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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years

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in which harry’s your soulmate and you don’t quite know that yet.

a/n: hello angels! i bring you soulmate!harry for my loveliest friend @sweetcreatureinthedark ‘s fic party! i chose the prompt “i’ve been in love with you, i’ll be in love with you.” i’ll be honest, this was tough to write, and somewhat was testing my writing abilities lol, but we made it through and I love it! so i hope you all do too! be kind and pls leave feedback and rb! :’)

thank you to @sunflowers-styles for beta reading and putting up with the mess lol love you always <3

WORD COUNT: 15.4k of friends to lovers, soulmates, physicaltherapist!harry x professor!yn

WARNINGS: slight angst, mentions of heart condition and flatlining

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘YOUR BEATING HEART’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

There was a saying that your Nonna had always said to you ever since you were a little girl, one that she made sure was ingrained into your mind for the rest of your life.

‘Someone is destined to your mind, soul, and heart.’

Your mother, Kath, had told you that she had repeated those words ever since you were barely a year old. Nonna had said them so much that they could’ve practically been your first words. She would say that statement along with: ‘There is someone out there who already loves you, they’re just waiting for the right moment. That right moment will be up to the universe.’

The concept of soulmates has been around for thousands of years, and Nonna was such a sucker for it. Having met hers when she was sixteen years old, she made sure she taught her family the power of having a soulmate. She told Kath that if she wasn’t around for you, then Kath was supposed to teach you. Luckily, she’s still around though because that woman is one of the best you’ll ever know.

When you were old enough to go to school, the teachers taught you about soulmates as well. When you turn thirteen, you’re able to find who your soulmate is because the power inside of you ignites, guiding you through the world to find your person. The universe was…weird like that; teaching children that they were going to find love at such a young age. You were taught that you were born to be loved by someone, and since you didn’t know any better, you listened. Nonna then started to explain the meaning and importance of soulmates. You were fascinated by it as she would explain it so enthusiastically to you while you listened with wide and curious eyes, making sure you didn’t miss a single word of what she said.

As a shy ten-year-old, you couldn’t wait till you were older so you could find your soulmate, thinking it would be a fun adventure to see who you would click with. Nonna always said that ‘when you know, you know.’

Once you hit seventeen, however, you slowly believed less and less in the idea of a soulmate, and maybe that was because you were trying to force the feeling of trying to click with every person you met, but you lived through your adolescent years listening to your friends rave about how their soulmate was so perfect when yours hadn’t even shown up. They were all smiles while you were all frowns, a disappointed look was planted on your face when you would come to realize you were probably going to be alone and that the universe had forgotten about you.

At eighteen, living in a world of soulmates, you believed you didn’t have one.

That’s how you lived your life.

When you went to college, the idea of being bound to another person was pushed to the back of your mind and you started to live your life more freely. You didn’t have the constant pressure in your head, telling you to find your one true love because you believed there wasn’t a ‘one true love.’ Your Nonna was a bit sad to see you live thinking that no one was out there to love you, but you realized that you didn’t want to sit and wait around for the perfect person, you wanted to venture out.

Throughout college, you lived…a lot. You met new people, hooked up a bit, and didn’t have the recurring thought in your head about your particular soulmate.

That was until you met Eric.

You met him your last year of college; and he was a year older than you. You met him on campus while he was meeting up with one of his old professors whose classroom you just happened to be in as he walked in, and you had immediately taken a liking to him. Besides the fact that you were sexually attracted to him, you didn’t think you would see him again until you met him again at a coffee shop that was not too far from campus. Eric invited you to take a seat with him, to which you said yes, and the rest was history. You and Eric were together for three years. In that time you were able to find a stable job, and you lived life together before he proposed to you. You thought life couldn’t get better than this--you had the greatest fiance and a job you didn’t hate, which was teaching Anatomy at a community college.

Eric had made you believe in love. Soulmates, however? Not quite. Although at times it felt like he was your soulmate, that was just you trying to force something again. He was your soulmate without all of the characteristics a soulmate would have.

Nonna had always told you that your eyes would sparkle while looking at them, so intently to where you couldn’t stop staring at them, thinking you two were the only ones in the room even with so many people around. That you would feel the spark igniting between you and your soulmate, causing your body to feel warm as the physical pull would bring you together. That your heart would beat ten times faster when you knew who that person was, and that the erratic beating wouldn't seem to stop because your soulmate’s heart was also beating at the same pace.

When it came to Eric, you were able to look away and you were aware of your surroundings. When you were close to him, you didn’t feel that magnetic pull. When you looked at him, your heart seemed to calm down to where you didn’t feel like it was pounding through your chest. When you looked at him…you didn’t think he was your soulmate anymore. It’s crazy to even think that you thought he was before when you didn’t believe in the concept, but there was no attraction or pull towards him, and the timing could have been better. Actually, it could be so much better.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” you muttered into the mic as several gasps were heard from the family and friends that had gathered for the moment.

You were dressed in a white, lace dress with a veil clipped onto the top of your head. It was your wedding day, and you were telling the supposed love of your life that you couldn’t marry him anymore because the thoughts about soulmates had barged inside of your mind during Eric’s vows, making you think thoughts that you wished you wouldn’t, but you couldn’t help it. Eric wasn’t your soulmate, and you damn well knew that you weren’t his either.

“W-What are you doing?” Eric whispered as he looked at you with wide eyes that told you not to embarrass him right here, right now.

“I’m so sorry, Eric. I can’t marry you,” you said more clearly, not really telling him but also telling the crowd.

The officiant of your wedding was your friend, Vic, and she looked at you with a shocked expression as she was just as speechless as everyone else. You knew they didn’t have to say or ask anything for you to know what they really wanted to say; they wanted to ask you what you were doing and what caused the sudden decision to not marry someone you’ve been with for four years.

You could ask yourself the same question. Better yet, you would like to ask the universe why, especially on your wedding day, why they decided to suddenly pop inside your head, reminding you all of the bullshit people feel when they find their soulmate.

Eric looked at you with worry, eyes slightly watering as if it was his worst nightmare come true. But you couldn’t carry on with this while neglecting the feeling that was inside your heart and mind. You couldn’t marry him as those thoughts were screaming at you, telling you that you made the wrong decision. Those said thoughts were telling you that your true soulmate was out there somewhere, physically and emotionally hurting because their soulmate decided to marry someone else. Your marriage would be ruined entirely if you went through with it.

“I-I’m sorry…” is what you said to him with a pout on your face as he shook his head. You started heading down the aisle, ignoring the disappointed, sad, and angry looks your guests, especially his family, were giving you as you walked away from the altar that held the man you had given four years of your life to.

Once you reached the middle of the aisle, you started to jog. Picking up your dress so you wouldn't trip over it, you started to run as you couldn’t take the way the people were looking at you.

Without glancing back, you headed over to the black Mercedes that waited for the newlyweds on the curb. Your driver, Jackson, had turned around in his seat, smiling but when he didn’t see the groom, his smile disappeared, also noticing that you had a disappointed look on your face as well. You found a clean napkin on the side of the door, asking him if he had a pen.

“How long are you willing to drive?” You asked.

“I’ll take you to wherever you need me to,” he replied. You smiled gratefully, writing down the address that made you feel at home before handing him the napkin.

He immediately started the car before typing in the address into his phone, driving away from the venue that had relied and counted on you being a wife today.

And you didn’t regret your actions for one second.

Soft, cold winds rushed through you as your skin pebbled from the sudden draft while standing against the white wooden railing of the balcony in the main bedroom. The calm waves immediately put you at ease from the anxiety that you were feeling hours prior, as harsh thoughts pushed their way through your head, telling yourself that you were a disappointment—that you disappointed everyone at the venue.

The shakiness of your hands was replaced by the grasp of the railing as you looked out to the distant sunset. The day wasn’t all that sunny, since the sun was setting behind the clouds. There weren’t that many people out on the beach either, but you were glad because you needed to feel like you were the only person on this Earth.

Coming to the beach house was the first thing that came to your mind when you decided to walk out. You knew that Eric wouldn’t find you here because he didn’t know about it, plus you just wanted to be alone without the constant questions that came from your ex-fiancé and your family.

You felt bad, of course you did, and you didn’t know how to begin explaining to Eric that he was just someone that you couldn’t marry because the previously pushed thoughts had come back to your mind right as you stood at the altar. But right now, you were wallowing in fears that overtook your mind, thinking that everyone was going to absolutely hate you, which you think they did anyway once you walked out.

Setting the wine glass down onto the railing, you looked down at the few pedestrians who walked by on the beach, getting in a last-minute venture before it got too dark. You smiled, thinking about the soulmate crap the universe had made you think about your entire life because any of these people could be the person you would love for your entire life, and you wouldn’t even know.

You groaned to yourself, leaning your body away from the railing and putting your forehead on your forearms. You stayed there for a moment, thinking about how exhausted you were, especially since wine makes you tired, including the long day of getting ready all for nothing.

When you stood back up, you had accidentally knocked your glass over the railing, the glass barely making a sound once it landed on the sand.

“Fuck…” you looked over the railing to see where your glass landed before you headed down the stairs. Once you made it near the bottom, you hadn’t seen the last two steps because they were covered by sand, so you completely fell on your face into the sand, making you gasp loudly from the sudden fall.

Laughing hysterically at your fall as you felt the embarrassment on your cheeks, you rolled over onto your back as you closed your eyes and laughed until you cried. You covered your face as you began to sob, feeling truly sorry for yourself. You never meant for this to happen. You were supposed to be happy, and you were sure you ruined someone else’s happiness.

After a few moments, you got up and brushed the sand off your clothes and face, and shook your hair so the excess sand could fall out. You sniffled, walking over to where your wine glass landed before your phone rang in your pocket. It was your mom calling, and you knew you couldn’t ignore it. You were planning to ignore everyone’s calls and texts before you went back to your hometown in just a few days, but it was your mother--you couldn’t hit decline, especially right now.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hi, my lovely. You okay?” Kath was surprisingly calm because you thought she would’ve been freaking out.

“Hi, Mom. Yeah, I’m good.” You walked back to the stairs and decided to sit on the bottom of the steps as you watched the calming ocean in front of you.

“Can I ask where you are?” She asked hesitantly.

“I’m at Papa’s house and I’m safe. No need to worry,” you reassured, smiling softly, even though she couldn’t see you.

“Okay, good. I figured you were there. I understand you need space, but call me if you need anything, got it?” Kath was always a worrier, like every mom, but she seemed to worry about you a lot more than usual.

“Got it. Love you, Mom.”

“Love you too, my lovely. Oh, and,” she caught you before you were able to hang up. “I get why you did what you did, and I’m not mad. You’ll find them soon, okay?” Your eyes watered a bit, and you nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. You heard Kath blow a kiss through the phone before she hung up. You always loved how your mom was always able to understand you without you having to say anything at all. She was great like that, and you loved her dearly for it.

Pressing decline to what felt like the hundredth call from your in-laws and friends in the last two weeks made you roll your eyes and want to turn your phone off completely.

You knew that you had to call and text these people back eventually, but right now, you didn’t want to explain. You already had the anxiety from your actions weighing you down already, and these people would most likely scream over the phone as they demanded an explanation as to why you did what you did, and you really didn’t need that at the moment.

All you wanted to do was go back to the beach house and sit on the balcony as you watched the ocean; all far away from your problems.

You were unofficially a single woman, and you could look at all the men and women you wanted now that you were single. The nagging voice in your head was constantly bothering you, leaving you no room to think about what you might say to Eric when you meet up with him. He had stopped calling you a week ago, and since you weren’t entirely cruel, you shot him a text, saying that you were fine and that you’ll talk to him when you were ready because quite frankly, you needed to wrap your head around your thoughts. He was a sweetheart in that way, giving you space when you were the one to walk out on him and needed to explain things. You truly didn’t deserve him.

Unlocking the door to Nonna’s house with your spare key, you found her sitting on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Nonna,” you greeted, and she perked her head towards the door.

She softly smiled, getting up from the couch before she walked over to you. She didn’t greet you like she always did, which made you a little nervous because you thought she might be mad at you, but when her arms wrapped around your body, pulling you into a hug, you relaxed.

“Hi, Chip.” Her nickname for you came out with a smile against your shoulder. She had started calling you ‘Chip’ ever since you were a toddler. You had always wanted a bag of chips to munch on, and the nickname seemed to stick because you were still the same.

Nonna pulled back, guiding you to sit with her on the couch. “How are you, love? I haven’t seen you in weeks,” she asked as she pouted, giving you a look of concern.

You smiled to ease her worry. “I’m doing okay. How are you?” You grabbed her hand from her lap to hold it, the gesture making her smile a bit.

“Okay as well. Worried about you. Haven’t seen you since the wedding…”

You huffed out. “Yeah, Nonna, I just wanted to say I’m sorry-”

“Chip, what do you need to be sorry for? It wasn’t like it was my wedding. I understand why you did that,” she reassured you.

“You do?” You looked at her with a soft look. If there was anyone that you wanted approval or reassurance from, it was your Nonna.

“Of course, I do. Look, I know I told you about soulmates ever since you were younger, and throughout the years, it pained me to see you think that you didn’t have one. So, I didn’t push the idea onto you anymore. I wanted you to live your life, and when you met Eric, I thought he was nice, but I just knew he wasn’t the one,” she explained, making your brows raise.

“You knew?” Nonna nodded. “H-How?”

“Because you would’ve told me right away when you met him. You would’ve told me that you felt everything that I had told you for years, and suddenly when you met Eric, you didn’t talk about those things. I knew on the outside, you made it seem like you weren’t into the idea of soulmates, and that may be the case, but I know deep down that you still care about it. You want someone to cherish you and love you as we all do. You were excited up until you were seventeen because your friends had found theirs already, and all of a sudden you didn’t care. I know you’re still looking, but just wait a little, yeah?” Nonna always had a way with her wisdom, and she had that kind of intuition that made you feel a little less worried. The words that came out of your mouth weren’t much of a shock to you because Nonna was smart like that. You hadn’t realized all of the things she had picked up throughout your relationship with Eric, but you were grateful that she caught those things because it made it easier to talk to her.

“You know way too much, stop,” you joked, making her laugh. You laid your head on her shoulder, embracing the moment with her as you thought about how grateful you are for her. She was truly the closest person to you, and you didn’t know what you would do without her. Suddenly, the doorbell rang as she got up from the couch. “Expecting someone?”

“Must be my personal delivery boy,” she raised her brows teasingly, and you furrowed your brows in confusion. She had always mentioned someone dropping by to drop some things off from her next-door neighbor, and yet, you hadn’t met this neighbor of hers. Nonna opened the door and the person behind it wasn’t someone you were expecting. “Oh, thank you, dear!” She grabbed the set of glass bowls. “Would you like to come in?”

The man behind the door said, “I wouldn’t want to impose-”

“No, please! Come and meet my granddaughter.” Nonna opened the door wider, so her guest could look into her house, and that was when he saw you, standing in the entryway with your mouth slightly open. “Harry, this is my lovely granddaughter--the one I’ve been telling you about.”

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he said breathlessly. His gaze was trained right on you, and Nonna looked between you two as the both of you looked at one another with shock.

“Hi, uh, Y/N,” you shook his hand as you were quite speechless. He was quite attractive and looked young. He had short, curly brown hair that was pushed back with a red patterned bandana. He wore a black Nike jacket, shorts, and running shoes.

There was a moment of silence between you two as the both of you looked at each other. His expression was soft as his eyes seemed to burn into you, making you captivated by his stare. It felt like time had stopped for a moment as you two looked into each other’s eyes, trying to map out what the intent stare really meant. Could it be? Before you allowed yourself to feel the imaginative spark, you broke out of your trance, placing your head down as you thought for a moment. He cleared his throat to relieve the silence as he scratched the back of his neck, looking anywhere other than you.

“I’m just going to put these away,” Nonna broke the silence as she smirked to herself while leaving the room and to the kitchen before you let out a breath.

Harry smiled amusingly, chuckling a tad bit. His dimples popped out when he did so and you thought he was the cutest thing to ever walk the Earth. You walked closer to him so you were in the spot Nonna was prior as Harry was still standing on the doorstep.

“Hi,” you simply greeted.

Harry’s smile widened. “Hello.”

“So, uh, how do you know Nonna again?” You asked curiously, tilting your head as you placed your hand on the doorknob on the other side, leaning against the door.

“My mum lives next door actually. She and Tallie are quite close friends, so I would see your Nonna every time I would visit Mum, and Mum would have me bring things over sometimes—whatever the two talked about,” he explained, and you nodded understandingly, thinking that it was truly a small world.

“How long has your mom lived there?” You wondered.

“About a year and a half now,” he answered. Your brows furrowed as you were genuinely confused about why you haven’t met Harry before because you would always visit Nonna. He looked at you oddly as well, wondering the same thing.

He’s known Tallie ever since Anne moved next door, and also found it strange that he’s never met you before. Tallie had mentioned her daughter, which was your mother, and has met Kath before--many times. She also mentioned you briefly, but he’s never seen any pictures of you, so he wouldn’t have recognized you if he met you.

“That’s strange, isn’t it?” You suddenly asked, and Harry nodded his head. Before he could say anything more, Nonna walked into the room.

“You kids doing okay?” She asked, and you smiled at her, nodding your head. “Do you two want to make some bread?” She suggested enthusiastically. You and Harry both chuckled, looking at one another briefly before you both said yes. Nonna clapped her hands, urging you two to follow her into the kitchen. “The dough has been resting for an hour already, so if you two could do me a favor and knead it for me, that would be great.”

After the three of you washed your hands, Nonna instructed you on how she would like her bread to be shaped like breadsticks. You and Harry complied as she was making the butter.

“So, Y/N, what do you do for a living?” He sparked up a conversation as he kneaded the dough; you were doing the same.

“I teach at the college about an hour away. Anatomy and Physiology professor,” you said humbly, and his brows raised.

“You sure know a lot about the body then…” he suddenly pointed out, eyes widening immediately as he stopped kneading. “That was really weird, I’m sorry.” You laughed loudly as he cringed at himself. “I was just trying to state the obvious since you studied anatomy, and it went smoother in my head.” His cheeks turned into a pink tint color as he scratched his neck--something that you already noticed he did when he felt nervous or awkward--feeling the embarrassment rush through him.

You chuckled, looking up from the dough. “No worries. You’re…cute.” Harry didn’t say anything but shyly smile.

“What about you?”

“Besides living in general,” he started, and you laughed. “I’m a physical therapist. I work at the hospital downtown.”

“Ah, interesting. So, you would know a lot about the body too then, huh?” You teased, placing his words in your mouth.

Harry genuinely laughed loudly, filling the kitchen with his sounds. “Perhaps I do. That was a good one,” he said once he calmed down from his laughter. You beamed at him before you studied him a bit, trying not to get caught.

You were so caught up in how focused he looked while kneading the dough, and the way his lips curled in as he rolled it between his hands. His hands were naked from the rings that you had seen prior before he took them off for this task, but the way his hands were built and what they could do had you limitlessly daydreaming for what seemed like forever. They looked strong, but they were pretty. The orange nail polish contrasted between the bulging veins in his hands, leaving a very fine line between it all.

If you looked any longer, you would be drooling at the thought of this man’s hands, but luckily, Nonna tapped you and by the look on her face, she had caught you eyeing her delivery boy. “Yes, Nonna?”

“Might wanna speed up the process, yeah?” She suggested, with her voice in a teasing manner. All you did was nod as you huffed out a chuckle before proceeding.

After a bit more conversation with Harry, the dough was finally going into the oven, leaving an excited Nonna while Harry was placing the tray onto the rack.

“Tallie, I would hate to not try the bread after it’s done, but I should probably get back to my Mum…”

“Oh, go ahead, dear! I’m sorry to keep you for so long. I’ll be sure to bring some by when it’s done.” She reached up to hug him. “Be sure to tell Anne I said thank you for lending me the bowls, and thanks to you for delivering it.”

“Always a pleasure. I’ll see you soon. Uh, Y/N,” he called out as you gave him your attention. “Walk me out?” You smiled, nodding your head. Harry said one last goodbye to Nonna before you followed him out of the house.

“It was nice meeting you,” you told him, walking onto the sidewalk. You two were walking slowly since Anne’s house was right next door, and it seemed like you two wanted more time with one another even though it wasn’t said out loud. It was like you two already knew.

“You as well,” he said honestly. You were standing right in front of you in Anne’s driveway, not quite wanting to leave just yet.

Your heart started racing uncontrollably fast as you looked up at him. His green eyes still shined bright in the gloomy sky that looked like it was about to downpour any second, but they had caught your eye immediately, and you were completely lost in them. You weren’t able to look away and think how alluring his trance was. Your mind had stopped itself from long jumping into the conclusion that was begging you to finish the story, so you pulled your stare away instantly.

“Uh, well. I’ll see you soon probably?” You asked, backing away from him. Harry slightly frowned but made sure not to make it obvious.

“Yeah, you will,” he nodded, stepping back as he offered a friendly smile.

“Bye, Harry,” you waved at him before you turned around and walked away.

Harry walked into Anne’s home and straight to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He took a deep breath as he tried to calm down, heart beating outstandingly out of his chest that he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. When Harry walked into Tallie’s home, his heart was beating ten times faster ever since he saw you. He simply couldn’t stop staring at you, and the only way he stopped was when you had broken the stare. He definitely felt the spark there, and he wondered if you did too. He sure hoped so because he had never felt that strong of a feeling inside of him with anyone else.

Anne walked into the kitchen once she heard the commotion from upstairs, and saw her son leaning against the counter, head down and eyes closed, and that’s when she began to worry.

“Harry? Love, are you okay?” She ran to his side, placing her hand on his arm. Harry continued to take deep breaths, increasing Anne’s concern. “Answer me, please. You’re scaring me.” The sound of her voice was breaking Harry’s heart as he never wanted his mother to be concerned or scared, but naturally, as a mom, it was her job to be.

“Mum, it’s her. It’s really her,” he breathed out a laugh as his voice was strained from the lack of breath he had.

“What?”

“Her name’s Y/N. She’s Tallie’s granddaughter. My soulmate.” His eyes watered that was quickly followed by slight tears that streamed down his face, feeling so overwhelmed by the joy that overtook him.

“She’s here, huh?” Anne had tears in her eyes as she felt extremely happy for her son. All the heartbreaks and search for his soulmate had ended once he met you, knowing that it was going to change his life forever. Harry nodded, brushing the tears away from his face.

All the signs were there; the gleaming stare, the spark that shocked him, the magnetic pull between you two, his heart rate rising, and he felt like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you. That’s when he knew.

You were his soulmate.

The rain had poured down quite heavily as Harry ran inside the apartment complex with his small umbrella that had barely kept him dry.

Shaking the excess water on his umbrella and wiping his shoes onto the floor mat, he rushed towards the open elevator before it closed because it always took a while to land in the lobby.

“Hold the doors, please!” He called out, quickly running his fastest while trying not to slip. A hand was seen between the doors as the doors reopened. Harry got into the elevator, taking a deep breath.

“Harry?” He looked back at the other person who was in the elevator, and you were softly smiling at him as you took off your hood. You were wearing a burnt orange raincoat that he thought looked absolutely adorable on you, a university sweater underneath, black pants, along with black leather boots. Your eyes lit up at the presence of him, making him smile widely, feeling the attraction from you once again.

“H-Hi,” he stumbled over his words, to which he mentally slapped himself. He cleared his throat, “How are you?” I miss you, he wanted to say. It had been about two weeks since he last saw you at Tallie’s house, and considering you were his soulmate, that seemed like a very long time. There was no doubt that Harry had been on your mind since you met him. There was something about the way he looked at you that made you overthink every possible thing he could mean to you. It was crazy to think that he wouldn’t leave your brain considering you had just met him. You concluded that Harry was just an attractive man, the first man you’ve ever looked at that way since Eric.

“Good!” You said too overly excited, making Harry chuckle at your chirpy voice. You fake coughed, making your voice a tad bit lower. “Good, yeah. What about you?”

“Doing great!” The elevator doors open, and Harry stepped aside, letting you in first before he followed. “Do you live here?”

“Yeah, I do. This is me,” you stopped walking and stood in front of apartment 425 as you fiddled with your keys, nervously. You’ve been living here ever since you graduated college, and you didn’t fully move in with Eric because you planned to move in with him after you two got married, so luckily, you didn’t get rid of this place. “Do you also live here or are you visiting someone?”

“I live here too. I’m actually on the floor above yours, like directly above.” Harry realized that he didn’t even press the button to his floor in the elevator.

“525?” You asked as your brows furrowed. Harry nodded, giving you a small smile. “No way! Guess we’re neighbors…in a way?” You chuckled, and Harry grinned.

“Guess we are,” he slightly giggled.

“Uh, did you want to come in?” You asked. Harry’s eyes widened a bit, surprised by your offer, and you saw how shocked he was. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. It’s raining and thought it’d be nice to have some company.”

“I’d love to. Thank you,” he responded, nodding his head. You smiled as you proceeded to unlock the door, stepping inside as Harry followed behind you.

The layout of your apartment was the same as his since he was on the same side and right above you, but there was something about your apartment that felt like…home to him. He thought it had to do with the fact that it’s your space and you were in it because no one’s home felt like this besides yours. You had a few small potted plants along the windowsill along with a large one in the corner. Right next to the plant was a small wooden table with your red record player on top of it. A mustard yellow velvet couch was pushed against the wall facing the TV that rested on a white shelf bookcase that held many books and vinyl records in the cubbies along with random knick-knacks on the surface. A wooden round coffee table was placed in the middle with a vanilla candle on top of a few fashion magazines. Underneath the table was a white rug that looked warm to dig his feet in on a cold day. Three concert posters that were framed were hung on the wall, and he knew you were his soulmate because the three bands that you had on your wall were his absolute favorite; Fleetwood Mac, Queen, and The Beatles.

His heart fluttered as he looked around, feeling like this was a part of you that he finally knew now. This part of you felt like home to him as he was immediately washed over with the feeling of comfort right when he stepped into your apartment. He felt so welcomed that it was going to be difficult for him to leave your space.

“Make yourself at home.” Definitely home, he thought. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” You asked, taking out a saucepan from the cupboards.

“I would love some,” he smiled, sitting on the couch where he could see you pour the milk into the pot. After a few moments, he saw you rush back into the living area.

“Sorry, let me put some music on.” You kneeled on the hardwood floors to look at your collection before you turned your head back to him. “Any requests?”

“Any Christmas song would be lovely and very fitting,” he requested. It was the beginning of December, and Harry was in the holiday mood. Plus, you were preparing hot chocolate, so it is more than appropriate.

You smiled, nodding your head as you ran your fingers along your selection before pulling one out. Harry noticed the cover art as you pulled the record out. Ultimate Christmas by Frank Sinatra played on the record player, filling the room with melodious tunes. You walked back to the kitchen before flashing him a smile. He sat on the couch and soaked in the music as he heard humming from the kitchen, and he grinned. Harry felt a warm feeling in his chest as he saw you stir in the hot cocoa into the hot milk as you hummed White Christmas. This moment right here and right now was something he wanted to experience every single day--where you would make hot cocoa as he would watch you with sparkling eyes, thinking how Frank Sinatra’s voice fitted so well with the holiday vibe.

You came back with two red mugs with a bright smile on your face. “Do you mind placing the coasters on the table?” Your eyes pointed at the coasters underneath the candle. Harry nodded and placed two glass coasters onto the table, and he took a good look at both of them. One of the coasters stated ‘Be Kind’ in pink, and the other printed ‘Love Wins’ in multiple colors. He smiled, knowing the smallest things in your apartment was making him fall for you even more.

“Hope you like it. I also should’ve asked what you liked with your hot chocolate but I just assumed you liked the same thing as me,” you chuckled nervously. You didn’t know why you were so nervous, but you think it had to do with the fact that another man was in your apartment that wasn’t Eric.

Harry looked down at his hot chocolate. There were several marshmallows in the hot drink and a scoop of whipped cream with chocolate shavings to complete the drink. He smiled to himself as he took a sip, covering up his flustered demeanor.

“It’s exactly what I wanted. I drink mine the same way,” he replied, and you smirked.

“Glad I know a man with great taste,” you teasingly winked at him, and Harry nearly melted in his seat, and it for sure wasn’t from the hot cocoa because he wanted to reply with ‘More like your soulmate.’ He wanted to know what you were thinking in that beautiful head of yours.

He wanted to know if you felt the same things he does. Did your heart beat uncontrollably fast every time he looked at you? Did you get sucked into a different dimension every time you looked at him? Did you have the urge to move closer to him, closing the gap between you two? Because Harry felt all those things with the simple act of you sitting next to him, and he really wanted to know if you felt the same way.

You crossed your arms as the chilly weather rushed through you. “To be honest, I’m quite shocked that we live in the same building. I wasn’t planning on going back to Nonna’s until the end of the month, so I didn’t expect to see you.”

“So, you were thinking about me?” He raised his brows teasingly.

“And if I was?” You decided to tease back but came out more like flirting.

Harry paused for a moment, drinking his hot drink as he looked up at you through his lashes. “Then…I would say I was thinking about you too.” You nodded slightly, quickly grabbing your drink as you took a sip from it, hiding away your blush behind the mug. “What’s it like being a teacher? Can’t imagine standing in front of everyone and practically perform, I guess.”

You breathed out a laugh, thinking the opposite. He had the look of a rockstar, and his name sounded badass.

“It’s great. I try being their friend rather than a teacher because I feel like if they’re comfortable with me, they’ll retain and understand the material better. I learned that if you’re comfortable with someone, you’ll listen to them, so that’s what I did. And most of them are doing exceptionally well. Some of my colleagues are always surprised with how many students I get during office hours because I encourage using office hours and my email, so I’m quite busy,” you explained humbly. Harry admired your hard work and dedication, and he already knew you were a great professor just by what you told him.

“So, what made you want to become an anatomy professor?” Harry changed the subject, feeling a bit flustered himself.

“I was undecided with my major in college until I had to take a few science classes. One of them was anatomy, and I just fell in love with it. I really enjoyed learning it, and just fell in love with the subject,” you explained.

“The professor part?”

“My anatomy professor was the best. She made teaching look so fun and enjoyable. Plus, I’ve heard one too many stories about students having teachers who weren’t compassionate or sympathetic, and I didn’t like that at all. So, I wanted to be one of those teachers who made sure students learned and have a professor who was understanding,” you said humbly.

“That’s very sweet of you. Unfortunately, I’ve had those professors who were pretty tough and not so compassionate.” You pouted. You always hated hearing or reading tweets when students would type out an email and express what they were currently going through to their professor, only for their professor to lack compassion and support to students who were trying to do their best.

That’s why you wanted to become an educator. You wanted to make learning fun for your students and have them enjoy going to class rather than dreading it and being nervous to walk in.

“What about you? What made you want to become a physical therapist?” You asked.

Harry set his mug down onto the coaster. “The same as you. Something about bones and the muscles fascinated me and how they worked. I grew up loving sports, so that helped a bit, but wanting to help people recover properly was a main goal as well.”

“You’re kind like that; someone who wants to help out others,” you complimented, and Harry blushed.

“Thank you. It also has to do with the fact that one of my friends in secondary school, Max. He got injured pretty badly. He played football, or soccer, and he tore his ACL, which you probably know already, but it takes about six to twelve months to recover from that—physically and mentally. He loved the sport like no other, and couldn’t wait to get into it. His doctor cleared him when he was four months into therapy. Four. Doctor said he was looking good, so he cleared him earlier than usual.” Harry shook his head in disbelief as he told the story and you sat next to him, listening as your mouth was slightly open. “Like most of us, we listen to doctors more than we listen to our bodies. So, Max started to play again, and as expected, he hurt himself again…” he trailed off.

You placed your hand on his knee, comforting him. You could tell that Max meant a lot to him, and by the way he was acting at the moment, he cared enough to dedicate his life towards wanting to be better to people who rely on him.

“And he couldn’t play again. That was when I realized that I wanted to study the body. It was a long journey to get my doctorate, but I eventually got it at twenty-seven, and I’ve been working as a therapist for about a year and a half now; the same amount of time I’ve been here,” he said humbly.

“That’s great, Harry. You must be so proud of yourself,” you offered him a smile.

“I am, yeah. You must be too. Guess we both have a knack for changing some perspective, huh?” He softly smiled.

“Yeah, we do.”

Throughout the rest of the night, both of you got to know one another. You found out that you had a lot in common with him, such as your interests in the body (given both of your careers), movies and TV shows, books, and food; told each other childhood stories, and talked about your families. It was nice to talk to someone who didn’t judge you, especially with what happened a month ago.

It was nearing midnight as the time seemed to go by quicker than usual. After two more glasses of hot cocoa, Harry let out a yawn as he checked the time on his phone.

“I should probably get going--let you rest up,” he said politely, grabbing his mug.

You nodded, agreeing as you didn’t realize how late it was. “Okay. Oh, you could just leave it there; I’ll clean up.” Harry was too tired to debate, so he put the mug down before you walked him to the door. “I had a great time. Thank you for inviting me in and giving me hot chocolate.”

“Of course. I had a lovely time as well. Maybe…we should do it again sometime?” You suggested. Harry’s eyes gleamed as he slightly smirked; a tint of pink formed on his cheeks.

“I would love that.” You said a soft ‘okay’ as you smiled. He looked at you for a moment, noticing your eyes sparkling in the dim light of your apartment as you stared up at him in such fondness, making his heart melt in every way possible. Harry cleared his throat as he was so caught up in your stare that almost hypnotized him. “Well, you know where I live, so come visit if you want or maybe I’ll see you on another elevator ride,” he playfully joked, earning a giggle from you.

“Sleep well, Harry,” you told him as he walked out the door, away from the space that felt most comforting to him.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.” He flashed you another smile, and your knees nearly melted at the sight of his gorgeousness. Your grip on the door handle tightened, holding you up from falling to the ground.

You waited for him to turn the corner to head to the elevator before you closed your door. Placing your back flat against the door, you covered your face as a rush of giddiness hit you as your face began to warm up. That was the most fun you had in a while, even if it was just as simple as a long conversation.

You thought about Harry as you cleaned up and got ready for bed. Thinking about how sweet and kind he was. You never had met anymore who was so polite and nice while looking like that. There was no denying that you found Harry attractive--anyone with eyes could see that, but there was something about his inner aura and personality that you found extremely alluring and intriguing. You wanted to uncover and unravel all of his traits. That was when you knew you were collectively fucked.

As you went to bed, you dreamt of his green eyes and beautiful smile; drifting off to sleep, unaware that your heart was completing the gaps of Harry’s heartbeat.

Two weeks had passed since your first hangout with Harry, and you two had been hanging out ever since. Throughout those two weeks, you’d seen him at Nonna’s three times. The first time was unexpected, when you pulled into her driveway, you saw Harry helping her walk. Nonna had a sprained ankle from missing a step when she was walking down the stairs, and luckily, Harry was a physical therapist. Seeing the sight made your heart warm. The other two times were planned and you two decided to drive to her home together. It was very domestic of you two, and the level of comfort was something you never experienced with someone you just met. Nonna was happy to see you two getting along so well, she obviously knew something you were yet to figure out.

It was nice hanging out with him, you thought. He was a great and funny friend that could make you laugh for hours. But he was also someone you trusted that you could talk to about anything. It was bizarre to think considering you’d only known him for a short amount of time. Harry was just so open-minded, exciting, and new. Plus, you didn’t have many friends that lived close to you, so Harry living upstairs was just a walk in the park.

You were getting ready to have brunch with Harry and Anne. It was your first time meeting her, and you were a bit nervous if you were being honest. As Harry’s friend, you wanted Anne to like you, and you really hoped Nonna had talked you up a bit.

A knock was heard on your front door, and you took a deep breath before answering. Harry was standing behind it, wearing a plain white t-shirt, pink corduroy pants, and a black coat. Something that took you by surprise was that he was wearing brown tortoise framed glasses that fit him so well and nearly made you melt.

“Harry, you look very…nice.” Your breath hitched in your throat causing you to choke up a breath as he was completely breathless.

The corner of his lips turned up. “Thank you, so do you.” You smiled. Shall we go?” You nodded and followed him out, locking your door.

The restaurant Anne picked was not too far from your apartment complex—about 20 minutes. The entire drive to the restaurant, you and Harry sang your heart out to ABBA, pointing at each other as you both screamed out ‘You can dance, you can jive!’

“Y/N, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” Anne greeted you with a hug, and your nerves slightly dropped as she welcomed you with a hug. “Harry’s told me so much about you!”

Harry gave Anne a knowing look as a way to tell his mum ‘don’t tell her everything,’ and Anne gave him the same look saying ‘I won’t.’

“I can’t wait to get to know you. Our table is ready,” Anne said as she pulled away from you. You nodded your head in agreement as you all followed the hostess to your table.

Talking to Anne was something so refreshing. She was so sweet and kind, and you immediately knew where Harry got his best traits from. She also knew how to crack a few jokes here and there, making you almost spit your mimosa out or choke on your food.

Harry watched you two interact and his eyes watched with so much fondness. His mum and soulmate getting along was something he was so grateful for because he wouldn’t know what he would do if you two hated each other. The interaction was so natural between you two that he thought you were going to be the best of friends.

“So, I hope this is not a personal question, but have you found your soulmate, sweetheart!” Anne suddenly asked, and Harry choked on his water, making him cough reluctantly as he struggled to breathe. Anne rose from her chair as you gently slapped his back a few times to help him out. Once he was okay from his cough attack, he wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Darling, are you okay?” She gave him a concerning look.

Harry nodded, his face slightly red from the lack of air. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good, yeah.”

“You sure?” You asked. Your hand hadn’t left his back, and you could immediately feel the tingly feeling that spread throughout your arm like his touch shocked you throughout. Harry nodded again, reassuring you and Anne. You turned back to Anne, realizing that she had an unanswered question. “Uh, back to your question—no I haven’t found my soulmate.”

“Really?” Her tone coming out surprising.

You nodded. “Yeah. I thought I did, turns out he wasn’t the one.” Harry was eyeing you nervously as he sat beside you. He gulped, wanting to know everything.

“I’m sure you’ll find them soon, sweetheart,” Anne reassured, and you gave her an appreciating smile. “Your Nonna seems quite keen on soulmates,” she pointed out.

You nodded. “Yeah, she is. She started talking about soulmates since I was young. She found hers when she was sixteen. Her and Papa’s love was so special. Unfortunately, he passed away about five years ago you explained, and Anne frowned slightly.

“I’m sorry to hear that, love.”

“It’s okay! Feel like he’s always somewhat around. He owned a beach house that he passed down to me, and I go there every month, but I never change the furniture or take anything down, so it very much feels like he’s still with me,” you smiled as you told them.

“That’s lovely, sweetheart. I’m sure he is, and I’m sure he’s proud of you.” You softly smiled at Anne’s words, appreciative of them. You felt Harry’s hand on yours that was resting on the table, and you warmed up at his touch. Turning your head towards him, you flashed him a smile and he sent you a subtle and innocent wink, making your stomach turn into knots. Luckily, you were sitting because you would have surely fallen if you were standing.

“Where’s your beach house located, by the way?” Harry asked.

“Monterey.” You answered and you noticed Harry’s eyes widen, glancing towards Anne. “What?”

“I actually have a house there.” Now, that was new news.

“Really?” He nodded.

“Yeah, it’s in Pebble Beach. Where’s yours?”

“New Monterey.” Pebble Beach was about a fifteen-minute drive from where your beach house was at, on opposite ends of the coast.

Something was interesting about the fact that Harry was on the other side of your beach house. You’d been to Pebble Beach many times, sometimes walking the hour walk there to get away. If you hadn’t met Harry at Nonna’s, would you have met him at the beach house?

You shook off the thought, realizing that Anne had changed the subject, so you listened.

Brunch went by, and you were parting ways with Anne. You promised you would visit her when you visited Nonna, to which she beamed and hugged you tightly. Harry and Anne hugged, and they said ‘I love you’ to each other. Your heart warmed at the mother and son duo, thinking they had the best dynamic.

You and Harry drove back to the apartment complex in comfortable silence, all the way up to his apartment. You two would take turns sharing your apartments because they both made a great hang out spot. His place was your favorite, though. The first time you stepped in it, you felt an immediate calmness to the disarray of what your reality felt like. It was like you never wanted to leave his apartment, simply wanting to cuddle into his couch with a soft blanket over you. You could possibly stay there forever, you thought.

Harry made you both a cup of hot chocolate as it was starting to become thing for you both. It was nice; having a thing with you. It made him feel involved and important in your life.

“Do you want to have an honesty hour?” You asked once he set your mug onto the coaster before he took a seat right beside you.

He raised his brows. “Were you not being honest with me before?” He teased, and you nudged his shoulder.

“I’m serious,” you giggled, and it was music to his ears.

“I am too, but yes we could always have an honest hour. Tell me something.” He curled his lips in, and you couldn’t help but look at his mouth before you quickly glanced back up to his eyes.

“What do you wanna know?”

“Whatever you want to tell me. I’d be happy to listen,” he reassured. You decided you wanted to tell him what happened a month ago with the whole Eric situation. It was something you could open up to him about since he wasn’t at the wedding, so you knew he wouldn’t judge you.

You smiled softly. “It’s funny how we live in a world full of soulmates, huh?” You started. Harry’s breath hitched into his throat. He started to feel anxious right as you mentioned soulmates that led him to be speechless; he nodded instead. “Well, my Nonna has been telling me everything about soulmates ever since I was born. She constantly went on and on about it--always asking me if I’ve found mine ever since I turned thirteen. I was excited, y’know? She hyped it up so much that I couldn’t wait until I was older to find my soulmate.” Harry gulped, not saying anything. He felt a ‘but’ coming in, so he waited until you were finished. “I went through my teenage years with my friends talking about their soulmates that had found them when they were fifteen or sixteen. I was the only one alone. I don’t know why, but the universe must hate me.”

“The universe does not hate you,” he disagreed, shaking his head at the hateful words as he slightly frowned.

“No, it does. When I went to college, I stopped believing in the soulmate shit. I dated whoever I wanted without that pressure. But there was this one person that almost made me believe in soulmates…” you trailed off, and Harry took a deep breath. Maybe she does feel all those things for me? He thought. “His name’s Eric. I met him my last year of college…and we’re engaged--or were engaged.” Harry’s eyes widened as they slightly watered. His heart pounded through his chest as if he couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Y-You were engaged?” He stuttered, holding back his tears.

“Yeah. I said the universe hated me because I ran out and left him at the altar. When he was saying his vows, I thought of everything Nonna had told me. The heartbeat, the stare, the pull, everything. I didn’t feel that with him, and it was shit timing as well, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t feel the same way for me too,” you explained before taking another sip.

“So, do you believe in it now?” He slipped in the question.

“I mean…possibly. I know there’s someone out there for me--maybe. But I really pushed back the idea of my soulmate ever since I felt left out when I was a teenager, so I’m not entirely sure what the exact feeling you feel when you see your soulmate because I just pushed it out of my head and forgot about it.” Harry nodded understandingly.

It made much more sense to him, and you answered all of his questions. He knew that you weren’t feeling all of those things with him. It definitely hurt him, but he’d hoped that those feelings would come around soon because he’d sat right in front of you, waiting for the right moment to tell you that he was yours.

“Have you seen him since?” He carried on the conversation, wanting to know all the details and information that he could get.

“Since the wedding?” Harry nodded, and you shook his head. “No, I haven’t. It’s been about a month since I saw him last. I’ve just been texting him to see if he’s doing okay because I don’t know where his head’s at, but he told me that he would call me when he’s ready to talk, which I have to respect and understand.”

“A month?”

Your brows raised slightly. “Hmm, yeah, a month.” Harry's heart began to beat faster, and he clasped his hands together to prevent them from shaking. “I feel bad, y’know? I feel like I’m now painted as this horrible person, but I know I am-”

“Hey, no, you’re not,” Harry disagreed, shaking his head. “You’re pretty amazing.” Your eyes lightened up a bit. “I’ve only known you for a couple of weeks, and you’re possibly the sweetest person I’ve met. You’re funny, smart, and really fuckin’ kind. You made a decision that was going to affect your entire life. That doesn’t mean you’re a horrible person.” You didn’t say anything but nodded your head slightly with a small smile at his words. He didn’t need to hear anything from you to know that you were appreciative of his words.

“I wanna know everything about you, H.” You changed the subject, not wanting to talk more about your failed relationship.

His body turned warm at the sudden nickname. “Everything?” He raised his brows as he took a sip of his drink. He was a bit wary about your sudden want, but he knew that he could trust you.

You nodded. “Tell me all your secrets,” you whispered. Your words came out seductive, which you didn’t mean to, but by the way he was looking at you, it seemed like your words had some effect on him.

He curled his lips into his mouth as you pierced your eyes into his as his heart began to beat harder. He smirked a little, chuckling to himself at his reaction.

“You're in for it, love. Have a lot to cover.”

A blush formed onto your cheeks. “The floor’s yours.” He took a deep breath before he proceeding to tell you something very important to him. and he hoped he wouldn’t overwhelm you with this information.

“When I moved here, a year and a half ago, I was diagnosed with Bradycardia Arrhythmia—my heart would beat slowly as you know. They put a pacemaker in after my second collapse. It was so sudden, and I have no idea where it came from, maybe smoking for an entire year when I was in uni, I’m not sure. But I moved here in August, so around that time, I collapsed. Mum rushed me to the hospital and they did a bunch of tests and diagnosed me, and now I have a pacemaker,” he explained calmly.

The feeling in your chest was something you’ve never felt before. The heart tightened as he spoke every word, causing the pain to increase as your heart sank. Your eyes watered, not wanting them to fall because he didn’t need your pity.

“Harry, a-are you okay now?” You asked, voice small.

“Yeah, I think so. Uh, on Saturday at around eleven in the morning, two weeks before we met, I collapsed again. This time, I really couldn’t breathe. It genuinely felt like it was my last day on Earth. My lungs were closing in and my heart was slowing down. My mum was with me at my beach house, and I was lucky that she was there because she immediately called 911 and got me to the hospital.” You looked at him with fear in your eyes as you listened to the gut wrenching story. “I was gone for fifteen minutes, Y/N. Fifteen. It was some sort of miracle…”

Then it suddenly hit you.

It all made sense.

Your heart suddenly opened up fully and the traces of doubt were left behind. Your mind started to piece together the reasons why you haven’t met your soulmate, and it was all right in front of you. The stories and journeys Harry had gone through had all added up.

The beating organ in your chest had pounded so hard that you felt the beat through your ears, making it impossibly hard to hear, but your heart was fluttering uncontrollably that you couldn’t help but smile and blush. You could see it now—his stare. His eyes captivated yours as he looked so deeply into your eyes that you could stay lost in them forever and never worry about a thing. The magnetic pull and attraction towards him felt like you couldn’t hold back; that you wanted to continue being close to him as you inched closer to him.

Your mind was coming up with different theories on why your soulmate was taking so long, but they all concluded to him. To Harry.

It all made sense.

The reason why it took so long for your soulmate to show was because Harry hadn’t moved here until a year and a half ago. He was still back in England getting his doctorate, and the separation between you two made it impossible to meet. Somehow your mind made up the conclusion that the only reason why you two met after Harry living here, in the same building, for a year and a half was because you were still with Eric; your time was spent on someone who wasn’t your soulmate.

“Harry…” you whispered.

His brows raised. “I’m okay now! Really, I am. I don’t think I’ll have any more collapses…” he said knowingly. His tone was like he knew something you didn’t, like he knew you were his soulmate.

“Harry…” you repeated.

“Yeah?” You reached forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Your actions took him by surprise, but he immediately hugged you back, hurrying his face into your shoulder.

You had instantly felt the warmth that he provided, not wanting to pull back. You took deep breaths, and you could physically feel Harry’s heart beating in sync with yours as you two sat in front of each other.

“Why didn’t…you tell me?” You breathed out, eyes glossy as you pulled away from the hug.

Harry noticed your change of emotion and he looked at you with a concerned face. He gently placed his hands on the sides of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb as your tears spilled out.

“Tell you what?” He asked, still clueless.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were my soulmate?” You questioned.

Harry’s breath was caught in his throat. He didn’t know if you were angry or disappointed with him, but you didn’t show any sign of anger, so he slightly relaxed. Your face was filled with confusion, and he wanted to take that away quickly.

“You know?”

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded, tears threatening to spill out.

“I, uh,” he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I felt it immediately when I first met you, and I didn’t think you did yet. I should’ve told you…” he grabbed both of your hands and brought them up to his lips, kissing the back of your hand sweetly.

Harry’s eyes watered. He didn’t know if you were happy that he was your soulmate because you haven’t said anything, so he anxiously kept kissing your hand.

You inched forward, placing your forehead against his as both of your hands were in between you two. Your lips met with his hand before you pulled away.

“I felt it. I felt it all when you told me your story and about your condition. It was like your heart opened up for me and my heart finally had the realization that you were right in front of me—this whole time.” You sniffled. Harry’s tears streamed down his face as the overwhelming feeling was present in his chest, making his heart pound through his chest. Your hearts were in sync with one another, so you placed your hand flat on his chest, feeling the beating organ that was giving you so much life.

“I can’t believe this is happening…” he said in disbelief.

“Harry…I should tell you that, uh, the first time you collapsed—when you were diagnosed with your condition, that was when Eric proposed to me. Your second collapse, a month ago, that was my wedding day. The time you collapsed was when I was at the altar. There were just so many thoughts running around in my head that I physically and mentally couldn’t be in front of my ex because I just knew he wanted the one for me,” you explained.

Harry’s mind immediately clicked. “Then when you left the altar was when I was brought back to life…” he pieced together like a puzzle. His missing puzzle piece was you. Your eyes softened, smiling at him because at least you did some good in the last month. “You saved me.”

“I can’t help but think that I was the one that caused all of this,” you poured, and he shook his head.

“No, no. You didn’t. If you’re going to blame yourself for that, then I’m going to blame myself for getting together with other people back in England, causing you to not believe that you have a soulmate,” he challenged. You shook your head in disagreement. “Then we have nothing to blame ourselves for, okay? We’re here now.”

You placed your forehead against his as you whispered,” Yeah, we are.” You close your eyes for a moment, trying to take in the events. You couldn’t believe that after knowing Harry for more than two weeks, he was your soulmate this entire time.

Pulling away a bit, you looked at him as your eyes glimmered. The tips of your noses touched in the most delicate way as you looked at each other. The room was filled with so much clarity, light, and…love. You smiled softly as the corners of Harry’s lips turned up into a grin, dimples poking out.

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked, eyes looking down at your lips and back to your eyes.

You nodded, your heart beating ten times faster. He moved your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear before gently placing his hands on your cheeks as he moved forward to capture his lips with yours. His touch and lips ignited you as the sparks ran through your body, making you pull him closer. His lips were something you’d never felt before. They were soft, gentle, and loving as he moved in sync with you, meeting your tongue with his in such a passionate and deep way.

You felt completely overwhelmed with happiness as you smiled into the kiss, tears rushing down your face as you knew the wait was finally over. He was here.

Harry moved you on your back as he hovered over you, lips never disconnecting as it was something he wanted to do forever. You ran your fingers through his hair, slightly grabbing onto his curls as you earned a moan against your mouth from him. Involuntarily bucking your hips against him, you felt him grow between your legs in his flared pants as he grinded against your leg.

He pulled away from the kiss only to kiss your jaw and neck, nibbling and sucking your skin, leaving a decent hickey on your skin. Your hands raked his clothed back, and Harry felt the way your nails dragged against his shirt, making his excitement increase because he couldn’t wait to actually feel it against his skin, only if you’d let him.

“C-Can I, uh,” he stumbled with his words.

“Harry, do you think we could wait?” You asked, indicating sex. His eyes widened, immediately getting off of you.

“Oh, yeah! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, don’t be sorry. I just want to wait to do that with you,” you caressed his cheek.

“Okay, that’s fair.” He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips to see if he wasn’t dreaming.

The rest of the night was like this—you laid in his arms, stealing kisses from one another. He held you tightly, afraid that you would leave once he loosened his grip, but you were right where you needed to be.

A week went by, and you were happier than ever. You were in complete bliss with Harry, and you never wanted that feeling to stop. It seemed like Nonna was happier than you because she’d been waiting for this moment for so long. She wanted to see you happy, even Harry, you being happy together just made her heart warm.

You were just getting back home from doing some shopping when your phone rang. Assuming that it was your soulmate, you smiled as you searched for your phone through your purse. But what you didn’t expect was to see the contact that you have been waiting a month for.

“Eric? Hi,” you said surprisingly.

“Hey. Uh,” he chuckled. “This is a bit weird, isn’t it? I just wanted to call to see if you were free to talk.”

Your eyes widened. “Yeah! I just got home. Do you want to swing by right now if you’re available?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. The same apartment, right?”

“The same one. I’ll see you soon,” you confirmed before you bid each other goodbye.

You waited for Eric for about thirty minutes, distracting yourself by cleaning and tidying up your place as you constantly overthought what you were going to say to him. This was going to be the first real conversation you were going to have with him in a month, not to mention the first time you’re seeing him after you ran away and left him at the altar.

There was a hard knock on your door, startling you. You took a deep breath before you answered it, revealing your ex-fiancé.

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled, giving you a hug. He seemed happier and in a better mood than you’d expected.

“Hi, how are you?” You invited him into your home. It still looked the same the last time he came over, which had been quite a while.

“I’m doing good, you?”

“Good as well. Coffee?” You offered.

“Please.”

You made him a cup of coffee, remembering the way he liked it because of the amount of times you’d made it for him in the morning. Setting it on the coaster, you sat on the other end of the couch, facing him. There was a bit of silence between you two—both not knowing where to start the conversation, but you figured you needed to get everything out of your system, so you went first.

“Eric, I’m really sorry for how I left things. I shouldn’t have done it the way I did, and I should’ve talked to you first before we even proceeded to the wedding, but all of a sudden, it clicked. When you were reading your vows, I was just thinking of all the things Nonna said to me, and I realized…you weren’t the one. You weren’t my soulmate,” you explained. Your shoulders relaxed, finally feeling like this was the first step before you got to live your life with Harry.

“Hey,” he reached over to grab your hand. Now, you could say that you really don’t feel the same love as before. His touch wasn’t the same as Harry’s. Eric didn't give you the spark that crawled up your skin, only Harry did. “It’s totally okay. I mean that. I understand why you did that, and I’m glad you did because I knew you weren’t the one for me either, and it took me a while to realize that until…” he trailed.

“Until?” You encouraged him to continue, but it clicked so quickly for you. “You met someone?” He smiled, nodded his head. “Holy shit! What?!” You exclaimed surprisingly. You were the furthest from mad, and you were actually really happy for him.

“I did, yeah. She’s great, honestly. Her name is Mandy and I met her the night of our wedding,” he chuckled. “I went to a bar and met her there. And then I felt it. It’s the most exciting and exhilarating feeling in the world,” he excitedly said.

“Isn’t it?” You raised your brows, and Eric furrowed his brows until he got what you meant.

“Hold on…you…wait…you met yours didn’t you?” He speculated, and you laughed.

“Yeah, I did. Two weeks after our wedding. Actually met him at Nonna’s. Turns out, they’ve known each other for a year and a half. Can you believe that?”

“Actually, I can. Nonna Tallie knows everything. I’m pretty sure she knew that I wasn’t your soulmate too,” he said, laughing. You laughed along, deciding not to tell him that she actually did know.

The rest of the night went on like this. You two caught up, and shared stories and memories that made you laugh when you looked back while pouring yourselves glasses on glasses of wine. You realized that you and Eric were much better as friends, and you’re glad that it didn’t end in a horrendous way because you really cherished and appreciated him.

The night was getting late, and you two were giggling your tipsy hearts out as your eyes were trying theirs best to stay open. You realized you couldn’t fight over your exhausted and drunk self, so you decided to call it a night.

“Uh, you could take the couch since it’s late and you can’t drive,” you offered.

“Really? Thank you,” he smiled. You grabbed him an extra blanket and pillow, and bid him goodnight because you went to the restroom to do your skincare because you never forget to do your night routine no matter how drunk you are.

You crashed onto your bed, closing your eyes as you let sleep and your dreams take over you, dreaming about the loveliest man just above you and how you couldn’t wait to see him again.

When you wanted to see Harry again, you didn’t expect it to be the way you did.

After a long eight hours of dreaming of him, you heard a loud knock on the door, causing you to jolt awake. Still groggy as you were sitting up in bed, you heard footsteps walking towards the door, and you had nearly forgotten Eric was still in your apartment and that he was going to answer the door.

What you didn’t expect was to hear the familiar raspy and deep voice that said ‘Who the fuck are you?’ making you quickly get out of bed and heading towards the door. Eric was shirtless, clearly still sleepy, and Harry was standing on your doorstep with a bag of food in his hands.

The picture looked bad and wrong. With you and Eric just getting out of separate beds, respectfully, and Eric not wearing a shirt, it really wasn’t what it looked like.

“Harry-”

“A-Are you cheating on me?” Harry asked, not knowing if those were the right words. Sure, you were his soulmate, but he hadn’t made things official yet.

“Hey, man-”

“I’m clearly not talking to you,” he interrupted Eric, giving him a stern look.

You gently pulled his face down so he could look at you. “Listen to me, please?” He didn’t say anything, so you continued. “This is Eric, my ex. He came here to talk last night and we had a few glasses of wine and I let him crash on the couch, that’s all.”

Harry nodded, but his face clearly said that he wasn’t convinced. You looked at him with a sad expression, feeling useless on what you could do to get him to believe you.

“You know…” he started. His face looked disappointed, and you wished he flashed you his smile. “I found it odd that you didn’t know I was your soulmate when I first met you, and it hurt me, to be honest. It broke my heart. I waited patiently for you for my entire life, and I waited even more when I met you and you didn’t know that it was me. I get that if you’re still in love with him, I get it. You were together for years, almost forever. But this…” he gestured towards you two. “It looks bad and it hurts me more than ever.”

With that, he walked away. Rushing towards the staircase, you ran after him, calling for him, but he ignored you. His long strides beat yours as he took two steps at a time, and you barely kept up with him, so you just let him be for now. You sat on the cemented stairs, placing your face in your hands as you cried. Your sobs echoed throughout the empty staircase, and your heart felt like it was ripping in half—Harry’s heart breaking just added to your pain as well.

And just when you had gotten your soulmate, you felt like you lost him.

A week had passed since you last saw Harry, and it was one of the longest, frustrating, and painful weeks you ever had to live through.

The face Harry had given you was something you never wanted to see. The displeasurable look made your heart drop every time you thought about it, closing your eyes, it was the only thing you could see.

He wasn’t talking to you, no matter how many times you knocked on his door and said sorry to him through the door that most likely came out muffled from the other side. Throughout the week, you tried your hardest not to get angry for being ignored as you refrained from telling him how unreasonable he was being. But you looked at things from his perspective, and you understood why he felt that certain anxiety of seeing Eric in your apartment…shirtless, might you add.

It took you a while to figure out how that Harry was your soulmate, and you couldn’t imagine the doubt and discouraging feeling he had when you didn’t figure it out right away. You couldn’t imagine what he felt like when he first met you and felt everything indescribable.

For what seemed like the millionth time this week, you walked into Nonna’s house, immediately feeling the warmth and comfort you felt every single time. But it wasn’t the kind of warmth you longed for from a certain someone.

“Hey, Nonna,” you greeted once you entered, finding her on the couch, looking through her photo albums.

“Hi, Chip. Come in and sit with me,” she patted the space next to her, and you gladly walked over, taking a seat, looking at the pictures of her and your grandfather when they were younger.

“My soulmate. Miss you so much,” she said to the picture of the two of them smiling at the camera, touching Papa’s face.

Nonna flipped through the album, telling you stories about every single picture. You loved hearing memories about your grandparents as they brought so much joy to you. Nonna’s stories were the last bit of hope you had in soulmates, and you made sure to never let it go.

You saw Nonna take out a picture out of the slip, pointing at it as she told you another story. “This was me and your Papa when we went to the beach. We were with some friends, and he told me he was going to marry me. This wasn’t where he proposed, but this was when I heard it for the first time. I was surprised, but so in love.” She smiled at the photo of her and her soulmate. Nonna handed you the picture so you could get a better look.

In the picture, they were both sitting in the sand and she was smiling at the camera while Papa was holding her waist, looking at her with so much love. They were such a beautiful couple and quite the lookers.

As you studied the photograph, you noticed a couple in the back who equally looked in love as Nonna and Papa were. But to what shocked you was that the couple in the back looked just like you and Harry. You softly gasped, bringing the picture closer to your eyes, making sure you weren’t just imagining things, but sure enough, the couple looked exactly like the two of you.

“Nonna, look at this. This couple right here,” you pointed at the picture.

She squinted before she gasped herself. “Well, that looks quite like you and my delivery boy.”

“W-Why is that exactly us?” You stuttered, a bit spooked out.

Nonna grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. “Soulmates are destined for your future. What they didn’t tell you, or what I didn’t tell you was that, before you’re born or even conceived, the universe already plans for your soulmate because they’re quick like that. They have this stronghold that they can’t help but put together two people who are made for each other, even if they’re not even on this earth yet. In your case, the universe put you and Harry together in your past lives, way before you both were born. You and Harry were made for each other. Don’t let him go, ever.”

Without even realizing, you felt tears fall from your eyes as she explained. Your heart felt like it was exploding with so much love.

You needed him. You needed the air he provided. The light in your darkest days. The love that fulfilled your heart.

You handed Nonna the picture back, but she waved you off. “Keep it. Go get him, yeah?”

Kissing her cheek in gratefulness, you sniffled as you headed to your home.

You found yourself exactly where you needed to be, knocking on the dark green door with the number 525 in gold.

“Harry, please open the door,” you called out from outside. A frown settled upon your face as you continued to knock. The thought of Harry being on the other side of the door and ignoring you, made your heart ache.

“Can't do that when I’m out here.” You turned your head to see Harry fiddling with his keys with a bag of groceries in his other hand.

You smiled softly, rushing towards him before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pressing yourself against him. “Missed you so much.” Your heart warmed when you felt his arm wrap around your waist, and you smiled into his shoulder. “Can we talk? Please?” You asked once you pulled away, looking at him with pleading eyes. And who was he to say no to that?

“Let’s go inside.” He walked past you, opening the door to let you in. You missed the homey feeling, and one week was too long without stepping foot into his place. He offered you a drink, but you declined, and he joined you on his sofa.

There was an unfamiliar silence where you didn’t know if you should speak or let the silence take over you until the tension finally breaks. Harry wasn’t speaking either as he was waiting for you to speak since you were the one who almost knocked down his door with your fist with the constant knocking.

“I’m sorry, Harry. This week has been brutal and I never want to go without you ever again. I looked at things from your perspective, and yeah, I would be frustrated and disappointed and hurt at me too. I couldn’t imagine what you were going through when you finally found me and I didn’t even know you were right in front of me. And I just want to say I’m sorry. Eric and I are over, and I don’t love him anymore. He’s already found his soulmate, and I have you…at least I think I still have you…” you said all in one breath, and your mind had gone into a spiral because you really didn’t know if you screwed things up.

Harry breathed out a chuckle, smiling to himself as he looked down at his lap. You knew you hadn’t convinced him enough just by the way he’s silent, probably debating with himself in his head if he should believe you. So, you took out the picture Nonna had shown you from your purse, hesitantly giving it to him.

He grabbed the picture and looked at him before he asked, “Who’s this?”

“That’s my Nonna and Papa. Think they were, like, twenty here. But that’s besides the point…look at the couple in the back.” Harry squinted, observing the couple behind Nonna and Papa. The couple were facing the ocean; the woman was sitting in front of the man as his arms were warmed around her body. They were looking at one another, smiling brightly when the world was right in front of them. But their worlds were right in their arms.

You noticed Harry’s eyes widen, looking at the couple again just as you did to make sure he’s not just hallucinating. He turned back to you, speechless, and you nodded.

“That’s us in our past life. Nonna told me that the universe puts couples together even if they’re not born yet. Our souls were born to the stars and the moon. We were destined to be together decades ago, and we are now,” you hesitantly grabbed his hand, and you’re grateful that he didn’t pull away. His touch was on fire that the spark ignited into something so relieving. You looked at him so intently, and you couldn’t pull away. No matter how disappointed he was in you, there was still that sparkle when he looked at you. “Harry, I’m sorry if I made you think that I wasn’t in love with you. There is nothing more in the world than you, and you’re all I want. We’re made for each other, baby. I’ve been in love with you, I’ll be in love with you. Forever.”

Silent tears streamed down Harry’s face as he curled his lips in. His heart was beating at a normal pace, only because it was now filled with the love and warmth that he’s asked for, and it all came from you. You filled that hole in his heart that’s been waiting to be sealed, and now you vowed to take care of it, and love and cherish it.

Harry shifted closer to you and you smiled through your tears. He delicately touched your cheek like you were fragile glass, and you soaked in his touch that made your cheeks warm. You turned your head to kiss his palm as he cradled your face. He brought his face closer to yours and kissed the tip of your nose before resting his forehead against yours. You smiled to yourself; you thought the gesture was sweet and you missed his touch and lips so much that it had made your heart physically ache.

“I’m gonna make you happy, baby, I promise.”

He nodded as his heart forgave you. “And I’ll do the same. Forever.” Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he spoke so softly, and his voice was deeper and raspier. “I was overreacting the last time--I’m sorry. I just closed myself off and-”

“Hey, it’s okay. Your feelings are valid. Let’s talk about it next time, okay?” You softly suggested, and he offered you a small smile of acceptance.

“I’m gonna love you forever,” he said.

“You better,” you teased, smirking slightly as he chuckled.

The tip of your noses touches as you closed your eyes before Harry leaned in and connected your lips together. The lips that were molding with yours had taken you back years, and it was like you had been kissing his lips for the entirety of your life, along with your beating heart that was beating for him all along.

pls let me know your thoughts and feelings on this! thank you for reading <3

#caitlin's fic party #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles ff #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #solo harry #doctor!harry #professor!yn #harry styles friends to lovers #friends to lovers #soulmate!harry #soulmate!au

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annabethy · 3 years

Note

57. “I come here whenever I need a quiet place to think…to sort my head out.”

and/or

36. "How do you even know that this is here?"

in which Percy and Annabeth aren't the best of friends, but meet on the rooftop and discover that maybe, they're exactly what the other needs,, percabeth

It’s two in the morning, and Annabeth finds that she can’t bring herself to sleep.

She tries to hold her eyes shut in hopes of the sleepiness she’s felt all week slipping over her, but another hour passes and she’s still wide awake.

When Annabeth sits up in her bed, she has no intentions of slipping out of the apartment, past her dad’s room, but then she looks out the window where the city lights are awake as can be, and she finds herself already unlocking her window and stepping onto the fire escape.

It’s a long journey up the metal stairs, so she takes her time to appreciate the blow of the winter wind and the noise of New York City that she’s come to love. It’s a biting chill, one that has her wishing she’d put on a jacket prior to her midnight voyage to the top of her apartment building, but it comforting and welcome.

When she does reach the end of the fire escape, she hops onto the ledge of the building and stares off into the skyline. It should be dark so late at night, but instead, it’s glowing. It’s beautiful, she thinks, the industrial feel of the city. It’s so unnatural, but it’s where she’s grown up. She’s used to the honking of horns and the noises that fill the silence.

Annabeth walks along the edge carefully, focusing on the views further in the distance. She wonders if she’d be able to see where the Earth begins to curve and thinks about how big the planet really is (and how small she is in comparison). She can spot the point where the lights seem to have a gap, and she thinks she’s looking at what would be a river in the daylight.

She feels as though she can finally breathe in this moment, though she hadn’t realized how suffocated she had felt before, stuffed into the small space that was her room. Her hair blows in the wind, and she refrains from thinking about how difficult it’ll be to brush it out later. It’s freeing, relieving, and—

“Don’t fall,” a voice warns.

Annabeth rolls her eyes at the voice that is all too familiar, turning her head to she can look over her shoulder. It’s darker atop the building, but even she can spot the mischievous glimmer in her eyes that’s always irked her much more rigid personality.

“Jackson,” she says, a tone of sarcasm in her voice, “What a pleasure.”

“I always am,” he says, grinning. He’s leaning against a metal unit, staring at her, and had they been anywhere else, at any other moment in time, she might’ve made some snarky remark to wipe the grin off his face. She tells herself she doesn’t have the energy to deal with it right now, and that it’s the reason for her silence. “You plan on getting down from there anytime soon?”

“Aw. It’s so sweet you’re worried.” She knows it’s true, despite the small laugh she hears pushed from his lungs. That’s something that she’s discovered about him. Even with the person he hates most in the world, he cares.

“If you fell, people would probably think I pushed you.”

Annabeth snorts.

He’s not particularly wrong. The rivalry they have going on in school is strong, and people probably wouldn’t put murder beyond them.

“Seriously,” he says. “Get down.”

She jumps down from the short ledge towards him. Her eyes adjust slightly to the light, and she can see him better now. He’s in a windbreaker, and his own hair is ruffled in the wind. She finds herself wanting to run her fingers through it before catching herself. It surprises even her – Percy’s made her life nothing but literal hell, and she’d rather die than get caught playing friendly with him.

Annabeth stands next to him but doesn’t sit yet.

“What are you even doing here?” she asks.

“I’m stalking you,” is his answer.

Annabeth kicks him lightly and suppresses a laugh at his dramatic hiss of pain. “What are you actually doing here? You don’t live in this area.”

“I come here whenever I need a quiet place to think…to sort my head out.”

“Percy Jackson can think?”

“Haha, you dick.”

“I’m messing with you,” she says. She chooses then to sit down beside him. She thinks it may be the first time she’s sat near him voluntarily. Annabeth supposes there’s no harm if there’s no one there to see. “How do you even know that this is here?”

Percy shoots her a look, though not an unkind one. It has her neck flushing red despite the temperature outside. “How do I know that this building has a roof?”

“You know what I mean, smartass.”

Percy shrugs and extends his legs. His feet nudge hers playfully. “I’ve lived in this corner my entire life. I know just about everything there is.”

“That’s fair.”

“How about you, Chase? Why is my princess out past curfew?”

Annabeth chooses to ignore the nickname she’s hated for so long (and the way he calls her his).

“Couldn’t sleep,” she admits.

“Something bothering you?”

She hums. “Nothing in particular. I just figured if I was going to be awake, I might as well spend it outside.”

“And spend it with me,” Percy teases, elbowing her lightly.

“Because I love spending time with you,” Annabeth says. There’s a particularly harsh blow of wind that has her crossing her arms over her chest.

“Are you cold?”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you want my jacket?”

Annabeth’s never been one to swallow her pride, but it seems to have gotten significantly colder in minutes, and she’d rather not sit outside for who knows how long without any barrier from the wind. Still, she’s hesitant. “Are you sure?”

Percy chuckles lightly and slips his jacket off his shoulders. “Here.”

When she puts it on, it’s immediate relief. It’s still warm from his body heat, and it smells like him. It’s nicer than she cares to admit, and somehow, she feels comfort in the oversized fabric that she’s practically drowning in.

As she tightens it around her, breathing in the scent of him, she mumbles, “Thank you.”

Percy’s response is a brush against her arm with his fingers.

“So, what were you thinking about?” she asks. “When you came to my secret place?”

“Your secret place?”

“I called dibs. If you wanted it to be yours, maybe you should’ve tried harder.”

Percy gives her his lopsided smile at her remark. “I’m not really sure. Life, I guess.”

“About how you plan to torture me at school next week?”

“Oh, of course.”

“That spider was not funny, you know.”

“It’s because I have a crush on you.”

“And here I thought you hated me.”

“Do you think I would give my jacket to someone I hate?”

“I guess not,” she says, laughing. “You can have it back if you want.”

Percy shakes his head. “I’m alright.”

“Are you sure, though? It’s cold outside, and we’re not exactly best friends.”

He grabs her hand from her lap and squeezes it. “I’m alright, Annabeth. I want you to have it.”

Annabeth bites her lower lip, but gives in, sinking further into the jacket. It’s kind of heaven, she hates to admit. She feels as though she should hate this, spending time with Percy Jackson so late into the night, but somehow, she feels more at home than she has in a long time.

“Also,” Percy begins again, “not best friends?”

“Do you really consider us best friends?”

“I mean…you’d definitely have to define best friends. Two people that playfully bully each other? Sure.”

“Playful?” Annabeth chokes out. “Nothing about our relationship is playful. You hit me in the eye with a pencil a few days ago.”

“In my defense, that was actually an accident. I felt really bad about it.”

“Mh-hm.”

“But that doesn’t mean we’re not friends, right? I mean, I’d totally kiss you if you wanted me to. I think that qualifies as friends?”

Annabeth is no stranger to his lighthearted flirting, so she just rolls her eyes fondly. “That qualifies as something entirely different.”

“Probably.” Percy squeezes her hand again, and she realizes that he’d never actually let go. “But I’m actually going to miss bullying you every day once we graduate.”

“You’ll find a way, I’m sure. You’re going to NYU?”

“And you’re going to Columbia,” he responds back.

“I’ll be close enough to be bullied, then.”

“I guess so. Maybe I don’t want to bully you, though.”

“Aw, bummer. What would our relationship be without your flirtatious bullying?”

“Maybe something more?”

Annabeth looks at him then. He seems to be genuine, and so she finds she can’t look away.

“I do actually consider us friends, Annabeth. I mean it.”

Somehow, she knows he does.

“I guess friends isn’t so bad,” Annabeth says quietly, “if sitting up here is any indication.”

“We could have our weekly ventures to our secret spot.”

“My secret spot,” she corrects.

Percy grins brightly.

“But I wouldn’t be so opposed to that, as long as you never try to hit me with a pencil.”

“I didn’t mean to the first time,” he says lightly.

“Then friends,” she says.

“We’re living our own enemies to lover story.”

“Ew. Never mind. I don’t want to be your friend.”

“Aw.”

Annabeth just muffles a laugh into the sleeve of his jacket, choking out a quick kidding, and he pinches her in indignation. They fall into a silence, and the sounds of New York drown out in her ears. All she can hear is the rhythm of his breathing, and she can only focus on the warmth of his body.

“Do you actually have a crush on me?” she asks, suddenly curious.

“Maybe I do. I guess you’ll just have to stick around long enough to find out.”

Annabeth’s heart flutters. “I guess I will.”

Really, she’s starting to think maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world. Perhaps he’s never been as awful as she’s been telling herself. Maybe it was always just her pride.

Maybe Percy Jackson is exactly what she’s always needed.

Annabeth really has no control over it when her eyes begin to flutter shut. She doesn’t even realize it’s happening until Percy opens his arms towards her – an invitation – and she slides right in. His arms wrap around her, his face pressing into the top of her head, and she lets herself drift into the sleep she’s been wishing for.

She doesn’t wake up until the sun begins to peek over the horizon. She’s nestled deep against him, able to feel every breath he takes and hear his heartbeat. He’s sleeping when she lifts her head, so she allows herself to fall back against him, a subtle smile on her face.

It’s unexpected, but she feels safe in his embrace. It’s warm and happy in their secret spot, and she never wants to leave.

Annabeth stays here with him, in their secret spot, for just a bit longer.

#percabeth #percy jackson #pjo #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 4 years

Text

Welcomed Distraction

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Damon Salvatore x Reader

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: Mentions of plotting murder but nothing else?

Author’s note: Welcome to fluff week! And here is how we're gonna start the week off. With a very Anti-Valentines day fic. What other way is there to start this holiday? XD I swear this is the only anti vday fic I have for this week. It is kinda Vday centered, so it's not like ya'll are missing out. Plus I needed this scenario. And I could only picture Damon for this so, here you go!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things

Flires covered the halls with posters for the dance this weekend. The Bitter Ball was meant for all of those that were heartbroken could get together and express how much they hated Valentine's Day. Of course those that celebrated were going to be out on their dates, spending their time with their loved ones.

Y/N wouldn’t be going out on a fancy date. Nor would she be spending her time at the Bitter Ball. It wasn’t like she had recently experienced heartbreak that would make her want to attend the dance. She was just single.

She had tried proving several times that there was nothing wrong with it. But of course her friends had tried setting her up with someone days before, but it didn’t end up working out. And Y/N actually preferred that. Why spend the money to show off how much you love someone on one specific day.

This way she could stay home for the night. It meant she could stay in her pajamas and binge watch whatever was on Netflix that caught her interest. There was no need to get dressed up for anyone and that was how she wanted it. All that was needed was an assortment of junk food and a drink of her choice.

And it was as Y/N was getting ready to plop into her bed and begin watching a serial killer documentary when there was a knock at her door. For a brief moment, she thought of just ignoring it and climbing into bed. But the other part of her believed that if it was anyone had to come find her, it must have been important and left her room to go answer the door.

Her eyebrow raised as she took in Damon Salvatore standing on the opposite side. She could see he had obviously been dressed for the Bitter Ball. The all black outfit had given that away seeing as it was a requirement for it.

“You know, when I was told everyone was heading to the Bitter Ball, I was surprised not to see you there.” Damon said as he leaned against the doorframe.

“I’m not bitter.” Y/N said as she took a step back to allow him to enter her home. “I’m single. There’s a difference.”

“I doubt everyone that’s there isn’t exactly bitter.” He said as he walked in.

Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “Caroline is bitter.” She noted. “You on the other hand, I can't exactly figure out why you’d want to go to the anti-valentines day ball.”

It was his turn to chuckle. “A bitter heart tends to lead to nights of very entertaining activities.” A smirk pulled at his lips, causing her to roll her eyes. “I mostly went because I thought my partner in crime would be there to be miserable with me. But she wasn’t there and when I found her, she’s ready to veg out without so much as giving me an invite.”

Her eyebrow raised. “I never took you for wanting to stay in and just eat junk food while watching serial killer documentaries.”

“Not with just anyone.” He said with a shrug. “But with you, I’d do it.”

Y/N eyed him a moment. For as long as she had known the man standing in front of her, she had never just been content to just sit there and watch documentaries. After a few seconds she nodded her head. “100 says you’ll get bored and start complaining about some of the cases.”

Damon laughed and shook his head. “That’s a bet I’ll take and even win.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” She said with a shake of her head as she began making her way back towards her room with him in tow.

As they both had settled into Y/N’s bed, Damon had every intention of winning the bet. If it meant he could spend some time with Y/N, he was going to do so. At least that was until they got some details wrong about a case that he had personally had a part in and that seemed to irk him.

A smirk had pulled at Y/N’s lips as she watched him from the corner of her eye. She could see the way his face either scrunched up in disbelief at the facts that had been pouring out of the narrator. Or even the way he sat up straighter and crossed his arms over his chest. It was in complete contrast to how laidback and comfortable Y/N had been.

“Just admit it, you’re ready to complain.” Y/N said as she never took her eyes off the tv.

Damon shook his head. “Never. Just really getting into this amazing documentary with all the wrong facts.”

Y/N laughed and stuck out her hand towards him. “That was a complaint. And I’ll take my money now.”

“That was not a complaint.” He said shaking his head as he looked over at her. “That was merely an observation.”

“An observation, my ass.” She chuckled. “That was a complaint on how they have the wrong information.”

“One would say that’s an observation that they gave credit to a serial killer, when in fact it was a Vampire.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“What other observations do you have to voice?” She asked with a raised brow knowing she was about to win the bet.

“For one, they managed to say this guy had over 50 victims when, let’s be honest is more like 10 and was given credit for some that were not in fact his.” Damon continued on with every ‘observation’ he noticed during the first hour of what they’ve seen.

It was as Y/N rolled over on her stomach and propped her head on her fist, and a small smirk pulled at her lips that Damon realized he had gone into a full blown tangent on just how wrong the documentary had been. He had stopped mid sentence and took in her position and shook his head.

“Fine, you win.” He said with a roll of his eyes.

She began laughing away at his reaction and her laughter grew at seeing the slightest pout form on his lips. Damon was the one that usually won bets against a lot of people. But when it came to Y/N, she somehow won them. Even when her odds were against her.

The group used to say that was her supernatural ability. To be able to make bets go in her favor. But Y/N was as ordinary as they came. She wasn’t a relative of anyone special, she wasn’t descended from any kind of witch coven or royalty. She was as human as they came and she preferred that.

The moment the laughter died down, Damon watched her for a moment. “Want to talk about it?” He asked, keeping his attention on her.

His words hadn’t caught her off guard. She had been expecting them from the moment he had shown up at her door. But even then, her face fell and she looked away from him as she thought about it.

She may not have been bitter, but Y/N had gone through a bad heartbreak almost a year ago. One that left her broken in a way she’d never believed she would ever feel. That had been before she met the Salvatores and found out about the world she now lived in. While her friends had known about it, they always tried to get her back on the horse. But she never had been ready to do it.

“I don’t think I am.” She said with a shake of her head. “One day I’ll be able to talk about it without reliving it.” Even as she spoke of it now, she felt an emotion bubbling within her. “That time is just not right now.”

Damon laid back on the bed so that he was leveled with her. “You know I could always make him some serial killer’s next victim.”

Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “I think that would complete your previous offers of compelling, eating him and ripping his heart out.”

He smirked. “Just say the word, point me in the right direction and it’s done. No questions asked.”

“I’m surprised someone hasn’t done it already.” Knowing her friends, she was expecting it. Especially with the way everyone went behind each other’s backs from time to time to make sure they were safe.

“Oh, we’ve been tempted.” He said with a nod. “Okay, mostly me, but that’s because I'm impulsive and usually don’t care what other people say.”

“What stopped you this time?” She asked, curious. As Damon had said, he did things without thinking. And the fact that he had thought about doing so from time to time and not actually doing it had surprised Y/N.

“Because, believe it or not, while I’m impulsive and do things behind the backs of the people I care about, I don’t think I’d be able to handle your reaction afterwards.” He nodded his head. “I can handle everyone else being angry with me, or even hating me for a period of time, but I don’t think I could handle it coming from you.”

Y/n nodded her head as she took in his words. “I don’t think I could hate you, Damon. You could go out there and kill him tonight without me knowing and I still wouldn’t hate you for it. I’d probably thank you in the morning once I found out.”

“Well,” He said with a smirk pulling at his lips. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard someone be okay with murder.”

She chuckled as she pointed towards the still playing documentary. “It would be interesting to see what details they’d get wrong when you’re the culprit.”

While she may have been only slightly joking, the whole conversation had distracted her from the hurt that she had been secretly hiding from the others. Planning out a revenge with a vampire was the last thing she had been expecting to do tonight. But the way it happened showed she was getting better.

Because creating a hypothetical murder scene with a vampire is just the next step of the healing process.

Always and Forever Tags:

@taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @buckysarm4 @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @mrs-jackson-kenner @hellotvshowtrash @dpaccione @dumble-daddy @theactressstaringinyourbaddream @maldita-world @nikmikaelsonswife @mikaelson-emma @elijahs-wife @moon-child-writer @xoxo-nikki-xoxo @njeancastro316

#the originals #the vampire diaries #damon salvatore #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon Salvatore x reader #reader insert #fluff week #Damon Salvatore fics #Damon Salvatore one shot #is this even fluff?#Y'all I'm gonna admit that im having trouble writing this week #Dom does fluff #we'll see how the day goes

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bobohunn · 4 years

Text

The 56th Street

Title : 56th Street

Pair : baekhyun x reader, baekhyun x you

Genre : angst, fluff, one shot

Warnings : language, and mentions of stalking, divorce and non consensual taking of pictures (not between pair)

Word count : 3k

Note : Italicized words are character/reader’s thoughts; indented (blockquote) and italicized paragraphs are flashbacks.

“Are you busy right now?” a husky voice found its way to your ear from the other side of the line.

“No. Thank god,” you mumbled before letting a deep sigh leave your lips.

After ages, you finally heard your favorite sound on earth again.

It was the sound that went a little too high while singing along to Queen and Michael Jackson songs that played on the radio in your room while you did homework at 3 pm. The one that rang loud throughout the whole house while you danced to random and silly steps on the stage that is your bed at 3 am.

It was the same sound that went two octaves lower when you teased him too much about the little crush he seemed to harbor for the girl who sat beside him in 11th grade or when you asked him for one of his friend’s number. One that carried sweet nothings with it to your blushing ears the first time you got drunk on your birthday.

It was the very same sound that was once your refuge and salvation. The very same that calmed the erratic beating of your heart when you were nervous. One that chased your tears to crawl back up and hide in the corners of your round eyes when life enveloped you into darkness.

The voice you’ve been longing for more frequently these days.

Your best friend’s voice.

He chuckled, his low register ringing through your eardrums. “Are you at home?”

“No, but I’m walking home,” you say almost too softly, trying not to sound too excited.

There was a long period of silence. If you didn’t know Baekhyun enough, you would have already ended the call at the lack of response. However, you knew him way too well to see (hear) that he was still thinking about what he would say. So you just continued walking on your path slowly, occasionally looking over your shoulders in case you were blocking somebody’s way.

“You’re walking on that street again, aren’t you?” He hummed before asking in a very knowing tone. It took you a moment to process his question, so when you were about to defend yourself, Baekhyun had already started his nagging, “I told you not to take that street when I’m not with you!”

You smiled a bit at the realization that although you didn’t even answer yet, he already knew the truth. And your smile grew more prominent at the thought that he still knows you better than anyone.

The only person you wanted to remember you still knows you like you were the back of his hand. And you‘re not anywhere near remarkable for anyone— or even just for him at least, to remember you. Isn’t that an achievement for you?

Snorting out a laugh, you said, “Sorry, Baek. It’s the fastest way home.”

No. Actually, it’s the street that reminds me of you most.

It was the quietest street in your town, 56th street, both your favorite route to take. It was the street that held a huge part of your memories together with him and had all the little moments that piled up into ones you’ll treasure forever. The road that witnessed both of you grow from the innocent little boy and girl you once were to the lovely man and woman you both are today.

It’s the street that reminded you of when you first heard him laugh,

“Since we’re neighbors, and I’m new here, can’t you show me around the town?” the little boy said as he lifted his hands to his neck to scratch at the skin right below his jaw, making you stare at them in awe.

You snapped yourself out of your short trance and said blankly, “The only places I know are my house and the school.”

As cliché as it may sound, everything around you moved in slow motion as the side of the boy’s lips rose to his tinted cheeks. His eyes turned upside down, and his eyebrows raised. He laughed lightly before asking, “Then, should we see where this street ends?”

Of when you first saw him pout,

“Baekhyun, no. We have to go home,” you said as you continued on your track without looking back at him. He went silent, and a smirk crept up your face.

However, it grew too suspiciously silent. So you stopped walking and turned your head back, only to find a sulking Baekhyun. His hands were in his pockets, eyebrows knit together, cheeks puffed out, and his lower lip pouty. He slowly looked back up at you with his puppy eyes that always won you over.

“Oh my god, don’t give me that look. You’re making my head hurt.”

He moved closer to you and grabbed one of your hands, “I’ll stay over at yours for dinner so your mom won’t scold you for too long. Just please come with me to the supermarket. I’m really craving ice cream,” he said with his eyes quivering from left to right.

He’s onto something. “What do you have up in your sleeve, Mr. Byun? Tell me, or I’m not going with you,” you said as you narrowed your eyes at him.

He looked away from you and landed his gaze towards the ground again, “Y-you, I heard y-you crying in your room last night. I just want to buy you ice cream to cheer you up because I won’t be able to sleep knowing I hadn’t done anything for you before this day ended.”

When you first heard him curse and get mad,

“Excuse me, Dude. But what are those photos for?” you heard a familiar voice from behind you. Recognizing it as Baekhyun, you quickly looked over your shoulder to greet your friend.

“A-ah i-it’s just for documentation purposes for our group study,” stuttered the other guy whose back was turned to you.

You called out Baekhyun’s name, confused about the current situation laid in front of you. Your friend only raised his head to you and motioned for you to come to him, “do you know this guy?”

You approach the two men, curious as to who the other person is. When you caught a glimpse of the unfamiliar face, you slowly shook your head no. “I don’t think so. Do I have to?”

Baekhyun clicked his tongue and clenched his jaw. He sneered a little and turned his head to the side, making you more confused.

“The next time you make a fucking excuse, make sure it’s not as stupid as you look. Stop being a fucking pervert, you fucking stalking asshole.”

And of when you first heard him cry.

“Oh my god, Baekhyun, what happened?” you said as you brought the taller man’s head to your shoulder. You tried to rub his back and smooth out the creases of his school uniform, but he just started wailing more.

He was leaning into you, and you couldn’t take his weight anymore, so you guided him to sit down on the sidewalk. You tried to pull away from him, but he planted his face deeper into your neck, so you just hugged him tighter and drew unnamed patterns on his arms.

When his sobbing finally toned down, you tugged at his chin and made him look up at you. The redness of his nose, along with the tears in and around his eyes, made your heart hurt. Who on earth would try to make this man cry?

“You’re not telling me what happened?” you whispered as you wiped the tears that continued to drop down his cheeks.

“My mom wants to divorce my dad.”

You heard a small huff from his end, making you chuckle loud enough for him to hear.

You tilted your head to your side and pictured how he would have looked if he were actually walking with you today. Would he have had his hair down or gelled back? Would he have worn the oversized hoodies you told him were your favorite on him? Would he have walked in all his glory on the sidewalk in his new Js? Would he have looked at you with loving eyes, like he did back then?

“Still! Didn’t I tell you that I’d be mad and not call you if you walked there alone? That street is so quiet and far from people. It’s too dangerous!” he whined again.

A bitter taste started to spread in your mouth. You took a deep breath of the crisp air, “Yeah. I know it’s dangerous.”

Dangerously silent and lonely without you.

“Do you remember? That time when I told you to go home without me because I had fun playing football with my classmates?” he paused for you to answer, but he knows that you remember it anyway.

Yeah, when I almost cried, thinking you didn’t want to hang out with me anymore?

He laughed, “I think I hit my head somewhere that time, and I realized that I wanted to walk home with you. So I ran to catch up with you, but then I saw a guy taking pictures of you from the back.” You chuckled a little at how fast his tone changed from happy to angered towards the end.

You added in, “And you cursed him with all your heart, and I had to drag your boiling ass home or else you would have had a swollen hand.”

And when I thought my heart would explode, seeing you all worked up and protective of me.

You stopped walking and recalled how it exactly happened, where you exactly were, and what you exactly felt. While reminiscing, you could almost see the image of your younger self pulling the younger Baekhyun, who couldn’t take his eyes off the stranger who stalked you, pass by in front of your eyes.

“Yup. I decided to walk home with you every day since then. But now that I can’t, I made you promise not to walk 56th street, didn’t I?” Baekhyun said in a sing-song tone.

“Sorry,”

“I’ll let it go this time. But next time I really won’t call you for three months! Or even six months!” He taunted.

Even if I kept my promise and never walked on the same street again, when the time comes, you’d probably stop calling me.

“How are you?”

“I’m okay here. Training is getting hard, though. But I bet you five tubs of ice cream that I’m gonna be on national TV in 3 months!”

I need not bet because I know you’ll make it. It’s your lifelong dream, after all.

“[Y/N]! [Y/N]!” Baekhyun beamed from your porch as he took off his shoes. You watched him with confused eyes from the couch of your father’s living room.

“What?”

He quickly approached you and pulled you up from your seat, “it’s time for us to take a walk. Long since we’ve done it, no?”

You and Baekhyun took your precious time to walk. One whole step before the other, as if scared that the sidewalk would run out if you walk faster.

You didn’t really say anything to each other, but the sound of the spring birds singing and your soles rubbing against the bricks on the sidewalk made you both feel entertained.

With longer legs and bigger feet, Baekhyun was walking slightly ahead of you. Having to catch up with his steps, you walked faster, eager to walk side by side with him. But he noticed that you were trying so hard to keep up with him, so he tried to make his steps smaller. Then, he moved closer to you until your hips touched each other.

It was always like this with Baekhyun. You’d take a walk together on 56th street without saying anything, and you’d still enjoy it. He would always end up walking ahead of you, and you would ever walk behind him. Then, when he notices that he’s walking too fast for you, he would start taking smaller steps so you could keep up with him. And when he thinks he’s walking slow enough to match your pace, he would close the gap between your bodies by putting an arm around your shoulders or waist or just by feeling your sides against his.

“I li-“

“I’m leaving,” Baekhyun started, cutting off what you wanted to say.

“What?” Your voice came out shaky, unsure of what you heard.

Baekhyun stopped walking, “I said I’m leaving. I’m leaving for the city.”

You blinked your eyes twice. Stiff as you were, you tried to open your mouth to say something which you couldn’t seem to remember anymore. Baekhyun giggled at how you looked.

“I’m gonna be an idol, [y/n]. I’m going to be a singer.” he said as his eyes twinkled with joy.

How? Where? When? Why? You wanted to ask him, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to move even a muscle except for your eyes.

“A company scouted me at graduation. They said I had the potential to be a singer. I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure, but now I am.” He said while looking up at the cloudless sky.

You didn’t know how it happened, but you only managed to speak out the words, “I’m happy for you, Baekhyun.”

You didn’t see Baekhyun the week after that walk because he was busy packing, and you were busy denying to yourself that he was leaving. So when you saw him from your window pushing boxes unto the trunk of his parents’ SUV with his hair white as snow, you couldn’t help but jump out from where you were standing.

You accidentally pushed your windowpane in an attempt to save your face from kissing the wooden floor, and it made a noise loud enough for Baekhyun to look up at your room. He waved up at you and motioned for you to meet him outside.

“Are you leaving today?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I wasn’t able to tell you,” Baekhyun said as he scratched the skin under his ear. He always did this when he was in an awkward situation.

You stared at him without speaking. You took in how he looked for the last time. But you realized that it was too much for you. He was too much for you. So you focused on his now white hair that rested against his scalp, seemingly tired from the process of bleaching.

Baekhyun only smiled at you like a child that was offered candies and delight. You moved closer to him, eyes exploring his face and stopping at his lips for a few seconds before losing confidence again.

His name softly left your lips, to which he only hummed in response.

“I,” you paused for a moment, maybe two? or three. You don’t know.

Baekhyun’s eyebrows almost hit his hairline.

“I like your hair.” you said with a smile.

“Don’t I look like a real celebrity now?” he said as he let his fingers run through his locks.

“You do,” he always did.

You let yet another chuckle escape your mouth, although the last thing you wanted to do was laugh. “I’m still your best friend, right?” you questioned, though you were scared he’d say no.

However, you heard a different voice from his end of the call shout, “Baekhyun! 10-minute break is over!” and your friend responded with something you couldn’t catch. All that you knew was that he was laughing with someone, their voices slowly fading as if they were walking away from the phone.

He’s happier now. Even happier than when he was with me.

You used to associate his laugh with flowers, candies, love, and everything sweet. But now you can’t help but feel bitterness crawl up your spine, like a vine climbing its way up the walls and lampposts.

The cold and long blow of the wind made you feel nostalgic (if you weren’t yet), and you wanted as much to let it take you to wherever your heart is, where Baekhyun is.

“I have to go [y/n]! I’ll call you again soon!” he quickly said before a long beep was heard, announcing the end of the call.

Months passed, and you are still waiting for when his name flashes as the caller ID on the screen of your phone. Maybe he’s busy? Or he lost my number? Perhaps he changed his phone?

You wanted to ask his parents for his new number or even just how their son was doing. But you were surprised to find out that they already moved out of the house next to yours, when you returned from your grandparents’ house for a 3-week vacation. You wanted to ask your parents if they had his parents’ number, but then you decided that seeing him on TV and your phone screen was enough for you.

He’s clearly doing well.

He has got to be doing well. How could he not when he has been flashing the cameras the widest and prettiest smiles? The kind of smiles you never witnessed when he was with you.

He’s clearly happier than ever.

Although you kept saying that you were happy for him too, you just can’t deny that you do feel jealous of how far he had come. It was just like the long and silent walks you took with him throughout 56th street before: he was always steps ahead of you, and you were burning in jealousy behind him because of the advances his relatively longer legs brought him. Except that he was miles and dreams ahead of you now, and he couldn’t slow down his pace to match yours and stay by your side anymore.

He’s way too far ahead to turn and run back to me.

He’s probably living a better life.

He probably has funnier (best) friends to laugh with.

He probably has prettier eyes to stare at, softer hands to hold, and more comfortable shoulders to lean on.

He probably has a new favorite street to walk with somebody new. Somebody who’s better, somebody who’s not you.

And you started to accept that little by little.

You had started to move on.

You started to forget.

You finally let go.

But you kept the promise you made him.

You never walked 56th street again,

because he’s not there with you anymore.

—

#baekhyun #baekhyun angst #baekhyun fluff #exo #bobohunn writes #fanfiction #kpop #exo baekhyun #byun baekhyun #bbh #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you

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wordsfromthesol · 4 years

Text

Research Paper

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary: You and Tim get assigned to complete a research paper together. The two of you end up spending way more time together than originally planned. Warnings: Cursing and balls of fluff Word Count: 2k A/N: I still have a few requests, they are coming I just haven’t had too much time to write new stuff...so I’ve been posting old stories I’ve already completed.

The two of you sat at your dining room table, typing away at various research sites and scribbling down miscellaneous notes that could be helpful later. Finally, you looked up at your silent partner.

“So, why the rush to get this research paper done?”

“I’m busy. This is when I have time to do it.”

“Hm –” Before you could continue the thought, Tim cut you off.

“Look, I know you don’t want to be paired with the weird kid. Let’s just finish this and you don’t have to talk to me anymore.”

“Woah there Tim, relax. I don’t know anything about you. Especially not enough to qualify you as the weird kid.” You watched his face turn a slight shade of crimson. “Ya’know, there’s only 20 kids in this class. I bet if you actually talked to some of them you would make friends.” You got up from your seat and sauntered into the kitchen. “So weird kid, you want something to drink?”

“Oh…uhm…I’m fine.” You chuckled to yourself as he stuttered through his response.

“Well, if you insist on completing this in one night, I need some wine. Sure you don’t want a glass?”

“Okay…” Tim hesitantly responded.

The bottle was gone and you began to spiral down a YouTube worm hole. Clicking video after video, ending up on the ever popular topic of vigilantes. “Why do you think they do it?” You mumbled out loud, forgetting your research partner was still sitting across from you.

“Why does…” Tim tugged at your computer and glared at the screen before him. The video was paused on an image of Nightwing and Red Robin. He remembered that night. Mr. Freeze had armed some kind of mass freeze ray in the subway system. There were 5 casualties that night. His voice echoed throughout the room. “Sometimes the police aren’t enough. They have too much red tape or not enough training to handle certain criminals.”

“There’s just so many of them…”

“I think they need each other. Each one making sure the others don’t cross a line they can’t come back from. Keeping them responsible for their actions.”

“You think they aren’t just inherent do-gooders running around?”

“No. I don’t. This city is a toxin, no one born of it is inherently good. Everyone comes to a crossroads, some chose to go left and others, right. Once one goes to the left, you may never go back. However, those who chose to go right are always tempted to take a shortcut to the left. Even knowing they could never return.”

“Dang…you should write a book or something Tim.”

“Just a lot of experience I suppose?” You furrowed your brows and shot him a questioning look. “I was…uhm…rescued by Batman awhile back. Though not before my parents were poisoned.”

“I’m so sorry…” Your eyes cast to the ground as your hand reached across the table, landing atop of his. “I didn’t know.”

Tim brushed it off, “I didn’t expect you to know. I don’t advertise it. Anyways, how’s the ACTUAL research coming along.” You rolled your eyes and turned back towards your computer.

Tim realized he hadn’t heard from you in awhile, so he glanced up from his computer. You were asleep at the table. His eyes shot over to the clock, 4:07am. “Shit.” He mumbled under his breath. Tim then sat there debating what to do for several minutes before pushing his chair back and taking you up in his arms. He laid you on your bed, draping the covers over you, before heading back into the dining room. Almost as soon as Tim sat back at his computer, his phone buzzed.

Don’t forget to get some sleep tonight, baby bird.

Dick had started sending reminders almost every night. Tim debated ignoring it, until more messages came in. Jason, Damian, Barbara, Stephanie, even Cassandra had texted him. Dick truly went all out tonight.

I swear if I have to listen to Dick complain about you not sleeping one more time, I will lose it. Go the fuck to sleep, replacement.

Drake, I was just informed to remind you to sleep tonight. May this serve as that reminder.

Dick just let me know you haven’t slept the past two nights. The body can only properly survive without three nights of sleep. Please sleep.

Timothy Jackson Drake. If you do not sleep tonight, I will be forced to take drastic action. One word: computer.

Don’t make me come knock you out.

Tim quickly sent a group message to everyone. Everyone calm down. It’s only been a day and a half. I’m going to sleep now. And Steph, don’t even look at my fucking computer. Tim sighed and threw himself on your couch, welcoming some much-needed sleep.

You woke up very confused. You glanced around your room, you definitely did not remember going to bed. You threw your legs over the side and noticed you were still completely dressed. What the fuck. Hesitantly, you opened your bedroom door. Your eyes darted around the room, noting the two computer still at the dining room table. Tip-toeing over to the living room, you saw Tim passed out on the couch, his phone buzzing beside him. You attempted to end the call, but it answered instead. Shit shit shit. You leapt as far from Tim as you could before whispering into the phone.

“Look I didn’t mean to answer this, but Tim is asleep…and he strikes me as the kind of person who doesn’t get much –” The man on the other end cut you off.

“I’m sorry, who is this? Why do you have my brother’s phone?”

“Oh…uhm…I’m in class with him. We were partnered on a research paper. He slept…is sleeping here.” You heard the man sigh before he continued.

“Do me a favor and try not to wake him, but tell him Dick called when he does get up.”

“Uh…sure…”

“Oh and put his phone on silent…actually I’ll just block the calls from here. Oh and thanks...I didn’t actually get your name.”

“Y/N.”

“Right, thanks again Y/N.”

You hung up the phone on the weirdest conversation ever and set it next to his computer. You snatched yours up and went back into your bedroom. Might as well get some work done while you waited for Tim to wake up. A few more hours passed and you heard footsteps coming from your living room. Thank god, I so need coffee. You threw open the door and saw Tim standing over his computer.

“Oh, uhm, sorry I slept here last night.”

You waved off the apology, “No problem. What time did we stop?”

“I noticed you were asleep at like 4 in the morning. So I…” Tim ran his finger through his hair, “I just figured the bed was more comfortable.” You smirked as you watched his face turn crimson. Stronger than he looks apparently. “Then I thought it was probably best not to leave that late…so I just crashed on the couch.”

“So we didn’t finish then? As in you better not have finished it without me.”

Tim held up his hands in defense. “No no, I stopped once I saw you were asleep.”

“Well…want coffee and some...” you glanced at the clock. It was nearly noon, “brunch I guess.”

“Oh, uh…if you’re offering? Then sure, I guess.”

“Great, then we can just finish up today.” You made your way to the kitchen, “Oh your brother called.”

Tim’s eyebrows furrowed, “which one?”

“You have multiple? Uh…Dick, I think he said.”

“Yeah, three of them. Do you mind if I call him back?”

You shook your head as you put on the coffee. Tim grabbed the phone from the table and went into your bathroom.

“Dick? Is something wrong?”

“Nah, Alfred just told me you hadn’t been back to the Manor yet. Wanted to make sure we didn’t need to send search and rescue.”

“I’m fine. Listen, do you mind if you cover my patrol tonight?”

“Oh, hot date with Y/N?”

“How do you – nevermind. No, we are finishing a project.”

“Hm, whatever you want to tell yourself Timmy. She seemed sweet on you though.”

“How – who even says that anymore? Are you 60 years old?”

“Awe, look who’s deflecting.”

“Bye Dick!” Tim screamed into the phone before hanging up on his brother.

After brunch was had, the two of you got back to work. However, it didn’t take long for you to get sidetracked.

“Alright, if I sit in this damn chair for another minute I’m going to have permanent back problems. I’m moving to the couch.” You huffed out, before scooping up your computer and plopping down sideways with your back against the armrest. Surprisingly, Tim joined you, propping is feet up on the coffee table. Once the two of you moved to the couch, no more work got done.

“So you close with your family?” You began the barrage of questions. People often called you out for being nosy, but you still couldn’t help it.

“Oh,” Tim glanced up from his computer. “Yeah, I suppose. Too close sometimes.”

“Eh, they wouldn’t be family otherwise. I gather you have a big one?”

“What are we playing 20 questions?”

“Just curious…”

Tim huffed, but began to answer your question anyways. “Yeah, I guess. Though it’s a family forged from bonds, not blood.”

“I’d say that’s the better kind. You chose to stay with and support them, as opposed to being guilted into it because they’re family.”

“Well that clearly struck a chord.”

You shrugged it off, “So three brothers. Blood or bond?”

“Well…a forced bond? Bruce adopted all of us, except Damian I guess.”

You continued to pose questions to your newfound friend, though you found getting most answers was like pulling teeth. Eventually, you made progress and after a few hours you closed your laptop, which had been long since asleep, and tossed it to the floor. “I vote take away and a movie.”

“But we haven’t finished.” Tim argued.

“And I don’t think we are going to tonight. Come on, we still have a month. Relax a little, we’re like 75% done anyways.”

“I –” Before he could protest further you pulled yourself off the couch and reached for your phone.

“I vote Thai.”

You heard a sigh come from the other end of the couch, “Sounds good.” A smile grazed your face as you placed the order and settled comfortably back on the couch. You turned on the movie and didn’t realize you were laying half on Tim until the doorbell roused you. This time it was your turn to don a shade of red. Thankfully, it was too dark for Tim to see.

The food was gone and the movie continued to play in the background, but the two of you were fast asleep laying against each other. That was, until Tim heard a knock on the window. He looked up to see the familiar costumes of his older brothers. He gently held you in place with one arm, while stretching to grab his phone with the other. Tim quickly typed a message.

I’m clearly alive. Leave me the fuck alone.

Tim saw Dick smirk through the window just before a bright white light shone through. Tim’s phone buzzed.

Look Timbers found someone to put up with him.

Of course Jason just had to send that in the group message. Tim typed out his response.

I’m muting this conversation until further notice. Also I’m never telling you guys where I am ever again.

That’s alright, I’m sure Y/N won’t mind telling me. We had a great conversation earlier.

Tim ignored the baited message Dick sent and threw his phone to the other side of the couch before settling back into the comfortable position at your side.

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years

Text

Sub Rosa [64]

vi. exit wounds

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: angst (we sad, my friends), injuries, blood.

Summary: heartbroken, you try to navigate your life and an impending war, all while trying to keep it together.

a/n: i feel like yall have been wanting this update since i broke your heart on friday, so here we are!!! the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

As soon as Octavia announces the retreat, you offer to take Indra and a few of the other badly injured people back to Polis in the rover to see Jackson. Octavia gives you her blessing, especially when she sees you warily eyeing Echo and Bellamy. You know you have her sympathy, your dislike for Echo just as strong as Octavia’s. Clarke and Madi offer to ride with you, to keep you company, but you deny them, wanting to spend the time alone.

After the last few people are loaded into the back of the rover, you head towards the driver’s side door, ready to drive off. As you reach for the handle, you hear someone call your name, and the voice makes your stomach sink, aware of exactly who is calling out to you. You hesitate, trying to decide if you want to turn and face Bellamy right now, but the very thought of doing so brings tears to your eyes and you decide against it. Instead you pull yourself into the rover and drive off, ignoring him as you drive the vehicle past him. Only once he’s behind you do you spare a glance in the rearview mirror, watching as he looks at the retreating rover with heartbreak.

You scoff, annoyed that he’s upset when it’s you that should be hurt by him and his actions. It’s bad enough that he decided to date Echo knowing all the terrible things that she’s done, but the fact that he didn’t even tell you feels much worse. You’ve been on the ground with him for days, and while it’s definitely been stressful and chaotic, you wish that he had tried harder to tell you, warn you. Instead, you had to find out when you saw them kiss. A reunion kiss that was meant for you, not her.

You feel tears rise to your eyes, squeezing your throat, making it hard to breath, and you pull over for a second, unable to see past the emotion. You sit and cry, hard, ignoring the fact that there are at least 10 people in the back of the rover, waiting for you to get them back to Polis. You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel a hand come down on your shoulder, and when you turn to look, you see Indra looking at you, expression regretful, her voice sounding weak as she says, “I know what he means to you, Wanlida, but a warrior does not mourn those she has lost until the war is won.”

You nod your head and wipe your fallen tears away, knowing that she’s right. Your family and your home are in trouble, along with the people in the rover with you. Right now, it’s more important that you get them to Polis. And so, you start the rover back up and continue to Polis, keeping yourself busy to keep your mind off of everything. As soon as you arrive, you help unload the injured and take them into the bunker, before assisting Jackson as he helps doctor those in need. The rest of the group makes it back in a few hours, the return hike much shorter than the initial journey, and one of the Wonkru members from the desert lets you know that Octavia and Clarke are looking for you in the main office. You thank them for passing along the message before you head that way, curious on what this is about.

As soon as you get there, you enter and see Clarke checking on Octavia's worm wound, making sure it’s healing well. Octavia glances at you as you come to stand beside Madi, who is watching intently, and the Wonkru leader doesn’t hesitate in giving you a serious look. “My brother will come to his senses.”

Your gaze drops to your shoes, not wanting to talk about this, not now, and you can feel everyone’s gaze on you as you compose yourself, lift your head, and hum, “Maybe.”

Everyone seems to sense how uncomfortable you are, because the topic quickly changes, and Octavia’s gaze falls on Madi, who is watching Clarke clean the queen’s wounds in awe. Clarke glances at her and smiles before muttering, “Madi's a big fan. She's heard every story about the girl under the floor who saved the human race.”

Octavia turns her gaze towards Madi, nodding at her with respect. “Now what's your story? You survived six years of radiation? What's your secret?”

“Synthetic nightblood, like us.” Clarke starts to bandage Octavia’s wound, the lie rolling off her tongue easily. “We took her to Becca's lab and shared our bone marrow to keep her alive.”

“You're lucky the twins found you.”

Madi nods, opening her mouth to say something, when the door to the office swings open and Cooper steps inside. “Ready to move?”

Clarke finishes up the bandage and answers for Octavia, “She needs another day's rest.”

“She needs to be with her people.”

Octavia seems to agree, because she stands, allowing Cooper to hand her her armor. “I'm done licking my wounds. Let's go remind the others what we promised them.”

As she starts to step towards the door, Octavia turns your way. “My banishment of Echo still stands. I’m going to deliver the news now, I’d like for you to be there.”

You glance at Clarke, who nods, and though you aren't ready to confront this, you think that maybe it’ll be easier with Octavia at your side. So you nod, and Octavia smiles quickly before settling her expression into a more serious one. She motions for you to follow her and you do, taking the journey out of the bunker and back up to the surface, into the streets of Polis. The clouds hang low above the streets, dropping a cool rain onto the people that are gathered below, and you’re thankful for it. Maybe it’ll hide your tears if you cry.

Octavia pulls you to her side, the two of you walking together as equals, while Cooper hangs back slightly. As you move down the street, some people turn away, some stop to whisper, and you realize now how much tension hangs in the air over the people of Wonkru. Octavia senses it too, because she turns to Cooper, voice sounding accusatory, “You said they needed to see me, but they can barely look at me. What aren't you telling me?”

“Word has spread about our defeat in the wasteland. Diyoza's firepower has crippled us. The soil here is dead, I don't care how much it rains, it won't be arable for years. And, as you know, the hydrofarm can barely produce enough-”

Octavia cuts her off, sounding upset, “Stop it. We have faced worse odds than this.”

“Yes, but now we know the warning signs of rebellion. I once betrayed you when you were vulnerable, when Wonkru was living in fear.”

Your brows pull together, curious about the history between the Red Queen and her loyal servant. However, you don't get the chance to ask, because a familiar voice calls out from behind you. “Octavia.”

You and Octavia turn, coming face to face with Echo and Bellamy. You were afraid that the sight of them would upset you, but now, as you stand in front of them, all you feel is anger. Ferocious, white hot anger, pulsing through your blood. If you could, you’d take the knife on your thigh and plunge it into Echo’s heart, letting her feel the hurt that she’s caused you. Echo avoids your eyes, but Bellamy doesn’t, his gaze searching your face for any sign of what you’re feeling. He must sense the anger, because he seems taken aback, not expecting the fire that moves through you. You remember what he said to you before he left, I’ll always be in awe of your anger, and you wonder if he still feels that way now, when so much of it is directed at him.

You watch him shake his head a little, trying to clear his thoughts, before he looks at his sister, “Glad to see you back on your feet. Echo tried to get in to see you, but they wouldn't let-”

“What is she doing here?”

You are surprised by how meek Echo sounds when she responds, reminding you nothing of the bloodthirsty spy you knew six years ago. “I just wanted to thank you for saving my people.”

“They're not your people.” The anger in Octavia’s voice is palpable, and you find yourself thankful that she’s not going to back down from this. “Azgeda is a memory. There is only Wonkru, and there is no place in it for you.”

Bellamy immediately cuts in, his face fallen. “I know you two have history, but Echo is on our side. She proved herself dozens of times on the ring.”

“This isn't the ring.” Octavia turns slightly, raising her voice to be heard by those around you. “Wonkru, I banished this murderer from the bunker six years ago. My judgement still stands!”

“O.”

She turns back to her brother, stepping closer to deliver her last message with a threatening whisper. “She has 24 hours. If she's still here by then, she fights in the arena.”

She turns, holding out her hand to you, and you glance at Bellamy, watching as he shakes his head, disapproving of the situation. The act makes you defiant, and you want him angry, just like he’s made you, so you smile and take Octavia’s hand, allowing her to whisk you away from the couple. Bellamy, never one to give up without a fight, jogs after the two of you, calling out to you both. “Octavia! Octavia, stop. It was six years ago, you just can't cast her out! She won't survive! Natshana, please! Just let me explain!”

Octavia ignores her brother, fully intent on staying true to her word, but you spin around at the mention of your nickname, pulling Octavia to a stop beside you. You can’t believe he has the nerve to use a nickname he gave you when the two of you were still together, and your expression pulls into one of anger and hurt as you snap, “Don’t call me that!”

His expression pulls into one of hurt, and he opens his mouth to say something, but he is cut off by a warning call from a nearby horn. You turn and lock eyes with the Wonkru leader, both of you looking worried, before you hear a sonic boom, the same one you heard when Diyoza’s ship landed the first time. You look up, eyes finding the small ship in the sky, and as it flies closer, everyone starts to panic. There’s a stampede heading in your direction as everyone runs to the bunker and to safety, and Octavia starts to back away until she sees that her brother isn't following. “Bellamy, get in the bunker.”

“Not without Echo.”

He gives you one last look before he turns and runs off, not even giving you a chance to stop him as he leaves in search of his girlfriend. You feel a pang in your heart knowing that it’s her he’s worrying about, and not you. You stand there frozen, watching him leave, and Octavia does the same, in disbelief that he chose the spy over the two of you. Cooper grabs Octavia’s arm, getting her attention, “Blodreina, look!”

You both follow her pointed finger to the sky, watching as giant metal crates fall from the ship, before it turns and flies away, no bomb dropped. The metal crates fall to the ground slowly, aided by parachutes, before they hit the ground and the sides pop open. You watch in surprise as a bunch of apples roll out, and as you step forward to get a closer look, you see it’s stuffed with all kinds of fruits and vegetables from the valley. You jump in surprise when you hear Diyoza’s voice, coming from a speaker attached to the top of the crates. “People of Wonkru, this is Colonel Diyoza offering you a chance for peace. I know you’ve all suffered, I know you're hungry, and so many of you are weary of Octavia's rule, but now you have a choice. Abandon your weapons, leave Wonkru behind, and join us in Shallow Valley. We have plenty of food and shelter for those seeking a better life. When our ship returns tonight, head for the wastelands. Anyone waiting for us outside the ruins will be rescued. But come unarmed. If Octavia attacks our ship, we will retaliate against your city with lethal force. We're watching everything, always.”

Octavia grabs a weapon from one of the men nearby and swings it towards the speaker, knocking the antenna off the top and ending the transmission. But somewhere nearby, one of the other crates finishes the message for all of you to hear. “There is a place in the valley for all of us, so please choose wisely.”

Octavia turns to Cooper, voice low, and eerily calm. “Get everyone into the bunker. Now.”

Cooper does as she’s told and gathers everyone that still lingers outside to send them back into the bunker. Miller, who has just come out of the bunker to see what the commotion is, stops at Octavia’s side, expression blank. “What are your orders, Blodreina?”

“Burn it. Burn it all, until there’s nothing left.”

You look at her in shock, not pleased to see perfectly good food go to waste, but Miller immediately does as she says and gathers the guards, directing all of them to set the food supply on fire. You stand and watch one of them burn until nothing remains but ashes, lost in your thoughts, not realizing that everyone has left you behind without another word. Everyone, that is, except for Bellamy.

You don't notice him at first, too lost in your own head, but gradually you become aware of the hairs on the back of your neck lifting, standing at attention underneath someone’s gaze. You turn around quickly, hand reaching for your knife, but you drop it when you realize it’s him. Your face falls, not pleased to see him, or be near him, reminding you of the first few weeks that you knew him. You see a look of hurt pass his features at your expression, and he walks closer to you, coming to a stop at your side. “I thought you were dead.”

Your jaw clenches with anger, and you harden your heart, refusing to let his broken whisper sway your feelings. Instead, you latch onto your lingering anger, turning and directing it towards him. “I know. But that’s not why I’m upset. It hurts me to see you with Echo, but the worst part is that you didn't tell me, Bellamy. You knew how I felt about you, how much I loved you, and you knew how excited I was to have you back on Earth. And still, not once did you tell me that you moved on with someone else.”

Bellamy’s expression sinks, and he whispers, “Loved?”

“What?”

“You said loved, past tense.”

You tense up, not even realizing you said it, and one check of your emotions lets you know that it isn't true. You love him, of course you do, but it would be so much easier if you didn't. Coping with this would be much easier if you felt nothing towards him, if you hadn't spent the last 6 years dreaming of the life you wanted to build with him as soon as you saw him. But you ignore his hurt, and your own, and let your anger crackle like electricity around you. “Do you love her?”

He freezes, caught off guard by the question, before his expression goes neutral. You can tell he’s trying to hide something, his feelings for Echo probably, and it tells you everything you need to know. He looks like he wants to say something else, but he's cut off by your twin, who stands near the base of the rubble and calls your name. When you look towards her, she motions back towards the bunker. “There’s a meeting we need to crash.”

You nod, letting her know you heard her, before turning back to Bellamy. You decide to leave him with one last painful remark, hoping it hurts him, just like this hurts you. “Guess you found someone else to tell you about the stars.”

You wait just long enough to see his face fall before you turn and walk towards your sister, sorrow flooding through you quickly, cooling the fire within you. You hate hurting Bellamy, even now, but losing your other half is something that would break even the strongest of people. You briefly wonder if you have a second to shed a few tears before the meeting, before Clarke quickly destroys those plans by calling out to your former lover, “You too, Bellamy! You need to be there.”

You glare at your twin, and she gives you a sympathetic look as you reach her, her voice soft when she whispers, “You know I wouldn’t invite him unless I had to. But it’s his sister, and he needs to be there.”

You just nod, not trusting your voice, as the two of you wait for him to catch up before heading back into the bunker and towards the main office. Monty and Harper are already there and waiting when the three of you arrive, clearly all on the same page, while you and Bellamy are in the dark. Clarke pushes inside with no hesitation, unfazed by the angry glares that are turning in your direction.

“This is a private meeting.”

Octavia waves off Miller’s dissent, “It's fine.”

“We all have people in that valley that need our help.”

“If you're talking about your mother, I am not interested in rescuing traitors. I'm trying to prevent more of them.”

Bellamy stares at his sister in disbelief, his voice rising as he lectures her, “Your people are hungry and you're worrying about defectors? We should stop wasting time looking for enemies in Polis, and we should start trying to find a way back into that valley!”

“Last time I checked, Diyoza can see our every move.”

Harper speaks up from her place in the back of the group, motioning towards her boyfriend. “That's where Monty comes in.”

“Laser-comm.” He holds up a radio, showing it to Octavia. “It's dialed right into their mother ship. All I need is a relay tower on the ground that we build out of scrap, and a computer. I should be able to blind the eye from right here.”

“Good plan. Once it's down, we can attack.”

“Miller, set Monty up. Cooper, shoot anyone who tries to defect. We're done here.” She brushes past all of you, heading towards the door. “Time to train.”

Everyone disperses, and you, Clarke, and Bellamy step outside, watching Octavia disappear into the bunker. Bellamy mutters, “That is not my sister.”

You don’t answer, still content on ignoring him, but Clarke doesn't say anything either. You glance her way and see that she is staring off into the distance, and you follow her gaze to see why. Madi is talking with Gaia, both of them smiling. Clarke glances over at you, worried, and you nod. “Go get her. I think I’m gonna stop by for a training session.”

Clarke barely looks your way as she answers, “Let me know if you find out anything.”

You both walk down the ramp together, towards the talking pair, but you immediately continue past them, giving Madi’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze as you move past. She grins at you as you continue by and you smile back at her before following the path that Octavia took into the bunker, leaving Bellamy and any thoughts about him behind without a word. You can tell you’re on the right track, because you hear the sounds of fighting growing louder as you draw closer. Finally, you come upon an open door at the end of a hallway, where Octavia now fights Cooper, easily beating the woman. “I told you not to go easy.”

Cooper steps away, looking apologetic, and you call out, “Got time for one more?”

Octavia looks to where you stand in the doorway, face breaking into a grin. “Cooper, give her your sword.”

You accept the weapon as she hands it to you, brushing past you and out the door, muttering, “Your funeral.”

You step into the room and onto the training room floor, you and Octavia circling each other with predatory grins on your faces. Octavia is the first to make a move, lunging towards you and swinging her sword around, but you lift your sword and block the blow, listening to the sound of metal clanging as it echoes in the room. You reach out and push her hand down and away, spinning your body, bringing your sword with it, and nearly hitting her before she blocks you at the last second. As she does, she looks at you, studying you, before asking, “What do you think about Echo?”

Just the mention of her name sends fire flowing through you, boiling your anger up and over, and you answer her question with an aggressive series of attacks that she barely manages to block. On the last one, as the two of you stand staring each other down, you mutter, “You already know the answer to that.”

“She nearly killed you in Mount Weather.”

You pull back, and lift the shirt on your right side, revealing one of the few scars you received on that fateful trip to the Mountain. You counter her point with, “And she nearly killed you on that cliff.”

You remember the fear and rage you had at the announcement of Octavia’s death, and she must feel the same way about her near death experience, because she answers you with a similarly aggressive response, lunging at you with an onslaught of attacks. You manage to block each one, but on the last one, she uses your focus on the blocking to kick you backwards, knocking you on your back. You feel the air rush out of your lungs in one fell swoop, and you groan as the impact hits the bulletwound on your shoulder, improving day by day, but not able to withstand this kind of trauma. Octavia stands over you, looking down at you, and she mutters, “And now she’s taken Bellamy from you.”

You stare up at her, wondering what angle she’s playing, or if she just wants to hurt you for no reason. But then she extends her hand to you, which you eye warily before taking it. She pulls you to your feet, both of you now standing close, and she whispers, “Her 24 hours is ticking by, but Bellamy seems intent on going with her. What will you do then?”

“I don't know. Bellamy has my heart, but if Echo has his, then I won't stand in their way.”

Her head tips to the side and she tsks, giving you a disapproving look. “That’s not the Invisible Twin that I know. The girl I know fights for what belongs to her.”

“I’d do anything for Bellamy, you know that Octavia. That includes letting him be happy with someone else, no matter what it costs me. I only ever wanted him happy.” As soon as you say it, you know you mean it. Because despite the hurt, the anger, and the pain it will cause you, you will do anything to see Bellamy happy, to see him smile. Even if that means watching him love Echo.

You hear someone clear their throat near the door, and you turn towards them, your eyes falling on Bellamy. You’re not sure how much of the conversation he heard, but it’s clear he caught some of it because he’s watching you with an intense look. Although you just told Octavia you just want to see him happy, that doesn't mean you’re over your hurt just like that. You nod at Octavia, “Thanks for the training.”

She nods back at you, and you head towards the door, extending Cooper’s sword out to Bellamy. You think of Octavia’s words to you, and start to wonder if it was just her way of riling you up so you’d give her a good fight. It’s hard to know for sure, but you decide to warn Bellamy just the same. “She won't hold back. Neither should you.”

Your fingers brush as he takes the sword from you, electricity going up both of your arms. You lock eyes, and he looks like he wants to say something to you, until you cut your eyes at him, warning him not to. He nods, accepting your anger for now, and without another word, you brush past him and out the door, walking away from the love of your life in search of the only family you have left.

You find Madi and Clarke in the tent she set up in the streets of Polis, none of you wanting to spend any more time in the bunker than necessary. After a quick dinner, you mumble something about feeling tired and you curl up in your sleeping bag, intent on crying yourself to sleep after your emotionally taxing day.

You're not asleep for very long when you’re woken up by the soft sounds of a conversation being held in the tent. You open your eyes slowly, your back to the people talking, listening in on the conversation.

“It was hard for a while, really hard, but we survived, thanks to Octavia.”

It takes you a second, but you realize it’s Niylah’s voice, quiet in the confines of the tent. You hear Clarke’s sarcastic reply follow, “You mean, Blodreina?”

“How do you explain the sun to someone who's never seen it?”

Clarke seems to hesitate for a second, and you’re sure the comment on the sun has her gaze swinging over to Madi. You brush your fingers over your own necklace, reassured by the silver moon that hangs around your neck before you hear Clarke ask, “And what about the Flame?”

“What about it? The time of the Commanders is over.”

“Does Gaia still have it?”

“They say you made her into a Natblida. Is that true?”

“Yeah.”

“I can still tell when you're lying.” You tense up at Niylah’s response, knowing that Madi being a true Nightblood, not a created one like you and Clarke, puts her in danger. Niylah may say that the time of the Commanders is over, but you know that not everyone believes that. There are people that would kneel to Madi, without hesitation, and given all you’ve seen from Octavia, that is not a situation you are eager to have her in.

You jump when you hear a clang of metal outside, followed by the sounds of Niylah and Clarke slipping from the tent. You rise from your bed and grab your knife, stepping out of the tent just in time to see a hooded figure standing in front of the door, holding a rag over a blonde person’s mouth. Your stomach drops, thinking it’s Clarke and you immediately hold a knife to their throat, close enough now that you can see the person in the hooded figure’s arms is not Clarke. They freeze and lower Niylah’s unconscious body to the ground. Clarke, who is standing nearby, gets a look at the hooded figure’s face first and whispers, “Gaia? What the hell do you think you're doing?”

“Protecting the true last Natblida, as my order has always done.”

You look at Clarke, silently asking her what she wants you to do, and she nods, letting you know it’s okay for now. You lower the knife but keep it close, and Gaia grabs Niylah’s body and starts to drag her away before whispering, “Come on, you two.”

You and Clarke follow her into an abandoned building, closing the door behind you as you spin towards Gaia and look at her in confusion. “Whose side are you on? What are you, Fleimkepa or Wonkru?”

“Blodreina saved my life, but that doesn't mean I can forget my faith.”

She unrolls a leather satchel and you and Clarke watch on, trying to figure out what she’s doing. She reaches for a bottle of liquid, and Clarke puts the pieces together first, reaching out and putting her hand on Gaia’s arm to stop her. “You are out of your mind if you think I'm gonna let you kill my friend.”

“Niylah is not your friend. You're Wonkru or you're the enemy, that's what she believes. If you want to protect Madi, this is the only way.”

“Madi is not a threat to Octavia, she's a child.”

Gaia turns on her, looking at her in earnest. “Yes, a Nightblood child who appeared two days after we rose from the ashes. That's no coincidence, Clarke. Octavia's not going to see it that way, and neither do I.”

Clarke quickly pulls out her knife and reaches out to grab Gaia, holding the weapon to her throat before either of you realize what she’s doing. “Listen to me, if you think you can force the Flame on Madi-”

Gaia cuts her off, “I would never do that. And I'm not the one you should be afraid of.”

Niylah starts to stir from her place on the table, effectively ending the conversation. Clarke releases Gaia, and nods towards the door. “Go, before she sees you.”

Gaia turns and steps towards the door, and your twin turns to you. “Get back to Madi, start packing our things. When that transport comes, all three of us are going to be on it.”

You nod your head and slip out the door, jogging back to your tent and grabbing each of your packs, stuffing the most important things inside of them. Clarke drops into the tent a second later, silently passing things to you and helping you to grab what the three of you need. She hands you her sketchpad, the one she turned into a book of pictures for Madi, who must have been flipping through it earlier, because it's open to a picture of Bellamy. Your stomach drops and you’re sure your face does too, because Clarke whispers, “We should tell them, just so they won’t worry.”

“Yeah.”

You put the sketchpad in her pack, and she starts to rise, but you put your hand on your arm to stop her. “I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?”

You feel tears well up in your eyes, but you force them down and whisper, “It might be the last time I see him. I want to say goodbye.”

She nods, honoring your wishes, and she pulls you into a hug before you go. “It's going to be okay, la lune. I promise.”

A few of your tears spill down your cheeks, triggered by the comfort your twin gives you, and you pull away, wiping them from your face. “Get Madi ready, I’ll be back soon.”

You turn and head out of the tent, moving through the dark streets of Polis to the second camp area set up just around the corner. You’re thankful that the couple chose to camp out over here, because it means you’re less likely to run into them or see them together. Now, however, you know you’re walking right into the lion’s den, preparing to do something that will just break your heart even further. You don’t know what’s worse: Bellamy going to space without the chance for you to say goodbye, or you leaving to go to Shallow Valley and getting to say goodbye, but knowing that Bellamy will always be just out of reach for you.

When you get to Bellamy and Echo’s tent, you step close to the door, opening your mouth to call out to them, not wanting a repeat of the time you walked in on Bellamy and Raven. But just as you start to announce your presence, you hear Echo’s stressed voice float towards you, through the tent. “Bellamy, I just can’t okay? You may not see it, but everyone else can, me included. You still love her, and she still loves you. I know that you love me, but not the way you love her. And that’s okay, I understand, the heart wants what it wants. But I deserve more than that. I deserve to be loved by someone who can love me fully and completely.”

You freeze in place, goosebumps erupting along your skin as you start to realize that they’re talking about you. Bellamy’s voice sounds distressed when he retorts, “Echo, I do love you fully and completely.”

“Not the way you think you do. Things changed the second Madi saved us from those prisoners and told us the twins were still alive and in trouble.” You feel tears well up in your eyes as you stand silently outside of the tent, waiting with bated breath. “I didn't want to accept it at first, but the past couple of days away from you really opened my eyes. You two belong together. And maybe if she had died in Praimfaya, things could be different for us down here on Earth, but maybe our love was always meant to stay up on the ring. Maybe it wasn't made to last beyond that.”

Your heart breaks at the realization that if what Echo is saying is true, Bellamy still loves you. And here you stand, outside of his tent, preparing to announce your departure to Shallow Valley, leaving him, and the possibility of love, behind. But you know that Madi’s life is at risk here, and Octavia and Wonkru are too unstable to handle the threat of a real Nightblood child, so you know what you have to do. You step back from the tent a little and call out, “Bellamy, Echo, are you guys in here?”

You hear movement from inside the tent, and a second later Bellamy steps out, followed by Echo. They stand a few feet apart, looking uncomfortable, and you notice the pack on her back. “Are you defecting?”

“Not exactly.” You look at her in confusion, but she nods her head towards Bellamy. “He can explain, I have people I need to find.”

You nod, and the former couple stands and looks at each other awkwardly before exchanging a quick hug. They avoid eye contact the entire time and pull away quickly before Echo nods at you in goodbye and disappears into the crowd. You hear the rumble of the approaching transport ship, and you and Bellamy both look towards the sky, watching as it draws closer. You turn to Bellamy, about to begin your goodbyes when you hear Clarke call your name. You turn in her direction, watching as she tells Madi to stay put before she jogs over to the two of you. The first thing she takes note of is Echo’s absence, and she looks at Bellamy. “Where’s Echo? Is she defecting?”

“Not exactly.” He nods for both of you to follow him as he starts to step away. “Come on, I'll explain in the bunker.”

You shake your head, already denying his request. “Bellamy, we're leaving too.”

“What?”

A look of hurt passes over his face, and you resist the urge to reach out to him, to comfort him, kiss him, knowing that right now, things aren’t right. Instead you mutter, “It's not safe for us here.”

“No, you don't understand. Echo's defecting so we can take down the eye, and once it's down-”

Clarke cuts him off, disinterested in hearing their plan. “No, you don't understand. Diyoza is the least of our concerns. Your sister is dangerous, and Madi's…”

She turns to glance back in Madi’s direction, about to expand on the danger she’s in, but when she looks that way, her eyes widen in alarm. You turn around, finding that the place Madi was standing in is now empty, the young Nightblood now missing. Clarke grabs your hand and starts to pull you away, “We have to find her.”

You glance back at Bellamy and find that he is already following you, eyes scanning the area around him for any sign of Madi. You feel a pang in your heart, melting at the fact that he’s searching for Madi even though he doesn't have to, even though he barely knows her. But he’s searching because he knows that she’s important to you and Clarke, and you again have to resist the urge to sweep him up in your arms.

Clarke pulls you down the street, all three of you looking for Madi and calling out to her. “Madi!”

“Madi, where are you?”

Suddenly, the transport flies right overhead, lowering to the ground nearby, and you turn to Clarke in alarm. “We're out of time.”

The three of you stand there, looking at each other, trying to think on what to do, when a shot rings out nearby. All of your expressions morph into confusion as you hear another shot and a distant cry of pain, before Clarke whispers in horror, “They're shooting at the defectors.”

The three of you take off again, following the steady sound of the gunshots that ring out every few seconds, until finally you see the barrel of a gun sticking out a window, bullets firing from it. You get Clarke and Bellamy’s attention and point up to it, “There!”

“On me.” You and Clarke nod and he pulls out his pistol. Clarke does the same, pushing you behind her so she can protect you. You silently curse yourself for leaving your gun in your pack, never very good at carrying it around with you. Ultimately, it doesn't matter, because Bellamy leads your trio up the stairs and kicks open the door, him and Clarke pointing their weapons at Cooper, who stands looking at you without an ounce of shame. “Cooper, what the hell is wrong with you? Octavia said to let them go.”

Her head cocks to the side, as if she doesn't understand his question. “Who do you think gave me the order?”

“Where is she?”

“In her office, waiting to hear that it’s done.”

As soon as she says it, Cooper pushes past all of you, exiting the room with a blank stare on her face. You, Bellamy, and Clarke all turn and run from the building, heading straight to the bunker to talk to Octavia. But as soon as you climb through the door and down the stairs, Clarke gets a glimpse of a familiar looking figure standing in the atrium with the Red Queen. She immediately takes off running towards her, yelling, “Madi? Madi!”

All three of you try to push through the door and run down to them, but you’re held back by a set of guards near the door. Clarke looks down at the pair, in complete distress, and yells, “Octavia, get away from her!”

Madi looks your way, trying to comfort her. “Clarke, it's okay, I came to her.” Madi turns back to Octavia, who lifts the knife in her hand and slices open her palm. As she reaches out for Madi, she commands, “Let them pass.”

Clarke immediately takes off running towards them, and you and Bellamy jog after her, hearing Octavia’s voice float up to you as you get closer. “Nau oso tai so op kom won jus. Yo laik Wonkru.”

Now we bind ourselves in one blood. You are Wonkru. As soon as you reach the atrium where they both stand, you see that Madi and Octavia’s hands are clasped together, blood dripping from their joined palms. Clarke snaps, “What the hell are you doing?”

“It's okay. She knows everything.”

You and Clarke exchange a worried look before looking at Octavia, who returns her knife to her belt and nods at the two of you. “I understand why you lied, you were just trying to protect her. But Madi no longer needs your protection, she has mine.”

She turns her gaze away from you and back to Madi, reaching her bloody hand up to grip Madi’s chin and hold her gaze with her own. “I know what it's like to be the girl under the floor. You don't have to be afraid anymore, your training begins tomorrow.”

And then she drops her hand, leaving a red and black blood streak behind on Madi’s cheek, smiling at you and Clarke before she turns and leaves the atrium, heading up to the office. Bellamy shifts from his place behind you before following her, and you can hear the muffled sounds of them arguing before they even get the door closed. You ignore it for now, turning to look at Madi and Clarke, who looks between you both with worry. “I know you're both mad, but I told her I didn't want to be Commander. I did it to keep you safe, because Diyoza would kill you both if we went back to the valley.”

Clarke pulls bandages from her pocket for Madi’s hand, and gives her a serious look. “It’s our job to keep you safe. And you just made it a whole lot harder.”

Madi looks upset, and Clarke steps away, trying to calm herself down. You drop to your knees in front of the young Nightblood and wipe the blood from her face as she whispers, “I was just trying to help, ani.”

You smile at her, nodding, trying to show that you aren't upset with her. “I know, little sun. Everything is going to be okay.”

You hear a door slam behind you as soon as the words leave your mouth, and you turn and find Bellamy standing outside of the office, fuming. He meets your gaze, looking upset, and you realize now that you aren’t sure you believe your words to Madi. A ship full of prisoners has taken over your home, the love of your life just got dumped by someone else, and the youngest member of your family is now in trouble because of the color of her blood. You take a deep breath and send a silent prayer to the Universe asking for a lucky break, just this once.

You hope against hope that it listens.

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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bright-eyes-strawberry-lies · 4 years

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Every Time Annabeth is Mean to Percy in the Riordanverse

This is something that I’ve been considering writing for a while but didn’t particularly want to put the work into until I was rereading The Titan’s Curse and came across a very specific line that went “She punched me in the gut.” I was so consumed with rage that I immediately began to reread the whole series and marked down every single instance that Annabeth was a dick to Percy.

One thing to note is that I’ve marked down every instance of Annabeth calling Percy “seaweed brain” as being mean. Friendly reminder that her nickname for Percy means “stupid” and has always meant stupid and will always mean stupid and that just because he’s used to it by now, doesn’t make it okay.

On that note, this also turned into me writing down every time someone other than Annabeth insults Percy’s intelligence just because I was curious.

Without further ado, I present to you, The Lightning Thief.

(Alternating colors for easier reading)

TLT (pg 57) - [interrogation of Percy] The girl with curly blond hair hovered over me, smirking as she scraped drips off my chin with the spoon. [ … ] Somebody knocked on the door, and the girl quickly filled my mouth with pudding.

TLT (pg 64) - [describing Annabeth’s eyes] but intimidating, too, as if she were analyzing the best way to take me down in a fight.

TLT (pg 64) - “You drool when you sleep.”

TLT (pg 83) - When we reached her, she looked me over critically, like she was still thinking about how much I drooled.

TLT (pg 85) - She saw me looking, and her expression hardened again.

TLT (pg 85-86) - She grabbed my wrist and dragged me outside. I could hear the kids of cabin eleven laughing behind me. When we were a few feet away, Annabeth said, “Jackson, you have to do better than that.” [ … ] She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, “I can’t believe I thought you were the one.”

TLT (pg 86) - [Percy is annoyed] “Don’t talk like that!” Annabeth told me. “You know how many kids at this camp wish they’d had your chance?”

TLT (pg 89) - [Clarisse is hazing Percy] Annabeth looked pained, but she did stay out of it.

TLT (pg 90) - [Clarisse is hazing Percy] Annabeth stood in the corner, watching through her fingers.

TLT (pg 92) - Annabeth stared at me. I couldn’t tell whether she was just grossed out or angry at me for dousing her.

TLT (pg 93) - “I’ve got training to do,” Annabeth said flatly. “Dinner’s at seven-thirty. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall.” [Percy apologizes] “Whatever.”

TLT (pg 123) - [Annabeth sets Percy up to be bait for Clarisse, Percy confronts her] Annabeth shrugged. “I told you. Athena always, always has a plan.”

TLT (pg 128) - Annabeth still taught me Greek in the mornings, but she seemed distracted. Every time I said something, she scowled at me, as if I’d just poked her between the eyes.

TLT (pg 147) - [Annabeth has volunteered for the quest] “I’ve been waiting a long time for a quest, seaweed brain,” she said. “Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you’re going to save the world, I’m the best person to keep you from messing up.”

TLT (pg 157) - [Percy is being optimistic] She gave me an irritated look. “It’s bad luck to talk that way, seaweed brain.” [Percy asks why Annabeth hates him] “I don’t hate you. [Percy disagrees] “Look...we’re just not supposed to get along, okay? Our parents are rivals.”

TLT (pg 169) - She was silent for a few more steps. “It’s just that if you died...aside from the fact that it would really suck for you, it would mean the quest was over. This may be my only chance to see the real world.”

TLT (pg 173) - [Percy lies to Medusa] “Your head is full of kelp.”

TLT (pg 185) - [Percy doesn’t know the myths] Annabeth flashed me an irritated look. [explanation of the myth] Annabeth straightened. In a bad imitation of my voice she said: “It’s just a photo, Annabeth. What’s the harm?”

TLT (pg 194) - [Annabeth wakes Percy after a nightmare] “Well,” Annabeth said, “the zombie lives.”

TLT (pg 217) - [After Percy jumps off the Gateway Arch] Annabeth stood beside him, trying to look angry, but even she seemed relieved to see me. “We can’t leave you alone for five minutes! What happened?”

TLT (pg 234) - [Percy asking Annabeth to go with him to get Ares’ shield] “Are you kidding?” She looked at me as if I’d just dropped from the moon. [ … ] “Me, go with you to the...the ‘Thrill Ride of Love’? How embarrassing is that? What if somebody saw me?”

TLT (pg 234) - [Percy picks up Aphrodite’s scarf] Annabeth ripped it out of my hand and stuffed it in her pocket. “Oh no you don’t. Stay away from that love magic.” [ … ] “Just get the shield, seaweed brain.”

TLT (pg 239) - [Percy has a plan] “Are you crazy?”

TLT (pg 244) - [Percy backtalking Ares] Annabeth said, “That was not smart, Percy.”

TLT (pg 251) - [Discussing what side they’ll pick] “Because you’re my friend, seaweed brain. Anymore stupid questions?”

TLT (pg 257) - [Grover can only bless wild animals] “So it would only work on Percy,” Annabeth reasoned.

TLT (pg 263) - [Percy trying to get Annabeth’s attention at the Lotus Hotel] She looked up, annoyed. “What?” [ … ] “Hey!” She screamed and hit me, but nobody else even bothered looking at us.

TLT (pg 282) - [Percy saves Grover and Annabeth from Crusty] “Be faster next time.”

TLT (pg 370) - [Percy wakes up after almost dying] “You idiot,” Annabeth said.

TLT (pg 374) - She pursed her lips. “You won’t try anything stupid during the school year, will you? At least...not without sending me an Iris-Message?”

TLT (pg 374) “Take care, seaweed brain.”

TLT total number of times Percy is called stupid: 10

TLT number of times Annabeth calls Percy stupid: 7

TLT number of times others call Percy stupid: Gabe (1). Grover (1). Thalia (1).

Every day, I’ll reblog this post with the next book so keep an eye out for that.

#annabeth chase #percy jackson #percy jackson series #riordanverse #text post #long post

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nobody-knose--archive · 4 years

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i’ve been aching to commentate spirit phone’s commentary for ages. glad i finally got around to it, this was an ejoyable experience. liveblog below the cut

-i'm like half certain i've heard this commentary before. maybe not the whole way through & it was probably actual years ago

-nice hearing stuff like this. in-depth personal view of the album-making process. makes it seem like more of a real thing i could do myself someday

-neil cicierega real person momence

-i could probably go real in depth about neil cicierega/tally hall parallels specifically concerning like. the arc of their musical careers. but i won't, here

-wild how i legitimately don't care much about micheal jackson

-didnt we get a bunch of spirit phone stems from the needlejuice release/his patreon? we could probably hear the funny track he speaks of here in that

-i love hearing musical artists, especially neil cicierega, talking about the meanings of their songs. like, not only has this song been claimed to hell & back by the tumblr gays, but with later ones i just can't see where he gets these ideas from. also, claiming there's any one meaning or plot to a song just seems silly to me

-shoutout to neil reusing a midi from like, 1998, that he made at 12 years old, whose entire melody was reused for the main verses of everybody loves raymond. loved finding that out on my own 2 years ago. now it's common trivia in this fandom. not bad times

-it'd be neat if neil did individual trans tracks here like he did with view monstel, those things are half of why i consider it my favorite album

-it's a lot easier to ignore the creator's intended meaning behind a song when he can't even remember it. thanks neil

-seesaw effect

-and there's my joke all but 1 of my followers wont get. moving on

-what kinds of movie theater lobbies has neil been to where there are arcade machines. i mean im not one to talk but that does sound rather strange

-why do songs' titles even need to be taken from the lyrics. ive never seen that as any sort of requisite. it's like titling any form of prose you can just give it whatever name ya like

-"this part sounds pretty cool right"

-is neil's vocal range only mildly better than mine? with training i could change that

-oh i haven't processed any of the last 25 seconds hold on

-god. a shit ton of vocal modification in this song. it's like neil returned to his roots but with quality this time

-i, as an ace/aro, have never related more to an allohet guy in my life. what is the point of eyes!

-professional humming/whistling takes skill. it's different from the recreational or casual stuff. i'd know

-there's a name for the way sound (especially music) gets distorted when moving past you and i can't remember it but it's probably what neil's referring to here in the way he recorded the intro

(- update: it's the doppler effect no need to tell me cas already did)

-as someone who hasnt seen the rugrats or take me there by blackstreet i'll just say it sounded like a bouncy music box melody. nice to hear a song that messes with the typical scales though. lydian & diatonic.

-that's a rather specific thing to be glad about, but given what he talked about in his last full audio commentary about the jew harp i suppose i'm not surprised

-i know that tmbg song now. listened to it & saw the music video too. yep they're different alright

-where the hell does neil get all these instrumence from anyway

-huh. hadnt heard this part of the commentary before making my oc concerning this song but i like to hear neil's approval concerning part of my interpretation

-i love how ive heard a billion different tellings of this mellified man story from lem dem fans talking about this song and neil's is by far the wildest

-good god that does only make it worse neil

-i love making liveblogs of lemon demon albums. with the fullerenes or tally hall i cant name a specific dude to take out my woes on generally but with lemon demon i can just say neil all the time. i like being on a casual first name basis with this dude ive never interacted with once ever

-is sweet bod the one other than cabinet man with a demo in the bonus tracks? i forget

-holy shit the boston molasses disaster someone call up soapy if it doesnt already know, it'd love this

-two thousand nine. god i miss the fiddle solo. the ver with it is truly the best one

-he pronounces it jeff? i've always read it as gef with a hard g. that's what i get for knowing words that are never spoken aloud

-that's a fun meta interpretation of this ghost story that's over a century old. i like that

-i've noticed neil generally does the same synths across a whole album. it's especially more clear in the earlier ones, and does mean i occasionally mix up songs between clown circus & live from the haunted candle shop

-ah! ancient aliens! my least favorite track on this album. i cant even claim to have the least interest in a popular one i've just generally not liked this one much from the beginning. so im curious to see what neil's got to say, i think ive been in ~new commentary zone for a while now

-anyway. newest update on the loolin not realizing a song's funky time signature front: i think this one's in 6/4. or at least switches a lot between time signatures. granted i dont listen to it very often for the reasons stated above

-see the way neil describes it. eldritch horror upon being visited by the unknown at a time when humanity'd hadn't even yet had a chance to imagine such a thing occurring. should be right up my alley. but the sound itself & many of the lyrics simply turn me away.

-must i specify i don't dislike it? spirit phone is neil's best album it not being my favorite doesn't mean i think it's bad yadda yadda nobody should be surprised by this it's not like anyone in these fandoms reads my liveblogs <3

-granted i think this is. the first bit of spirit phone content i've made on my blog ever. so who knows things can change <3

-the transitions in spirit phone are much less view-monster transition tracks & more extended outros. view-monster's were a bit more intro than outro sure but they also seemed directed upon making a 2-way rather than 1-way bridge between tracks. or something like that

-.............soft fuzzy man is an incredible nickname for a cat. i'd steal that if i werent afraid of introducing my relatives to lemon demon

-jirls

-an underlying metaphor is good enough. the literal side of the lyrics are fun. nothing but agreement here neil my good man

-the transition into as your father i expressly forbid it from soft fuzzy man is the best one in this album

-buddy you ask if a musical idea has been used before odds are the answer is yes in this day & age the question is has it been used in the way you're using it. like sure this soul jazz record from the 60s that was sold out in kansas stores for a week used this bassline that youve found yourself copying. but seeing as youre using it in some angsty garage rock ballad type tune does anybody actually care

-doesn't everybody like to say things in an unhinged manner from time to time

-imagine having a guitar dad, i say, with my dad being a folk accordion/fiddle dad, which is infinitely worse in every way

-i think he was in an actual folk band at some point. idk the 90s were weird

-iron my life?

-m-more intimate? there are a lot of ways i'd describe this song but intimate isn't one of them. granted as your father is negatively intimate so from there i guess you've got nowhere to go but up

-...still glad to see his interpretation kinda supports my oc at least

-the way he says characters in songs shouldn't worry about death really strongly makes me think this is some sort of. thematic continuation of stuck from dinosaurchestra, even if there's no real death in there. interesting. would also mean that the dad from these past 2 songs is named carlos betty (no last name)

-i literally never assumed this was a flute solo. piccolo at best. it's pretty clearly a recorder

-my mom plays the recorder. i wonder if she can play recorder better than neil cicierega

-we can throw a party in honor of the crushing weight of responsibility! i simply won't be the one throwing it because i have enough on my plate already <3

-what the hell does "a sense of intent" mean

-i've never heard rush before however i disagree with neil's understanding of 6/4. 6/4 is meant to have emphasis (onbeat or another term i can't remember) on the 1st & 4th beat of every measure, which is greatly different from a measure of 4/4 then a measure of 2/4. it's why his 5/4 always sounds weird, because while it's recognizable in sequences of 10/4, it's more 2 measures of 4/4 with one of 2/4 tacked on the end. that's also how it's different from 3/4. i don't know much music theory but what i do understand i will fight to the death about

-"canonized" that's. a very interesting term to use when referring to a former president

-from now on i will interpret every love song directed at some unseen "you" to be inviting me to marry them for tax purposes. thanks neil for being an aromantic icon

-ah hell yes hell yes man-made object is my favorite goddam song on this album

-short & sweet & good damn vibes. neil's thoughts on it all are only making it better

-wild how he uses very few vocal effects for a song that he clearly is straining his vocal range for. go off neil

-the qualifier of man-made is a wonderful thing. oldest or biggest thing? oldest or biggest man-made thing? what a incredibly important specification. a world of possibilities lie between the two. oh i love it

-just gets me thinking yknow! what we consider weird/impressive in another species, in our own species- what kind of equivalent to that would there be from an outsider looking in? are there alien versions of the significances we place upon things, that we could never imagine? the limits of the human imagination mean we could never conceive of something else in the world that isn't, in some way great or small, just like us- and are we wrong for thinking that? such a juicy topic i wish there were a name for it because it's kinda hard to explain concisely

-spiral of ants. my second favorite song from this album, in fact. a good one to experience

-the vocals are just another instrument. they really truly are. i wasn't going into this commentary expecting to feel solidarity for neil cicierega in this chili's tonight on more than one occasion but here i am.

-like, his whole stance on interpreting songs is something i agree with almost entirely. you can take it at face value, you can dig to their very depths, you can listen to songs without caring what the lyrics mean whatsoever, and those are all fun. & yeah while any of these people can be annoying as one of the types who enjoys gliding on the surface more than anything i find those who dedicate themselves to figuring out the whole meaning of a song over anything else to be both slightly scary & slightly annoying <3 keep up the good work

-i want to make songs for my siblings the way neil makes songs for his sibling(s)

-spinch

-neil really shouldn't be allowed to be this funny like this whole album youre thinking golly! he's just a normal man this neil cicierega! and then he starts listing the cat hacks jokes & you remember he's had ridiculously consistent viral success with all his humorous endeavors and holy shit it's neil cicierega in action talking about his music. god bless you neil

-you're welcome, no problem, my pleasure. good eveternoon, radio audience!

#lemon demon #spirit phone #pretty sure this is my first bit of spirit phone content on my blog. hi greater lem dem fandom nice to see y'all. go listen to deporitaz #loolin liveblogs #i enjoyed this less for the content the commentary contained & more for the way i handled it. more pleasant than some times ive had #tis i #i havent listened to spirit phone in general in ages. i know why. so this was nice #to the world and back again

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swanlake1998 · 4 years

Text

Article: Julie Felix: the brilliant Black ballerina who was forced to leave Britain

Date: March 3, 2021

By: Steve Rose

(CW: racism, anti black racism, police brutality, violence, murder mention)

She was told there was no room for a ‘brown swan’ in the London Festival Ballet, so she went to the US. There she found enormous success, dancing for everyone from Michael Jackson to Prince

The turning point in Julie Felix’s career came in 1975. A student at Rambert ballet school in London, she was selected to dance in Rudolf Nureyev’s production of Sleeping Beauty with the London Festival Ballet (now the English National Ballet). Nureyev was the god of British ballet – and he lived up to his reputation on the first day of rehearsal, Felix recalls. “He was late, but everybody said he was always late. All of a sudden, the doors flew open and in he came. He was well renowned for these big boots he used to wear, and a big fur coat. He took the coat off like a matador and threw it so it slid across the dance studio floor. Everybody jumped up and stood to attention. He was there for probably about half an hour.” At the time, 17-year-old Felix was awestruck. In hindsight, half a century later, she is less impressed: “Talk about unprofessional.”

In the fairytale version of Felix’s life, having acquitted herself on stage with Nureyev, she would have joined the London Festival Ballet and become the first Black British dancer to begin her ascent through the ranks of a British ballet company. Instead, she was told she was a “lovely dancer”, but was not going to be given a contract, “because of the colour of my skin. I would mess up the line of the corps de ballet, because you can’t have a whole row of white swans and then there’s a brown one at the end.”

Felix was stunned: “It hit me like a thunderbolt.” Her mother was white British and her father African-Caribbean, from Saint Lucia. She had never thought of the refined world of ballet as being what we might now describe as institutionally racist. “It sounds ridiculous, but because I didn’t experience any racial issues or difficulties before that, I didn’t think there was anything wrong with the colour of my skin. I thought that I was talented and that would be enough.”

Having grown up in Ealing, west London, in the 60s, Felix certainly knew about racial difference. She rarely saw any faces that were not white in the neighbourhood or at school, she says. After her parents had met on a bench in Hyde Park, her mother’s family disapproved. “They said: ‘If you marry that man, we’re going to disown you.’ And my mum just said: ‘Well, fair enough, I still want to marry him.’”

Her father, who worked as a foreman at the Hoover factory, was quite the charmer, says Felix. “He was the proudest man. He would paint the front door a different colour every year. He was always up the ladder washing his windows. He would grow fruits and vegetables in the back garden. But I would say my dad had a big chip on his shoulder.”

She describes how he would dress like a dandy, in 40s suits and spats, even if he was just going to do the shopping. “He would always berate the grocers and say: ‘You’re picking the bruised fruit and vegetables because I’m Black. You think I can’t see this?’” She laughs. “Why would you move somewhere if you’re going to spend your life being concerned about the way other people look at you and your colour?”

There was an incident when she was eight or nine, when her father returned from work very late, his shirt ripped and covered in blood. A colleague had attacked him outside the factory gates with a meat cleaver on a chain. “He didn’t like, one, the way my dad spoke to him and, two, because my dad was Black,” she says.

Culturally, the Felix household was “100% British”, she says. She had no connection to her Saint Lucian family, although she would see her British grandparents in Essex regularly (relations had thawed when Felix’s elder sister and she were born). Musically, her father liked American crooners such as Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole; her mother preferred classical music and had once aspired to be an opera singer. “So, when it came to my wanting to dance, there was a local ballet school around the corner in Ealing that I would go to, and Mum said: ‘Well, as long as you keep working hard and you’re enjoying it, I will fund it for you.’ She wasn’t a pushy, stereotypical ballet mother, but she knew that I loved it. And because she’d been stopped doing what she wanted to do, she was there 100% for me.” When she passed the audition for the Rambert, her parents could not afford the fees; Felix won a grant from the Inner London Education Authority, which paid 75%.

Felix says no one is “born to dance”, but, as a student, her passion for ballet was boundless. “I can remember the feeling of waking up in the morning, earlier than I needed to, getting on the underground and going into Notting Hill Gate, where the school was. I was the first one in the door. The cleaner was still there.

“I could not get enough of it. My friend and me would stretch and practise our fouettés in the lunch break. We’d be the last ones out of the building. Get back on the train, go home. My feet would be bleeding. I’d have blisters all over my toes. And I didn’t care. I just knew this was what was required. I soaked my feet in salt water, dabbed surgical spirit on them to get the skin to heal and get them dried out so that I could get up the next morning and get on that train again.”

After all her dedication, being rejected for her colour was devastating. “It didn’t last long, mind you,” she says. “Part of my personality is: sink or swim. And I thought: ‘I am not going to sink here.’ So I just flipped it around and just said: ‘Watch me. I’m going to show you I can do it.’”

She didn’t have to wait too long. The previous summer, the Dance Theatre of Harlem (DTH) had come to perform in London. This was a pioneering Black ballet company founded in 1969 by Arthur Mitchell, the first top-flight Black dancer in US ballet. While they were in town, Felix went along, auditioned for Mitchell and was immediately offered a contract. She declined. When her teacher at Rambert found out, “she absolutely hit the roof”, Felix recalls. “She said: ‘You can’t pick and choose. You’ve been offered a job!’” Fortunately, the DTH returned to London a few months after her Nureyev experience. Felix auditioned and was offered a job a second time. She did not turn it down.

This time, Felix’s skin colour was to her advantage, although working with an all-Black company in the US was a curious reversal: “I’d gone from all of my ballet training, and growing up not really being aware of anything to do with Black people, to going to New York and there’s no white people.” Before relocating to New York, Felix had never had a passport, left the UK or flown in an aeroplane.

“Within two weeks of being there, Arthur Mitchell said to me: ‘We’ve got to knock the British out of you.’ And I took umbrage, because I’m really proud of being British,” Felix says. In retrospect, she knows what he meant: “It was the wishy-washy way I approached my technique and my ballet training. But it wasn’t just about that; it was everything that Arthur Mitchell taught and portrayed and wanted us to portray within our work. He wanted to show that Black people really can do this.”

DTH’s sense of purpose aligned with Felix’s own. She stayed with the company for 10 years, earning her place as a soloist and touring the US and beyond (including a satisfying return to the Royal Opera House). Life in the US put British racism into perspective, says Felix. In her first week in New York, she witnessed a young Black man being shot dead in the street by two white police officers for shoplifting. A touring performance in Mississippi in 1978 had to be cancelled because the Ku Klux Klan staged a protest outside the theatre, in white hoods, burning cross and all. “No words can describe that feeling,” she says.

There were more good times than bad, though. Felix shared the stage with, and danced for, luminaries from Ronald Reagan to her hero, Luciano Pavarotti. She danced with Lionel Richie to All Night Long at the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics closing ceremony; visitors to her shows included Michael Jackson and Prince. Jackson wanted to cast the dancers in his ill-fated Peter Pan movie, she says. He came to a matinee in Pasadena, California, supposedly incognito, but in full Jackson regalia: black sunglasses, Jheri curl and military-style outfit, with a complement of bodyguards. “I was annoyed, because I was there to deliver the performance, but you had all these girls screaming in the audience,” says Felix. “Anyway, after it finished, he came backstage and said to us, very, very quietly: ‘I really enjoyed your performance. I just think you’re fantastic.’ What a humble man.”

A year later, Prince came to a show, by coincidence at the same theatre. He was similarly “incognito”, in a sequined, hooded purple cape. He never took the hood down. “At the end of the performance, he got back in his limo and left and didn’t say thank you, hello, anything. Really quite rude.”

By 1986, aged 30, Felix was beginning to feel the physical toll of ballet life. She also missed home. She returned to the UK and became a teacher and remedial coach for Sadler’s Wells Royal Ballet, first in London, then in Birmingham, where the company relocated when it became Birmingham Royal Ballet, in 1990. She married and had three daughters (none of whom followed in their mother’s footsteps).

She then became head of dance at a local school. Now it was her turn to “knock the British out” of her students. “They don’t seem to know how to really push themselves,” she says. “Ballet is really painful. If you don’t feel that, then you’re not doing it properly.” Ballet has also always required a highly specific form of physicality, Felix points out. “It needs very arched feet, it requires good natural rotation of your hip sockets, a slender body, long, lithe muscles, long neck, small head.” Regardless of talent or musicality, she says, dancers who do not conform to this body type will struggle. Perhaps it is this inherent discrimination that has made other forms of prejudice easier to disguise.

British ballet has made some progress since the 70s, but it could do more. Birmingham Royal Ballet, for example, had a successful workshop programme with local schools, whose pupils were often from Black, Asian or minority ethnic backgrounds, but such programmes seem to have “fizzled out” as a result of local authority budget cuts, Felix says. On the other hand, there are institutions such as Ballet Black, which advocates for diversity in professional ballet. At the time of its founding in 2001, there were still no women of colour performing in any British company. The Royal Ballet recruited its first Black, British-born male dancer, Solomon Golding, only in 2013.

Felix is not convinced British ballet has turned the corner: “I still believe that we’ve got ballet companies who will take a few people of colour just to be politically correct.” However, she was heartened by the appointment of the Cuban-British dancer Carlos Acosta as director of Birmingham Royal Ballet in 2020, although the pandemic has so far curtailed its activities. While all British arts are vulnerable at the moment, ballet – with its high demands for time, labour, space and personnel – is especially so. Now based in Cornwall, Felix has made do teaching over Zoom for the past year. She is not complaining: “It really is a lovely place to be locked down.”

Felix’s skin colour began as a factor that counted against her, but it became an animating force in her career and led to a wealth of experiences and successes she might otherwise not have had. With that satisfaction, the anger she feels for her 17-year-old self being told her brownness would “mess up the line” has mellowed a little. “Their choice of not accepting me enabled me to find something within myself that I probably would never have known was there,” she says. “And then to open up this whole world for me. So I can say that hatred was turned to gratitude.”

#article #julie felix #ballet #anti black racism #racism #murder mention #police brutality mention #antiblackness tw #violence tw

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pretend-writer · 4 years

Text

Down Below (Chapter 68)

Summary: After being sent down on Earth with the other prisoners from the Ark, Y/N Reyes faces series of events and learns about survival. With new things happening around her, she is now starting a new chapter in her life.

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader, John Murphy x reader, Raven Reyes x sister!reader

Word Count: 2.8k words

Warning: swearing, mention of sex, critical injury

✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤

Raven's head rose up as she saw me leave Marcus' room. She read my facial expression, making sure that I handled everything well in there with him.

'Everything okay?' My sister asked as she walked towards me.

'I'm okay.' I forced a smile, thinking about the critical condition he was in and also what Jackson mentioned earlier. There was a slight chance he was going to make it after surgery.

'Oh, don't act like you care all of the sudden.' Abby said, arms crossed while she leaned by the wall.

'Abby, shut up.' Raven defended me, 'It's easy for you to blackmail kids and electrocuting them with neck collars. Why are you actin-'

I quickly turned to Abby, 'Excuse me? Neck collars?'

'Yeah, tell her Abby. Tell my sister how you not only blackmailed her but also me into making that stupid machine for your next fix.'

'Raven, I'm sorry!' Abby cried, guilt flushed across her face as she saw how upset we both were. 'I didn't mean for any of it to happen!'

Balling my fist, I tried to keep my anger in. It was one thing to mess with me but to manipulate and hurt my sister was way out of line. 'You laid your hands on my sister again?'

Her eyes widen, recalling the time where she slapped Raven when Clarke ran away from camp to save our friends from Mount Weather. 'It was wrong and I'm sorry. I feel guilty about what I did to Raven.'

'What you did to me was wrong but why don't you apologize to Y/N too?' Raven took a step towards Abby, 'You got everyone fooled, even Kane but you can't fool me. How dare you force her to take innocent lives?'

'You weren't down there, you wouldn't understand.' Abby claimed.

'I understand that you used her to kill people for no reason. You didn't have to force anyone to eat but you chose to threaten them. Even manipulating Kane to go against Y/N.' Raven's eyes start to water, 'Who even are you?'

'A coward. She's a coward that can't do shit for herself, uses and abuse children for anything to go her way.' My eyes start to water as I remembered the pain. 'You made Marcus hate me, thinking I was this disgusting human being. You abused my sister for your stupid pills!'

Abby's knees weakened, falling to the ground as she started to ball her eyes out. Watching her feel guilty made me feel nothing, it was hard for me to stand here when the urge to punch her kept crawling under my skin.

'Don't act like you feel ashamed about any of this.' I chuckled, I could tell I was going crazy the way my laughter came out of nowhere. 'You have no idea what pain I've been through, what Octavia went through. And for me to find out you used my sister too?'

'Y/N...' Raven tugged on my arm, watching me as I pace back and forth in front of Abby.

'What?!' I yelled, 'She ruined my whole life! She made my last six years a living hell!'

Raven nodded, tilting her head as she signaled me to go walk with her. I swallowed the large lump in my throat, fighting all the anger I had in me.

I kicked the wall before I walked off. Me pretending that it was Abby didn't work at all, it startled her a bit as she jumped up. Rolling my eyes, I walked away from her.

Raven followed me down the hall, grabbing my hand as she smiled at me. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine, Raven.' She wiped the tears off my face. 'I'm sorry she did all that stuff to you.'

'No one knows because she did it behind closed doors.' Raven shook her head, 'Just like what she did to you.'

She was right; Abby did take advantage of me knowing that I was vulnerable to do something about our situation. She even made me feel as though that it was the right choice, that forcing people to eat was a necessity to save Wonkru.

Not a day goes by where I constantly blame myself about everything that happened down in the bunker. I hate myself for going too far, putting myself in a dark path where I felt like I've belonged.

'I know you blame yourself for what happened and I may not have been there but I know you, Y/N.' Raven hugged me, 'You do everything for others. Just like how you always prioritized me after our stupid parents left. You've always made me feel like the best sister anyone can have.'

'That's because you are, Raven.' I hugged her back tightly, 'I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you. I hate everything that happened especially because I couldn't do anything about it. I'm so angry.'

'Yeah, I saw your face. I had to pull you out before you beat her up.' Raven chuckled, leaving our hug as she cupped my cheeks.

'I wish I can stay up here with you. We're always apart from each other since I've been locked up in the Skybox.' I sighed.

She smiled. 'Once we find out what this moon has to offer us, we can be together like we used to.'

'Moon? It's not a planet?'

'Nope! And I can't wait to do more research, all of this is so fascinating.'

I laughed, enjoying seeing my sister smile and enjoying what she loved to do best; researching science and building things. 'Okay, nerd. I guess I'll get you back to doing your thing and I'll go do mine down on the ground.'

'Yeah, go have fun on your adventure date with Sir Blake.' Raven jestered, raising her eyebrows. Her facial expression suddenly changed, seeing that I wasn't blushing like I always did. 'What's wrong with you two?'

'Nothings wrong, uhm sort of. More of there's something more with me I guess.' I couldn't figure out the words to say.

'Is this about what I told you before cryo? About Echo and him?' She instantly became worried, feeling guilty about everything. 'I'm sorry Y/N, I didn't mean for-'

'John and I slept together.' I blurted out, biting my lip as I saw Raven's eyes widen. 'Please don't make it a huge deal.'

Raven squealed, covering her mouth as she tried to process everything. 'It is a huge deal! Wait, when did this happen? Does Bellamy know? Give me more details.'

'Right after you told me about Bellamy kissing Echo and nope he doesn't know.'

'Oh wow. So you ran way from me to Murphy's open arms to open your legs.' Raven smirked, laughing out loud which made me roll my eyes.

'Yeah, yeah, laugh it off.' I flicked her lightly on her hand, 'I'm serious though. I feel something for him again.'

'Are you sure you're not just confused?'

'I mean, maybe but it doesn't change the fact that he cheated on me.' It felt to weird to say that out loud, it was even weirder to admit that I had feelings for John.

This whole thing with John might be just confusion like Raven said, but it felt too real to think that it was a fling. I wouldn't act on my feelings if it wasn't for the right reason, I could never do that to John.

'Now that you mention it, he did look like a sad puppy when you kicked him out of Kane's room earlier.'

'Now you're making me feel bad.'

'Don't. You have every right to be mad at him, especially because he never told you.' Raven admitted, 'But you have to talk to him.'

She may be right, I mean Raven was always right. But I didn't want anything to ruin what I had; Bellamy did say he wanted to take things slow.

I just couldn't do it, not right now.

✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤

Clarke pulled the lever, exposing us to the new planet or as Raven corrected, moon, our new home. I held my breath, looking at everyone's expression to see if the place was habitable.

'You can breathe, Y/N.' Shaw chuckled as he saw I was struggling to hold my breath.

Exhaling dramatically, I ran outside. It had been a long time since I felt freedom and peace. After being in the bunker for all those years, we were rescued to be brought back to a massacre. It felt nice to finally have a new beginning.

Murphy ran right behind me, picking me up around and spinning me. 'New planet, here we come!'

'Actually, it's a moon. Raven confirmed.' I laughed, ignoring everyone else's gaze knowing that people are definitely questioning what was happening between us.

'You might wanna be careful, Y/N. Your wound on your leg is still healing.' Echo unexpectedly warned me. I didn't know how I felt about that, given the fact that she kissed my boyfriend. Or maybe even more.

As much as I wanted to be angry at Echo, I couldn't. It wasn't like she knew me and Bellamy's situation, I think. I did envy her a little bit; she was able to spend all those year on The Ring with him.

'Ah yeah. Thanks.' As I awkwardly replied back to Echo, I followed Miller into the woods.

Shaw rushed next to me, started to walk beside me as the rest of the group were behind us. 'Uh, so what's going on with you and Murphy?'

I turned to him, raising my eyebrow. 'Why are you asking me all of the sudden? Did Raven ask to stalk me?'

'Her exact words were "you're my spy."' Shaw chuckled, 'Sorry, was that too direct?'

'Yeah, you can say that.' I laughed, walking side by side with him into the forest. 'I appreciate you looking after Raven. I know you two have been through a lot with McCreary.'

He nodded, 'Raven is strong. I can say she helped me through a lot and not the other way around. I've heard stuff about you and I'm guessing the mental strength runs in the Reyes family.'

'No, no not at all. Raven and I can't be compared.' Giving him a fake smile, I was hoping to change the subject. 'Anyways, I'm really glad she has you.'

'You don't give yourself enough credit, Y/N. I've heard a lot about you.' Shaw tapped me on the shoulder, 'But I'm really glad to have her too. She's very special.'

As I smiled at Shaw, I bumped onto Miller's back who stood still in front of me. Curious of why he stopped, I turned to his gaze. 'Miller, you shouldn't stop whe- woah.'

There was a huge body of water spread across, light glistening as it reflected from the sun. A huge smile spread across my face, I'd never seen something so beautiful.

'Wow. Thank you, Monty.' Miller mumbled, turning around and looking at me. His smile was as big as mine, if not bigger. 'We definitely don't see this at the bunker.'

'Well, race you to the water!!' I laughed as I pushed Miller to the side. Cheater! I heard him yell from behind, eventually catching up to me.

Miller splashed water on me, playing and lightly pushing me into the water. 'You really thought you can beat me.'

'Meh, you only did because my leg is fucked up.'

'Don't have fun without me now!' John ran from the shore, jumping into the water as he splashed me and Miller.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Bellamy watching me with a smile on his face. The instance guilt rushed through my body, knowing that the best thing to do was talk to him about everything that was happening.

Bellamy motioned me to come over, he still had that smile on his face which made me assume he wasn't mad. I didn't really have a reason to say no, I decided to come up from the water and follow him.

'Are you avoiding me Reyes?' He blurted, taking a seat on the log. 'I- Did I do something? I know we're not necessarily dating but I don't know... I feel pushed away.'

It was hard to look him in the eyes, knowing that those secrets were hiding deep into his mind. Except I knew that he was keeping it away from me.

Biting my lips, I stared at the rocky sand. The way he looked at me, it was so intense and I could tell he wanted answers. At the same time I felt dumb, the way he acted as though nothing happened.

'How long were you going to keep it from me?'

'What?'

'If the Dark Year never happened, if Skafaiya was out of the picture and hypothetically we were still dating... How long would it have taken you to tell me about Echo?'

The look in his eyes changes instantly, that moment Bellamy knew exactly what I was talking about. 'Reyes-'

'What, Blake? What bullshit excuse are you going to pull from this?'

'It wasn't like that, okay?' He stood up as he buried his face into his hands, looking for words to say. 'W-we never had sex.'

A light laugh escaped my mouth, not believing what he just said. 'Are you serious?'

'Yes, we never slept-'

'You asshole!' I shoved him hard but that barely did anything, making it more frustrating for me. 'You're such an ass and nothing has changed since we met.'

I didn't want to shed any tears for Bellamy or at least show him that I was crying over this. Instantly, I walked away from the beach and into the woods.

How dare he say that he never had sex with Echo. Was I supposed to praise him, be happy that it just ended with a kiss?

All the talk about surviving for each other, loving each other and wanting to be my boyfriend felt like an excuse to keep me waiting for him. It was embarrasing for me to wait for him when he backstabbed me, in front of everyone that stayed at The Ring.

Bellamy tailed me into the woods, calling for my name over and over. Eventually he caught up, his legs faster than mine and my injury didn't get me far either.

'Y/N, I promise you. I promise it's not like how it sounds.'

'Do you hear yourself? Do you honestly think that any excuse is going to make this okay? You made me believe you'd wait for me when you told me to survive for you.'

'I am happy, Y/N! I'm so happy that you're here. You don't know how happy I was to see you we rescued you from the bunker.'

'Then why did you kiss Echo?' Tears streamed from my eyes, I felt deceived and tricked by Bellamy. I truly trusted him with everything to keep going for him. 'When you fought for me to stay, you made me feel like I was worth it, that I deserved to be loved by someone.'

Bellamy's face dropped, I saw in his eyes that he felt guilt. But that wasn't enough to make up the pain I felt.

'All my life I felt unworthy of love, Blake. My parents were assholes and Kane eventually left me too. John finally made me feel something until I got locked up, I thought it was a sign that maybe I didn't really deserve him.'

'Then we got sent down and that didn't go well, me and you were constantly rocky and Kane left me again at the bunker. I held onto you for so long after made me realize maybe Priamfaya wasn't the end for me, I told myself maybe Bellamy was someone that loved me.'

'Y/N...' He cried, cheeks wet from the tears that rolled down his face. 'You know I love you, I always have and always will.'

'Apparently not enough. You didn't think of me when you kissed Echo, you've done it more than once and that tells me you don't love me enough.'

'Please Y/N-'

'Stop, this is already hard for me. Just leave me alone.' Even with the tears I've shed, there were more I was holding onto that I didn’t want to let out. I just wanted to let everything out and cry, the pain was just too much.

Turning away from Bellamy, I walked towards the other direction away from everyone else. There was no way I was going back to the beach, I couldn’t face all of them with my eyes red and puffy from crying.

I walked deeper into the woods, not having any clue where I was going. There was a possibility that I could run into a new grounder on this mood, but I was too hurt to care.

Soon enough, I’ve gotten out of the woods and saw a huge field, I started to become curious of how far I’ve walked from the beach. As I tried to move forward, a sudden force field bounced me backwards and I started to feel pain all over my body.

‘Y/N!’ Bellamy screamed, running over to me as fast as he can. He was still crying, his tears falling on my neck as he hovered over me. ‘Y/N!'

#the 100 rewrite #the 100 series #down below series #bellamy blake series #raven reyes x sister!reader #the 100 fic #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fic

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, ravenclawkward-art!

For @ravenclawkward-art. Happy Christmas! I hope you enjoy!!

Read On AO3

*****

Derek catches the first hint of the scent as he fits the key into the lock. Traces of vanilla, cinnamon and the earthy tang of petrichor hang in the air— it’s a scent he’s become thoroughly acquainted with over the last few years.

He pushes open the front door, prompting the scent to waft through and envelope him like a warm hug.

“How did you get in?” He asks, not even looking at the figure sprawled across his couch. Moving through to the kitchen, Derek sets down his paper bag of groceries. “Actually, how did you get here?” He asks, turning. He hadn’t seen the Jeep on his way in.

“Oh, you know.” Stiles wanders in after him, hopping up onto the counter beside the fridge. “Magic.” He punctuates the word with jazz hands.

Derek huffs fondly, rolling his eyes and reaching for the milk. “Don’t you have friends you can annoy instead?”

“Good try big guy,” Stiles teases, helping Derek by handing him things out of the bag. “I’m here for the pack meeting.”

“You’re three hours early.”

“I’m super punctual.” Stiles swings his legs, knocking his heels into the cupboard door beneath him. “Oh.” His legs still suddenly and he drops down from the counter. “You got mail.” He disappears out of the room for a minute, returning with a letter, still talking. “Like, who even sends mail anymore? I swear werewolves live in the stone ages.”

Derek snatches the envelope Stiles is waving in his face, tearing it open to scan the letter inside.

“It’s the Robertson pack.”

“The who pack?” Stiles peers at the letter over Derek’s shoulder, trying to read along. Saving him the effort, Derek passes it over when he’s done.

“The Robertson pack took me and Laura in after the fire,” Derek explains, moving to lean against the bench. “Their Alpha, Sarah, knew my mom when they were young.”

“Why didn’t you stay with them?” Stiles asks, folding up the letter. “You and Laura lived in New York on your own. Wouldn’t it have been better to stay with another pack?”

Derek shakes his head. “I wanted to, but- Laura had just become Alpha. It made things difficult. So, we left. We kept in touch for a while, but after coming back here, after Laura’s death and everything that happened with Peter… we just lost touch.”

“Until now?” Stiles hands back the letter. “They’re asking permission to enter the territory.”

Nodding, Derek takes it, unfolding and refolding the paper carefully in his hands. “I’ve never hosted another pack before. Mom did it a couple of times.”

“What does it involve?”

“It varies depending on the pack. We would offer them a place to stay and a meal. The Robertson are old family friends so it will probably be a little more informal. More like… what does your dad do when extended family comes around?”

“He hides the good whiskey,” Stiles jokes. “But seriously, this is awesome and, as your emissary, I can help you plan.”

With a roll of his eyes, Derek turns from the kitchen. “You’re not my emissary.”

“Why not?” Stiles whines, trailing behind the werewolf. “I’d be so good at it.”

“At planning or being my emissary?”

“Por qué no los dos?” Stiles says it with an exaggerated wink, dropping back down onto the couch.

***

By six pm the rest of the pack have arrived, and the house is full of loud voices, lively conversation and laughter.

It’s taken a long time to reach this point—a point where the pack trust Derek as their Alpha, and each other. A point where a pack get together feels like… family.

Looking around the room, something swells in Derek’s chest at the sight of Kira and her swollen belly. Sandwiched between Stiles and Erica on the couch, she’s guiding their hands to feel the baby’s kicking.

His gaze flicks across Stiles, laughing at something Erica says, his head thrown back exposing the long line of his neck. A lot of this was Stiles’ doing.

Stiles was the one who had instituted pack night. He’d called it compulsory fun night. He’d begged and bullied every single one of them into gathering at the site of the old Hale house and had turned up with Lacrosse sticks and movies. He’d forced Derek to use his words when he was feeling frustrated and encouraged communication with the pack.

Derek had wanted nothing more than for the pack to bond together properly, so he had done as Stiles told him and in doing so, he’d built his confidence as an Alpha.

Stiles looks up suddenly, catching Derek’s eye from across the room, and winks, before turning back to Kira without even breaking from their conversation. Derek feels his face flush and ducks back into the kitchen to finish cooking.

This was something Derek had initiated. Everyone takes a turn providing for the pack, whether it’s a home cooked meal or take out.

Derek’s made tacos. He sets out meat and salsa and guacamole on the counter so that everyone can serve themselves and starts building his own before the literal wolves descend.

It becomes a free for all after that. Derek snatches his plate and his beer and escapes to the living room. The rest of the pack follow suit, finding places to perch and eat. The house has a more formal dining room, but they really only eat in there on special occasions, preferring to sprawl out in front of the TV.

“Hey.” Stiles drops down onto the couch beside Derek, almost toppling his tacos off his plate. He rescues one, jamming it onto his mouth and crunching down. “So, I spoke to Lydia and she said she can help with planning this pack get together thing.” He continues to talk around another mouthful of food, and it should be gross, but it’s just so Stiles.

“Uh huh.” Derek rescues Stiles’ beer before he sends it flying. “So, if Lydia’s in charge I guess should I be pulling out the tux?”

With a snort, Stiles retrieves his drink and drains the bottle. “You own a tuxedo? I don’t believe you have ever worn a suit in your life.”

“Hey, I have hidden depths,” Derek counters. “I could own a tux.”

“I’d like to see that.” Stiles smirks and brings his beer back to his lips, seemingly forgetting that the bottle is empty. He lowers it quickly, face flushing—though, maybe that’s just the glow from the TV. Derek tries not to dwell on it.

Sometime around midnight the pack start to either filter out or upstairs. The house is big enough for everyone to stay over if need be, Derek made sure of that when building it, but he’s the only one who lives there full time—most of the pack have houses closer to town.

Derek doesn’t mind that they’re all spread out. There’s always someone over at any given time—usually Stiles. Speaking of, Stiles is sprawled out on the couch, snoring gently.

“Hey.” Derek wakes the spark gently. “You want to crash here?”

Stiles stretches on the couch, his shirt riding up to reveal the pale skin of his stomach. “Wha’ time izzit?”

“Almost one.”

“Oh.” Stiles sits up slowly, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Yeah, thanks.” He shuffles off towards the downstairs bathroom and Derek finishes unpacking the dishwasher. “Can I borrow a sweater?” He asks when he returns, his hands wrapped around his body to ward off the chill in the air. It’s two weeks until Christmas and winter has finally settled across Beacon Hills.

“Sure, come on.” Derek puts the last plate away and leaves the kitchen, heading to his bedroom. Stiles follows him upstairs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed while Derek digs through his drawers. “Here.”

Stiles takes the sweater and shrugs it on over his head. They’re the same height, but Stiles is not as broad as Derek so the sweater hangs, just a little, on his lanky frame. He paws his hands up in the sleeves and flops back onto the bed.

“I’m so tired,” he whines.

“Then go find your bed,” Derek tells him, nudging Stiles to move. “This one’s mine.”

“Can’t move. Too sleepy.”

“Stiles.”

“Can’t hear you. I’m already asleep.”

With a quick shove, Derek sends Stiles tumbling to the floor.

“Rude.” Picking himself up off the floor, Stiles sticks his tongue out at Derek and trots off to his room.

***

Three days later the whole pack gathers at Derek’s house.

Lydia, as always, has outdone herself with the spread. There is enough food and meat to feed a small army and she has the wolves all rotating through shifts on the spit. The rest of the pack are put to work moving tables and chairs out onto the wide green lawn.

Up on the porch, Isaac has set up speakers to play music while they work.

“One of the wards just triggered,” Stiles says, grinning as he sets down his armload of plates and cutlery. “Must be them.”

Twenty minutes later Boyd is the first to cock his head to catch the faint rumble of a car turning on to the winding track that leads up to the house. By the time their visitors pull up onto the grass, everyone (bar Scott and Jackson on spit duty) is gathered around on the porch.

“Alpha Robertson,” Derek greets walking up to the newly arrived group.

“Alpha Hale.” The werewolf’s mouth ticks up in a smile. “It’s good to see you Derek. It’s been too long.”

“It has.” Derek returns the smile. “Sarah, this is my pack,” he says, turning and gesturing to the curious faces lining the porch. He almost knocks his hands into Stiles, who is hovering a half-step behind him.”

“Stiles Stilinski,” he says pushing forward, arm outstretched in greeting. “Pack emissary.”

Derek barely restrains rolling his eyes in front of the older Alpha, turning to hide his face under the guise of beckoning forward the rest of the pack. After they’ve made their introductions, Sarah introduces the pack to her husband and three children, Alex, Mark and Lilah.

“So, what brings you out our way?” Stiles asks as they all walk back up to the house.

“My eldest joined the Thomson pack earlier this year,” Sarah explains. “We’re heading up to visit for Christmas.”

“She’s gonna have a baby,” the youngest kid, Alex, offers shyly from behind his mom.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Stiles tells him. “So, you’re going to be an uncle. I’m going to be an uncle soon too,” he says with a conspiratorial whisper and a head nod towards Kira.

“We’re not much for flying,” Sarah continues, “and we thought the trip might be a good opportunity to visit.”

Nodding, Stiles leads the way into the house. “Derek said you were friends with Talia.”

“We’re actually related.” Sarah grins when Stiles skids to an abrupt halt. “Third cousins?”

“Through Dad,” Derek confirms.

“What?” Stiles turns to Derek. “But you said- I thought your dad was human.”

“He was.”

“Huh. Cool.”

They show their visitors to their guest rooms so they can put down their bags and then take them outside.

Dinner is a rowdy affair.

There are fifteen of them crowded around the two long tables that have been dragged onto the grass. Once the younger members of the Robertson pack, namely Alex and his older brother Mark, get over the shyness of meeting strangers it’s every man for himself as the food is laid out.

“So, who’s manning the fort back home?” Stiles asks, leaning across Derek to talk to Sarah.

“Stiles,” Derek warns, nudging the human away from his plate. “You can’t ask that, it’s not polite.”

“Oh, sorry,” Stiles says, looking genuinely apologetic, but then he barrels on anyway. “I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just this guy here-” he pauses to bat at Derek’s shoulder “-keeps telling me we can’t leave the territory unguarded whenever I try to suggest getting away for a few days.”

“It’s fine,” Sarah is quick to reassure them. “My sister is looking after things while we’re gone. And Derek’s right when it comes to new packs.”

Derek raises his eyebrows at Stiles as if to say, ‘I told you so’ and ducks another playful swipe.

“But you’ve been Alpha for what, seven years now?” She asks. “And Beacon Hills has been Hale Pack territory for, I don’t know, generations, not to mention those wards we passed on the way in.” Sarah points to Stiles. “That was you?”

Stiles nods quickly. “Yep.” He accepts the bowl of baked potatoes from Boyd. “So, what you’re saying is that Derek needs to get out more? ‘Cos that’s what I’m hearing.”

“I’m saying that it’s okay to take a break occasionally.”

Stiles laughs, his knees knocking into Derek’s under the table. “Derek doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”

***

The full moon falls two days after the Robertson’s arrive and Derek invites Sarah and her family to run with them through the preserve.

It’s a Saturday and most of the pack have taken the weekend off, so they spend the day at the pack house, working off the restless energy that comes with a full moon. As the afternoon rolls on the games get rougher and someone digs out the lacrosse sticks.

“Count me in.” Stiles jogs over with Scott and Isaac and snatches up one of the sticks, twirling it in his hands.

“Is that a good idea?” Mark, the middle Robertson child, asks. “A human playing against werewolves?” He looks to Derek, tone dripping with cocky arrogance but Derek just shrugs.

“Oh, to have the confidence of a fifteen-year-old werewolf,” Stiles sighs, scooping up the ball. “I could have used some of that as a teenager.”

“Could have used some of the athleticism too,” Derek quips, knocking Stiles with one shoulder.

“Oh, you can shove it,” Stiles grins stumbling away, still in possession of the ball. “You playing or what kid?”

“Fine,” the young werewolf shrugs. “It’s your funeral.” His eyes flash gold.

“That’s not that impressive,” Stiles tells him. “I can do it too.”

“But you’re not a wolf.”

“So many doubters today.” He closes his eyes for a moment and when they re-open they shine bright with the power of his spark.

“You going to play or just keep showing off?” Boyd asks.

Stiles grins, playfully baring his teeth “Oh, it’s on.”

The moon finally breaches the horizon just after four pm. It’s not yet dark enough to go running through the preserve, but some wolves start shedding clothes and skin, sprouting fur as they shift from two legs to four.

The lacrosse game is forgotten in favour of chasing each other around the clearing.

“Don’t even think about it,” Stiles warns, backing away from Derek. “We will not be playing chase the human tonight.”

Grinning wolfishly, smile wide and full of teeth, Derek makes a big show of slowing kicking his sneakers off.

“I’m not kidding Der, I will end you.”

“Better start running,” Derek teases, pulling his shirt up over his head. From the corner of his eye, he can see the rest of his pack watching with various shades of amusement.

“Fuck you buddy.”

Derek can tell there’s no heat behind the words and Stiles is trying to hold back a smile. He’s bolting off around the house before Derek’s shirt has even hit the ground.

“Go on then,” Stiles says once it’s finally dark enough to enter the preserve. “Pick on Stiles time is over; I need a nap after that.” He sprawls out on his back in the grass, staring up at the sky. It’s a clear, cool night.

Derek stands over him, nosing at Stiles’ hair then swinging his head towards the trees. He takes a half step, waiting for Stiles to follow.

“I think I’m going to hang here with the women and children,” Stiles says, craning his head back. “I’ll just slow you down. You have fun though.” He reaches up to tangle his fingers in Derek’s coarse fur before giving him a gentle shove towards the forest. “Go on.”

With one final glance over his shoulder, Derek trots off into the trees.

***

By the time they return to the house, everyone is exhausted. Derek immediately searches out Stiles as he re-enters the clearing. He’s easy enough to find, sitting by the dying bonfire chatting to Kira. The red glowing embers illuminate their faces and cast deep shadows across the lawn.

Derek pads over to them, drawn to Stiles like a moth to flame, flopping down in the grass beside Stiles.

“Good run?” Stiles asks, slumping back so that he’s half leaning against Derek. The werewolf lets out a soft contented rumble. “Mm, glad to hear it,” Stiles mumbles around a yawn.

“Ugh, it’s late,” Kira complains from where she sits. “I think I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you boys tomorrow.” She stands with Scott’s help, and waddles back towards the house.

“I think I’m going to call it too.” Stiles pats Derek on the shoulder and stands slowly, taking the time to stretch before heading inside.

Derek waits until he’s inside before he heads off in search of his discarded clothes, still sitting and collecting dew on the grass. He shifts, picking up his sweatpants and shaking them out. He pulls them on and makes his way towards the porch.

“You should be proud of what you’ve created here.” Sarah joins him at the top of the steps. They lean against the porch railing and watch the wolves still sprawled out in the grass after the run. “You’ve built a strong pack. I know Talia would be proud of you.”

Derek ducks his head. There’s a warm feeling in his stomach at the Alpha’s words. “I didn’t think I’d find this again.” He confesses, voice low. “And, for a while I didn’t think deserved it.”

There’s a familiar footfall behind them and the comforting scent of cinnamon and vanilla.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt.” Stiles wanders up beside them. “Can I borrow a sweater?”

“Did you return the last one you ‘borrowed’?” Derek asks.

“Hey,” Stiles leans against him, one arm slung across Derek’s shoulders. “It’s not my fault your clothes are so damn comfy. If you didn’t want me taking them, you should have bought cheaper, scratchier sweaters. Ever think about that Der?”

“Fine,” Derek gives in quickly, waving Stiles off before he can launch into another tirade on the superiority of Derek’s sweaters.

“Thanks.” Stiles trots off, letting his hand trail across Derek’s back.

“You guys are good together,” Sarah says, her voice warm. “You’re lucky to have found a mate like Stiles.”

“Mm,” Derek nods, eyes following Stiles back towards the house. The words sink in and he freezes, mind frantically replaying every interaction he’s had with Stiles over the last few days, wondering how they could have possibly given her that impression.

Stiles is- he’s Stiles. He’s funny and smart and kind and— they’re not mates, no matter how much Derek might wish otherwise.

Still, he doesn’t correct her.

Instead, he makes some mumbled excuse about being tired and escapes to his bedroom.

That, at least, is the truth. It’s been a long night and now the sun is just beginning to peek up over the horizon. Derek feels as though he could sleep for a week as he climbs the stairs to the second level and throws his bedroom door open ready to crawl beneath the covers.

“Stiles.” He nudges the lump half hidden under the covers. “This isn’t your bed.”

The younger man murmurs something unintelligible and rolls onto his side.

With a sigh, Derek pulls back the covers, and climbs into bed.

***

He’s warm when he wakes.

So, very warm.

There’s a line of cinnamon scented heat pressed down the length his chest. Lying there in the soft space between sleep and wakefulness, Derek feels more comfortable that he ever has in his life.

And then the warm body in front of him shifts and Derek is suddenly very aware that Stiles is that warm body. He must have pulled him in to his chest at some point while they slept.

Carefully drawing back the arm that had been casually slung across Stiles’ waist, Derek wiggles back on the bed so that he’s no longer pressed up against his packmate. The sheets are gathered around their waists, hiding Derek’s rather unfortunate issue, but it doesn’t hide the pale expanse of skin where Stiles’ sweater has ridden up over his side.

With a bitten-off sigh Derek rolls out of bed and stumbles across to the bathroom.

He stands, head bowed beneath the spray and lets the pounding water rinse away the dirt and sweat that still clung from the full moon run. He tries not to think about the fact he’s still hard, and lets his mind drift, but his thoughts keep coming back to Stiles, stretched out in Derek’s own bed.

With one hand coming up to brace against the wall, Derek palms himself with the other. He allows a single flash of guilt before letting his thoughts drift back to the bed, to the hollow of Stiles throat. He starts slow, working up to a quick rhythm and biting back a soft moan.

He’s close, the pleasure starting to pool in his gut and Derek increases the pace. His mind wanders to the dip of Stiles’ hips between the ruched-up shirt and the low-slung sleep shorts. His own hips jerk in short aborted thrusts and he comes with a swallowed curse.

After washing away the evidence, Derek cuts the running water and reaches for a towel.

Stiles is still asleep when Derek re-enters the room, so he dresses quickly and slips out the door. The house is quiet, with most wolves having only gone to bed a few hours ago, but there’s a soft clatter of someone moving about downstairs.

“You’re up early,” Derek says, stepping into the kitchen.

Scott stifles a yawn with the back of his hand and gestures to the coffee maker that has just beeped. “The baby is awake,” he mutters, reaching for the pot. “Which means Kira is awake, which means I am awake.” He pours himself a generous serving, filling the mug up to the rim, then passes the pot over. “Why are you up?”

“Sarah thinks Stiles is my mate.” The words come out in a rush.

“Yeah? And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?”

“I mean…” Scott looks uncertain. “What’s the problem? Was that all she said?”

“She said we’re good together.”

“Okay.”

“Scott.”

“What?” Scott leans back against the counter. “You are! You’re like the pack mom and dad.”

Derek waves him off. “Stiles doesn’t even like me like that!”

Scott scoffs against the rim of his mug. “What are you talking about? Stiles is crazy about you.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Dude, can’t you smell it? He’s like, super aroused around you, like all the time.”

“That’s just Stiles’ scent. He always smells like that.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

Derek’s expression goes blank. “He doesn’t?”

Shaking his head, Scott continues. “It’s only when he’s around you… or talking about you… or thinking about you. It’s super gross.”

“I didn’t know.”

“He’s over here all the time! He’s asleep in your bed right now- don’t give me that look, you reek of Stiles.” Scott refills his mug and moves to pat Derek on the arm. “He likes you man, like, really, really likes you. Honestly, you’d have to be blind not to see it.”

***

The Robertson pack head off the next morning once everyone is well rested. There are fewer people around to see them off— Scott had been called in to an emergency at the vet and Erica had dragged Boyd off to visit her parents.

“It was really good to see you Derek. Please don’t be a stranger.” Derek lets himself be bundled up in a hug before Sarah moves on to say goodbye to the rest of the pack. “Stiles, you make sure to remind that stubborn mate of yours to take a break every now and then.”

Watching from the corner of his eye, Derek can’t quite read Stiles’ facial expression. If he’s surprised, he certainly doesn’t say anything, just returns the Alpha’s hug and cheerfully waves until the car disappears down the driveway.

Once they’re gone, Derek makes his excuses and escapes to his bedroom. Despite Scott’s assurances, he still hasn’t said anything to Stiles.

“We need to talk.”

Derek starts so badly at the voice in his room. “How do you keep getting in?” He asks, turning to face the doorway.

“Magic.”

“Still not funny.”

“Uh, it’s hilarious,” Stiles says, grinning.

“The door was locked Stiles.”

“I know, figured you were either moping about something or jerking off. Decided to take my chances.” He walks into the room, shutting the door behind him and leans against the far wall. “Anyway, you’re dressed, so you probably weren’t jerking off, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’ve been avoiding me since yesterday, something’s wrong.” He’s still smiling, but Stiles’ scent has turned tart with concern.

“It was nothing, just something Alpha Robertson said.”

“I like her.” Stiles gazes at Derek thoughtfully. He pushes away from the wall and crosses the room to sit on the bed. “She seems like a good Alpha.”

“She is.”

“You’re a good Alpha too.”

Derek smiles, ducking his head. It’s high praise coming from Stiles.

“A little clueless sometimes...”

The smile drops from his face.

“Let me guess.” Stiles leans forward, his arms braced against his knees. “Your current mopey face has something to do with what Sarah said before?”

Derek can’t look at him, he stares at the patterns in the carpet instead.

“The other night, she called us mates and you didn’t correct her.”

Derek’s stomach drops as his head jerks up. “You heard that?”

“It wasn’t exactly whispered. She said it right as I was leaving. Why-” Stiles swallows audibly. “Why didn’t you correct her?”

Letting out the breath he’s been holding, Derek asks, “Why didn’t you?”

He watches Stiles’ face carefully, scrutinising every little expression that flickers across his face in that second, reading the exact moment he makes up his mind with the slight lift of one brow and the uptick at the corners of his mouth.

“I wanted it to be true.”

Derek can only imagine what his own face must look like, caught someplace between shock and joy at Stiles’ words. His grin is probably bordering on manic when he says, “me too.”

“Oh. That’s-” Stiles licks his lips and tries again. “Good. That’s good. I’m, uh-” His gaze flick from Derek’s eyes to his lips. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Stiles’ hand hooks into the Derek’s shirt, drawing him in. Fingers tangle in his hair and then Stiles’ lips are on his, warm and urgent.

When they pull away from each other Stiles laughs, knocking his knees into Derek’s.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so fucking long.

*Epilogue*

The glare from the window falls right across Derek’s face and he shifts, slowly surfacing from the depths of sleep. He drags his arm up to cover his face, provoking a grunt from the person who’d been using it as a pillow.

Stiles shifts, rolling over to blink up at Derek.

“Morning.”

Derek throws his arm over Stiles’ hip, dragging him in so their bodies are flush. “You’re in my bed.”

“Nuh uh, it’s my bed now,” Stiles teases sleepily, stealing a quick kiss before tucking his head under Derek’s chin. “Oh.” He pulls away suddenly and rolls to the edge of the bed, leaning over to rummage around underneath it. Sitting back up, he holds out a present wrapped in brightly coloured paper. “Happy birthday.”

Derek sits up against the pillows and takes the parcel. “Thank you.”

“I got you a Christmas present too,” Stiles says. “But you can’t open it until we get to Dad’s.” He gestures for Derek to unwrap the paper. “It’s not much.”

“It’s perfect.”

#ravenclawkward-art #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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