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royallyprincesslilly · 1 year

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Title: Message My Heart {One Shot}

Lewis Hamilton x Famous Reader

Warning: Cursing, Heavy Angst, Some Fluff, PLENTY OF WORDS,

Words: 8.2k

Summary: You are a famous and jaded singer. You’ve closed yourself off from others and even experiences. However, one unexpected comment changes everything.

Note: Let's pretend we all can't recognize or man in .2 seconds from a super pixelated shot of his forehead alone. Let's pretend that we never followed this man a day in our lives. LOL

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it!

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~~

You'd posted this on a whim, as a joke and nothing serious. It was a night you should have been kept away from your socials, a night of heavy drinking, illicit smoke passing your lips, and hours and hours of dancing until your legs were sore and the bottoms of your feet were numb. A night of laughs, tears, anger, and joy. A night all in the hopes of forgetting the loneliness of your existence.

Though you were never alone you always felt it. You were always surrounded by at least 10 people at any given time, always having someone snap your picture, scream your name, begging for an autograph, for you to smile, for you to pose this and that way, for a moment of your time, your voice, your heart, your life.

It was exhausting always being on display like you were 24/7 entertainment and not a person. Everyone believed you belonged to them and hence you had no right to privacy, no right to be human or left alone. Everything was always so intense and fast-paced, so sexualized and impersonal. You guessed it was the price to pay for the life you chose because of the vocal talent you possessed and oftentimes you believed you had no right to complain because you had chosen this, though you had no idea what this really was all those years ago.

You groaned, wrapped your fur blanket around your naked figure then took a heady sip of your mimosa. Then you scrolled through the comments underneath your post. You rolled past comment after comment of men giving you their sexual fantasies which ranged from mild to very depraved. You were beyond shocked that people would actually speak filth like this on social media for the world to see and not feel shame.

As you scrolled, you also noted how most of those sexual fantasies were deleted. That told you that your social media team was on it and doing the job they were paid handsomely for.

Your ringing phone drew your attention and without looking you knew it was your manager. You sighed then answered.

"Yeah."

"What were you thinking posting that? What did you think would happen?"

"I wasn't thinking."

"Damn right you weren't. The ways that statement could be taken."

"It's not like it was meant the way it was taken! Look I am not going to apologize for the depravity and lewdness of most of the male population. I will not take responsibility for that, nor do I deserve you calling me to belittle me about it."

With that, you ended the call. He was on thinner ice than he'd ever been before. You were ready to fire his ass before but now you were past ready. Your anger tried to overtake you but you recited the mantra you'd learned from your Balinese getaway where had a strong spiritual awakening that made you confront just how bad a shape you were in.

It took 7 repetitions but at the end of them, you felt more rooted in your strength. You continued scrolling rolling your eyes at comments that were weird or cringe then your finger hovered over the screen as a particular comment caught your eye.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Take you away from everyone who makes those beautiful eyes empty and sad so I can gently caress and love away the pain that shines through wrapped around the lyrics of every slow song you put out that your voice so hauntingly expresses to the world. I would just simply love you for all you are that you hide from the world and all you wish to be that you fear you can never be.

For a very long time, you sat there staring at the words in a complete daze. You sat there so long that you actually forgot to breathe. When your chest burned and your head got light, you gasped filling your lungs. You then read the comment again.

Holy shit, you thought.

Who was this person? So many things raced through your mind. Was this just some random person, some random response? Did they know you? How was everything he said so on point? They'd seen through your eyes. Heard the pain. Slowly you began hyperventilating but quickly you got yourself under control. Who was this?

You clicked their name but found their account on private. You contemplated messaging them but quickly decided against it. It was stupid to do.

So you went about your day fulfilling your obligations and doing everything you normally would. Smiled for the cameras, posed for pictures, signed endless autographs, chatted with fans, kept everything PC, shook hands, and gave the people what they so thought they were owed. Every bit of yourself.

However, as your day progressed and winded down you couldn't stop thinking about the comment, and the more you thought about it, the more your curiosity increased. So by the time you were on your way home for the night, you went back on social and sent a follow request before you chickened out, then closed the app.

Though you tried to forget it, you didn't. So as you ate dinner, watched TV, showered, did a little work then wrote some lyrics you had it in the back of your head. When you checked it you couldn't help but smile as you found your request had been approved. However not much was posted in the way of a face. There were plenty of animal pictures, landscapes, and abstract things but nothing to tell you who this person was.

So with nothing to quell your curiosity, you backed off of their page ready to close the app all together when a red '1' appeared indicating you'd received a message. It took all of 5 seconds for you to open it.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Didn't imagine this would be the end of my day when I started it.

You smiled. Hell neither did you.

You: Me neither.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: To what do I owe the pleasure?

You thought about your possible response. You couldn't just tell the truth...could you? After some minutes you bit the bullet.

You: Why did you comment that?

You watched the three dots appear and disappear 5 times as you anxiously waited for their reply. You imagined all the things they could say, all the ways you'd possibly misread the situation and made a wrong decision. Just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, came a lengthy response.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: I was just being honest and some more honesty would be that I've been following you for a long time and been a fan for about the same time and there is something about you. Something ethereal, something poetic and hypnotizing.

You: Ah. Another fan of my looks. Okay. I get it.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: This has nothing to do with your looks and everything to do with your aura. To be truthful I am convinced you look 1000 times better without the layers of makeup and lashes. It cheapens your beauty. The glow around you has changed over the years. It began beautiful and golden and has morphed into copper, then rust, now it is barely visible and just a shimmery black as if you are a former shell of who you were.

Talk about a stab in the gut. You read their words over and over and thought back to something the Dali said in Bali. It was something similar, something just as profound. A shiver rushed through you producing goosebumps along your flesh.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: I posted that comment because I saw you and wanted you to know it. I wanted you to know that while the world wants something--everything from you I want nothing but to give something to you.

The tears in your eyes made your lids heavy. You fought the inevitable struggling to keep them at bay.

You: And what's that?

The reply was lightning quick as if he knew you'd ask.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Safety and love.

That was it. That was all it took for your bottom lid to give up and release the floodgates. Your tears cascaded down your cheeks and they didn't stop for long minutes that turned into hours until you'd cried yourself to sleep.

~~~~~

-12 Weeks Later-

A stranger's kind words to a random drunken post ended up being a gift from the universe. Every time you talked which was every day now he put you at ease. It was like having the worst case of poison ivy that nothing soothed but that one salve you decided to try on a whim. He was that salve and every time you spoke his effect was one that mystified you.

Your moods improved, intrusive thoughts decreased, and depression staved off. Hell, even your outlook had changed. Once everything was bleak. You saw the worst in everyone and everything. You were Ms. Pessimistic always with the defensive wall because you expected everyone you encountered to be trash. Now, that outlook had changed and because of the chance you were giving him and him not fumbling it was slowly changing your mind about people.

When you asked him what his motives were, he simply said to be your friend because you looked like you needed one of those more than someone to tell you how beautiful you are or break your back. That answer floored you. Never had you had a man who wanted to be your friend as opposed to something else--something more.

So friends was what you became. He became one of your biggest supporters always cheerleading you on through social media. He was the ever-present positivity your negative mind craved. His light and vibe were contagious and soon they'd infiltrated your whole outlook. He even got you into jogging, which you hated. Every morning at the ass crack of dawn you were jogging together sending snapshots of the view you were zipping by, short text messages throughout, and even voice messages.

You often decompressed together either watching a movie, playing against one another on gaming platforms, or just doing the same activities in your own towns. Through it all, you still didn't know what he looked like still didn't know who he really was and though you were curious, you also were afraid to rock the boat.

When your friends found out about him they often badgered you into figuring out who he was. They even offered to do a deep dive investigation on social to figure it out. You knew they could crack the case in a few hours but again the fear told you not to.

"What are you afraid of?"

It was a good question that one of your best friends, Alaana, asked as you sat with both of them in your theater room watching the latest release on Netflix. Twiddling your fingers, you avoided her eyes.

"Do you think he's a perv?"

Your other friend, Takia, gasped as she shot upright. "That he's a catfish?"

"Who is he catfishing as? She doesn't even know who he is let alone if he looks like who he says he is," Alaana pointed out.

"So what is it? Afraid he's butt ugly?"

The two cackled together as if they were the best stand-up comedians alive while you gave them your best unamused expression.

"Just tell us," Alaana whined.

"Rocking the boat."

They stared at you in confusion which made you even more frustrated. With a kiss of your teeth and a sigh you continued.

"Disillusionment. What if finding out who he is or what he looks like rocks the boat and destabilizes everything? What if things change and not for the better? Like I have no idea how this man I know nothing about was able to--"

"Bring back the Y/N before you got famous and jaded?"

The three of you nodded and sat there in silence for a few moments as if giving that silence to your former self as a show of sorrowful recognition.

"He hasn't even done anything. He's just been...there."

"The universe usually brings us what we need at the time we need it. What if he is what you need?"

"I've thought about that the last few weeks. I don't know how but somehow the way I think of him has changed. I daydream about him and get giddy when I think of him. I don't remember this with anyone else and it's weird because I don’t know him in the slightest."

"You like him," Takia accused.

"I don't know him."

"Girl, please. You've been talking to this man every day for the last 3 months. Every day. You know his routine, know his likes, dislikes, and dreams. You know him so just take the next step. Maybe you guys can make things work past friends. His first initial message to you was that he would love away the pain and love all you are that you hide from the world and all you wish to be that you fear you can never be."

Hearing his earliest words spoken made goosebumps skirt across your skin. They still affected you, still made you weak.

"No lie at first I thought it was creepy but seeing how pure and innocent it has turned it doesn't make me cringe anymore. I think at least find out who he is then decide."

"What if he's some normal guy who is like a doctor or teacher?"

"Would that make you think twice?"

"Normal people don't do well in this world. It's hard to understand and adjust to."

"Or maybe he is in this world."

"Making anything work in this world sucks especially if they are already in it."

"Which is the more appealing one?"

Just then your notifications went off. Checking it, you found a new message from him.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: I'm sorry I'm on a business trip and it has been a crazy day. I'm all yours now. How are you?

You smiled and typed out a reply.

You: No need for sorries. I can't expect to have you all to myself 24/7

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: And why not? It's nothing short of what you deserve.

Lite fluttering butterflies took over your stomach making you burrow deeper into the couch.

You: So are you saying if I want you 24/7 then you're mine?

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Even if you don’t want me I’m yours.

"Oh my god," Alaana squealed.

Glancing back, you found Alaana peeping over your right shoulder and Takia over your left. Both had literal heart eyes.

"Ask for a picture," Takia badgered.

"Tell him you'll send one too," Alaana backed up.

Shaking your head, you chewed your bottom lip trying to stick to your guns though the curiosity was killing you. Just then, another message came through.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Scared you off?

You chewed more intently on your bottom lip as you thought over his words. You weren't scared in the slightest.

You: It takes more than that to scare me.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Good to know. So the real question is, could you--would you want me?

Seconds later, an image came through and you sat there dazed staring into the most beautiful pair of brown eyes you'd ever seen.

"Wooooow," Alaana and Takia said in unison.

"That there is a beautiful man," Takia added.

She was right. Though you could only see his eyes you could see that they were kind eyes and kind eyes said a lot about someone. It had been a long time since you'd looked into a pair of kind eyes and now faced with his, you wanted nothing more than to stare into them for the foreseeable future.

"Holy Shit," you exclaimed.

"Right. Girl, I can tell he fine. I can tell these things. You can see it in the nose bridge. That's a nose bridge of a fine piece of man," Alaana said.

"The nose bridge? Come on Lana, I would have said the eyebrows and the lashes. Like, did he go to the lash bar or something? I'm jealous," Takia added.

You heard them but nothing was registering. His eyes held you captivated.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Take your time. I'll wait.

And wait he did. Your friends booed you for not answering with a resounding "hell yeah", but you didn't let it phase you. Tucking your phone away, you tried your best to focus on the rest of the movie while ignoring the big elephant trunk sticking out of your phone as if to remind you what was happening in it. You didn't need the reminder. Your mind was already thinking and overthinking the exchange.

By the time your friends had gone to sleep it was almost 2 in the morning and no matter how you tried, sleep evaded you. So with your phone in hand, a bottle of wine in the other you trekked to the pool and set yourself up. It took less than 5 minutes for you to end up back on your messages. 6 hours had gone by since his last message. 6 hours you'd left him on read. 6 hours you'd thought about his words. You pressed the audio record button then sighed.

"Even before you sent that picture...I could and would want you."

Your finger hovered over the send button and it was fear again that stood in your way. So as you did 12 weeks ago, you took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and pressed send. After, you dropped your phone on the lounger, grabbed the bottle of wine, and took a hearty gulp of the sweet red liquid. This brand had a higher alcohol content than most of your whites which meant it would be the best 'no thinking' wine for you. It would make it easy to relax and just exist in the moment. You leaned back and gazed into the sky. You were far enough away from the lights and glitz of the city that you could see the stars and tonight you were glad for it.

Releasing a sigh of contentment, you realized it had been years since you felt this calm. It was easy to get lost in the view which is what you did. By the time your notifications went off again, you'd had half the bottle of wine. It was a voice message.

His normally deep voice was even deeper now. He sounded as if he'd just woken up or was very intoxicated and in the mood for nothing but sin. You pressed your knees together as a sensation you hadn't felt in years washed over you--desire. Who in the fuck was this man to have this power, you wondered incredulously.

"Wow. I honestly didn't expect you to reply. I'm pleasantly surprised."

Smiling you took another mouthful of wine.

"Sorry it took so long."

"It's all good. No need to apologize. I understand you better than you think."

"How exactly? You've never met me."

"I actually did, once. It was in passing and I guess I didn't make an impression so..."

Your eyes bugged as you wracked your brain trying to figure out if you'd seen his eyes before. There was no way you'd forget eyes like those.

"Trying to think over all the people you've met through your life to see if you remember me?"

He sounded amused.

"I was trying to figure out how I could not remember eyes like yours. Since I don't think it's possible I'm going to say you're full of shit."

The recording that came next put the biggest smile on your face and set those butterflies flapping again. His laugh was a thing for masturbation.

"Real talk though."

"So safe to say you're not a teacher or CEO of some major company."

"Ha, no not a teacher. As for a CEO of some major company...that's pretty accurate."

You continued to think over who he could possibly be but nothing was sticking. The only thing that was sticking was more and more curiosity and confusion.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: As I said before. You'll know when you're ready and when you are ready...really ready for me I will be there.

You stared at his words. They were words he’d sent before. Words he'd patiently abided by. Words he apparently meant. Your heart in your chest purred as of it were blissfully soothed and content. Staring back up at the stars you gaped in wonderment.

"Wow."

~~~~~~~

-4 Weeks Later-

You: I'm ready.

You stared at the message you'd sent 30 minutes ago. You couldn't believe you'd mustered up the courage to send it let alone actually meant it. In the last 16 weeks, there had been more than enough things that were working for him than against him. He was kind, funny, patient, funny, gentle, honest, gracious, spoke of his faith in things in such a way that instilled faith in you. You'd gone from not seeing the point in continuing if emptiness was all that awaited you to wanting the next day to come so you could experience new things through and with him.

Takia asked you a week ago if you'd fallen in love with him and though you were apprehensive to give her any response your heart lurched and thudded even more strongly within your chest. Since then, you'd thought even more about meeting him.

Today you woke with a stronger desire to meet him, touch his skin and see if he smelled how you imagined, like vanilla, cedar, spiced and fragrant musk, an open field of lavender, and lemon thyme and ripe citrus. You just wanted to be in the same room to see if you were romanticizing a stranger for his kind words or if there was really something there.

"You'll be late if we don't leave now," your new manager Iyla said.

Since firing your old manager and having Iyla come in who was always in his shadow because of how obnoxious he was you'd felt better and better about your career. She'd really stepped up in the past few weeks and showed you what you already suspected, that she was good at what she did and was a much better fit for you.

Once you were out of the hotel and in your car on your way to the venue you were set to perform at, you harmonized your new song trying to make sure you had everything right. It was partly because of how much of a perfectionist you were but also to distract yourself from the silence on his end from your message.

You tried not to think that he'd seen it and left you on read or that he was not on the same page as you anymore or that he'd changed his mind about you. There were so many thoughts and possibilities running through your head that work was the only way to quiet them.

20 minutes later you arrived at the Versace show where you were going to perform. This would be a first where live music was used for the models to walk the runway rather than backtrack. When Donatella had approached you with the idea you leaped at the chance. Half of your closet was filled with Versace so there was no way you'd pass this up.

"This is so iconic," Iyla said as she readjusted your altered vintage Versace dress. The material fit you like a glove and accentuated all your striking features.

"You will be the first ever to perform at a Versace show, hell any show that isn't the VS shows. You are about to break into another layer of this atmosphere, forget the stratosphere," Iyla said with a wide smile.

There was something about her that always made you comfortable. Her vibe always gave off excited and caring big sister and you loved that.

"Are you nervous?"

You wiggled your hand to show her how in the middle of the fence you were.

"Don't be. You look amazing and we already know your voice is sublime. Talk about an Indica trip."

You smiled already feeling calmer. As you walked the black and gold carpet you smiled for the cameras and did a few interviews. Overall everyone was looking forward to the performance and the show. Across the way, you heard a commotion. The photographers went into a tizzy and fans that were mingled together across the street looking on screamed. It sounded like a K-pop concert instead of a fashion show. People loved fashion but they didn't get this crazy for it.

Carning your neck you tried to see what the fuss was all about and instead saw fans losing their ever-loving shit.

"Oh my god, it's Lewis Hamilton," one screamed.

You'd heard the name plenty of times but you'd never paid much attention. All you knew was he was British and did some kind of sport. You watched on as he stepped up on the carpet and posed in his all-black outfit. You watched on for a few moments curious as to what all the hype was. He was too far away for you to make out much of his features but from what you could make out, you had to admit he was attractive.

Though you felt Iyla tapping you to tell you it was time to move you couldn't. There was something about him that was so captivating. Alas, you had a performance to kill. You turned and saw Donatella approaching you with a huge smile.

"You look even better than I thought you would."

"That's kind. Thank you but I am only the vessel for this beautiful piece of art you've created."

The photographers screamed for you both to pose so they could get the shot and that is what you did for almost a full 10 minutes. No amount was good enough for them, they wanted more and more and more.

"Ah, Lewis. Come, come, come. Join us!”

You spun and found the same man from a few minutes ago approaching. His smile was wide as he looked at Donatella but when they shifted to you his smile slipped. At the sight of that for some reason, your belly sank. Did he know of you and didn't like you?

As quickly as the smile disappeared it appeared again. He embraced Donatella kissing both her cheeks as he exchanged pleasantries. You caught a whiff of a scent that couldn't be cologne. It had to be him. It was strong but not in an overpowering way. Though he didn't stand too close to you, you could catch notes of spiced wood, and rich floral undertones that smelled as if fragrant flowers had been gently smoked over a fire to unlock their deeper fragrance. He smelled good--mouthwatering even.

Donatella turned to you, "Do you know Y/N? Have you met?"

Your eyes met and instantly the feeling of familiarity washed over you.

"Uh--,” you began.

"No, I've never had the pleasure, Lewis said holding out his hand for yours.

You placed it in his palm and felt the familiarity shake you again in the form of a sharp but almost comforting jolt. Neither of you budged though.

"Are you sure? I swear I feel like I've seen..."

"Trust me if I had ever been properly introduced to you, I'd remember."

His eyes held you locked in place. There was something familiar about them but you knew you'd never met him before. He was right. You were sure you'd remember eyes like his. Lewis suddenly dropped your hand, then slipped to the other side of Donatella to take part in the photos. Then like a thief in the night he was gone. Who was that you thought to yourself.

As showtime approached, you tried to forget the strange encounter and the way your body came alive from his scent. The more you tried to forget the more you focused on it but instead of thinking of the man you'd just met you kept thinking about the one you'd been talking to for the last several months.

A notification came up, sending you to your DMs.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Ready for what exactly?

Seeing his message your belly fluttered. It truly had been a while since you'd had a reaction like this to anyone.

You: You know what. Ask me again.

30 seconds ticked by, then a minute, and the whole time you tried not to chew your lip. When another message came in, again your belly flipped.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Do you want me?

Seeing the rephrased question instantaneously brought up your anxiety. It was direct on purpose because he wanted an intentional answer. Not a possible or hypothetical one. Oh, you thought. This man was different from any other little boy you'd encountered and every fiber of your being said take a chance.

Unable to resist, you bit down on your bottom lip and chewed forgetting all about your plum-painted lips, and prepared to type your reply but before you could get a letter down Iyla called your name telling you it was showtime.

5 minutes later, you were backstage waiting for your cue. You would be the first to walk out and down the runway as if you were one of the models. You'd then take your seat and begin. You should have been nervous about it but you weren't, you were more nervous about the message you were about to send.

A few of the models gave you hugs and thumbs up for support just before the stage manager gave you a nod for you to go. Once you stepped through the threshold, you took note of just how many people were there. The creative director had done amazingly on the set and ambiance. The large pool in the center of the runway space really was a vibe. The audience instantly erupted in applause as you stuck your beginning pose for dramatic effect.

What a dream you thought as you took your first step down the sleek white platformed runway. There were plenty of little girls who dreamed of this moment and here you were living it. It had been a while since you were open enough to feel gratitude but here and now you felt it in full force. Another thing to credit the man who still hadn't revealed his name for.

As you walked you noted the plethora of celebrities that sat around the runway at their posh-looking garden tables watching every move you made. You saw singers, actors, models, and even athletes from varying fame levels. On your turn, you saw Dwayne Wade who was seated next to Lewis Hamilton. Both men gave you an appreciative and polite head nod as you passed. When you got to the end of the "U" shaped runway you stopped and the audience again applauded you.

Once you were seated behind the piano, you adjusted your microphone and got ready to get down to business. As the first chords of the piano played for the intro you fully gave yourself to the track. A few lines in and the models began walking showing off the art that had taken months to prepare.

The song you'd chosen tonight was new. It was something that had come to you since you'd begun your interactions in your DMs. It was softer than the songs from your last album which was quite heavy. The lyrics were flirtatious, the melody fun and soothing but it was still somehow all you.

20 minutes later you'd sang 4 new songs and was in the middle of a piano solo that would close out the show. When Donatella stepped out after the model precession went by, you added some flair to the solo giving Beethoven and Bach a run for their money. The audience clapped and whistled as you showcased your musical abilities, abilities that had gotten you your current fame and status. Upon the grand finale, you hit the perfect ending chords making Donatella laugh.

The two of you walked on either side of the line of models toward the center of the "U" shaped runway to meet and join hands. She gestured to you making the audience applaud and cheer. You did a dainty curtsy then motioned to Donatella and cheered loudly which promoted those around you to do the same. You stood there allowing the photographers to take pictures for a few moments. When you glanced down you realized you were standing directly in front of Lewis whose eyes were glued to you. The smile on his lips was soft and the look on his face was endearing. You wanted to ask why but you shook it off.

2 hours later after endless pictures, interviews, autographs, and tens of flirtatious men trying to either get your number, get you to give them your number, or convince you to leave with them for the night; you finally had time to yourself. You finished your glass of champagne, leaned on one of the 9-foot tall hedges, and scrolled through your phone.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Your voice is still haunting and amazingly beautiful, but your eyes are no longer sad and empty. God, you are gorgeous like this.

Smiling, you took a deep breath.

You: I want you.

You were sure of that now.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Are you sure?

You: Yes. I've spent the night having CEOs, oil tycoons, actors, models, athletes, artists, and men from every other profession you can think of flirt with me, attempt to spend the night with me, and try to create some sort of connection only to fail miserably because all I can think of is you and the fact you haven't once flirted with me or tried to convince me to spend the night with you.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: I didn't know you wanted me to.

You: I didn't either. Now I do. I want you to. I want you to do all of that.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: What if I don't want to convince you to spend the night with me? Spending the night with you is the least of what I want to do with you.

You: What do you want?

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: I want your days. I want your afternoons. I want your trust. I want your honesty. I want your vulnerability. I want your mind. I want your heart.

Once again he'd stolen your breath.

You: And what do I get in return?

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: I will give you smiles. I will give you laughter. I will give you joy. I will give you honesty. I will give you my days. I will give you my afternoons, my nights. I will give you my loyalty. I will give you trust. I will give you vulnerability. I will give you my mind, my heart, and only when you are sure you can match me I will give you my body and all the passion and fire you can stand.

Wow, you thought.

You: I'm in Cannes for a few days. I fly out the day after tomorrow. How can we meet?

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Depends. How badly do you want it?

You: I'm not thirsty or anything but a hard 9.

A voice message came through of him laughing. Then another.

"I'm glad you can hide your thirst but I won't. Not anymore. I'm at 100."

It was your turn to send a voice message of you laughing.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Glad you find my suffering funny. I'm currently in Cannes too. If you trust me enough we can meet tonight.

Your brows rose. He was in Cannes too? What a coincidence.

You: Tonight then.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Tonight.

You felt all sorts of giddy now. It overshadowed the nervousness that was trying to overtake you. Fifteen minutes later, as you left the fashion show venue, another message came through.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Vieux Port, 12. Tell this to your driver and they will know where to go.

You smiled then attached a photo of yourself from the night and sent it.

You: Me now so you don't miss me

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: Jeez. You're beautiful Y/N.

You: It is a bit unfair that I still don’t know your name.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: You'll know when you see me.

You dropped Iyla off at the hotel with an excuse of wanting to sightsee then you took the drive to the port. On the way you texted her the location you would be in case you bumped into trouble. With the window down, you relaxed into the scents of Cannes. Baked goods, salty sea air, citrus, and sand. It all smelled wonderful. You'd been here tens of times before but this was the first time you'd taken time for yourself to mellow out. You were in a completely different headspace than you were on previous trips and it felt so freeing.

15 minutes later, your driver pulled up to find 2 people, a man, and a woman, already waiting there. Your phone vibrated with a notification.

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: I sent Verona and Linus to escort you. They are waiting at the port. I promise you're safe.

Another message came with 2 pictures and vouching credentials. Sighing, you relaxed again. He had thought of everything. As you approached the two they smiled.

"Verona? Linus?"

"Yes. Ms. Y/L/N?”

"Yes."

"Wonderful. Please follow us we will take you to the vessel," Verona said.

As you walked behind them you couldn't help but wonder what vessel and how he'd pulled all this together in less than an hour. Who was he exactly? It took all of 3 minutes until Linus and Verona both stopped in front of a lavish yacht that looked like it was at least 3 stories.

"Whoa."

"Ms. Y/L/N, after you," Linus said with an outstretched arm pointing to the boarding plank ahead.

You stood there for several moments thinking about things again. Were you really going to get on this yacht with someone you’d never met before? Were you really going to be this trusting?

Blessedbeyondmeasure44: I had Verona and Linus provide your driver with the details of this yacht before he left. I've told him to give it to your manager so they know where you will be and how to contact authorities if you aren't returned safely. I’ve also asked them to check in with you every 30 minutes using a code word they choose. I don't want you afraid of me Y/N. If you are afraid I won't think anything of you turning around and we can try this another way, a more public way with your manager present. Whatever you're comfortable with.

You didn't know if it was game or not but his words calmed you. Maybe it wasn't his words and the fact that he thought ahead and provided these securities for you to feel safer. A call from Iyla came through then.

"OMG, Y/N. Wow. I have so many questions and I want all the details later but your code word is Calamari. I will call every 30 minutes."

She sounded excited and you had no idea why.

"Got it."

Just like that, she ended the call. Why was she so excited? You wondered if she knew something you didn't as you put your phone in your bag. With a breath, you crossed the plank and allowed a man dressed similarly to Linus and Verona to lift you onto the yacht.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. He is waiting on the top deck. Follow this hallway to the steps at the end and up you go," Verona instructed.

With a nod, you were off. As you walked you noted just how luxurious the yacht truly was. Did he own this? If he did he was possibly in or close to your tax bracket. You weren't sure if you should be happy about it or leery. If he was in your tax bracket it could mean he was a celebrity as well. At that thought you paused on the 4th step on the stairs.

You thought about celebs that you'd tried to get to know or date and cringed. All of them were slightly weird with quirks you couldn't handle on top of your schedule and responsibilities. A celebrity relationship took a lot and you didn't know if you could give any of it.

"You're getting ahead of yourself, Y/N."

You took a breath and continued. When you reached the top of the stairs your jaw dropped. There were candles and flowers everywhere. Slowly you looked around and realized they weren't just any flowers, they were your favorite flowers.

"Oh my god," you whispered.

With a step forward you took in your 360 view and you knew that no matter who he was you wanted to try for him. As you looked behind you, you walked backward distracted by the beauty surrounding you. He'd somehow managed all of this in under an hour. Somehow he'd filled the entire top deck with all your favorite things. Your favorite flowers were covering every surface of the floor. Your favorite scented candles were lit and their scent wafting in the air. Your favorite snacks and treats lining the railing on the left. Your favorite fruit lining the right railing.

"He's really been paying attention," you softly said.

"Of course I pay attention. You're important to me."

You stumbled to a stop but kept your back to the voice. You recognized his voice. You recognized it from your messages and even tonight. Suddenly, everything swirled in your mind as it slowly came together.

Hi, Y/N."

You took a deep breath and turned. Your jaw dropped while everything fell into place as you looked into eyes you'd seen before this moment. They were eyes you'd looking into mere hours ago.

"I'm Lewis."

He smiled and your heart skipped a beat but words escaped you. He didn't speak again, he waited with his hands clasped behind his back. He wore the same full black outfit from earlier but he looked even better in it now with the candles and flowers as his backdrop.

"I--you--oh my god. You're--”, you began.

"Blessedbeyondmeasure44? Yes, I am."

The silence stretched for a long moment before you snorted.

"Bullshit."

Lewis chortled in return then let out a chuckle.

"I've said it before but God I love that you have no censor and say the first thing that comes to your mind."

Your eyes bugged. He had said that before.

"No. You're not."

Lewis smiled and took a few more steps to you, "How can I prove it to you?"

"Prove?"

You wracked your brain trying to make sense of this and come up with a way he could make you believe this.

"What was the first thing I said to you in DMs?"

Without hesitation, Lewis spoke, "After you sent a follow request I said I didn't expect that this was how my day would end and you said me neither."

You raised a brow. "What was the last thing we did together?

"We went to the beach. You went to Crystal Cove in Laguna Beach and I went to La Concha because I was in Spain at the time. You sent me a beautiful picture of a cave and said it was one of your secret spots. It was called--.”

"Dana's Point," you finished as he proved his point.

"I can show you the messages, and our pictures including the one you sent earlier so I wouldn’t miss you. I wouldn't miss you though Y/N. You stand out no matter what."

He took another step to you leaving only a few inches between you. He reached out and took your hands.

"I have missed you though. I've missed you in so many moments that I wished you were with me, so many experiences I wished I had with you. I missed you every time a message of yours came in. I even missed you in my dreams."

You lifted your hand and cupped his cheek while staring into his eyes.

"I knew I saw those eyes before. I felt it."

Lewis smiled. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to do this in front of those cameras and the crowd. I'm sorry I wasn't 100% truthful."

You smirked.

"Your message."

Lewis cupped your cheek in return. "Your voice is still haunting and amazingly beautiful, but your eyes--," he paused then cupped your other cheek. Using his thumbs, he softly slid them across your cheekbones. "Your eyes are no longer sad and empty. God, you are gorgeous like this."

Tears welled your eyes and you scoffed.

"Now you flirt with me."

A chuckle fell from his lips and if you hadn't fallen for him before you definitely had now. You hung your head and shook it.

"I am so stupid. This whole time."

"You're not."

"You're Lewis Hamilton. I am sure any other woman would have recognized those eyes. I had no clue. Hell, I don’t know the first thing about you, not really. Yeah, you're a racer but other than that..." you shrugged.

Lewis lifted your head his hands now cupping your skull. It put you on high alert at just how large his hands were. "Hey, love that you had no clue. I love that you don't know me. It was refreshing. I loved these last few months of you knowing me and me knowing you without the extra stuff."

"We know the extra stuff now. Oh my god, from the ruckus on the carpet of the Versace show you're a huge celebrity. How in the world---."

Before you could continue your freak-out Lewis' lips were on yours. It was like you’d stuck your finger in an electrical socket. Your entire body came to life as if his touch was life itself. His soft lips slowly pressed against yours before he opened them enough to take your top lip between his. From there all thought escaped you.

When one of his hands slipped around your waist you moaned unexpectedly. Where had that come from? Your body had no trouble following along. You pressed yourself closer to him relishing the tingles that skirted across your lips and everywhere he touched. Just as you were going to sink your fingers into his braids, Lewis pulled away keeping his forehead to yours.

"Do you want me?"

His voice was low and deep and it wrapped around you pulling you closer to him.

"I-I don’t see how I can have you."

Again Lewis kissed you. This time he delved his tongue into your mouth wrapping it around yours, teasing you to open more for him. When you did it was because you moaned. He took advantage of that opening and kissed you in a way that said he was not letting you go. His moan melded with yours and you felt his other hand tighten as he held your skull. Tearing his lips away, he panted as harshly as you were.

"Do you--want--me? Because I want you Y/N. I want you even knowing the obstacles in our way. I want you more than I have wanted anything in a long time. I want you in ways that surprise me and make me year all at once. I'm not saying this will be a walk through the park. I'm saying I want to walk together with you from this night on. Do you want me too?"

He had to be kidding. Who in their right mind would say no after that? You snorted then laced your fingers together behind his neck thrusting yourself flush against him.

"I want you more than anything. I want you in my life. I want to really run with you though I hate it. I want to go to beaches together and have movie nights truly together. I want to see the same sunrise and sunsets you see. I want to touch your skin like this whenever I want instead of thinking about it. I want to smell you every day. Yes, Lewis. I want you too."

The look in his eyes held you in place as did the tightness of his arms that were now wrapped around your waist holding you possessively against him.

"I can't wait to give you the world Y/N," Lewis said in such a way you knew he meant every word.

"I don't need the world, nor do I want it. I just want you."

His smile was the cutest thing and you knew you'd never get tired of it.

"You have me. Next up...the world."

You smiled then giggled when he lifted you in the air and spun you around. You laughed louder loving the way the sound came from the very depths of you and how authentic it felt. When he put you down you were at the railing looking out to the ocean.

"Started from a DM now we here," Lewis said making you snort.

"Started from a DM soon the whole world will fuckin hear bout it."

Lewis threw his hands up.

"Ayyyy!”

You laughed loudly and soon he joined in. When he wrapped his arms around you again he gazed into your eyes but said no words. Slowly both of you moved closer until your lips softly touched. Neither of you moved. You took the time to savor the feel of your skin connecting in a way your minds and souls already had. A way that he had retaught you, a way that he so patiently and diligently worked for and it all started when he messaged your heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton drabble #message my heart one shot

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antis0cial23 · 5 months

Text

The Pride of the Navy

Chapter 6: Familial Ties

Summary: going home has its ups… and its downs

Warnings: Mentions of deteriorating health, swearing

Maverick sat at the bar, cool beer in hand. Some aviators chittered around him, back by the pool table, some by the dart boards Penny kept having to replace, and some just scattered throughout. His phone was cool in his hands, not being used and most certainly not on Penny’s bar top, never in a million years would he forget about that, nor would his savings recover.

“Long day, pilot?” Penny asked, already knowing what happened during todays class. Maverick gave her a tired look, all telling. “Word travels fast in the Navy, Mav.” She offered him a smile, then got back to tending to her patrons at the bar. Maverick’s phone buzzed, the screen lighting his palm. After a sigh and some contemplation, he looked at the glowing screen. Lo and behold, it was none other than Admiral Kazansky, or outside of work, Ice.

‘I need to see you.’ Of course he did. After the burnout today during training, what higher up wouldn’t want to see him.

‘Not a good time.’ Because of-fucking-course it wasn’t. All Maverick, in his self-proclaimed old-age-but-let’s-not-act-like-it, wanted to do was go home and sleep like the old man he kept getting told he was.

‘I wasn’t asking.’ One thing Maverick had learned in his lifetime, is that Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky was absolute shit at asking people nicely. Maybe that’s why he had climbed the ranks of the Navy as quickly as he did, but boy did it get beyond annoying. Maverick wanted to slam his head on the bar top, but he had a feeling if he did so it would be against one of Penny’s not explicitly written rules, and he did not want to risk spending his savings on Navy-men’s beer. Again. So, it looked like he would have to make the nearly three hour drive to Ice’s abode. His phone dinged again, so he looked at it with a sigh full of annoyance, but it wasn’t Admiral Kazansky, it was Quinlan.

‘Srry 2 bother, u heard anythn frm Roo’ The way kids typed always confused Maverick, full words were not that difficult.

‘Im driving, don judge me, I can feel the old mn judgmnt frm hre’ Adding to his annoyance, Quinn was texting while driving. ‘Oh joy, how did one of the pilots under your supervision die? Not mission related? Crazy.’ Maverick could already see the headline. To keep her off her phone, Mav decided to call.

“Sup, Mav.” Quin tried to sound less tired than she felt, not wanting her mentor to know the real strain the training was having on everyone, or more so not wanting him to ask her about it.

“Cas, don’t text and drive.” Mav sighed, “So you think calling me, when I drive a 1972 Impala, is any better?” The sarcasm her voice held was immense.

“Just keep your eyes on the road.” Maverick put his hand on his head, slightly massaging his temples. These kids were going to be the death of him. “Why do you think Bradley would talk to me, Casper.” By now, Maverick had made his way to the back deck of the bar, everything less loud, also leaving money on the bar for Penny.

“Long-shot guess to see if he’s contacted anyone… Mav he isn’t home and isn’t returning anyone’s calls.” She had a worried edge to her voice, which Mav completely understood because he had felt just like she sounded.

“So you text me, because you are worried?” He honestly felt a little bit of joy, knowing at least one of the aviators he taught didn’t hate him in totality after today.

“Shut up.” Quinlan grumbled, barely audible over the noise from her driving and from the bar behind Maverick.

“If I hear anything, I’ll let you know, kid. Where are you even driving to at…” He looked at the time, his phone displaying 9:47 shining in pale bolded numbers. “Jesus, at nine forty at night.”

“Headed home to see some family…” Quin was never very forthcoming with personal information, but this was indeed a start. At least to Maverick it was. “Thanks for the day off, Mav.” And with that, Quin hung up and continued her drive.

She was about two and a half hours in, about thirty minutes to go, and Quinlan couldn’t be more ready to get out of her car. The rumbling of the old engine was making her hands numb, all her muscles already sore and tense from training. The drive to Santa Monica was one she had only ever made with Emmelyn. Although Quin and Emmelyn didn’t share the same dad, Quin’s always treated Emmelyn as his, well, that being after he found out about Quin. A DNA test right before entering the Navy found Quinlan’s still very alive dad, contrary to what her mother had told her.

“Did ya get the results yet?” Emmelyn called through the kitchen. Quin, not knowing much about her lineage, or anything about her father for that matter, had decided to complete a DNA test that included health risks along with the family tree. Every time she had brought it up to her mom, she got told no, but now she was eighteen and had her own money from working at the local supply store.

“Just came in the mail, Em. Where’s momma?” Quinlan did buy the kit with her mother’s knowledge, but she still felt guilty opening her results if she were home.

“She’s out at the Cody’s. Think Diane invited her.” Quin nodded, if her mom was at Diane’s house, she’d most certainly be gone for a while. Oh, how mothers could talk.

Quinlan peeled open the envelope, Emmelyn over her shoulder the whole time. First on the paper was the list of genetically predisposed illnesses and her likelihood of getting them. Mostly everything Quin was low risk for, thankfully. Further down was her mothers relatives, which she slightly knew, at least by name, each having a ‘living’ or ‘deceased’ label next to them. And on the back? Her father. Looking down the list from double great grandparents and down, apparently her grandfather was alive. Quinlan paused, eyes hovering over the name of her father. She had known his first name, one night when her mom had a little too much Rye Whiskey and slipped up, but never his last. Next to his name was the label ‘Living’.

“Wait, didn’t momma say Daddy died?” Quin took a minute to respond, Emmelyn still hovering as closely as ever, unsure of the true weight of her statement. “Yeah, she did.” Quin read the name at least five times. Well this was going to be a fun conversation.

And that was the first time Quinlan learned her father was actually living and breathing. The following conversation with her mother, while her mother was unfortunately a bit tipsy on whiskey, went just as well as one would’ve hoped, full of tears and misspoken words. That fight, words never being able to be taken back, is was led Quin to reach out to her dad. Maybe he didn’t know about her beforehand and was slow to warm up, but Quin was beyond glad she had found him.

“Uh… Hi. My name is, uh, is Quinlan Emai. I received some results from a DNA test, and it uh, it told me you’re my dad? Shit, this is so weird. Jesus this could have been an email, I’m one of those people. Um, I don’t really know what the fuck else to say, soo… Call me back when you get a chance? Maybe? Jesus- sorry” After that voicemail to one Navy man, Quin honestly thought about throwing herself off a bridge. This guy was stationed in Cali, Quin living in a small Texan town near the coast. She was hoping, at the least, the man would not return her call. But alas, a few days later, a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” Quinn held her phone, expecting whoever called to be spam.

“Hi, this is Tom Kazansky…” Quinlan froze at the name, “You, uh, you called about a week ago?” “Oh, shit. Uh, hi?” Quin responded after a moment of phone static. Both sat in silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say.

“Fuck, sorry. You’re probably wondering who my mom is. She’s uh, her name is Cecilla Emai. We’re, um, We’re in Texas.” Another few moments of silence followed, Quin could hear the gears in his head turning.

“Oh, beginning of ‘86?” Quin assumed that was when they met. “Well, would make sense. Was born October 1986.” Quinlan honestly didn’t want to talk about her conception date.

“I… wow. Sorry, I uh didn’t expect to have a kid.” Quin chuckled,

“Yeah, and I didn’t expect to have an alive dad. Momma always said you were dead.” A small noise of surprise escaped Tom.

“She told you I was dead?” the surprise was as clear as day.

“yeah, said you died so I shouldn’t go lookin’. Guess she was ashamed to have a kid without a dad so she told everyone he was dead.”

“She never even tried to tell me, if she told me…” Tom trailed off, “You’re in the Navy, and I don’t think there is anything that would get momma to leave.” Quinlan did truly wonder what life would be like if her dad was around.

“I at least would’ve given her money… How is she?” Quin gave a disappointed laugh, “usually drunk or not at home. Two kids take a toll, especially when the father of the second is a known felon.” At that, Tom Kazansky was officially speechless.

“Hey, I guess wanting to be a pilot runs in the blood. I just got my naval academy acceptance letter…” Quin trailed off, not knowing why she was telling a man she just honestly met.

“What’re you going in for?” A new form of excitement filled his tone.

“Pilot. Air Force wouldn’t accept the condition of me being my sister’s caretaker.” They proceeded to talk for at least thirty minutes about Tom’s declassified missions and tips from him.

“Who’re you runnin’ up that phone bill with, Q.” Cecilla asked, more of a way as telling her to get off the phone.

“Take a wild, guess momma.” Quin’s voice was edging towards sharp, her mom narrowing her eyes. “Who is it?” Cecilla’s tone matched Quinlan’s.

“My dad. Would you like to say hi? Since, ya know, he isn’t dead.” Quin still held fire from their earlier argument, Tom sat on the other line awkward and unsure of what to do.

“Quinlan Daliah Emai, get off the damn phone right now.” Cecilla’s tone was final, but Quin always had a rebuttal. Afterall, she was the daughter of a stubborn Texan and The famous Iceman.

“You haven’t paid the phone bill since you spent all the cash you got, which wasn’t hardly any, on liquor. Can’t tell me to end a phone call when I pay the price.” Quin sounded nonchalant, her voice matter of fact. Her mother only stared, Tom Kazansky awkwardly trying to find an out from the call.

“If you don’t hang up that damn phone, I will find a way to pull your application.” Cecilla’s voice held the same calmness, which Tom could only guess was terrifying in person.

“If you weren’t so drunk off your ass, Ma, you would know I’ve already been accepted. Now if you’d excuse me, I have a previously absentee father to get to know.” Quinlan shut the pocket door to the kitchen, done with the soon to be argument with her mother.

“I… is that, is that normal?” Tom’s voice sounded incredibly unsure, unaware if that was even appropriate to ask.

“The truth? Yeah. As song as Em isn’t home.” Quinlan did everything in her power to not fight in front of her little sister, even if her mother provoked the living hell out of her.

“I assume Em is your sister?” Tom questioned lightly, gently.

“Yeah, her name is Emmelyn Rose Emai. Momma has a thing for flower middle names. She is eight. Thinks we have the same Dad.” Quin’s tone edged towards sadness at the last statement, wishing Em was her full-blood sister, but she still treated the kid with every intent that she was.

“Well… I would say I’m slightly better than a convicted felon.” Tom huffed a laugh, and so did Quin, “Honestly, I’d love to get to know you more, and Emmelyn for the matter, she’s young enough to still have a childhood with a Dad.” To say the least, Quin was shocked. She expected him to either say nothing, or say hello and move on, but she certainly wasn’t ready for this.

“Shit, you’re serious?” She was dumbfounded.

“I mean if you are open to that. In my family, we take kin very seriously. I’ve missed eighteen years, why should I miss any more?” Tom sounded very sure, which calmed Quin’s mind a little bit.

“Quinlan Emai, I’ve given you five minutes, now get off the damn phone and go get your sister.” Cecilla’s voice yelled through the shut door, muffled and barely recognizable over the phone.

“Fuck, uh sorry, I have to go get Em, mom’s had too much to drive. Bye!” Quin quickly hung up, ending her first ever conversation with her very much alive father.

As far as first meetings go, Quin’s very much could’ve gone better. But, it led to having a relationship with her Dad, and Emmelyn having one too. That phone call turned into summer visits, and a place to stay for them both once their mother passed two years later. Quin pulled up to the personal housing of Admiral Tom “Iceman” Kazansky, the place she called home even despite her rural accent. She turned off the trembling engine, hands finally free of the incessant buzzing sensation. Quin decided to park around the back of the house, opting to surprise her siblings in the morning, having seen their cars in the driveway. Quin got out of her car, grabbing her back up travel bag from her trunk as quietly as possible.

She walked up to the back door, unlocking it with her spare key she kept on her keychain escribed with her callsign. A gift from Rooster, no less. She had texted Ice previous to her arrival, not wanting to scare him by showing up at random. The light shown through the door of his office, surprising Quin that he was still awake. At 61, being awake after 9:30 was definitely a large feat. She padded lightly to the office, knocking on the door lightly before stepping in.

“Hey, Dad.” He turned his head at her voice, meeting her soft, but nonetheless tired, smile. He returned it with his own, although not quite reaching his eyes like it did just a few years before. Ice was bad about voicing his problems, something Quin learned was hereditary and compounded from his years in the Navy. They stared at each other for a few minutes, then she realized he wasn’t speaking, the white cursor on his monitor blinking as the black screen remained bare.

“Fuck.” Quin’s whispered curse was the only sound in the air. Ice turned to type and with her increasingly watery eyes, quin watched the screen.

‘I’m fine, you have other things to worry about.’ The white words stared back like little knives picking her tear ducts.

“You say that as you are, quite literally, my dad.” Quin huffed a laugh, although pained by the fact of his health.

‘Come sit.’ Quin pulled up a chair, facing him as he cleared his screen.

‘How’s Bradley.’ Quin just looked down at her clasped hands, shaking her head.

“Haven’t heard from him since before I left. Didn’t even see him after Seresin outed his death wish.” Quin looked up from her hands, Ice looking at her expectantly. He knew the hurt and the issues they had faced, firsthand for that matter, but he also knew she miraculously still cared.

‘Just talk to him.’ Ice kept the same stare. “Really Dad, how am I supposed to talk to someone who doesn’t acknowledge my existence?” Her face was tired, not wanting to have that conversation at the current moment in time. Ice didn’t type anything new, nor did he delete his previous words. A low cough left his being, hurting Quin to hear.

“Go to bed, kid.” His voice was gravel-filled and quiet, displaying his pain. Quin looked at him for a few more moments before standing up and leaving his office, but not before throwing in a small ‘goodnight’. As she made her way up to her bedroom, quietly passing her siblings rooms, she couldn’t wait to lay down and knock out. The days problems would just have to wait till tomorrow.

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padfootagain · 1 year

Text

The King and You (XVI)

Part XVI : The wardrobe

Hi everyone! Here I come with a new chapter for my Caspian fic!

I hope you like this chapter, it’s a little emotional but still sweet. We are also coming closer to the end, so… lots of things happening here! Tell me what you think of it!

****

Pairing: Caspian x reader

Warning: … a little sad?

Sum up: Somehow, Caspian stumbles out of Narnia and into your world. He’s utterly lost and has no idea how to get out of this world filled with scary toasters, strange carriages and a woman who literally knocks him off of his feet. But does he really want to find a way back?

Word count: 4784

It took you a few days to track down the position of the cottage that had once been owned by Digory Kirke.

It was Caspian’s first time on a train, and he liked it. So far, it was the most reassuring mean of transportation he had discovered in your world. It was fast, and yet, he felt safe.

Roger and Agatha were sharing whispers and giggles, like two teenagers in love. You didn’t fail to notice the way they were holding hands, sitting next to each other in the compartment.

You ate sandwiches and laughter for lunch, and for a while, the adventure that was your trip to the country side was enough for all of you to forget why you were heading there.

The new owners of the cottage had turned it into an Airbnb, which made everything simple. You would all stay at the cottage, which would give you time to explore the place, and especially the attic. Despite the fact that the cottage had changed owners several times, you were hoping that you could find some clues about Narnia there. Besides, you found no relatives to Digory Kirke left alive; this place where he had once lived seemed to be your only chance.

The cottage was on the outskirts of a small village, with a garden filled with heather, a bench and a tall apple tree. A stonewall encircled the property, and you smiled at the sight of the ancient house, made a little crooked by the years. The walls were of stone, the roof of grey tiles with moss covering the left part of it, the door was painted in a bright red shade. It felt welcoming, warm.

“It’s lovely, don’t you think?” Agatha asked Roger, while you struggled to open the little wooden gate to get into the garden.

“It is indeed. Charming, I would say,” the old gangster answered, tightening his hold on Agatha’s hand.

The inside of the cottage was pretty charming as well. It felt old despite the new kitchen counter and the large tv screen. There was a hearth and a warm carpet under a large sofa and an old armchair. A wooden table. A large library filled with old books with leathery covers. Upstairs, there were two bedrooms, one for Agatha and Roger, and one for Caspian and you.

You decided to get some rest that evening, and to explore the attic the next morning. There was no real rush, or at least, you didn’t want to be in a rush. Delaying meant spending one more evening with Caspian.

You had started doubting it all again, perhaps because you had never been fully convinced in the first place, perhaps because the closer Caspian got to leaving, the less you wanted it all to be real. You hated yourself for it. For wanting him to stay. It was selfish, yet, you kept on hoping…

You had offered to prepare some tea, but you didn’t notice when the kettle started to sing. You didn’t notice the sharp whistling sound, or Agatha calling for you, or the rain that had started to fall outside. Instead, you were lost in thought.

What if you left?

Ever since that afternoon at the National Gallery, the question tortured you. Caspian couldn’t stay, but what if you left with him? It sounded crazy, to leave it all behind. He had been clear about the fact that you wouldn’t be able to come back, ever again, to your world. How could you do that? It was crazy. To even think about abandoning your entire life, your friends, your family, just to follow a guy you had met only a month ago? That was outrageously crazy of you. Irresponsible. Stupid even. Completely and utterly reckless.

And yet, you hesitated still.

Because despite how crazy this whole story was, Caspian was real. What you felt for him was real. And you didn’t want it to end just yet…

But if you knew that he deeply cared about you, if you knew that Caspian had feelings for you, you were still unsure of their depth. He had never said I love you. He had implied it several times, but the words had never passed his lips. What did it mean? Did it mean that his feelings, though earnest, were not strong enough to be called love for now?

You were only brought back to earth when Roger walked into the kitchen, got the kettle and started pouring the boiling water into the cups. You were almost startled when he spoke.

“You seem very much worried, young lady.”

“Oh… I’m just tired, that’s all,” you lied.

Roger chuckled, shaking his head.

“Ha, this good old lie. I’m too old to fall for it. Why don’t you tell me what’s troubling you?”

He gave you some time to speak, but you remained silent. Upstairs, Caspian had set your suitcase next to the bed, and Agatha was unpacking her things.

“Is it about the boy leaving?”

You nodded.

“What did Agatha tell you about that?” you asked, unwilling to reveal too much about Narnia.

“Not that much, to be honest. Only that we needed to help this boy go home. And that he would have to go on his own.”

“Yeah… he’s going to leave soon. If all goes to plan, at least.”

“And there is no way for him to stay?”

You shook your head.

“There are people there… who depend on him. He can’t stay.”

“Then… why can’t you go?”

You shrugged, looking down at the floor.

“How could I leave my life, everything I’ve built… for a man I’ve met a mere month ago?”

“Do you not love him?”

“I do.”

“Then… it is merely a game of balance. You need to weigh your two options: do you love more the life you have here, or the life you could have with him?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure… leaving… it sounds crazy!”

But Roger gave you a sad smile.

“You know… I was about your age when I met Agatha. Prettiest girl I had ever seen,” he went on with a dreamy smile, but his expression was tainted with melancholia. “I was in love with her by the end of that day we spent together in Central Park. Madly in love with her. Had met her only three days before but… there was something about her I… I just knew. I knew she was it.”

He put away the kettle, watched in his mug as the tea leaves were tainted the water with a brownish, almost-red shade.

“But then… I was young, and mostly stupid. I was involved in some heavy stuff, the kind you can’t get out of. I was offered to go to Chicago for some time. Let’s call it ‘business’, although I’m sure you know that wasn’t all that there was there. I had to choose. And Agatha and I… we had been together for only a couple of months. It was dangerous to take her with me, and I knew it. When I told her about it, she said she would wait for me to come back. I told her not to. I went away. We didn’t stay in touch. When I came back ten years later, she was married with two kids.”

He looked at you again, withheld tears shining in his eyes.

“I have never regretted a decision in my life more than I regret this one. More than I regret letting her go so easily. I could have made it work. I could have dropped it, I could have found a way out. It wasn’t too late yet, I was involved, but I had many friends, and they would have allowed me to lead a normal life, under some conditions. I could have had it all. But the truth is, I wanted to go to Chicago. I wanted to get that money, I wanted to be someone important. If I had stopped for a minute, and truly thought about it… if I had truly weighed my options, I’m not sure I would have made the same choice.”

He rested a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“It’s your decision to take. But if you take the wrong one, you’ll have to own it. You’ll have to live with its weigh for the rest of your life. So… be careful. We only have one life, we can’t afford to waste it away.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have the strength to do so. Roger grabbed his mug of tea and Agatha’s and disappeared as quietly as he had come into the kitchen.

He didn’t notice Caspian hiding in the corridor.

********************************

It was barely midnight when you all went to bed. A long day would await with a new sunrise, and you reckoned that you were already going to bed way too late.

You took a shower, took your time to get ready for bed. You lied down there, under the safety of the heavy blankets, waiting for Caspian to be ready to bid you goodnight. He had slept by your side twice, after visiting the cemetery, but after that he had kept on leaving you alone at night. You guessed the intimacy of it was a little too much for him, and you got that. You had no doubts that he would still come to your bedroom to bid you goodnight, though. Drop a sweet kiss on your lips. Check that the covers kept you warm. Turn off the lights. And leave you to get lost in dreams that were always about him.

But this time, he didn’t. This time, when he walked in your room, already in a pair of red pyjamas, he stood by the bed, on the opposite side. You looked at him with a frown, and noticed that he was blushing.

“Can I… Can I stay with you tonight? I… I do not want to be alone.”

You gave him a warm smile, nodding in silence and pulling the covers to welcome him inside the bed. He smiled back, before lying by your side, the mattress caving under his weight. It was reassuring, to feel him there, by your side.

He reached for your hand.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I… I did not want to be alone.”

“Are you okay? Is everything alright?”

He nodded, but he was a terrible liar. You insisted, and he turned to lie on his side so he would be facing you instead of the ceiling. You did the same. There was no light in the room but the faint silvery glow of the moon slipping in through the curtains, and the small lamp alit on your nightstand that painted the room in a yellowish glow. You gave him an encouraging smile, running your thumb across his knuckles in a soothing touch.

It made his heart swell, the sight of you like this. In your pyjamas, lying in bed, your hair already messy and a tender smile on your lips. Your fingers intertwined with his. The sound of your breathing filling up the room.

He reached up to brush his fingertips across your cheek.

“I know it will sound strange but… I feel… like I’m running out of time.”

He could hear it, your breathing stopping. A sharp intake of breath, and then nothing for a few seconds. You tried to smile, but the gesture remained quite sad.

“I do not mean to make you… feel bad or… I just… I feel like something is pulling me away,” he went on. “The same kind of feeling I felt that day in the forest when I left Narnia. Like I should get going. Like I should… Like I must go somewhere else. I do not know how to explain this. It is a strange feeling. Still… I do not want to be alone tonight. I want… I want to be with you, as much as I can.”

You nodded, failing at hiding the tears that glimmered at the corner of your eyes. Slowly, you moved to hold him tightly against you, and he wrapped his arms around your frame as well.

He breathed the sweet scent of your shampoo. Vanilla and apples and sunrises…

“Caspian… can you promise me something? Actually… actually two things…”

“Anything you want.”

“When you’re gone… I know it’s very selfish but… please, don’t forget about me. I… I don’t want you to forget about me. Ever. And I know it’s selfish, because… you’ll need to marry someone else, and I hope you find love and happiness but… but I know that I won’t forget about you. Ever. So don’t. Actually… I have something for you. Thought about giving it to you right before you would go but as you’re having this weird feeling…”

You pulled away to reach inside the drawer of your bedside table. There was a small packet there, closed with a purple ribbon. You offered it to Caspian in a slightly trembling hand, a shy expression on your features.

“I… I have no money. I do not have any gift for you,” Caspian mumbled, but you merely laughed at him.

“Take the goddamn gift, or I’ll give it to Roger.”

It was enough to make him laugh again.

“Do I have some competition?”

“You have no idea. Have you tasted his apple pie the other day at Agatha’s? That man owns my heart.”

Caspian chuckled, accepting your gift. You were shier again as he unfastened the ribbon, unfolded the fabric. He grinned at the sight of the necklace you had bought for him; the medallion hanging at the silver chain had the form of a ship.

“You said… you said you loved the sea. I thought it could make a token of good fortune. And then, maybe… it would help you remember me. I mean…”

But you were shushed by a warm pair of lips pressed against yours. You melted into Caspian’s arms again, holding tightly on his pyjama shirt. When he pulled away, both of you breathless, he brushed tenderly his nose against yours, making you giggle.

He took another close look at the jewel before putting it on.

“I love it. Thank you, so much… I will take it as a token of luck, indeed. But, Y/N… you did not need to buy me a present for me to remember you.”

He slowly shook his head, a tender glint in his eyes, even though he couldn’t hide that he found you rather silly at that moment.

“How can you imagine for even a second that I could ever forget you, Y/N?”

He ran his hand through your hair, pushing the strands back to look at you, to memorize your features, to make sure he would remember every detail, from the exact colour of your eyes, to the form of your lips…

“I will never forget you, my love. How could I ever forget anything about you at all?”

It was your time to kiss him tenderly, until he pulled away to ask you what was this other promise he had to make for you. He saw you biting on your lower lip, hesitate, but you shook your head. Now wasn’t the time. Now, the night was warm and felt safe. You were happy. You didn’t want to ask him about Narnia, about him leaving. You took his face in your hands to pull him back to you, to feel his lips against yours once more.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. That’s enough promises for one day.”

He nodded, not willing to argue with you. Not tonight. Not now. Not when he held you so close to him he could feel your heart beating against his. Matching rhythms…

You saw him clenching his jaw. You heard his breathing quicken. You saw his fingers shaking slightly when he raised his hand to caress your upper arm. His eyes had darkened.

You narrowed your eyes at him, but he didn’t notice. He was staring at your lips instead of your eyes.

When he kissed you again, there was something more there. Something more passionate. Something that made you moan into his mouth, that made you press yourself against him harder, that made your hands fly up to his hair...

You were both breathless when you pulled away. You stared at him for a moment. He started to blush, but he didn’t pull away, didn’t let go of you.

“Would you be offended if I said that I…”

He interrupted himself, looking for the right words. But he couldn’t think straight anymore.

He wanted you too much for that…

“Would you be offended if I told you that I don’t want to sleep right now?”

You couldn’t refrain the chuckle that escaped your throat.

“Offended? No. No, I’m not offended. Especially when you say it in such an elegant way.”

“Do I?”

“But I thought it was not your way. I mean… in your world. The whole… having sex before getting married and all that?”

He blushed fiercely, but he didn’t back down.

“It is not our way, no.”

“But?”

“But we are not in Narnia. And I want you. Terribly so. Unbearably so.”

You struggled to swallow, feeling electricity running across your body, through every one of your nerves and muscles and bones…

“I don’t want you to regret that,” you managed to warn him despite your shaking voice.

He offered you a reassuring smile.

“Trust me… I will not regret this. I want to do it. I want to do it with you before I…”

He didn’t have the strength to finish his sentence. You didn’t need him to.

“Would you… What do you want?” he asked in a shaky voice.

But when you slowly approached your lips of his, he couldn’t help but close his eyes and tighten his hold on you.

“I… have been wanting to do this for a while now. I want you, Caspian. Terribly so. Unbearably so.”

He let a smile form on his lips before closing the gap between your mouths.

You would have needed a lot of sleep, considering the busy day ahead.

But you barely slept at all…

********************************************

The attic was full of dust and spiders.

The little lightbulb that hung there barely shed any light, you needed to bring your phones to see what was in there. Lots of boxes, a couple of wooden chests. You reckoned that you would have more chances to find something in one of these.

By your side, Caspian pushed away from his face a couple of cobwebs.

“Charming place,” he commented.

Behind him, Agatha sneezed because of the dust.

“It’ll take a while to go through all these,” Roger said, looking around to evaluate the amount of work to be done.

“We don’t really have any other option. We should get to work.”

Caspian nodded, picked up a random box and opened it, rummaging through whatever was inside. Soon, all of you were hard at work.

But all you could find were old papers, ragdolls, toys, pictures… all that belonged to owners of the cottage that lived there long after Digory Kirke had died.

By the end of the afternoon, you heaved a defeated sigh.

“I’ll take a break,” you announced, longing for some fresh air.

You were not surprised when Caspian followed you down the ladder, down the stairs, and into the garden.

None of you spoke until you were sitting on the wooden bench. The air was chilly, you had taken your coats to walk outside. You rested your head on his shoulder the second Caspian was seated by your side, and it made him chuckle fondly.

“I’m not sure we’re going to find anything here,” you said after a few minutes.

But Caspian didn’t answer. Instead, he wrapped his arm around you, bringing you closer to him. He dropped sweet kisses on your temple and in your hair. You closed your eyes, enjoying this peaceful moment. There was no sound emanating from human lives. No car, no shouts, no voices. Only the wind blowing in the naked branches of the apple tree under which you were seated. Only the few birds chirping now and then. And above all that, Caspian’s hand on your waist, the rhythm of his chest falling and rising as he breathed, his scent warm and comforting, familiar, mingled with the perfume of wet grass and heather beginning to bloom.

You could have lived like this, in this moment, forever…

“I heard you talking with Roger yesterday evening.”

You looked up at him, knowing perfectly well what he was talking about, what conversation he was referring to.

“You are still hesitating, are you not?” he added.

You nodded.

“I’m… weighing my options, like Roger said I should.”

He nodded, a look of deep hurt on his features.

“I… have promised you never to take a decision in your stead ever again, and I will not do so. But… I can tell you what I think you should do. And I think you should stay.”

He shook his head, staring at you. Staring at your eyes that he adored and seemed to capture his soul every time. Even more so since the previous night, he reckoned…

He could feel your lips on his again, your hands holding on his shoulders, your breath mingling with his so you would inhale the same air, your voice whispering his name…

He had to look away to focus once more on the present.

“You would not want me to come?” you asked him, voice fragile and shaking.

“Of course, I want you to come. I want to be with you, more than anything. But I can’t ask you to throw away your entire life, everything you’ve built here…”

“I don’t have that much though. Here, I mean. A few friends, no family… My apartment, painting… I could have all that with you as well.”

“It is your decision to take. But I think that… you would regret it if you came with me.”

You remained silent for a moment, lost in thought. You remembered this promise you wanted to ask from him the previous night, and reckoned it was time to talk about it with him.

“Can I ask you to promise me something?” you asked after a long silence.

“The same vow you wanted me to take last night? Of course, you can.”

You looked for the right way to say this, worried you would offend him. But the stakes were too high, you had to take the risk…

“Caspian… promise me that this story about Narnia is true.”

You saw him clenching his jaw for a second, because of the glint of pain that passed through his dark eyes, but also because of the flash of anger that appeared there. It shone only for a moment though, igniting his gaze for a mere second, before he would relax and look at you tenderly again.

It wasn’t your fault. You had no proof that he was telling the truth, it was a lot to take in. He couldn’t be mad about you doubting it all.

“I promise. It is the truth. You know everything.”

“You really are a King there?”

“Yes, I really am King.”

You nodded slowly, looking down at your feet.

“So… if I left with you… would you marry that woman you said would allow you to make a good alliance?”

“Of course not. I would marry you.”

“Even if it’s not the best for your people?”

“I would marry you.”

“So… I would be Queen?”

“Yes, you would be.”

“That’s… a lot of responsibilities, right? You… you’re not free to do what you want to, right?”

“It is a lot of responsibilities, yes. You would…lead Narnia with me. By my side. You would have many duties. Narnia would have to come first, always.”

You nodded slowly, taking it all in.

“Would I be able to paint still?”

Caspian gave you a tender smile.

“Of course. During your free time, you could keep on painting. You could do anything you want.”

“Do you have a lot of free time as a king?”

“Not that much, I’m afraid. Still… you could paint. Less so than you do now, though.”

Again, you nodded slowly.

And the truth was, you weren’t sure if you could do this. Be a Queen… you didn’t know how to be that. You were a painter. You were a mess, most of the time. How could you lead an entire people, a people you knew nothing about, when you were a mess yourself?

Caspian seemed to guess your thoughts, and his smile turned sad.

“I would help you at the beginning. I would guide you through it. I would be here for you. But I am not going to pretend that leading a people is easy. I will not pretend that my world is not entirely different from yours. That we do not live in castles and fight with swords and travel on horseback when you… you walked on the moon.”

He shook his head, tears glistening in his eyes while he looked up at the grey sky in an attempt to withhold them.

“Your life would be turned upside-down. Everything would change. Would you really do that just to be with me?”

“I love you,” you argued.

You realized then… it was the first time you spoke so plainly these words. Caspian gave you a tender smile, but he didn’t say it back, even if you wondered whether or not the gleam in his eyes revealed his true feelings for you. Still... it hurt that he didn't say it back.

“But love is not always enough, is it?”

You thought about his words while you rested your head against his shoulder again. He took your hand in yours, gave it a tender squeeze before intertwining your fingers together.

You wondered… could love be enough?

********************************

You found nothing that day in the attic. Caspian was surprisingly calm about it. When you asked him why, he answered with a shrug.

“I know we are at the right place. We merely need to find what is hidden here.”

You didn’t answer, didn’t contradict him, didn’t ask him how he could know. You knew that you would not fully understand, and you trusted him. Even though, deep inside, you hoped he was wrong.

You enjoyed a merry meal in the cottage. Roger had been cooking, and it was delicious. After a long time spent talking together, the two couples went their separate ways for the rest of the evening. You decided to go to bed early, to relax with a book (or rather some cuddles with Caspian but you pretended that you wanted to read in front of your friends) while Roger and Agatha lingered downstairs to watch TV. You thus got ready for bed, and then waited for Caspian while he was taking a shower, reading your book although you were unable to focus on the words written on the page while you impatiently thought about Caspian’s arms around you.

You didn’t notice the sound of the bathroom door opening once he had finished showering. You didn’t notice the sound of his naked feet walking across the floorboard. You didn’t notice when his footsteps stopped, when he froze in the middle of the small corridor. You didn’t notice when he looked inside Roger’s and Agatha’s bedroom with a strange fascination. You didn’t hear the thud of his dirty clothes falling onto the floor. You didn’t hear him walk inside the room, transfixed, staring…

He was staring at a wardrobe.

An old, wooden wardrobe with intricate carvings all over the surface. Strange creatures represented in the tender material. Caspian could barely breathe.

There was something about this wardrobe… something… something magnetic. Something that pulled him in.

When he rested his fingers on the doorknob, he was shaking.

He opened the door. A gush of wind blew out of the wardrobe, pushing in the room a few skeleton leaves that bumped into Caspian’s feet.

He took a deep breath. It smelled of… a distant fire. Trees. The strong smell of pine trees. Damp earth. And something sweet. Something… indescribable and yet familiar. A scent he would have recognized anywhere, even though he had never paid true attention to it. But then, he had spent a month breathing another air...

There was a dim light at the back of the empty wardrobe. He could see branches of pine trees and oaks a few steps away. The branches were painted with a dim golden light. There too, it was twilight.

Caspian was shaking when he breathed out a simple word, the word that described what was beyond the doors of this wardrobe.

“Narnia…”

#caspian #caspian x you #caspian x y/n #caspian x reader #caspian fanfic #caspian fanfiction #caspian x #caspian imagine #caspian series #narnia #narnia fanfic #narnia fanfiction #narnia series

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nanabrainrot · 1 year

Note

Can we pretty pls get another Dulce De Leche drabble??

BABEE ur so cute for coming to my blog for this but dulce is the creation of @richeeduvie ! I had a drabble in my docs

wc: 704

ִ ࣪𖤐.𖥔 ݁ 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 ˖₊ ⊹🌙

“The oil’s a bit strong, don’t you think?”

The evenings were probably unsettling to an outsider: you sat on the bed (with a rope tied to your ankle) while Leonel brushed out your hair for the night as Marco put some drops of peppermint oil in the humidifier. The trio donned similar colors of burgundy in a strange color coordinated pajama set that left the two men in boxers and you in the burgundy briefs version with a bralette. Then Leonel catches a knot.

“Ack! Leo, be careful! The hair knots closer to the root…” you muttered as you leaned a bit forward to show him the little knot near the roots. He grunted in an apologetic tone as Marco lumbered lazily to the comically large bed you three shared. The television purred static lowly behind the telenovela, which featured a cliffhanger you’d inevitably stay up to watch since they kept missing the most interesting episodes - you had to keep rewatching season 7 so they could understand what was happening and didn’t miss that they kept forgetting when they got back from jobs by the furrow of their brows.

Leonel’s hands collect three thick strands to start tying your hair into a thick braid and leaving it for you to do as you wished; he just liked to braid it for busying his hands while drinking in the closeness of you. You usually preferred a bun or something tight to sleep in so his (choppy) handiwork was usually undone fairly quickly after he did it.

Leonel’s hand finds the lamp’s cord and tugs it to turn it off by the nightstand and leaving you and Marco bathed in the light of the television. As the episode closes, you crawl back to the headboard with a yawn as you watch the two men settle under the covers as they went about their own ways of ending the day. The subtle differences despite their overarching similarities never failed to make you smile a little.

Marco slept with socks on and always spritzed the room with a sleep spray you insisted he try (which worked like a charm: blessed be lavender blends) and never wore a shirt to sleep. He tended to put on some deodorant and sit with his back against the headboard to watch the television with you. Settling next to him at the headboard, you watched Leonel shuffle around in his own routine.

The tank top he wore was spritzed with a musky body spray (but not a cologne, that was too expensive to waste) and he tossed his socks into his compartment of the hamper that was divided into three sections. His to the left, yours in the middle, and Marco’s to the right. You knew it was Marco’s because his clothes were hanging out of it and a sock was on the floor whereas Leonel tended to try and keep his items from looking unkempt just as to be aware of neatness with a lady in the house

He hums a low noise of contentment as he settles into a spot below your arm like a bird nestled beneath a wing and laying his head on your chest to relish in your warmth. His hand rubs circles on the exposed skin of your belly, appreciating the soft tissue at your midsection with loving pets. Marco, already settled in, presses a kiss to your temple - a goodnight kiss. You felt him struggling to stay up to finish the last twenty minutes as you watched the episode with alert eyes as the duo kept nodding off.

Their snores are only a little distracting from the screen at the end of the room. The voices become background noise as you start to sink into the collection of pillows of foam and feature and draped in the warmth of men and throws. Settled into the duvet, the air conditioner purrs a low hiss at 65 degrees and the fan blows fast on you three: bathed in the warmth of them, they take special care to keep you comfortable when sandwiched between the heat radiators of men. The episode ends and you are lulled into a dreamless sleep, breathing even breaths with two soft snores from each side.

#nana writes bcs #nana writes #ask nana #leonel salamanca x reader #marco x reader x leonel

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arealphrooblem · 1 year

Text

A Favor for a Favor Part 5

Part one here

CW for the fic overall: kissing/fade to black off screen sex, mentions of non-consensual drugging, non-graphic wound care, off screen murder mention

Synopsis:

When Roxanne -- Agent name Rocket -- is back-stabbed by a friend and given a serum that drains her of her powers and leaves her helpless, she has no choice but to turn to the one person she can't trust: Her nemesis -- a politician and king of the underworld. With her powerless and in the palm of his hand, what he decides to do with her is greatly influenced by their chance meeting as teenagers that neither of them have been able to forget.

John had stayed home with her today and while he may have been happy to putter around the house, washing dishes (which was weird as hell, watching him be domestic), it was killing her to sit and do nothing while Erik got to prance around scott free.

He offered her chess, which she rejected by laughing in his face.

“Like I’m going to play with a known cheater,” she said.

“You don’t think I can win on my own merit?” he asked, sounding almost offended.

“Oh probably. But you won’t. You can’t seem to stay out of my head.”

That fact should bother her more than it did. But part of her felt weirdly flattered that he considered her mind so fascinating. She had no dark past or juicy secrets or scandalous hobbies. Super speed was the only interesting thing about her and now she didn’t even have that anymore.

That evening after dinner she watched him grab his coat and keys. A spark of excitement flared to life.

“Where are we going?” she asked. “Did you find something out? You should let me borrow a jacket.”

He paused at the door, eyebrows raised. “We? We are not going anywhere.”

“Well you’re certainly going somewhere.”

“Yes. Without you.”

“What?”

He gave her a sharp look.“Let me make something very clear to you: there is no we. I am handling this. You are staying here and you are not to leave until I get this sorted out.”

Her mouth fell open. “You can’t just -- hold me hostage like you kidnapped me!” she sputtered

“I did kidnap you. If the armed guards, rope, and empty warehouse didn’t clue you into that, I’m not sure what else could.”

“I -- that’s not -- what?”

“There is only one elevator that goes to the top floor,” he continued, ignoring her, “and it is heavily guarded by people who know your face and reputation.”

“I’m more than just fast you know,” she scoffed. “I could find a way out of here that doesn't use the elevator.”

“I’m sure you’d be reckless and stupid enough to try. Which is why great harm will come to those guards and their loved ones if you go missing from this apartment for any length of time. And their pain will rest on your shoulders.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“And also effective.” He flipped the collar up on his coat. “Be a good girl and stay here and nothing bad should happen.”

“I’ve never been a good girl a day in my life,” she spat, trying to regain some of her dignity.

He smirked. “You were the biggest teacher’s pet of your grade, Roxanne. Nice try.”

“What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?”

“Read a book,” he said with a shrug and opened the door.

Oh she read a book all right. The book of his underwear drawer. And the storage totes under his bed. And the collection of worn old t-shirts in a forgotten zip up bag in the closet. And every framed photo and painting in the house, one of which contained a picture of him and the crew at her work the first time he was interviewed.

She remembered how insistent he was about getting it, glad-handing the caterers and gaffers and camera crew while she floundered between staring at him in awe of finally seeing him again after all these years, and sending him death glares just to let him know that she knew he was full of shit.

He made sure she stood next to him in the photo but otherwise did not recognize her. Or at least he pretended not to. She still wasn’t sure of that first time, even after all these years.

Interesting that he kept the photo framed in his bedroom. There were no pictures of family or friends. He looked so warm and friendly in that photo and yet had no evidence that he actually had anyone to be warm and friendly to outside of politics.

The library contained an immaculately carved stone chess set along with shelves of books. John mostly curated biographies, self help books (of the learn how to manipulate people variety), historical fiction, classics. Books meant to impress people. Only a small lower shelf by the couch contained well thumbed pulp sci-fi paperbacks, like the kind her dad collected.

She picked one up and read until she fell asleep on the couch.

John did not come back that night.

By the time he reappeared, over 24 hours later, Roxanne was moments away from going full crazy town banana pants. Nothing distracted her from her racing thoughts, not the books, not the TV with every streaming service known to man, not the heated outdoor pool on the rooftop terrace or second deliciously long hot bath in his tub.

“Fucking finally!” she cried as he stepped through the door and toed his shoes off. “What the hell took so long!”

“I would tell you but that might make you an accessory to murder,” he said.

She froze, stomach plummeting. “That’s a joke, right?”

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked instead.

“Don’t change the subject! Where the hell were you? What did you do?”

“I’ll tell you one thing I didn’t do and that was eat.”

He made his way to the kitchen and she marched after him, an annoying and persistent little gnat.

“Did you find anything out?”

He opened the freezer and pulled out a frozen lasagna.

“Preheat the oven to four fifty,” he said.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” she said, viciously punching the number into his ridiculous touch screen oven.

“I’m trying to gage how much more you will hate me after I tell you.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t hate you. I might want to strangle you a lot and see you in an orange jumpsuit for a little while, but I don’t hate you.”

He looked at her, cautious and solemn, reminding her powerfully of when she first met him. “You might start.”

A knot twisted in her gut. “You killed Erik, didn’t you?”

“Oh yes. With great pleasure.”

It almost didn’t sink in. Her mind tried desperately to deny it, crying liar at him, because he lied all the time, why not about this? But he didn’t even try to hide it.

“Why?”

“He stole from me and he used it to hurt you. Both were unforgivable.”

The admission that someone hurting her felt unforgivable to him sent her brain into overdrive trying to figure out the implications. It took her a moment to catch on to the the first part of what he said.

“What do you mean stole? What did he steal?”

He leaned across the counter, arms crossed, face impassive. Ready for a fight.

“The serum he used to take your powers -- I had it created some years ago. He took it from my labs to use against you.”

She felt dizzy, suddenly. Her pulse roared in her ears. “You made it?” she asked faintly.

He just looked at her.

“ . . .You. It came from you.”

God damn it, she really was as stupid and naive as he thought. She took shelter with him, thinking she knew the risks, because he was the one person not associated with the Agency or potentially in their pocket. He didn’t need them to have his own power. And yeah, he would definitely take advantage of her vulnerability for his own gain; she expected that.

She didn’t think he would be the cause of it.

How much of this was an elaborate mind game? Did he pay Erik to do this to take her out of commission? Did he kill Erik to keep his anonymity? Did he hedge his bets that she would seek him out for help rather than go on the run on her own?

How long did he intend to hold her hostage here? Was he going to kill her the moment she had her guard fully down, the moment after everyone reported her missing and assumed dead?

“Roxanne,” he said, taking a slow cautious step towards her. “That serum was not made for you. It was never intended for you. I did not set this up as a scheme to kill you.”

“It sounds exactly like something you would do,” she hissed, throat tight with unshed tears.

“I can’t deny that. But I had this serum for five years. Why would I wait until now to use it? Why would I embed myself in the Agency to do it when any of your fellow camera crew could have done the job? Think, Roxanne. I am a bastard, but I’m not stupid. This was a stupid, reckless plan.”

He made sense. He spoke logic. But that didn’t make it true. He had gotten his power through knowing exactly what to say to people to get what he wanted.

She wanted, very badly, for it to be true.

He took another step closer and the kitchen felt suddenly claustrophobic.

“Don’t,” she said, voice strangled. “Stay away! I just -- I need some air.”

She turned and ran.

In mid January the rooftop terrace was frigid. She had no coat. The cold air felt bracing, though, and it calmed her feverish thoughts. It brought clarity.

She could not hide from the fact that she might not love John, but she wanted to. She could, if she let herself. That she felt tied to him, responsible for him, all this time. That she understood why he clawed his way into a sense of power and safety through any means necessary even if she didn’t approve of them. She could not cast the first stone because she would probably not be any different in his shoes.

The thought that he had betrayed her like this felt unbearable. It literally made her sick, like her entire body rejected the idea. She forced herself to confront the possibility anyway. Because as much as she did care for John, she really couldn’t trust him to do anything that conflicted with his best interests.

And it was in his best interest to keep her powerless.

Of course, the real problem was that if he did betray her, there was fuck all she could do about it. He could be bluffing about hurting his own guards and their families, but she would never risk it. He lived on the top story of the building, so she couldn’t sneak her way down. If he had the money and ability to bribe Erik, who else in the Agency did he have in his pocket? She had no one else with resources to help her and she didn’t know who she could trust.

She had to give him the benefit of the doubt.

She had no other choice.

Part 6 here

#hero x villain #enemies to lovers #writeblr #my writing #a favor for a favor #dark villain

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specialagentlokitty · 2 years

Text

Mr Evershed x Student!reader - make it home

Part one:

You were staring at your phone screen, following the two little dots that were a few streets away on the app while reading the texts that appeared on the top of the screen.

Flicking your gaze up, you saw a burning car but decided to ignore it, not your circus not your monkeys you didn’t have time to be dealing with other peoples issues you were in a hurry.

Pulling your hood a little further up over your head you walked past the flames, but stepped into the road to avoid the heat before making your way back on to the path.

You heard someone call out, but you ignored them.

“Hey! I said stop!” He yelled.

A hand was placed on your shoulder and someone spun you around and you kept your gaze firmly on the floor as you stuffed your phone in your pocket.

“I suggest you remove your hand.” You sneered out.

“You think it’s funny? Huh? Setting cars on fire? Who put you up to this?” He snapped.

You scoffed, slapping his hand away with a low growl.

“I don’t have time for your crap, why would I waste my time blowing up your car? Call the police or something.”

You went to walk away and he grabbed the back of your hood, pulling it down and you whipped around, slapping his hand ever harder.

Your eyes met his and he stared at you for a few seconds before he slowly backed away and you cursed under your breath, pulling you hood back up.

Stalking forward, you grabbed his arm and tossed him on the floor, yellow eyes peering down at him before you looked away.

“Don’t go burning yourself moron, did you forget the flaming car? Tsk. Idiot.”

Turning around you stuffed your hands back in your pockets and stared to jog down the street in order to get away as fast as you possible could.

You had the route you needed memorised, so you took a shortcut through a few gardens and you jumped into an empty alleyway.

Two boys stood there arms crossed, their yellow eyes burning into you.

“What took you so long?” The blond one asked.

“Relax Jordan. I’m here, okay? Some moron stopped me accusing me of something I didn’t do. Let’s just get out of here okay?”

“What did he accuse you off?” The black haired one asked.

“It doesn’t matter Ryan, let’s just go!” You hissed.

The twins shared a look before they followed you and you guys jogged down some streets, making your way towards the edge of town.

You guys headed into the house and they locked the door as you turned some of the lights on and sat on the sofa in the living room.

“So, who is this man? What he looked like?” Ryan asked.

“Look, just drop it okay? I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time is all.”

“Still, we should teach him a lesson.” Jordan snarled.

You growled lowly and he raised his hands, sitting on the sofa opposite the one you were sat on and Ryan sat next to him, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why can’t we teach him a lesson, no one needs to know.” Ryan grumbled.

“Because we’re supposed to be laying low idiots. We can’t risk being caught, it’s why we left during the summer, remember?”

The twins rolled their eyes at you and grumbled about going back to school but you said nothing, you simply went upstairs to your room to sleep.

The following morning you three stood at the reception desk while Loraine spoke to someone on the phone.

The twins had their backs against yours, arms crossed against their chest as they glared at any students who tried to get too close.

“It’s nice to see you three, you missed the first day.” Mrs Carter smiled.

You looked at her and the twins turned around and she shuffled back a few steps.

“We have your timetables here, boys you’ll be moving up to year 10, you need to start getting ready for your exams next year. (Y/N) you’re in year 9, your first class is with Mr Evershed, I’ll take you there, boys you’ve got PE.”

She handed your three you timetables and the boys looked at you and you nodded, gesturing for them to leave.

“We’ll wait for you after.” Jordan said.

You gave a Curt nod and followed behind the headteacher as she led you through the hallways towards the English classroom.

She knocked on the door and walked in, speaking to the teacher for a few moments before she came out and gestured for you to go on through.

“Please no trouble this year (Y/N).” She sighed.

You said nothing and walked into the classroom, taking a seat in the far back you gazed at the book that was sat there waiting for you to open.

“Right, back to where we left off.” Mr Evershed spoke.

You looked up at the sound of the voice and stared blankly at him before sneering a little and turning your attention to the book in front of you.

You made no attempt to take part in class and as everyone was packing away the teacher called your name and you turned around.

“I was wondering if we could have a chat?” Mr Evershed smiled.

You tossed your bag over your shoulder and stood up as all the other students left you stuffed your hands in your pockets as you turned around.

Your eyes connected with his and his eyes widened a little in shock.

“You…” he whispered.

“Yes, me. The one who you accused last night of setting your car on fire.” You said coldly.

He sighed, running his hand over his hair as he sat down on his desk.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions, I just saw you there and thought someone put you up to it.”

You walked towards the door and pushed it open.

“Maybe you shouldn’t act so rashly next time then. Don’t expect me to turn up to your next class, I’m not dealing with someone who’s throwing accusations around.”

“Hold on! Wait!” He called.

He rushed to the door and tried to go after you but he was stopped by two boys who pushed him back a little.

“Get the hint newbie.” Jordan snapped.

“Take a step towards (Y/N) again and we’ll put you through the nearest wall.”

“Enough.” You said.

They looked back at you and I crossed their arms, turning around to follow you while Mr Evershed just stared at the three of you.

Students jumped out of the way as you guys walked past and took a small breath, not realising he was trembling.

“Don’t worry sir, they’ve got that kind of affect.” Sam whispered.

He looked down at her and looked back up.

He went through his next class in what felt like seconds, and he finally made his way through the hallways towards the front office.

He knocked on the door and walked in, smiling at the headteacher as she looked up.

“What can I do for you?” She asked.

“Well… I think I was threatened by two students?” He said confused.

“Tall boys, one blond haired one black haired?” She asked.

He nodded his head and she sighed, pulling three files out of her desk she showed them to him and he opened them.

“Yeah, these two are it. And (Y/N) was in my first class.”

“Yeah, they’re the (L/N) kids. Twins Jordan and Ryan, and (Y/N), the youngest of the three. The twins are extremely protective of (Y/N), but (Y/N) is the one who calls the shots.”

“I take it they’ve done this before?”

She nodded softly and ran her hand down her face, resting her hands on the desk.

“Yeah, they have. We’ve tried to get them transferred to another school but no one will take them. We can’t expel them since the council have said that they want these three to remain in school where they can be somewhat kept an eye on.”

“Right so we just have to accept that students and teachers are going to be threatened daily?” He asked.

Mrs Carter shook her head and pointed to your file.

“Look, my hands are tied, I have to keep them in the school. Just try not to get on their bad side and you’ll be alright. (Y/N) is the rational one, stay on their hood side and it’ll be fine.”

“Right, but I’m not comfortable being threatened by students however.”

“I’m sorry Martin, I can’t do anything about it.” She sighed.

He sighed as he nodded his head, knowing his hands were tied and that he couldn’t do or say anything to try and get her to remove you all from the school.

Suddenly the door was thrown open and Loraine came running in.

“Those feral twins are at it again.” She rushed out.

“Oh for god sake!”

Mrs Carter got up and rushed out as fast as she could while Mr Evershed ran after Loraine and into the canteen where he found you cradling your nose while Jordan held a boy up by his shirt and Ryan knelt beside you hand on your shoulder.

“Jordan put him down!” Mr Evershed yelled.

Jordan looked over at the teacher and sneered before tossing the boy to the floor and walking over to you while the teacher went to check up on the boy that had just been thrown.

Getting up, Mr Evershed pointed to the three of you.

“You three detention after now, this is unacceptable Behaviour!”

Mrs Carter walked in and sighed in relief when she saw the commotion had died down, but the look the twins were giving Mr Evershed made her worry about his safety, and she decided she was going to sit in on that detention just in case.

The twins helped you up and you guys followed him to his classroom and sat on the far side while the two teachers stood at the front.

“You good?” Ryan whispered.

“Let us see…” Jordan nodded.

You moved your hand away to show the twins and they used the sleeves of their jumpers to dab away the blood, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the two teachers.

“Can you get the first aid kit Mandy?” Mr Evershed whispered

#ackley bridge #Ackley bridge x reader #Ackley bridge x you #Ackley bridge imagine #mr evershed #mr evershed x reader #mr evershed x you #mr Evershed imagine #mr evershed x reader make it home

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basic204 · 10 months

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Exterminators

Since I was young, there has been 3 things I’ve known for certain to be true: I come from old money, there is more to this world that meets the eye, and there is something wrong with my brother.

So, that went from 0-100 real fast, I get it, so let me just go from least concerning to most concerning. By restating my family comes from old money. And by old, I don’t mean 1900s or 1800s, from what little I’ve seen of the family tree it goes all the way back to the 1400s at least. Now, considering just how long ago that was, you may be assuming that we’re rich enough the buy the whole world and still have extra, but that isn’t the case. We still have a filthy amount of money, but no more than your average billionaire. But it is something I tend to forget, since I wasn’t really raised rich. Sure, looking back, my parents never really worried about the mortgage or groceries or other expenses, but we didn’t exactly live exorbitantly. My childhood home was fairly big, but it was a typical home, not a mansion or anything. And my parents both still worked full-time, even though they had more than enough to retire at 40 and still have enough to pass down. And while I often wondered how we got so much money as a teen, the only answer I ever got was “the old family business.” I wouldn’t find out exactly what that was until my 21st birthday, but I did know it related to my second point.

There is more to this world than meets the eye. Something many say and believe, and even more disbelieve. But I have seen things from myths and fairy tales, things that would blow away science. The first encounter I remember was when I was 5. I was lying in bed, pretending to sleep as most children do so I could goof off, when a strange blue orb flew in through my window. I wondered how, since it had a screen, but I didn’t really care to think too hard about it. I was more focused on the shining ball that soon became a small figure. They were human, or at least looked human, with dragonfly wings and a mischievous grin. They played with me that night, and it felt magical, since I had few friends as a child. About 10 minutes after the strange, tiny human’s arrival my parents burst into my room, holding strange glowing flyswatters, but calmed down from their frenzy when the creature began speaking. What they said, I’m not sure. Time has eroded the specific words, and I didn’t speak the language at the time, but the creature left after a short conversation and I was told about the secrets of the world. Monsters, fairies, and magic all existed. Kept secret by the retreat of the mystic creatures into other planes, and the hard work of the mages to keep it all hidden. I was told to keep this secret, and even though I really wanted to tell someone, I could tell even at that age the consequences wouldn’t be worth it. The fairy, who’s name I never learned, was a lifeline through my childhood. They would always come and play with me when I was young, and as I began middle school they became someone to confide in about my troubles. One day, though, they stopped, and while it hurt wondering what happened I did eventually move on.

When I hit 21, I was brought into my father’s “study.” It was, in reality, just the computer room, but it had a lot of my father’s books and he spent a lot of time in there. He told me what I had been dying to know for years: the family business. Apparently, somewhere early in the line when the magical and mundane were still intertwined, an ancestor of my mother began hunting creatures that threatened the world. This became family tradition, and we honed our talents and techniques through the generations, incorporating new technology and adapting to the world. My mother met my father through the job, and in the span of a year and a half they dated, wed, and had my brother. When they had him, they got out of the business, selling off some family assets to help inflate what was, at the time, our dwindling money. And 5 years after my brother was born they had me. Learning about the family business helped connect some dots from my younger years. It explained why we would sometimes move without warning, packing everything in the span of 2 days and moving across the country. It explained why my parents would sometimes accompany us to school, and their generally overprotective behavior. Because, when you’ve been hunting mystical creatures since the 1400s, you tend to make some enemies. And the mystical can carry grudges worse than any human. Which, coincidentally enough, brings me to my third point.

Something is wrong with my brother and has been wrong with him since he was born. The first sign was his appearance. My family can be traced back to somewhere in what is now the UK, and we all generally have pretty deep red hair. My brother, however, was born with gray hair, and it had gradually whitened into a silvery white as he grew older. It was a slight cause for concern, as my parents were afraid he had been cursed somehow, but other than that he seemed like a normal baby.

Then he grew older. And mom and dad realized he was crazy in tune with magic. Like, more so than any modern-day human should. He also claims to have seen… things. Horrifying, eldritch things that seem to defy logic, that no one else can see. And his all-around demeanor is cold, almost threatening. When you get to know him, you find he’s really nice, and enjoys helping people. But the first impression of him is usually “yeah, I can see him killing someone and not caring.” This outward coldness always scared me as a child, but I never actively avoided him. In fact it just made me want to get closer to him. Lately, I’ve heard from mom that he’s taken up the old family business, but I haven’t heard from him in months. Mom and dad seem worried too, so I don’t think he’s ignoring me. But recently when I think about him I just get this overwhelming sense of worry. I’ve recently been training my own skills, so I can help him out if he needs it. I’m no where as good as him, since I’ve just started about a year ago, but fortunately my family has some pretty powerful stuff I can fall back on.

#writing promt #creative writing #funny #writing #writing prompts

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pastelroyce · 2 years

Text

Before I Go, Let Me Say This

My part of the N7 Exchange event for queenofthejungle on Ao3. They had a lot of top tier ship suggestions but I was in the mood for mshenko (rather, when am I not in the mood?) with suggestions of angst and two dudes in love. This was my take on that!

Title: Before I Go, Let Me Say This

Summary: Shepard is on his way to the Omega-4 relay, but finds himself thinking about Kaidan and Horizon.

Words: 1,397

Rated: T (language)

Relationship: Male Shepard/Kaidan Alenko

Additional tags: light angst, angst with feels

Also available on Ao3

Commander Shepard was approximately 5 hours away from what could possibly be the last mission of his (second) life, yet in that moment replying to a damn letter was proving to be a more monumental task. The blinking cursor on his open message terminal mocked him from his position on the bed. Another screen behind it blocked out the rooftop view port of the Normandy, the letter Kaidan sent after their encounter on Horizon.

When he read the header for the first time his heart seized, petrified into a heavy weight, plummeted into the depths of his gut and lightened into a flutter all in the span of two seconds. It took one day to open the message and another three days to read it in full. Shepard read the letter over, and over, and over again until he could read it in his sleep–which he had in a dream a few nights ago.

Horizon was a mess. Horizon was an absolute cluster fuck of a premeditated mess that Shepard didn't think he'd ever forgive The Illusive Man for putting Kaidan and the colonists through. Horizon was what fully cemented the idea that Shepard was dead for two fucking years and all of its subsequent consequences, all of the possible ways it resonated with everyone he knew.

Of course Kaidan would be the first to apologize.

As Shepard read the message–at that point it became less reading and more scanning for important points–he could still hear Kaidan in the back of his head.

"You turned your back on everything we believed in! You betrayed the Alliance, you betrayed me!"

"I loved you. Thinking you were dead tore me apart. How could you put me through that?!"

"You've changed, but I know where my loyalties lie."

His words stung but after, once heads were cooler and Horizon was in another system, they weren't unreasonable.

Shepard had been the unreasonable one.

"I can see you won't listen to reason."

"The Alliance is going to blame Cerberus, just like you did."

"You saw what happened here!"

He definitely didn't feel like he walked away from that one on top.

Shepard wanted to write back, say he was also sorry and that he still loved Kaidan, maybe even more than before. The words never formed correctly, never deemed fitting for everything Shepard felt; the fifteen drafted letters saved in his terminal was proof enough.

Four and a half hours away from the Omega-4 relay.

With a resounding sigh, Shepard pushed himself off his bed and dragged his feet to the work desk. Maybe laying in bed was the problem; after all, his most productive report writing was done at that desk so logically he should be able to write the letter there no problem. What happened, instead, was that all Shepard could think about was Kaidan back on Horizon.

“Why didn’t you try to contact me? Why didn’t you let me know you were alive?!”

At the three hour mark that fucking cursor kept blinking on the still blank screen.

Fuck it.

If the mission did go FUBAR, if there really was a chance he wouldn't see the other side, he needed closure. Real closure and not a letter he'd forget about later. With a deep breath and a prayer he dialed up Kaidan's omni-tool.

"Commander Alenko speaking." That seemed too fast, too ready but Shepard could ruminate on that later. His heart leapt into his throat leaving his vision blurry and mind just a little gone. Kaidan repeated himself, his voice seemed too far away.

"Got your message," was what came out, low and hesitant. Shepard could have sworn he heard Kaidan gasp.

It was Kaidan's turn to go silent save for some rustling in the background and an automated door sliding. Shepard stood up in the meantime.

"John," came Kaidan's voice again, "it's…"

"Just," the longer they floundered, the less Shepard felt sure about what he was doing, "hear me out, okay? Two minutes."

A deep inhale came from Kaidan’s end but he quickly gave an okay. The floor was Shepard’s. For a split second he wished he had actually planned the call, rehearsed for maybe even a second because suddenly the words were just gone. Son of a bitch…

“John?”

"I," Shepard dragged a hand over his shaved head, "I'm…also sorry. About what happened."

"John-"

"I mean it.” When in doubt, spill your guts. “Sure I got angry, and for a while I felt like I was justified in that anger but shit Kaidan, how else do you cope with the fact you've been dead for two years?!"

"I was able to do it…"

Oh.

"Shit, shit, shit, I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"I know.” Kaidan’s voice was terse, like he was speaking through his teeth. Shepard could picture it perfectly in his head, the way Kaidan��s brow was probably pinched and how hard he must be trying to not frown. Their time on the SR-1 gave Shepard time to discover Kaidan’s tells.

“I need to backpedal. Uhh, another two minutes?”

“It’s been nearly ten minutes now.”

Has it?

Shepard checked the chronometer on his omni-tool. Sure enough the call was fast approaching the ten minute mark, and almost two and a half hours until they hit the Omega-4 relay. When did making a call get so difficult?

Well, shit.

“Anyway, Kaidan, I am sorry. I’m sorry for the way I acted on Horizon, but there’s something I want you to know,” he leaned against the fish tank, “if I had it my way, you would have been the first person I’d have gone after. Part of why it took a fucking invasion of a backwater colony to see you was partly due to being stonewalled in the beginning. Then circumstances came into play, and my current mission took priority, and…,” Shepard let his eyes follow the motions of a couple of jellyfish floating in the tank, “I just…had no idea how to approach you.”

Kaidan sighed. “Higher ups wanted me to investigate Cerberus, probably because our time hunting them gave me some credibility. You and I saw the limits their scientists were willing to go, but total resurrection?

When I first heard the rumors of you being alive, I refused to believe them, but…there was another part of me that hoped you would have tried to find me. God knows I did.” As Kaidan spoke his voice got lower so that by the end it was little more than a raspy whisper. “When I got approved for the mission on Horizon I knew Anderson would keep a tight lip about it.”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t even tell me.”

“Can you blame him? Could you imagine how mind boggling it is to see someone–someone who was dead for two years–back to life and working for known terrorists? The same terrorists you killed along with them?”

Just when Shepard felt he could breathe in, Kaidan spoke up again.

“Also, you didn’t know how to approach me? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Because, once again, I was dead for two years! What if you had moved on? What if you-”

“I could never.”

The certainty in Kaidan’s voice stopped Shepard dead in his tracks.

“I tried to but I couldn’t. I loved you John, and maybe I still do. You’re still the only one who can make me feel human.” Kaidan’s voice sounded heavy at that and Shepard felt his chest tighten along with him. God damn it.

“I love you too.”

Two hours and fifteen minutes until the Omega-4 relay. Shepard swallowed.

“Kaidan,” Kaidan doesn’t answer verbally, instead gives a small ‘hmm?’, “when I’m done with this mission I swear I’ll get back to you, no matter what.” Was it an empty promise? Maybe, but Shepard knew he would be kicking himself later if he didn’t say anything. As much as his drive revoked around saving the galaxy, Kaidan was in the galaxy, so it only made sense to make him a priority. Get in, beat collector ass, get out, see Kaidan. No ship in known existence had ever made it back out of the relay; something Shepard was determined to fight tooth and nail to change. The impossible seemed less daunting with the thought of seeing Kaidan at the end of everything.

“Yeah,” Kaidan said back, “I’ll be looking forward to that.”

#mass effect #commander shepard #kaidan alenko #mshenko #john shepard #pastel fics

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sockgate · 2 years

Note

What did you think about the doc? I thought it could've been a bit better and it's not even because of the bg stuff, just idk something felt lacking but I guess that makes sense with Louis' situation

this might be long but at least its not the 12 minute video review i recorded in my car on the way home. let me try and organize it by ~theme~ at least

fans: latam fans... incredible showstopping props to them. their insane energy alone made those concert sequences so sick on camera. the americans and italians following him on the other hand were fucking embarassing and it was hard to watch ngl. lthq encouraging camping and stalking is nothing new but it's just getting annoying at this point. also. if you still need to ask your parents for permission to sleep on the street, you probably shouldn't be sleeping on the street.

narrative: i don't really get what charlie was trying to do tbh. like the time skips and forgetting a bunch of shit that happened (that we KNOW happened) is just weird and lowkey feels like lthq trying to rewrite history and gaslight us into forgetting things happened. like don't worry about 2018!! nothing absolutely nothing happened here!! let's just fast forward to walls promo and tour!!

footage: i felt like there was so much missing. the broken arm?? him going to the hospital? like the fucking drama they could've got out of that situation alone would have been insane to see. think about it. you're on the second leg of your multi leg world tour and your arm breaks from running into a fucking wall. we deserved greys anatomy and got ... whatever this is. charlie filmed so many fans over the last couple and got so many perspectives and all of that was underwhelming. and the footage was just? stuff we've already seen? i could tell there were so many "harries pretending to give a shit about louis" at my showing bc they gasped when niall came on the screen. like we knew that was gonna be in there? it was in the igtv from 3 years ago?? and so much stuff was already in the afhf doc that i was literally saying out loud "i've seen this before." bc it just kept coming. so my theory that he used afhf to pitch this concept was true i guess, he just added some more stuff. it felt jumbled and rushed in a lot of places with little flow from place to place

interviews: the only one that was genuine to me was oli, because of course it was. especially the f scenes, you can tell louis was unconvincing on camera and had to adr some lines over all the totally definitely not set-up beach footage. though i did like hearing from his extended family and having them featured, the scene with them at the donny house sitting in circle was kinda off... not in a "they're lying way", just that the shots were not at all creative or genuine. i honestly wished charlie shot their perspective and commentary differently. the more traditional interview style with the sisters were better imo

the band: they're incredible. i'm so happy louis has found such a great group to travel and make music with. you can tell they all care so deeply for one another and i'm really happy for him. sidenote: their chemistry and vibes are INSANE. i just know their gonna love touring together again this year. from the words of oli, "it were better than a one direction gig"

tldr; if promotion for his upcoming tour and establishing some sort of bg narrative to get things moving was the point of this, i can understand where this doc came from. i still find it very interesting there is a lot of louis footage charlie didn't film that fits the "poor louis not knowing what to do next" narrative. stuff is definitely missing from the film. but if you like the band and oli, and overall just like people talking ABOUT louis, the film is definitely worth checking out

#i dont think i missed anything but yea #i forgot how nice it is to get asks without someone telling me to kms #asks #anon #aotv

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aura-acolyte · 1 year

Text

Off-Screen Event: The Truth Revealed

“SIR AARON!” Kazoku shouted with rage.

He charged at the ghost of his former friend, ready to strike him but was stopped by a blue barrier. After a second the barrier seemingly dissipated. Kazoku tried again but once again hit the barrier, which was not being spontaneously created but instead was invisible, only appearing when struck. In a fit of rage Kazoku continued to pummel the barrier, mankind zero progress. As he did, Sir Aaron simply stood there, looking sad.

“Fight me you coward!” Kazoku shouted.

“Kazoku, my friend, please listen.” Sir Aaron said.

“Why should I listen to you!” Kazoku shouted. “You betrayed the kingdom! You betrayed the queen! You betrayed your duty as an Aura Guardian! And you betrayed me!”

Sir Aaron looked downwards, covering his face with the brim of his hat. “I am sorry Kazoku. I am so, so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”

Ghostly tears fell from beneath his hat, hitting the ground and dissipating. This gave Kazoku pause. He never meant for this to happen? But he had abandoned everything he stood for. He knew exactly what would happen.

Kazoku stood down but kept his guard up. “Explain.” He growled.

Even though he was dead and thus didn’t need to breathe, Sir Aaron took a deep breath. “I never abandoned the kingdom or the queen. I lied to you because I knew if I told you the truth you’d never allow me to go through with my true plan.”

“Your… true plan?” Kazoku parroted. Evidently, Mare was contagious.

“Allow me to explain.” Sir Aaron said.

----

(Music Box: Sir Aaron 2 from Lucario and the Mystery of Mew)

Aaron soared through the skies on his Pidgeot, frantically searching for the Aura of his friend. There, in the canyon between the two armies. He angled his Pidgeot downwards and leaped off his Pidgeot.

“Kazoku? What happened to your eyes?” He asked.

“Don’t worry about me, Sir Aaron.” Kazoku replied.

“Don’t call me that.” Aaron replied, voice quivering. “I am abandoning the queen and the kingdom. I am no longer worthy of my title.”

“What!” Kazoku yelled.

“I’m sorry.” Aaron said, pulling down the brim of his hat to cover his eyes.

He turned and began to run. Kazoku chased after him but before he could get very far, Aaron whipped back around and threw his sword into the ground tip first. There was a bright light and Kazoku was sucked into the sword.

“I’m sorry.” Aaron said again, tears staining the ground.

He held up his fingers to his mouth and whistled. His Pidgeot swooped down and he leaped onto its back. Without needing any direction, the Pidgeot immediately set a course towards the Tree of Beginnings. He had to act fast. If he failed the armies would collide and obliterate Rota.

Seeing as he was on a Pidgeot and not on foot he got to bypass the whole “climbing up the tree” thing. He was simply able to fly straight to the entrance to the Altar Room. He stepped through the doorway and into the room. It was calm inside, one could almost forget there was a war raging out there. But not Aaron.

“Mew!” He called out. “I am Sir Aaron, Aura Guardian and Chosen of Rayquaza! I offer my Aura and power to you so that you may heal this broken world!”

He did not wait for the Mythical Pokemon to appear. He held out both hands in front of him and focused his energy. A ball of Aura appeared at the end of his outstretched arms, starting small but growing bigger until it completely engulfed him. Then, the bright blue of the Aura mixed with vibrant golds and greens as Aaron channeled the power of Rayquaza.

From outside the tree, the Kingdom of Rota saw the Tree of Beginnings erupt with blue, green, and gold lights just as the two armies clashed. These lights expanded and bathed the land and when everything cleared… there was peace.

----

“So you… didn’t betray the Kingdom?” Kazoku asked, still trying to wrap his mind around what he was just told.

Aaron shook his head. “No. I did not betray the Kingdom or the Order. I died saving them. But I did betray you. And for that I am sorry.” He sighed. “I had hoped that somebody would find my sword and set you free but I guess they did not even realize you were trapped in there. They must have assumed you died with me.”

“I am also sorry.” Kazoku said, placing his paw over his heart. “I am supposed to be your closest friend and yet I bought so quickly into the possibility that you would betray the Order. I should have known better.”

“Its fantastic that you’re making up but we are on a bit of a schedule, here.” Mosa interrupted, pointing at his wrist. “We still have to find whatever or whoever is threatening Mew.”

“Ah, yes, right.” Aaron said. “I am here to assist with that. First, Riley.”

Riley pointed at himself. “Me?” Sir Aaron nodded. “Yes. Riley, my descendant, come forward and hold out your hand.”

Riley did so. Sir Aaron cupped his hands around Riley’s. There was a faint glow and when Aaron removed his hands Riley now had a single black glove inset with a round blue jewel.

“Riley, I bestow upon you a keystone. Combined with Lucarionite, you and Mosa should be able to achieve Mega Evolution. But be warned that without proper training the Aura overload could be too much for him to handle.”

“Wait.” Mare said. “He doesn’t have Lucarionite, though.”

“True.” Aaron said. “Which is why I need to ask something of Kyoshi. Please, bestow upon Mosa your Lucarionite.” “What!” Mare shouted. “But she can’t Mega Evolve without it!”

“Mare, my successor, please trust me.” Aaron said.

Mare paused for a moment and thought it over. Finally, she sighed.

“Okay, I trust you. Kyoshi?” “I also trust him.” Kyoshi replied.

The Lucario took off the band containing her Lucarionite. She held it out to Mosa.

“Mosa, Partner and Mentor to Riley Genmai, I hereby bestow upon you this Lucarionite.” She said. “This is not something I do lightly. While the stone grants great power it is also a great burden.”

Mosa took the band solemnly and wrapped it around his arm. “I understand. Thank you, Master Kyoshi.”

“Thank you for trusting me, Mare.” Aaron said. “Do not worry about Kyoshi being incapable of Mega Evolving. I will now teach you an even stronger power, one forged from the bond between you and Kyoshi.”

Before Aaron even got the chance to explain what this meant, Regirock crashed through the ceiling.

#pokeblogging #pkmn irl #pokemon irl #irl pkmn #off screen event #mystery of mew

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sailorkamino · 2 years

Text

Hospital Bed Confessions

relationships: jake lockley x fem!reader, established marc spector x fem!reader, steven grant x fem!reader

word count: 2k

summary: As long as Jake can remember he's only had Marc and Steven to protect - then you came into the picture. Jake is scared to admit just how much you mean to him until you're injured, then he can no longer hide his feelings.

warnings: car accident/hospitalization/injuries, protective (but soft) jake, referenced childhood abuse, non sexual showering together, little bit of jealous!jake, jake has never been in a healthy/loving relationship and it shows.

translations: cariño- dear, princesa- princess, mi vida- my life, muñeca- doll

‘Has Y/N sent her home text yet?’ Steven asks from his reflection in Gus’ II’s and Gil’s fish tank. Jake looks away from the TV, “her what?” His alter looks annoyed, ‘you know what I’m talking about. The text She sends everynight to tell us she got home safe.’

Jake sighs dramatically picking up their shared phone. When he sees the late time illuminated on the screen something twists in his gut. Ever since you started dating Steven, and later Marc, you would send daily texts to whoever was fronting. The amount would vary depending on your workload but there were always three constants: good morning, I’m home, good night.

Jake clenches his jaw. He tells himself he’s being irrational, clingy even. He tries to keep his voice even when he responds. “No, but she said she was working late.”

This time it’s Marc that speaks up. ‘She should definitely be home by now. Call her.’

“You two are so dramatic,” he grumbles, although he was about to do that anyway. You don’t answer. Jake tries to ignore the worry churning in his gut. You’re an adult, you don’t need him hovering, but something feels off. Marc and Steven are pestering him to go to your flat but he barks at them in Spanish, trying to gather his own thoughts. A notification has them all freezing.

Jake takes only a moment to read the message before an unreadable expression flickers across his face. He bolts out of the flat, leaving his altars in the dark. If you heard the way he was yelling at the cabbie to hurry up you would be pissed but manners are the last thing on his mind. Once the car comes to a stop he throws some money (including a tip because he’s not a monster) at the poor driver before jumping out.

He’s practically running through the hallways, ignoring the poor doctors and nurses dodging his path. Finally he finds the room. He bursts through the door but the sight before him makes him freeze. He’s seen, and done, many violent things but seeing you hurt is something he’ll never forget.

You peer at him for a moment, taking in the unfamiliar stance and the way he holds his jaw, before a tired smile spreads across your cut lips, “Jake.” He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and approaches your bed. His hands clench by his sides. He wants to touch you, reassure himself that you’re here, but he’s afraid of hurting you worse. “You should see the other guy,” you joke. He doesn’t laugh, eyes becoming impossibly darker.

“What happened?”

You blink slowly at him. You know Jake is incredibly protective but you had never witnessed it towards you. Jake has always kept you at arms length so to speak. You would text some whenever he was fronting but he woukd mostly just tell you about Marc and Steven. He didn’t seem to realize that you cared about him just as much, and wanted to get to know him too.

“I don’t know, it happened so fast. I was driving home, I saw headlights then just… pain.” You wince at the memory.

His gaze is much softer now. “Are you in pain now, cariño?”

The pet name has you grinning, despite how sore your face is. “Some, but not too bad. They have me on a lot of drugs.” His eyes travel your scratched and bruised form. He wonders how many more injuries he can’t see and clenches his jaw. “Where are you hurt?”

You hesitate for a moment, knowing he won’t like the answers. “Umm my back is sprained, broken ribs, whiplash, and a concussion… plus I have some cuts but it’s not as bad as it sounds.” Your attempts to soften the blow do nothing as he curses in Spanish (which is actually really sexy but now is not in the time.) His brows are furrowed in concentration and you can only assume Steven and Marc are griping in his head.

You brush your fingers against his in an attempt to calm him down. He looks down to see you weakly grabbing his rougher hand, effectively making his heart stutter. “Fuck, you’re cold,” he hisses, gently running his thumb over your chilled skin. He lets go of your hand (much to your disappointment) so he can remove his jacket and drape it over your body. You breathe in the familiar cologne that all the boys wear, snuggling into the leather.

“Thank you, Jakey.”

He shakes his head at the nickname as he takes a seat in the plush chair beside your bed. You turn your head to look at him playfully. “You know this isn’t how I imagined our first date.” He scoffs in response, "this isn’t our first date." You feel the sting of rejection and consider hiding under his jacket to cry a little but then he takes your hand in his (where it belongs, in your humble opinion.)

"Once you're better I’ll take you somewhere real nice, okay? But you have to heal up first.”

Your heart rises from where it had fallen in the pit of your stomach to flutter in your chest. “I’d like that,” you hum. Your gaze travels to your interlaced fingers, thinking about your words carefully. “To be honest, I didn’t even think you liked me.”

‘Nice going, locker,’ Marc seethes mentally. ‘You hurt her feelings.’

Jake ignores him as usual. “Oh princesa,” he sighs deeply, “I’ll admit at first I didn’t trust you. Nothing personal, I just didn’t want Marc or Steven to get hurt. But then I saw the way you treated them and I started falling for you too.”

This time his altars are quiet. Your voice is soft when you ask, “why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know how. I’ve never been in a relationship. I’ve never cared about someone the way I care about you. And you seemed so happy with them.”

Your heart melts at his confession. You’re not naive. You know Jake has a dark side. He’s the manifestation of anger and resentment Marc felt as an abused child, but he’s also a protector. “We’re lucky to have you,” you softly confess.

He looks at you in awe for a moment before you notice his lip slightly quivering. He bows his head but you can still tell he’s holding back tears. “Oh baby,” you coo softly, wanting nothing more than to wrap him in your arms and hold him against your chest, or even wipe his wet cheeks, but your injured back and sides won’t allow it.

‘You deserve to be happy too, mate,’ Steven pipes up, only making his eyes burn more. ‘Yeah man, stop shutting her out. She cares about you,’ Marc adds.

“Are you okay?”

He nods slowly, his altar’s words echoing in his mind. “Sorry princesa, I should be the one taking care of you.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. I’m glad you can be open with me.”

He looks at you with so much adoration it makes you shy. Then he gently kisses the back of your hand, “I should probably let Marc and Steven talk to you. They’re worried sick.”

“Okay, but only if you promise to visit me again, amor.”

He grins at the sound of you using his first language. “I promise, mi vida.”

____

Within a few days you’re released from the hospital. Your boyfriends insists on staying with you until you’re better.

“Alright muñeca, bed or couch?” Jake asks. “What about shower? I smell like the hospital.” You counter, leaning into his solid chest. His arm flexes around your waist as he leads (practically carries) you into the bathroom. “Do you need help, princesa?” He asks. You nod shyly.

You lean against the counter as he gingerly pulls your baggy shirt over your head, leaving your chest bare (you learnt quickly that broken ribs and bras don’t mix.) “There’s my beautiful girl,” he coos. You grin bashfully, looking away as he kneels in front of you to pull down your sweatpants and underwear, leaving a gentle kiss on your hip. “Jake!” You protest shyly with heated cheeks as he stands in front of you.

“Sorry mi vida, couldn’t resist. This is my first time undressing you, after all.” He smirks before ducking into the shower to turn it on. He strips himself before wrapping his large arms around you to help you in the shower. You let out a happy sigh as the warm water hits your sore body

“Stand still so I can wash you,” he instructs, reaching for your fruity body wash. “Wait,” you interrupt, making him freeze. “Can you use yours? I like smelling like you guys,” you sheepishly admit. It’s quiet for a moment, and you’re worried you weirded him out, when his lips brush against your ear,

“Marc wants you to know that that’s the cutest thing he’s ever heard.”

You grin at his words, trying to ignore the goosebumps left in their wake. “Tell Marc he’s cuter.”

“Alright, alright, enough flirting through me.”

You bring one of Jake's large hands to your mouth, pecking his knuckles. “Aw baby, don’t be jealous. You know I don’t play favorites with my boys.”

Jake smiles so big it makes his eyes crinkle. Suddenly belonging to someone doesn’t seem so bad, especially when they belong to you too. He wordlessly kisses your neck and reaches for their body wash. You giggle to yourself but it turns into a gasp when he puts the cold loofah on your back. “Did I hurt you?” He asks worridley, movements stilling. You shake your head softly, “no, I’m ok, just surprised me. I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

Once he’s washed your back and shoulders he helps you turn around to face him. He runs the loofah over your front, being extra careful of your broken ribs. He places intermittent kisses across your face and forehead to distract you from any discomfort, mumbling apologizes against your damp skin.

After you’re cleaned off he helps you out of the shower, running a fluffy towel across your body to dry you off. “Alright, let’s get you to bed, mi vida,” he coos as he walks you to your room and sits you on your bed. He grabs you some underwear then moves to your closet.

“What do you wanna wear?”

You immediately point to your favorite stolen item of clothing. “The black jumper.”

Jake takes it off its hanger, examining it closely. “Is this Steven’s?”

“Mhmm, I always take his clothes.” You confess as he lays it on the bed beside you.

“Well Steven isn’t the one who just helped you shower but by all means,” he grumbles to himself as he helps you pull up your panties. You playfully roll your eyes at his childness. “I already told you, baby, I don’t play favorites, it’s just that Stevie wears the comfiest shirts. And besides, I don’t have any of your clothes yet.”

“Oh, so now he’s Stevie?”

“I tried to call you Jakey and you said you didn’t like it.”

“I was lying! Obviously!”

You scoff at his unprecedented jealousy. “Just get in bed, Jakey. I want to watch Encanto.”

____

A few Disney movies later Jake leaves to get you dinner and feed Gus II and Gil. When he comes back he’s bearing gifts.

“This one’s from me,” he explains proudly, presenting an oversized Yankees shirt. “And this piece of trash is from Marc,” he groans comically, presenting a Chicago shirt. You giggle at his dramatics, making him smile proudly.

“Oh and the flowers were Steven’s ideas but I picked out the type,” he adds on, holding out a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers. If your body wasn’t in so much pain you’re sure your heart would be beating out of your chest cartoon style.

“I have the best boyfriends ever.”

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley fluff #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight fluff #moon knight #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant #moon boys

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royalelusts · 3 years

Note

Hii I need. Angst. MUHAHAHAHHAAH

anyways Tanjiro cheating on s/o with kanao

I know that girls likes him, I JUST KNOW SHE DOES

and s/o does have his child and he regrets everything’s. s/o dies or she get together with another hashira

BUT YOUR CONTENT IS SO GOOD. DO I NEED TO EXPLAIN MY SELF ??? 💞💞💞 anyways have a good day <33

anon you have me smiling at my screen <33

Tanjiro loved you. You were his pride and joy. The reason he looked forward to coming home after each mission. So why did he do it? To be quite honest he doesn’t know the answer himself. If he loved you would he have done what he did? Would he have broken the trust you had given him? It ate away at him day after day. Each smile and kiss just made him feel worse. In his defense, it wasn’t supposed to happen. Kanao had always been a close friend to Tanjiro. Hell, she was the godmother of your two sons. Meaning it was only natural for him to help her in a time of need.

When Tanjiro told you about her being injured, you urged him to visit her on both of your behalfs since you had just received a mission. Packing a bag, Tanjiro and your sons set off to Kanao’s home. He went to help around the house or just doing tasks that she oh so desperately needed his help with. He wonders how it all started. When touches began to linger, eyes wondering, imagination flying. Everything escalated the last night of their stay. The boys were fast asleep leaving Tanjiro and Kanao alone. It might’ve been the alcohol they consumed that night that really set everything off. It was as if time slowed when their lips touched for the first time. The next morning he hurriedly got himself and the boys together before leaving hoping that the events that happened the night prior would just become a distant memory.

If only that were true. Then he wouldn’t have had to see the painful tears that ran down your face when you found out. “We got married. We have two amazing sons and you do this? Did we really mean so little for you to throw it away all in one night?” No, that wasn’t the truth. Far from the truth really but could he really say that? Could he sit there and argue you mean everything to him when he did such a disdaining act? Instead, he stared at the floor, his own tears hitting the ground mumbling apologies.

Three years have passed since then. Tanjiro had respected your wishes and kept his distance no matter how much it hurt. This is why it surprised him when he saw you at a market in a village. You looked absolutely ethereal as ever. The smile he would’ve fought to see graced your lips. At your side were your sons. They had grown so much since the last time he saw them. Tanjiro almost forgot all about the events and was about to head straight toward you but something stopped him. More specifically someone. The water hashira kissed your lips softly before your sons jumped on him. “Dad! We missed you!” That’s right. How could Tanjiro forget why it was like this in the first place?

Feeling someone’s eyes on you, you turned around catching a small glimpse of Tanjiro. The grip on your basket tightened as a sigh asked you. “Is something the matter, love?” Giyuu asked with worry written all over his face. Shaking your head you smiled. “Nope. Just thought I saw someone I recognized.”

🏷: @potoostuff @babydaddyleorio @sscarchiyo @justheretoaskandread

#royal.responses #tanjiro x reader #tanjiro angst #kny x reader #kny angst #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer angst

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sacredsorceress · 3 years

Text

Green || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

summary: three times bucky realized you were more than a friend and the one time he finally admitted it (based on events from tfatws)

a/n: finishing this in time for the season finale tomorrow! reblogs and/or replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: mentions of reader wearing a short dress, jealous bucky

masterlist || request || taglist

“Nice of you guys to call me.”

Your hands in your jacket pockets, you announced your presence as you strolled up to the group of four men standing outside of the police station. You could basically feel the tension in the air as each man had a resolute expression written on all over their faces.

“What’s going on here?” You asked, slipping your hands out of your pockets and gesturing towards the group.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked.

You might have been nicer about the situation if you weren’t utterly pissed that the two men hadn’t informed you about the mission that they had gone on.

“Incase you forgot, Sam, you’re not the only one who’s had to pick up where someone else left off. It’s my job to keep track of you guys.” You said. “... Also I’m Bucky’s emergency contact.”

“Well,” The blonde man leaning against the police cruiser said. “You’re a little late. I handled it.”

Looking up at the man in front of you, you gave him no inclination of defeat.

“You must be John Walker.” You said.

“So you’ve heard of me?” He smirked.

You crossed your arms, stepping away from the man who you had seen on television playing the role of Captain America. You had heard about the decision moments before the government had first displayed the impersonator on screen, but it had been too late for you to do anything about it or to inform Sam or Bucky in time for his appearance.

“I’ve heard of everyone.” You deadpanned.

“Yeah?” He asked, standing up straighter. “And who are you?”

Just as you were about to open your mouth, you felt Bucky’s hand land on your shoulder. Turning to glance at him, you watched as he shook his head, giving you a serious look. Despite the fact that you were now tasked with keeping track of the former members of the group of Avengers and were one yourself, you had been able to keep your identity a secret. Although to the world you were “Sorceress”- the Avenger with magical powers similar to those of Wanda Maximoff- to members of the team such as Bucky you were Y/n Y/l/n.

He didn’t trust John Walker and he didn’t want to bring you into their own mess. Although Bucky had been avoiding Sam’s text messages, Bucky had kept in constant touch with you since you first met him after he had come back from the Blip six months ago- even going as far as spending time together multiple times a week in person- not because you had to keep track of him, but because the two of you genuinely enjoyed spending time together.

You were the closest thing he had to normalcy and he didn’t want the knockoff version of his best friend messing it up not only for himself, but for you too.

However, you didn’t see much of a way out of it. You weren’t going to just leave Bucky and Sam to handle the situation on their own, but you also didn’t see a way that you could work alongside them and not have John and Lemar figure out your identity sooner or later.

Gently taking Bucky’s hand off of your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before dropping it, you reached out your hand to John Walker.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” You told him. “Sorceress... and I guess the current caretaker of the Falcon and the Winter Soldier.”

Later, after the group had dispersed and you followed Sam and Bucky as they walked in the opposite direction, you were surprised when you heard Bucky’s tone of voice when he finally spoke up again.

“You shouldn’t have given him your name, Y/n.” He said.

You shrugged, hands tucked into your pockets once again. “It’s fine, Buck.” You assured him. “There wasn’t much else I could do. He was going to find out eventually-”

“Don’t act so casual about it. This is your identity- your life- and you’re just going to share it with some asshole like John Walker?”

“Woah!” You exclaimed, stopping in your spot. “What’s your problem, Buck? Why do you care so much?”

Noticing how both you and Sam were staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to comprehend why he was making such a “big deal” about it, Bucky grew embarrassed, not understanding himself why he cared so much. Rather than admitting defeat however, Bucky threw up his hands, scoffing.

“Forget it, Y/n. I don’t care. Do what you want.”

And with that he picked up the pace, walking in the opposite direction of where you and Sam stood confused in your spots.

“I couldn’t have worn something- I don’t know- a bit longer?” You called to the three men ahead of you, following them into the club as you tugged on the hem of your short dress.

“This a club in Madripoor, Y/n.” You heard Zemo say. “If you wore anything else you would be giving us away.”

Groaning you steadied yourself in your heels following behind Zemo and Sam. You slowed your pace to walk besides Bucky who had insisted on being at the back of the line behind you- telling everyone that it would be safer for everyone if he kept their backs covered.

“How are you feeling?” You asked as quietly as you could in the loud club.

“What?” He asked.

“How are you feeling? With the while Winter Soldier thing? If you don’t think you can handle it we can find another way-”

“It’s fine, Y/n.” He said. “Don’t worry about me.”

Instead of letting it go, you gently placed your hand on his exposed, vibranium arm, causing him to stop in his spot, looking at you.

“Bucky, I’m serious.” You said. “You matter too. If you can’t handle it, I’ll find a way to get the information without all of this, okay? I care about you, Buck. Just say the word.”

He almost couldn't focus on the words coming out of your mouth as he tried to keep his eyes focused on your face, rather than trailing down your body, finally noticing just how short the dress that was adorning your body was. As good as you looked in green, he swore he would kill Zemo once he got what he needed from him for dressing you in that.

As gorgeous as you were, however, your words meant everything to him and he hung on to every single one- no matter what you were saying. Hearing the sentiment that you had for him and that you would stick your neck out for him of all people made him speechless.

Just as he was about to open his mouth however, the two of you began to feel the eyes of other partygoers staring the two of you down. As soon as you noticed, you quickly snatched your hand away from his arm and continued your pace in front of him, Bucky quickly following behind.

“Distracted?” Zemo asked as Bucky stopped beside him at the bar.

Rather than answering, Bucky remained silent, falling into character with the thought of your shared interaction still playing over and over in his mind.

Coughing on his hands and knees, trying to process what had just happened, all Bucky could hear was the obnoxious sound of the alarm blaring. When he opened his eyes again he saw the shipping container now consumed with flames and illuminated with a daunting red light. Recalling what had just occurred, he scrambled to his feet, calling out for you.

“Y/n?” He called. “Y/n!”

When he didn't immediately hear your voice, he began to feel his heart race in his chest. What if something happened to you? What if you were too close to the explosion? He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something had happened to you. Just as he was beginning to start hyperventilating, the smoke catching in his chest causing him to double over and heave, he felt your hands wrap around either of his biceps.

“Buck?” You asked. “I’m- I’m so sorry. It happened so fast I couldn’t get a forcefield around everyone. Thank God you’re okay. I was so afraid something happened-”

Cutting you off, Bucky shook your hands off of his arms, instead pulling you into his arms. Although you and the super soldier had spent more quality time than you could count together prior to starting this mission, you had never hugged before, but being in his arms you couldn’t find a single complaint, instead silently wrapping your arms tightly around his torso, running your hands up and down his back.

“Hey it’s okay, Buck. I’m okay.” You said. “Let’s go, okay? Before this thing collapses on us.”

After that the two of you had followed Sam and Sharon into the area of shipping containers, taking out hitman by hitman along the way, when you had finally gotten through all of them, you watched as Zemo pulled up in a car besides the four of you.

“Nice ride.” You said as Bucky slipped into the front seat of the vehicle, yourself sliding into one of the seats in the back row.

“Thank you, Y/n.” Zemo replied, patting Bucky on the chest. “She’s a woman of taste.”

Bucky swore to himself for the second time within the past 12 hours that when given the chance he was going to kill the man beside him- with or without his therapist’s approval.

“You’re not going to move your seat up are you?” Sam asked.

“Nope.” Bucky said.

“That’s fine.” Sam conceded. “I guess I’ll just chill back here with Y/n.”

You laughed as Sam laid his arm against headrest of the backseats of the car.

“I’m fine with that.” You said. “Just me and my favorite person.”

Now Bucky knew that you were kidding, only teasing him to get a rise out of him, but glancing at the backseat and seeing Sam’s arm practically around your shoulders and you calling him your favorite person... just didn’t sit right with Bucky. Just as Zemo’s foot was about to hit the gas, Bucky shifted the car into park, swinging the door open and stepping out of the vehicle.

“What-”

“You can have the front.” Bucky said, swinging Sam’s door open.

“It’s really okay, Buck-”

“You said you wanted more space so you can have the front.” He said. “Go sit in the front.”

You watched as Sam turned to you, quirking his eyebrows before shrugging and stepping out of the car, switching to the passenger seat. You almost wanted to laugh as you watched Bucky squeeze into the backseat behind the passenger seat, his knees practically up against his chest.

“You good?” You asked.

Despite the groan that had involuntarily escaped his mouth from the discomfort of the front seat digging into his knees, Bucky nodded, stretching his arm out across the backseat, behind your shoulders.

“I’m great.” He assured you. “Now drive, Zemo.”

Although you didn’t catch it, the two men sitting in the front seat- despite their differences- couldn’t help but throw each other a knowing look before the car took off for their next destination.

“Hey!” Torres called. “I see you got your sleeve back!”

You chuckled as you turned to glance at the man stood beside you. Despite it being a joke, not a single hint of a smile cracked the man’s hard exterior. The only reason he didn’t walk out of the room on the spot was because you were standing beside him.

“He’s just in a bad mood today.” You said, reaching your hand out to shake Torres’. “I’m Y/n.”

Taking your hand and shaking it in his, he furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you doing hanging around these guys?” He asked. “...Not that you can’t handle yourself! Sam just won’t even invite me on these things.”

Pulling your hand away from his, you smiled. “Think you can keep a secret?”

As soon as you asked the question you watched as the confusion written all over his face grew even more and you could hear Sam chuckling in the background.

“I’m Sorceress.” You said. “Like the Avenger? I just try to keep my identity pretty secret, you know?”

As soon as you revealed your identity to him, you watched as the man’s face dropped and he turned to look at Sam who was standing behind him.

“Wait- she’s-” Torres stuttered.

Sam nodded, laughing.

“Yep.” Sam said. “She’s the one you’ve been hounding me about setting you up with.”

Although you weren’t paying attention to him, Bucky had already disliked how the conversation was going- finding Torres to be a little too friendly for his liking and not loving that you exposed your identity to him immediately- but when he heard Sam’s confession, he stiffened in his spot, hands balling into fists at his side.

“What? Dude!” Torres exclaimed, glancing back and forth between you and Sam before finally turning back to you, chuckling nervously. “He's just kidding! I would never have a crush on you- wait! That came out wrong! Not that you’re not pretty because you are- I just think you’re cool-”

You continued laughing as the man stumbling over his words in front of you, finding it endearing until you heard the super soldier scoff beside you. You glanced at him only to see him cross his arms while rolling his eyes before making his way out of the room.

Turning back to Torres you gave him a quick smile, pulling a card out of your pocket. “I have to go, but it was nice to meet you Torres. If these boys get in trouble again, make sure to call me first thing, okay?”

He took the card from your hand, nodding. “Uh yeah- yeah! Of course!”

With that you waved to both him and Sam before following the path Bucky had taken out of the room seconds before.

Seeing his figure pacing across the room, you threw your arms up in the air.

“What’s your problem?” You asked.

Stopping in his spot he turned to face you.

“What?” He said. “I don’t have a problem.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, crossing your arms.

“Uh yeah. You do.” You said. “Did I do something to piss you off or something? Are you mad at me for coming on the mission? Because I’m sorry if I wanted to help save the world and make sure you guys didn’t get killed in the process.”

Bucky just stopped and stared at you standing across from him with your arms crossed. He hated to admit it, but you look pissed at him. It hurt knowing that you were upset with him, but it hurt a little more knowing that you felt as though he was mad at you when in actuality that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Y/n.” He said, stepping closer to you. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Then why did you just storm out of the room?” You asked.

He couldn’t think of a reason besides the truth. He could lie and say that he was mad at you, but that wouldn’t solve the situation for anyone and could possibly strain your relationship farther- and that was the last thing he could possibly want.

The two of you stood there in silence, staring at one another as Bucky attempted to find the words in his head to ease your concern without exposing himself in the process.

But you were never one to back down with him.

“Bucky,” You said. “What’s the problem? What did I do? Why are you so angry-”

“Because I don’t like the way that guy was talking to you!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.

“What?” You asked. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky realized he was in it now. He couldn’t see a way out of it.

For the past week, Bucky couldn’t help but notice that he cared for you a bit more than friends should. Maybe he always did. He thought back to the times he would eagerly await your weekly lunches or the comfort he felt when you took him furniture shopping after seeing his empty apartment for the first time. He thought back to the times you would show up outside of his door when he was upset because you were the only person he trusted there with him in those intimate moments- he knew that you were more than just his colleague, but he realized now that you were more than his friend.

Recently it became more obvious, the burning in his chest he felt when others became a little too comfortable with you- he attempted to mask it with just wanting to protect you, but he knew you could handle yourself. He was protective over you so he wouldn’t lose you.

Just when you opened your mouth to speak again, he cupped your face in his hands. He watched as your eyes widened, but didn’t make any move to stop him. When he caught your eyes trailing from his eyes to his lips, he pulled you towards him, meeting your lips in the middle.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t kissed anyone in eighty years, but he had never felt the way he had in that moment before. He was so utterly consumed in you- the feeling of your hands reaching for his jacket, tugging him closer as you deepened the kiss, your soft lips against his, your warm breath against his face- he was lost in it.

When you finally pulled away, he didn’t want to let go, but leaned back anyway, staring at his world- you- that he now held in his hands.

“Buck...”

“I think I like you more than a friend.” He confessed.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face at his words. You had always cared for Bucky as more than just your former fellow Avenger, but knowing that he felt the same as you was something you could hardly believe.

“I think I do too.” You laughed, then recalled what you had come in there for in the first place. “James, were you... were you jealous?”

Thinking back over the past week the two of you had spent together on the mission, he could almost laugh at the question you had just asked.

“You’re joking, right?” He chuckled. “Yeah. You could say I was a little bit jealous.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #Bucky Barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes angst

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kwritingbooks · 2 years

Text

concept: you decided the ending fate of you two’s 3 year long relationship. but now that it’s gone, why are you the one who’s sad and harry is perfectly fine? so fine that he’s already in a new relationship three months later?

three years, the prologue // impulse, part I // regret, part II

pairing: ex-boyfriend!harry and fem!reader

warnings: cursing, angst angst angst

word count: 8.5k

author’s note: it took me like 50 years to get it all finished, but it's here! this is the third (and final) part to the jealousy series. i really wanted to get into the pure angst that i wanted for this series (without going overboard) so i hope all my angst-lovers are buckled in and ready. and thank you to everyone who's been patient and sent me such nice messages about jealousy or if you're even just reading/sharing it! it's all appreciated so much. thank you <3

read on wattpad here + tumblr masterlist

admittance

To you, it felt like it had been an eternity since he left. In reality, it had been more like an hour. At least that was what your phone read, but even then you had a hard time believing it. Its numbers twirled around the screen, fighting against your mind. It was a losing battle you were in the middle of as your eyes blurred around the rims as the tears came to the surface.

It wasn't how you wanted it to go. You had yet to move from the spot he left you in, which was rushed and angered. He was angered at you.

The last thing you wanted was for it to end in an argument, but that was exactly what happened. You were so close to having sex. Your pants were thrown on the floor, your underwear pulled to the side. It all happened so fast that it took you for a whirl when he stopped suddenly.

His heavy breaths stopped as he looked at you up and down, laying out underneath him. It took you completely off guard as he stared you in the eyes for a moment longer than what made you comfortable. You opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, but then he quickly climbed off of you. The feeling of his skin against yours was stolen away as you heard his zipper pull up.

"I can't do this, Y/N," he sighed as he continued to fidget with his pants.

Your eyes shot over to him, your eyebrows furrowed with a slight drop of your jaw. This couldn't be happening. Things felt so normal again but was taken away as if it meant nothing.

"What? What do you mean?" you stammered out.

All you felt was embarrassment as you blindly roamed your hands along the floor for your pants. They quickly slid over your bare legs, hiding as much of your body he was once over as quickly as possible. You wanted to hide underneath your clothes and pretend as if none of this happened at all.

Pure embarrassment.

"It's not fair," he stated plainly. He ran his fingers through his hair as he searched around the room for any other belongings.

It was too bad he was going to forget the one belonging you wanted him to take: you.

You sat up on the couch, your brows now furrowed for a different reason—anger.

It wasn't fair?

"Not fair? To who? Nadine? You barely fucking know her, Harry!" You stood up to your feet as he walked to the other side of the room where the box laid. "What about fair for me? Huh?"

He sighed loudly, "I don't want to do this with you right now, Y/N." He pulled the box underneath his arm and it only made your anger burn deeper.

"Well it's true! Why don't you see that?" Your lip quivered and you cursed at yourself for letting him make you feel this emotional again. You were so tired of feeling like this, or letting him have so much control over that side of you. It was like everything you had bottled up since the beginning could no longer be kept inside. The anger, the sadness, the anxiety—it was ripping at the seams of your emotional state. He knew just how to poke at it to let it flow so freely.

And yet, all of this spun from the fact you couldn't just admit defeat. You couldn't admit your truth to him. Not out loud. You didn't want to be wrong.

That was probably the saddest part of all.

He spun quickly around, his jaw twitching with his own irritation. "Do I need to remind you that you ended this, Y/N? Or do you just never consider the consequences of your own fucking actions? Hm? This is what you wanted! You did this!" His pointed his finger at you with his words and each syllable felt like a gunshot wound.

You felt stunned by his words but not because you were insulted. What he said was true and you didn't have an argument against it. He knew he was right, too, so you couldn't even play dumb about it. The inside of your cheek laid victim between your teeth as you harshly bit down, as to fight against the swelling of tears. Anything to take your attention away from what was disappearing further from your grasp right in front of you.

Fuck.

He didn't say anything else as he walked out of the living room. You didn't say anything either as you watched him fade out down the hallway before eventually disappearing behind the door. The click of the door closing triggered the inevitable stream of tears to fall down your cheeks, allowing your emotions to finally burst through the seams. You buried your face into your hands as your muffled cries were the only things heard in your empty apartment.

You cried until you couldn't cry anymore—until everything felt numb.

Since then, it had been nothing but silence as you sat unmoved from where he left you. It was as if your eyes had glazed over, forgetting how to properly function. There was no need to blink, to breathe, to feel.

You did all of those things enough. It seemed your world stopped moving around you, so you stopped moving along with it, too. It was only fair. It was what you deserved, right? After what you did to you two's relationship? You knew it. Even Harry knew it.

Your fingers tightened against the side of the couch, as if igniting yourself back to life. Your head drooped between your shoulders with your eyes squeezed shut. It felt painful to move as everything appeared to be working against you. Your bones didn't want to contort with your muscles, your lungs didn't want to expand, and your heart didn't even want to beat.

"Fuck," you whispered harshly under your breath.

A familiar twinkle of silver glistened in your direction, catching your eye immediately. It was Harry's "S" ring that was supposed to be returned to him. It was the hardest to part from as it felt like the last piece you had left of him that meant anything anymore. His last name would really never be yours, would it?

You didn't blame him. You couldn't.

But why did he leave it? Those initial rings meant so much to him. You figured he would be happiest of all to get that back, but it was all he left after his disappearance. And you knew he had to have seen it before he left, he looked all around for missing items. You were just too awestruck to notice him potentially glancing over anything.

Did he do it on purpose? Did he just want an excuse to talk to you one more time? Or were you too wrapped up in wishful thinking that you were becoming borderline delusional?

You reached over to the coffee table where the ring laid, mocking you. Mocking the fact that someone could be so close in one way but farther than ever another way.

You never realized how depressing it would be to hold something so small. The coldness of the material cooled against your fingertips as you examined it closer. Emotions began to flood to the surface again as you held it tightly in your palm.

This is what you wanted! You did this!

His words cut deep as they repeated throughout your head, serving as even more of a constant reminder of how you fucked up everything good in your life. You just never thought Harry would get caught up in it, too. Now all that was left was the painful twirl of jealousy running through you, even though you felt like you didn't deserve the feeling at all.

A tear fell down suddenly from one of your eyes, and soon came the downpour all over again. Your knuckles turned white from your intense clutch against the couch as your breath sputtered from the influx of sobs.

Your lungs strained to keep up, and it burned. Oh, how everything burned. You might as well have torched your insides with the way it all felt. It might have hurt less that way, too.

Loneliness was at the forefront of your mind. Harry was always the one who would help soothe your worried mind, your sad mind, your overwhelmed mind. Now, it felt like you had no one. You felt so isolated all because you were too scared to talk to one of your best friends over this.

But, you were desperate. You knew she needed to know, and through your own self pitying—you needed her to know, too.

You needed to talk to her before it was too late.

For the past twenty minutes, you had been parked in front of the coffee shop you told Lana to meet you at this morning. It hadn't even been a full 24 hours since what had happened with Harry, but it wouldn't have felt any better if you waited any longer anyway.

You got there early knowing that it would take you awhile to will yourself out of the car. You were proud enough that you got out of bed and into a fresh pair of clothes, but that was only one step out of the many. You had a whole mountain to climb in front of you.

When you invited her to grab coffee with you this morning, you did it impulsively. You had to. If you thought about it, then you wouldn't have sent the text to begin with. Deep down, you knew you had to just get it over with. You didn't want to do it, but you had to. If she was in your situation, you would want her to talk to you, too.

But that didn't help the anxieties you felt inside your body. You had never been so scared—scared that you would lose another important person in your life. You were victim to your own active mind. Constantly.

Truthfully, you didn't think that she would be angry enough to never want to speak to you again, but you were terrified to get your hopes up that that wasn't still a possibility. You wanted to prepare for the worst. Just in case.

Your eyes darted to your car radio, letting you know that any minute now you would get the inevitable text that Lana had arrived. You parked a bit towards the back of the parking lot in hopes that it would slightly conceal your early arrival. It also gave a perfect view of the lot's entrance, so no surprises could happen.

"Here."

There it was in all its glory. All four letters glared back at you in a blinding manner. You stared for so long that it almost didn't feel real, as if the letters were either dancing or playing a disappearing act like the previous morning. It almost left your mind that it was Lana who had texted you and the reason why you were in a parking lot in the first place. You needed to get up. There was no going back now, no matter how much your body didn't want to move from the position that it was so comfortably in—hidden.

Before you stepped inside the shop, you made sure to give yourself a quick once-over in the mirror. A quick swipe of mascara was caked onto your lashes, which was a slight change to the withered look it had grown accustomed to for awhile. You tried to cover up the dark circles underneath your eyes, but concealer could only do so much for the puffiness of crying. It was good enough for the time being.

And while your appearance was more put together than it was last night, you still didn't look like yourself. But, you didn't feel like yourself either. Everything that had accumulated between those few months of separation had seemed to wear away at your character, your personality, your self-respect.

Everything.

The worst part was that it wasn't always like this. It wasn't like this initially after your breakup, and it wasn't like this even a month or two after the breakup either. Granted, you never quite got rid of that little voice in the back of your head whispering that you made a mistake, but you were able to push it down. You ignored it. Or at least you thought you did.

It was her that made everything tumble underneath itself. In reality, though, none of it was her fault. You knew that, too. It was like playing a broken record, but it still hurt the same as every other time. That pain of acknowledging your fuck up didn't get any better. You were even tired of repeating it back to yourself.

I did this.

How could he find someone new so quickly?

Why is it bothering me like this all of a sudden?

What did she have that I didn't?

I did this.

It was always the same, but it never went away after seeing her for the first time.

Maybe there really was a point in the whole "don't bottle things up" rhetoric that people talked about. You were finally starting to understand it now, because it felt like a volcano that was ready to erupt at any moment. It didn't even matter the consequences anymore, because there was no other option other than to talk about it. That voice in the back of your mind was no longer a whisper, it was yelling at the top of its lungs saying, "Do you believe me now? I told you that you still loved him! He was always the one!"

It was also what made you realize that you had more than just Lana to talk to. You had to talk to Harry again, too. You tried yesterday, but you knew that conversation hardly went anywhere. Nothing was solved and you felt just as bad as you had to begin with. Honestly, you felt worse. It only teased the feeling of having him around again in the home you once shared together. It reminded you what his skin felt against yours, how his body once towered over you with his hot breaths against your cheeks. That was all it did—teased you.

The thought of talking to him about it all made your stomach do flips that you didn't even know it could do. That was genuinely the last thing you wanted to do. You didn't even know what exactly to say. Did you truly believe you were making the right decision at the time? That you thought you had lost feelings for him? Yes, you did. You thought a lot of things, but somehow it was missing the point. You thought it was about your surroundings and relationships outside of you, but that was way too simplistic. You never stopped loving him, but in the midst of losing yourself in a funk, you thought you did.

But, like you said before, you just needed to take it one step at a time.

Things are capable of being fixed, right?

Right?

Your heart felt jumpy as you braced yourself for the front door. The large windows that were aligned along the walls showcased the variety of individuals inside. Each of them looked busied with their tasks in their own little world. Some were laughing amongst their table, others had their brows furrowed into their laptop screens. Your eyebrows furrowed on their own accord as you walked closer, unable to see the familiar person that had just texted that they were inside. Your eyes darted to each corner as you approached the door, swinging them open to welcome you inside.

That was when Lana walked from the back, presumably from the bathroom. You heard the faint echo of an employee welcoming you in, but you were too zoned in on the girl who had no idea you were across the room from her. It only took a couple more steps inside for her to be alerted, and a wide smile immediately plastered on her face as she waved.

Shockingly, you couldn't help but smile back just as wide. There was always something about her that made you feel so at peace, even in your most vulnerable and uncomfortable state.

"Hey lovey!" She said as she walked closer to you, pulling you into a hug. You couldn't help but notice the warm scent of perfume mixing with the coffee shop's fragrance as she held you close.

"Hey Lana." It took a great amount of effort to sound as chipper as you could, and in your opinion, you thought you did pretty good. It must have been good enough for her not to question it, because she pulled away with the same smile that had yet to fade since seeing you. She even walked with you to the counter as you observed the drink menu.

"I got the matcha latte. I heard their recipe is different from the one across from my house that I always go to, and I was never a big fan of their matcha anyway so I wanted to give this one a try." She continued to mindlessly ramble about the differences between the different matcha undertone flavors and other things you didn't quite understand, but you nodded your head accordingly to seem like you did. Anything to shift the focus off of you for as long as you could.

"I think I'm just going to go with a regular blonde roast coffee. No creamer or anything," you said with a smile towards the cashier. You could feel Lana's eyes peer at you from the side that she stood and you pretended you didn't notice it. It didn't last long as you handed your money in exchange for the receipt. You figured Lana wouldn't mention anything after ordering her own, perhaps she wouldn't think twice about it, but that wasn't the case.

"Black coffee? Since when did Y/N order plain black coffee?" Lana scoffed with a scrunched nose. She reached the back of her hand up to your forehead as you continued to walk to your booth. "Are you feeling alright? Because the Y/N that I know would rather drop dead than have a unsweetened coffee." She paused for a moment, almost dropping the topic but turned back around again. "Like not even one packet of sugar?"

"Light roast isn't that strong anyway." You cracked a small smile as you shrugged your shoulders, slumping yourself into the booth. "Just not feeling it today I guess."

She eyed you carefully, but averted her attention back to her own creamy, green drink on the table. She hummed softly into the cup, peeking back up at you slightly before holding it close to her chest.

"Everything okay?" She asked in a cautious tone, like she was trying to not pry but also knew something wasn't right.

You sat there silent for a moment, using your drink as an excuse as to not have an immediate reply. You took multiple sips as you thought. How were people supposed to talk about these things? What was the first thing that you were supposed to say?

You placed it down on the table with your hands still wrapped on either side of the mug. You could feel the caffeine already taking affect inside which was the little boost you were in desperate need for.

Just say something.

"Have you talked to Harry recently?" Was all that your brain thought to blurt out. Her eyebrows twitched suddenly but relaxed back to normal. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed her fingers fidgeted together from her lap onto the table, and she suddenly looked like she was nervous. Or maybe it was a face of concern, you weren't sure. She did have a tendency to pick at her cuticles when she got nervous, which was exactly what she was doing as she looked at you. You hated having her eyes on you this intensely; she was trying to read you and your body language. It even made you nervous—or at least more nervous than what you already were.

"Haven't since yesterday, why?" She had neglected her cup from her hands as she adjusted herself in the seat. It was as if she had forgotten you guys were even there to drink coffee, completely engulfed in your new topic of interest now. The previously anxious appearance across her features had been replaced by an unmistakable look of concern now. You weren't sure who or what she was concerned about entirely yet. That was the most anxiety-inducing part of it all.

Your attention had focused on the table, looking along the lines of the wood as a distraction. Your words weren't forming in the way you needed them to. You were at a loss on how to keep going, but you had already started digging the hole, and there was no way to get out of it now.

"Y/N?" Lana edged her head lower to meet your gaze, causing your eyes to trail up to her. She had a soft, reassuring smile on her lips as she reached a hand out to yours. "What's up?"

You bit at your lip as you felt your heart begin to race. You shrugged your shoulders again.

"I've done something stupid."

It surprised you slightly when you heard her laugh, but you relaxed when the tone of her laugh didn't resemble a mocking tone.

"We all do stupid things, Y/N," she said with her hand still rested on your arm, "I'm guessing this is about Harry?" She drew back suddenly, laying her back against the booth. You looked up at her, watching as she brought the steaming cup back up to her lips. The smile was hard to fight against. Her soft eyes looking back at you was like a breath of relief. While you hadn't said anything specific, it was a nice reminder that she was still one of your best friends. Even if she was also one of Harry's.

She was still one of yours.

"You still love him?"

Her words caught you off guard, and you were fortunate that you hadn't taken a drink of your coffee when she said it. You would have surely choked on it, causing a scene for the whole coffee shop to witness.

You nodded your head, "Yeah."

"I know."

You raised an eyebrow, "You do?"

She laughed again, "I mean, yeah. Just because I'm drunk when I see you guys around together at parties, doesn't mean I don't see the look in both of your eyes still. The love never left, just...," she trailed off for a second, trying to find the right words, "...got misplaced."

Misplaced.

That was a word for it. Misplaced meant it could be found again. Misplaced meant that it didn't have to be lost forever, but just for a time.

"We almost had sex yesterday," you blurted out. You didn't look her in the eyes when you said it, but instead brought the cup immediately to your lips again.

A small, choking sputter came from her. "Wait, really? How'd that happen? Doesn't he have a girlfriend?"

Just hearing the word girlfriend made your stomach twist for a multitude of reasons. The biggest reason being from pure jealousy. You finally came to terms that that was the main culprit to how you were feeling. You were never really one to feel that emotion, let alone let yourself get overwhelmed by it. You figured that was why you thought you were okay the first couple of months after the breakup. There were always little twinges of it here and there when you would see how well off he was doing, but you had never felt the punch in the gut like you did when you saw her face with his for the first time.

That was when you knew.

"I had some of his stuff still and he came by to get it," you replied plainly. You withheld some of the more interesting details, knowing she was going to ask about them anyway. The way her eyes met yours told you that as well. She raised her eyebrows at you, as if to silently command you to keep going just like you expected.

So. You told her. You didn't leave out anything. You didn't leave out the fact that he had texted you while you were getting dinner with her—which she made a loud "aha!" noise to. She swore that she noticed that something was off that day that was more than just a normal hangover. You even confessed about the Noah thing, which she was not at all phased by. You weren't surprised by that, though. You were a creature of habit and that wasn't your first instance.

But, she listened. She heard you without accusing you of anything. It was exactly what you needed in that moment. Your problems didn't seem as colossal as they did originally because of it. It was your breath of fresh air amidst the inner chaos.

But that breath was halted the second you looked up.

You had to be seeing things. Of course the second you finally felt a brush of relief, it was interrupted by the familiar brown waves of hair currently getting swept by the gust of wind as he opened the coffee shop's door.

"Lana?" You voiced in a hushed, but stern, tone.

She looked down at you with a bit of skepticism from your change in demeanor. "Yeah?"

"Please tell me that's not fucking Harry coming in right now," you quipped through clenched teeth, lowering your head down behind hers as if that would properly conceal your identity.

You peeked your eyes up at her and her face had changed from the last time you had seen her moments ago. Instead of the empathetic and understanding look from before, it was now replaced with something of confusion. Her attention whipped behind her and her skin tone looked paler than it did before when she turned back around.

You propped your head back up from hiding as you looked at her in disbelief. "Did you do this on purpose?"

She paused for a second as she darted her eyes back and forth between yours. She looked just as shocked as you did as she shook her head no.

"No, I had no idea," she spit out and looked one last time behind her, presumably to make sure she also wasn't seeing things, "He asked what I was doing this morning and I said I was stopping by here. That was all. I didn't tell him to actually come here."

"Did Harry tell you all of this already? Did he know I was going to be here with you?" You spoke roughly. You could tell from your peripherals that Harry had started walking in the same direction, and you were unsure whether or not he knew you were there yet. Maybe hiding behind her head was working after all—except now he was about to be just as surprised as you were moments ago when the door opened for the first time.

Your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might either jump out of your chest or stop altogether. You had no idea how to react or how to leave the situation without being very obviously spotted. There was no easy exit out of it. You were going to have to either wait until he also spotted you, or leave and have him spot you that way, too.

"I'm really sorry, I didn't expect him to actually come here, too. I thought he just wanted to see if I was free earlier," she whispered quickly in my direction. "Do you want me to tell him to go? I can."

Her offer sounded reasonable, but somehow that didn't seem fair at the same time.

You shook your head, sitting up a little more as you gathered your purse. "No, it's okay. I'm just going to go. I need to clear my head a little anyway," you stammered out. Your fingers trembled slightly as it reached for the cup, but you were moving so quickly that you didn't think Lana could have noticed. The most important thing on your mind was getting out of the building as fast as you could manage.

You were sure that your eyes still had the leftover puffiness from the night of crying fits prior to this. You were supposed to be the one that seemed un-phased by everything and this was completely crushing that façade that you had worked so hard to upkeep. You didn't need to keep up with the act when you were around Lana, but you didn't expect any of this happening either. This wasn't in the plan.

"I'll call you later, okay?" You mumbled under your breath, scooting yourself out of the booth.

Your coffee cup felt heavier than ever in your hand as you tried to weave yourself through the various seated tables. Extra careful steps had to be in place as you attempted to keep yourself steady around each of the strangers—but particularly the person who you had so much history with only a few feet away. He might as well have been just as much a stranger as everyone else anyway.

You darted your anxious eyes to Harry who had stopped in his tracks from your sudden appearance. Your eyes closed for a moment as you gauged the situation on where to focus next. It felt like entrapment, but entrapment that no one was aware of. Entrapment by and to yourself. Your eyes shifted back to the ground just as quickly as you made it towards the door.

You heard Lana call your name once, but when you didn't turn around, you figured she got the message and didn't try again. She sounded worried, but there was nothing you could do in that moment to ease her concerns when you had your own to deal with at that moment. You just needed a breather from it all. Even just for a little bit.

Everyone's eyes seemed to be on you as you walked out with your head down. You were sure not to look behind you even for a second in fear that you would accidentally meet the gaze of Harry's behind those windows. It would have been too much. Even just those few seconds earlier had almost been too much given the surprise of it. You had no preparation beforehand. That was the primary issue.

The bells rang as your pushed through the doors, taking a deep breath of the outdoor air the second you stepped outside. For a few moments, you just stood there right by the door. Each breath didn't feel like a good enough one, constantly searching for the sensation of relief. Eventually, you noticed your heart rate start to slow down and your breathing even back out.

The bells rang again, alerting you to step out of the way for other exiting customers. You offered a hushed "excuse me" as they brushed past, chuckling amongst themselves about something you weren't sure. The couple of friends walked down the sidewalk with their to-go cups in hand and you couldn't help but sigh. Sigh at the sight of simplicity that life could be but often wasn't.

You needed to distract yourself with your art. Something you hadn't done in so long because you had no desire to even look at it. Your paint brushes and supplies had laid dormant for so long, only to collect dust from the neglect. It seemed like a perfect description of how you had taken care of yourself recently as well, if just from the neglect of embracing and enjoying time by yourself—your hobbies.

You considered walking straight to your car and driving to the studio, but it also was only a few blocks away. The enclosure of being in a car wasn't something you wanted to deal with. What you needed was to be surrounded by the freshness of outside, floating you along the way to your destination. Outside had an assortment of distractions, whether from people-watching, animal-watching, or even cloud-watching. The options were endless of busying your mind with anything else that didn't involve the past few months, let alone past 24 hours.

So, that was what you did.

Each pebble you stepped over purposely felt like a boulder underneath the sole of your shoe. Each bird sang a song that had its own rhythm and meaning behind it. Each car fought to get to their destination before the others. Each person had their own back story that you took time to meticulously plan out for them. Each thing had their own story that you curated for it, whether living or not. Nothing mattered, yet everything mattered at the same time.

That was what art was all about. Creating your own realities. It was escapism in its purest form.

There were benefits to wasting so many hours of your life in this studio you now stood in front of. So many hours of passions were built by you inside that building. You got to know the people that also shared the same form of escapism as you in it as well, whether by painting, drawing, or sculpting away in their own style. You knew people by their name, including the owner, Saffron.

You had been there from practically the beginning. Once you started showing up, it was hard for you to stop. Whenever you and Harry had an argument, it was often the first place you went to if you had the chance. The music in the background that looped the same melancholic songs had given you so much solaceness over the year or two that you had started coming. Saffron provided the bridge to find that comfort among the mess. It was found through the art.

They even gave you the keycode to come in any time that you wanted, under the guise that you would clean up after yourself. Not that you would ever consider leaving a mess for others to clean up, but you were beyond grateful that they were willing to trust you with their prized possession of the studio. It had even turned into a small job on the side where they started to pay you for little duties around the shop. It was perfect, to say the least. You enjoyed every last bit to it.

Today was the first day you had utilized the opportunity in so long, even after all the texts you received from Saffron asking how you were doing. Busy was always your excuse, and Saffron eventually stopped sending the texts. You figured she got the message underneath. While you hated it, everything else was too overwhelming to pay it much mind.

The first step inside the building was almost like walking into a faint memory. The music still lulled in the background, dancing around your ears as you took another step in. The familiar clang of the door shutting brought you back completely, consuming you with the remembrance of all the times you had stood in that exact spot with creativity pooling out of you, ready to create.

As you inhaled the air, the different smells of paint skirted around. It was as if you could smell the scent of each of the colors that it belonged to. The reds swirled differently than the blues, but they all morphed together to create their own mixtures at the same time. It was a sense of comfort that you had long forgotten about. You were excited to have that feeling soar back through your body, ready to create something on paper that could encapsulate what you were feeling inside. The fact no one had to understand it besides you was the biggest comfort. It was for you and by you. That was it.

You had the vision in mind, but you wanted the bristles to move on their own accord with their own goal in mind. Your hands would speak where your words fell. It started out as mindless swipes but soon gained shape as they continued to work. The silhouette of a figure that reminisced your own began to form through the rubble and debris in the background. She was floating in the air, untouched by anything around her.

A tired expression was riddled between the muddied features as an arm outstretched down below. Out of frame, another reached for her grasp to help her back down, but something in the distance was keeping the hand's owner planted firmly in his position. The resistance caused the colors to fade, telling the story of a girl who could not be brought back down—led only to vanish into the sky above.

To a passerby, you were sure that it would have looked a mess to them. They would probably rummage their brain through an assortment of questions. It was a quick painting, as if it would have physically pained you if you took your time on it. It was begging to come out of you, so much so that it was like your hands couldn't keep up with the pace of your brain.

It was a mess, but that was a perfect example of what it felt like inside of you.

A mess. A huge mess that was hard to distinguish with the untrained eye.

But that was why you loved it, and why you stood a few feet away as you admired it, in awe with your ability to capture exactly what you felt like. If it was perfect then it wouldn't have felt right. It was meant to have mistakes and smears along the edges.

You wiped a small mist of sweat that had accumulated at the top of your forehead with the back of your hand as you continued to stare at the details of your work. You weren't sure how long it had been, but about an hour was your guess. It was beautiful how such little time allowed you to process your emotions.

It was jealousy. It was denial. It was resentment. It was acceptance of all of the emotions.

"Y/N?"

You shot your focus over your canvas, now towards the door. The guy who you had just practically run away from was standing in the doorway, and you mentally cursed at yourself for leaving it unlocked in the first place. You must have been too engulfed in the idea of painting that it didn't cross your mind. Even more engulfed that you didn't hear the usual noise of the door swinging open.

Either way, it didn't matter. It was too late now. Now you had to deal with it head-on. You couldn't paint this image away.

Before you would have wished that the Earth could have split open to suck you underneath with it, but now you felt more equipped to deal with the consequences of your actions. The acceptance of all of the emotions you were feeling felt like a breath of fresh air in and of itself. Coming to terms with it was something you thought you had done but were actually so far from. It wasn't fully there, but it was the first real leap you had made.

It was progress to get where you needed, whatever that meant now.

You shut your eyes for a moment before answering, "Yeah?"

"Let's take a walk," he encouraged.

You considered your options again, but this time running didn't overtake your mind. You two used to go on walks all the time together. It was almost a ritual—and one you missed on every Sunday after those three years.

And even though it was a ritual for those three years, it felt like so much time had been wasted but not enough at the same time. The both of you walked in silence for what felt like hours at first, looking around at the scenery passing by. Every now and then someone walking their dog would walk by and you would smile to yourself until you remembered who was only a few inches away from you, completely wiping away that smile as if it never existed.

Deep down, you wanted to be angry. Angry at Lana for not being more specific. Angry at Harry for randomly showing up. But you couldn't. While you didn't want to admit it, in an odd way, you were glad that it happened. Albeit, while it could've happened a little more gracefully, the end result was good enough. Except all you wanted was answers to questions you couldn't quite form yet.

"You didn't tell her anything, did you?" Your eyes followed along the sidewalk that you walked on, watching your feet step on each little pebble and crack that was sprinkled along the way. That was where your gaze stayed for majority of the walk so far, too afraid to look up. If you had known that this would have been happening when you saw Lana, you would have probably made sure that you didn't look as much of a mess as you did. Maybe you could've put ice underneath your eyes or something.

"No" he muttered lowly. You could feel his eyes back on you for a moment when he responded, but he quickly averted it back towards whatever else he was looking at beforehand.

"Why'd you show up?" You brought your head up to his for the first time since without thinking. He caught your eyes for a brief moment before you swiftly shifted ahead of you.

"I just wanted to talk to her. I didn't know you would be there with her. She didn't say that part."

You didn't say anything else after that for awhile and neither did he. You both walked silently side-by-side, pretending like neither of you had anything to say. You knew there had to be more going on in his head. It was either that conclusion or the conclusion that he didn't care and you were the only one going through crazy loops in your head. You couldn't be the only one confused by everything. That couldn't be right.

It just couldn't.

The ring he had left in your apartment yesterday was moving around in your pocket as you continued to place one foot in front of the other against the pavement. Your hand slipped inside, clutching it one last time in your palm before lifting it to view.

"Here. You left this," you mumbled as your hand unraveled in front of you. You looked at the silver jewelry against your skin and you twisted your head to his, dropping them into his hand. The slight brushing of your fingers against his palm sent a shiver down your spine, and you almost dropped it from the surprise.

He distantly peered at the glistening object, almost as if in a faint daze for a moment. Quickly, he closed his hands around the piece and dropped it into his jacket pocket. He kept his hand rested inside and you wondered if he kept it gripped tightly in his hand as you had so often before.

"Did you mean any of it?" Harry softly spoke. His tone was enough to make you want to hide forever if that meant you never had to hear that hurt again.

"Harry..." you trailed off but had to take a deep breath to keep yourself centered, "I have so much to say. I'm sorry. You meant the world to me and you still do. You always will. This was all my fault and I'm sorry."

"Then why did you do it?" You heard him say as he kicked some piece of rubble in front of him. Your eyes darted to the victim of his shoe and let yourself get distracted by it for a moment.

You needed this conversation. It was a conversation you had been begging to have. You wished you hadn't royally fucked it up so much as you did and you wouldn't have even had to have it to begin with.

"I don't know. Guilty maybe," you started but paused. It all felt impossible to get out. You knew once it started, it wouldn't be easy to stop. You were scared what would come out in the process of the overflow.

Yet, you continued. You had to.

"I was a shitty girlfriend and the guilt of it ate away at me, I guess. I knew I didn't deserve you and I still don't. In her, I see everything I should have been for you. I should have never pushed you away. I should've never shut you out. But I did it and I regret it. I thought I didn't, but I did. I do now."

You didn't notice you had stopped walking until you felt a hand rest on the back of your shoulder. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your knees threatened to buckle underneath you. The Earth felt unstable for you to be on. Everything felt unsteady.

Your hands had flung to your face, concealing the identity of who you were.

"Y/N, it's okay," you heard in a faint coo beside you. He had moved both of you to a bench nearby. You could only imagine how embarrassing the scene you created was. You supposed you would just stack it onto the pile of apologies you already owed him.

"It's not okay, Harry. I fucked up. I hurt you. I lied to myself. I thought it was our relationship that was the problem, but it was me. It was always me," you muffled out into your palm. You were trying your best to not cry in public, which was proving more and more difficult as the more realizations passed by. The tears that threatened to poke out were staying subdued enough for the moment, but you weren't sure how long you could keep it up at this rate.

Harry's hand had yet to leave your back as he rubbed small circles with his thumb. He didn't say anything besides small shushes to calm you down. You almost resented yourself for letting that calm you so well. No matter the severity of the panic attack you had in the past, you found the pure comfort in his touch. He never had to say anything. He knew there was nothing to say in your moments of being overwhelmed. His touch was all he needed to offer.

It was all you ever needed. In this lifetime and the next, as long as he was there to do so.

"Y/N, look at me," Harry whispered calmly. His hand retracted from your back as you heard him sit up more straight. Your fingers twitched lightly against your face, fighting to decide if you wanted to be open to your surroundings again.

"Please," he pressed softly.

You kept your head bowed as your hands drifted back down to your lap. Little remnants of mascara, a mixture of new and old, sprinkled against the pads of your fingers. Eventually, your attention deterred away from your mascara-painted hands and towards the man beside you.

He looked at you as if you were the only person to grace this planet with you. It was as if the people scattered sporadically around you didn't exist at all. They were all figments of your imagination in this reality—all made to be apart of the background of both of your lives. Nothing else would ever matter as much as you two did together.

And indeed did you look back at him in the same way. The swirls of greens and yellow flicks of color between the dark rim of his irises were enamoring. It was the same eyes that you had looked in for as long as you knew him—from the first date to the first time you said you loved him to every moment that led to this.

"I will never love someone like I loved you. Do you understand that?" He crooked his head closer to yours with his eyebrows raised. It looked like he wanted to grab you by your shoulders and shake you as hard as he could to get you to understand.

"You found someone new, Harry. So quickly," you said as you fought against the quivering of your lip. "Nadine?"

He breathed out a laugh and you immediately wished you could have gotten a video of it as to have it with you forever. But, no amount of videos would ever truly capture his smile, his laugh the way that it looked and felt in person. Nothing.

"I don't care about Nadine," he stopped for a moment, "I broke up with her." His face grew serious again and he darted his eyes away, pulling a little further back as he looked deep in thought. Instinctively, your eyes widened. Your ears thought they were playing tricks on you just to get your hopes up.

"You were right," he said as he peeked back at you.

"I was?" You asked, baffled. Everything that you had said, whether yesterday or beyond that, suddenly attempted to replay in your head for some kind of answer you could come up with yourself. You had been so clouded with emotions that it was hard to remember any specifics when it came to him.

He nodded his head and sighed, "I don't know her. I don't even want to know her. I never did." He laughed again but it seemed to be at himself—like he was baffled by himself this time.

His eyes met yours again, and they felt frozen into yours. It was like that was where yours were born to stare and as was his.

"What does that mean?" You were scared to ask but you were desperate to know. Whether you were to be let down or not, you had to know. You would just have to learn to live with wherever it led.

His head drifted down but came back up quickly again as he spoke, "I forgive you. Do you forgive me?"

A smile that you had forgotten existed within yourself appeared. The storm clouds above no longer felt overcast over your head, ready to crash down every weather disaster it could muster anymore. This was one of the first times you felt warmth against your skin, now noticing the sun beating down directly above. Your focus on everything in life shifted in that instance.

"I do," you reassured through your unfaltering grin.

"Good," he laughed shyly. He cleared his throat, standing up from the bench and extended a hand in your direction. You glared straight ahead at his ring-cladded fingers, now with both of his initial rings adorned in its usual spot. The sight of it only made your face hurt from the smile that continued to grow.

Your hand placed so naturally in his as he lifted you up in one swift motion.

"So, Y/N. Where should we have our new first date this time?”

388 notes · View notes

hanjizung · 2 years

Text

♡ Digital Eyes ♡

Yang Jeongin x Reader

Word count: 2.4K

♡ Warnings ♡: Smut; sexting, filming, masturbation (f & m), body fluids, mentioned punishment, name calling, mentioned praising, swearing/adult language.

A/n: ive been a little absent because of work, this was suposed to be posted for valentine's day but i got too busy. I hope you all like it anyway, love you all, thanks for all the support and follows!

It all started with that goddamn photo, a screenshot your friend sent you telling you how cute it was and how she'd love to have one, even saying that you should get a matching set with her just for fun.

"You know, to take some spicy photos together" she had texted you along with a winky emoji, making you giggle and smile at your phone at the occurrences of your beloved best friend.

Of course, the moment she decided to send it to you was when you were spooning with your beloved boyfriend, who you thought was asleep but instead was paying attention to your phone screen in front of you.

"It's so bright, it doesn't let me sleep!" he had explained before. You knew that it was because he was actually nosy, but you'd never tell him that because you loved when he cuddled you. This time was different, though. You looked at the picture, a cute white lingerie set and looked it up online until you found it. It was cute, that part was true, but was it your style?

A hand grabbing your phone out of nowhere interrupted your train of thought, Jeongin rolled to the other side after you yelled a surprised 'Hey!', while he, with an extended arm, pushed you out of reach from your phone. "What is this?" he asked curiously, back turned to you so you wouldn't take your phone back.

You didn't answer him, instead you only stood up looking at him with flushed cheeks. Jeongin didn't look away from the screen, finger swiping the swatches of colors of the link you found the clothing item. "Nothing! J–just give me my phone!" you finally said when he finally looked at your eyes. Deciding to act, you threw yourself at him and tried to take the object from his hand only to be manhandled by him into your bed again, your boyfriend sitting on top of you, holding your hands above your head, a devilish smile on his beautiful face.

"I know what it is, doll. I could see what Ryujin texted you, something about getting matching sets and taking pictures together, right?" you swallowed, quietly looking at him. Your heartbeat went so fast, it made you afraid that it would run away from your chest, but still you didn't say anything, you only kept staring at him with wide eyes and a cutely flushed face.

He inclined, nose caressing the curve of your neck and going up until his mouth was next to your ear, and he whispered "I'd love to see you wearing something like that, babe," and then, he stood up and walked away from you like nothing had happened, leaving you hot and bothered watching in the direction he had left.

"I'll be going home, I promised Felix that I would play with him tonight. See you tomorrow," he came back to your room, putting on his coat and kissing your forehead sweetly. You only nodded and walked him to the door, staying still thinking about his opinion on the set that Ryujin showed you not too long ago. Should you get it?

You didn't give it much thought, life happened after that incident and you were quick to erase that image from your head, continuing your daily life like nothing had happened except a heated moment that simply occurred. You brushed it off like it was nothing, truly forgetting about the situation, and then time passed and suddenly, one day you received a call on your phone from someone who said they had a package for you.

Feeling suspicious about it, you took the call and walked to your door, finding a man carrying a box, “Special delivery for Y/N,” the stranger said, looking at his phone and then at you, giving you the package and turning around to continue his deliveries. You looked at the objects in your hands, feeling a bit suspicious and dubitative about opening or not…

“Why wouldn’t I open it?” you said aloud to yourself, sitting on the table staring at the box after examining it and shaking it to see if you could know the contents. Sighing, you took the box in your hands again, saying “Well, the delivery guy called my name, so it's obviously a gift. I’m… going to open it.”

Opening the box after a few tries, you finally removed the lid and saw a message written on a card. “Try it on and tell me what you think, doll,” your boyfriend’s name could be found at the end of the card, meaning that it was from him. Your mind instantly remembered about the problem Ryujin’s screenshot had gotten you in, expecting to see a similar lingerie set under the paper that covered the gift.

Placing the card to the side, removing the paper to find exactly the same outfit, in a white color, and another one under the first set a little different in black. Your hand flew to your mouth as you looked at the clothing in awe, thanking unknown forces about being home alone in that moment so you could hurry to try them on and show Jeongin, running to the shower to get ready to put your new set on.

It took a while getting ready, from the moment when you hopped in the shower and enjoyed the sweet scent of your soap and shampoo lingering on your skin and damp hair, to then facing the dilemma of putting makeup on or not… ‘might as well get all pretty for him if I’m sending him pictures,’ you reasoned, turning up the volume of the playlist you picked to get ready and prettying yourself even more, to then proceed and finally put on the pieces of sexy underwear you received not too long ago, looking at yourself in front of your full body mirror with your phone in hand, posing in different ways displaying the focus of the pictures; your body barely covered by the lingerie.

When you felt that it had been enough, you looked at your gallery to scan your own photoshoot session and choose on the best pic to send to your boyfriend, choosing one where you had your hand on your stomach, leaning to the front to show your breast and your face covered by your phone, looking for his name on your contact list.

“I got ur gift. does it suit me? ;)” you wrote, attaching the picture as well and clicking send, sitting back on your bed to wait for his response while you kept scrolling through your phone. Luckily, it didn’t take him much time, because after almost 10 minutes, you received a notification from him, which you quickly clicked as soon as you saw his name pop up.

“wow y/n, u look so fine doll, i knew it would fit u perfectly,” he answered, followed by lots of heart emojis. It was enough to make you giggle happily, so you sent another one, choosing to spice things up a little and sending him a picture where you were on your knees, legs apart and resting one hand on your thigh while the other held your phone a bit away from your face, allowing the camera to record your lusty eyes and your tongue sticking out.

This time, the answer came faster since your beloved boyfriend had his phone in hand when you sent it. ”babe ur so sexy” he quickly texted, then you saw he was still typing; “ily but u look so hot that just looking at those pictures gave me a boner,” he continued, attaching a picture of his strong hand on his crotch. You smiled, because that was exactly what you wanted.

When you clicked on the camera, you let your finger pressed on the button so now you were filming yourself, at first you made cute faces and then you focused the camera on your chest, your fingers playing with the little decorations and teasing to show more, finishing the short video with a “wish you were here” sigh, with the tone of voice that you knew he couldn’t resist.

You were needy for him, you wanted him to pay attention to you; to spoil you, hug you, kiss you, worship you. You needed him here to love him, and have him correspond to your love. You were head over heels for him, and also feeling extremely flirty because he was right. You looked so fine, you felt like a goddess.

You pressed send, and you waited while sharing a look with yourself in the mirror, appreciating yourself even more, until another notification interrupted the growing tension between you and your reflection. Jeongin had sent a video.

Clicking on it, you had to max your volume because your boyfriend was whispering. “Y/N, I want you to show me more, doll. You can’t tease me with videos like this, babe. You knew I was busy, I told you to not send more pictures so you film a video? That’s playing dirty, baby. I will need to punish you when I see you. Look just how hard you got me baby, this is all you,” he whispered, undressing himself with the hand that wasn’t holding his phone, his hard cock making it a little hard for him to pull out, but by the end of his video, he had half of it out of his sweatpants and was stroking himself.

You decided to play along, opening the camera again to film some more and follow his instructions. You spread your legs, your free hand reaching down to caress yourself over the thin clothing item, groaning at first when you felt that you were already turned on by the situation.

“I really wish you were here with me, Innie,” you said as you moved your underwear to the side, fingers delicately finding your clit, but you removed your hand, bringing your fingers up to your face to pull them in your mouth and soak them with saliva, then guiding that hand south to start pleasuring yourself, Jeongin’s name escaping your lips as the time of the video got cut and it was instantly sent, while you ignored that and started to have your own fun.

A few moments later, your phone started vibrating with an incoming video call from Jeongin. You picked up the phone, the call showing you your boyfriend breathing heavily as he shifted in what seemed to be a bathroom stall, a blush on his cheeks and his eyes clearly darkened with lust. “Damn it, Y/N, you look better than I imagined, baby” he greeted you, a smirk on his lips as he got your attention. You reacted and showed him your body by switching the camera for him to look at you through the mirror.

“Keep your phone like this and touch yourself for me, doll. I’ll do the same, okay?” he said, and you hummed in acknowledge to his words, eyes looking at the screen to see him stroke his hardened member, his strong hand around himself made you wish that it were you instead, mouth watering as you saw him jerk off for you, and then you snapped and decided that this was excellent content, moving your hand on yourself imagining that it was Jeongin instead.

Soon, you could hear gasps and groans from the other side of the call, Jeongin’s pace was starting to get faster, so you did the same, switching to the front camera again and placing your phone against the mirror, then exposing your chest and having one hand playing with your nipples while the other picked up some speed in your clit, then inserting one of your fingers inside you and gasping.

“Oh, Innie, I really wish this was you,” you cried out, getting his attention. He simply growled at your words, but his hand kept moving up and down on his length, while you inserted a second finger and thrusted yourself slowly, looking for the spot that you knew was your doom.

Jeongin started shaking, letting out deeper breaths and that's when you knew he was close. Your eyes kept looking at the screen, walls tightening when you saw him twitching in his large hand, cock glistening from the pre cum he had collected and lubricated himself with, and you imagined how nice it would feel if he filled you up when he came, which made you moan louder, and with that, Jeongin came first, making a mess of his hand and gasping for air, switching his own camera to focus on what you were doing and him telling you how good you were doing for him.

It didn’t take much longer for you to find your release as well, biting your lip and crying out his name as your body shook and you moaned, taking out your fingers and wiping them in your thigh.

“This can’t end here. I’ll be right there soon, Y/N,” he hurriedly said, moving to end the call when you called for him.

“But what about-”

“Fuck the music class, you’re more important right now, baby. I’ll tell the vocal instructor I had an emergency, don’t worry. See you soon, don’t move.” He hung up, leaving you with a feeling of anticipation on your belly. You looked at your out of breath self in the mirror, and then down at your almost naked body, deciding to wear the other set he included in the box as a surprise.

You checked the hour on your phone to see around what time he would be arriving, then texted him quickly. “The door’s open for you, lock it when you get here,” then you figured it would take him around 30 minutes, max, so you turned on the stove and started cooking a meal for when the two of you finish your activities, since you knew that you would be getting hungry after.

When you were done putting all the ingredients together, the door opened and the figure of your boyfriend entered your home, closing it and locking it. “Here's my naughty doll, come here. We have unfinished business, baby,” he said, opening his arms for you. You walked towards him and kissed his jaw, he held you as soon as you were within reach and his hand explored your exposed skin. “You look so fine, baby. I love you so much, you’re so divine.”

You smiled, feeling your heart doing a little dance inside your chest, and then you jumped at him, saying “let’s take care of the other business so we can have dinner,” in the most sensual voice you could, making him laugh.

“Well, then I hope you’re not hungry, ‘cuz we may take a while, baby.”

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