awkward maneuvering. 

"He likes you," Stina's brother commented, tickling his son lightly. "He's normally quite reserved around new adults."

You smiled at him, feeling your heart soar. This, this was what you wanted from the trip. You wanted Stina's family to love you, for her not to have to worry about you fitting in or being accepted. 

"She's going to sit next to me!" The boy announced once the waiter had shown you to your booth.

"Do I need to be worried?" Stina joked, to which her nephew stuck out his tongue. 

She returned the favor playfully.

"No need to fight, there's plenty of me to go around."

The booth wasn't all that big, which was how you explained Stina's closeness. Most of your right side was pressed right up against hers, something you initially tried to rectify, only to receive a strange look from her. You cursed yourself for how unsure you were being. You'd spent months like this before the two of you had started dating and it nearly drove you (and your teammates) crazy. 

You let Stina order for you since she had been here before and she knew what you liked. The tiredness was beginning to hit you. It was dark outside now, and between skating for a few hours, entertaining a seven year old, and worrying over your relationship, you'd had quite the day. Thankfully you had ibuprofen in your bag in case of one of your headaches. 

Whatever Stina had ordered you looked delicious when it came out. You dug in, realizing then how hungry you were. Usually you had a snack in between breakfast and lunch particularly on training days.  

You were surprised to feel a hand on your knee a little while later. You were listening to a story her nephew was intently explaining to you as he colored in one of the books his mother brought for him, and suddenly it was there. It was something so completely normal you couldn't believe how much it shocked you. If anything, that was proof of how much you had gotten in your own head. Back home it would be impossible to imagine sitting next to Stina without her hand resting lightly on you somewhere. It helped ground her, she said. 

But now, your thoughts were racing with every move she made. Stina's fingers drummed absentmindedly on your thigh, the rhythm of them distracting you slightly from her nephew. She didn't usually tap unless she was feeling fidgety, which meant she was anxious. Was Stina feeling something similar to what you were? Was it out of anxiety that she was keeping things secret? The idea of your relationship inspiring such emotions in your girlfriend made the lump in your throat that much bigger. Maybe she was picking up on your mood. Stina had always been very perceptive (because she spent so much time quietly watching, you often teased) and seemed to pick up on your moods without issue. But you’d been trying to hide this. 

You caught her eye and sent her a quick smile. A piece of hair had fallen into her eyes and you wanted desperately to push it behind her ear as you normally would. But the gesture seemed too intimate now. It was as if you were in a glass cage, every move observed with the chance of exposing your feelings. But what was the problem in that, you asked yourself. You loved Stina, openly. Why were you letting this affect you so much? 

Stina's sister declared that she wanted to do a bit of shopping after lunch, which the rest of the group was perfectly amicable to. It wasn’t all that late, and you’d get a chance to see the Christmas market all lit up. Stina's nephew certainly hadn't taken much convincing once Linnéa mentioned stopping at the toy store to look at something.

"Am I your favorite now?" Linnéa asked him, looking at you with a sly grin on her face.

"Yes!" The boy cried, smiling wide.

"You can't buy true connection, Linnéa," you teased, still helping to color.

"Can't buy connection." The boy repeated wisely. "I still like Stina's friend too."

You smiled and ruffled the boy's hair, suggesting quietly in his ear that you move to another page and make a drawing for Stina. 

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Linnéa joined you and Stina in the car on the way back to their parent’s house, adding to the tension that had been building since the eight of you had gone shopping. Stina had stuck close to your side, and you’d done your best to act normally while keeping some distance. You needed to sort your head out, and being close to her wasn’t helping. Thankfully her nephew provided a good excuse to be tugged in all sorts of directions—he had decided you were his favorite once more, leaving Linnéa to hang behind with her siblings. 

Once you had reached the Christmas market, after a short detour in the toy store where you had agreed to get matching dragon plushies for you and the young boy, each of you wandered off on your own. You, Stina’s brother, and her nephew headed first for the big tree that had been decorated in the square while the rest went to get something hot to drink. You had managed to sneak off under the guise of having to find the toilet, Stina’s brother covering for you if you needed. You wanted to get a small gift for Stina, something in addition to what you’d already purchased. Most of it was back in London since bringing it all on the plane was a hassle. 

You’d found a perfect gift at a small stall tucked away near the edge of the market where an older woman was selling vintage jewelry. You picked through it slowly at first, not sure you would find anything. Most of it was too gaudy for Stina, and too impractical. But then you found a simple pendant with two stones in the middle—an amethyst and an opal, each of your birth stones, set in a complex circular pattern that reminded you a bit of some of the celtic designs Katie had shown you. You had purchased it immediately, no matter that it was overpriced. 

Now you were sat listening to Linnéa’s music quietly as the three of you drove, trying not to nod off. You were unsuccessful, because the next thing you remembered was being jolted awake by Linnéa’s door falling shut. You heard Stina chuckle next to you and put a hand on your shoulder, likely amused by how suddenly you had shot up. You chuckled along with her and patted her hand, putting your coat back on to brave the cold once more. 

“Is your ankle bothering you?” Stina asked you quietly as you all began to walk back to the house for dinner preparations. 

You thought that you had been hiding the slight limp in your walk well, certainly nobody else had noticed, but nothing escaped your girlfriend apparently. 

“Only a bit. I’ll ice it later and it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“You should’ve said something if it was hurting, I told Linnea to be careful—” she was beginning to ramble, but you cut her off. 

“Stina, it’s fine. I said I’m fine. I know what I can and cannot handle.” 

It was a lie, and the both of you knew it. You were a stubborn bastard. Stina had been with you through your recovery, through every incident where you pushed yourself too hard only to have to face the consequences. She’d found you on the kitchen floor, comforted you after a physio session, seen you train with the team for the first time again. It was insulting to allege she didn’t know when too much was too much.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, already feeling bad for snapping at her. It wasn’t fair, she didn’t even know what was wrong and you were what? Punishing her? 

“I just don’t want to see you hurt again. Do you know how horrible that was? To see you in that much pain?” Stina’s eyes were glossy with just the memory. 

You weren’t sure what to say to that. You and Stina didn’t talk much about your injury and recovery. It was still too fresh, barely more than a couple months old. The crack of your ankle, the blood, her tears, her gentle shaking hands, it was all still at the front of your mind. 

You were saved from having to formulate a response by Stina’s mother calling her to the kitchen. She left you, only looking back once to give you a slight smile, showing that the two of you were okay. But you knew the time to confront what was going on needed to come quickly. 

You sat with Stina’s brother on the sofa and watched some Swedish Christmas program mindlessly. Mostly you were thinking about how to go about talking to Stina later. “Directness is key”, Laura's voice reminded you. You just had to say it, without blaming anyone. Just focus on yourself, your feelings.

It wasn't clear how long you sat there quietly before dozing off again, but Stina’s nephew was the one to wake you for dinner, doing so by climbing into your lap. 

"It's dinner time." He said, poking at your shoulder. 

You forced your eyes open, giving him a drowsy smile. 

“Okay, Prinzi” you replied, picking him up off your lap so you could stand. He managed to hang on to your side though, and you ended up lifting him onto your hip anyway. 

Fuck, you cursed silently as you noticed your ankle was even more tender than when you had fallen asleep. You’d have to check for bruising later and keep off it for the rest of the night. But still, you carried Stina’s nephew to the table with ease, setting him in his seat next to his mother who shot you a sheepish smile. 

“Tired, aren’t you?” You heard a voice behind you, and then a gentle hand at your back. 

It was Stina, who smelled of something sweet in the kitchen. You wanted to lean back into her and not move for the rest of the night. Instead you just nodded. 

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“You’ve been playing babysitter all day, that might be part of it.” She smiled. 

You nodded in agreement, a smile on your face as well.

"You're so good with him," she whispered into your ear, "it's adorable."

You had caught her taking pictures of you with her nephew a couple times throughout the day, and now, as you briefly as her phone light up with notification, it seemed she had set one of them as her lockscreen.

"I try my best. He's a good kid."

"Well, he's in good hands."

Dinner was delicious, but relatively uneventful. After an entire day together everyone was happy to sit quietly and enjoy the food. Stina’s nephew joked with you a couple times, still wanting all of your attention, but even he seemed to be winding down for the night.

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

After the table was cleared and the dishes had been washed (a task delegated to Stina’s brother this time), the group splintered off. Linnéa was going out to meet with a few friends, Stina’s brother and his family had to go home before it got too late, and Stina’s parents had settled in the living room. The two of you were welcome to join, they offered, for a nightcap. But it was clear that maybe you and Stina needed some alone time. 

So you bid everyone good night, thanking them for a wonderful day, and giving Stina’s nephew a big hug goodbye (even though you would be seeing him the next day). You tried to prepare for what you knew was a difficult discussion coming your way. In and out, you tried to remind yourself.

“Go ahead, I’ll be in in a minute,” Stina told you when you reached the bedroom door.

You nodded, thankful for the extra minute to think. The room was quiet around you. You felt the quilt beneath your hands, taking another deep breath. You didn’t need to overthink this. It was simple. And Stina loved you, you reminded yourself. 

There was a knock at the door, after which Stina slowly opened it and slipped inside. She had a bag of ice in her hands, presumably for your ankle. Already you felt tears spring to your eyes.

“Here, for your foot.” 

She lifted your leg, grabbing a chair for you to prop it up on, and pressed the ice to it.  

“So,” Stina paused, still standing before you, “What’s wrong?” You opened your mouth, but were cut off before you could say anything. “And don’t say it’s nothing, I can tell it isn’t. And I want to know, I want you to tell me, whatever it is.” 

You chuckled internally at the similarity to Laura’s demand earlier. Stina knew you too well for you to hide from her either. That made your heart ache a little bit. 

Your lack of response seemed to signal to Stina that you needed more convincing because she knelt down in front of you, taking your hands in hers. 

“What were you doing in the bathroom earlier? Why did you look so upset? All day, I can see you trying to hide it, but I know you’re hiding something. It hurts me too, to see you like that. It’s like a thorn in my ribs.” 

Your lip trembled, and you bit down hard on your cheek until you could feel blood in your mouth. It rushed onto your tongue, the metallic taste distracting you from the urge to cry. Stina had caught your gaze, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

“Do your parents know we’re together?” Your voice held steady as you asked. 

Whatever she had been expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. Stina let out an airy chuckle, looking relieved. You brought your gaze to the floor, eyes wetting rapidly, which Stina quickly noticed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” She brought a hand up to your face, brushing the hair away from it. She sat next to you, moving up from where she was kneeling, and pulled you into her. “Look at me.” She put a finger under your chin, drawing your gaze to hers. The sight of your eyes nearly broke her heart. She hadn’t seen your face crumple in on itself like this since you were injured. The idea that something she had done could have caused you pain like that made her feel indescribably awful. 

“Of course they know, of course they do.”

You let out a sigh of relief, putting your head in your hands. You felt a hand on the back of your neck, rubbing the skin there tenderly.

“Then why have you been so…distant all day? And yesterday? This morning at breakfast, I couldn’t even hold your hand. It seemed like you didn’t want your family to see us together. I thought maybe you… I don’t know, that you were unsure of us, or afraid, or—” 

“That’s not it, I promise,” she said, wiping a tear away that had fallen from your eye. Fuck, you hated crying this much. “It’s just odd for me to be affectionate in front of my parents. They never were very touchy with each other in front of us, so it just feels like some unspoken rule. And then when my brother married his wife, they were the same way. But I promise, tomorrow I’ll try—”

You shook your head. You could tell Stina was upset too now, and you didn't want that. That wasn't the point of this. Tears continued to stream from your eyes, and you continued to swipe harshly at them.

“No, no. It’s all right. I don’t need you to be affectionate in front of them, I understand. It just seemed strange when I didn’t know the reason. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

Stina seemed at a loss for a moment, truly shocked. She pulled you into a kiss, pressing her lips firmly against yours once, twice, three times before pulling back.

“You’re in this house too. And we’re a team: you don’t just have to do things the way we do. I’m supposed to meet you in the middle, okay? We’re in a relationship—if something hurts you, or is important to you, I want to know.” 

You nodded, squeezing her hand as a small thanks. The taste of blood trickled through your mouth, reminding you of the wound. You did your best to swallow it down. 

“Come on, let’s get you into something more comfortable,” Stina said, helping you up. 

She opened the dresser, looking for some of the pants you had brought. When she turned around, in her hands were a pair of grey sweats and one of her long sleeve Swedish national team shirts. 

“Sit,” she requested, pointing at the bed. 

You followed, sitting and allowing her to help you undress. It was totally non-sexual, Stina was wholly concerned in caring for you. Once you were dressed in the casual clothes she had picked out, Stina returned to your side, your ankle in her lap as she massaged the skin gently. 

“Was that what made you think I hadn’t told them?”

“It seems silly… but I also overheard them talking to your aunt in the kitchen last night.” You took a breath, trying to banish the tears for good. “I know my Swedish isn’t that good, but I was doing my best to keep up, and they kept referring to me as your friend, your friend, Stina’s friend.” 

Stina looked at you, confused. 

“They did? What did they say?” 

You did your best to repeat the word, cringing at your own pronunciation. 

“Väninna?” She repeated, and you nodded. “Who told you that means friend?”

“Amanda.” you replied, “She said it was like a female friend.” 

Stina shook her head, laughing. 

“What?” You asked, a bit indignant. 

“It does mean that. But it also means girlfriend. I don’t think Amanda thought you’d ever run into the word. It’s a bit old fashioned.” Stina explained. 

“Oh…” you said, feeling very stupid, and very relieved. 

“Come here,” Stina said, leaning back against the headrest and gesturing for you to settle against her. She grabbed the bag of ice on your foot and shifted it to lie comfortably again. “I’m sorry you had to go through the day thinking I’d invited you here under friendly pretenses.” 

You could tell she was making fun of you, just a little, but that there was sincerity in her voice too. One of her hands crept under your shirt, resting comfortingly on your stomach. 

“I hope you don’t treat all your friends like you did yesterday morning.” You replied, snuggling closer to her. For the first time in days your head wasn’t full of doubts, and you could relax wholly. You just wanted to enjoy her warmth around you. You had faith that tomorrow would be great, that you could finally enjoy your time here the way you were meant to.

She chuckled, hugging you closer to her and pressing a kiss to your upward-turned lips. 

“No, definitely not. I usually have better decision making skills around most people.” 

“I guess I’m just special then, huh?”

[belespritbooks]

My first read of 2024! (well the first book I’ve finished, anyway.)

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️ + 1/2

Thoughts:

Mixed bag. Structure wise, this book was a very interesting read. I read this book for one of my classes, and we briefly touched upon how Faulkner's writing in this work seems to be much more geared towards showing off his literary skills. And in my opinion, I think this was the driving force of the novel rather than the message. To me, as a book worm, nerd, and student of literature, of course literary skill is impressive and important in great literary works, but I find that the most impactful books are ones that you put down and are truly moved by the story or the language. This book I was simply quite confused.

I'll explain why I feel this way for a few reasons: first the structure. The book being split into different parts with different narration (and different narrative styles) was, stylistically, very intriguing and impressive. Readers encountered Benjy's unique lens of the world, which didn't provide us much context or structure. This could either completely repel readers, or intrigue them further by the mystery Faulkner sets up. We are then introduced to Quentin's section, which I'll get into detail for in a second. The narration here is slightly less confusing, but because of his unique character, it is still quite broken and confusing. In Jason's section, the narration is much more clear and we're provided more context for the Compson's family relations, such as Caddy's daughter, Quentin, living with Jason and their mother. On pages 212 to 214, we're also given insight on the terrible way Jason treats his sister, as well as her crumbling life: begging for contact with her daughter, and begging for some money. Finally in the last section, readers are provided with a third-person omniscient narrator (and the writing in this section was GORGEOUS). Because there were four distinct types of narration, it seems to me Faulker was more focused on style than the message. Of course there was an important message, but because the style was so insanely confusing at times, I'm not sure how much of the message readers truly receive by the end of the book. Which is the beauty of literature: some books are so incredibly written it takes three or four reads to truly understand the point. But for me, since two sections of this book had incredibly difficult narrative styles, I'm not even sure how much I grasped of the plot or the family dynamic, never mind the meaning behind these relations. It was almost so stylistically impressive that it's just too frustrating to understand.

Though I would like to add: the different narration styles had a point: Faulkner was trying to express the same idea or feeling in each section, with four different methods of writing. In interviews, he shared that he saw this book as a failure; saying he was never truly able to get his message across, no matter which narrative style he chose. That is the beauty of this novel: Faulkner deliberately demonstrates the limits of language. My favorite example of this is the church sermon at the end of the novel, from pages 292-296. On page 292, Faulkner describes the church to look like a painting: “the whole scene was as flat and without perspective as a painted cardboard set upon the ultimate edge of the flat earth…” These descriptions of the scene as painted signify how Faulkner’s words on the page are flat and two dimensional. During the sermon, the preacher barely says anything, but the church goers have a transcendental experience just being in the room: experience allows one to transcend language itself. The only way to truly grasp human truths is to transcend language itself; it limits us, whereas experience frees us. The preacher seems to communicate to the crowd through empathy and emotion rather than words. It is the spaces in between the words where the emotion is felt, where the meaning is given to the crowd, just like in literature. The greatest authors know how to infuse meaning into a page, in between the words, not having to state it in their language.

To touch upon Faulkner's writing style: it is quite beautiful. I really loved Quentin's section now that I understand it better. His narration is confusing and patchy due to his deteriorating mental health and him grappling with past memories he cannot get out of his head. In class, I could not get away from pages 150 and 151, which is dialogue Quentin is remembering from the past before he left for Harvard. Here is just a snippet:

"hes crossed all the oceans all around the world...

do you love him

her hand came out I didnt move it fumbled down my arm and she held my hand flat against her chest her heart thudding

no no

did he make you then he made you do it"

The dialogue not having any quotations, punctuation, or pointing out who is speaking, represents Quentin's scrambled thoughts as this scene is from a long time ago: when remembering specific conversations years after, its almost impossible to remember exact words and phrases. That is why it feels so scrambled. Also significant is that this long period of dialogue pops up right in the middle of Quentin's present storyline, and when readers jump back to the present, we've missed Quentin being in a fight, because we were caught up in his past thoughts overtaking him.

Also, I chose this part of the dialogue to discuss how Quentin refused to believe Caddy had lost her virginity and instead made up a narrative in his head that she was raped. Quentin's feelings represent the values of the old South; he didn't want to believe Caddy had become impure before marriage or that a young woman was freely making sexual choices. Therefore, he wanted to believe he could protect her virginity by saying she was raped and "killing" her rapist. I could talk about Quentin's section forever: it was my favorite part.

However, it was still so confusing. I had actually thought Caddy was raped until we discussed it in class, because we are so trapped in his head in the book, and his narration is so broken with no explanation. Such as how he would frequently break his present narration (in the beginning of his section) and reflect on a memory in italics of him telling his father he had committed incest with Caddy. This was a made-up story to again excuse Caddy becoming impure in Quentin's eyes, but I wouldn't have put that together on my own, and likely not through a second time reading.

[zucchinibread777books]

ACOTAR Book Review pt.4

The next two posts (hopefully the last) are the main reasons why I felt that this book is just genuinely not good. They are the main things I disliked about the book and the most harmful parts in my opinion. Every book has a message, whether it is intentional or not. Books like the hunger games and Percy Jackson hold up because the authors had something to say and made sure that the plot supported that. When an author does not intentionally write their books with a message in mind, their plot loses value and they end up accidentally reflecting poor ideals throughout the story. That is what happened in this book. The author had nothing real to say about the problems that the main character had to face, and thus the lesson behind them got skewed and the meaning changed. That was my deal breaker. For this post I am going to specifically talk about the slavery plot. Disclaimer, I am white, so interpret my opinions on this with that in mind. Spoilers ahead. Her inclusion of slavery in the plot was poorly done in my opinion, and turned almost into a slave-holder apology and victim blamer. (I could tell it was written by a white woman who does not have a full grasp of the severity of slavery). For context, she begins the plot by explaining that the human world and fae world had a war because the faeries abused their incredible power over humans and enslaved the human race. Somehow the humans were able to free themselves and make a treaty separating the worlds and banning the murder and enslavement of each other. Feyre’s hatred and fear of the faerie race is then justified and her lack of care for whether she kills one or not makes sense. Then, Feyre is brought to the faerie world by some miraculous fate where the avenger of her murder victim happens to feel bad for the wrongdoings of his race, which he was alive during the height of, and she learns that faeries are people too and she should feel bad for what she did. My issues: 1. We do not have a reason for Tamlin to side with the human race. He doesn’t explain some big revelation that made him realize what his family did is wrong, and the plot reveal that later explains he was forced to take her in order to break a curse makes it seem as though he would have killed her at the start if he had a choice. 2. Feyre hates the fairies because of their overwhelming power over the human race and their treatment of the human race as lesser than them, but this fact doesn’t become less true as she learns to not hate them. The faeries still very much want to and try to kill her for no reason, and Tamlin's court continuously looks down on her throughout the story. But Tamlin's power and violence towards her after the Great Rite (~pg 196) are meant to spur the sexual tension between them. If anything that scene proves her previous issues with the fae kind correct. 3. Just as Tamlin never proved that he actually sees the human race as equals, none of the other faeries do either. Without the high fae and the treaty, we are given no reason to believe that the majority of faeries would not take the humans as slaves again or simply kill them if given the choice (honestly even most of the high fae actively want to enslave/kill humans again). By making Feyre the one to have the revelation that she shouldn’t kill faeries, the author implies that slaves should be the ones to change their views on captors (victim blaming). It is a very strong “all lives matter” message that ignores the heart of the issue... the literal slavery.

4. This issue is only continued with the Amarantha plot. I have referenced a few times that Feyre proves Amarantha’s views on humans to be correct through her actions, but the fact that this plot is driven by the actions of a manipulative human during the war to free humans from enslavement comes off as a justification of the faeries inhumane treatment in the first place. Why write that the murderous slave-owning faerie has a just reason for her actions? That it is the human’s fault for taking advantage of her sister and then killing her mercilessly rather than the faeries’ lust for power and view of humanity as bugs to crush under their feet? She doesn’t actually care if a human can love a faerie, her trials don’t actually prove anything about Feyre’s love for Tamlin. She just wanted an excuse to torture Feyre for the actions of a single human whom she is already torturing for eternity. So, adding this plot makes it seem as though there is an excuse for slavery, albeit not a good one, and inadvertently teaches that the slaves are the ones who need to change their actions and views. So what was the author's goal in writing a plot involving slavery? It wasn’t a commentary on slavery or slave owners, it was a means to an end. She wanted a reason for faeries and humans to hate each other and thought slavery was the way to go. This detracts from the actual and real issue of slavery, which the effects of are still impacting life in the country that she is from. The real and justified anger of the generations freed from slavery is downplayed for the sake of a surface-level romance. Feyre’s anger at the entire race would not disappear after a few kind words and actions of one “good” faerie.

(As an aside, Rhys essentially takes Feyre as a slave for one week a month, and yet is portrayed as a potential love interest in the future and is meant to be one of the good guys. The author clearly sees this specific slave plot as a very sexual and arousing situation, when in reality it would be terrifying and disgusting for the main character.) TLDR: The slavery plot in ACOTAR shows the author's ignorance in serious racial issues.

[fanficimagery]

The Witch’s Companion

Imagine settling down in La Push and instantly hitting it off with a group of locals. You have an instant connection with Sam Uley and though you know exactly what the connection is, you find that you would rather have Sam tell you what it is. Only he has trouble finding a way and you find it rather amusing since you already know all about the supernatural realm. After all, you are a part of it.

Words: 6.3K Author’s Note: This is so bad, but I didn’t wanna trash it. I needed something to post. My apologies.

Since coming into your magic, you've always felt like something was missing. No matter how much you studied or how much progress you made in mastering your abilities, you always felt incomplete. You stayed home long enough to complete your high school education and then worked a few years to earn some cash before deciding to take a chance out in the real world on your own.

Fortunately for you, however, your family knew you'd be leaving the coven and they were more than prepared to send you on your way with funds they had saved up over the years themselves. It was a tearful goodbye, but as soon as you were on the road you felt it in every fiber of your being that you were making the right choice.

You drove for hours on end, not content enough to stop until the moon was high in the sky, and then found the least skeezy motel you could find to stay the night in. Then after paying for the night and putting a sigil of protection on your truck so no one could peek through the windows or break a window without setting off a blaring alarm, you showered and prepared for bed. But as you laid in bed, you tossed and turned as your brain wouldn't shut off. So instead of counting sheep, you got back up and dug out some of your supplies from the bag you kept close to you at all times.

As you sat on the floor with your legs crossed beneath you and a map spread out in front of you, you lit four white candles and placed one on each corner of the map. You took a white crystal on a chain and let it pool in your hand before closing your eyes, then holding the crystal against your chest. With nothing but good intentions and the hope of finding that missing part of you, you rubbed the crystal over your heart before grabbing the chain and letting the crystal hang over the map. And then with your eyes still closed, you twirled the crystal over the map before holding your hand still and letting spirits guide the crystal so you have an inkling of where to drive next.

Minutes passed and when you felt the chain still in your hand, you opened your eyes and found the tip of the crystal pointing towards the North-West portion of the map. So with somewhat of a destination in mind, you packed your belongings and was finally able to fall asleep.

Over the next few days you drove and drove, stopping for bathroom breaks, food and rest when necessary. When you hit the west coast and then started driving north, you were skeptical about where the crystal had really been pointing. But then you get to Forks, Washington and something just feels different. It doesn't feel right, but it's damn near close and you decide to drive around some more.

It isn't until you drive onto the reservation in La Push that it feels like you can properly breathe for the first time ever and you nearly cry tears of relief. But before you can start making plans of settling down, you know there are some things that must be addressed. Because growing up in a coven and learning of every supernatural creature you could, you know La Push is home to the legends of spirit warriors. And behind every legend is truth. So in order to be on good terms with the locals and the elders of the tribe, you know you must ask permission to stay on their lands.

The elders, surprisingly, needed no convincing. They were wary of a witch's presence at first, but after explaining everything to them they seemed to perk up with interest. More than a couple of the elders had twinkling eyes when you spoke of feeling as if a part of you was missing and that you only felt at complete ease once you crossed their borders. They even gave you a few suggestions on available houses in the area and you took your leave after asking them to keep your heritage a secret. You wanted to meet people on your own time and not have anyone seek you out because of what you could do. They completely understood and wished you well.

So a couple weeks later, here you are staring up at your very own two bedroom house. You had some cash put away for this exact occasion, but really it was the elders of La Push who were such a tremendous help in helping you purchase the place. The house itself was practically surrounded by trees and far enough away from any neighbors which granted you all the privacy you needed. So in other words, it was perfect.

You still need furniture and appliances to fill the house, so you've given yourself a time limit of about a week to get everything you need because that's as long as you're willing to stay in a small motel down in Forks. You've already ordered a basic refrigerator and stove, and they're to be delivered in a couple days time. You're still on the lookout for beds and couches, but nothing's caught your eye, so for now you've come to the house prepared with cleaning supplies.

The inside of the house is in pretty great condition, the only thing you really have to do is give it a good dusting, wipe down, and mopping. So after opening up all the windows, you walked around the house with a duster on an extendable arm made sure to dust every corner, nook and cranny of the room. You Windex every glass surface you can before sweeping the floors and then fill up a mop bucket to get started on the floors.

Afterwards, as the floors finish drying, you sit on the porch with a sandwich and Gatorade you had packed into a small ice chest. When you're a little more halfway through, two trucks rumble down the path to your house and you set aside your food in order to stand up and greet them.

Tribal Elder Harry Clearwater is easily recognizable, as is his beautiful wife Sue who is sitting in the passenger seat across from him. The two boys in the truck behind them, however, are new.

Stepping off the porch and meeting your guests halfway, you greet them all with a smile. Sue is the only one to receive a hug whereas Harry offers a handshake. "Hello, Harry. What brings you down here?"

The older man chuckles. "Just wanted to see how you were settling in and introduce you to a few of the young ones."

You finally meet the gazes of the boys behind Harry, taking note of the tribal tattoos on their upper biceps that they're showing off thanks to their sleeveless shirts. Both are wearing cargo shirts and have bare feet which you hardly bat an eye at. "Hello." You wave at them, smiling softly.

"Hey," the slightly shorter of the two smirks, leaning forward and offering his hand, "I'm Paul."

As you grasp his hand, his warmth sends shivers down your spine. "Y/N. It's nice to meet you."

Paul shakes your hand a little longer than normal and you find yourself fighting back a laugh. "Paul, would you let her go? She's clearly not interested." His friend clamps a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back briefly before thrusting his own hand forward. "I'm Jared."

"Hi."

After greeting the two boys, you give a very amused Harry and Sue your attention once more. "So thanks for checking in. I'm just cleaning out the house right now. Getting it ready for deliveries."

"Oh?" Sue perks up. "What did you find?"

"Just a refrigerator and stove for now," you say with a small shrug and sheepish laugh. "I rather have the cabinets and refrigerator stocked with food rather than worry about comfortable bedding. If push comes to shove, I'll happily camp out on an air mattress while I find a decent bed."

Harry chuckles. "I figured you'd be having trouble finding some decent furniture, so I went ahead and went through our storage. Come on," he gestures for you to follow. "Come take a look."

"What?" You stare, wide-eyed, and Sue chuckles before nudging you to follow. You do, with the boys chuckling at your surprise, and you find a wooden bed frame laying in the bed of Harry's truck.

"It's a bit old," Harry then admits, "but it's still very sturdy. It was wasting away in our storage, so I figured it could go to a good home."

"Are- are you sure?"

"Of course," Sue assures you. "We also have a couch and a recliner if you're interested. They're still in really good condition."

"Well yeah! If you say it's in good condition and are willing to get rid of them, I'll happily take them off your hands."

"Excellent. Boys!" Harry catches Jared and Paul's attention. "Go back to my house and have Leah show you to the storage. She'll know what couch and recliner we want to get rid of."

"You got it, Harry."

Jared nods at Harry to let him know he's on it and Paul spares you one last lingering leer which prompts you to laugh and shake your head at him. Then turning to Sue, you ask, "So what do I owe you?"

But Sue is quick to wave you off. "Don't worry about it. Consider this as our house warming present. And," she's quick to cut you off when you open your mouth to retort, "if you feel like you owe us something, then all I ask is that you stop by the health clinic once you're truly settled in. You have a very healing nature about you and I'm sure you'd be a great help to our little community."

Catching her drift, you can't help but chuckle. "Sure thing, Sue."

With nothing else to be said, Harry and Sue help you unload the bed frame and carry it into your house and into the appropriate room. Fortunately Harry has a bag of tools in his truck and instructs you what screws go where since you were more capable of getting down on the floor than he was. Paul and Jared get back right before you finish putting together the frame, so Sue walks out to go instruct them to bring the furniture in.

Afterwards, as you and Harry join everyone in the living room, you smile kindly around at the occupants. "Boys, thanks for bringing the heavy stuff in."

"Don't even worry about it," Jared says. "If Sue and Harry are already this attached, I have a feeling you're good people."

Before Paul can comment, there's a bone chilling howl ripping through the air. It's not too close to the house, but it doesn't stop the boys from awkwardly chuckling afterwards and assuring you the wolves around the reservation are completely harmless. You keep a faint smile in place, nodding along, and force down your amusement at their hasty retreat.

Turning to Sue and Harry, you laugh. "They don't have a subtle bone in their body."

"No they do not," she muses.

A comfortable silence follows the three of you out onto the porch, watching as Paul and Jared drive away in a hurry. Seconds pass before Harry makes it clear they should get going too.

As you follow them to their truck, you say, "Thanks again for the furniture. If I head out now I can probably find a box spring and mattress, and actually sleep in my own house tonight."

Sue smiles. "I'm glad we could be of some help. If you need anything," she then reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small white card, "here's my number. Don't hesitate to call."

You take the card and glance at the number before pocketing it. "I won't. Thank you."

The married couple climb into the truck and as soon as they're settled and the engine rumbles to life, Harry leans out his window. "Don't take too long to let the boys in on your secret. I have a feeling you'll be seeing them more often than not now that two of them know where you live."

"How many are there?"

"Three as of right now," Harry says, "but we're keeping an eye on a few others."

"This pack keeps growing and the vampires will be too scared to step anywhere near La Push."

Harry chuckles. "That's fine by me."

With nothing else to be said and the Clearwater's wanting you to get everything you need before the stores shut down, they bid you farewell and take their leave. Then after making sure you shut all the windows to your house and lock up, you hop in your truck and drive to the city in hopes of getting a box spring and mattress to fit your new bed.

Over the next few days, you get settled in and you've never felt more at peace. Even your magic seems to meshing better than ever within you and your coven back home couldn't have been more happier for you.

You've kept your promise to Sue, mixing concoctions that were easily added into lotions for aching joints and grinding powered mixtures that could be added to water that acted as a mild pain reliever. The reservation's clinic was mostly used by the elderly and you were glad you could offer them relief for their aching bones.

You've also run into Paul and Jared a handful of times, mostly at the grocery store and once when you had gone to the beach for the day. They had been leaving when you were just getting there and Paul had introduced you to his new girlfriend, but the way he couldn't take his eyes off her let you know it was something so much more. Jared kept trying to introduce you to his other friend, but apparently you and this so-called Sam just kept missing each other.

And it isn't until one drizzly day that you finally meet him.

You sleep in a little later than usual, the overcast sky and drizzling rain keeping you in a sleepy state. Then when you feel like you've laid in long enough, you get up and take the warmest shower you can before dressing cozy and curling up on your couch. Nothing on TV seems to catch your attention, so you turn it off and head into your kitchen. You're not particularly hungry, but you find yourself wanting to make something. So opening up your pantry, you find that you have all the ingredients you need to bake to your heart's content.

With your hair twisted up into a bun and the sleeves of your sweater pushed up to your elbows, you're mixing together the second batch of muffins as the first batch cools next to a peach cobbler. You've been in the baking zone, listening to the distant rumbling thunder, that when there's knocking on your front door it startles you into letting loose a yelp.

There's a bark of laughter before you hear the door creaking open and Paul and Jared walk in, both shirtless and in cut-off jean shorts. A third walks in behind them, this one unfamiliar, but you keep your attention on the two you do know.

Huffing, you set aside the bowl and pick up a washcloth to clean off your hands as you walk around the kitchen counter. "If you catch a cold, I am not helping you. Only idiots would run around barefoot in this type of weather we're having right now."

"Oooh, those muffins free game?" Jared asks, completely ignoring your words and walking around you. "I'm starving."

"Do I smell peach cobbler?" Paul then wonders, doing the same as his friend.

"Hey!" The third individual barks, Paul and Jared freezing at his tone. "Manners."

You smirk as the boys shift nervously and then look towards the still unknown man. "Thank you. You, my well mannered friend, are more than welcome to the snacks. I'm Y/N, by the way."

As he meets your gaze, his small smile falters. His eyes seem to subtly widen, his expression goes lax, and there's an instant connection with this man- a sense of warmth and comfort rushing through you. He feels like.. like home.

You blink and then.. oh. You know exactly what this is and while a little part of you is nervous because you hadn't planned to tell anyone other than the tribal elders what you were, you're also kind of excited.

"Sam?" Paul wonders, he and Jared snickering.

The second you break eye contact with him, he seems to come back to himself. Clearing his throat, he nods at you. "Sam. I'm Sam Uley." He then glares at the boys before sheepishly glancing at you once more.

You flash him a small smile. "Nice to finally meet you Sam Uley. Jared doesn't shut up about you."

"Hey!" The muffled response causes you to look at the boy in question and you roll your eyes fondly when you see his cheeks puffed out with the remains of a muffin he'd eaten when you weren't paying attention.

"So what brings you boys over here?" You ask as you walk back into the kitchen, whipping Jared with a small towel and shooing him towards the table.

"Just wanted to see how you were dealing with our weather," Paul says. "Now can I please have some of this cobbler? It smells really good."

"Have you eaten lunch yet? All that sweet is going to ruin your appetite."

Jared snorts as he takes a seat at the table. "Nothing can ruin our appetites. Trust me."

Paul is still eyeing the cobbler so you sigh and wave him on. "Go ahead. I'm sure you can find the plates and utensils." Then looking towards Sam, you smile. "Would you like to take a seat? There are brown sugar muffins, chocolate chip muffins and peach cobbler if you're interested."

"I, uh, yeah." He grins at you. "I'd like that."

Sam, Paul and Jared take over your kitchen table and instead of being annoyed you can't help but feel a bit of fondness for them. You're well aware of what the connection you had with Sam was and you wonder how long it'll take him to come clean to you since it's obvious all three at your table are shifters- Sam obviously being the alpha.

But putting that off for now, you walk into your kitchen and place some muffins in a bowl to take to the table. Jared is all too happy to immediately start digging in and Paul looks absolutely blissed out as he shovels bite after bite of peach cobbler into his mouth. Sam shakes his head at the two of them, but you find it all rather amusing.

Taking a muffin for himself and eating at a leisurely pace, Sam asks, "So how do you know the boys?"

"Sue and Harry introduced us when they brought over my bed," you tell him. Grabbing a few bottled waters from the refrigerator, you walk them over to the table and take a seat yourself. "Between you and me, I think the only reason Harry introduced us was because I'm a female living by myself. He wants me to have people in my corner should something ever happen."

Sam glances between you and the boys, and seeing as you're not offended he allows himself to chuckle. "Yeah. That sounds like Harry. He's good people."

"Oh for sure," you muse. "I kind of have this sense about people. I can tell who's a good and who's a bad one."

"Oh really?" Paul looks up long enough to spot the waters and take one for himself. "What do you sense about us?"

Jared freezes, Sam tenses and Paul smirks as he takes a gulp of his water. You lean back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, and smirk. "Honestly? I get a sense you and Jared are going to be giant pains in my ass."

Jared laughs, but Paul continues to smugly hold your gaze. "And what about Sam?"

Your gaze slides over to Sam who looks equal parts ready to strangle Paul and wondering what your answer is going to be. Eyes twinkling, you say, "That's to be determined."

Now that you'd officially met Sam and he imprinted on you- though you weren't supposed to know that- it seemed like he was everywhere. You run into him at the grocery store, at the local health clinic, and at the beach. And then sometimes all three of them would show up on your porch to check up on you, but mostly to raid your kitchen.

Usually when you run into them you run into all three, so as you're sitting on the beach and just soaking in the peace, you're surprised to see Sam approaching all on his lonesome.

"This seat taken?" He asks, gesturing to the empty half of the blanket you're sitting on.

You grin up at him. "Do my eyes deceive me or are you actually wearing long sleeves and jeans?"

"Ha ha," he deadpans. Toeing off his boots, Sam steps onto your blanket and sits next to you. He grins at you before looking out to the restless ocean. "So what brings you out here on this cool afternoon?"

You shrug. "Nothing really. Just felt like listening to the waves. You?"

"Same. Had some free time so I figured I'd come out here to decompress. Spotting you was just a bonus."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Uley."

Sam chuckles as he softly nudges you with his shoulder. You smile back at him, only to then look back out at the ocean. There's a moment where you and Sam just bask in the stillness of conversation before he's nudging you once more. "So tell me something, Y/N. What brought you out here to La Push?"

"I don't know if I want to tell you," you jokingly admit. "You'll think it's lame."

"No I won't. Come on, tell me."

Glancing at Sam you know you're in trouble at the sight of his small smile and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. You keep his gaze, sigh with a fond roll of your eyes, and he chuckles knowing full well you've caved. "Have you ever felt like you didn't belong? That something was missing from your life and, even though you had a pretty good life, you knew there was something out in the world you were destined to find?"

"Not until recently," he replies quietly.

Sam's gaze darts all over your face before darting down to your lips and your heart skips a beat. "I, uh," you pause and awkwardly clear your throat, leaning sideways away from Sam for a moment to clear your head. "I didn't feel complete for a long time," you say. "So after finishing high school and working a few years to save up some cash, I packed all the things I couldn't live without and hopped into my truck. I drove in whatever direction felt right to me and it wasn't until I crossed into La Push territory that it felt like I could breathe properly. It was weird." Well not really now that you know why you were drawn to La Push, but you couldn't exactly tell him that. Not yet.

"That's not lame at all. That's- well I can kind of relate," he says. When you glance at Sam, his faint grin morphs into a smirk. "I'm glad you found what you were looking for here in La Push, Y/N. It seems everyone here has taken a shine to you."

"What can I say," you muse, batting your eyelashes at him, "I'm a very likable person." Sam's phone dings before he can retort and he offers you a sheepish smile as he pulls it out of his pocket. He reads whatever's on his screen and sighs, looking at you with an apology in his eyes. "Go. It's fine. We can always catch up another time. You do, after all, know where I live."

Sam nods and pulls his boots to himself, slipping them on his feet and lacing up. "Do you, uh, maybe want to grab something to eat sometime?"

His stammering and avoidance of your gaze makes you smile. You hum, drawing out your answer before saying, "Like one on one or a group thing?"

He shrugs. "More like a date thing."

"Sam Uley," you chuckle. "Asking me on a date and breaking hearts all across the Rez. Who would've guessed.." When he's finally brave enough to meet your gaze, you smile. "It's a date, Sam. Just let me know when and where."

A date with Sam consisted of dinner at an Italian restaurant in Port Angeles. You had figured it'd be as awkward as first dates normally were, but from the moment he picked you up to the moment he dropped you off at your front porch and warmly pressed a kiss to your cheek, it was as if you and Sam had been doing this for ages. The conversation had flowed easily with quiet laughter here and there, and then you went for a walk around Port Angeles before deciding to call it a night.

The boys, when they took notice of you greeting Sam with a kiss to the cheek, took great pleasure in teasing the two of you. You could tell Sam was wary about it upsetting you, but you merely withheld food from the boys and they were quick to cut it out.

Sam slowly started to show up more often on his own, the casual touches turning into lingering touches, and it wasn't long until those on the Rez realized Sam was no longer on the market. Which was something Sue Clearwater was clearly ecstatic for, but it also led her to constantly nag you into telling Sam your secret since he was clearly struggling with admitting his own.

You've just gotten home from the grocery store, unloading the groceries when Sam pulls up.

Pausing in hauling the bags inside, you wait for Sam. He hops out of his own truck, grinning when he catches sight of you. "Hey, handsome. What are you doing?"

"Missed you." He leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth and you pout when he pulls away. He chuckles and takes the bags from your arms, grabbing another three from the backseat. "You have a good day?"

"It was decent." You shut the door to your truck, walking side by side with Sam up to your front door. Unlocking it, you push it open and let Sam walk in first. "I visited with Sue for a bit at the clinic and took the patients some goodies. What about you?"

"Decent. Got started on a table and chairs this couple want for their kitchen. Made good progress on it without Jared bugging me and Paul."

You laugh at the slight annoyance in Sam's features when he talks about Jared bugging him, but you know deep down that Sam would do anything for both Jared and Paul. He was just lucky right now since Jared was in his last year of high school and he had school five days out of the week which left Sam and Paul enough time to work without being pestered.

With Sam helping you, all the groceries are put away within a couple of minutes. You sigh with exhaustion, but a smile stays on your face because of the company you have. Sam walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you in against his chest. You sigh again, this time in contentment, and wrap your arms around his waist.

"Wanna take a nap?"

"Oh god," you groan. "Yes please."

Sam chuckles as you drag him to the living room, the sofa big enough to comfortably nap on. You both kick your shoes off and you impatiently wait for Sam to lay down and get comfortable before you lay down in front of him. With your back against his chest and his arm wrapped securely around your waist so you don't fall off, you close your eyes and listen to Sam's breathing to lull you to sleep.

Minutes pass and then, "Y/N?"

"Hmm?"

"I, uh, I need to tell you something."

Your eyes fly open. Is this it? Is this when he tells me he's a shifter? "Okay.."

"But I can't tell you until after the bonfire which I'm hoping you'll attend with me tonight."

Oh. "A bonfire sounds nice," you admit. "But whatever you have to tell me isn't bad, is it? Because now I'm going to be worried about it for the rest of the day."

Sam's laughter rumbles from behind you. "Nah. You have nothing to worry about. Get some rest, sweetheart. We deserve it."

          - - - - - - - - - - 

You and Sam fall asleep longer than you had anticipated, and it takes Paul barging into your house and startling you awake to realize how much time has passed. You remain grumpy and half asleep the entire time Sam tells you about the appropriate clothing for the beach bonfire, which Paul finds absolutely hilarious, and he only shut ups about it when you threaten to make him walk back to the beach since he had apparently walked to your house.

When you get to the beach, Sam takes your hand in his and you smile at him before he leads you to where there's already a roaring fire dancing under the night sky. There's a small group gathered around, but the ones who stick out to you the most are the tribal elders who appear as if they're holding court. Sam sits you on a log close to the fire before asking if you want anything and at your furrowed brow he gestures to the table of food that's dwindling down by the minute.

As you tell Sam you only want a hot drink, he leaves you be and you watch as everyone mingles. From across the fire Harry gives you a nod in greeting and you nod back. Your eyes are drawn to Paul who is wrapped around his girlfriend and you can't help but smile at how smitten he is with her. Jared is tossing chips at some young boy, the two of them running around as another unknown female watches them with fond exasperation.

All too soon Sam is taking a seat next to you, thigh to thigh, as his left arm goes around your shoulders after handing you a steaming cup of hot chocolate. You smile at him before snuggling into his warmth and blowing on your drink. Then when everyone settles down and Harry starts talking, you realize he's telling the legends about the Quileute Spirit Warriors.

You've heard the legends about the spirit warriors and cold ones, but never in such great detail and you're absolutely enthralled.

Afterwards, after being introduced to several more people and Sam dropping you back off at home, he walks you up to the porch. His hands are tucked deep into his pockets and he sighs, and you can just tell something is on his mind.

Grinning, you grab him by his belt loops and pull him closer to you. "What's wrong? I could hear you thinking on the drive here."

"Nothing." He automatically shakes his head. You raise an eyebrow at him and he exhales quietly. "I just- I'm curious as to what you thought about the bonfire. Only certain people have the special privilege of attending and I-"

"I loved it." You're quick to assure him. 'And I'm honored I was able to sit in."

"You didn't think it was odd? People turning into giant wolves and cold ones draining people."

You shake your head, smiling fondly. "Sam, I love learning about other cultures and their legends. Honestly, I had an amazing time." His shoulders sag in relief and you chuckle. "So do you want to tell me what else is on your mind?"

He shakes his head. "Maybe another time." His hands reach up to cradle your face and he brings you in to press a kiss to your forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

As the weeks pass, your happiness with Sam starts to dwindle under the pressure of his secret. For some reason, coming out and telling you all that you heard at the bonfire was true was harder than he had imagined. Of course you could have told him your secret to ease him into telling you his, but you were holding back as well.

Sue and Harry have had enough, however, after Sam snaps at Paul and Jared and starts straining the bond between the three of them. So sitting outside of your house, you wait for Sam to show up. If he won't tell you he's alpha of the Quileute pack, then you'll tell him your own secret and see what happens then.

Sam shows up on time and as he exits his truck, you stand up and walk towards the edge of the porch. He smiles in greeting, but you can see the strain behind it and you sigh. Immediately you wrap your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his chest.

"Come inside with me. I need to show you something."

"Uh oh. Should I be worried?" He says.

"Not at all." You pull back from him, pecking his lips. "But I am worried about how you're going to take it."

Sam's small smile falters, but you don't have any reassuring words for him. Now that it's out in the open about you having a secret too, you can see why Sam held back. It's scary. But it's out there now and there's no way in hell you're going to back out. So grabbing hold of one of Sam's hands, you turn around to lead him inside.

You lead Sam into your bedroom and gesture for him to take a seat on one side of your bed while you sit across from him. With one leg hanging off the side of the bed and your other curled inward, you grab one of your pillows and strip the cover off of it. "Can you rip it open?"

Sam huffs. "What? You want me to rip apart your pillow?"

"Yeah. I just- the feathers," you mutter. "Trust me." He stares at you a moment longer before grabbing your pillow and ripping the top sheet layer of it. You grin and reach in, scooping out a handful of the white and gray feathers. "So, um, please don't hate me."

"Hate you? I can never hate you, Y/N."

"You say that now, but-" Heart pounding, you lay the feathers down down on the bed right in front of your leg. Your hands tremble, but you're quick to shake it out and take a breath. Your smile wobbles as you briefly meet Sam's gaze and then you hold your hands just above the feathers. Concentrating deeply on them, you slowly lift your hands and the feathers slowly follow. You hear Sam sharply inhale as the feathers levitate and then start to twirl in a circular motion. "So, um, I'm a witch," you admit. "And to make things easier for you, I already know the secret you've been struggling to tell me."

"H-How?"

Your hands drop and you finally meet Sam's astonished gaze. "My coven's grimoire. It's filled with all sorts of knowledge of every supernatural creature out there and, though the passage on the spirit warriors of the Quileute tribe wasn't as detailed as what Harry said around the bonfire, it was enough to clue me in on what you, Paul, and Jared were the second I laid eyes on you. Well that and the fact the tribal elders told me when I asked their permission to live on the Rez."

Sam huffs and then does the unexpected. He reaches across your gutted pillow and tugs on your arm until you're crawling over and onto his lap. He holds you tight, chuckling quietly, and shoves his face into the side of your neck. You hesitantly wrap your arms back around him, sighing in relief. "You really should have told me sooner. It's been killing me not telling you about us."

"Yeah, well it's going to get a whole lot easier." He pulls back then, staring at you warily. "I know about the imprint thing too."

Sam's eyes widen. "You do?"

"Yep. Witches don't necessarily have mates, but we do have a sense of things. Since I came into my magic, there had always been a part of me that was searching for something."

"Yeah. Yeah I remember you mentioning that," Sam says.

"Well that something was you." The confession makes you nervously shift in his lap. "Whatever it was, it led me here to La Push. And then I saw you and.. I don't know. You felt like comfort. And home. And I knew-"

Sam cuts you off, grasping your chin between his fingers and facing you towards him. His lips press against yours and it takes a moment for your mind to be brought up to speed as to what's going on. When it does, you gasp and Sam smiles against your lips.

"Don't laugh at me," you mumble. "You caught me off guard."

Sam chuckles, his smile wide and eyes crinkling at the corners. It's one of his more genuine smiles and it feels like this huge weight has been lifted off your chest. "So the alpha and his witch," he muses. "The boys are going to be in for a shock."

"I was thinking more along the lines of the witch and her companion, but the alpha and the witch works too." You lean in and press your lips to his, once, twice, and then one more time. "And can we hold off on telling the boys? I kind of want to shock them with the reveal."

"Sure thing, sweetheart. We'll go at your pace."

"My pace, huh? I like the sound of that."

[wishuhadstayed]

It Takes a Village

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word Count: about 3000

Summary: when the Hotchner fam is in need, it’s a good thing to have many helping hands. Part 9 to Begin Again.

Warnings: mentions of blood and pregnancy complications

Author’s Note: I really am sorry for that cliffhanger y’all. 😬 I’m just glad you still love me after being gone for like, a literal year. Shoutout to @agent-laufeyson you’re the best 💜 (PS, please ignore Haley in the below gif, also please picture Hotch in the hospital in casual clothes.) 😌

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

For a moment, Aaron’s whole world stopped turning. A cold, familiar sense of dread settled into his chest at the words, “You all may want to sit down for this.”

“Not again,” he thought. “I can’t do this again, we can’t do this again.”

“God please,” he begged internally, slumping into a chair, “if you’re listening, please don’t take her. We need her.”

Suddenly, the voice of a surgeon cut through the silent room like a knife.

“Sir, your wife lost a significant amount of blood. We had no choice but to perform an emergency c-section. Although your daughter is slightly pre-term, she seems to be in good health. However, we would like to keep her a while for monitoring.”

“And my wife?” He inquires, voice trembling with fear.

“It was touch and go there for a while, but we were able to locate the source of bleeding and get it under control. Your wife is out of surgery. She’s stable, but she is very weak and currently asleep. She will also be hospitalized for recovery. At least a week most likely, maybe longer.”

“Mama’s gonna be okay?” Jack pipes up.

“Yes, she is buddy,” Aaron replies, ruffling his hair. “Thanks to that doctor.”

“Thanks for making my mama feel better.”

“You’re most welcome,” the surgeon replied. “You and your dad can go visit her now. The rest of you will have to wait. She needs her rest. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you doctor,” Aaron says, shaking his hand with a sigh of relief.

“You go Aaron,” Rossi encourages, clapping him on the shoulders before he even had a chance to turn around. “Go see your wife and baby. We’ll wait.”

——————————————————————————

Entering your hospital room, Aaron thought your sleeping face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Sitting on the side of your hospital bed, he grabbed hand as you stirred awake.

“Hello Angel,” he murmurs as you take everything in. “You gave us quite a scare,” he mentions, softly caressing your face.

“The baby,” you whisper, touching his hand.

“Ssssshhhh,” he soothes. “The baby is fine. She’s in the nursery. You just rest okay?”

Instant relief washes over your face. “Jack?”

“I’m right here mama!” he exclaims, scrambling into Aaron’s lap.

“I want to see the baby,” you tell Aaron.

“I know darling, but you really need your rest.”

“I NEED to see her, Aaron.” You plead.

Taking the hint, he begins to rise. “Jack why don’t you stay with mama, while I go talk to the nurse, okay?”

“Okay Daddy,” he agrees, climbing in the bed next to you.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better mama,” Jack says, looking up at you with the sweetest face.

“Me too, baby,” you reply. “Are you ready to meet your sister?”

“Yeah!” he exclaims with a look of excitement. “Can I hold her?”

“Of course you can buddy, as long as you’re careful,” Aaron replies as he re-enters the room. “The nurses are bringing her down.”

A few minutes later a nurse arrives holding a tiny pink blanket. “Who wants to hold her first?” She inquires.

“You should hold her first, Aaron,” you suggest.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he insists. “You’ve been the strongest, bravest mom I know already. You should hold her first.”

As the nurse places the tiny, squirming bundle with her father’s dark hair in your arms, all the stress and chaos of the day seems to just melt away.

As you free a tiny hand from the swaddle so she can grasp your finger, her eyes flutter open.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” you wonder aloud.

“Absolutely lovely,” Aaron muses, draping his arm around your shoulders. “Just like her mother.”

——————————————————————————

Meanwhile, cooped up in the waiting area, the BAU team began to grow restless.

“Maybe we should get out of the hospital and go shopping while we wait,” Garcia suggests. “I think Y/N deserves all the gifts and pretty things today.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” JJ questions.

“TARGET RUN!” all three women exclaim in unison.

They all wandered the aisles like kids in a candy store.

“I’m getting her balloons,” Penelope says. “Like so many pink balloons. Nobody can feel bad with that many balloons.”

“Flowers,” Rossi chimes in. “We should get her plenty of flowers to make the room cheerful.”

“We’ll have to get those from hospital gift shop,” JJ comments.

“I’d want chocolate,” Emily suggests. “Chocolate helps everything.”

“Look,” Morgan says, showing a pink stuffed bunny to Garcia. “It’s cute right? For the baby?”

“It’s perfect, Derek,” she assures, grabbing his hand. “Very cute.”

“Oh, a memory book,” Reid mentions. “So they can write down details every day.”

“Leave it to the genius to pick out a book,” Morgan jokes with a playful shove.

“Settle down, boys.” JJ cuts in. “As much as I’m sure she’ll appreciate the pretty gifts, she did just have a baby,” she reminds the group. “She needs some practical things too, trust me.” As she picks out a blanket and a pacifier, Henry begins to grow restless. As she picked up a snack for him, another idea crossed her mind.

“We should get something for Jack, too,” she thought aloud. “LEGOs. He loves LEGOs. And some gummy bears.”

A sudden ringing startles everyone.

“Ssssshhhhhhh,” Garcia commands as she puts the phone on speaker. “It’s Y/N! Quiet!”

“Hello my angel dear,” she lilts, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m very tired, but otherwise happy and healthy,” you report. “Is everyone with you?”

“We’re all here,” JJ chimes in.

“Hi everyone!” You reply. “In that case, I have news. The nurses have said that we’re allowed to have visitors first thing in the morning, if you’d like to see our newest addition.”

“Oh, wild horses could not keep us away, ma’am.” Penelope assures. “We’ll see you all bright and early.”

“Not too early, Penny,” you remind her. “You gotta give me a chance to wake up first.”

“Right, sooooo 10am then?”

“It’s a date.”

——————————————————————————

That evening, you soaked up as much family time as possible before the wave of visitors began. Aaron was a natural, as you’d known he would be from seeing him with Jack.

Watching him with the baby was quickly becoming your favorite pastime. The look of sheer enchantment on his face as he held her close and rocked her made you fall a little more in love with him every moment.

“Daddy loves you so much,” he coos to the tiny bundle in his arms.

“What?” he questions as he catches you watching.

“Oh nothing,” you reply, ruffling Jack’s hair as he slept by your side. “Just wondering how I got so lucky.”

“I think it’s me who got lucky. I thought I’d never love again. I was so closed off. I was prepared to spend the rest of my life as a single dad, doing everything on my own. Now,” he chokes out, “now I’d fall apart without you.”

“Good thing you’ve got two of us now to keep you boys in line then,” you return with a wicked grin. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger already.”

——————————————————————————

When you awoke the next morning, you were greeted by the most beautiful sight. Aaron still asleep in the recliner next your bed, his arm cradling the sleeping baby on his chest. While you hated to disturb the peaceful scene, you knew the team would be arriving as soon as the clock struck 10.

“Aaron,” you whisper. “Aaron, wake up,” slightly louder this time. He stirs awake, moving slowly so as not to wake the sleeping child.

“What is it babe?”

“The team will be here soon,” you inform him.

“Ah. I should go get ready,” he replies.

“Mama, can I hold her while dad gets ready?” Jack asks, startling the both of you.

“Oh buddy, I didn’t realize you were awake,” you say to him. “Of course you can hold her if you want.”

Jack scrambled into your lap as Aaron rounded the bed.

“Just be really careful with her bud,” Aaron reminds him as he settles the baby on his lap.

“I will dad,” he replies.

As Aaron walked away, the baby’s eyes fluttered open and she let out a small cry.

“Here, why don’t you give her a pacifier?” you suggest.

“Sssshhhh, don’t cry,” he says, giving her the pacifier, and then softly stroking her head.

“What do you think about your baby sister, Jack?”

“She’s pretty, Mama, just like you.”

“Thank you baby,” you reply. “That’s very sweet. I love you.”

“I love you too, mama.”

“And I love you all,” Aaron adds.

——————————————————————————

A short while later, a knock at the door alerts you that your visitors have arrived.

“You ready for this?” Aaron asks as he walks to the door.

“I’ve never been more ready. I just know they’re gonna be so in love with her.”

Aaron opens the door and the team flows in with their myriad of gifts.

Penelope hands off her bouquet of balloons to Derek and rushes over to hug you.

“Oh Y/N,” she gushes, cupping your face. “You look beautiful. It’s so good to see you, we were all worried sick.”

“Thank you Penny,” you reply, eyeing the room. “I’m assuming the shopping spree was your idea.”

“Oh shush woman,” she scolds. “You deserve it. We wanted your room to cozy and pretty because we heard you’re going to be here for a while. Sue us.”

“Thank you all for the gifts, you really didn’t have to do any of that,” you reply, tearing up as you address the whole room. “Just being there for us when we needed you the most was all we could ask for and you’ve gone above and beyond.”

“This is the least we could do, really,” JJ assures, softly rubbing your hand.

“Oh fine, be modest if you insist,” you reply with an eye roll. “I’d open all the gifts now, but I imagine you’re all much more interested in our slightly earlier than anticipated arrival.”

Seemingly for the first time since they came in, everyone notices Aaron’s presence and the little pink bundle in his arms.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” you continue, “the announcement you’ve all been waiting for. Introducing Miss Savannah Rose.”

“What a lovely name,” Emily chimes in.

“Thank you,” Aaron cuts in. “We would have told you all sooner but we actually just decided on it while we were here,” he says beaming down at his perfectly content infant daughter. “You can all hold her if you like.”

“I’m sure we’d all love to,” JJ replies, “but i think we should leave that you for now. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to spoil her rotten just as soon as she gets home.”

“Right! We just wanted to check on everyone and make sure you have everything you need,” Garcia adds.

“Well thanks to you guys, I think our hospital room is pretty well stocked. I just wish I could say the same for the nursery,” you say with a shrug.

“What’s wrong with the nursery?” Rossi inquires.

“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Aaron admits. “Between me traveling so much for work and Y/N being pregnant and taking care of Jack, it got pushed to the wayside. I thought we had a bit more time.”

“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you it’s not your fault?” you soothe, reaching for his hand. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“I know, I just wanted everything to be perfect for you.”

“It already is dear,” you assure him with a smile. “Why don’t you go get some coffee, you look exhausted.”

“Good idea babe,” he says, settling the baby into your arms.

“I could use a cup myself,” Morgan adds.

——————————————————————————

“Derek, I need your help,” Aaron pleads, once out of earshot of the room.

“Of course man, anything you need.”

“We’re going to be in the hospital for about a week while Y/N recovers and I’m desperate to have a nice nursery for her when we get home, but I obviously can’t leave her alone. I know it’s a lot to ask, but is there anything you could do to help?”

“Sure thing man, don’t worry about it. That’s the best gift I could hope to give you.”

“You’re the best,” Aaron replies, slapping him on the shoulder. “Just don’t let Y/N find out, okay? I want it to be a surprise.”

“My lips are sealed,” Derek promises.

——————————————————————————

That afternoon Derek had the whole team assembled in the nursery to get started.

“Alright everyone,” he begins, “We’ve got one week to make this the best surprise gift possible. Let’s make it happen.”

“What color should we paint it?” Penelope inquires.

“Got that covered already,” Derek replies while opening a paint can. “Purple. Hotch said it’s Y/N’s favorite color.”

“Oh Derek, it’s perfect!” she squealed, squeezing him tight. “She’s gonna adore it.”

“While the two of us are painting,” Penny addresses the group, “why don’t the rest of you do some some shopping?”

“Great idea, baby girl.” Morgan chimes in. “I think they’ve got the basics from the baby shower and I saw a crib and changing table in the garage, but I’m sure you guys can find things they’re missing.”

“Oh I think we’ve got this,” JJ states confidently. “Let’s get this show on the road,” she commands, herding Emily, Rossi, and Reid out the door.

When the group arrived back at the Hotchner house several hours later, the nursery walls were covered in a soft shade of lavender; as were Morgan and Garcia.

“I don’t know how you two managed to get any paint on the walls,” JJ said with a grin.

“Smile for the camera, you two,” Emily cuts in, snapping a picture on her phone as the couple hug and smile in their paint splattered clothes.

——————————————————————————

The next day conversation flowed as team was busily assembling furniture. Rossi, Reid, and Morgan worked on the crib while Penny, Emily, and JJ tackled the changing table.

“Let me know if you ladies need any help,” Morgan mentions casually.

“Oh right,” Emily grumbles, “because OBVIOUSLY the women need a big, strong man’s help, right?”

“I didn’t say that,” Derek counters. “I was just offering.”

“Oh not only will we get ours done without your help, we’ll get it done faster,” Emily challenges.

“Oh yeah?”

“YEAH!” all three women reply in unison.

“You’re on,” Morgan accepts.

“Oh you’re so going down,” Penny taunts, throwing pieces of plastic wrapping at Derek.

“Losers buy sushi for lunch?” Rossi suggests.

“Oh that could be pretty expensive for you Dave,” JJ comments. “You sure you’re up for that?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Rossi says, rolling his eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

Two hours later, as JJ and Emily were finishing up the crib, the men came dragging in, arms full of takeout bags.

“Say cheese!” Penelope squeals as she takes their picture. “For the bragging rights.”

——————————————————————————

The next days were spent putting the finishing touches on the room.

A purple gradient butterfly mobile above the crib from JJ.

A bookshelf with a fully stocked library, specially selected by Reid. Emily places her floral covered photo album on top.

Lavender curtains with a shimmery overlay, Penelope’s contribution.

Derek’s stuffed bunny, carefully laid in a white gliding chair with purple cushions, which was generously paid for by Dave.

Derek lays a soft shag rug over the hardwood floor and drapes a plush floral blanket over the edge of the crib.

“I think that about does it, guys,” he says with a look of pride.

“You know, I bought them that photo album,” Emily comments, “it would be a shame if we didn’t put a few in there as a gift.”

“Yeah, but how do we get a picture of the whole group?” JJ wonders out loud.

“We could set a timer,” Penelope suggests.

“Yeah, but who sets the timer?” Reid asks, as he turns to see the whole group looking at him.

“Seriously guys?”

Between the camera falling over, closed eyes, and Spence not making it back before the timer, it took a few tries before there was a good group shot.

“And now a funny one,” Penny insists.

Once the photos, including the bloopers, have been printed and arranged in the album, JJ makes sure to write descriptions for each in the margins before setting it back on the shelf.

“Good job team,” Derek announces. “Our work here is done.”

——————————————————————————

After all the chaos surrounding the birth and a full week in the hospital, nothing felt better than standing at the door of your house with the love of your life and your two beautiful children.

“You ready to finally get some rest, baby?” Aaron asks as he ushers you inside the house, one solid arm arm around the small of your back and Savannah in her carrier on the other.

“Yeah,” you sigh, dropping your purse on the coffee table and slipping off your shoes. “I just wish we didn’t still have to worry about the nursery,” you groan, plopping down onto the sofa.

“About that,” Aaron says with a mischievous grin, offering you his free hand.

“What are you up to, Aaron Hotchner?” You muse as he leads you down the hallway.

“Just trust me,” he assures, coming to a halt in front of the nursery door. “Close your eyes,” he requests.

“What is going on here?” you inquire again.

“Just close your eyes please, darling,” he asks. “For me.”

“Alright, alright,” you comply, “this better be good.”

“Don’t open them until I say so, okay?”

“Yes sir.”

With eyes closed and Jack close by your side, you hear the door open and the rustling of paper inside the room.

“Alright,” he whispers, sliding his arm around your shoulders. “Open your eyes.”

—————————————————————————

Taglist: @ange-must-die @agent-laufeyson @poetsacademia @hotchners-slut @arganfics @ladyreapermc @rousethemouse @less-intelligent-spencerreid @tgibstan @themanip @word-scribbless @quillvine @glizzieborden @miss-united-ace @samayoshito @hotchnerundercover @pedropascalian @thenewnormalforensicator @crowdedimagines @sagittarianwolf @kleff03

[aminiatureworld]

Enigmatic Feelings II

Characters: Beidou, Childe, Eula, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,402

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: In which the reader’s s/o is jealous

Author’s Note: Decided to tack on two characters to the request. This is my first time writing for Eula, and I think this prompt really fit her. She really reminds me of Kaguya Shinomiya in mindset, which is kinda hilarious. I hope I wrote her well!

In case you’re wondering, I kept all the NPCs gender neutral so that the reader might interpret them as they wish.

Beidou

Beidou and her crew tended to get drunk. Like, a lot. Rowdy parties soaked in alcohol, audible from Guyun Stone Forest to Qingce Village were simply part of ship culture. Though they might’ve been loud and somewhat disorganized, there was never any sense of overstepping boundaries, and things never ended up going too far.

Or at least that’s what Beidou would’ve liked to think. Watching you and another shipmate moseying up to one another was a surprisingly unpleasant experience, and Beidou took another swig of her flask to wash out the acidic taste in the back of her mouth.

What did it even matter if someone was flirting with you? It was the end of a long haul, emotions were running high, and everyone knew that you were the captain’s partner. Everyone knew that nothing serious would come of a little flirting, and the occasional compliment or teasing remark towards you here and there had never really bothered Beidou before. She wasn’t about to be jealous of a few flirty shipmates; after all, the ability to sweet talk should probably be a requirement for signing up for piracy anyways.

Maybe it was just how blatant the flirting was, so different than the usual passing, good-natured banter. Beidou knew how well each of her shipmates could hold their liquor. She also knew how quickly norms and rules tended to be thrown out the window the moment one got plastered. Even if the shipmate meant nothing truly malicious or devious in their words, Beidou couldn’t rule out the fact that they were probably genuinely flirting.

Neither could she ignore the fact that you were distinctly flirting back. Beidou wasn’t really surprised by this turn of events, after all you’d always responded with a good natured tease at the remarks flown you way and even engaged in some meaningless flirting yourself towards the other members of the ship. It was part of ship culture after all, to be so open and careless. The sea was never calm or placid, why should her voyagers be so? Still, Beidou couldn’t deny the fact that she was uncomfortable by the current situation, protocol be damned.

A part of her wanted to go up and tell you right out; you were her partner, and she was sure that you’d be able to understand what she was feeling. Yet pride kept her at her seat, downing more liquor to distract herself from her conundrum. After all, it’d be kind of hypocritical of her to cultivate a familiar ship culture and then turn around and revoke it at the drop of a hat, wouldn’t it? Nor would it feel right to enforce rules upon others that she herself didn’t follow. It’s not like Beidou hadn’t ever flirted with or teased someone else without thinking too much about it. How could she blame her crew for following her example?

Still the sight of you and your shipmate danced in front of her eyes, urging her to do something she’d surely regret. Beidou let out a loud sigh, something that wasn’t ignored by the people around her.

“You alright captain?” Juza eyed Beidou worriedly. One of the other hard drinkers on the ship, Beidou knew that she couldn’t rely on alcohol to allay her Chief Mate’s worries.

“I’m fine!” She spoke loudly, plastering a large grin upon her face. “I was just thinking about how proud I am of all of you! How much of a tight-knit crew we are!”

Beidou could tell that she was garnering the attention of the rest of the shipmates and stood up. She had neglected to make a speech so far, so wrapped up was she in the scene playing out before her eyes. Clearing her throat Beidou held up her flask, the eager anticipation of her crewmates combining with the liquid fire in her system, causing a wave of rash confidence to run through her. At least she was an entertaining speechmaker.

“I look out upon the faces of warriors now! We may be somewhat irregular, an anomaly of the seas. However, that doesn’t change our bond, our fierce loyalty, our capabilities. I look out upon a group of people closer than family! Perhaps you’ve had brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles, but tell me this! Could any of those members of your previous lives fight back to back with you? No! They could not! We are a special breed, and there will never be anyone who can understand us as we can understand each other! And we ought to never forget this! Do not forget the brotherhood forged by fire. I know that I never will!”

Cheers erupted from every corner as sailors drank gleefully. A few of the more out of commission crewmates were sobbing uglily, hugging whoever was in their vicinity and making slightly incomprehensible statements of affection and loyalty. Beidou sat down, smiling at the chaos in front of her. Yes, she really was part of a band of brothers, and there was no reason to forget or doubt that. Why was it then that she felt as if she’d been somewhat deceitful? And why was it then that her eyes once more drifted towards you and the sailor who was now enthusiastically slapping you on the back?

The rest of the night passed in a haze of alcohol, as Beidou downed drink after drink. She didn’t walk up to you, didn’t try to acknowledge the source of her unease. Why should she? It was a party after all, and there were other things to do. Passing out just as the sun was beginning its ascent once more into the sky Beidou wondered if she was always going to feel this way when anyone got slightly flirty with you. If so, well, she was in for a rough time.

The next day was greeted by a pounding headache. The sun was much too bright, and Beidou let out an annoyed yelp as she stumbled towards her window, trying to not fall flat on her face as she grasped for the curtains. Yanking on them awkwardly she had just managed to get them somewhat closed before there was a knock on her door. Cursing the captain drew herself up as much as she possibly could in her current state, hoping that her clothes didn’t look too much like she’d simply slept in them.

“Come in.”

“I thought you might want a pitcher of water.”

Your voice was soft and slightly apologetic. Letting out a sigh of relief Beidou nodded, allowing herself to stumble back towards her hammock and flop onto the blanket. Wow she had drank a lot last night. You walked over to her desk, steps too steady to be that of a hungover person. Pouring a glass of water you stared at Beidou as she drank, a question in your eyes.

“What is it? You seem to want to ask me a question.”

“Are you sure you’re up to answering?”

“Well now I won’t be able to rest until you tell me it.”

“Fair enough,” you smiled. “Was something wrong last night?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I mean you didn’t even walk over to me once. I was kind of surprised, to be honest.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, I just want to know why you were avoiding me.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you.” Beidou wrinkled her nose. Her head throbbed in protest and she quickly dropped the expression, sighing before taking another drink of water. “Well, perhaps I was slightly avoiding; but it’s wasn’t your fault.”

“Whose fault was it then?”

Beidou paused, trying to gather her thoughts as she searched for an answer. “You know that I don’t mind some familiarity on this ship.”

“Yes, as you so eloquently put last night,” you giggled slightly. Ignoring the subtle tease Beidou continued on.

“Well, I mean it; but it seems like I’m not very good at following my own rules. That shipmate you were flirting with last night? I just, I don’t know. Normally I don’t mind, y’know? But this time, well, it couldn’t stop bothering me. Even though you didn’t seem to mind it at all.”

“I didn’t mind it because he was drunk off his ass.” You pointed out, voice still soft and understanding. Taking one of Beidou’s hands in yours you leaned over to press a quick kiss on your partner’s forehead. “I’m sorry to hear it was bothering you though.”

“It’s not just that,” Beidou admitted. It seemed the floodgates of her thoughts had opened, and now she felt the need to tell you everything. “It’s that I couldn’t even follow my own rules, that I couldn’t stop myself from feeling… almost resentful. A captain, a good leader, they follow their own rules. It’s the only way to whip all the idiots into shape. But I couldn’t do that, I failed last night; I failed as a leader, I failed as a partner. I couldn’t follow my own example. Some leader.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” you murmured. Squeezing Beidou’s hand you shook your head slightly. “I know that the people on this ship sort of see you as a goddess, which you are, to me at least. Still, even goddesses can sometimes have flaws. Besides, if a shipmate ever came to you with these fears you’d absolutely laugh it off, give them a pat on the back, and send them on their way. So maybe you should follow your own example in that way. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Beidou’s gut reaction was to contradict you, to point out once more how she had failed. However she was too tired, and your point was making a suspicious amount of sense. “Very well,” she smiled slightly, “you have a way with words darling. You sure you haven’t missed a career as a siren?”

“I already have a lovely sailor, thank you very much,” you giggled. Pressing soft kisses across Beidou’s cheeks you stood up. “Now drink a lot of water and get some rest. We can’t have our captain out of commission.”

“I trust I’m not the only one sleeping in today?”

“Oh definitely not! It’ll probably take a week before we’re in any shape to treasure hunt again.”

“Pity.”

“So greedy!” You gasped in fake surprise.

“As if you didn’t know that when you signed up.”

“I don’t know I never pegged you as the jealous type,” you said in a sing-song voice. Beidou felt her cheeks redden.

“Shaddup.”

Your laughter filled the cabin, bright and rejuvenating. Beidou couldn’t help but crack a small smile herself. How had she ever gotten so lucky in regards to her partner? Regardless of how, she wasn’t about to take you for granted.

  Childe

Childe liked to think of himself as one of the “good ones” when it came to Harbingers to work under. Was he somewhat demanding and only expected the best when it came to combat? Well, yes. Did he regularly debase his coworkers and underlings? No, he wasn’t Scaramouche after all. As long as you were passionate in your drive to serve the Tsaritsa and as long as you never missed out on your training, well Childe was sure that he could never have a problem with you.

That was, in fact, not true.

One of the Fatui messengers had been talking to you for almost twenty minutes now, though about what Childe hadn’t the slightest idea. After all, he’d already gotten the message that he needed, and the messenger surely had no business with you – you didn’t even work for the Fatui. Still there the messenger stood and there you stood next to him, a small smile on your face as you let out a soft laugh in regards to whatever they were saying.

Childe knew that he had no reason to feel as he did, but that didn’t stop irritation from rising inside him, and a sudden urge to flaunt his superiority that he usually reserved for the field of battle rose up inside of him. He didn’t quite understand why he was suddenly struggling against the urge to run up to you and throw his arms around you, but the urge was certainly there. What in Teyvat were you talking to that messenger about? What could possibly take up so much of your time? Considering the small fragments of conversation that made it to his ears Childe ruled that it was nothing truly of importance.

Letting himself lounge even more across his office chair Childe let out a slight sound of annoyance. Weren’t the two of you doing something before the nuisance came along? Sure, it wasn’t necessarily the most important thing, but discovering the best place in Liyue to study the stars was hardly worthless. After all, being somewhere high up and with a good view meant a better survey of the land around you. Who knew when some pesky Millelith or intrepid adventurer might try to attack the Fatui members scattered across the plains and mountains in Liyue? It was imperative to have eyes on everything, certainly more important than whatever this was!

Finally giving into his rising irritation Childe walked over to the two of you. Slinging an arm around your shoulder, Childe tried to give the messenger a smile that didn’t convey ‘scram or I’m kicking you out’. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but my partner and I have business to do and I’m sure that your other messages won’t deliver themselves. To the Tsaritsa information is everything and all that, so you should probably make sure people actually get said information.”

“Oh, uh, yes my lord. I’m sorry.”

The messenger pulled himself up straighter, giving an awkward bow. Turning to go the messenger didn’t fail to turn back around to give you one last smile. Accentuating his smile once more Childe finally detached himself from you as the messenger walked out of the office, shutting the door softly behind him.

After that the messenger seemed to be showing up everywhere. Childe could’ve sworn he was getting more mail in a week than he had in all his previous months in Liyue. Not to mention how awkward the timing of the deliveries seemed to seemed to be. What was the point of getting “important” mail right before the Bank ostensibly closed? What was Childe supposed to do with the information now? Never mind the fact that the letters and notes he was getting seemed to be getting more and more mundane, even nonsensical. A shipment of weaponry to be picked up, that might be important. But specifications on the renovations Dottore was making on his lair? Why would Childe ever need to know something like that?

Nor did it escape Childe’s notice that these messages always seemed to come with at least twenty minutes of conversation with you. How was the Harbinger supposed to concentrate when someone was yakking away in his office? Besides, what did it matter to you what this person’s favorite flowers were? Childe knew that the Tsaritsa was often quite ingenious in her schemes, but he truly couldn’t see what relaying someone’s favorite flowers could do? Had he mentioned before that you weren’t even a member of the Fatui?

Every day the messenger would endlessly chat with you about the stupidest things, and every day Childe would end up interrupting the two of you. What started with slinging an arm around your shoulder was slowly escalating. First it was an arm, then two, then an arm around your waist, then a head on your shoulder. One time he’d even pulled you right against him, smiling slightly as you let out a squeak of surprise.

Of course Childe knew what he was experiencing, was not necessarily unfamiliar with the concept of jealousy. Still, he wasn’t about to tell you about it. After all jealousy was a shallow, grasping sort of emotion; something that caused generals to fight against one another to approach him or the Harbingers instead of tending to their own troops. Jealousy was a useless sort of emotion, and not one that a warrior such as himself ought to feel. Besides, did he really need to feel jealous about an annoyingly persistent messenger? They were hardly above a weed in the hierarchy of things.

Still, Childe couldn’t exactly deny that he was feeling jealous. Avoidance was one thing, deceit was another. Even if he didn’t want to tell you about what he was feeling, he would never lie to you about it. Which is why at the end of another tedious twenty minute conversation when the messenger had finally left and you turned around to ask him if something was wrong Childe found himself frozen, stuck between quite the rock and a hard place.

“Why would you ask such a question darling? Does something seem wrong to you?”

“Childe, please. You’ve been clingier than barnacle recently. Are you even supposed to be at the office today; weren’t you supposed to inspect an outpost in Dragonspine today?”

“I just wanted to spend some time with my wonderful, amazing partner! Is there something wrong with that?”

“For you? Yes, there absolutely is. Childe, are, are you upset about something?”

Childe stared at you for a moment, crumbling under your persistent gaze. He could tell that you were worried, could tell in the slant of your mouth and the furrow of your brow. He couldn’t very well say no. That would be lying after all. He was upset about something, even if it was something utterly beneath him. He was still upset.

“That messenger has been annoying me.”

“The one that just left?” You turned to look at the closed door behind you, a puzzled expression on your face. “But why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? They’re flirting with you.”

“They’re not!” Your expression was incredulous, but you paused for a moment, obviously thinking about something very seriously. “At least, I don’t think they are. Are they?”

“Yes,” Childe let out a snort. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice. Why else would they be delivering the most worthless information before chatting with you when they should be somewhere else?”

“I guess you’re right,” you admitted. “But Childe, it’s not like I’d ever be interested in them. I mean, I can see how it’d be kind of annoying to have someone invade your personal space, but why the clinginess?”

Childe stared at you for a moment. “You’re kinda dense you know.”

“I’m not!”

“Oh you absolutely are. How else would you not realize that I’m jealous?”

“Well, well because I don’t know. You just don’t seem the jealous type. Besides, it’s not like I’d ever have interest in anyone other than you. I don’t know, I just don’t see the point.”

“You really are dense.” Childe smiled a small, frustrated smile. Letting his head drop into the crook of your neck he let out sigh. “I know that there’s no reason that I should’ve be jealous. I just, am. I don’t know why, but seeing that messenger flirting with you for days on end, I couldn’t help it.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Your tone shifted slightly as you reached up to card gentle fingers through Childe’s orange locks. “Sometimes we’re just weird like that. Just as long as you know that you never have reason to be jealous, then you can be jealous sometimes. Alright?”

“Alright.” Childe whispered, finally letting himself relax a bit.

Raising his head he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You let out a small purr of happiness, gladly reciprocating. The weight on the Harbinger’s chest lightened, and he was finally met with the feeling of lazy contentment.

“Now, don’t you have an inspection to attend?” You smiled indulgently. “Go on, I’ve got errands to do anyways. As much as I appreciate the attention, you have to lessen the clinginess, okay?”

“Can’t make any promises darling.”

The sound of your indignant squawk, combined with Childe’s laughter, chased him out of the room and down the staircase.

  Eula

As a member of the esteemed Lawrence family Eula was confident in the fact that such base emotions as jealousy were utterly beneath her. What did people take her for? A commoner? What a presumptuous line of thought!

No, it was certainly not jealousy that Eula was feeling right now. What a preposterous notion. She was simply irritated that a Guild member had forgotten all respect due to the Knights of Favonius. After all, you were a part of Mondstadt’s frontline protectors, a far cry from those poor fools who relied only upon commission to prove their worth. Yes, it was simply how presumptuous that lowly Guild member was being, taking up your time on your patrol across the parapet of the wall surrounding Monstadt, to engage in such a frivolous act as flirting.

Surely there was nothing more to it? No, it was not even worth it to pose such a stupid question. After all, what was a lowly adventurer to Eula? A nuisance, perhaps, but nothing more. Certainly nothing to be worried about. There was no reason to pause at the tower door, no reason not to simply walk over to you, her partner and coworker. Your time on patrol was done, it was time to come in. Why then was she hesitating?

“You must love the view up here,” the adventurer smiled widely.

“Yes, it’s very nice!” You were all smiles.

“I’m sure it’s made all the more beautiful by your presence,” the adventurer pressed on.

“Ah, t-thanks,” you replied, smiling again and reaching to grasp the back of your neck. “Really, you’re too kind.”

“Not at all!”

The adventurer appeared to want to say something else, but Eula had long ago decided that things had gone too far. Who did this mere Guild member think they were?

“Your time is up soldier, you are needed in the afternoon meeting.”

Eula tried to keep her posture as correct as possible, looking straight past the interloper to you. You seemed to brighten, rushing over to Eula and nodding enthusiastically.

“Eula! Of course! I’ll be down, right this instant.”

“Good,” Eula replied, giving a curt not. Glancing over towards the adventurer she crossed her arms. “As for you, layawaying a knight of Favonius is a blemish upon the Adventurer’s Guild. Such a discretion surely must be paid with vengeance. Mark my words, I will not let this deed go unpunished.”

The adventurer stiffed. Taking a step towards Eula their face contorted into a snarl. “Listen here you Lawrence –”

“We’ll be going now!” You jumped in, glancing at you Eula nodded. Turning around she kept her features neutral. However she noticed the way you gestured apologetically at the fool before going to follow Eula, expression one of undeniable embarrassment.

Perhaps it was too much to hope that the adventurer might’ve learned their lesson. There they were the next day, standing right in front of you, acting as if yesterday’s squabble had never happened. Talking your ear off just as before Eula couldn’t help but frown at how they were to you, how they always seemed just about to brush their fingers against yours. How crude to do such a thing to a perfect stranger.

“Dear, is everything alright?”

Your voice snapped Eula out of her reverie. The two of you were walking towards Headquarters to grab your extra equipment before heading home. Normally Eula cherished such quiet moments, feeling like they were the few times when she could be utterly confident, utterly herself. This time however she found the events of the week pressing on her. Only managing to nod Eula quickened her pace slightly, as if to outrun the feelings that were growing inside her.

 “Hey, is something wrong?”

Eula lifted her gaze away from the papers she’d been halfheartedly scanning, her eyes meeting Amber’s. Eula would be the first person to admit that she wasn’t exactly sure how she had become friends with the eccentric Outrider. Indeed most of the things about Amber on paper grated Eula quite a bit. Still Amber was probably Eula’s closest coworker – other than you – and closest thing to a best friend that Eula had. It was perhaps unsurprising that Amber should notice something was wrong, and Eula was almost pleased by the fact that Amber was concerned about her.

“Nothing of great importance,” the knight replied. “There is only a nuisance which has been taking up a great deal of time and seems to still be interfering, despite all my efforts.”

“What kind of nuisance?” Amber tilted her head. Eula looked away, staring at the shelves that lined her office. She didn’t really want to look her coworker in the eyes.

“A, human nuisance. There has been an adventurer from the Guild who has been taking up a great deal too much of my partner’s time. They are utterly too presumptive in familiarity, and I feel that they are jeopardizing the Knights of Favonius with their irresponsible actions. Yet, despite all my efforts, they refuse to rethink their devious ways. It is no small problem.”

“That does sound very unpleasant.”

“Indeed, and yet I know not what to do. My reprimands have fallen on deaf ears.”

“Have you thought of maybe telling your partner.”

“Why would I ever reveal such feelings to my partner?!” Eula whipped her head around to look at Amber. The smile on her face was somewhat self-congratulatory.

“Eula, can I ask if you’ve considered something?”

“What is that?” Whatever Amber was about to say, it wasn’t going to be good.

“Have you considered the possibility that you might be jealous?”

“What, what nonsense! As if I should ever fall prey to such, to such base sensibilities!” Eula felt her face redden. Finding a particularly dirty spot upon the ground Eula stared intently past her friend. No, surely Amber was wrong.

“If you say so,” Amber shrugged. “But you might want to think about it. I mean, if I were feeling jealous I’d want to tell my partner. Besides, isn’t it the duty of a knight of Favonius to be honest and true?”

“You’re taking this awfully seriously,” Eula mumbled.

“Maybe,” Amber smiled, “but I do care about you. Remember that.”

With that the Outrider grabbed the paper she’d presumably been looking for and walked out the door before Eula could think of any sort of comeback. Turning her gaze back to her work Eula let out an exasperated sigh. Vengeance would be required against her coworker for such a ridiculous suggestion.

It was beginning to get on evening as Eula raced towards your regular guard spot. She’d worked later than usual today, probably spurned on by irritation at Amber’s ridiculous suggestions, and now Eula hoped that you hadn’t given up waiting for her and decided to go home. Climbing up the stairs her mind drifted once more to what Amber had said. Jealous? A member of the Lawrence clan was jealous? No, it was surely ridiculous. I mean, sure, she found the majority of her family members repulsive and vain and lazy to a fault, but surely she had to take something out of all the time she had spent within their midst. Besides, appearances had to be kept up, if only for the song and dance that the other people of Liyue insisted on continuing, long after it had stopped being of any use.

And yet, if she really was jealous, which of course she wasn’t, wouldn’t it be right to tell you? It was these thoughts that chased Eula. As she reached the top of the stairs to the opening of the parapet she decided that, if Amber’s theory were somehow proved right, she would tell you. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, the familiar silhouette of an adventurer meant it was the perfect time to figure this question out.

“It’s pretty late, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” you smiled. “Still, Monstadt must be guarded day and night, mustn’t it?”

“Ah yes, the Knights must do all they can to protect our glorious city. Still, would there not be another reason for you staying up here so late?”

“Not particularly,” you shook your head.

“Are you sure about that?” The adventurer leaned towards you. Eula once more felt her heart seize up with that now all too common emotion. Was this jealousy?

“Uhm, I’m pretty sure.” The more that Eula had watched this song and danse the more she had realized how awkward you seemed around this person.

“Oh come on, a lonely figure looking out from on a wall, it’s sounds pretty story-like doesn’t it? Then again, you are straight out of a fairytale.”

“Thanks,” you replied, laughing somewhat awkwardly.

At this point Eula had come to a decision. Regardless of what this emotion was, and she was becoming increasingly worried it was, in fact, jealousy, you still seemed to be somewhat uncomfortable. Walking out onto the parapet she took your hand, glaring at the adventurer which stood across from you.

“I see you are once more distracting one of the Knights.”

“They didn’t mind, did you?” The adventurer’s mouth screwed up into something resembling a sneer. When you said nothing they shook their head. “You just had to come and make everything awkward; typical of a Lawrence member to be such a pain in the ass.”

“And now you insult one of the Knights! Indeed, the punishment will surely be great; and, until I decide what punishment is to be meted out, I suggest you take your leave.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” The adventurer sputtered, but Eula merely smiled.

“Indeed I can. If I find you harassing one of our Knights one more time, know that I will not be so lenient as to merely give you a warning.”

“I wasn’t harassing anyone!”

“Distracting them then, making them unable to perform their duties, being a public nuisance. Do any of these serve you better?” Eula waved her hand. “Not that the terminology matters at this point. What matters is that you stop your current behavior.”

“Please just listen to what Eula says,” you piped up. Smiling a small smile you walked over to the adventurer. “I know that you were just trying to flirt, but I think that you should shoot your shot elsewhere now. Okay?”

The adventurer looked slightly red in the face, though whether it was embarrassment or anger was anyone’s guess. Slinking away, grumbling something under their breath, the Guild member was soon down the stairs and out of sight.

Sighing loudly you turned to Eula.

“Thanks for that. I mean, really! I don’t think they were trying to be actively malicious, but really sometimes you just have to read a room! I’m just glad I didn’t have to break it to them by myself.”

Staring at the stones under her feet Eula found herself mumbling something.

“What?”

“It, it wasn’t for your sake.”

“Ah yes, I know, it was for the honor and glory of the Knights of Favonius! Still, thank you.”

“No, I didn’t mean that. It was that, well, Amber’s been talking to me.”

“Amber?” You tilted your head, evidently confused by the sudden turn of the conversation. “What was she talking to you about?”

“About a very foolish emotion, one that I would never dream of feeling myself. And yet, I, I do believe that maybe, just maybe mind you, it had a factor in, in my actions.” Unwilling to come right out with it Eula found herself frowning. “The audacity of her really, to imply that a member of the Lawrence family might experience something as base as jealousy!”

Looking up towards you Eula saw recognition pass over your features. For a moment you did nothing, then suddenly a small, soft smile broke out on your face. Walking over to Eula, you gently enclosed your partner’s hands in yours.

“Thank you for telling me Eula, I’m sure it must’ve been difficult.”

“I-I’m not sure about it yet!” Eula stammered. “Only Amber wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“That does sound like Amber,” you let out a soft laugh. “Still, thank you for telling me. It means a lot to me, okay?”

“A-alright.”

“I’m glad.”

You leaned over to give Eula a quick peck, before turning to walk down the stairs. Eula followed, one of her hands still intertwined firmly with yours. Suddenly her heart felt lighter than it had all week.

[ezgithechaotic]

pushing up the dasies . peter parker

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Peter Parker x female reader

summary: Someone has been stealing Y\N's flowers, and she is determined to find who it is.

warnings: she\ her pronouns (don't know if this one's a warning), mention of the death of a loved person, graveyard

author note: I’m sorry in advance if I have any fault. English is not my first language. But please let me know if you see anthing that doesn’t seem right. I really have no idea if this is good or trash. I’m getting mixed signs. So, please leave a comment about what you think, love you.

As a comic book nerd, I personally love both Andrew and Tom's Spiderman. Just thought this story fit Andrew's more, but feel free to imagine Peter as your favorite! 

masterlist 

The first time you realized a few flowers were picked from your garden, you didn't think much into it. The kids around the neighborhood liked to play hide and seek around your garden. You thought; it should be Thompson's girl, she likes flowers. It wasn't something that never happened before. You would simply plant new ones, it was no big deal, you could never get angry at children. But after some time, you started to realize the pattern. Every month on the same day, you found a handful of your daisies gone upon returning from your part-time job. Mrs. Thompson swore her daughter would never do such a thing without asking, and after the third time, you were sure somebody was stealing your flowers. Maybe it was that gruff man across the street that never got along with people. But you had a feeling if he had to do anything with your flowers, it would only be blowing them up. 

Peter always wondered whom the pretty flowers and house belong to. The post box just outside the garden said Y\L\N, and he had always imagined an old sweet woman lived in the white-painted house with a green door. And Peter hoped he didn't make the poor woman too sad with missing flowers. Boy, was he wrong. You weren't old, and you were furious and determined to find the person who stole your beautiful daisies. 

Your friends always wondered why you liked living in such an old neighborhood. The house was one of the few things your mother left you after she died, along with the considerable amount of money in your bank account. You could always sell the house, find an apartment downtown, so you can be closer to school that's what your friends told you every time you had them over. But you loved the house. You loved that the house held so many memories of your childhood, especially your garden. Even though your mother was a busy woman, she had always made time for you and her flowers. At the age of six, growing flowers with your mother quickly became one of your favorite pastimes. That week you did what everyone would do, changed your shift with Mary Jane to catch the flower thief. 

So, no, selling the house or letting strangers steal your lovely flowers was not one of the many choices. 

Now, Peter Parker was many things, but not a thief. Well, it depended on what you would call stealing. Surely picking a few flowers from a random garden couldn't count as stealing. And God knows he wouldn't do it if he weren't penniless. Trying to survive college and paying for an apartment didn't leave him much. The money The Daily Bugle paid was shit. He had been selling photos for the damn newspaper since high school, but it was no use, Peter had to find a job that paid more than The Daily Bugle. And there was no way he was going to ask Aunt May for money, even though she would be happy to give him some. But that was another day's concern, for now, the only thing he needed to do was be quick. Because he knew if you found out that it was him who was stealing, sorry picking, your flowers he sure wouldn't be able to swing away this time. 

Peter honestly felt guilty about your flowers, they were lovely. And he knew this was a safe neighborhood, so he had no way of paying you back with saving you. He had been visiting Gwen every month since her death. It was one of the few things he could keep up with after he graduated high school. Daisies were Gwen's favorite. Peter knew he could easily find another place to pick the flowers, but he believed that there was something magical about the garden. He felt so much love around the house. Maybe it was a silly thing, but Peter thought Gwen would have loved that garden. 

Y\N had been sitting on her porch, hiding behind the dark blue armchair, actually too anxious to face the flower thief. You felt childish after some time. It was just a few daisies, right? There was no need to act like a crazy woman. As you were getting ready to go back inside, you saw him. He had an average height, brown messy hair. He was wearing a black t-shirt and an unbuttoned baby blue shirt with a greenish-brown jacket. Y\N's anger turned back the minute she saw him touch the flowers. 

"You, flower thief!" 

A moment before, Peter felt like his whole body was on edge as if bells were ringing in his brain. But he was already late to realize she had been waiting for him and there was no way to run, he wasn't wearing his suit. Where were the damn spider-senses when he needed them the most? So, he just stood there, speechless, his hand hanged above the daisies. She was pretty, as pretty as the flowers before him. Guilt heating his face, Peter couldn't help but stare at you with his eyes wide open like a dumbstruck idiot. He felt like his lunch was climbing its way back up. 

You were now, standing few steps away from him. "You've been stealing my flowers for months!" 

Peter held his hands up in defense. "Look, I can explain." 

Y\N put her hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised, waiting for an explanation. Your heart beating like crazy. Even though it was still bright and you were in the middle of a road, he was a man. A man taller and despite looking skinny, stronger than you. But you hold your face as still as you could.  

"Go on then." 

Peter couldn't find the words to explain. What was he going to say? Sorry, I thought my dead girlfriend would love your flowers so, I've been stealing them, I hope you don't try to kill me. No fucking way. His mouth opened and closed few times, making you sigh. You realized the boy wasn't going to give you any answer. He was probably taking them to his girlfriend or boyfriend. 

"Are they pretty?" you asked, dropping your hands. Peter, very confused, kept on staring at her. You rolled your eyes at how silly he was. "The person you're taking my flowers to." Something at the back of your mind hoped he would say they were for his mother. Now that you were closer you could see the sweet hazel color of his eyes. 

"Um-" His hand went up, scratching his neck. "She is." 

She was.

He shuffled through his pants pockets. "I have a photo-" 

"No." You stopped him. "I want to see if she is pretty enough for my daisies." 

"What?" Peter tried to grasp his head around the idea. 

"I want to see her and tell her that her boyfriend is a thief. C'mon." 

"I don't think-"  Peter was getting anxious, now. How was he supposed to tell you that her girlfriend was dead? 

"Of course you don't think." You started walking. "C'mon, now. Take the flowers." 

Peter didn't know what to do so he went with it. What could go wrong, right? 

"I'm sorry," Peter said after some time. "I have no excuse for what I did." 

His head hung low, watching his steps as he walked. He knew he would stutter if he looked at your face. Peter had a habit of getting tongue-tied around pretty girls. And, well, you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Mind you, he wasn't even thinking about Gwen anymore, which made him feel kinda guilty. 

"It's okay." You had your hands in the pockets of your jacket. "My life's been boring lately. You were the only exciting thing, I guess." 

"I'm sure you have more exciting things than me." Peter still didn't look at you but you could see him smiling.

"It's Y\N, by the way." You kept your eyes on him. "If you wanted to know the name of a woman you constantly robbed."

He laughed. "Peter, Peter Parker." His eyes finally met yours. It was ridiculous, how easy it was to just look at his face and feel safe even though he was a stranger. His smile grew even more. It was almost contagious, his smile. He had something about him that made you wanted to scream and purr like a cat at the same time. You felt yourself getting overwhelmed, he was making you weak at the knees. So, you pulled your eyes away from him. 

Pull yourself together, woman! He has a girlfriend.

You were too distracted to realize where was Peter taking you until you arrived. It was the same route you took whenever you felt like talking to your mother. Peter and you were standing just outside of the graveyard. Your head whipped around, turning to Peter. He had a soft smile on his face. 

"Peter, I-" 

"It's okay." 

"No, It's not okay." You took a deep breath, pressing your palms into your eyes. "I'm such a dick." 

"No, you were just mad at me." 

You slouched your shoulder, didn't know what to say. What would even one say in this situation?

"C'mon." Peter's warm hand was gently holding your arm, now. "Let's go see her." 

You didn't talk until you arrived at the tombstone. Peter put the flowers in front of it. 

"Daisies were her favorite." He had a sweet look on his face, he put his hands back into his pockets. 

"They were my mother's favorite, too." You murmured, but Peter could hear you perfectly. "I think that's why I overreacted you picking the flowers. I wasn't thinking." 

"Oh, It's not stealing anymore, then?" He teased. "It's okay, honestly. She would've liked you. You have that fire in you like you could make the world better just with a gesture of your hand. She liked that kind of people, that can light the room with their smile." 

"I think I would've liked her, too." You said, your eyes on the tombstone.

Gwen Stacy. 

Her name was familiar to you. You didn't know where, but you were sure you had heard before. Still, you didn't ask Peter anything, assumed he wouldn't be comfortable talking about it. You didn't say anything until you were out of the graveyard. You knew you would come back tomorrow to see your mother, but with Gwen on your mind. 

The more you looked at his face the more you could see him. Peter wore his heart on his sleeve, he was easy to read. "You blame yourself." You said, nodding your head slowly. You smiled after seeing the face he made. "It's okay, I know the feeling." 

"Your mother?"

"Yeah." 

Neither of you talked for a long time. Peter could tell you weren't ready to talk about it. He knew it wasn't easy to open up, especially to a stranger. It'd been years since he talked about Gwen, so, he knew the feeling, too. 

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. It was a message from Mary Jane.  "Just arrived home, you owe me." 

"That's it!" You exclaimed, remembering your talk with Mary Jane. "That's how I knew her name!" 

Peter, looking very confused, asked you. "What?" 

"Gwen, her name was very familiar." Pocketing your phone again. "I have a friend, Mary Jane, who went to the same high school with Gwen. I've seen her in the yearbook. That's where I recognized her name." 

"You know MJ?"

"Oh, yeah," you laughed. "We met in Brooklyn, probably four years ago. I think it was very late, some guy was trying to get her number even though she said no, like five times. And I hadn't had the best day of my life. So, I punched the guy and told him to leave her alone. We have been friends ever since."

Peter was amazed. He didn't know how much cooler you could get. 

"You know her, too?" 

"Yeah, We've been friends for a long time. My aunt kinda tried to set us up."  

You laughed. Peter and Mary Jane seemed like two opposite characters. You would never imagine them together. But again, maybe Peter's pretty face was affecting your judgment. You didn't know. He made your mind foggy. At last, you found yourselves at your front yard again. Your eyes wandered over the empty spots that daisies left. 

"Would you like to get a coffee sometime?" Peter was leaning against white fences that surrounded your garden. He had that sweet smile on his face again. "So I can pay you back for daisies."

You bit your lips to stop yourself from smiling so much. "Gwen was pretty enough for them. You can have some once a month when I'm not looking." Peter was feeling like you were about to turn him down. Both of you knew this wasn't really about the damn flowers. But again, Peter was every so often wrong about these kinds of things. "But you know, maybe not Saturdays. I'm usually free for a cup of coffee on Saturdays." Peter was ready to feed himself with only pasta for a week if it meant he would get to see you again. 

You could visibly see Peter's eyes liting up. "Just one cup?" 

You shrugged. "Tea is fine, too." 

"I didn't know MJ had friends like you." He said, intensely watching your every move. 

"Like me?" You were so sure something bad was coming, he was simply too good to be true.

"You know, this beautiful. If I had known, I would have visited her more."

"Wow, you are hiding a monster under that pretty face, don't you?"  

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Got no shame [Oliver Wood x Reader] - Challenge

Title: Got no shame Pairing: Oliver Wood x Female!Reader Word count: 2.5k Published: 27 May, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Summary: [x] Being the daughter of the coach of Puddlemere United gives you the opportunity to get close to the players, some even more than others. When Oliver gets injured, you don’t even care about being friends or less or more, you just need to know if he is okay. Challenge: [x] [x] This is part of @iliveiloveiwrite 's writing challenge

Song inspiration: No shame by 5 Seconds of Summer

Bingo: [x] [x] This is part of my Band--Psychos 1.5k Followers Bingo Card by @band--psycho and my Make me feel Bingo Card by @girl-next-door-writes​​

Square filled: Rain [ @band--psycho ]

Square filled: Temporary amnesia [ @girl-next-door-writes ]

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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Make me feel Bingo Masterlist

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You have always been a big fan of quidditch, but unfortunately your abilities were never enough to become a professional. Luckily however, your father was the coach of the Puddlemere quidditch team. It was a daily occurrence for you to appear on their practice, overtime even becoming friends with some of the team members.

Benjy, the seeker of the team and Jocelind, one of the chasers quickly grew fond of you. Although your friendship started off on a rocky road. The two of them had a mission to tease you about their keeper, Oliver Wood’s crush on you. They thought his tries to catch your attention would be obvious to everyone, but it seemed you were the only one who couldn’t see it. Benjy and Jo made it their duty to remind you every single day how badly Oliver had fallen for you. Just like on that particular day, before one of their most important matches.

“Can you just stop?” You exhaled, pleading with the pair, the same subject repeating itself daily. Falling back onto one of the benches of the changing room, you heaved a heavy sigh, tired of their constant nagging.

“Sure, will you accept that Wood has a crush on you?” Benjy asked, teasingly wiggling his brows as he took a seat beside you, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“No! I will not! When he joined the team, he was this shy little boy, trying to adjust. He always talked to me, he always came to me for advice. If back then you said he had a crush on me, I might have believed you. But since then, he has become popular, girls and boys falling on their knees in front of him. I just can’t see it and I doubt out of all his choices I would be a contender,” you explained, sighing deeply.

“For Merlin’s sake,” Jo exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air, “each time he gives an autograph he is looking for your eyes, hoping for you to notice him. When the papers are taking photos of us, he looks like a meerkat trying to get your attention. How dumb can you be, woman?” She groaned as she folded her arms in front of her chest, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“You have had a crush on him for years, do something already,” Benjy added quickly before you could have replied. “Wood is my friend and I know him, he is mad for you.”

“Guys, please,” you pleaded, wanting to close the subject finally. “I would like nothing more than to believe you, but there’s no way Wood—,” before you could have continued, the entrance door of the changing room opened, a tall figure entering, his head covered under a hoodie, his clothes soaked, raindrops dripping to the floor.

“Oh, hi,” he lifted his head, revealing his identity. Pushing back his hoodie, you caught his dark eyes as he ran his hand across his short-cut, brown hair, his mere presence causing your cheeks to warm up. “You are early,” he added as none of you replied.

“Yeah, wanted to beat some sense into this woman,” Jo replied with a groan, clearly still annoyed by your blindness for Oliver’s feelings.

“Maybe I should beat some into you,” huffing, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, turning away from your friend’s gaze.

“Okay, why don’t we just take a deep breath and calm down?” Benjy interrupted.

“You clearly have something to discuss, should I leave?” Oliver asked as he looked around the three of you with a confused expression painted across his handsome face.

“Yes,” Jo replied, but you couldn’t handle another lecture.

“No,” you added, wanting to just stop them from nagging you any further.

“Well, that was helpful,” Oliver scoffed, trying to stop the little smirk from appearing in the corner of his lips. “So, which is it then?”

“No, because if you stay, it means they will quiet down finally and I need them to stop nagging me,” you replied as you stood up from the bench and headed towards the door. “Instead of getting on my nerves, you should start getting ready for the match,” you huffed in annoyance.

“As far as I’m concerned your father is our coach, not you,” Jo replied with gritted teeth.

“Indeed. But guess what, he would say the same,” you offered her a smug grin as you stepped out of the changing room, loudly shutting the door behind yourself.

As you headed to your father’s office, you heard loud footsteps following you. Turning around, you saw Oliver run after you, his clothes still drenched in water, but it didn’t stop him from coming after you. A soft smile appeared on your face as you patiently waited for him.

“Are you doing ground exercises?” You asked playfully as the boy finally halted beside you, trying to adjust his breathing.

“Very funny,” he scoffed, but you caught a tiny smile appearing in the corner of his lips. “I couldn’t stand the mood in the changing room. I have no idea what you have done, but Jo is quite pissed off,” he added, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“Did they tell you what we argued about?” You asked, panic settling deep inside you as you realised Oliver might just know of your crush on him.

“Nah, they didn’t say anything, other than that you are being stubborn and blind for whatever reason,” he furrowed, the words without context making no sense to him.

“So, I’ve heard,” you grimaced as you started walking towards your father’s office once again.

“Wait, can I ask you what the argument was about?” He reached for your arm, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist. You turned back to look at him over your shoulder, his eyes holding curiosity.

“The person I like,” you replied, hoping for some sort of reaction from him.

“O— oh,” he breathed, somewhat disappointed as he let go of your wrist. The way he acted was certainly not what you expected and for a mere second you could see what Jo and Benjy were talking about. But a reasonable part of your brain quickly adjusted and decided to send you signals that reassured you it was probably just an involuntary reaction with no meaning behind it.

“Anyways, I will go and see my father. Maybe you should get ready,” you offered him a soft smile as you patted his shoulder and wished him good luck for the game.

As the match started, the rain was still pouring heavily, a batch of lightning struck on the ground, the players barely able to avoid them in time. You hid under your soaked hoodie as you cheered for the team, but deep down your stomach was in a knot, hoping for everyone to leave the game unscraped.

“Come on, Wood!” You shouted as the opponent flew towards his hoops, but luckily, he kicked the quaffle out of the way. His eyes looked for you for a good few seconds, before he caught sight of you and offered you a cheerful grin that you couldn’t stop from mirroring.

The match was rather aggressive, and the weather didn’t help the situation. Whilst you watched your friends fly around the pitch, their blue and yellow cloak following them in their route, a nervous feeling settled in you as a heavy rumble shook the area.

You stood up from the spectator stand and started heading down the stairs, wanting to feel closer to your friends. However, as you looked up, the next thing you saw was a blinding lighting that struck straight into the ground, sending none other than Oliver Wood off his position straight into the wall of the spectator stand across the pitch. A loud scream left your lungs, your heart beating in a dangerous pace as you watched his unconscious body fall towards the ground before someone slowed him down mid-air. Looking down at the benches, you saw your father with his wand in his hand pointing towards Oliver’s limp body, slowly placing him down on the fake grass.

As you started running down the stairs, you never felt more determined. You needed to see him, feel his pulse, check his body for injuries. It was driving you crazy how slowly your body moved before you finally caught sight of him surrounded by a couple of healers as they placed him on a stretcher. Almost feeling him in your grasp, you started running towards the injured boy, but before you could have caught up with the healers, two arms wrapped around you, pulling you back against a strong chest.

“He is going to be okay,” you heard your father’s voice, trying to sooth your worries away.

“Let me see him. Please, dad,” you replied, your voice weak and shaky. He turned you around and pulled you into a fatherly hug, just like the ones you received when you were little. As you finally started calming down, he leaned back and cupped your cheeks, removing the tear stains from your face that you didn’t even realise you had under the heavy rain.

“The healers will help him, but they will not let you in just yet, so take a deep breath, sit down with me on the bench and as soon as they signal for me, I will let you go. Sounds like a good plan?” He asked, hoping you would be able to think reasonably. After a heavy sigh you nodded, knowing that you couldn’t possibly do anything for him. You headed back towards the benches with your father and as they blew the whistle again, you listened to the game, but your mind was somewhere else, to be exact on the boy that the healers rushed away from you before you could even check on him.

It felt like eternity before your father placed a hand on your shoulder and nodded towards the exit of the pitch. Without a word or a thankful look, you started running after the healer that stood at the gate. When you arrived you greeted him and followed him diligently to the medical wing. The path felt like you’ve been walking for hours, even though it was only a couple of minutes. You were impatient, you wanted to see Oliver for yourself, making sure he was okay.

As you reached the medical wing and the large wooden doors opened, your eyes frantically searching for Oliver. As you caught his figure at the back of the room, you rushed up to him and sat down on the small stool beside his bed and took his hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly. Although it was you who needed to be reassured that he was alright. His eyes started slowly flattering before he finally opened them, looking around the room in confusion, groaning as he turned his head.

“Stay put, Wood,” you instructed him as you pulled your stool closer. “How are you feeling? Are you in a lot of pain?” You bombarded him with questions.

“I’m fine. My head and my back hurts, but I’m okay,” a small smile spread across his face as he squeezed your hand.

“You scared me,” you scolded him as you slapped the back of his hand gently, making him chuckle lightly.

“I didn’t mean to,” he replied with an innocent expression, but a hidden smile in the corner of his lips. “What happened exactly? I’m kind of blurry on the details.”

“A lightning struck beside you and it sent you straight into one of the spectator walls. When you started falling dad slowed you down to stop you from getting any further injuries,” you explained with a deep frown across your brows and concern lacing your eyes. “It was horrible,” you added with a shaky breath as you played with his hand in yours.

“Hey,” he called out to you in a soft tone, lifting his other hand to cup your cheek. “I’m perfectly fine, just a few little bruises,” he tried to reassure you, but your worry was still clear across your face. “Hey, did I ever tell you that I love the way you're screaming my name?” He chuckled softly as you felt your face burn under his intense gaze. He knew he needed to avert your attention, wanting to sooth your worries.

“What?” You asked, stunned.

“The last thing I remember is your loud cheer as you screamed my name,” he smirked proudly, enjoying as you played with his hand in your embarrassed state.

“I cheer for everyone,” you added in a silent tone, trying to avert his suspicions.

“I wish you would cheer only for me,” he sighed as he looked away from you, his gaze now fixed on the ceiling. A confused expression sat across your face as you lifted your gaze and looked at him.

“What do you mean?” You asked, completely baffled by his reply. For a single moment you believed he meant more than he let on, but a reasonable part of your brain quickly shooed those thoughts away.

“I meant what I said,” he replied nonchalantly.

“I can’t just cheer for you. I have to cheer for the whole team so we can all win,” you explained with a confused frown across your brows.

“I know. And I know it’s wrong of me, but it makes me jealous,” he spoke with a soft grimace, earning a surprised gasp from you. “I honestly don’t know what else to do to get your attention. At this point I just got no shame. I shamelessly try to catch your eyes, but every time I feel like you are looking at me, you go and distance yourself,” he scoffed. Heaving a heavy sigh, he turned back to you. “Do you think you could ever look at me like a man and not someone who is part of your father’s quidditch team or a simple friend? Do you think you would be able to like me at one point?” He asked, his eyes desperately searching for confirmation, starting your heart off in a quick pace.

A tiny smile started spreading across your face before it grew into a large grin and a loud laughter erupted from your lungs, throwing your head back in the process. Oliver sat beside you, having mixed feelings about your reaction. “You fool,” you chuckled as your laughter started dying down. “You dumb man” you continued shaking your head as you stood up from your stool and leaned above his bed, cupping his face. “How could I not look at you as a man when I already do?” You giggled happily as you closed the gap between the two of you, capturing his lips with yours. For a moment both of you forgot where you were, you just enjoyed being closer to each other, before a healer appeared and loudly scolded you for your behaviour, forcing you to part as though you were still children.

“Well, that’s certainly not what I expected,” he chuckled playfully. “A couple more of these and I will feel brand new,” he grinned.

“I guess you will have to wait for that otherwise the healers will kick me out,” you giggled in content.

“Not happening,” he shook his head as he grabbed your arm and pulled you back to him, attaching his lips to yours halfway, earning a shaky moan from you. Luckily this time the healers didn’t catch you and within a couple of hours you were helping Oliver getting back to his flat.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

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Taglists are in reblog from now on

[faerune]

a kiss after treating a wound for vik x lux or a kiss on the forehead of one who is starting to fall asleep for daryl x tess? 😳

— a kiss on the forehead of one who is starting to fall asleep

pairing: daryl x tess warnings: tooth-rotting fluff but that's it

Daryl wasn’t surprised to find Tess curled on the couch waiting for him.

The lamp in the living room had been left on; the house was a warm, glowing beacon guiding him home through the dark streets of Alexandria.

It was common for him to find Tess waiting up; reading a book or taking care of the dishes before one of the others washed them in the morning. Daryl didn’t mention it. It wasn’t something that needed to be dwelled on because he too found that sleep evaded him when he hadn’t laid eyes on her.

Sometimes, he would wake in the middle of the night and watch the steady, slow rhythm of her breathing. Would gently tuck stray limbs back under blankets and place her forgotten book left haphazardly open on her stomach onto the bedside table. Then and only then would he be able to fall back asleep.

It wasn’t that they weren’t able to be without each other. Far from it. Their days often consisted of being away from each other, doing their own part in nurturing the community Alexandria was growing to be. It was a bit more painful when one of them ventured beyond the safe walls - out scavenging or trading with the other communities. Or often in Tess’ case attending to minor health problems of folks and checking in on livestock.

This time, Daryl had been the one away for a few days; escorting a caravan to Hilltop. It was mostly uneventful, only a handful of straggling walkers easily dispatched by a quiet knife or bolt. Just because an odd, unfamiliar quiet had settled over the area didn’t mean that they had grown sloppy or weak. Paranoia had simply been replaced by vigilance.

It certainly didn’t mean that they didn’t worry less when loved ones traversed beyond the safety of their walls.

What had surprised Daryl was that Tess was sound asleep. The position she had curled herself into was awkward and didn’t look very comfortable but it seemed like her long days had finally caught up with her. She was usually a light sleeper but even Daryl’s heavy booted footsteps nor the door opening and closing had stirred her.

A blanket was wrapped over her waist, her elbow resting on the arm of the couch to hold her head. No doubt if she slept like that for the rest of the night she’d get a crick in her neck from the awkward way it was positioned. Introduction to Emergency Medicine authored by a long slew of people with far too many letters attached to their names was hanging precariously by a thumb off the edge of her lap.

Daryl snuck over soundlessly and gently pulled it from her grasp, careful not to lose her page. He dog-eared the book and set it on the coffee table. His crossbow was set against the same table, forgotten as he tried to figure out how to gather Tess into his arms and carry her downstairs to bed. The thought of leaving her on the couch didn’t even cross his mind.

Daryl reached out and gently brushed his hand over Tess’ arm to stir her. She jumped slightly and blinked at him with bleary eyes. At the sight of him, a warm, sleepy smile danced across her face that soothed away the ache of guilt that burrowed in chest at her startle.

“Hey, what time is it?” she asked, sleep clearly still pulling at her eyelids. There was a little bit of dried drool on her cheek that she wiped off absently. Daryl had never loved someone more.

“Late. C’mon,” he told her, motioning for her to wrap her arms around his neck.

It was even more obvious how tired she was by the lack of protest. Instead, Tess looped her arms around his neck and heaved a heavy sigh against his neck as he slipped an arm under her knees and lifted her - blanket and all.

Daryl was glad for the silence of the house - their friends already asleep in their beds above them. It wasn’t that he wanted to hide his relationship with Tess but more so that he valued these small, private moments between them more than anything. The warmth of her body in his arms, the weight of her head against his shoulder as he carried her to the basement door and down the steps.

Tess was always very insistent on doing things herself, usually only taking Daryl’s small acts of service when taken by surprise. She was always grateful of course and Daryl was motivated each time but the sincerity of her smile and the way she looked at him. Soft, kind, loving, trusting. A look that made his heart well in his chest till he had to look away for fear of it bursting from fullness.

It made this more special. Daryl loved her for her independence, her bravery, her capabilities and that was why when she let him do this - take care of her - he knew the important weight of the act between them.

Daryl helped her wriggle out of her jeans, tossing them onto the floor where Tess would no doubt slip it into the hamper in the morning with the rest of their filthy clothes. For now, the warmth of the bed called to both of them. Daryl hadn’t realized how tired he was until Tess wriggled underneath the blankets and sheets of their bed and let out a happy sigh.

Satisfied, Daryl began to strip off his own clothes until he was just in his t-shirt and boxers.

Tess welcomed him into their bed with open, needy arms and when he settled next to her in the sheets she curled close to him. The two of them, side by side, facing each other in the dim moonlight. Tess’ eyes were already closed and she was already dozing off, sleep heavy in her voice.

“How did it go?” she mumbled, a lazy hand stroking over his bicep comfortingly. Not just for him but for herself as well. That he was here. Back. Safe.

“Fine,” he hummed, clearing his throat and shifting to get more comfortable. He laid a heavy arm over her waist atop the blankets. “Go to sleep.”

Tess let out a little half-hearted huff but fell silent for a moment.

In the darkness, her thumb rubbing a gentle arc against the skin of his shoulder she finally sighed, as if it was an afterthought too important to go unsaid, “I’m glad you’re home.”

Daryl felt like he was too big for his body. A corner of his mouth quirked up in the dark light of the room as Tess’ breathing settled into that steady breathing once more. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

He was glad too.

[buckyownsmylife]

daddy issues - chapter xiv

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N for this chapter: this chapter’s coming to you unedited because I am honestly emotionally exhausted and the only reason I even got this done is because “playing” with these two makes me happy. So yeah, I’m officially stretching the story a bit more (next chapter is the one I’ve been referring to for a while) and after it we’ll be pretty close to the end!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Ransom had been a weird mixture of nervous and excited ever since he picked me up from work after visiting his grandfather. I knew they had a good relationship - from what I gathered, it was the only truly peaceful relationship he kept with his entire family - so I didn’t understand what the anxiety was about until he admitted, almost blurting out, “He asked me to visit the publishing house with him tomorrow.”

It was impossible to contain my smile. “That’s great, honey! He really does trust you, huh?” But Ransom didn’t even nod, just kept looking at me with eyes filled with a heavy emotion I couldn’t name, so I tried to occupy myself with other stuff.

“What time are you leaving? Do you want me to book a car to take me to university or will you still be able to give you a ride?” When he didn’t immediately answer me, I raised my gaze from the pile of essays in my hands to check on him, and the moment our eyes met, he seemed to snap out of whatever it was that was keeping him immobilized.

“No, I should be able to take you. Don’t worry about it.” I wasn’t worried, but I knew Ransom enough by now to be aware that he wouldn’t relent, not wanting me to go to my workplace without him, so I just smiled.

“Okay, babe.” The petname escaped my lips so easily, I froze when my own ears processed it, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Out of the corner of my eye, I could still see Ransom’s frame paralyzed where I had left him, so I just focused on my work and pretended like nothing different had happened.

“I should be up in a minute.” I tried to act as nonchalant as possible. I didn’t look at him again, but I saw him nod from my peripheral vision before turning around and leaving towards the staircase, allowing me to breathe deeply again. What the hell was going on with me?

Ransom’s P.O.V.

She never came to bed when she did decide to call it a night. Well, she did stop by my bedroom, but chose to remain by the threshold until I caught sight of her figure, and when our eyes met, she smiled and wished me a good night.

I sighed when I realized that I was going to have to sleep alone. I didn’t like that, I didn’t want it. But there was nothing I could really do about it. She wasn’t my girlfriend, she was just the mother of my baby. At least to her own eyes.

Having her so close and then seeing her pull away was tearing at my heart, which is why when I got up in the morning to find her in the kitchen, breakfast already made while a packet waited next to my plate, I felt like I would physically melt.

“What is this?” I asked, already reaching out for it. I opened and checked to find a few sandwiches - homemade - before she could confirm what my eyes were seeing, but I was still struggling to process.

“I-I fixed you a lunch bag. I don’t know how long it’s going to be with your grandpa, didn’t want you to starve.” I just stared at her, unblinking, while this warm feeling spread over my chest, even turning me on.

Because I understood what this was. I understood what she meant by this. This was her, recognizing she had taken two steps back yesterday, and compensating with a gesture that moved us even closer to where I hoped to take us.

My heartbeat picked up at the realization that she did want something more. She did, she just needed time to adjust. And I could give her that - I could keep giving her that, just as long as we kept moving forward.

“It’s okay if you don’t want it.” I’d taken too long to answer, she had approached me quickly to snatch the bag from my grasp. “It’s stupid anyway.” I stopped her, both hands on her waist before she could fully turn around.

“No, give me it!” I know it sounded whiney, but I didn’t want to risk being without my lunch bag. Once it was in the safety of my hands, I put it to the side for just enough time to cradle her face and force her to take in what I had to say. “Don’t you ever say anything you did for me is stupid. I’m not used to having people do things for me because they thing I’d like or need them. This means everything to me.”

The soft smile she gave me, the way her eyes looked up at me from under her eyelashes had me feeling like I was on a rollercoaster and the fall had just begun. I suppose, in many ways, it already had.

The little gesture didn’t leave my mind the entire day. I caught myself smiling at nothing, becoming easily distracted while Harlan tried to explain something about the presses to me, but every time I ran a hand over my face and apologized, he just gave me a knowing smile.

I didn’t even feel embarrassed about it. I was almost proud, really. I had spent an entire life having to pay for what I needed - and I did it, unashamedly so. And now there was this incredible woman who wanted to take care of me. I could barely believe it.

I couldn’t believe that this woman that I didn’t even know a few months ago was now everything I thought of, everything I wanted in life.

Everything was going well, too well. I should have known it was only a matter of time until something ruined it.

I first noticed it because Harlan’s face suddenly fell when he raised his gaze to meet mine, instead settling on something over my shoulder. When I turned around, I quickly understood why.

It was my mom, and by the way she marched in our direction, she clearly wasn’t here to do anything cheerful.

“Was I supposed to know about you having a baby through my own father?” I cringed, even visibly flinched at the knowledge that she now knew about my kid. “Have you no respect for your mother?”

My snicker said everything she needed to know, and when she raised a finger to shake it on my face, it took Harlan to control us both. “Okay, alright, that’s it. This is still my place of work, an extension of my house, I won’t have you two disrespecting it’s sanctity.”

I huffed, adjusting my coat as I turned my back on her to focus on my grandfather again. He was the reason why I was there, and the only reason why I didn’t just leave upon seeing my mother.

“Now, Linda, if Ransom didn’t tell you about something this important in his life, there must be a reason for it. What do you think it is?” My mother turned her face from her own father, seeming particularly interested on her own high heel shoes now. We both knew she wouldn’t relent, so with a sigh, Harlan met my eyes, silently asking me to be the bigger person here - I knew.

“How about this, I’ve been meaning to have you all for dinner for a while, it’s been a long time since the family gathered for anything other than a holiday. Is Friday good for both of you? You can bring the girl, if you want.” That last part was directed to me specifically, making my eyes widen. I could only imagine what she would say if I suggested a family dinner with my entire family, especially considering everything I had told her about them - and why I wasn’t excited to tell them about the baby in the slightest.

“I’ll see, but she might be busy.” My mother snickered, making me narrow my eyes at her, thinking about a very important reassurance I needed to get before I even considering attending that dinner. “If I do end up bringing her, I don’t want to see any of you all treating her as anything less than a princess, is that understood?”

Of course, Harlan knew I was speaking more to my mother than to him, and that I expected the message to be extended to the rest of the family before Friday rolled around, but seeing as my mother was still brushing her already perfectly clean skirt, he was the one to answer.

“Of course, Ransom. We’re all excited to meet her, she’s a welcome guest in my house.” The warning was there for the both of us. And even though it was my mother that would need to keep that in mind, I already knew I was the one who would end up leaving the only place outside my house where I felt safe because as long as she was there, there was no way I’d feel okay.

[svnflowervol666]

Ma Petite Chérie: Christmas Now (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Read more from this little universe, Ma Petite Chérie, in my masterlist!

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Their first Christmas as a family of four. Underwhelming gifts, naughty kitchen counter shenanigans, being suspicious of Santa Claus, baby kissies, oat milk. 

Author’s Note: Baby bub is here! I’ve been so excited to finally be able to write about them, and I’m even more excited that you all get to read about them! This is the second part of my Christmas bits for this year. Unlike the last one, this one is obnoxiously adorable and no where near as upsetting (I really hurt my own feelings with that one). Reblogs, likes, tags, and feedback of any kind is always greatly appreciated! If you don’t see me before the year is up, I want to wish you a Happy New Year! Enjoy, take care, and tpwk.

“Two.”

“No. One.”

“Two.”

“One.”

“Four.”

“Now that’s just bein’ greedy,” Harry spoke in a wounded tone with his brows furrowed together as if he were genuinely offended.

“But if Santa’s coming tonight and bringing more presents, why can’t I open these ones right now?”

Tallulah was on her knees in front of the sofa, fingers laced together with her chin resting on top of them. She was quite literally begging her father, who sat above her with one leg crossed over the other and an arm slung around his wife, to allow her to open the gifts that were prematurely nestled underneath the festive fir tree in their living room. Well, they weren’t married yet, but Harry couldn’t help that he preferred how the word felt rolling off of his tongue than “fiance.”

“Because they’re Christmas presents,” he stressed.

“Makes no sense t’ open them the day before.”

His freshly six-year-old daughter clearly didn’t like that answer - the pouty jut on her lip and subsequent huff told Harry all he needed to know.

“I already told ya, sweet pea. You can open one tonight. That’s it. The rest are for tomorrow.”

“Fiiiiiine,” the small girl said, although it was implied in her tone that it very much was not.

Tallulah hobbled over to the tree whilst still on her knees, and began riffling through the small litter of perfectly wrapped boxes to inspect which one would elicit the most satisfaction on her end. She seemed keen on a rather large one, decorated with tartan print and a red gift tag that read, “To: Lulah, From: Daddy & Mummy.” What she hadn’t realized, though, was that Harry had already made the selection for her. 

“Not tha’ one,” Harry reprimanded over the steaming mug of coffee in the hand that wasn’t rubbing circles on Y/N’s shoulder.

He typically strayed away from caffeine this late in the evening, but he knew he was in for a long night of waiting up until Tallulah was fast asleep so he could take on the role of Santa and deliver all of the gifts he had promised her for being good enough to make an appearance on the Nice List. Knowing how much shit he had packed in his office that stayed locked this time of year, he really wasn’t sure how he was going to do it successfully.

Another exasperated sigh left his eldest child’s lips, to which she replied, “But this one’s the biggest.”

“But it’s not the one we want yeh t’ open, Lulah. ‘S the one with polar bears on it,” Harry stated, though not with full confidence.

“It is the one with polar bears on it, right?” he whispered to Y/N.

This earned a laugh from Y/N, who muttered a quiet, “Yes,” in return. She laid her head in the crook of Harry’s neck, basking in the warmth that radiated from his body. He smelled like cinnamon and the nutmeg-flavored coffee beans he’d ground up just a few minutes before, and maybe a hint like baby barf.

Tallulah scavenged the space under the tree like a predator hunting its prey - all on the lookout for the present fitting the description Harry had given her. Harry and Y/N found themselves thoroughly entertained by watching her overturn almost every gift, and shared a similar giggle when she narrowed in on the box in question before letting out a victorious, “Aha!” into the room only lit by a firelog in the chimney.

“Grab the one for Olive too, please. Don’t want her feelin’ left out,” Harry called out to Talulah. 

“Okay, daddy!”

Her small arms stretched to the limit, trying to grab both packages without toppling over onto the others. Tallulah noted that they both felt the exact same underneath the wrapping paper, only her baby sister’s was much smaller than the one addressed to her.

“They feel like clothes,” Tallulah stated matter-of-factly as she took back her place on the floor with both presents in hand.

Harry sighed, leaning down to rest his mug near his feet against the sofa.

“Good grief. Just open it, will yeh?”

She needed no further instruction. Her fingers dug into the paper, piercing it with her nails and ruining the pastel blue parchment that was covered in dozens of cartoon polar bears partaking in various yoga poses. When Tallulah was able to tear the gift away from its wrapping, her hands grasped something soft.

“It’s....pajamas.”

Her tone was flat and unamused. Harry sensed her disappointment, though in his heart he certainly felt like he’d done a great job concocting his plan to have her open this particular gift on Christmas Eve.

“Yeah, but they’re Christmas pajamas. Don’t yeh want t’ look nice when Santa comes to visit tonight?”

This seemed to...disturb Tallulah. That was really the only way to describe how she looked at her dad - with her eyebrows scrunched up and her normally-plush lips pressed together in a thin line.

“...He’s gonna come in my room when I’m sleeping?”

Y/N hadn’t meant to, but a loud cackle erupted from her chest, which jostled the four-month-old baby girl that had the beginnings of sleepiness settling into her body. In contrast to the laugh from Y/N, Olive let out the tiniest of shrills, obviously upset that her mother had interupted the peacefulness she’d felt whilst being curled up against her chest.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, bubby,” Y/N cooed quitely, quickly moving to pat her daughter’s bum and comfort her.

“Mummy didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

Y/N pressed a quick kiss to the sparse tufts of hair atop Olive’s head before returning her attention back to Tallulah.

“Lulah, I promise you that Santa will not come in your room while you’re sleeping. What your dad means,” she snuck a glance in Harry’s direction in which he smirked back at her, “Is that you want to look nice on Christmas morning, don’t you? You know Nana’s gonna take a thousand pictures of you and Olive tomorrow, so now you don’t have to change when she gets here, yeah?”

Tallulah nodded, though it didn’t do much to lift her spirits. She fumbled the cream-colored thermal set adorned with gold stars between her fingers, the motion she was always somehow doing whether it be to her dad’s t-shirt while she laid next to him during a movie, Y/N’s lotus pendant when she was smaller and could fit on her chest, or otherwise.

“Plus,” Y/N added, a hint of irony in her voice, “I’d imagine the presents Santa’s going to bring you are much less boring than this.”

They shared a knowing smile, Tallulah’s cheeks growing rosey and her eyes twinkling at the mention of the magical, bearded man.

“I’m offended,” Harry scoffed.

“Really thought those pajamas were proper cute.”

“They are cute, daddy!” Tallulah chimed in, “I like them a lot. Thank you.”

It appeared that the young girl had realized her moping about not receiving the nail polish kit she’d asked for didn’t do her any good. And whether Harry was joking about being upset or not, she’d never want to hurt her dad’s feelings. He’d raised her too kindly to do otherwise.

“You’re welcome, bug,” Harry smiled at her.

“Let’s help Olive open hers, yeah?”

“I bet it’s pajamas,” Tallulah mumbled under her breath.

That earned her a light tug on one of her two braided plaits on her head from Harry. The two of them chuckled at each other, their faces almost looking like identical portraits of each other.

“Humor me for a second then, Lulah. ‘S your sister’s first Christmas.”

Tallulah scoots over on the floor to stand on her knees, this time by Y/N’s legs as she turned Olive around to sit up straight in her lap. Olive, who was once determined to fall asleep right there on the couch beside her mum and dad, was now awake and had taken an interest in the crinkling sound of the wrapping paper on the gift her big sister placed on top of her chunky thighs.

“Here, Livvy,” Tallulah cooed, “You tear it like this.”

She tried to show Olive how to tear away the present by ripping it halfway open, but her effort proved to be unsuccessful the second Olive managed to get her fingers around a scrap of paper and immediately placed it in her mouth. It appeared that Olive was much more interested in the gift wrap than she was her early Christmas present.

“Well, there goes that,” Harry said as he fetched the then soggy parchment from his infant daughter’s lips, making somewhat of a disgusted face as he wiped the excess drool on the leg of his pants.

Tallulah takes the honor of opening Olive’s present for her, and is unable to stop herself from rolling her eyes when her eyes meet a set of thermal pajamas like the ones she’d just received herself, only Olive’s were green with tiny, silver stars. She’d parted her lips to make an undoubtedly flippant comment, but Harry cut her off before she even had the chance to mutter the first syllable.

“Don’t do it, stink head,” Harry quipped, reaching for the discarded paper that was scattered on the rug beneath him so he could put it in the bin later.

“How about you go put on your lovely new pajamas so we can get everything set up f’ Santa to come, alright?”

“Okayyyyyy,” the small girl grumbled before snatching the thermal set from the floor and darting off to her room.

“That didn’t really go the way I hoped,” Harry mumbled as he reached over to take Olive from Y/N.

“It’s Christmas, baby,” Y/N reminded him.

“Kids want toys, not pajamas.”

“Yeah but,” Harry focused his attention at worming the tight-fitting pajamas up his baby girl’s abnormally chubby legs.

“’S what mum used t’ do for us when we were little. Always got pajamas on Christmas Eve. Figured it’d be nice t’ do it for the girls, too.”

“It is sweet, Harry. Just wouldn’t expect a six-year-old to be that enthused about it,” Y/N snickered.

Harry hummed in agreement, his tongue poked out as he fed Olive’s arm into the tight sleeve of her top, struggling a bit to get her balled up fist through the other side.

“Ahh, there we go. Thank god ya only have t’ wear these tomorrow, Chunk. They’ll be too snug by next week.”

“Leave my fat baby alone,” Y/N scolded.

“There’s nothing wrong with being well fed,” she added, leaning over to lightly pinch on her daughter’s round tummy in an attempt to get her to smile at her.

A gummy grin took over Olive’s features at the sight of her mother, a true mummy’s girl at heart. She was much like Tallulah in many ways, but so different at the same time. Olive was still nearly bald, whereas Tallulah’s hair grew like a sprout when she was Olive’s age. Tallulah had always been teeny tiny, no doubt due to her premature birth, and Olive clearly made up in weight for what Tallulah lacked when she was a baby. They both loved cuddles with Harry and listening to the sound of his voice as they fell asleep, but it always puzzled him when Olive didn’t respond to some of his antics in the way that Tallulah had. 

“‘M not bein’ mean. I’d jump on the chance to suck on your tits all day if I could, too.”

“Har-” Y/N began to reprimand him about how she can’t say that because there are little ears in the room, but was stopped short.

“I’m back! Can we set out the cookies now?”

Tallulah breathed heavily as if she just sprinted a marathon into the living room. 

“Sure can,” Harry responded.

“Come tell Livvy good night first, though. Mummy’s gotta feed her and put her t’ bed.”

She smiled at the mention of her little sister, whom she was always keeping at an arm’s reach. If Tallulah was awake, she was in the same room as Olive. It made Harry’s heart ache in the best way to watch the two of them interact with each other. The feeling he felt when he first saw Olive in Tallulah’s arms at the hospital never subsided. He was absolutely besotted for his girls.

“Bonne nuit, ma petite soeur,” Tallulah whispered to Olive, reaching down to hug her sister and kiss the crown of her head, which she happily accepted in the form of weaving her pudgy fingers into Tallulah’s braids and pulling them rather harshly.

Before he handed her off to Y/N to be fed and put down for the night, he gave Olive a kiss of his own.

“Bonne nuit, ma petite chérie.”

//

“‘How do you know Santa likes oat milk? Did he tell you that? Luna at school told me he likes chocolate almond milk.’ What kinda shit is that?!” Harry exclaimed with a mouth full of sugar cookie and in the quietest voice he could muster.

He’d just spent the last hour with Y/N, silently digging Tallulah’s gifts from Santa out of his office and placing them underneath the tree. Thankfully, he hadn’t tripped over his own feet and woken her up or else he would have cried right there on the spot.

All Y/N could do was giggle back at him from where she sat on top of the counter, bare legs swinging as she had a mouthful of the very same oat milk in question swishing in her mouth.

“She’s asking too many questions n’ I don’t like it one bit.”

“Think she’s just growing up, babe. The magic doesn’t last forever. She’s about at that age. Probably only have one or two more Christmases before she figures it out.”

Harry stared at the remaining half of the frosted cookie Tallulah left for Santa in his palm, eyes quiet and sullen.

“Don’t like that one bit, either,” he muttered.

“I know you don’t, bubby,” Y/N cooed, pulling Harry into her so he stood between her parted legs on the countertop.

“But you’ve still got Olive.”

He seemed to perk up at that, looking up at her through thick lashes with a smirk.

“Just Olive? We stoppin’ there?”

“I mean,” Y/N pursed her lips.

“Wouldn’t mind trying for a boy.”

Harry placed his hands on either side of her thighs, stroking her skin with his thumbs.

“Might not happen on the first go, though,” he tisked.

“Could take havin’ a few more for that t’ happen. Yeh alright with that?”

“As long as you’re not tired of me by then, then sure,” Y/N jested.

“’M never gonna be tired of you.”

He leaned in close to her, touching his forehead to hers. He was a split second away from kissing her, but then Y/N spoke up again.

“Harry,” she called out.

“Hmm,” Harry’s voice oozed with desire and darkness beginning to turn his eyes a deep shade of juniper.

“Can I please have a bite of your cookie?”

He softly bumped his forehead against hers as they both broke out into a fit of chuckles.

“Allumeuse,” Harry uttered, raising the sickeningly sweet cookie to her lips.

She chewed the baked good tantilizingly slow, making a scene of rolling her eyes back and moaning as if the taste was euphoric.

“Tu aimes ça,” she snided.

“Je fais.”

The two sat in silence after that, finishing up what was left of the small plate of sweets Tallulah had left by the chimney. It wasn’t often that the house was this quiet. Normally, there was a crying Olive to attend to or a needy Tallulah begging for one of them to get more paper out of Harry’s office printer so she could draw pictures of the plants in their garden out back. It would have been eerie, had the multi-colored lights from their Christmas tree not illuminated the majority of their open living space. The twinkling bulbs brought a sense of peacefulness about them. Maybe it was the season, or maybe it was because they’d been feeling so grateful for their small family as of late.

“Honey,” Harry broke the silence.

“What?” she looked up from where she’d been fussing with the hem of her shorts decorated with tiny snowflakes.

“Yeh got a little,” he gestured to her mouth before bringing his thumb to the corner of Y/N’s mouth.

Harry swiped a rogue dollop of blue frosting that rested there and pressed it onto her tongue. She wrapped her lips around his digit, sucking lightly to remove the sticky icing from his skin. Her eyes met his, not once straying as he applied just the slightest bit more of pressure with his thumb. He noted the way her breathing slowed and how she gently shuddered when he tightened the grip of her jaw with the rest of his fingers.

“So pretty,” he purred, marveling at the sight in front of him.

God, how Harry wished it weren’t just his finger resting on the soft, welcoming warmth of her tongue.

Y/N slid off his thumb with a calculated pop of her lips, licking them to ensure she’d rid herself completely of any stray crumbs.

“Kissy?” she posed, smirking.

“I’d be pretty rotten if I said no,” Harry replied before pressing his mouth against hers.

She wrapped her arms around him, forcing him to stand flush against the counter and even closer to her body. He teased her with this tongue, gliding it along the plush skin of the inside of her lip. Y/N welcomed him and parted her lips enough for Harry to get through. Both of them taste the saccharine remnants of the cookies they’d shared, and soon all that’s heard in the house are the suckling noises and heavy pants coming from Harry and Y/N. It’s not loud enough to be a disturbance, but it’s just enough to have them both yearning for more.

“Talk t’ me, lapine,” Harry broke away from her for long enough to mumble one sentence, still pressed against her lips.

“Tell me what yeh want.”

“Want you,” Y/N said in a shaky exhale, chasing Harry’s mouth to reconnect with her own.

“Yeah?” he taunted.

“Want me right here in the kitchen?”

“Ideally, no. But I wouldn’t stop you.”

She parted her legs even wider, attempting to rut against the thick fabric of Harry’s fleece sweatpants. Her center met something stiff and Harry pulled her even closer by the flesh of both bum cheeks, massaging them with his massive palms in a manner that he knew drove her mad.

“That’d be pretty naughty of us, wouldn’t it? Not sure if Santa would approve of that one.”

Before she’s given a chance to respond, Harry snuck his hand between their thighs and began softly petting Y/N over her shorts. Her head fell back in pleasure, temporarily detaching her lips from Harry’s. She knows she can’t make a single sound or else she’ll wake up the entire house so she just sits there with her brows furrowed, silently gasping and letting these sweet, broken moans spill from her throat that spur Harry on even further.

“Can feel you even through your fuckin’ shorts, Y/N,” he grunted, slowing grinding against his own palm that was the only thing separating him from her heat.

This time, it’s Y/N that reached between them, feeling for the stifness that lies between his legs. She wraps her fingers around him through his sweatpants, leisurely tugging at his cock. Harry’s all but forced to begin sucking on the sensitive skin of her neck to keep himself from crying out at the contact, working at blossoming deep lilac and mulberry colored bruises there.

“Bet you could cum just like this, couldn’t you?” he muffles into her collarbone.

Y/N hummed, crossing her legs around Harry’s back as he began to focus his attention to rubbing her clit over the material of her shorts.

“Bet you could too,” she whined.

“’S that what you want, hm? Want me t’ make you cum without even touchin’ you right?”

“‘M not gonna have a choice if you don’t do something else pretty soon.”

She sped up the work she’s doing near Harry’s crotch, paying mind to what she can make of his tip between his boxers. With her thumb, she rubbed expert circles around him, massaging him in the way that he’s doing to her. Both of them could feel it, the slow build up of pressure deep in their abdomen - a coil winding tighter and tight with the threat of snapping.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N.”

He was biting her neck now, completely consumed by the feeling of both the damp patch seeping through Y/N’s shorts and onto his fingers and the precum dripping onto her more delicate ones through his sweatpants.

In an attempt to not embarass himself like a horny teenager, Harry withdrew his hand from in between her thighs and places it around her bum all in the same breath. Y/N sighed defeatedly at the loss of friction against the place she needed it most, dropping her head into Harry’s shoulder and whining rather noisily. Before she even has the chance to curse him for stopping, he scooped her off the counter with all of his strength and began walking both of them to their bedroom so he could fuck her properly.

Their lips detach when Harry drops her onto the bed and a woosh of air leaves the down comforter, causing the hem of Y/N’s top to fly up and expose her tummy. She still wore the deep, almost-metallic stretch marks she’d acquired when she was pregnant with Olive, but it wasn’t with shame. Her and Harry had a talk not that long ago about how much he loved them because it reminded him of how much he cherished watching his baby girl grow before she made her grand, earthside appearance. She’d not mentioned the slightest bit of disdain for them after that.

Just as Harry tugged his jumper over his head and threw it off somewhere that he’d worry about in the morning, his eyes caught the digital clock that rested on the wooden night stand on his side of the bed.

“’S past midnight,” he said with a lopsided grin, climbing on top of the girl he vowed to spend his last dying breath beside.

“Yeah?” Y/N asked, for the life of her unable to understand why that was relevant when just minutes ago, he was rutting into her hands and aching for release.

“Yeah,” Harry smiled against her lips.

He pulled up once more to add, “Happy Christmas.”

She had half the mind to smack him, but all she did was shake her head and smile.

“Happy Christmas, Harry. Will you please fuck me now?”

“Think I can manage that.”

It was the first of many Christmas presents for Y/N.

[daydreaming-in-letters]

School Prize Night

(A Good night, Mr Cavill Sequel)

Part 1 - Through my eyes

07/07/2021

Pairing: teacher!Henry Cavill x plus-size teacher!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 2,531

Warnings: rpf, body issues, self-loathing, angst, sexual innuendos, comforting, fluff, Henry being the sweetest boyfriend a (plus-size) girl could ask for

Summary: It's School Prize Night at Miss Y/L/N and Mr Cavill's school. But as she is getting ready for the event, she finds it impossible to accept her reflection in the mirror.

A/N: As I already feared, this dream of a man simply refuses to leave my thoughts. And so I used the first day of the summer holidays to come up with a four part sequel to Good night, Mr Cavill. So here is the first part. I'm afraid it has become a little angsty, but I promise to make it up to you with a lot of teasing and passion in the other parts.

Picture found on Pinterest

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

For a long time she had been wondering what to say whenever someone asked her what her special talent was. Now she knew, pinching her paunch harshly between her fingers until it formed a prominent, round bulge. Self-loathing. That’s what she was good at. A profession she had perfected over the last years.

And as if to prove her point, half the contents of her wardrobe lay scattered around her feet, mocking her with all their colourful beauty that magically turned into hideous abominations as soon as they covered her form. If she didn’t know any better, she would let herself believe that she was somehow cursed—a gorgeous princess trapped inside the body of a manatee. But sadly it wasn’t that simple and instead of an evil witch she could only blame herself for the reflection she saw in the mirror.

Giving herself another once over, she actually considered covering her eyes to spare herself the view, when thankfully her eyes seemed to have mercy on her tortured soul and salty tears began to blur her vision. Too late, as she noticed. The gears of self-hate had already started to turn and once they were in motion, nothing could stop them, pulling her deeper and deeper into the darkness.

She hardly realised that her whole body was trembling by now, her knees finally giving out underneath the weight of the world that pressed down upon her shoulders, making her sink onto the plush carpet with a heartbroken sob while the world around her fell away.

“Darling?” The familiar voice came from somewhere down the hallway, but she couldn’t hear it in the state she was in. “Do you have any idea how to tie a decent Windsor knot? I’ve watched this stupid video about a million times by now and I just can’t seem to—“

His heart almost stopped beating as he stepped into the bedroom, his eyes immediately falling onto the pitiful picture of misery that used to be his girlfriend, crumbled into a tight package in front of the mirror.

“Y/N?” But instead of an answer there just came another soul shaking sob from the huddled creature and he didn’t waste another second to get over to her. “Whatever is the matter, love?” His voice was warm and soothing as he squatted down beside her, but it was still not enough to break through to her. Desperate to find a clue as to what might have caused her distress, he took in the setting and when his eyes finally landed on the pile of clothes that surrounded her devastated form, he suddenly understood.

With a sigh he sat down beside her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug before he pulled her onto his lap. “Sh, darling. Don’t cry,” he cooed, rocking her in his arms like a child. Slowly his hand drifted across her hair, as if his touch could just stroke her pain away, his lips tenderly pressing down on the crown of her head, before his cheek finally came to rest there.

“Well, what else am I supposed to do,” she croaked hoarsely, and the only thing that pained him more than the agony in her voice were her next words, “considering that you will leave me someday soon.”

He knew that it was only her insecurity speaking and yet he felt a bit slighted that she still couldn’t fully believe his feelings for her were nothing but true.

“Now why would I do that?” he muttered into her hair as calmly as he could, “I love you, Y/N, and as long as you don’t want me to, I’m not going anywhere.”

Something about his words must have finally gotten through to her as he could feel the sobs die away bit by bit and he was almost positive that he would find a small smile on her face when she wriggled out of his embrace, but to his surprise he was met with a pair of defiant eyes.

“How can you be so sure of that? It’s only been three months, Hen. That’s probably just the hormones talking, and once they’re back to their normal levels, you’ll finally see the real me. And I can’t blame you if you want to run as soon as you realise what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Hey!” he barked, his hands clutching her face in a firm grip to make her look at him. “You know how much I hate when you talk about yourself like that.”

“Yeah, well, I guess it’s easier to love yourself when one looks like you,” she spat and he regretted his harsh words instantly as he saw the tears that were threatening to fall again.

“Oh, no, darling. No, no, no. This is not about me and my body image, it’s about you.” He sighed again, his jaw clenching dangerously and he needed to close his eyes for a second to force his anger back down to its source. “I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to see yourself the way I do, maybe not, but that doesn’t give you the right to question the way I feel for you. You see, just because it’s hard for you to love yourself, doesn’t mean it’s hard for me as well.”

And there they were, the tears that had been threatening to fall again, streaming down her cheeks freely now. “I’m so sorry, Hen. I should never have—“

“You bloody well shouldn’t have,” he said sternly, but then his eyes softened like they always did whenever he looked at her and he pulled her closer to press his lips to her forehead in a symbol of forgiveness.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, her head fell down onto his shoulder and she nuzzled his warm skin affectionately. “Ugh, I’m such a mess,” she mumbled, and he could feel her lips move against his skin.

“No, you’re not, darling. Like so many, you’ve been traumatised by an ideal created by the media and greedy companies, telling you to constantly chase after their standard of beauty instead of focusing on those things that truly matter.”

For a moment, a deafening silence settled between them, but he knew she simply needed a while to think about his words. And just when he could feel the uneasiness of doubt crawl from the pit of his stomach, she sighed, a deep sound of realisation that soothed his worry.

“I guess you’re right,” her muffled voice came to his ears from the crook of his neck. “You always are. Perfect idiot.”

Her little remark coaxed an amused chuckle from his chest and he could feel her body tremble in his arms from the vibration. But when his face fell upon their reflection in the mirror, the short moment of lightness suddenly died away and he wished with all his heart that just once he could give her his eyes before he would lift her around her body so she could feel what he felt whenever he looked at her. Grasp the reason why he loved her so much and why he never wanted to look at anyone else for the rest of his days. If only—

Silently he signalled it was time for them to get up and as soon as he stood, he offered her his hand and pulled her up against his chest. Colliding softly with his firm pecs, she could feel his lips brush against her ear, his deep voice causing a shiver to run across her skin.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, his hands drifting over the small of her back and down to her full cheeks, squeezing them reassuringly.

“Of course I do.”

“Then close your eyes.”

And so she did, without hesitation. Slowly she could feel his hands glide up her body again, stopping at her waist when he ordered, “Now turn around.”

His strong hands guided her as she carefully obeyed his wish again and she could feel his hot palms come to rest on her stomach, her back securely leant against his chest.

“Hold out your hands, sweetheart, palms facing upwards,” he demanded, and she wasn’t sure what exactly caused the heat to pulse through her nether regions, his hot breath that fanned across her shoulder, the authority in his voice, or the enticing combination of both. She had no idea what he was up to, but she couldn’t help the slight pang she felt when his hands suddenly left her body. He must have picked up on the little twitch of her lips before she could stop herself from pouting, judging from the triumphant chuckle that made his chest quake. Cocksure bastard.

But then she could feel his touch again, his fingers gently gliding along her forearm until his hands pushed underneath hers.

“Let me show you something, darling.” And as if the dark timbre of his voice would actually leave her a choice but to let him take over from here, his lips ghosted across the sensitive spot of her neck to ensure her compliance.

She was still trying to concentrate again when she felt something squishy and warm underneath her fingertips and it actually took her a second to realise that he had brought their joined hands to her belly. On reflex, she tried to pull away, but his grip on her tightened to hold her back.

“No,” he growled, his lips close to her ear again. “I want you to feel yourself, to try and see yourself through my eyes. Just a few minutes, that’s all I ask.” But still he didn’t proceed until he could feel her resistance melt away. “Can you feel how soft your belly is? So velvety smooth, it’s practically inviting you to touch it, to caress it, to relish in its malleability. Mmmh, so wonderfully soft,” he moaned his appreciation, making her insides tingle pleasantly.

“And here, can you feel this?” He guided her hands towards her hips, pressing her fingertips into the supple flesh. Slowly moving back and forth, she could make out the small ripples he had probably wanted her to notice. “I know you hate your stretch marks, but whoever decided to call them that probably had no idea what they truly are.” He made a short pause to emphasise his next words. “They’re tiger stripes. And you earned them all on your way to becoming the strong tigress you are. So be proud of them.”

She had wanted to protest when his lips pressed lovingly to her temple, a gesture that always made her soft for him, and her will to speak up against his sugarcoating of her flaws fizzled out.

“Mmmmmh,” he sighed again, as he lead her hands to her rear, “now let’s come to one of my favourites.” Slowly he made her hands move in circles across her behind, as if this was necessary to help her visualise the incredible magnitude of her butt. And to top it all off, the absence of her visual sense seemed to further enhance the depths of the dips and dents that coated its surface.

“It’s not only the luxurious lushness of your behind that compels me to run my hands along it as often as I can and squeeze it tightly. No.” He growled lowly again, his teeth sinking into her shoulder as he made her fingers dig into her cheeks and this time she found it impossible to hold back a moan. “I wish you could see the way it jiggles and quivers with every thrust of my hips when I take you from behind. It’s magnificent.”

“Oh God, Henry,” she mewled when she could feel the treacherous wetness pool between her legs, soaking her panties in an instant. She wanted to pull away again, but this time to spin around and press her body against his while her lips devoured his filthy mouth before it could drive her completely insane with need. And yet again, Henry was stronger, securing her in her current position for just a little longer.

“I see you’re starting to get the point of this whole exercise. Good for you, darling.”

“Henry, please,” his teasing made her whine, as it always did, and she almost missed how he hooked her fingers underneath the straps of her bra to peel away the obstructive lace.

“Sh, don’t fuss. This is the best part, I promise.”

And with that he closed her hands around her voluptuous breasts, massaging them tenderly. “Did I promise too much? This really is the good stuff, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve ever held anything as fluffy as these two delights in my hands. I still remember the way they moved to the rhythm of our lovemaking that first night. So enchanting. But you know what is even better?” he asked, his head dipping down to nuzzle her neck yearningly. “To rest my head upon your chest after we both came undone. I love to be embedded by this softness while I can listen to your heartbeat. There is something so utterly bewitching about witnessing how it slowly calms down after I made you touch the sky.”

Without thinking twice her eyes flew open, just in time to catch a glimpse of all the affection his heart held for her as it reflected so openly in his blue eyes.

“Oh Hen!” And finally he didn’t hold her back when she tried to spin around, cupping his stubbly cheeks gently in her hands. “I love you so much.”

And without giving him the chance to answer, her lips found his, moving with them until she didn’t know anymore where she ended and he began. Her head still spinning slightly, she broke away, their heavy pants the only noise that filled the silence for a while.

“And I love you.” A beaming smile curled his lips, passing on to hers while it slowly set her on fire. “Even the parts you despise. Maybe I love them the most. And I will not stop loving them for the both of us until you can love them too.”

She didn’t know what she could have possibly replied to that. He was right, it was still a long way to go. There would always be difficult times. After all, self-love wasn’t a permanent state she would be in for good once it was reached. She rather saw it as a concept, an idea she would possibly never reach in her life, but at least she could count on him to be there and help her see through his eyes whenever she was struggling.

“Now, can I make a suggestion regarding your outfit?” he derailed her train of thought. “Take the white summer dress with the pink peonies I love so much. You know how great your ass looks in that, don’t you?” He smirked while, once again, his fingers dug into her behind.

“So you keep telling me, Hen.”

“Because it’s true.” His lips briefly brushed over the tip of her nose. “And it will remind me all night long of all the things I’m going to do to you as soon as we get back here.”

Part 2

***

Tag List: please let me know if you want to be removed or added by either ask or DM - thank you!

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[thran-duils]

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.4)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Four) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 2,944 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: If you don’t like the tags on this fic, just a warning to stop reading because it’s taking the turn that was mentioned all up in the tags

Part Three || Part Five || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

It had barely been a week and a half and Steve was already calling you. They’d sent you flowers twice and sent Tatiana a check to give to you. But apparently giving you the time you thought you needed was not on their docket.

You answered happily though, “Hey.”

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Far better than the last time you saw me. I can guarantee that. But I still don’t look my best.”

“That’s perfectly okay, Y/N. Understandable that you aren’t completely healed up yet,” Steve said. “But, we were hoping you would be up to a small trip.”

“O-oh,” you stammered. “I, uh, I mean should I? I don’t know if I should be getting rough.”

Steve laughed at that and assured you, “I can be gentle if that’s what you’re worried about. But, really. It’s actually important that you come with.”

You bit your bottom lip, contemplating. “I actually haven’t left the brothel since… you know.”

He hummed in acknowledgment. “Mhm, well, it’s secluded. It’s my beach house. Don’t gotta worry about anyone but us and some guards. And we can pick you up directly from your place.”

A beach house? God, that did sound nice. You cleared your throat, trying to joke, “Wives? I don’t need my nose broken again.”

“No. They are going on a small trip themselves separately. We are going on a crabbing trip as far as they know.”

“But what are you really doing then? And why is it important that I come?”

Teasingly, Steve told you, “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Me and surprises really aren’t—”

“Come on, sweetheart,” Steve cut in. “You need to get out of that place. Get some fresh air. There’s a jet tub and a hot tub. You can stay in it as long as you want.” He added and you could hear the smirk in his tone, “As long as you let us get the look we want, that is. Stipulation.”

“Pervert,” you joked, smiling despite yourself.

“It’ll be worth it. Trust me.”

Sighing, you weighed your thoughts. “When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” you asked surprised. It was Tuesday.

“Yeah, we are ready to go and I’m assuming you don’t have any plans?”

“No.”

“Perfect. We will swing by to pick you up at 4.”

“In the afternoon I hope.”

Steve chuckled, “Yes, the afternoon, dove. So, be ready. You know how punctual Tony is.”

“Don’t want to start the trip off on a bad foot,” you agreed.

“Exactly.”

You blurted, “Hey… can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Carefully choosing your words, you asked, “Did you… were you able to find him?” Steve was silent on the other end of the line. You furrowed your brow and asked, “Steve? Are you still—"

“Yeah, I’m here. And yes,” Steve answered. “We sure did.”

“And…” you prodded, trailing off, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“We’ll come get you at 4pm tomorrow, dove. You should get your things packed,” he said, completely sidestepping your question. “I liked that blue one piece you bought when we were out that one time. The cut out one with great cleavage.”

“Okay, I’ll pack that one. How long are we staying?”

“A few days. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I gotta go though, dove.”

“Okay,” you repeated. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

When you hung up, you stared down at your phone. Why hadn’t he answered your question? You turned around after a few moments, placing your phone down on your bed. You got onto the floor and reached to grab your travel suitcase out from underneath the bed.

<><><>

Coming down the stairs after you dropped your bag off in the master bedroom and taking a very long bath in the jet tub, you slowed your steps. You were taking in the view, looking out the windows that stretched at least ten feet at the first landing on the stairs. The water was lapping at the rocks outside, the sun just starting to set. It was calming.

“How was it?” Steve asked, coming into view.

“Amazing,” you told him, smiling. “You didn’t come up for your view though. How can I keep up my side of the bargain if you don’t meet me halfway?”

Steve smirked, “Cheeky. Still.”

You noticed he was still dressed nicely and you asked, “Do you want me to go change?” You had thrown on the suit he asked you to bring and a coverup over it.

“Absolutely not. You look fine.” Steve held his hand out for you and you took it. He was quiet, looking at you.

You got uncomfortable and asked, “What’s up?”

Steve looked over your shoulder and you followed his gaze seeing Tony walk in from outside. The two of them seemed to communicate without speaking and you repeated,

“What’s up?”

Steve’s attention was back on you and he asked, “So, you remember how you asked about Jared?”

“Um. Yes?”

“If you had the opportunity, would you want to see him before he died?” Your mouth fell open slightly, unable to find your voice, completely caught off guard. Steve stepped closer, and said, “I know how it feels to see someone who wronged you know they’re about to die.”

“He’s still alive?” you blurted.

“He’s here.”

You stammered, “E-excuse me? Here?” Your heart was beginning to pound.

“Don’t worry, he can’t get out,” Tony said quickly, holding up his hand to you. He saw you were threatening to unravel and he came closer. He explained gently, “And even if he could, he’s pretty dehydrated and he’s definitely starving, so he’s not going to be moving too fast anyway. Plus, you’ve got us here now and we won’t let anything happen to you?”

“What…” you said, trying to grasp what was going on.

Steve explained, “Found him a few days ago and kept him alive after we gave him a good beating. Wanted to give you the opportunity to watch it happen if you wanted to. You don’t have to. Just wanted you to have that chance.”

You were suspended in shock. You thought you were coming here to relax, get fucked a couple of times. And then just head back home. It dawned on you that second that this was the surprise that Steve must have been alluding to on the phone when you agreed to come here. Not the surprise you were expecting; not even in the realm of possibility.

Did you want that? Did you want to see him die? You swallowed sharply, flooded with the memories of all the times he had beat you, cheated on you. You hated to admit some part of you would like to actually watch him suffer. You could never do it yourself, not on your own. And now you had this golden opportunity to have it happen in a way that he would know it was because of you that it was happening.

“Y/N?”

You were taking a long time to answer.

“I…” you started to say, looking in between them. You exhaled slowly and admitted, “Yeah. Yeah.”

“You’re sure?” Tony asked. You nodded and he nodded in return. “Good. I think you should. Give you some closure.”

That seemed a little sadistic but you let them led you towards the door. They walked you out onto the dock that was lit by small lamps. The sunset was beautiful on the water, the waves glowing with the colors. It was a stark contrast to what you were walking out here to do, such a dark deed. There were a few men standing at the end of the dock and you made to stay closer to Tony, keeping an eye on them as you approached.

When you came to a stop, your eyes circled around the group. You immediately got worried, thinking the worst.

Nervously, you asked, “Where is he?”

Tony pointed down at the dock and you furrowed your brow in confusion. “Guys gotta be freezing in this water.”

“O-oh.”

Tony walked over towards the side of the dock where you saw there was a ladder. He began climbing down it and Steve gave you a little nudge. You walked over to the edge hesitantly and looked over. There was another lower dock there, a speedboat next to it. That made sense, this dock was pretty high. They definitely were not going to kill you, you tried to reassure yourself.

You forced yourself to climb down after Tony, his hands coming up to steady you as you got within his reach. You settled down next to him as soon as you saw they were telling the truth.

Jared was tied up to one of the pillars holding up the dock, his body half submerged into the water. He looked absolutely awful, close to death. His face was swollen, bruised. They had not lied about the beating either.

He seemed to recognize you and his eyes narrowed. Something kicked up in him and he shouted against the gag, hate in his eyes. You could not tear your eyes away from him.

“I personally love the sight,” Tony said, standing close. He lit up his cigar and took a long drag, his eyes raking over Jared.

Steve had climbed down now and was standing close as well.

You were still in shock seeing Jared yell at you, struggle against the binding. Tony was right, the water must be freezing.

Something came over you.

“Fuck me,” you said, not taking your eyes off of him.

“Pardon?” Tony asked, choking on his smoke a bit.

“Fuck me,” you repeated. Tony was staring at you, his finger running across his lip. You shrugged and added, “I want another man fucking me where his stupid ass can see it. Right before he dies. I want that to be one of the last thing he remembers. He hated the thought of another man touching me.”

“Shit,” Steve breathed, laughing lightly.

Your adrenaline was rushing now. “That’s what I want. I don’t want to actually see him die. I don’t think I could handle that but… I want this.”

There were a few moments of silence and you finally tore your eyes away from Jared to look at the two of them standing behind you.

“I won’t say no to that,” Steve said finally, grinning devilishly. “I’ll do the honors.”

You stared into Jared’s eyes, knowing you would never have to look at him again after this. You would never have to worry about him ever again because of Steve and Tony.

<><><>

The lobster you were chewing was decadent, too good to exist. You were buzzed now, having to take a couple shots after Steve got done plowing you and then you walked away, without a care, knowing damn well that someone was going to be murdered behind you. The shots had hit quickly on your empty stomach and luckily dinner had been delivered shortly after you had taken the shots. The three of you were sitting at a table on their dock, the table lit by tall lamps.

“You said you were coming back from a job?” Steve asked, before taking a bite of his steak. You eyed him confused and he chewed, swallowing. “That night.”

Revisiting this again. You did not want to think about it anymore tonight but considering the favor they had done, you pushed your uncomfortableness aside and nodded. “Yeah. Some Wall Street guy. Definitely a frat boy who never had to work a real job in his life. He had every drug imaginable ready to just offer up. Obviously I did not partake.”

You picked up your champagne, taking a swig before taking another bite of your lobster.

“No more of that,” Tony said flatly.

Eyes narrowed, you asked, “Frat boys or Wall Street? Cause I really don’t always get to choose.” Another bite. It was so delicious. You had to ask what restaurant it was from.

“Nobody.”

You stopped chewing. Your eyes moved between the two of them, sitting there looking stoic. “What?”

They both exchanged a look and you felt your stomach starting to tighten. There was something wrong; something bad was about to happen.

Steve answered this time, “Nobody else. Nobody but us.”

You almost asked if they were joking but you remembered Tatiana’s words about owing them. And the looks on their faces told you they were in no way joking around. You placed your fork down, straightening up. They were watching you with an uneasy intensity, gauging your reaction.

Giving a light, nervous laugh, you told them, “Uh, I mean… I kind of have other regulars.���

“Why would you feel the need to continue with other regulars?”

“T-t-to keep my options open?”

“That’s… insulting,” Tony chuckled, his smile not reaching his eyes though, turning his head to stare off into the water.

You felt cold, a tightness in your stomach. Insulting him was the last thing you wanted to do.

“What is this? What are we talking about?”

Steve shrugged, “I’m not sure what’s not clear about this, Y/N. You will work for us and us only. You get an actual apartment. Move out of the brothel. So it’s not as suspicious that we are visiting you. Then we will be able to visit you whenever we want and we won’t have to worry about an incident like this happening again. Or worry about you leaving.”

You could not believe what you were hearing. They could not be serious about this. To just upend your life to just be at their beck and call. And to prevent you from leaving if you wanted to? This situation was spiraling way too quickly.

“I don’t want to live by myself,” you argued.

“It won’t be some run-down building, Y/N,” Tony sighed, annoyance lacing his tone as he looked back at you. “You’ll have a doorman. And security.”

“So, you want me to just… depend on the two of you for income and for my housing? Nothing else?” you asked them, flabbergasted.

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“What rational person wouldn’t be worried about that? I haven’t had the greatest track record with partners as you have seen yourself.”

Steve cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. You closed your mouth, knowing immediately you had said something out of pocket. “I don’t like what you’re insinuating about me. About us. Have we not been good to you?”

“I-I.. that’s not what I meant—”

“You think I’m going to hit you?” Steve asked harshly.

“No—” you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest. He looked irritated all to hell.

Tony held up his hand and Steve closed his mouth, still glowering at you across the table. You averted your gaze to Tony as he spoke.

“You’ll be perfectly fine wherever we set you down.”

Your voice was small, “I can’t even choose?”

“I would like somewhere in our jurisdiction for one. And then the doorman stipulation.” He saw you had shook your head ever so slightly, a reaction more than anything. Tony leaned across the table, staring directly into your eyes. It took everything in you to not look away and to not show fear. You felt like you were probably failing miserably at that. “I don’t think you understand fully what’s going on here, sweetheart, and that concerns me. You won’t have to trick anymore. No more uncertainty of who is taking you home. No more late-night walks. A steady income, your own place. Protection too furthermore; you’ll have at least one guard at all times. Why would you not want that?”

Logically. You would want this. You should want this. You begged them to screw you over your abusive ex hours ago. Practically egged them on to commit murder with acting the way you had. Everything he was saying was positive. But it was ignoring the fact that it sounded like you were going to be owned, your movements dictated by the two of them.

You licked your lips and offered weakly, “It’s not smart of me.”

“Why?”

“My line of business isn’t exactly about exclusivity.”

“Well, I guess you’re leaving that line of business then,” Tony said coolly.

There was not a choice here. You were being told.

You needed to get away from the table, away from their heated stares. You were swimming in anxiety. Standing up from the table abruptly, the chair squeaking, you took off. You did not know where to, you had nowhere to go. You just knew you wanted – needed – to be by yourself, to gather your thoughts.

By the sound of the heavy footfalls following you down the boardwalk, it did not seem you were going to be granted that. You broke into a run, knowing it was futile. There was no way you could outrun a super soldier. Steve caught you without any trouble whatsoever and pushed you up against the wall of the beach house.

“I don’t want to!” you exclaimed.

“It’s either here, secluded, under guard or in your new apartment under guard.”

Tears watered up in your eyes and you choked out, “You can’t do this.”

“I can’t do this?” Steve said, a flash of cruelty in his eyes and an amused smirk on his lips. He leaned in closer and said more quietly, “Dove, we run this city and you are a part of this city. Our favorite part actually and we are securing our favorite part for ourselves.” He stepped closer, glaring down his nose at you. You felt smothered against the wall by his imposing presence. “And that’s whether our favorite part likes it or not. Because we already own it because she owes us.”

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming, @oceaniamaddness, @multifandom-superlover, @imsonick, @holl2712 

[darling-i-read-it]

Fugitives

Baron Helmut Zemo x reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: some spoilers for tfatws, i think thats it but if i missed anything pls let me know!

Author’s Note: I hope you like this love! Zemo <3

Requested: by @stardancerluv, Ok!😬 hope this works! So I was thinking Zemo stops f!reader from being turned into a super solider. Much later after all that time, they run into each other in Madripoor or Zemo makes it his side mission to “run into you!” Maybe they have feelings for each other which are expressed over drinks. (Let your creativity fly!) Work your magic! Thank you so much! You’re the best. 💐

Summary: the request!

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

(not my gif)

Zemo remembered meeting you well. One of the few people that he had saved, one of the people who were in his corner. He often remembered those who held a debt to him but he couldn’t say that you did. He would say maybe that he held a debt to you.

You held one of the few super soldier serum in your hand and twirled it around between your fingers. You looked at the clear bottle, the liquid sloshing just slightly as you moved it around. A part of you was hoping that you would drop it.

If you dropped it then the choice would be out of your hands.

It seemed like a natural thing to do to take it. You should take the serum and have the power that so few people had. If you were able to do that, maybe you could save others. Maybe you could be just like Captain America or one of the other superheroes. You had a choice that so many others would never have, the choice that so many others wished they had.

Zemo was tracking that bottle. He had managed to get his hands on it only for it to slip out of his grasp but not before he put an inconspicuous tracking device on it. He just hoped that no one had taken it yet. He would rather smash a vial then kill a person. But he would do what needed to be done.

His device tracked all the way to where you were sitting but he saw the vial, he could turn off the device. It was no longer beeping and he was able to see you, sitting in the middle of a crowd on the outer edge of a water fountain. The serum danced in between your hands. You weren’t even looking at it.

You weren’t looking at anything really. Your expression was focused and distracted. The back of your shirt was damp from the water spray.

Zemo approached you. You only noticed him when he was just a couple of feet away. Your eyes met. Neither of you were confrontational about it. There was no fight that went down immediately.

“I’m Helmut Zemo.”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you said evenly. You held up the little vial. “I suppose you’re here for this?” He shook his head, a sly smile on his face.

“I’m here to make sure that you don’t take it.” You raised an eyebrow.

“For personal reasons? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before Helmut.” He shook his head again.

“Nothing personal against you. May I sit?” You looked down at the little vial and took a deep breath before nodding. He sat down beside you. For a moment, he was silent, just watching the people as they passed by. You were silent as well, crowd watching. You didn’t feel any ill will toward Zemo. You figured someone would come eventually, you just didn’t figure so soon. Regardless, he was being less violent than you had figured someone would be.

“I haven’t taken it or anything.”

“I see.” You looked over at him and met his eyes. He had striking eyes and a guarded but soft gaze. You didn’t feel confrontational.

“Should I?”

“No. No you shouldn’t.”

“And how should I trust your judgement, Helmut Zemo?” He held your gaze and a soft smile flashed over his face. He laughed and shook his head just a bit.

“I think you shouldn't because everyone who has taken that serum has done something bad with it. It’s cursed.”

“Perhaps the people were cursed to begin with. Plus, what about big old Captain America? Is he not doing things for righteous reasons?” you asked. A darkness went over his face but he quickly suppressed it.

“That is subjective to each and every person.” He held your gaze even longer, causing you to have to look away. “Don’t take it.”

“Do you want it? To study or take or whatever?”

“I want it destroyed. Under my boot, right here and now.” You held it up to the light and looked through it. Who knew what it was made of. You barely knew what it could do.

You were silent for a long moment as you considered your options. Finally you let it fall between your fingers and land on the ground. You stood up and offered your hand. He grabbed it, standing. You gestured to the vial.

“It’s all yours Helmut Zemo.”

He looked down and with one stomp, it was nothing more than glass and spilling liquid. You were sure it would mix in with the rain that was soon to come. It would be like it was never there.

You met each other's eyes again.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?” His accent was thick but only then, like he had slipped up in a moment of happiness that the serum was gone.

“For helping me make that decision.”

You turned and started walking until you were lost in the crowd and Zemo could no longer see you.

====

When Zemo came to Madripoor he was only slightly thinking of you. You and him had met near the place but not close enough for him to have you at the front of his mind. He was much more worried about getting Bucky and Sam to pass through mostly undetected.

“So what is your big deal with super soldier serums? How long have you been trying to destroy them?” Sam asked, just to make conversation as they walked the long walk to the club.

“A long time. I met a girl not far from here who was about to take it. She let me crush it underneath my boot.” He remembered it fondly.

“She didn’t want it?” Sam asked. Zemo nodded.

“She understood the costs that would come with taking it. She wasn’t prepared to pay the price so she let me destroy it. A good choice on her part.”

As they entered the dimly lit club, the conversation died out. Loud music bumped through the air. The three of them kept their game face on and Zemo reminded them multiple times not to slip up.

They blended into the crowd. They had to get to Selby.

And they did but then they were running away, trying not to get caught in the crosshairs of someone with a gun that wanted them dead.

As they ran, narrowly dodging death, Zemo ran square into you. You stumbled over and Zemo almost ran right past you before he realized who you were. You stood up and looked around at the people chasing him.

“Helmut?”

“Y/N?”

“Quickly! Come with me!” You grabbed his hand and started to run. They didn’t have any better option. Bucky, Sam and Zemo chased you through the streets before coming to a halt in a room in a very tall building.

When everyone caught their breath you were finally able to speak.

“What are you doing in Madripoor?!” you asked him, breathing heavily.

“I was trying to see Selby who is sadly dead by now.”

“Wait, how do you know her?” Bucky asked, gesturing to you. “Is she another criminal?” Zemo sighed.

“No I-well you aren’t a criminal now are you?” You shook your head slightly.

“No, not really. Well there was...it’s not that big of a deal. I take it all of you are criminals?” Sam shook his head, stepping forward.

“We’re just trying to get some information.”

“This is Y/N. The woman I met who gave up the super soldier serum,” Zemo explained. They nodded, recalling the story he had told them earlier. “What are you doing here?”

“Who are these people?” you asked loudly.

“This is Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes,” Zemo explained. You recognize their names just faintly in the back of your mind.

“Wonderful. You all have to leave.”

“We can’t yet. Not until things settle outside. Please, you’ve helped me once more and I’m asking you to do it again,” Zemo said, approaching you. It had been years but you looked the same. A little rough around the edges but it was nice to see a familiar and kind face. You took a deep breath and cursed under your breath.

“One night.”

Zemo nodded happily.

“Thank you. Thank you.” You sighed and gestured to the bathroom.

“I have no mens clothes but I may have some sweats and hoodies that would fit. You’re all welcome to shower.” They nodded, happy to have a place to sit for the day and regroup. “There’s plenty of food in the fridge.”

====

Sam and Bucky were in your small room, trying to sleep. One of them was snoring. Probably Sam because he took the bed and Bucky was on the ground. You and Zemo sat outside on the couch, holding beers in your hands. You had large windows in your apartment with a view of the city, however run down it was.

You looked outside, watching the lights turn on and off rapidly.

“Why are you in Madripoor?” Zemo asked.

“I came here after I met you. Tried to get some work. I have things here and there, not exactly legal things but...things that pay for my rent and groceries,” you said honestly. You turned back to look at him. “I hear you’re a fugitive in America huh?” He scoffed.

“It was worth it.”

“I imagine it was.” You looked down at your drink. “I thought about you a lot. How life could have been different if I hadn’t listened to someone I met just a couple of minutes before.” He looked at you but you weren’t looking at him. He studied your features, relaxed, older than they were.

“I think you would have been dead if you hadn’t.” You looked up at him and grabbed his hand. He held yours for a moment and right then and there you were not criminals, fugitives, or strangers. You weren’t anything except together.

“I’m glad I listened,” you whispered. He kissed the back of your hand gently and there was that subtle soft smile that made you feel washed over with relief.

“Me too darling. Me too.”

You fell asleep on that couch that night without knowledge of the future and without care for it either. You drifted off in Zemo’s arms, his lips pressed against your shoulder blade.

[hyucks-archive]

blue.

word count: 2,666

genre: angst, female!reader, ex-boyfriend!mark

member(s): mark, jaemin, jeno

warning(s): none

author’s note: did you know that blue is supposedly the #1 ‘favourite colour’ in the world? :o

“Why are you seated here alone?”

You turn in the direction of where the voice had come from, looking up to meet eyes with Jaemin, who is looking at you with a tender, sweet smile. “Mind if I join?” he asks, to which you shake your head, patting the spot next to you. He seats himself down beside you, dipping his legs into the chlorine-filled pool water. You kick your legs gently, watching as your subtle movements form gentle ripples on the surface of the light blue water.

“Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?” you ask. Jaemin’s smile widens at the mention of her; would the mention of you, put a smile on his face too? You scoff internally – in what world would that be possible? There’s a reason you’re seated here alone. “She couldn’t make it today,” Jaemin shares, taking a sip from his blueberry mocktail. “Why aren’t you hanging with the boys?” he questions. You have your eyes fixed on the blue water in front of you.

Johnny’s Suhmmer Party has always been an annual tradition for you and your friends. Every year, Johnny would host a massive summer party, welcoming the start of summer at his beach house. While you aren’t one to dig parties, you’d still attend, just because it’s a friendship thing. And, even when you’d sit by the pool, away from the crowd, you wouldn’t be alone. You’d be beside him. But this year, marks the first year, that things are different. You had considered skipping out on attending the party altogether, but you knew that it’d only invite unwelcomed questions. You didn’t want your friends worrying for you, at least, not after how much you tried to convince them that you were fine.

Instead, you made sure to arrive early, and steer away from the main house, where most of the guests would be. That probably makes it a thousand times clearer that you’re avoiding something. But Jaemin is the sweetest boy out of the lot, the only one who’d be willing to play dumb and act as though he doesn’t already know your answer to his question.

You smile, turning to make eye contact with him. “It’s stuffy inside,” you lie.

Jaemin leans forward, looking at the area surrounding you. “You didn’t even get yourself a drink?” he asks. You wouldn’t risk it. Jaemin lifts his legs out of the pool, pushing himself off the ground, into a standing position. “I’ll go get a drink for you. What drink do you want?” he offers. You maintain the smile on your face, replying with, “Blue lagoon.”

“Non-alcoholic?”

You nod your head. “I’ll be right back,” he says, turning on his heel to head back into the main house to get your drink.

You refocus your attention on the pool water beneath you. There’s music pumping in the background, but all you seem to be able to capture are the subtle sounds the water makes as it dances with the gentle summer breeze. You breathe a sigh, eyes travelling upwards, towards the night sky. The night sky is always said to be a dark shade of blue, but all you see, is a blanket of black. You wonder if it’s just you, or if the blue is just not striking enough to the naked eye.

Taking in a deep breath, your eyes continue to travel around, browsing through your surroundings. You smile when you spot Jungwoo in the distance, showing off his ‘perfect’ re-enactment of that one move he loves from Tom & Jerry. The group of friends he’s with bursts into laughter, and despite the shy smile on Jungwoo’s lips, you know how smug he’s feeling inside, having succeeded in being a comedic relief to his friends.

Then, unexpectedly, or perhaps, with a tiny sense of hope that it would happen tonight, your eyes land on the one being that would make up the sole reason as to why you’d get up and make a beeline for the main house. Yet, you remain still in your position, eyes lingering on his silhouette for far too long. He turns his head to look at Yuta, granting you the perfect view of his side profile. Even from an angle, you can still see the sparkle in his eyes.

The sparkle, that was once solely elicited by you.

You’re still able to recall the first time you had met Mark. He was loud, but he was also shy. He giggled often, and laughed at almost every little thing Johnny would say. When he met eyes with you for the first time, you couldn’t deny the jittering feeling that spread throughout your entire body. He was charming, to say the least. And when he introduced himself to you, you were pretty much sold on how ethereal he seemed to be. At least, in your eyes, he was.

Looking at him from a distance like that, you’re only affirmed that Mark Lee is indeed, and will always be, that ethereal being in your heart. Nothing can change that.

“What are you staring at?” Jaemin’s voice interrupts, bringing you back into reality. You shake your head, reaching for the beverage in his hand, “Nothing,” you lie, again. Jaemin glances in the direction of where you were looking, his eyes immediately meeting Mark’s. Jaemin reclaims the seat beside you, jumping straight into conversation, to ensure that he engages your attention. He knows that it’ll only leave you overthinking, if you knew that Mark’s staring.

“What are you going to do over the summer?” Jaemin begins, drawing up a topic of discussion. You hum in thought, “I haven’t really thought about it,” you say, pressing your lips into a thin line. “I was thinking, laying in bed and rotting my days away,” you inform, a proud smile punctuating the end of your sentence. Jaemin chuckles at the information.

“Come on, you have to get out of the house,” he says.

“And do what? Rot under the sun?”

“I don’t know, maybe spend a peaceful reading day by the beach? You love to read, don’t you?” he suggests. Your mind goes blank at the word ‘peaceful’. Indeed, sitting by the deep blue sea, under the clear blue sky sounds extremely pleasant and tranquil. Yet, all your brain seems to be able to think about at the mention of a peaceful day, is Mark Lee.

Mark has always been your peace. On days that you were overly anxious for your final examinations, his presence alone served in every way you needed, to calm you down. On days where it felt as though the world would cripple and fall down on you, his presence alone provided you with the serenity you sought for. Mark was always like your personal, bright sky – he was always there for you, no matter where you were. You’d look up, and you’d see him smiling down at you.

Mark Lee was always like the light blue hue of the sky; he was peace, and he was serenity.

At least, he was all that, when he was yours.

Jaemin waves a hand in front of your zoned-out face. “Hello?” he calls out. You snap back into your senses once more, meeting eyes with Jaemin. “Sorry,” you murmur. Jaemin’s shoulders sink slightly when he sees how you immediately reach for your blue lagoon, sipping at it as you continue to be lost in thought.

“Hey,” Jeno greets, taking a seat beside Jaemin. “What’s going on?”

Jaemin tries to send a signal to Jeno, by gesturing towards you with his eyes. Jeno frowns, raising a brow. “What?” he mouths. “Do something,” Jaemin hisses, nudging Jeno. Jeno blinks a few times, still failing to grasp the situation. He calls for you, and you turn to face him. “Let’s go get a drink. An alcoholic one, this time,” he says, flashing his signature eye smile at you. Jaemin nods his head enthusiastically, encouraging with, “That sounds like a good idea, doesn’t it?” He places a hand on your shoulder, smile sincere as he urges for your agreement.

You shake your head, forcing a small smile. “You guys go ahead,” you say.

It’s weird. It’s funny how dependent you’ve become.

In the past, you could drink as much as you want, because you knew you had someone to fall back on, someone who’d ensure your safety, someone who’d take care of you. You’ve gotten so used to having that pillar of dependability, that you’re no longer able to drink, without knowing that he’d be there for you. Now that he isn’t, drinking will never be an idea you’re able to go along with. Sounds ridiculously stupid, but no one would understand something like this, unless they’ve been put in the same situation themselves.

You stare at the bright blue, medium hue blue lagoon mocktail in your hand. If it contained alcohol, and if you were drinking it a year back, in this very spot, Mark would’ve rushed to your side, chiming at you to watch your alcohol intake, because of your low alcohol tolerance. You chuckle bitterly; it’s as though you’re able to see the reflection of Mark so clearly in the drink – somehow, someway, Mark always seems to be able to plant himself at the back of your mind.

Mark resembles what medium blue is supposed to represent – dependability.

“Mark!”

You whip your head around – damn, the reflection in the glass was an actual reflection of Mark.

Jaemin and Jeno exchange looks. “What are you doing here?” Jaemin begins, laughing almost too awkwardly.

You remain in your position, eyes on Mark. Perhaps a part of you wanted this encounter to happen. You can’t just erase a person from your heart when they walk out on you. Then again, perhaps a part of you isn’t ready for this at all.

Cold. That’s the only word you can use to describe Mark’s gaze.

Mark always looked at you with nothing but love and affection in his eyes. When you needed assurance, all you had to do was look at Mark, and he’d send endless messages of reassurance and security through his gaze. Mark’s presence used to be like a blanket of security; his eyes would resemble the dark blue of the night sky – no matter how late it might be, no matter how alone you might feel, you can always trust that he’d be there for you.

Mark was your dark blue all this while; the most trustworthy presence in your life.

Yet the same pair of eyes that once looked at you like you were the most precious thing alive, is now looking at you, like you’re no different from the grass that people trample on day and night. You swallow. Mark keeps his eyes locked on yours, as he answers Jaemin, “Saw you guys hanging over here. Thought I should stop by to say hi.”

From what point, did Mark lose his warmth?

Blue was always your favourite colour. To be under the dark blue sky, a bright, medium blue beverage in hand, with your feet dipped in the light blue pool; blue is supposed to make you feel at peace. But somehow, tonight feels unsettlingly cold. Is it because you lack the one most important blue in your life?

“Can I sit?” Mark asks. You can feel Jeno and Jaemin’s stare, so you turn towards them. With a soft smile, you reassure, “I’ll be fine. You guys go ahead, okay?” Jaemin makes sure to leave an encouraging squeeze on your arm, whispering, “I’ll run back here if you need me,” before taking his leave with Jeno. Mark takes a seat on your right. He mirrors your position, dangling his legs over the edge of the pool.

“I didn’t think you’d be here tonight,” he says, almost too gently. He isn’t wrong. Former you would’ve refused until the end, unwilling to show up at a party where you’d potentially bump into your ex. But present you was too attracted to the colour blue, that you couldn’t stay away. You miss having the sense of trust, the sense of loyalty, and the mutual understanding that required no words at all. You smirk pitifully; it’s all still here. At least, it is for you.

“I didn’t think you’d come and talk to me. I guess we’re both full of surprises tonight, huh?” you say, mustering the courage to look at him. He’s staring at you with his doe eyes, except, they don’t light up the way they used to. It serves as a reminder – the Mark before you is different from the Mark you’re used to. The Mark before you, is cold and distant. At what point did Mark become like that? It still baffles you ’till this day.

“How have you been?” he asks, showing too much concern for your comfort. You wish he had that in him when he was minutes away from walking out from your life.

“I’ve been fine,” you lie, for the nth time tonight. “What about you?”

“I’ve been busy,” he replies, looking away. “So much has changed, it’s nice to be able to come back and see all these familiar faces.”

You take a pause, mentally dissecting his words. Furrowing your brows, you question, “You moved?”

Mark looks back at you, a soft smile on his lips. “I moved,” he says. “Why?” you ask. “We both know why,” he tells you. Your brows knit together. Do you?

You shift your gaze to your feet that’s distorted because of the water. You were both young, with your own goals that you were individually working towards. While you were passionate about achieving your goals, Mark was tenfold as passionate as you were. He worked hard, day and night. It got so serious to the point that he was barely there for you. But you didn’t mind. The process of reaching one’s dream is never easy. What mattered was that the two of you were still supportive of each other. When he was present, he was still the same sweet, dependable, trustworthy Mark.

But to Mark, he was a good-for-nothing. Who cares if he had a dream, a passion, when he can’t even make his significant other happy? He knew you were struggling. He wanted to put an end to that.

At some point in the relationship, you began to feel sad. You felt lonely. Far from peace and tranquillity.

But Mark was always your blue. He was the blue that spread in your heart, that made you feel understood, that made you feel security. You understand why they say blue is wet now. At what point, did the blue spread so much, that it began soaking your heart? Too much blue results in feelings of melancholy, negativity, and sadness. At what point, did Mark become so overwhelmingly blue?

Mark left because he knew he was too much for you. He couldn’t find the right balance. You deserved someone who could.

Unknowingly, the two of you have been sitting by the pool, staring into each other’s eyes.

Was blue always this depressing of a colour?

“Did you move permanently?” you ask.

Mark nods his head. “I’ve settled down,” he says.

You’re about to probe further, but both of your attentions are captured by the sweet voice that yells, “Mark!” from a distance. You look in the direction from where the voice had come from.

“That’s my fiancé,” he informs, voice soft. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

Your lips part slightly at the revelation.You can’t even pretend that you didn’t see the way his eyes brightened up at the mere sound of her voice.

That’s right. A heart that’s gone, can never be caught again.

You force a smile. “Congratulations.”

“We’ll catch up again?” he says, already getting up.

“Sure,” you manage out, feeling the sting in your nose as the tears begin to well in your eyes.

Maybe it is time to let go of the colour blue.