#thinking about her and ✨ decadence ✨ again

[halfyearsqueen]

RHAENYRA+ HEADPIECES

[sainzproductions]

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 ⋆ 𝐜. 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳

THE OTHER WOMAN / SEQUEL !

where you acclimate to the current dating scene after eight years of being with carlos...

liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and others

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↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

You felt like you had done a good job all by yourself. You took your sweet time getting used to being alone again, having spent the better part of the past decade accompanying carlos and living together with him.

As embarassing as it was to admit, there were days where you'd wake up abruptly as if hearing his footsteps, or the faint rumble of his voice lulling you to sleep. There were moments where you'd break down crying upon seeing an article of clothing belonging to carlos, or seeing pictures when you were still happily together.

It wasn't easy to forget an eight year relationship. You soon realized. He was all you've ever known and adored... You dreamt a life with the guy for crying out out loud!

You wanted all the permanent things, the domestic future, him.

But the reality was that you were different people who wanted starkly different things in life. Carlos was set on his career while you had the burden of being a woman. You didn't have forever to waste away, and you didn't want to spend it waiting for a future that could never be in the stars for you and him.

You had accepted it. It wasn't all tears, and tearful reminiscing anyways. Your life had picked up after a couple of weeks. It was a lie. You spent a month and a half being pathetic. But who was counting?

You were having the time of your life. Your singleness provided a way for you to realize new and old hobbies.

You finally went back to your hometown, despite your fears of facing your parents' knowing looks and getting an ill timed i told you so's from their ever skeptic way of seeing life. Especially your relationship with Carlos..

But your mother took one look at you; in your deshieveled and devastated form, wordlessly opening her arms and craddling your pathetic self as you wept about your broken heart.

You found peace in the tranquility of your childhood home. Reacquainting yourself with your horse, champion whom you had been neglecting— you realize belatedly. The help couldn't take the horses out that much, where you formerly took the stallion out for most of the day. You made sure to make up for lost time however.

You were also able to rekindle old friendships, quickly becoming fast friends once again as if no time had passed at all. You traipsed all over Madrid, enjoying the thrill of meeting new people, of learning new things... And how forward the current dating scene seemed to be in regards to matters concerning...

"Wait, wait." You press a hand towards his broad chest, breathing roughly. Your chest rose and fell with excitement as you tried to come down from how fast the things had quickly become heated between the two of you. "We're going a bit too fast, don't you think?" You whine under your breath, as his face came down to press open mouthed kisses on your neck, easily finding your most sensitive spot as he expertly manouvers your body, backing you up against the wall.

"Relax. We won't do anything you don't want." He says, softening his tone, "I'm not a hooligan." He tuts, pressing a feather like kiss on the side of your lips.

"Says the man who pulled me into a dark room to play tonsil tennis." You retort amusedly, stroking your fingers on his neck. You couldn't help but close your eyes at the sensation of his lips against your skin, his fingers making quick work of slipping under your skirt, and you hissed from the sensation of his cold rings against your thighs, "You're cold!"

"Warm me up then, love." He was evidently amused by your reactions and the way your cheeks flushed at his crude remark. He wiped away every other thought from your mind, as he kisses you wantonly. He made sure to hold your gaze as he pulls away, sinking down to his knees... and kissing your thighs softly. "Beautiful. So fucking beautiful. I couldn't think of anything else when you walked into the room. Nobody else mattered but you... you're bad for my business, darling."

You could hardly register anything else after that

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

The breakup came with the long forgotten territory of male attention. Sure, there were some bold and uncaring lads few and far between, but Carlos had quickly shut down every attempt with a swift glare and a possesive hand over you. You didn't mind. You only needed him and his attention and everyone else were merely annoying backnoise.

As it is, your breakup was made public through the urging of Carlos' management and his public relations team. You cooperated seamlessly despite being civil, to the point of rudeness, to their every demand.

How ironic was it that through his blatant act of wanting to separate himself from you and everything else that had to do with you; he made a declaration to the world that you were readily available.

Your dms were sure packed to the brim when you'd later had the energy to do anything asides from the basic tasks of taking care of yourself. You couldn't laugh nor cry upon seeing several of carlos' work acquaintances making their presence known in your dms. You even saw his former (and possibly current) teammates taking their shot.

You couldn't help but wonder for how long has he been... Non committal towards his best mates about your real score. They couldn't possibly muster up the courage had it been the true duration of your separation. Men aren't that proactive. They atleast had some base sense of loyalty.

Then again, it didn't take very long for him to be spotted with some model on his arm. He looked happy, invigorated... Annoyingly handsome. Fuck him and his perfect face. You wished you atleast threw a heel at him for being a dickwad.

Were you seeing other people out of spite or trying to prove yourself to him? You wouldn't exactly say so. You'd had an agreement with the well established, and good looking gentleman who had made you tremble and writhe under his tongue. He was incredibly lax and cool, and great company in every sense of the word. He made you laugh, he also made you cry just now.

And so while you made yourselves look presentable, you were first out the door while he waited a few minutes to make his entrance into the party again. You gratefully took a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, wetting your parched throat as you looked around as normally as you could. Blending in with the fancy people in their cocktail dresses and designers.

You heard footsteps approaching after a few moments. Another man spotted him, and he grinned in recognition upon the sight of the ever famous....

"Sir Hamilton!"

[hellodarling1357]

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts? (Cassian x Reader) - Part 3

Hello hello!!! Part 3 is finalllyyyyy here, I’m so sorry for the wait. It’s a bit of a filler chapter but the next part should (hopefully) be up soon.

Here’s a link to part 1 and part 2 ✨

Enjoy and let me know what you think 🥰

Word Count: 2.3k

Your feet stumbled as you came to an abrupt halt, unable to tear your eyes away from the pair walking along the other side of the river.

The male you had let yourself believe you had a chance with, and the female, Evalina, who was clearly his perfect match.

Cassian and Evalina had been together almost two decades ago before their relationship was ripped to shreds by such a monumental fight that no one had dared asked Cassian what had caused it.

Although you had been concerned for Cassian during the fallout, you couldn’t help the guilt-ridden joy that coursed through you at the thought of Evalina no longer being around.

It seems, however, you were wrong.

Embarrassment washed over you as you realised this is what Cassian would’ve wanted to talk to you about this morning; he was drunk and didn’t know what he was saying and, oh, by the way, Evalina is back in the picture.

“Y/N?”

Mor pulled you from your thoughts, her eyes tracking over to see what had you stopping, causing her to let out a sigh as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and forced you to keep moving.

“Come on. Let’s skip dinner and get you nice and drunk.”

You wouldn’t argue with that.

*****

“Hello ladies, welcome, welcome,” A handsome fae male greeted as you stepped inside the cozy wine bar. “How can I help you today? Table for two?”

You let Mor answer and guide you to your seat, too caught up in self pity to say anything to the male.

“Now,” He said with a clap of his hands and a dazzling smile. “My name is Bryn, owner of this establishment and your server for today. We are fairly new here and are missing a few shipments so our drinks list is somewhat limited, but I’ll do my best. What were you both after?”

Mor shot you a glance but you were preoccupied with looking out the window, torturing yourself by trying to catch a glance of where Cassian and Evalina might have gone.

“Just a bottle of wine please,” Another glance in your direction had Mor adding, “And two shots of vodka”

With a chuckle, Bryn took your menus and promised to be right back with your drinks.

“So,” You glanced back at Mor as she spoke, knowing your face was the picture of misery but unable to bring yourself to care. “Are you finally going to admit to me that you’re head over heels in love with Cassian, or do I have to keep pretending not to notice?”

You let out a groan and placed your head on the table.

A soft “ahem” caused you to jump up, cheeks flushing, as you realised Bryn had just arrived with two shot glasses.

You gave him a sheepish look and muttered a quick “thanks”, kicking Mor under the table as she laughed at you and your clearly broken heart.

Downing the shot, you glared back at Mor before reaching across the table and downing her shot as well.

“Hey!” Mor grumbled as you slammed the glass down.

Before you could respond, Bryn appeared again, bottle of clear liquid in hand.

“Looks like you might need this,” he said as he filled up both glasses again. “It’s on the house.”

Mor quickly grabbed her glass back before you could finish both of them off again.

With a sigh you pushed your now-empty shot glass towards the middle of the table.

“Is it really that obvious?”

“Yes.”

“Does Cassian know?” If he knew it would make the whole mess of a situation so much worse.

“I don’t know, Y/N. But I’m not sure if—“

You were hardly listening to what she was saying as you replayed the past 24 hours and the emotional roller coaster you had endured.

“I feel so stupid,” Mor stared back at you in silence, giving you a small smile that encouraged you to continue. “Last night, once we got back, we were just arguing back and forth, just about dumb things, and then he said…he was drunk, really drunk, but he said he loved me.”

Two wine glasses were placed in front of you and you graciously took a sip, unable to bring yourself to meet Mor’s eye.

“He said he loved me, and…I don’t know, I passed it off as him being drunk and just being him. But then, before he went to bed, he said it again, and the way he looked at me…,” You let out a heavy sigh before taking another sip of wine. “I just feel so stupid for letting myself think, hope, that it was real and that he actually meant it. But then this morning he wanted to talk, and now that Evalina is back in the picture…” You trailed off, still trying to piece your thoughts together.

Mor was silent for a moment as she turned over all you had said. It didn’t make any sense. She had seen you and Cassian together, the way you looked at one another, the joking and back-and-forth banter, the way both of your feelings were obvious to everyone except yourselves. But maybe she had been wrong…

“It might not be what you think it is,” Mor finally said. “Maybe just give yourself a couple of days, get some distance from him so you can sort out your own thoughts. Then we’ll work it out.”

Giving her a small smile, you nodded in response before changing the topic.

“Enough about me,” A sly smile spread across your face. “Will your friend from last night be joining us at Starfall this year?”

*****

You didn’t need to try too hard at avoiding Cassian over the next few days. Despite the upcoming celebrations, your workload remained never ending, allowing you only fleeting greetings as you crossed paths with one another.

As luck would have it, the week before Starfall, Rhys sent Cassian to Illyria to look into some rumoured wing clippings that had started springing up across some of the smaller camps. Although you missed him and worried about your friend whilst he was away, you found a sense of relief filling you as you were no longer having to hide away to avoid him.

You knew you would have to talk it out eventually, but for now you let yourself ignore the emotional turmoil and instead focused on the upcoming Starfall celebrations.

*****

You were just adding the finishing touches to your makeup when there was a knock on your door, followed by Mor letting herself in, not waiting for you to answer.

“Hello to you too.” You smiled at your friend in the mirror as you swiped some blush over your other cheek.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” She greeted as she passed you a generously filled glass of wine before setting herself down in one of the armchairs.

“Says you, you look absolutely stunning.” Mor just brushed off your compliment with a wave of her hand.

“Well go on, let’s see the dress. Everyone will be arriving soon.”

Taking a sip of wine, you walked over to your changing room, haphazardly throwing your silk robe onto the floor as you donned your Starfall dress.

Despite yourself, and the whirlwind the past two weeks had been, you couldn’t help but look forward to tonight. The distance from Cassian had helped you sort through your racing thoughts and allowed you to compose yourself enough to act as though nothing had changed.

Cassian had been delayed at one of the war camps and, according to Mor, had only returned to Velaris a few hours ago. Having been locked away with Rhys upon his return to go over his reports, and then with you spending the better part of the day bathing and getting yourself ready, you were yet to actually see him.

With a sigh you brushed out the skirt of your dress before grabbing your shoes and heading back out to the main part of your bedroom where Mor was waiting.

“I told you it was the perfect dress.” Mor squealed excitedly at the sight of you.

Grinning back at her, you quickly slid into your shoes before doing a final check over. You could feel your nerves start to flutter at the thought of seeing Cassian again, most likely with Evalina by his side if the other night was anything to go off.

With a final deep breath, you picked up your wine glass and turned to Mor.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

*****

The echo of music and excited chatter flowed down the hallway as the two of you headed towards the crowd. A quick glance around the room told you Cassian was yet to join and you felt your tension somewhat ebbing away as you and Mor headed over to where Rhys, Azriel, and Amren stood.

You lost yourself in the music and just being able to enjoy the night with your friends, your worries from earlier were long gone, the multiple drinks you had consumed definitely playing a helpful factor.

Noticing everyone’s glasses were getting low, you excused yourself and headed towards the bar to get the next round.

Patiently waiting for a tray of five glasses, you leant against the wall and watched the party before you in a contented silence. You would be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit you were also keeping an eye out for a certain red-siphoned Illyrian who you had yet to spot.

“Well you’re definitely looking better compared to the last time I saw you.”

You startled at the fae male who suddenly appeared by your side.

“Hi…” You trailed off, giving him an apologetic smile. He definitely looked familiar but you couldn’t place where you had met.

“Bryn.” He laughed. “You and your friend visited my bar the other week. Though I don’t blame you for not remembering me, seemed like you had quite a bit on your mind.” He finished with a wink at your clearly embarrassed expression as you thought back to your sorry state that night.

“Bryn, of course. How are you? How’s business?”

Shooting you another grin, he excitedly said, “Oh, it’s really great. Been pretty busy so that’s keeping me busy, but I do love it. We have a similar establishment in the Dawn Court but my partner is originally from here so we decided it was time to move back. Actually…would you excuse me? I believe one of the guests over there dabbles in the selling of fine wines…”

You blinked in response to his faced paced chatter and his sudden retreating figure, shaking your head a bit with a chuckle at what felt like the conversation equivalent of whiplash.

“Miss…” A voice called out, “Your drinks.”

Turning back to the bar, you hurried over for the tray, offering a gracious smile before heading into the throng of people to where your friends stood.

“Well you took your time, did someone catch your eye?” You rolled your eyes at Mor’s teasing as the others chuckled and thanked you for the drinks.

“Actually,” you started, giving Mor a dismissive look when she excitedly perked up. “Bryn, the owner of that new bar we went to the other week, is here, he was just telling me how it was all going. Here, someone hold this, I’m just going to take the tray back.”

You handed your glass off to Azriel before weaving your way back towards the bar. You waved at Bryn as you passed, who was now animatedly talking to who you assumed was the wine seller.

Movement behind you and the sudden call of your name had you looking around, your heart dropping as you were suddenly stood in front of Cassian and Evalina.

You gaped for a moment before quickly collecting yourself and plastering on a smile.

“Hi,” You greeted, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. “You’re back.”

Cassian gave you a soft smile, opening his mouth to say something but Evalina cut in.

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you. Cauldron, it’s been too long, hasn’t it?” You stiffened as she locked her arm around Cassian’s, a smirk gracing her features. “Can you believe that I’ve finally found my mate?”

And there it was.

You felt the blood rush to your head, the surrounding sounds of the party becoming a distant murmur as your body tensed and eyes went wide.

Her mate. Cassian was her mate, and she was his, and…

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Cassian’s concerned voice had everything rushing back into focus.

You blinked up at him, cursing yourself for the burning sensation as tears welled in your eyes.

You didn’t know what to say, you should be happy for him, for them. But you couldn’t muster the energy to pretend anymore, not as you felt your heart break into a million little pieces.

Ignoring Cassian’s question and the bewilderment on Evalina’s face, you turned on the spot and walked away.

*****

Sorry… 👀

[sweet-evie]

This is How You Fall in Love

Content: Established Relationship, gojo x afab!oc, gojo x fem!reader, nameless OC, she/her pronouns, lovesick!gojo, sentimental!gojo

A/N: I actually do have an OC in mind, but I don't want to give her a name yet.

✨ masterlist ✨

Part of him wished she could see how ethereally beautiful she looked in her sleep.

But then again, this vulnerable and peaceful sight belonged to him and him alone. He alone was granted the privilege of watching how her eyelashes fluttered in her sleep, or how her lips parted slightly as she breathed in and out. No other soul would be privy to the way she tucked her hands into loose fists, or how her body subconsciously curled towards his.

No one else would hear her say his name in the dead of night sometimes.

There were nights when he couldn’t help but think that he didn’t deserve her. And tonight was one such night.

He lay beside her on their bed, tucked under soft sheets, skin to skin.

Gentle fingertips whispered delicately over the side of her face, brushing stray locks of hair behind an ear. He traced a familiar path from the delicate arch of her brows to the bridge of her nose, her cheekbones, and her lips.

So beautiful…

An irreplaceable treasure. Sweet and strong. Lovely with all her flaws. So honest and endearing.

He didn’t think she truly understood just how much he loved her or how much he cherished her. To be fair, he didn’t exactly tell her outright, but he adored her and would always find ways to make sure she knew just how much she meant to him. He wanted a life with her — a home, a family, maybe even two beautiful darlings they would call their own one day.

The hand that was on her face traveled lower, tracing her arm and her hand until he gently held her palm, bringing her hand to his lips, so he could lay soft and secret kisses along her knuckles. His eyes landed on the emptiness of one of her fingers, waiting for the engagement ring he had already commissioned. He was waiting on its completion, and when it would be done, he would ask her to tie her life to his for eternity — would ask her to marry him and spend the rest of his life with her.

He loved thinking of their life together and how much they effortlessly intertwined with each other throughout the years — as if this was meant to happen all along, as if every moment back then was meant to lead to where he was now, sleeping next to the woman he loved and adored, basking in the happiness that enveloped him whenever he gazed at her.

He made himself sick sometimes, just thinking about how much he loved her.

And to know that she returned his sentiments and perhaps even more, humbled him — drove him to his knees if he let it. It was beautiful to know that she accepted him and loved him for who he was — not for his wealth or his powers or his status, but for him. She stripped him of his titles and she loved him for simply being Satoru. No one ever made him feel like that ever since Suguru did. And to think that he would find someone that he would feel so deeply connected to… It was almost unheard of, but she found him and he found her regardless.

He refused to think of losing her, but once in a while he would try to think of it just to prove to himself how inconceivable it all was. If he lost her, he knew he would be ruined. Suguru left a gaping hole in his heart. If she ever left or if she was ever taken away from him, he feared what he would become. He would never love again. He didn’t want a life without her.

She was everything and more to him and his soul — a missing piece of his puzzle, his angel, the other half of his wandering soul. Her happiness was his… And to be a constant witness of her smiles and laughter, her joy and fulfillment for close to a decade…it made him so infinitely happy too.

She was his happiness.

And just like every other night he spent like this, he promised her again that only the coldness of death could ever take him away from her love and her warmth.

Gods, he didn’t deserve her at all. But he was glad to have her anyway, and he loved her so much.

==========================================

[Dumped in AO3]

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hello! I’ve been back and forth on writing you this bc I’m nervous but eh fuck it, I have no shame. So first off, I just want to say that you, Salome, are an absolutely stunning and brilliant writer. As someone who majored in classical studies in college, I was completely blown away by Fatum Nos Iungebit. The world you built was so deeply immersive and characterization of König, in that story as well as your other headcanons, is perfect. For the past week or so, I’m going to be honest, I’ve been going through your blog because I’ve been so hungry for more and the only reason I haven’t interacted more is that 1. I don’t wanna feel like a creep and 2. I was so scared of you blocking me for ‘’spam-liking” or whatever. I can assure you that I am a real person and I’ve been enjoying everything I’ve seen. I came across one concept however, that definitely got my neurons firing and that’s the idea of belly dancer reader x könig and I have some thoughts I wanted to share with you if that’s okay. :)

So I’ve been a belly dancer for almost a decade (I actually celebrate my ten year anniversary next year!). I was part of a belly dance performance troupe at my old university and I currently dance with a studio in my new city. It’s genuinely one of the great passions of my life. I’ve performed at all kinds of venues and for all different occasions from festivals to galas to charity events to hookah bars, so I definitely have some performing experience under my belt, well as what audiences are like. So when I saw the idea of König being mesmerized by a dancer at a wedding, I went !!!

I want to add the caveat that this is based on my experience as a dancer living in the US, and while I’ve performed for SWANA audiences (which is always an amazing experience 🥰) and non-SWANA audiences, I can’t speak for what it’s like in other countries. So, in my ✨personal✨ experience as a belly dancer going on a decade, it’s pretty rare that men will approach dancers during or after a performance—especially to actively hit on her. And believe it or not, it’s because many of them are actually intimidated! I have seen the most seemingly cockiest, proudest men just stare blankly and stand back while we do our thing. If anything, it’s usually women who approach us, gushing about our performances or asking where they can take classes and stuff. Women tend to be the first ones to get up and dance with us, shower us with tips, etc. (again, very much my personal experience as someone living in the US). When it comes to more family-friendly events like weddings and stuff, we also get a lot of kids approaching and that’s always so adorable and sweet—especially when the little babies think we’re princesses. 😭

So back to König, especially Y!König. 😈 he’s at the wedding. He’s mopey. He’s picking at his plate of chicken and rice. He’s happy for his friend and his bride, but a little bitter and jealous that he’ll never get to be that happy. Then, a mejance (essentially an entrance/overture piece of music) swells over the speakers and out comes the dancer, adorned in an Irina Sheyner number (she’s an absolutely STUNNING costume designer, plsplsplsPLS look her up 😭), veil flying behind her. She does her mejance, a drum solo, and at some point…she does a sword number. The level of control she has to be able to balance the sword on her head in impressive, but König can’t help but imagine what it would be like for to dance wielding his knives in hand. Finally, dancer opens up the floor and in typical faction brings out the bride and groom to dance with her, and then most of the other guests follow. Not König though. He hangs back and watches as this beautiful dancer holds the guests in the palm of her hand. Gone is the cocky, brutal soldier, and only the shy, anxious boy remains, the one who would always be left out of games at recess and who wasn’t invited to birthday parties. König has never been the dancing type, but he can’t even bring himself to offer her a few of the banknotes or dollars or whatever currency he’s using. He just stares, and she’s completely oblivious.

A while later, he’s getting ready to leave, when he spots Dancer. Her makeup and hair still done up, but she’s now fully cloaked and awkwardly lugging her suitcase and bags full of props and other equipment across the poorly paved parking lot. König zeroes in on her and before he knows it, he’s approaching her, asking her if she needs help carrying her stuff. Dancer, surprised but this gigantic man suddenly appearing before her, flashes a winning smile at him and says he can. König easily lugs the stuff to Dancer’s car. She thanks him profusely and just like that, she drives away.

It’s only a few hours later that the obsession starts to creep in. König, who’s ordinarily not a big social media user, is now checking the feeds and stories of his friends who attended the wedding. Finally, he comes across one friend who posted a video of themself with the dancer and tagged her Instagram. König can’t click on it fast enough and suddenly, he’s greeted by dozens of images and photos of Dancer. Some are adorably mundane. He finds out that Dancer teaches classes at a studio nearby, and some of the videos consist of dancer teaching basic moves to the camera. There are other videos of her at the local hookah bar, where she performs on a regular basis. König sees one particularly video of Dancer doing a piece of floor work, that same sword balanced proudly on her head as she’s propped back on her arms, her gorgeous hips undulating toward the sky. König feels a dark wave of heat wash over him. He jokingly thinks to himself that maybe he should take up hookah. But one thing is for certain, she’s going to be his one day. He’ll just have to be sneaky about it, subtle.

He clicks the follow button on Dancer’s instagram. She has a few thousand followers. Surely she can’t notice one faceless profile, right? 😈😈😈😈😈😈

Anyway, that’s all I have for now. I know you’re taking a break from fics but if you see this I want you to know you’re an amazing writer. Lots of love! 💖💖💖💖

Ughhh and another lovely soul 😭💗 I don't know what's going on in here this week but both you and anon have really made my heart swell!

And please please please, spam liking is never frowned upon here (I don't know why anyone would block someone who's clearly not a bot for loving your stuff?!) It's such a delight if I see that someone has liked a ton of things instead of just one. It's the highest compliment and praise! ❤️🥺

And your bellydancer prompt/drabble is so mouthwatering, god. If I'm being honest, I'd read whatever you wrote for this thing in a hot minute because you have the skill and you've done the research (an actual bellydancer in my inbox?! Ok Salome try not to be a creep) and the premise is just. GAH. So good, especially with yandere König! ❤️❤️❤️

I have to reveal I wrote like 8 chapters of a story relatively close to this in the fall: Stalker!König obsessing about reader, invading her DMs on Instagram and literally stalking her. She's not a bellydancer, but damn if I didn't think about changing her into one... :) The story is on hold for now, but here is a little snippet as a thank you gift!

CW: Yandere/Stalker!König, harassing, obsessive behavior

I’m sorry, Liebling. You were too beautiful yesterday. I got carried away.

You wake up just to see that your phone is full of messages. From him, of course. He’s created another account on Instagram.

I’m just a man.

You ignore it altogether, even if there’s messages and emails from other people too. You simply go to brush your teeth, hearing how the phone buzzes on your desk.

I know it was disrespectful. I could never call my wife that. Will you forgive me?

You sigh and finish with your morning routine, but the phone buzzes again.

I sent you flowers. Did you get them?

It’s like he knows when you’re awake, because you can see the messages from your screen without having to unlock it. Even if he refreshed your conversation every minute, every second, he can’t possibly see that you’ve seen them yet.

It bugs you to no end, this feeling that he somehow knows that you’re awake. It’s like he knows your every move. It’s the most unnerving thing, and makes you think about horrible scenarios where he has broken into your house while you’re at work, to install cameras or microphones or something. You feel like you’re about to go mad if this nightmare goes on.

You go to the front door, but hesitate a while before you turn the knob.

What if it’s a trap?

What if he wants to kill you because you yelled at him last night at the pub...? What if there’s a bomb or something that goes off when you open the door, what if he aims at you with a gun from across the street and kills you on your doorstep this morning?

Just what the actual fuck does this guy even want with you...

You sigh with a broken heart and some broken nerves, deciding it’s as good a way to go as any. You turn the knob and open the door, only to find the usual porch, and a large bouquet of dark red roses planted there.

More ice sinks into your stomach as you witness the evidence of him knowing where you live. But the fact that he chose to send red roses… Ugh, this guy is so old-fashioned and so unimpressive that it’s somewhat a dull surprise to actually see flowers on that porch.

Who buys red roses these days?

Couldn’t he have picked peonies or something, something to go with your other decor… Red roses are so eighties, so funeral-like, so boring.

You sigh and go and take the flowers to the trash. Then you walk back to your house, make sure the door is locked tight, and go back to your phone to type a message.

Did you see that?

The answer arrives immediately.

What? ❤️

I threw your flowers in the trash.

There’s bit of a pause after that. Your wannabe boyfriend clearly hasn’t got his eye on you at every given moment. That’s a bit of a surprise, almost a disappointment, actually. But only if you were any more crazy.

The reply comes after about 30 seconds, after a series of Typing… bumping up and down on the screen.

I’m sad.

You get some satisfaction from that, but the first reaction is a tiny, tiny dagger to the heart. You sigh – you do nothing but sigh these days – not only because of his message, but also because you can’t seriously be having a moment of compassion for your stalker, for god's sake.

You make me sad, Liebling 💔 Are you still angry with me?

You throw the phone away and go to make yourself some breakfast, only to stop and turn when you hear the phone buzz again.

I’ll send you more flowers.

Jesus…

You unlock the screen in a frenzy and type a reply in mere seconds.

Don’t bother. I’ll throw them in the bin too.

Typing…

You have to keep them at some point. Trash bins get full so soon.

STOP HARASSING ME.

You throw the phone away for good this time, and don’t come back to it for another hour. You eat your breakfast with squirming insides and a rattled heart, waiting for someone to come bring you flowers at any given moment.

But no one ever comes.

You check your phone before going to work, but there’s nothing from him there. You go and block his new profile, unsurprised to see that there are no pictures this time, not even a profile picture (well, there is one, but it’s only a black circle), just in case. You don’t know why you didn’t block him in the first place.

There’s a radio silence for a few days. You spend them at the edge of your seat, with lots of trouble sleeping, but soon start to ease into the fact that maybe he finally had enough. Maybe you were not as interesting or attractive as he thought when he met you in person…

Wait, what?

Gosh, you can’t be this desperate... You simply can’t. This has to end.

You don’t talk about him in therapy, mainly to convince yourself that you’re not thinking about him at all. You’re not missing him harassing and stalking you, and you’re not disappointed that he didn’t send you enough flowers to fill your entire bin.

You know you should address this: this crazy need to be something groundbreaking to someone. To want someone to be this obsessed with you, no matter how sick that someone was. You know you would have gone to the police if your stalker was the sleazy, weak-wristed man from the pub. You would’ve packed your bags and moved houses already, changed your name and closed your social media accounts, quit everything if your stalker was small and ugly and weak.

But now that you know he’s relatively good-looking, does something dangerous and has a lot of money, and looks like he could fuck and fight half the city by himself, you’re not in that much of a hurry to go to the authorities.

You’re even a bit sad that your stalker hasn’t given you any fevered attention these past few days... He hasn’t even asked you how you’ve been.

No one has asked you how you’ve been: no one ever does. You have to wade through this life all by yourself: depressed and anxious and crazy. Lonely… And horny.

Gods, you just want someone to hold you at night… Someone strong, and big, someone who would pay a few bills for you, take care of you and give you a round of good sex…

Your phone buzzes from time to time, but there’s no message from him. One night before going to sleep, relatively early, so early that it could be called the bedtime for old spinsters, you break down and cry a little. It’s not a wail: only a soft little sob, a few sniffles and a couple of tears until your nose gets clogged and the pillow is wet.

Your phone buzzes, and you reach for it, feeling so, so pathetic when you hope it would be him.

And the message is from him.

You’re the most beautiful woman on this earth. I know I fucked up. I’m just a horny dog and I don’t deserve you.

You sniffle and rise to sit, your whole system fully awake now. Oh god... You’re so fucked.

The message makes you feel incredibly good and sweet, almost giddy. It feels like he’s kneeled right there in front of you, like a knight who has misbehaved in the throes of his lust. You know it’s ridiculous, but you start to smile a little, and the tears dry on their own. The merry feeling is followed by righteous rage, a little fit, because he’s made you wait for days, he’s tortured you in every way possible, and he does absolutely nothing right.

You unlock the screen and start to type, not thinking it through at all before hitting send.

That’s right.

Fuck… Shit. That was a mistake. No, a huge error.

Why did you have to send that? Stooping to his level, sending stupid things like that…

You put the phone away quickly, then reach for it again to delete what you just send. But it’s too late.

I can be a good dog if you forgive me.

The message is waiting for you already, and when you don’t reply, the oppressive, ominous Typing… hits on the screen once more. God, how could you be so stupid…

I’ll kill anyone you need me to kill. I'll give you money, whatever you need. A new kitchen so you can cook me something nice? I’ll be a good dog, I promise.

What did you even expect?

Everything always blows up when you give him attention: any dumb person knows better than to give this hungry dog a bone. You’re just too fond of digging your own grave, it seems.

There’s no end to the messages: this guy starts typing a new one every time he has sent the last.

I’ll fuck you like a good dog too….

You lean your forehead to your palm, trying to figure out a way to stop this.

And then–

Fuck, now I’m hard

You take a quick breath of air and put the phone away.

Please don’t send a dick pic, please don’t send a dick pic…

The phone buzzes.

Look how hard you make me

There’s a picture attached, but you can’t see it when the screen is locked.

This is what I have to live with, day and night…

Message after message, your phone buzzes, and you check them quickly from your screen, swearing to yourself that you’re not going to give him the satisfaction of opening the conversation and checking the image he sent you. You know perfectly well what you will find if you do that.

But after only a minute or two, you unlock the phone, and open the conversation with your heart ramming in your chest.

Just one quick look...

[that-wizard-oki]

15 years later and we haven't once looked back... ✨

Happy 15th Birthday Wizard101! It has been QUITE the path for many of us, myself in particular, these past 15 years, so I wanted to do something meaningful. Here's two illustrations that depict the progression of time for our player character withing the span of the last decade and a half. Was pretty happy with how they turned out!

More info on the symbolism if any are interested:

For the 'younger' piece, we of course have the Wizard dressed in the original beginner gear. I went with colors that were neutral to any of the schools. The envelope laying on the ground is a call back to the advertisement letter/envelope/flyer that was sent out before the game's launch, which was printed in the manner of an 'acceptance letter' to Ravenwood. The wizard also holds on to a small Cherry Tree sapling, which is just beginning to bud. The Wizard looks eagerly ahead to begin their journey.

In the 'older' piece, we see that the sapling has grown into a full sized cherry tree. The tree itself is a reference to the Classic ver. of Wizard City, in which a cherry tree sapling can be found next to the Library in the Commons. In the updated version of Wizard City, this cherry tree then becomes fully grown.

Furthermore, there are small references to each of the major Arc's that the Wizard has endured. The First Arc is represented by the Skull, referencing Malistaire & his Undead Army. The Second Arc is represented by the Spider/Spider Web, which looms over the Wizard's shoulder. An obvious reference to Morganthe & the Shadow Web. The Third Arc is represented by the Raven perched in a tree. Again, an obvious reference to Mellori, Grandmother Raven, and the whole feud between her, Spider and his children. The Fourth Arc is represented by the ruined tablet/marker- based off a very old housing item that had 'kthulu' imagery on it, though I updated it a bit to align more with Dasien's iconography found throughout Lemuria & Arc 4.

Like in the 'younger' version, the Wizard touches the three, but in a way where they're almost leaning on it for support, indicating that the player is tired, more worn and not as enthusiastic about the road ahead, as they once used to be. Of course, they are adorned in the Divine Paradox robes- I took some creative liberties, mainly omitting the "ring" on the back for a solid cape. I liked the idea of the cape symbolizing the weight the wizard now carries on their shoulders.

You may also notice that the tree root sticks out into the path in BOTH illustrations- as if to say that this could theoretically be the 'same' island the wizard was at when 'younger'. You could also read into the root of the tree completely obstructing the path in the 'older' piece in a certain way too- as though our roots & beginnings are now causing obstructions and issues in our current/future self.

Anywho! That's a lotta mumbo Jumbo but I really put a lot of thought into the pieces and wanted to ~explain~ it all hehe. Maybe you found some different meaning in these, that's awesome too!

Again, hope you all enjoy, and I also can't thank this community enough. You all mean so much to me, and now that I work on the game, I have extra appreciation for you all for keeping this game & community alive & thriving. You matter so much more than you may think <3

Here's to many more years of Wizard101!!!!! <3

[harmshake]

The Gentle Horror, Part 3

What is done in the dark will always be brought to light...

Vampire Jimmy Uso x Nyma (fem!black!oc) | 18+, NSFW, mentions of graphic m*rder, domestic violence, blood, and smut | 7,474 words

a/n: We're back! I decided that instead of rewriting the entire series to edit in Vampire Jimmy, I'd just edit out Vampire Swerve. 💅🏾

Happy reading! Read Parts 1 and 2 or my non-spooky stuff here, if you'd like. ✨

"They know what you did, Stephon."

"They're comin' to kill you."

"Wake up. Leave the girl behind and run. Now. Before it's too late."

The dream of Nyma's delicate and beautiful voice had swiftly warped into a nightmare of a deep, panic-stricken tone, trying to shake Stephon awake after a few moments of him feeling trapped within the warning he didn't want to hear.

He knew that voice and knew it well. Daphne, his maker, his ex-lover, and a vampire he hadn't spoken to in nearly a century. Stephon wanted to be surprised that their blood link still connected them after all this time, after he'd sworn her off and crossed the nation to leave her alone, but that surprise abruptly melted into the realization that they could never be separated. Not when it was her blood that ran through his veins and made him what he was. A creature of the night. A vampire that was apparently in such grave danger that Daphne set aside her hurt for him abandoning her to call out to him, help him.

Stephon had his reasons to sever his ties to the woman as though he owed her his life, their time together was just as destructive to it. He had craved peace, quiet, and calm after decades of insanity and sin. Peace, quiet, and calm that Nyma and her beautiful, brown eyes, soft skin, and even softer heart blessed him with when he least expected it, but needed it most.

He knew as soon as the sun went down that day he would go to her, rid himself of the fear that swirled in his mind from Daphne's caution from wherever she was, hopefully not near, so that he could be near Nyma, ridding her clothes and hiding himself in her warmth that made him feel not only alive but safe. Stephon knew better than to dismiss his maker's message as he also knew what he'd done...and that certainly the consequences were imminent.

Yet he wouldn't put himself or Nyma in harm's way, already thinking ahead of how to tell her of his gruesome mistake and to come away with him to leave it all behind him. She wasn't happy here, regardless, not when she was alone in a new state with no friends or family. Not when Tyree, her husband, the only person she knew, was dead. Not when it was he who killed him.

He was an abusive piece of shit, a low-down nigga, and Stephon had no qualms about scrubbing the earth clean of him. Yet he did so not at Nyma's behest, but at his impulse, something he wasn't certain how to speak to her about, but he would. He had to. And he had to believe that she felt those blood-rushing, delicious, and deep emotions for him as he did for her to trust him when he confessed that he murdered him for her good—that he only wanted to protect her.

Just like Stephon wanted to protect her now. If danger was after him, surely it would be after her as well since he had revealed what he was to her. Stephon shook again in his sleep as the nightmare, as Daphne's voice, finally released him, his eyes popping open with a jolt shooting through his body that lay in his bed. He didn't have to adjust his groggy eyes to know it was still sunlight beyond his basement bedroom, sunlight that would destroy his body like that of a lit torch setting ablaze a bundle of sticks, yet Stephon's gaze sharpened with immediate awareness that there was danger, the danger, right here and surrounding his bed as his eyes widened to see three tall men he didn't recognize in matching black turtlenecks and jeans like the Texas heat outside wasn't blistering.

However, Stephon did recognize that the heat would never touch them, not when they were cold-blooded, not when they were vampires just like him. Vampires sent here to kill him. Before he could think to flee with his incredible speed, the three men used their combined and even quicker speed to pin him down to his mattress, two of them at either end of him with large and fucking strong hands holding down his arms and ankles as the third man retrieved a wooden stake from the holster on his belt.

"Shit, wait, pl—" Stephon's eyes protruded with panic, the same panic he could still hear enmeshed in his brain where Daphne's fear thought to bury itself for his own good. But it was too late, his words too late, falling on deaf ears, anyway, as he knew the men would not hear his pleas, only his brief scream as the man hovering above him drove the stake into his chest, through his heart. He did it with such ease and force like that of a knife sinking into supple, human skin as Stephon was once human, too, once immortal unless struck in this brutal and specific way...that ease and force unsettling yet short-lived, short-lived like the millions of thoughts of his every wrongdoing, regret, and wasted love, as he could do nothing more than stare into the eyes of his murderer before his blood spewed from his chest and blurred his vision. 

Vision that obscured as it faded to black in just seconds as he faintly heard Nyma's voice in the corner of his mind a final time as she sang a spiritual his mother used to, a song he had not heard Nyma sing and never would, yet he prayed with his last breath that his soul would linger in the ether to perhaps hear it, hear her, in another lifetime...

・・━━━━━━━━━━ ∞ ━━━━━━━━━━・・

The kill had taken only a second, but Jon felt it for hours later.

It didn't matter how many vampires he'd witnessed in their final moments, didn't matter how many times he restrained them to keep them still for their demise, or, worse, how many times it'd been him with the wooden stake in his grasp before he wedged it into their chests to pierce their undead hearts...their deaths were still deaths. And yet he knew they were justified, or, better, well-deserved.

Jon may have carried with him the weight of ending a life, but if it was a life that unabashedly tormented and ended another, he believed it was only right to correct the sin with another that cleansed the earth of their evil. It was not only his belief but his sworn duty as a bounty hunter, his only prey vampires that dared threaten to expose their existence with violence against unsuspecting, and usually innocent, human beings.

Jon was human once, a long while ago, yet his heart still bled with the news of war, death, and savagery toward his distant kin—especially if it was at the advantaged hands of a cold beast whose strength would eternally overpower a fragile, defenseless human. The mere thought "boiled" his blood enough to make it his life work to protect not only vampires but the humans whom they hid themselves from.

As he and his bounty hunter associates stood around the bedside of the remains of this cruel vampire, his blood splattered along his sheets, the floor, and in every direction, including upon Jon's long braids that fell over his shoulders and left cheek, he smudged the back of his hand to the stain on his skin before they collected what was left of his body to dispose into large, black suitcases lined with plastic. They worked impossibly quickly, seamlessly, packing up him, the sheets, and anything that his blood had touched before they cleaned with hydrogen peroxide and other products to leave the basement pristine and untouched to a mortal's gaze.

Yet, suddenly, Jon couldn't shake the distinct pull of guilt that touched his heart from the mortal who lived just next door, that pull growing stronger as he and his team filed out of Stephon's home through the front door whence they came, knowing no human would detect their presence as they were careful to act at this particular time of day when the sun was high in the hot sky and they were all shuffled away to their jobs in the city. Where a normal vampire would burst into flames from that hot sky, Jon, like his mates, was gifted with the ability to bask in the sun, the particular blessing known to vampires as daywalking, a blessing only bestowed upon bounty hunters by the Liege who depended on them to work tirelessly, day or night, to collect their bounty in good time.

But the human next door, the one who yanked at Jon's heart with her pain so blisteringly blatant that it felt like his own, was home at an odd time, tucked away in her bedroom upstairs and beneath her covers as she tried to sleep but could not. Jon couldn't see her as he and the hunters carried their luggage to their windowless black van to stow their haul, but he could hear her perfectly. Shuffling with restlessness in her cotton sheets, breath huffing with frustration for the lack of rest, lack of peace as every other horror tried to steal it. He knew of those horrors as it was why he was here in her neighborhood: To assassinate the vampire who murdered her husband.

However, Jon could feel with his heightened sense of discernment that this human woman knew nothing of that horror, only what it left behind...hurt, confusion, and a dull sense of healing that he felt trying to blossom in her heart from the vampire who rested in pieces in the back of their truck to be burned in the desolate woods as they closed the doors and climbed inside. That was the guilt that tried to rip at Jon's chest as they pulled away from the two-story home that once housed a beast who no longer could plague this otherwise quiet, lush neighborhood.

But it was another death to plague that poor human woman. Another mystery for her never to solve. And, obliquely, it was his fault. His brown eyes glanced at her home growing smaller in the passenger side mirror as they drove down the street, yet his guilt did not grow any smaller with it. And Jon knew then that it would not unless he did what he knew was right: Protect the humans who could not protect themselves.

・・━━━━━━━━━━ ∞ ━━━━━━━━━━・・

Four days.

Four days without Stephon.

It was unlike him to not slip into her home as soon as the sun went down, his home unusually silent when she went to knock upon his door each day, and uncanny for him not to at least speak to her from his own, her blood mingling with his own, too, in a way that she heard his sweet, beautiful voice between her ears even if he was nowhere near.

Yet that was the most disturbing part for Nyma. If Stephon had suddenly gotten too busy to see her, she could understand. He did not lead some simple life that she could even begin to comprehend. But she couldn't hear him anymore. She couldn't feel his presence, something like that of a small void spreading within her heart with eternal blackness where he used to be.

Nyma was only human, only knew what death felt like on the side of the living, the way it gnawed at the heart, but she knew this feeling well as it was the same one that haunted her when Tyree, her late husband, went missing. Stephon was in trouble or...he was not on this side any longer.

The thought kept her up at night and kept her tossing and turning in bed during the day when she tried to catch up on sleep. If there was one thing she was grateful for was the fact that she worked remotely, and yet being home alone in a viciously empty house—save for her golden retriever, Maddie, who could sense her sadness and tried to lick away her tears when they fell from her face as Nyma gently pushed her away—felt like a special kind of torture.

It was already torture to live in a new state so far from home, to live in this new place with her husband who tortured her in his heavy-handed way, to live in this new place with no one to save her until...

Stephon's deep brown eyes gleamed in her mind's eye as Nyma lay in bed, glistening tears running down her cheeks to both sides of the pillow behind her head before she closed her eyes to see his gaze better. Not realizing that the last time she would see it would be the other night after he held her in his arms as he rocked between her legs, rocking her soul with thrusts that she felt somewhere even deeper, even more ethereal. He drank from her that night, his sharp fangs breaking her skin along her delicate throat and hurting her so good, a passion that Nyma never believed existed before Stephon unveiled his true form to her.

A gentle monster. A lovely beast. And yet still merely a mesmerizing man.

Now that man was missing and Nyma wasn't sure if she could handle it. She wasn't handling it, truthfully, the last four days a blur that left the room spinning, her world tilting off axis, and she saw no other way to balance it than escaping into the night, sinking behind her steering wheel, and following the dark roads wherever they took her.

Those first four nights, Nyma felt like she was still searching for Stephon, hoping to see him walking along the bordering woods, sitting on a park bench, hoping to just see him anywhere. When she did not, the dark roads led her to a bar that sat on the corner just outside her neighborhood. Nyma wasn't particularly a drinker, that was more Tyree's taste before he let the liquor fuel his frustrations that he took out on her, and yet she still found herself heading inside after peeping at her reflection in the rearview mirror to adjust the black headwrap that hid her dark, afro curls that she hadn't bothered to touch since sorrow sapped her of her strength. Even her brown skin suffered for it, usually luminous but now pale, both from her sorrow and those cigarettes that she reserved to smoke out that sorrow, going through two packs in the last 72 hours.

She wasn't proud of it, especially when she thought of Stephon's words to her that she was too gorgeous to smoke, but like him and his Hennessy, she had her poison picked, too. And without him here, she felt the need to down more poisons, anything that soothed her nerves with a warm touch...although she had begun to fall in love with his cool touch...

Nyma felt the cool gravel beneath her knees when she fell onto it as she stumbled out of the bar an hour later, too drunk to walk and certainly to drive, but she wanted to go home, and by the grace of whatever god was above she made it there to crawl into her bed, Maddie leaping onto the sheets with her to rest her big head on her waist, and cry herself to sleep as she thought about how that same god could inflict mourning on her time and time again.

When the time was past noon the next day, Nyma was still tangled in her sheets with dried tears and drool on the fabric, only waking when Maddie barked and would not stop. The sound didn't cause her headache, but worsened it, compelling her to snatch the sheets off her body and stare at her bare feet sprouting from the ripped, black jeans she'd worn to the bar last night as she didn't want to fall down the stairs on her way to quiet Maddie by fixing her a late breakfast.

Yet Maddie was not at her bowl in the kitchen but barking and whining for a different reason, standing in her foyer with her hackles standing up, too, her eyes trained on the front door like there was someone behind it. Nyma's eye twitched with her heart twitching along with it from anxiety and excitement that it could finally be him. She clumsily rushed to the mirror that hung to the left of her door as she wiped at her eyes and mouth and adjusted her red tank top to look as presentable as she could, never mind that he had already seen her vulnerable and still called her beautiful.

A few quiet knocks then called from behind her door and Nyma called back, "Coming!" as she petted Maddie on her head to calm her and quickly led her out to the fenced-in backyard before she nearly ran back to her door where the knocks rang again. Her heart pounded hard in her chest to see Stephon as she unlocked and pulled open the door, but it sank just as hard when she then remembered he could not stand in the sunlight. Instead, she spotted a tall, light-skinned brown man standing on her porch.

"Um, yes? Can I help you?" Nyma blurted as she squinted her eyes from the blaring afternoon sun assaulting her bleary eyes. His shoulders were almost broad enough to block it but he shifted on his feet to let it shine on her face, his face handsome yet slightly stern and concerned, even as he attempted a polite smile at her.

"Hello, ma'am. Are you Nyma? My name is Jon. I'm a friend of Stephon's. Can I talk with you 'bout him for a minute?" Jon's voice was just as polite as his smile, deep and laced with kindness and more of that concern Nyma could see crinkling his features. That same concern shifted to dread in her chest to hear Stephon's name come out of this stranger's mouth.

"Y-yeah, uh, please, come in," she stammered as she let Jon slowly walk past her and into her home where he stood awkwardly like he didn't know what to do with himself. She watched the long, thick fingers of his left hand twitch before he shoved both hands into the front pockets of his black joggers, switching around on his foot to face her when she said, "Have a seat, please. Do you, um, want anything to drink or—"

"Naw, I'm straight. Just want a few minutes of your time, if that's okay," Jon said without sitting down. His demeanor was already reticent even though he seemed nice enough, yet Nyma felt her dread burrow deeper into her chest at who he was and what he wanted to talk about concerning Stephon which would only take "a few minutes."

"Did something happen to him?" Nyma whispered as he parted his lips to speak, the truth trying to wriggle into her soul that she just wanted to confirm without further dragging it out. 

Jon's face remained stern, concerned, yet soft as he replied, "Yeah. He's fled town. There's a warrant out for his arrest."

Nyma's eyes widened once more at the news, first panicked but then confused as Stephon was a sweet and quiet man, he had to be as no one knew what he was but her. She wondered if Jon knew, too. However, she didn't ask, wrapping her arms around herself as she tried to find the words to ask instead, "Arrest?! For what?"

"No easy way to say this," he said under his breath with a heavy sigh before he added, "Stephon killed someone."

"Killed? Who? W-what?!" Nyma spat immediately in disbelief. She knew Stephon had a notably noxious way of "eating his dinner," but she also knew he wasn't the type to be greedy. The night that would never leave her mind of when he feasted on her, he couldn't have been more tender...

Now Jon's eyes widened slightly at her question and he paused as if to silently debate with himself before he let out another tense sigh, this time his gaze holding hers. "He made me swear on my life not to tell anyone. Jesus. I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you when it shoulda been him before he went on the run. He...he killed Tyree. I'm sorry. I'm so fuckin' sorry."

Jon's hushed words rushed out of him before he rushed to her to catch her as her body tried to collapse to the floor, the blood rushing from her brain as Nyma couldn't stand or think straight, blotches of black filling her mind and vision. She didn't have to think too hard to realize all at once that what Jon said was true, all of the evidence she couldn't see as she got lost in Stephon's mysterious yet sweet gaze distracting her from reality...

The night she met Stephon, he seemed wary of her bruised cheek like he knew who caused it. That same night, Tyree was murdered with a snapped neck that his autopsy report claimed was a clean break with no signs of struggle. Almost immediately after, Stephon cozied up into her life to replace him with his promise to protect her the way her husband never did.

Nyma heard a loud cry echo through the patches of darkness that did not sound like her own but she felt her vocal cords quiver from its strength, saw Jon in spots through that darkness as he held her to his cool chest in a hug that did little to comfort her or muffle her sobs.

"I'm sorry," Jon repeated softly from far away before he pulled her to her couch a few feet away. Nyma's chest heaved with heavy, stuttering breaths as she tried to blink her teary ears to focus on her hands balled up on her lap, a technique she'd read ages ago that claimed to help quell panic attacks. Yet as Jon reappeared with a glass in his hands that her sights focused on then, she knew nothing would help unless there was a stronger substance in that glass besides the water he brought her.

He tried to sit down next to her once she took it from him, but then he seemed to think against it, staying upright as Nyma took a shaky sip of the water and nearly choked when another sob rushed from her throat. He grabbed the glass back from her to place it on her coffee table, his voice still hushed as he murmured, "Shit. I hate to drop this shit on you and leave. I really do. I wasn't supposed to come here in the first place, but it ain't sit right with me for you to be left in the dark 'bout all this."

Nyma glanced up at him and tried to hear him as a mild ringing in her ears threatened to mute him, but she'd heard enough. All she could do was nod and put her face in her hands as that darkness came to consume her, anyway, only able to kind of hear Jon as he hesitated to move before he quietly shuffled to her front door to let himself out.

In the long stretch of silence that passed after he left, Nyma felt frozen to her couch, her cries frozen in her chest, as her pale, brown skin became paler and cool as if her heart had at last, after so many mournings, froze over, too.

・・━━━━━━━━━━ ∞ ━━━━━━━━━━・・

Nine years earlier...

Red light poured through the dark nightclub, the strobes vibrating with the bass of DeJ Loaf's "Me U & Hennessy" as a beautiful, black woman vibrated her body with a sensual swirl of her hips on Jon's lap as he sat on the white leather sofa in his section. He forgot her name and he didn't bother to ask again, too gone off the Remy to care as he cared more about how the thick curves of her ass felt in his hands, watching how it bounced when she bent over to twerk for him.

"You gotta girlfriend?" she asked in his ear once she leaned back against his chest, her long braids spilling on him and her soft, cool lips grazing his skin and making him shiver with the need to feel those lips on his dick that tried to poke her through his jeans.

"Do it matter?" he asked back gruffly, his hands gruffly pawing at her ample breasts in her strapless dress before he sluggishly remembered they were not alone in this section, his boys and the girls they entertained surrounding them. Yet when the woman's delicate moan surrounded his ears, Jon suddenly didn't care to hear or see anything else if it wasn't her leaned over again, face down, ass up, so he could make her whine more of those pretty moans to him.

Yeah, he had a girlfriend at home but she was likely asleep at this ungodly hour of the night, giving him enough time to slip away and do what he pleased as he saw fit. He was a grown man, a strong-willed man, and with the brown liquor coursing through his veins, that strong will led him to the woman's apartment to fit himself inside her with her legs squeezed around his waist and his lips on hers as she let him sip more of her pretty moans as he made her cum.

When she moved her lips to his neck, Jon heard himself moan, too, and felt himself get lost in her tight, wet, and bizarrely cool depths and now her kiss as she found a spot on his skin to suck deeply.

"Goddamn, girl," he moaned again as he thrust even deeper, her odd temperature not hindering his climax creeping up on him, gripping her waist for support as she gripped his naked back with nails scratching at his skin. Her teeth gently scraped his throat where she kissed him, as well, before they nipped a little hard. He cursed again and again, louder, when she bit him harder, a white-hot pain unlike any he'd ever felt shooting through his body when his sloshed brain caught up to the fact that her teeth penetrated his flesh.

Jon tried to stagger up and off of her but she was all of a sudden strong and stronger than him, pinning him to her body as she sucked from his neck with such force he felt lightheaded instantly. His throaty, orgasmic cries spiked into gurgling cries for help as blood filled his mouth, blood that she licked from his lips when it spilled before she continued at his neck. He worked to tear himself away but it was futile as this random bitch had him trapped and, worse yet, he felt dizziness travel from his foggy head and through his limbs where his strength rapidly teetered off.

He had never hit a woman in his life but with his remaining consciousness, he tried to choke her and fight for his life—life that he felt swiftly drain from him and into her mouth, the sounds of her eerily satisfied moans resounding in his ears as every other sound and color in the room dissipated into haunting nothingness. Nothingness he didn't want to meet as it effortlessly swallowed him up against his will.

"Jon."

"It's Jon, ain't it?"

"Get up, baby. Please. Come to me."

He heard her voice beyond him somewhere in the nothingness, her voice that was not Imani's, not his girlfriend's, and he became desperate to cry, scream, and curse at it as if this was the afterlife, he knew he had been sent to hell.

It had to be hell if that woman, that fucking creature, was here, had to be with the distant screams he heard all around him, and yet he was awfully frigid, his body throbbing with the coldest chills and the sharpest pain that kept him frozen wherever he was, his strength still seemingly absent from his body that felt like ice. 

Yet when he finally gathered the willpower to slant open his eyes, Jon saw the interior of her bedroom again. The same moonlight billowed through her lavender curtains. The same pearl-white fan that spun lazily from the ceiling. The same round lips attached to that woman, that creature, who stared at him strangely and made him want to run for his life, especially as those lips that were once moist with her red lipgloss now crusted over with flakes of dried blood. His blood.

But he could only move his eyes, eyes that hurt like hell to open wider in fear to take in the monster that greeted him to hell.

"Yes, you're dead. But not really. But you mine now, baby. I'm so glad it worked. I'm glad you're up." She lept from the bed to leave Jon paralyzed on it as his eyes struggled to follow her. Another freezing chill shook his body, the pain so excruciating that a whimper slipped from his throat yet stopped short of his lips that he couldn't open. 

"You cold? That'll pass soon, I think. Then you should be able to walk again," she said with a toss of her hand in the air as she breezed out of her bedroom. She returned with the breeze, a speed Jon didn't truly recognize as speed but as her disappearing and reappearing with a young, lanky, white man, no older than 25-years-old, writhing in her arms, his screams sounding just like the ones he faintly heard when he woke up. And yet the woman put him to sleep, her hands snaking around his neck to twist and silence his agonized cries like they never existed. 

Jon wanted to cry from the horrendous sight and the cruel sound...but something about the way the man smelled made the pain in his body throb with new intent—not just pain like he was injured, but pain like he was starving.

"You need to drink. That'll help you heal faster. Here." She was at her bedside in the blink of an eye, holding the man like he weighed nothing, gripping him by his short, blond hair as the rest of him tumbled to her carpet, shoving his exposed neck up to Jon's lips.

Thick tears dotted his eyes as he realized she wouldn't do to the man whatever she had done to him, leaving him for dead and making those tears seep from the corner of his eyes that he could only dart in every direction as he tried not to look at the man's jugular vein that seemed to call to him, tried not to inhale whatever that metallic, yet sweet scent was that still surged in that vein.

"Drink. Or else you'll die." 

The woman pressed his neck to Jon's mouth, and he felt his gums sting with new teeth that achingly and slowly sprouted from them, teeth that he felt pinch his bottom lip before he reluctantly opened it. His strength gingerly returned only to carefully crane his neck for a better angle to taste the man, taste his blood, the peculiar and horrifying pleasure flowing into his mouth as his tears flowed down his cheeks, forcing a grunt from him as he let the blood slide down his throat.

"That's it, baby. Drink. He's all for you," the nameless creature cooed as Jon's eyes burned with bloody tears, his throat burned from the hot blood, and yet he could not stop. A silent prayer flickered through his mind for the man as he did not deserve this, he did not deserve his life and blood stolen, and yet Jon could still not stop, grunting and gulping and making himself full and sick even after he was certain there was not a drop left in him.  

"I'mma get rid of him, feed, and come right back." She stood and hoisted his wilted corpse onto her shoulder and reached down to caress her fingers along Jon's bottom lip which was wet with blood before she said softly, "When I get back, I promise I'll tell you everything. Just know that I'll never abandon you and you can never abandon me...we belong together now, baby."

Her name wasn't Imani. The creature. It was Nika. The monster. She was his maker and he was her hostage. Three days and three nights passed since she made him over like her. A creature, a monster. He had regained most of his strength back by the third night and was able to flit around her apartment, his prison, his hell, like a moth trying to find the light—yet he was unable to leave when there was light outside, her heavy curtains drawn shut during the day that when he tried to open them, his skin sizzled like someone threw fire at him.

And he was unable to leave at night, Nika still much stronger than him, even as a newborn herself but with more time to grow into her new, cold body that possessed powers Jon felt trying to unfurl in his yet he fought it, fought his being, his lust for blood, only fighting to fucking get away from her back to his family.

His girlfriend left to fend for herself and their 3-year-old son, Jon Jr., left to worry about why Daddy never came home, left to wonder why he didn't care enough to call...never to know it was because he cared too much about getting his dick wet.

"You'll never see them again. You can't. You'll kill them on accident. Bet," Nika uttered when she blocked him from her front door. Then she approached him with her hands on his face, hands he shoved away with all his might that might as well have been to the wall the way she stayed planted to the carpet. She reached for him again, her nails digging into the skin of his cheeks as she whispered on his lips, "Forget 'bout them, baby. You mine now, Jon. I was so lonely but then God gave me you...and you got me. We'll never be lonely again."

Jon wasn't having it and wasn't going out with a fight, all the fight he willed in his muscles he used to break free of her grasp once more, ripping her door off its hinge before he flew into the black. The stars and moon twinkled above with no pity on him to hide his frantic bursts of speed he could barely control as he ran, only illuminating him as he prayed no one saw him, and that he didn't accidentally hurt anyone who got in his way, the aromas of their blood wafting from miles and feet away that tempted him to run to it instead of home to see his family.

"Jon!"

Nika wasn't far behind him, closing in, her bare footsteps, from being in too much of a hurry to follow him that she neglected shoes, barely touching the asphalt of the empty street, she was so fast. Faster than him. Surpassing him. Jon cried out as he led her right to his home and watched her sniff the humid air before she lept into it, his eyes bulging in awe and terror to witness her land on her feet on the third-floor windowsill that belonged to him and his family's apartment.

He had only a tremor of a heartbeat, an odd feeling when his soul, or what was left of it, shook with such fright as he dashed inside, not needing to smell the air to find his floor or differentiate Imani and Jon's blood as he recognized it as if he'd always known it, even smelling traces of his own blood in his son. Yet when traces of their blood littered the air, their blood-curdling screams hanging in it, as well, Jon kicked down his door to see perfectly in the near pitch-black living room Imani and her lifeless, brown eyes watching heaven as she lay broken on the tile floor, red pouring from her chest and glistening on the matte finish.

Nika crouched by her body among shards of glass and red, her hands smeared with it and her face with red tears as she shouted at Jon who stood with dread so heavy it nailed him in place, that same dread shouting at him, too, that he was too late, that his son had suffered the same as his mother.

"Jon! Look what you fuckin' made me do!"

"I told you couldn't see them again. I fuckin' told you!"

He was too shaken to speak, too heavy to move, too livid, too destroyed, too weary, too harrowed to do anything but listen to the silence that Nika filled with her laments for him and, somewhere in the distance, though he heard it like it was already here, police sirens.

"Jon, please! Come with me, please!"

Jon blinked and in that same blink, he saw himself cracking a leg off of the wooden coffee table behind Nika, watching it falter on its side before he cracked her spine with the shrapnel, watching her falter on top of Imani's body as her blood erupted from her along with her surprised gasp and shriek before he wedged it deeper and through her chest. He had no reason to believe it would work, no reason to believe vampire lore created by humans was nothing more than lore.

But Jon had one reason to yank the makeshift stake out of her back to flip her over to the tile and stab her again and again and again, her blood painting his face and her body ceasing to move from his first strike.

And as the police sirens and their tires screeched to a halt in front of his building where he heard the cacophony of screams, murmurs, and whispers, he fled the remnants of his home and his family, never to see again, with his one reason that he would never forget: He had no one. Nothing. And it was all his fault.

Present day...

The glass of Coke should have dripped with condensation as the ice had tried to melt in the warm room, yet Jon's cool hand around it kept his drink perfectly chilled before he brought it to his full lips for a tiny sip. He wasn't a fan of soda but water tasted worse. Coffee was better. And even though he was tucked away in a booth at a bar, he didn't care for the taste of alcohol, either.

He hadn't drunk in almost a decade, not since that night that ruined every night that followed it—every night that he spent alone with only the memories of Imani and their son, their faces, their smiles, their laughs, their screams, their cries, their last breaths.

The R&B music in the bar was quite loud but it couldn't drown out his thoughts that were always louder, always reminding him why he owed a great debt to humankind, the kind he had forsaken with his family as his original iniquity. A debt he paid with his duty as a seasoned vampire bounty hunter, the seasons growing warmer, then colder, all while he never grew older, but his bounty grew larger.

It was why he stayed stationed in University Park, a small, suburban neighborhood where he and his mates had slain the vampire that roamed it. He could sense the presence of a few others in the area, but they were well-hidden and well-behaved, causing his team to hit the road for the next hit...yet Jon had circled back as he still felt unsettled. 

That debt he believed he owed personally to Nyma, especially after he shattered her world with the news that her friend, and likely lover, Stephon murdered her husband and left town without a word of it to her. The lie he created to deliver that news was one Jon regretted instantly, but he could not tell her the truth. Humans were not allowed to know of his and Stephon's kind. And their kind certainly weren't allowed to harm said humans.

Yet Jon knew he had harmed that human woman with his duties and his words, something that tried to shatter his heart. He sipped his Coke again and licked his lips, tucking his hands in his armpits before he rested his elbows on the glossy, wooden table and shook a bit, his denim jacket providing no warmth as his body underneath it was too cold. He didn't shake for any reason other than studying Nyma as she rose from her stool at the bar to walk in his direction. He didn't want her to see him, didn't want to have to lie to her again, but he felt the need to be here, to observe her.

His mates had already cursed him out from A to Z for bothering with "the mortal," blowing his cell phone up the last week he'd been in Texas, but he was thankful that even in their annoyance with him, they were just as loyal to him and didn't rat him out to the Leige, their bosses and central government of all vampires. Jon knew they could handle a few missions without him while he completed his own: Keep Nyma out of further harm's way.

Maybe it was because of her brown skin that shone similar to Imani's, even her afro coils the same density as they fell around her slender face. Maybe it was because of her soft voice that had a Southern twang to it that wasn't from this area, intriguing him and also worrying him as it slurred with her fifth shot of Hennessy. Or maybe it was because of her trying to order a sixth shot, one that the bartender poured for her when they should have cut her off, especially since Nyma seemed to be trying to drink herself to death as she came to this bar every night he'd been here to watch over her.

Jon watched her now as she struggled on her feet to the restrooms near him, but she did not see him, the shadows of the corner he sat in giving him a full view of the bar but very little of him. Not that she would have noticed him, anyway, the way she ran into the restroom door before struggling to open it, discovering it was locked, and wobbling her way back to her seat to down that shot that waited for her on the counter.

He sighed and shook his head, hating to see her like this, hating that this divine chaos was his fault. He didn't know this human, but he would get to know what it took to protect her from herself, from more of that divine and chaotic mess she was oblivious to. Then he would leave her the right way, not broken like the other day, but healed.

It was the very least Jon could do after devastating his home all those years ago and now hers, too.

With another displeasing sip of his soda, Jon glanced at Nyma from across the room before whipping out his phone from his jeans pocket to scroll through and look busy. He didn't have any active social media anymore or any contacts in his phone he could call besides the work-related ones as he lived to work and worked to live. However, he would be a liar if he said he didn't miss it, miss the simple life of texting his homeboys, posting pics on Facebook, and tagging his family in cute memes he shared on his Wall. The life he had before. 

Jon simply thumbed through a Google newsfeed page, his eyes glossing over it all as he refused to scroll through his old apps that captured all the moments of his life before, apps he only kept as mementos as it was too painful to look at.

Instead, his eyes flashed to Nyma to look at her again as she hobbled down from her barstool a second time. He figured she was getting up to try the restroom one more time, yet when her deep brown eyes locked on his with curiosity, Jon slightly shook with that invisible chill to be caught.

He didn't know how he would explain to her that he, a friend of her friend that she had never met before earlier last week, was suddenly in a bar minutes from her home and staring at her off and on.

But as she made her way to him, their gazes still curiously stuck on each other, Jon discreetly sucked his teeth as he quickly thought of another, and unfortunate, lie to slither through them. 

A lie to help her sleep at night. A lie to protect her. A lie to hopefully keep her alive.

.

.

.

Thanks for reading! 🖤

a/n: I promise you the next chapter is going to be a lot softer and sweeter cuz WHEW I know this one was a doozy. I appreciate you making it to the end! 🫶🏾

Tagging: @visionarymode @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @vebner37 @dreamsinfocus @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @jeyusos-girl @nayys-world @msbigredmachine @purplehairgawdess @mohawkmama @po3ticb3auty @alyyaanna @murrylove @papireigns-05 @vintage-pvssy @bebesobrielo @urasunflower @seeingstarks @555sage @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @theninthwonder @tabletheofhead @venusesworld @ariieeesworld @sassginaswanmills @theglamclosetsl @baeusos @2-muchsauce @empressdede @woahdude9481 @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @twocentuar @claymorexpunisher @alichesmi @eclectic-tee @brwnsugababe @joannasteez @whatdoeseverybodywant @puppetmastermya @caramelcleopatraa @femdisa (If you'd like to be added or removed from this series' tag list, let me know!)

[dreamaruu]

Thinking about all of our Simon & Betty lore, I have convinced myself that F&C is not going to conclude with a magic cure all for them to happily share their love for the rest of their lives (natural or not).

I could talk in circles about this all day but I think all I need to share is this clip.

Their relationship wasn’t toxic. It wasn’t miserable. They loved each other so much, TOO much, and due to that love personal desires fell by the wayside. Betty put everything on hold for Simon and was more than willing to always be the one to take charge. Simon is capable and ever loving, but not always the brightest when acting in the moment and occasionally dips out completely.

I’ve been blinded by optimism that we might finally see them happily together, maybe even see their wedding come to fruition 🥺✨ But Betty has ascended to the ultimate form of independence. The crux of everything they’ve ever studied, every question or artifact they may have ever had is now known to her. If she is still conscious in Golb she’s had a decade to be off on her own unconcerned about Simon. Meanwhile Simon has done nothing but chase and dream of being with her again. He looked to be doing as ok as possible in Obsidian, but start of Fionna & Cake he spiraled into obsession over Betty once again.

I truly think we might be heading towards a break up episode 😭😭😭 Even if we are though it can’t change the ultimate self sacrifice and endless dedication of love in their relationship, Betty’s wish.

“I wish for the power to keep Simon safe”

[jin0]

LOVESICK TEACHER [TASM!Peter Parker]

Summary : Peter lost you over ten years ago. Well, let's thank your niece, his favorite student, because here you are today, presenting your job to his class.

Pairing : Elementary teacher!Peter Parker X Reader

Warnings : 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, smut, fluff, angst, peter being stupid (when do i ever write him smart...), soulmate trope kinda, both are a little toxic lets be real, gwen in the middle but she's best girl so get off her dick and be nice, i kinda followed andrew and emma's story with that one too, creampie, pet names (pumpkin, sweetheart, baby), slight mentions of manhandling, use of webs, kinda exhibition because they do intimate stuff in the street, overstimulation, kinda subby peter, kinda dom reader, lots of cum too, slight titty worship, slight pussy job, lots of kisses and soft touches.

A/N : another one for you birdie ✨ i kinda LOVED writing that one, missed writing for this idiot 🙈

Peter Parker could never really qualify as an idiot, but in that moment, he had never felt more stupid in his life.

It all matched perfectly and maybe it was the delusion that pushed him to ignore the signs but fuck, they were screaming at him now and he couldn’t just act like they weren’t there, like you weren’t there. It had been an entire decade of longing and confusion, and now, you were here, in front of him. Him and his entire class of little kids.

“Hi, I’m here with Mimi and I’m going to present my job as a lawyer.” You said, a tender smile on your face.

All the students cheered for you, some throwing looks at ‘Mimi', the little girl you were here for. Peter couldn’t hear any of the sounds around him, completely deaf to anything that wasn’t your voice. It echoed around him, sounding so distant yet close, as if coming out of his own head. It was a familiar feeling, but it never was this vivid before, not even in his wildest dreams or memory. He had dreamt of hearing your voice again, not in his head or memories this time. It had become so recurrent that the default voice for his memories or conscience was yours, even after all these years of not seeing each other.

You started presenting yourself and what you did on the daily to the weirdly attentive children. The teacher knew Mimi probably had something to do with it, the little girl so eerily similar to you. Now that he thought about it, he had been ignoring all the tells that slammed in his face. From her family name to her personality, she was like you, in so many ways it made him dizzy. She was like a tiny copy of you, a copy that seemed to look like you and you only, no one else.

He had been staring at your face with this stunned and pained look, as if seeing you was physically painful to the man, as if the vision of you was stabbing him repeatedly. A part of him knew you weren’t the one holding the knife in this situation, he was. He’d been holding it for a decade, waiting for the moment to hurt himself further, hurting himself until he truly felt the pain. He just didn’t expect to feel the pain in question in the middle of his class, with literal children watching.

The positive element here was that the kids seemed to be very interested in your job, this was definitely due to your way of explaining it. You knew how to make a topic fun for kids, you always did. From your facial expressions to your words, all of it was fun, you were the fun one. Even back in , you had been the one to always know where and when fun things would happen.

Peter never understood how you two ended up mixing together, when your crowds seemed to be so different.

Ah… Right… He knew how. It was stupid too.

You had figured out his secret identity when he jumped into your apartment thinking to was his. You helped him fix his wounds and from then on, helped in managing life and his nightly activities.

Until the hurricane came. Hurricane Gwen Stacy.

“Mr. Parker ?”

The man’s entire body jolted at the sudden voice and slight tug of his pants. Looking down, he found little Mimi smiling up at him with a proud smile on her face. That fucking smile, even that was the same. A slight hint of mischief mixed with all the love and innocence in the world. No, not innocence, hope. The smile he recognized it from you, a smile that you always had whenever he felt like giving up on the spider part of him. You had been his little ray of hope and one of his student was carrying the mantle.

He crouched to reach her level, smiling tenderly at her despite the little knot forming in the pit of his stomach at the idea of confronting the little girl, a child you had with someone else.

Like she always did, her little hands reached for his face to hold it still, she didn’t like it much whenever she was talking and the person wasn’t looking at her. Just like you. Her pupils were dilated in excitement and he could hear her heartbeat thumping inside her little chest.

“Mr. Parker, she’s finished, you gotta meet her now ! She’s real fun, just like me !” Declared the little girl, practically dragging her teach face first towards the source of her pride.

The man chuckled, standing up and handing the little girl his hand to let himself be guided towards you. Each step he took made him feel both heavier and lighter. The feeling of seeing you again brought him to cloud nine but the anxiety of your reaction buried him under the weight of the years that separated you both.

“Titi look ! It’s him ! Mr. Parker !” Presented Mimi, jumping into your arms to be carried, which you did.

“I know love, he’s right there, I can see him.” You smiled, kissing her forehead and making funny faces at her.

“I know ! But your eyes are bad, so I was making sure !” She responded honestly, looking at you as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

You laughed to yourself and Peter tried not to laugh and collapse to the floor at the same time. More than her name, face and mannerism, she also had your sarcasm. The resemblance was undeniable now, it was too late to run away or act blind. Two versions of you were cornering him, one, adorable as a button and the other, as beautiful as and mesmerizing as an angel fallen from the sky.

Her hands extended towards him, she was taking a step to make this a little less awkward, he knew it, that was what you always did.

“Hi, I’m Mimi’s aunt, nice to meet you.” You said, in your steadiest voice.

A sudden weight lifted off of Peter’s shoulders at your words. Her aunt. Not her mother, but the her aunt. He felt such relief in that moment, he could’ve jumped in joy, but refrained from rejoicing too fast, because you were acting like you didn’t know him, and that one hurt like hell. Even more than the possibility of you having a child with someone else.

Extending his hand to hold yours, he got lost in the feeling of your warm skin, it felt good, familiar, like home. His thumb caressed your skin as subtlety as he could but the tingling sensation spreading through him at the contact made it impossible to detach himself from you. He wanted more, he wanted to hug you tight, so tight that your only solution would be to live in his skin. He was going mental, that was evident, but fuck, he had missed you, all of you.

“Mr. Parker ?”

This time, it was your voice that pulled him out of his thoughts. Your head was tilted to the side with a slight grin, the kind that said ‘I don’t mind, take your time’. She was inviting him to take his time and reminisce. Why ? Why was she allowing him this much ? She just made it more painful to let go.

“Sorry…” He muttered, pulling his arm back slowly. Your touch burnt his skin softly, leaving behind nothing but longing and nostalgia. “So, Mimi’s Aunt right ?”

“Yes.” You smiled tenderly, looking down on the little girl fussing to get down. You put her down, letting her run off to her friends. “Her parents had to go abroad for work so I’m subbing for them. The lil’ pumpkin doesn’t seem too bothered by it so we’re having a good time together. But don’t worry, they’ll be back in a few hours, you won’t have to deal with me anymore.”

The pang in his chest was back. You’d be gone soon, disappearing out into the world again and reminding him how much he missed you. The idea of loosing you again was unbearable, his entire body screaming for him to move and do something. He needed to take a step towards you, one that would either give him closure or bring you back in his life.

"You're gone so soon ? Poor Mimi, I bet she's wasn't the happiest about the news."

"She doesn't know and please don't tell her, she'll chase me with a broom. She might be small but she manages to hold it perfectly."

"Don't worry about it. I see she enjoys your company, she talks about you every day. You're like her own Spiderman."

"How ironic..." He heard you mutter under your breath.

The deep parts of him he had tried to hide for years after you were gone just couldn’t be kept hidden anymore, not when you were right there and soon you wouldn’t be. So Peter did what his mind told him, he took a step towards you.

“Can we talk ?”

The question sounded so desperate, it was as if his life depended on whatever discussion he had in mind. That desperation to discuss things, to put words over whatever you were feeling before it was too late, you knew it better than anyone. You’d gone through it first, and now it was his turn.

You could be petty, god you wanted to. You wanted to make him feel the same kind of anger and sadness knowing him had you go through. You wanted him to be as desperate as you were to talk and grab your chance before it slipped out. You wanted him to have that chance and you wanted to be the one to rip it out of his hands, leaving him with nothing. But you couldn’t .

You could’ve stood your ground and said no, getting your own personal revenge on him. But what was the point ? It wouldn’t make you feel good and it was useless. You’d been through it and managed to sort your shit out. You walked out of that cave and saw the ‘light’. Now you were fine, you didn’t need anymore revenge or closure. And if he needed it, then you didn’t mind giving it to him. Because no matter how much he hurt you, no matter how much pain he had you go through, he was still your Peter. The clumsy idiot who could save an entire building but would lose his mind if his favorite scientist looked at him.

“Yes Pete. We can talk.” Your smile was so tender, so sweet, he wanted to drop to his knees and let himself be buried by the shame he felt. You took a step towards him, entering his personal space and letting your scent drown him in. “I’ll be waiting for you after class, just let me drop Mimi off first.”

He couldn’t speak, could barely move, but found the strength to nod, his eyes tightly shut. He had never considered the impact of your absence on his mind and body. There was something about your presence that was addictive, soothing and just made everything feel like home. From your touch to your scent, you brought out the best of him, pulled him out of his shell gently and guided him through the fucked up world he had to deal with.

Without you or anything to distract him from thinking about your absence, he was back to square one. Angry, cold, distant, absent. Once the spring had passed, he was back to his winter, back to reality, the reality that he had list you without even noticing and for a while. You had disappeared out of his life and he couldn’t avoid the withdrawal by distracting himself anymore, not when his place of refuge had left with you.

What a shitty idea to share your interest with your best friend. Now he was stuck desperately trying to find comfort in the things that he had enjoyed before you but couldn’t anymore. How could he when all of these things, he had shared with you and could only link to you now ? You left and took everything that he owned and was with you.

~

The rest if the day felt like the longest of his life, lasting hours and hours before he could finally say goodbye to his students.

He was anxious, trembling uncontrollably and biting his lip in anticipation. The knot in his stomach just kept growing, taking up more space and making his entire body dependent on tiny bits of positive affirmations to reassure himself.

“Mr. Parker ?”

He jumped for the hundredth time today, looking down towards the little girl who had started this trainwreck of a day.

“Yes Mimi ? Do you need something ?” He asked tenderly, or at least, as much as he could.

The little girl shook her head, signaling for him to get to her level. He smiled honestly, this little truly was like you. He loved her attitude, confidence and certainty in her words all cramped up in a pocket size human.

“Are you in love for my Titi ?”

If he had anything in his mouth, he would’ve chocked on the spot, but instead he choked on air. Coughing loudly and fanning his cherry colored face, he looked at the child in false confusion.

“W-Why would you ask that pumpkin ?”

“Well, you look at her like daddy looks at mommy. And also, you look like Dorothy’s shoes, all red and shiny. Are you okay ?”

Dorothy, from the Wizard of Oz. That reference he hadn’t expected to hear it again. Not since highschool, when you used to make fun of him by calling him a Dorothy ‘s shoes colored weirdo. He had a tendency to blush at everything and she would make fun of him for it. At the time, he swore up and down that he hated it, but fuck. He needed her to call him that again, like she used to. He wanted her to make fun of him again.

He chuckled, caressing the child’s cheeks and pinching them, make her giggle and squirm in fake disapproval. She wrapped her little arms around his neck and he lifted her up, enjoying her loud squeals of happiness. He wasn't going to lie, she was his favorite student and she knew it.

"Mimi, i can't carry you everywhere you know ?" He chuckled, arranging her hair.

"Yeah you can ! My Titi does it, even at her work when she's very busy !"

"I'm not her thought and i'll make other students sad if i only carry you."

"It's okay, I'm fine with that." She smiled, making him laugh out loud. Yeah, she was exactly like you.

Catching his breath, he ran a hand through his hand before looking down at the curious little girl.

"I’m okay pumpkin, just a little warm. Now, about your aunt-“

“What about me ?”

Peter was very close to jumping out of his own skin when your voice appeared behind him. But the true surprise was your appearance. When he saw you, he suddenly felt like a highschooler again. After ten years of not knowing where you were, you still looked and dressed the same. It could be felt that morning but could be seen in that moment.

You always looked so different when you dressed fancy or professional, he was always left speechless, but nothing could beat your usual look, the one that maintained the memory of you as a teenager, kept you as you. The you that he knew the best and that knew him when he was still worth it, or so he said.

You and your little dress felt like a breeze of fresh air, blowing through his classroom with your natural glow. You were like the wind during one of these very hot summer nights, he had prayed for you to come and while in the back of his head he lost the hope of seeing you, when you eventually showed, he just couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“Titi in a dress ! Titi’s wearing a dress ! I can even see your knees Titi!” Squealed the little girl, pointing at her aunt’s exposed knees.

She twirled around her as soon as Peter let her down and jumped in joy when you did the same, showing how flowy your dress was.

Peter was lucky that you were too busy with your niece to look at him because he couldn’t handle what was going on in front of him. Maybe he was stupid or maybe he was easy, he didn’t know and quite frankly didn’t care. There was something about seeing you in a dress that just made his inside melt. But the main issue wasn’t there, he knew this dress because he had bought it for you. It was a birthday present, the last birthday you both celebrated together, like your tradition stated, before you both lost each other.

“You’re zoning out again Mr. Parker. And you’re staring too.”

He tried to pull himself together and get back to the real world, but when his eyes crossed yours, he just couldn’t focus on anything but you. He’d equate it to nostalgia and the fact that he was seeing you again for the first time in ten years, but there was more, he knew it and clearly couldn’t hide it anymore, he had for ten years plus.

“Titi, he was all red, maybe he’s sick !” Exclaimed the child holding onto the hem of your dress

“You think ? That’s not good. We can’t let your favorite teacher be sick, can we Mimi ?” You crouched down to look at her in the eyes, trying not to laugh.

“No no no ! Sick people have to get better! With sleep and tea, and lots of honey too! To make it taste all sweet !” She responded, smiling wide while trying to remember all the technics her mother had taught her to get better.

You knew Peter, and the Spider hero was still active. He wasn’t back into his normal human body meaning he still healed very fast and simply couldn’t get sick. You knew all of this because he told you himself and even allowed you to read his father’s journal explaining the changes in his body. And if everything had stayed the same in ten years, which seemed to be the case from what you saw in the news, he still couldn’t. He probably used his sick days to rest or go out.

Nonetheless, Peter couldn’t get sick, you both knew this fact. A part of you, the part you tried to bury after high school, was hopeful, dreaming that the red covering his cheeks was due to you and not some super disease who had eventually managed to get him. You wished he’d blush because he saw you in the dress he bought you and you promised to only wear when time would be right. It wasn’t a particularly fancy dress, more of a simple milkmaid dress, but it was yours because he had gifted it to you and you wanted to honor it.

The dress was important and so was his opinion of you. Maybe that was the reason why it was so easy for your heart to break because of him. His opinion was too important and you understood exactly how much when his eyes started looking at Gwen Stacy as if she was the only one in the world to ever breath.

You weren’t replaced, your existence was simply erased when she appeared in his life.

Shaking your head suddenly, you ignored all the unwanted thoughts dancing around in your head and you turned towards your niece, who luckily, was still busy counting the healing methods on her hands. Grabbing her hand, you smiled wide.

“Hey, pumpkin, I’ve got to take you home, your parents are going to be home soon and we gotta surprise them okay ?”

“Okay ! Are we making them a surprise cake ? I wanna make a surprise cake Titi !”

“I already made it baby, but we can make something else later, okay ? But we should leave, Mister Parker has to go home to get better.” You said, reminding the little girl of her teacher’s fever.

She looked to him before looking up at you and nodding in agreement. Peter stayed quiet through the whole discussion, happy to be able to witness you both together, enjoying the dynamic between you both. He tried to keep in his smile but it was difficult to do so, past high school and college fantasies surfacing all over again and flooding his mind quickly. He pushed them to the side just enough to be able to wave at the both of you as you walked away from him.

~

When you came back to the school later, after dropping Mimi off and dodging your sister’s questions about you wearing your ‘special dress’, you found Peter sitting by the entryway to the school, hos skateboard in hand. Some things never changed.

When he noticed you, you saw this glint in his eyes, the one he had whenever he would discover something new for his suit or whenever he’d see her. It was easy to recognize because he used to have it whenever you would appear somewhere. You wanted to slap your own thoughts, you hated every single one of them for making you feel this way. You had spent so long learning how to be happy for Peter and you were, but your heart had other plans. The moment you saw him, you started doubted yourself and whether or not you hat truly moved on. Words were easy to say when the main focus of said words was nowhere to be found.

"So... elementary teacher huh ?"

He stayed silent for a few seconds before looking down.

"You told me i was good with kids." He took a pause a'd looked up. "Lawyer ?"

"You told me I was great at arguing." You chuckled. "Mimi likes you."

He wanted to smile at the mention of the little girl but couldn't.

"Yeah, i like the little pumpkin too."

"You call her like you used to call me."

"Yup. She reminded me of you, i just never made the connection. Did you know i was her teacher ?"

You shook your head as a response.

"No... I wanted to think it was you but i thought that would be too far fetched."

Silence took over again a'd you were back to square one, him staring and you deep in your thoughts. It felt good to be seen again by him. You wished you could say you didn’t need it but a part of you was still heavily dependent on him, and that made you hate him a little bit every passing second. You were better than that, stronger too, so much stronger. But you felt this unhealthy need to be desired by him, to be craved, and you wouldn’t be okay with this kinds of emotions if he wasn’t the one responsible for them.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed him walking up to you. He was hesitant, waiting for you to push him away, which he feels would’ve been deserved. Instead, you stayed still, not welcoming him, staring into him and digging holes into his soul. It was painful, humiliating too, you weren’t hiding like he was, but you weren’t open to him either. It was a dangerous combination, the kind that made him want to drop to his knees and apologizing straight away.

When his fingers brushed your forearms, caressing your skin slowly and as tenderly as he could, his own fingertips started to feel tingly, electric. A sensation of fulfillment, like his body was being charged with something unknown. His touch, initially as delicate as a feather, pushed into your skin, desperately trying to pull out more of that electricity. His hands ran up your exposed arms and held onto you tighter. He couldn’t let you go, not when this was what you made him feel, even after ten years apart.

“Pumpkin… Look at me, please…” His voice sounded higher and more desperate than you had ever heard coming from him.

You were still half out of it but you could feel it too, the electricity. Now, while his seemed to burn through you, the one coming from you was freezing. Your entire body burning cold under his touch. Was it your body’s way of rejecting him ? Telling him that you didn’t forgive him ? That you were pissed ? That had to be the biggest joke of the day considering the fact that in order to forgive, you had to consider that you had been wronged and at no moment had you ever felt like Peter had wronged. Or did you ? You couldn’t ignore the tiny parts of your brain and heart which seemed to get along when it came to this, agreeing that you got to be as petty as you want towards him.

You wanted to pull away and he felt it, tightening his arms around your biceps and pulling you to his chest. Had he been breathing this loud this whole time ? You could hear him from so close, inhaling and exhaling louder and louder.

“Peter…”

“No. Please… No…” He knew from you slightly pleading and saddened tone, that you were going to ask him to let you go. He couldn’t.

“I came here to talk with you Peter.” You sighed, letting him pull you even closer.

“I know. Fuck…” His finger detached themselves from you, one by one. It felt slow but was quicker than what you thought.

He looked at you, pleading with his eyes, begging for an opening, explanations, anything. He wasn’t just desperate, he needed this. He was being selfish, and childish, but he couldn’t just ignore it. After a decade of refraining it all, he couldn’t wait a second longer.

You watched him drop his bag and run his hands over his face. You stayed quite while he attempted to conceal the scream he let out. He backed up, pacing in front of the door, with a distressed look on his face.

“Peter…” You tried, stopped by him suddenly turning to face you.

“Ten years. Ten fucking years without you.” He declared, looking at you with what resembled anger. “Do you know how fucking dead inside your absence made me feel ? How each day was killing me a little more ?”

You wished you could’ve said something inspiration or dramatic, like in the movies. Instead, you chuckled, turning away from him. You could feel the anger rising and this time, it wasn’t just little parts of you.

“My absence was killing you huh Peter ? But when I was there it literally felt like I wasn’t ?”

“So you just fucking leave ? You leave me behind like I don’t matter ?” He responded, his voice raising in the heat of the moment.

“So just like you did !” You screamed, your voice cutting through the air and resonating in his head.

It was the first time he’d ever truly seen you scream in anger because of him. There was something murderous in the way you were looking at him right now, like he had never made you feel anything positive, anything good. You were looking at him like an enemy and it was killing him. Because he knew, he had messed up your friendship and anything more that could’ve happened but he couldn’t help being made at you for not giving him a proper chance. If not for him or you, for the two kids who used to joke about how they’d get married after college.

You wanted things to be civil, you wanted this to be a discussion, but it was so hard to tame the younger you who had spent years screaming inside, begging for him to feel just as bad as you did. You covered your face, breathing in and out, trying to regain your composure. You could feel him get closer to you and while you wanted to push him away this time, you couldn’t . You were too tired for this. One singular scream had exhausted you, but it wasn’t enough.

“I wish I could hate you Peter for making me feel like shit for an entire decade, even when you weren’t even there.” You began, smiling sadly while he tried not to cry. “Do you know how it feels to see your best friend fall in love for someone else ? For a girl as awesome as Gwen Stacy ? I didn’t , but I learned. Because that’s how it went. And I wished that it wouldn’t change anything between us, but when you love Peter, you love with everything you have. I had to learn that I got lucky when you showed me how much I mattered to you because you loved me with every good feeling you had in you. And I couldn’t be happier knowing that Gwen got to feel this. I just wish I would’ve known that it meant you wouldn’t have anymore space for me. That’s the story Peter. That’s us.”

If the world was caving under his feet, he probably wouldn’t feel it. While you felt a weight being lifted off of your shoulders, he just felt crushed under the guilt. That was the power you had on him, the kind he tried to forget or ignore. He was a fucking moron, and had been for years. Ignoring the spider, his senses and basic logic, he could feel how much pain you felt, had to go through because of him. Whatever you felt, he could feel it, good or bad. And he had been able to for years. It was a you and him thing, freaky in the eyes of others but normal for you both.

Walking towards you, his hands slowly moved towards your face, delicately holding onto it, caressing your flexed jaw muscles and trying to unclench it for you. He couldn’t stand seeing you, his bubble of light and happiness so angry and hurt, he just couldn’t. His hands were cold suddenly and your face warm, like the sun. He could feel the humidity under his skin, he made you cry. He lifted your face to look at him and saw it. Your beautiful eyes, reddened by tears.

“No, no, no, pumpkin please… Don’t cry… Please, I’m begging you…” He pleaded, trying to keep his voice calm despite wanting to scream at the top of his lungs. “I’m sorry… Please, love… I’m sorry sweetheart… Please don’t cry, you… You can’t… You have to smile and be happy, the happiest in the world…”

You scoffed, pushing him away with a faint smile. You wiped your face and sniffed loudly before turning towards him with the same forced smile he hated.

“I don’t want your apology Peter… God, I’m happy for you. You deserve to be with someone like Gwen, she’s incredible.”

“Stop. Don’t say that. I don’t want you to be happy for me. I want you to hate me.” He sighed, looking away.

“Would that be easier for you ?” You asked, genuinely trying to make it easier for him.

“Fuck, can you stop thinking about me !? It has to be easier for you ! You matter, I don’t !” He exclaimed, trying to pull you out of this state you were in. “I want you to hate me because that’s what would be right ! I broke your heart and you wish me the best with a girl I can’t look at without remember just how impossible it is for me to love her as much as I love you !”

In that moment, you felt the air in your lungs, disappear, sucked out by his words. You wanted to believe, you and all the versions you went through before now. The past yous who tried so hard to believe that they’d be okay not hearing about him or seeing him happy with another. They were all jumping in joy, all but one, the you from now. That you had seen all the delusion and false hope and she couldn’t let herself be fooled.

“Peter…” You started, but were stopped by his eyes, warning you silently, that if you spoke a single word, he’d loose it.

He marched towards you, pulled you by the arm to have his chest against yours. He could feel your heartbeat and just how much you were shaking, not in fear but anxiety. You were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

His palm was rough on your skin, but so warm, it felt like the rays of sun that would hit as soon as you’d wake up. They burnt your eyes a little but they felt good after a little. That was Peter, burning like the Sun. You could feel how hard he was trying to give you time, to wait for you to recognize his touch and all the love that was flowing through it, but you couldn’t, not when so much time had passed.

“Don’t even fucking try and stop me from saying whatever it is that I want to say. It’s been ten years without you, and definitely more years of refrained feelings. You always told me to live a life with no regrets and I tried but that’s fucking hard when the biggest regret in my life is letting you go and every passing day is a reminder of that. Even my favorite student turned out to be a punishment for letting you go. All of you lost over temporary happiness.”

“You don’t mean that Peter.” You scoffed, taking his hands off of your face and walking away. His eyes followed your every step, desperately trying to keep up. He recused to lose sight of you again.

"Why is it so hard to believe that i needed you ?! That i couldn't go one without you ?!"

“Because when I was there, Peter, you made it clear that you couldn’t love the both of us. It was either your best friend or your girlfriend and I know you. You couldn’t make that decision and act on it without feeling like shit, so I did it for you, because that’s what a best friend does. I did what would be right for the three of us. Every second we’d spend together after you met her was about Gwen. How pretty she was, how smart she was, how brave she was. Even helping you with your Spiderman activities had become a thing for the both of us. It doesn’t take a genius to get the memo Peter.”

“And from that… From that you thought you had to leave ?”

“I didn’t just leave Peter. You made me feel like an intruder, and I love you Buddy, but I’m not going to stick myself into an uncomfortable situation just because you don’t want to lose me or whatever. Even for you, I refuse to force myself into a painful situation to make you happy, you might be worth it, but whichever part of myself I would’ve lost wouldn’t be.”

Every word you said felt a little more painful but necessary to Peter. He needed to hear this, all of it. He wished things would be different, these words would be said in any other context, but it had to happen that way. He hadn’t been the only one hurting for all this time, you’d been hurting too and for far longer. He hated the idea of bringing you pain and now that things started to clear, he knew that if he had been given the opportunity to choose, he would’ve chosen to protect you too.

“I’m sorry pumpkin… So, so, so sorry… I wish I could do or say something to make myself look better but fuck… I failed on all accounts. As your best friend and everything else. You did what I never would’ve had the balls to do and it hurts… Because I let you believe that I would’ve chosen her over you when it would always be you… Even in my wildest dreams or without me getting to choose, it’s you. And I’m sorry it took me you being gone for noticing. I’m sorry…” He declared, letting out all the shit he wished he would’ve said when he started to realize.

You walked back in front of the entry doors, sitting down and crossing your legs. The elementary teacher let out a heavy sigh before meeting you on the floor. It felt just like old times, having you both seating on the floor next to each other, doing nothing much but being there for the other. It was as silent as it used to be, adding the faint wall you had built between you both. He tried to let it be, but Peter Parker just couldn’t do that, not even ten years after.

He laid his head on your lap, nuzzling against your skin and hiding his face into the fabric of your dress. You stayed still, watching him fully lay on the pavement and turn to face your stomach. Your eyes crossed his, the man casting you a quick glance and a grin before pushing his nose into your belly. You didn’t budge, welcomed him despite the deep desire to reject him. Desire was the funniest word of that whole sentence, funny considering the fact that it was a lie.

“I didn’t want you to leave. I’d never want you gone, pumpkin. And I’ll spend the rest of this lifetime working for your forgiveness. Even if it means that you forgive a grave.”

Your hand ran through his hair and you smiled honestly, for the first time since you had joined him for this little discussion you were having. You could feel his smile again your stomach but you could also feel the guilt grow and spread.

“You’re not being fair Peter.” You exhaled, taking your hand off his face and forcing him to look at you. “Not to me, yourself or Gwen, the awesome woman who loves you with every piece of her.”

Groaning against your body, he sat up, looking into your eyes with a playful grin.

“Gwen hasn’t been in love with me for nine years pumpkin. And I haven’t for a good decade.” He declared, the small smile on his face growing when he saw your confused expression. He was a simple man, and there was something absolutely adorable about your face when you were confused. The scrunch of your nose and the frown that made it look like he had said the stupidest thing ever was a hilarious combo he missed over the years.

“What the actual fuck are you talking about Peter ?” You asked, sounding a little angrier than you wanted. You weren’t going to get your hopes up but said hopes seemed to fly without the help of a pilot.

He chuckled, smile growing even wider. His hands took hold of your wrists, pulling you to his chest, between his parted legs. It was unnecessary to the story but he wanted to hold you, and by the time you weren’t going to push him away, he wasn’t going to stop himself. He wrapped his arms around your waist after placing yours on his shoulders before explaining himself.

“Gwen left for London after we graduated high school. We tried long distance but it just reminded me that you weren’t there either. We broke up, stayed good friends. I’m her son’s god father, she’s married now. Even has her own lab and stuff.”

Your expression got even worse and when you heard him try and keep in a laugh you couldn’t stop the punch to his biceps. It hurt a little but fuck that.

“Don’t laugh, you little shit ! What are you talking about ?!” You exclaimed, glaring at him.

“It’s as simple as it sounds pumpkin.” He said cradling your cheek tenderly. If you weren’t busy connecting the dots, you’d be swooning right now. “We broke up when she forced me to confront the fact that while she wasn’t there I wasn’t missing her as much as we both hoped I would. Even before that I was missing something else though, you. Hell, I was craving you, pumpkin. I needed you so much. And I still do.”

His words sounded so distant, echoing in your head. In a few seconds, your entire personality, the one you’d built to be Peter Parker proof was shot down and destroyed completely. You tried to keep your composure and stand your ground but it was useless. Maybe it was the fact that he was touching you, or the way he was looking at you, like you were the very reason why he kept breathing. You wanted to fold, all of you wanted that. But what you wanted didn’t matter, and after a decade of building yourself into a concrete wall, you weren’t going to fold so easily.

“Fuck you Peter.” You spat, looking at him with doubt before you stood up.

You couldn’t take a single step before being pulled backwards. Checking your dress and him, you noticed the long white web coming out of his webshooters and attaching itself to you. You squealed loudly as you dropped back onto his lap and this time, were kept between his arms. He wasn’t going to let you run off again, not when you could disappear for another decade. You tried to escape him by trashing around but he was quick to grab your wrists and force you to stay still by giving you this classic look that he would rarely use but would when it was necessary. You called it “The Brooding Spider Eyes”.

“Stop fighting me and try to listen for a second.” He ordered in a low voice that sent shivers all through your body. The more you’d look into his eyes, the fuzzier you’d get inside, that was the effect Peter Parker had on you, the deadly kind. You wanted to run, it was so much easier to run from him and to hide. After all this time, you couldn’t avoid it anymore, all that growth and improvement you tried to protect it wasn’t actual improvement, just you being able to forget him because he wasn’t there to remind you.

You were still the young girl who had begged her parents not to go to her own graduation, crying, because she was terrified of seeing him. They couldn’t understand and neither could you, all you knew was that seeing him with her was killing you. They had forced you to go but drove you home straight after, before he could even reach you. Then started the Great Cleaning of your entire existence on social medias and through your friends. You blocked a big majority of your high school except a very small group, changed your passwords because he had them all, deleted your pictures together, your socials and so on.

You had erased yourself to not be forced to confront the fact that you’d been in love with your best friend.

“Why didn’t you tell me, pumpkin ?” He muttered, his eyes fixated on your lips.

You knew exactly what he was referring to and that made you want to run even more, because that meant he knew and that also meant you were risking rejection. You tried to look away but he quickly took hold of your jaw and made you face him.

“Stop trying to look away, look at me and answer. Why didn’t you confess ?”

“Why would I ?” You responded softly, defeated. “You had a girlfriend, Peter. And you talked about her as if she was the brightest star in the universe. You told me about how great she was before you even told her you liked her, that was enough for me to understand that I wouldn’t stand a chance against that kind of love. And I know you would’ve tried to figure out the best solution to accommodate everyone, which would end up with you unhappy so I took the decision on my own.”

When your explanation finished, you tried to hide within yourself, lowering your head and turning it away from his. He kept your wrists tightly held while he searched your eyes softly, he needed to look into your beautiful eyes and see for himself, see the pain you’d been hiding from him for years. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, he knew that, but he was your best friend, you were his too. Hell, you were his everything, he should’ve known, and either you were the greatest pretender known to man or he just didn’t pay attention to you well enough, and he refused to believe that, because all Peter ever did was pay attention to you.

Blinded by your existence and borderline desperate to feel you at all times, he needed to observe you to be happy during the day, to see you well and smiling, otherwise he’d ruin whatever stood in your way, and that’s was what he thought was normal. Yeah, he clearly wasn’t the smartest and it took him years, but he knew as soon as you were gone that you weren’t just his best friend.

He closed his eyes and slid a hand behind your neck, delicately holding you still. The other reached up to your cheek, cradling it tenderly while his nose rubbed against yours. Never in his life had he wanted to see into your eyes more. The air in his lungs was gone, replaced by this unhealthy need to have you look at him. The years of ignorance started to pile up and he just couldn’t help the feeling in his chest. The kind of feeling that screamed to be explored, let out and exposed to the world.

“Pumpkin, please…” He pleaded, kissing your cheek softly.

You were moving out of his way but your body needed him to kiss you more, you wanted him to love you like this, just a little more.

“Stop…” You muttered, feeling his breath on your neck.

“I can’t… Don’t ask me to stop, please…” He said, rubbing his nose against your jaw.

There was something so intimate about the way his was searching for you, desperately waiting to be allowed in your space again, not just o’ the outside but on the inside. After ten years, you still brought him down on his knees, acting like a touch starved infant.

When you lifted your head, trying to save your own pride and avoid his lips, he did the same, forcing you both to face the other. He let out an exasperated breath, his eyes closed and his expression showing the inside pain he tried to hide. Both your forehead held against the other, you closed your eyes softly, turning away from him but keeping your faces close. When he thought you’d run again, he felt your hand on his cheek and suddenly could breath again. When you kissed his cheek, like you used too when you both very clearly needed this kids of intimacy, he smiled. The honest, goofy smile he was rarely showing these days.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered, finally giving in to whatever was pulling you to him so hard.

You kissed his cheek again, slowly going down to his jaw and his neck. Maybe you shouldn’t go so far after pushing him away so much, but Peter wasn’t the only one craving the other. You needed him just as badly. And he most likely wasn’t going to push you away, not when the feeling of your plump lips on his skin just made his heart stop a little more each time you’d kiss him.

When your hand ended up in his hair, playing with the brown locks, he knew he would do anything you told him. He was yours to play with right now, just like he was back then. He couldn’t stop himself from needing more but he’d start by taking everything you gave him like the greedy bastard he was.

“I’m sorry Spidey…” You repeated, kissing his chin.

There was absolutely nothing platonic about that, and maybe if you weren’t so fucking stupid you would’ve noticed earlier since you’d been doing this kinds of stuff for years. Everything was familiar and it still took you a decade to notice the very obvious situation you were both in. You truly were a match made in heaven.

His hands dropped down, freeing your wrists and instead, taking hold of your waist. Even that, he couldn’t do for long, too weak in the knees to hold you as strongly as he wished. There had to be some kind of magic in the way you touched him because his entire body suddenly felt like cotton candy.

You held his face and pulled away, ignoring the displeased growl coming out of him. You looked at his face, admiring it and swallowing back tears. You needed that man more than you needed air and you couldn’t ignore that fact any longer. You hated it, hated love and being so desperate and dependent on him but you couldn’t help it, clearly you had no control over anything anymore. You were working on autopilot.

“Kiss me again, please…” He asked, his voice so soft and polite, you swooned internally.

“I think we should talk instead…” You smiled, tenderly.

His eyes opened wide, a frown draw on his face. He looked funny and you knew that’s exactly what he was aiming at with the fake offended look. When he smacked his hand on his chest dramatically, you couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Oh ! So, now you want to talk ? After I practically had to bed you to just look at me ? Okay, princess. Let’s do it your way then, fuck me and what I want right ?” He sassed, looking around dramatically.

When your laugh resonated louder, he felt peace all over again. Nothing could calm him better than your smile so the power of your laugh was godly. He grinned when you tried to catch your breath, but instead practically fell to the floor. Thanks to the quick reflexes, he caught you by the front of your dress and pulled you to his chest.

“I’m sorry ! I just… I just couldn’t… Handle talking to you ? I don’t know… We haven’t in so long and suddenly everything was going to go back to normal… I couldn’t handle that… What if we talked and you realized how awful I was and am still now ?”

“Awful ? Pumpkin, don’t worry about being awful. I just pulled every toxic trick in the book to get you to look at me. And I couldn’t most likely do ten times worse if it means having you talk to me. You made me a desperate man, sweetheart.” He nodded with a playful smile.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and grinned. This felt right, peaceful, like it used to. But there was still a little bit of things that needed to be discussed first.

“Peter, You’re aware that I’m in love with you right ? Like, romantically ?” You asked, hesitant and slightly anxious about the question all together.

“Yeah I’m aware.” He responded tilting his head to the side. “Thank God, you are. Otherwise our relationship would be very awkward, pumpkin.” He smirked.

You smiled but froze when you heard his words.

“Relationship ? Like you and me ? Dating ? Like a couple ? Like people in love who hold hands and kiss and go on dates ? Like, actually dating ?”

The whole babbling was adorable and he wanted to stay looking at you in silence while you just kept talking but he needed to clear things up first. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him with a smile that said just enough. The kind you’d give to someone you loved more than a friend and definitely more than a person you liked.

“Pumpkin, listen to me and listen to me well.” Taking your face in his large hands, he kissed your forehead tenderly. “You’re my girlfriend and you’ll become more soon enough too. I’m not letting you run away from me again. Yes, this is a romantic kidnapping. Yes I intend on marrying you one day, if you’re not tired of me by that time. But yeah, we’re together in all senses of the term. In an actual romantic relationship.” Each word was separated by soft kisses all over your face, from your forehead to your cheek. He made sure to make you plead for more by kissing the corner of your mouth and your neck. Peter knew how to make you weak too.

“You’re okay with being my boyfriend, Pete ? I have a tendency to run, and I’m pretty fast.”

“I’m faster than you.” He responded quickly.

“I have issues with choosing myself too, I tend to put others first.”

“Great, I get to put you first instead. But we’re going to work on that whole people pleasing thing you’ve got going on.”

“I’ve got a niece who bites and protects me like I’m made of gold too.” You added, remembering events between your exes and your little niece.

“Oh really ? You’re pulling the niece card ?” He asked playfully. When you nodded with a large smile, he kissed your neck. “Good luck with that sweetheart because your niece loves me. She gives me a piece of the deserts you bake her every time she has some. Practically sure she chose me to be yours. Can that be considered a form of conditioning ? I don’t know, but I don’t mind.” It was his turn to babble, but it was more than fine, you loved it and so did he, seeing the laugh coming out of you was worth all of it.

You both stayed there for a little more, him watching you while he told the dumbest jokes ever and you laughing until your stomach started to hurt. You were back to who you had left behind years ago, who you could only be with the other. You were finally feeling the weight of lying to yourself for years. It felt right. You wanted to slap yourself for taking so many years to understand that lying wouldn’t make you feel any better, but it was a necessary period in a way. No mistakes, only fun experiences or lessons to learn from.

You were catching your breath when his thumb pulled on your lower lip, staring at your mouth with the kind of hunger he never felt for anyone else. You held his wrist in both hands while he kept playing with your lip. You knew what he was looking for and what you were waiting for too, the real question was, who was going to take the first step.

The answer was easy, you were. Leaning forward, you pecked his lips and retreated back to see him lose it right in front of your eyes. You expected a reaction but not to be pinned to the floor and be kissed with the kind of might that Thor himself would be surprised by.

Was he touch starved ? Not really, or maybe yes. But your touch was what he wanted. Gone was the soft moments from earlier, he was trying to show you exactly what your absence had done to him. One his hands grabbed your neck and pulled you to him with force, the other placed on the small of your back and pushing you forward, making your arch your back. He was holding your nape tightly and pushed his face towards yours, lips puckering before covering yours passionately. His fingers lowered, rubbing your thick thighs while his arm wrapped around your body.

He was working his lips with ease on yours, making your insides melt into a puddle at each move of his. His tongue was pushed deep in your mouth, making you moan, and you knew you weren’t going to last longur kissing like this. Not with the obscene tingle buzzing between your legs. He smiled into the kiss, knowing exactly what you were feeling. You couldn’t hide from him and his heightened senses. He licked the inside of your cheek, feeling his ego grow when you whimpered, pleading as if you were pushing yourself against him.

When he pulled away, the messy kiss left you numb and still on the floor. You were trying your best to catch your breath and settle your mind all at once. He stayed silent, watching you while rubbing his thumb over your flesh. When you felt calm enough, your eyes noticed the sign o’ top of your head that held the name of your niece’s school. Right. You were literally on the floor.

“Your brain’s still working pumpkin ?” He asked playfully.

You looked towards him in confusion.

“Why are we on the floor Parker ? And were you going to fuck me in front of my niece’s school ? In the street ?”

“Well, not at first. But now that you mention it, that could be a great idea, don’t you think ?”

The punch that followed was deserved, and he had supersenses to dodge so no excuse. You sat up while he was laughing and fixed your dress before getting up. He soon followed and looked at you up and down.

“That dress is made for you. You look beautiful.” He said, his eyes showing the kind of love and sweetness that could make you drop to your knees. You were weak to compliments but his were just different, they came from the man you loved and unfortunately you couldn’t resist those.

You looked away, hiding your smile when the man you now called your boyfriend lifted you up in his arms. You held onto him, tightly holding his neck while he laughed like he had just done the funniest thing ever.

“We’re taking a shortcut back to my place. I have a lot of things to talk about with you.”

~

No talking was done. Absolutely none. Maybe you should’ve seen it coming but you liked being delusional, it made life a constant surprise. Now, to say you were surprised by how the events had turned, would be lying again. You expected some kind of intimacy with Peter, but never that strong. You both ended up being swept away by the wave of desire you felt and were letting yourself drown, it was fine, you were drowning together.

There was something divine about the vision in front of him and the sensations born from said vision. If he could paint, or turn his memories into pictures, he would’ve made you the biggest one, kept hidden from the public for his eyes only. He was simple, to the point of being slightly stupid maybe, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to worship the very ground you walked on after tonight and even more now that you were gracing him with more pleasure, the kind that even his wildest dreams couldn’t provide.

“P-Pumpkin… Please b-baby… Please…”

He was sobbing softly, crying tears of pleasure under your mischievous smile. He was close and he needed his release but he didn’t want it to come just yet, he didn’t want it to stop, not so soon. He couldn’t hold on longer but he needed more, always needed more of you. Again, greedy, he wouldn’t deny it, but could you blame him ? You had rocked his world and left him to fend for himself for over a decade.

Maybe it was his senses, maybe it was the years of intrusive sexual thoughts or wet dreams that were just all working against him in that moment. All of these were good hypotheses for his current state but he was too fucked out and dumb to think about them clearly. His brain wasn’t processing much right now but one thing that was for sure is that he had his cock nestled deep inside you, so deep that he could see how pretty his thick shaft looked through your belly,

Inhuman quantities of cum were dripping out of your pussy in the most obscene ways, pouring down your inner thighs and other places on your body , and he was certain that he was going to shoot out more in the next seconds if you kept on torturing him like that with your pretty lips, all swollen from him fucking your thoughts and tasting his own cum in your mouth. Another thing he knew was that all that cum, he’d pound it back into you as soon as his brain would gain back a little bit of that power he had earlier, before you turned him into a literal puppet, ready to obey your every command.

He was squirming and crying more by the second, needy for just a little bit of peace but also begging for you to use him more. He was absolutely fucked, that was another certainty with you around. Less than a day back into his life and he was already going crazy, the rest of eternity would be fun for you both.

You could’ve been a little nicer and actually moved on top of him but it was your turn to have him dumb and begging for you.

“Come on, Pete… I-Ah… I know… Y-You can give me a little m-more of you… Please b-baby, I just need it… G-Give me all of it… Please…” The sound of your moans so close to his ear made him lose himself a little more.

You started off slowly, using your knees to raise yourself on his cock until it slipped out. You saw how hard it was, covered in both your cum and leaking thick droplets of more. He was full, so full, he could explode. Never had he been this aroused but that was until you. His entire body was releasing years of attempts to calm himself down with his hands in one night and he wasn’t strong enough to take it. Lucky him you didn’t seem to give a fuck about that, enjoying the whimpering mess you’d turned him into.

The restraint he wanted to say he had was slowly disappearing, with his capacity to think straight. You kissed his earlobe and bit his jaw, making him shiver and cry a little more. His own body was betraying him, searching for that friction, the utmost level of contact with you. He tried to stay still and silent but couldn’t and started moving

Rubbing your folds on his tip, you saw his eyes roll to the back of his head, oh how the table have turned. His hands were tightly wrapped around your waist but started sliding down to your ass, ready to grip on you and slam you down on his cock. He wanted that, god he wanted so many things right now. But all of it was about you.

Poor man felt like a teenager going through puberty all over again. His face was as red and a cheery and the more you teased, the worst it got. His skin was burning so much, you couldn't last long while touching it. That was what an overstimulated Peter felt like. His hips kept bucking up, trying to push at least a few inches of him inside you. Fuck, he needed to feel your warm walls or else he'd go crazy.

“B-Baby… Baby Fuck… Please, I’m sorry… Please… P-Please, please, please… Lemme fuck you Pumpkin… Please ? Lemme feel that dripping pussy all around me… Fuck, please baby, let me inside…” He sobbed, unable to stop squirming while he could feel your entrance clench on his tip.

You looked down at yourself then at him. He was still whimpering and squirming, his entire body shaking as he pleaded with his eyes for you.

You smirked before fully sitting down on his cock, letting it take all the space inside you, filling you up exactly like it should. Looking down, you could see his tip poking through again and so could he, he was definitely looking.

“P-Peter ! Fuck, P-Peter ! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck ! F-Feels… Feels so good !”

When you started bouncing on him again, fully jumping on his fat cock and letting the large throbbing girth invade you like nothing ever had before, he lost himself under you. He watched with admiration how your tits, still covered in cum from earlier, were bouncing up and down too. Fuck, his balls felt more full just from that image alone.

Tight and aching to be emptied, he could stop himself from getting more aroused. You leaned back, giving him full view of your pussy wrapped around him, sinking down on his entire length and taking every inch. Your dripping cunt was truly made for him, swallowing his dick down to the very last millimeter and moaning out for more like a bitch in heat.

His hands grabbed onto your waist, holding it tightly before he started to slam you down on his dick himself. As established before, he was a mess, but one thing he was good at was pleasuring you. No matter what, he’d always find a way to make you feel good. That night alone had been a sufficient proof of that.

At first he had been worried that using too much strength on you would hurt you, but when he noticed how much you loved being tossed around, he could hold back any longer, and he didn’t try to. He used the abilities given by the spider bite with care and if you wanted, he’d use them on you too. Today was the strength and tomorrow it could be the webs, who knew ?

“Y-You cockdrunk minx… Y-You like that huh ? Like it as much as I do…… That pussy’s killing me Pumpkin… Fuck, fuck, fuck… Please baby, tell me you like that… Like it when I fuck you stupid…” He begged, his lower parts guiding his thoughts and controlling his words.

“Y-Yes ! God yes ! Peter please ! M-More cock ! Please, gimme more ! Please !” You cried loudly, so loudly that your voice could probably be heard by the entire building. They probably weren’t used to the nice teacher neighbor bringing in this kind of company.

Slamming your poor weakened body on his cock with the strength of a bull in heat, he fed on the sounds resonating around the room. Your moans and cries of pleasure topped with loud sounds of your thighs slapping against his were the biggest ego boost ever. What truly did the work though was the sound of his sack slapping hard against your folds. Soft and swollen in contrast with the hard flesh of his balls. He was close, way too close.

Your entire body went numb, the thick load of cum you’d been begging for, invading every crevice of your pussy and oozing out of your already filled inside. Your little whimpers were the only thing that could be heard, with his own sounds. He’d never felt this defenseless before, weak to his instinct and clearly enjoying it.

Soon, he started moving his hips up and down, reaching for his end. His actions were so aggressive you couldn't even meet his thrusts or move freely, he was in control all while looking like he wanted to drown in your pussy. He was so red, just looking at his flushed cheeks and crossed eyes while he plowed into you made you even wetter. That reaction, you knew he loved it even more when his thick mushroom shaped tip pushed into your weak spot even harder.

He couldn’t avoid it anymore and you wanted it so badly, he could only oblige. He kept pounding into your spot, the throbbing head of his girth vibrating impatiently, he bit on his lip, his eyes crossed and his hands holding onto you for dear life. It wasn’t long before he came but he wouldn’t be the only one, never.

“F-Fuck… Ah, P-Pumpkin My sweet… Fuck, sweet princess… Taking… T-Taking everything from me… All that cum, all of it… All f-for you baby… All of me… Take it, take all of it…” He muttered, incapable to think of coherent sentences.

You were both trembling on the other, Peter still cumming inside you and you close to your end. He was dramatic and had he been able too, he would’ve most likely scolded himself for cumming first. But now wasn’t the time, instead, he pulled your warm body down, your breasts in his face just like he loved, and got to work.

He sucked one of your tits in his mouth while rubbing his thumb over the nipple of the other. His free hand was playing with your lower parts, rubbing on your clit while two of his fingers slid inside you. You arched your back, pushing your breasts in his face while he toyed with you. He loved that, finding put new ways of ruining you, even when you were already a mess. He’d play until you stopped him or until you passed out on top of him. A little sick, but that was Peter and you loved him exactly like that.

His fingers pushed around inside your filled cunt, pulling out to be covered in his cum. There was something about the image that filled him with pride. Maybe the way you accepted to be filled that way by him.

Letting go of your tits with both his mouth and hand, he laid it on your back, caressing you tenderly. His face went up to your neck, inhaling your scent and his mixed together perfectly. He kissed your jaw, cheek, neck and basically everything he could reach. His tongue licked small parcels of skin after each kiss, taking your taste with him. He was being tender and soft while his fingers kept rubbing on your clit. You didn’t last long before letting your sweet juices coat his large member and drip all over him. The sounds of your cries of pleasure in his ears were like music, the music he had dreamt of for years and finally he could hear it live.

~

You both stayed connected together, the poor man couldn’t handle the idea of pulling out and neither could you. Each breath you took ended up with him jumping out of nowhere. He would apologize but you could hear the laugh in his voice. He enjoyed this.

You stayed on top of him, your face, buried in his messy hair and his scent filling your senses. His face was in the crook of your neck, dropping butterfly kisses on your skin and biting when he felt especially playful. His hands stayed on your back, caressing you tenderly while his hips rolled under you. Yeah, he never said he’d stop moving, and in his defense, you were moving too.

“Hey, Pete. Do you think we would’ve ended up meeting each other again ? Even if you weren’t my niece’s teacher ?” You asked softly, kissing the crown of his head and siting up straight.

He smiled under you, his warm palm cradling your cheek and wiping remnants of your tears from earlier. He looked at you and you felt like you were the center of the universe. Because you were, the center of the universe and mostly of his universe. He was in love with you, and so were you. But no words could ever truly express how much he loved you, none.

“Listen to me.” He started, sitting straight to face you and stare into your eyes. “In every lifetime, planet, dimension, universe, whatever you want. In every single one of these, you and I, we find each other again. No matter what we do or who we are. Because you’re my soulmate, pumpkin. You’re everything to me, my everything. And I’ll let myself get swallowed by a black hole before I let anything change that. So yes, I don’t just think, I know we would’ve found each other again. We always do and we always will.”

There was some parts of truth in Peter's words and you both felt it, from the moment you met to the present. There was no way of explaining it or why but you knew you were soulmates. From the bottom pf your hearts you both knew it, because beyond words and actions, you were tied to the other. It was impossible to separate you both and doing so would never last, because you always found your way back to the other. Maybe it was fate or some kind of guardian angel, but you both knew it to be true.

You were soulmates and you had found you way back to the other again. With the help of your niece that you would both shower in bakeries. Maybe she was the guardian angel, who knew.

[harrywavycurly]

Summary: What’s the point of having a bestfriend if they won’t act like your fake boyfriend from time to time? Except this time it’s you being asked to be Eddie’s fake wife…at a wedding.

A/N: I don’t know why this exact scenario came to my mind but here we are I also don’t know if they are in love or not yet but I hope y’all enjoy, this is based off of these posts✨

-For more fake dating content look here!

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” You smooth out the top of your dress as Eddie looks around seeing if he recognizes anyone. “This is the stupidest thing we’ve ever done.” You mumble as you reach into Eddie’s jacket pocket so you can grab your lipstick.

“I think the time we almost caught Harrington’s pool house on fire is still the winner for stupidest thing we’ve ever done.” You roll your eyes as Eddie smirks at you while you reapply your lipstick.

“We? That was all you Munson.” You argue as you put your lipstick back in his pocket. “You’re the one who dropped the cigaret onto the stack of towels.” You explain as you look over Eddie’s shoulder and see people gathering around the doors of the reception hall.

“You’re the one who asked me for a smoke you asshole.” He states as he messes with the collar of his dress shirt, you know he’s uncomfortable so you just reach over and unbutton the top two buttons making him let out a sigh of relief as if he can magically breathe again causing you to playfully roll your eyes.

“I still can’t believe you told her we were married.” Eddie just shrugs as he runs a hand through his hair as you fiddle with the skull ring that’s on the ring finger of your left hand. “Why couldn’t you just say we were dating? Why’d you instantly go full on marriage?” You ask as Eddie reaches over and tucks some of your hair behind your ear.

“She asked how we were doing and I just kinda blacked out and said we were doing good.” He answers as his hand lands on your hip, something you’ve gotten used to over your decade of friendship with Eddie is how unaware of personal space he is so him having a hand on you at all times feels more normal than him keeping them to himself. “She got so happy when I told her we were together. Said something about how she always knew we’d end up together or some shit so next thing you know she’s inviting us to this because it’s a celebration of love and all that bullshit.” You lightly smack his hand when he tries to bring it up to his mouth to chew on his nails, one of his nervous habits.

“Celebration of love? It’s a fucking wedding Eddie. We are at Chrissy Cunningham’s fucking wedding pretending to be married. Do you hear how crazy that sounds?” You feel his hand slide from your hip to the small of your back as he moves to stand next to you as the announcement that the bride and groom have made their entrance.

“We act like we are married all the time what’s the big deal?” He asks as you shoot him a glare.

“Not in front of people we actually know.” You snap as his hand slides a little lower making you smack his chest. “Now is not the time Edward.” Eddie just chuckles as he gives your ass a light pat before he pulls you closer into his side.

“We know exactly one person in this room sweetheart and it’s the bride so I think we’ll be okay.” You let out a huff as you feel his lips press into the side of your head, you know to everyone watching this little interaction looks like a cute moment between a couple, not two bestfriends.

“Isn’t this weird for you? You’ve loved her since like middle school and we just watched her get married and now we’re about to eat horrible food and get drunk off cheap booze at her reception.” You lean into him a little as you wrap your arm around his middle. Eddie just laughs and shakes his head making some of his hair fall into his face.

“First off it was a crush don’t be so fucking dramatic so no, it’s not weird and secondly the food might not be that bad.” You just laugh as the two of you watch Chrissy maker her way through the crowd of people, slowly getting closer to the two of you.

“So how are we playing this then? Are we newly married and still grossly in love? Or have we been married for like five years and everything you do annoys me?” You ask as Eddie’s grip on your waist tightens as Chrissy smiles at the two of you as she heads straight for you.

“A mix of both? I’m annoying but you love me.” He answers as he leans over and places a kiss to your cheek making you smile.

“I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see the two of you together.” You just smile and look at Eddie who’s already staring at you with a small smirk on his face.

“Well you know everyone has their breaking point and I think after the tenth time he asked me out I finally just had to give in to the begging.” You feel Eddie’s fingers dig into your waist as you reach over and pat his chest making Chrissy laugh.

“But look at us now honey.” You internally cringe at the petname making Eddie smile as he looks from you to Chrissy. “Happier than ever.” Chrissy just claps her hands together and lets out a little squeal and before either of you two can react she’s throwing her arms around you both.

“I just knew you two would end up together. It’s always been so obvious how perfect you two are for each other.” She gushes as she pulls away, you toss a glance over at Eddie seeing how he’s handling the situation and you feel yourself blushing when you see he’s looking at you with a small smile on his face.

“Speaking of perfect for each other, you two make a gorgeous couple. The ceremony was just lovely.” Chrissy just smiles at your kind words as she looks over her shoulder at her husband.

“He’s so cute isn’t he?” She jokes making you chuckle as you rest your hand on Eddie’s chest giving her a nice view of your ring.

“Oh he’s the cutest.” She just laughs at Eddie’s teasing and you realize she really hasn’t changed much since high school she’s still the giggly sweet girl who used to let you cheat off her in chemistry.

“Well I’ll be sure to catch up with you two later. I’ve got to finish making the rounds.” You and Eddie just smile and nod as Chrissy heads off towards another guests.

“Begging? Really? The beginning of our love story is that I begged you for a date?” Eddie asks as you both drop your arms from around each other. You mindlessly reach over and brush some of his hair out of his face as he looks around for the bar.

“What would you have preferred I said honey?” You watch a smirk take over his face making you roll your eyes, he knows how much you hate that petname.

“I don’t know maybe that you couldn’t resist my charming wit or my devilishly handsome good looks?” You bring your hand up to cover your mouth to hide your laughter as Eddie just glares at you.

“You’ve been reading too much Nora Roberts.” Eddie playfully swats your hands away as they come up to try to pinch his cheek making you laugh. You move so you’re standing in front of him and loosely wrap your arms around his neck. “If you get us some drinks I’ll be nice and tell everyone at our table we met and fell in love in a super cute cliché type of way.” Eddie’s arms snake around your waist as you try to bargain with him.

“Love at first sight?” He asks as he raises an eyebrow at you as you roll your eyes.

“Sure I’ll tell them you fell in love with me the moment you saw me.” You tease as you play with the hair at the back of his neck.

“You’re such an asshole.” He mumbles as he leans in and places a kiss to your lips. “Oh fuck sorry I didn’t warn you. This couple was staring at us so I just figured they’d look away if we were being-“ You cut off his rambling with another kiss making him smile as you pull away.

“You talk too damn much Munson.” You bring your thumb up to his mouth and wipe off some of your lipstick making him huff. “Now go get some drinks and I’ll meet you at the table.” With that his arms fall from around your waist as he scans the room looking for the bar.

“Double vodka and water?” He asks making you just nod as he reaches into his jacket pocket for your crystal light packets and lipstick.

“If this food sucks we are getting pizza on the way home.” Eddie just chuckles as you take your things from him.

“Whatever you want Mrs. Munson.” You just huff as he leans in to place a kiss to your cheek before he turns and heads for the bar and you head to your assigned table ready to put Nicholas Sparks to shame with the level of cheesiness you’re going add to the fake story about how you and Eddie met and fell in love.

[chaoticbardlady99]

Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me (Spawn Astarion x F! Ghost Reader)

Chapter Five: Nisi Pellis Nostra (SOS)

Synopsis: The Lich reveals his fate for you and your 'higher purpose' after a series of experiments that leave you feeling hopeless. The Spawn Monster tries to reassure you that everything is going to be okay.

CW: Mentions of gore, mentions of non consensual surgical-esque procedures on Ghosts, basically I've been watching a lot of Criminal Minds lately, being changed against a character's will.

Disclaimer- put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. Birdie's 'image' is a stock image. I will not describe the readers body in detail- she is just merely on the banner for ✨drama✨. I believe the picture of Astarion is from @cheekylittlepupp . And then the symbol of Orcus in the back is a free image off the internet.

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all your support and love!

Chapter 4 : Chapter 6: AO3

You know you have only been in the liche’s ‘care’ for a little over 24 hours now, but it feels like you have spent forever and a day down here already. 

 Yesterday he had performed multiple experiments on you by seeing how your body responds to various types of magic. You are extremely sore

  It’s just you, Leon’s desecrated body, and the Spawn Monster. You’ve had a few exchanges with the creature as it tries to tempt you into conversing with it. 

 You want to, but it’s too confusing and makes you feel sick. 

  Aurelia had been Cazador’s first spawn and she had fought so hard to keep him from being angry with her while Astarion turned towards malicious compliance. 

  After Aurelia came Astarion and then Dalyria. Dalyria has always fascinated you with her brilliance and pension for medicine as well as modern tactics. She did not believe in the Gods nor that they would save her so she was determined to save herself.

 Violet and Yousen became spawn within days of each other and fought like cats and dogs- neither one of them willing to be the Scratch of the duo and keep the peace. You did enjoy their pranks on each other (when they weren’t ridiculously cruel). 

 Petras had been maybe two, three decades before Leon- who only became a part of the coven a decade ago. Petras' dullness had driven Cazador, Astarion, and frankly, everyone mad. You have never met someone so dense in your entire existence, but at the end of the day, he was always good. He tried to keep his intentions as pure as possible and despite Astarion’s disdain for him, Petras did adore him and considered him his brother. He had been the hardest one to crack regarding Astarion’s location in Baldur’s Gate that day so many months ago. 

 “What does dick cheese mean?”

 It’s a fair question that not even you can really answer- to be frank, you had kind of panicked when Leon had turned on you with his hackles raised. You just threw out some words to break up some of the anger.

 You want to look over at the other siblings- you are desperate to be able to look over and see them all separated- somewhere far away and happy. 

 Somewhere safe where Leon’s grief could never- would never- touch them. 

 “I honestly don’t know,” you whisper, “I was just throwing out words.”

 “It was clever,” the Spawn monster says, “it made me think of a STI. 

“Which Leon has been for a while.”

  You snort and look over, only to look away again. Your heart is truly broken for them. You will never complain about being stuck as a Ghost again- you are very very lucky.

  Astarion will be devastated, despite what he would lead others to believe, he does actually care about the individuals he suffered alongside with in Szarr Palace. He will be especially upset to see Dalyria, the one he does consider a sister through and through, is gone. He will even grieve Petras who he pretends he is incapable of tolerating. 

  You shake your head- yes, he will grieve, but you will make sure he doesn’t fall to his knees and let life guillotine his heart. The survivors' guilt will not win- you will make sure of that- and if there is a way to save the Spawn, they will find it. 

 “Is it that bad?”

  The sadness in their voice is still recognizable through the heavy slurred speech. You nod numbly. There is no point in lying. 

 “I’m sorry.”

 “Whatever for!?”

  This time you do look over and face your fears- looking her in her eyes (well Aurelia and Violet’s eyes). It’s odd how you can see how the five distinct personalities are still there all from a look or a change of posture. 

 A sudden burst of pain causes the creature to keel over and cry out- the stitches glowing with an angry red color. 

  The monster looks you in the eyes with tears. 

 “We’re a monster,” it says, “we should have stopped Leon the moment Yousen and Aurelia went missing. We suspected, but thought it was too good to be true. Leon couldn’t do this to us.” 

  You shake your head aggressively, trying to will your own tears away. This is not about you- you're not the one who has had your autonomy ripped away time and time again. 

 “You will not apologize to me for something out of your control,” you say softly, “Leon made his own choices. I wish they hadn’t involved any of you.”

 “We know,” it says, “we appreciate it.

“And personally,” this time you know it’s Dalyria, “I am grateful to you for taking care of Astarion. You need to promise you will continue to take care of him.” 

  There is a finality in their voice that causes you to release a choked sob. They don’t plan on ever being saved or fixed. 

 “Birdie, you must do us a favor.”

   “Okay?” 

 “You have to destroy us.”

 “What!?” You hissed in surprise, “no!” 

 “Please,” it begs, pleads, a tear going down Dalyria’s face, “it hurts- he will continue to refurbish us like he has been doing. The remainder of our bodies- they have been scattered around. We will never be able to rest while he continues to resurrect pieces of us at a time. 

“Last time, Petras was doing all of the talking until he became annoyed with Petras. That’s why his lips are stitched shut with silver- any talking will make his pain worse.

“Don’t leave us here to suffer.” 

 “But what makes you so sure I’ll be out of here anyhow? Maybe we can find a way to save yo-“

 “No,” it says, “there is no way to undo what has been done. 

“We can still feel his emotions to an extent. Half hysterical and racing to get here. Nervous, scared that he has lost you permanently. Cazador is dead, but our own connections are still there- faint, but there.

“Promise us that you will destroy us- every last piece.” 

   You take a shaky breath in- maybe you should also be concerned for your own survivor’s guilt. 

 “Okay,” you whisper, “I promise- if it has to come to that, but don’t give up hope.” 

  The sad smile is unsettling and full of rows of razor sharp teeth- you breathe unevenly and try to calm the galloping in your chest. 

 It may not matter that you know who they are- it’s still terrifying and unsettling to see them this way. 

 Clanging from down the hall- you can hear the Shadar Kai soldiers coming towards you. You wish you could turn invisible and hide, but whatever magic is around your cage is preventing you from being able to cast anything. 

  The lich walks into the room- an unsettling smile across his dead, rotting face. He stares into you as if he can see your entire existence. It’s been one whole day of not being bothered of him- you knew becoming complacent was a bad idea. 

  The Spawn monster protests and slams against the cage- trying to keep the Lich from reaching you, but it’s too late. Your body feels like jelly and you begin to unravel to the floor- your form is absolutely paralyzed. 

 “Leave her alone!”

 “SILENCE!”

   A ripple of red, angry magic goes through their body and the scream that echoes through the room makes you cry and your heartbreak. They just wanted to help you- you will find a way to help them. This will not be the end for any of you- you are determined to save yourself and them. 

 You may not be very big Birdie, you think, but apparently you are pretty strong for whatever reason and you know how to use Bardic Magic to an extent. You know how to use Vicious Mockery and you have a decent amount of cantrips like Firebolt and shocking grasp. You just need to break whatever hold he has on your body. You can do this Birdie- you badass bitch!

 You continue to hype yourself up in your head as they carry you off down the hallway by your limp limbs- at least it doesn’t hurt. 

  You focus with everything you have in your body and begin to chip away at the grasp the liche has on your body.

 “How very fascinating,” the lich muses as you are laid down on a stone slab, “you are rather strong and you think rather quickly on your feet for someone who died so young. I wonder what secrets I will find inside you…”

  Gods no. This isn’t happening to you- the knife begins to cut into your abdomen like your skin is butter and it’s horribly painful- the blade coated in silver and silver itself. Even if you do regenerate (hypothetically you should) it’s going to hurt and take a lot longer than you would have hoped to heal.

 You can feel the lich enforce his will on you and you are forced to lay there quietly- entirely unable to move and no matter how much you try to fight against his grasp- it doesn’t happen.

  He pulls out each of your organs- inspecting them and it hurts. You can feel him put your heart in other, dead bodies- seeing if the body will come to life. It does- momentarily, but then you begin to choke and the body dies and your heart is returned to you.

 You have never been touched before by anyone and now? Now you just feel violated. You stopped keeping track of what he was pulling out, putting in and out of other bodies before putting back in your own, and even scooping out ectoplasm surrounding your organs. It all feels unnatural and painful- you zone out.

 You are there for hours- you know because you’ve been counting the seconds in your head- trying to focus on every passing second instead of the grubby, evil fingers tearing you apart and putting it back together. 

  You give up- unable to justify trying to live through this if this is the existence you are doomed to. 

 For once, you don’t want Astarion to come. You don’t want him to see you this way and you hope he’s turned tail and ran away instead of rushing into danger to save her. Your tears begin to fall again- the Lich pulling out one of your eyes, commenting how fascinating it is that you are still able to produce tears without it before putting it back in to mend it back together. 

 You drift off into a land where this had never happened. Maybe a different time period, an alternate universe, where you are playing at a Tavern, a young bard trying to make a name for herself. A beautiful, cocky Magistrate walks up to you with life in his cheeks and blue (or maybe green?) eyes. 

 In this reality, Astarion courts you, adores you, and neither one of you is horribly traumatized to get there. You live a happy life together, you go on adventures, own a home together, and maybe even one day have children together. 

 Your parents would have adored him- you wonder if his would have adored you?

 “Lubanac is going to be most pleased,” the lich hums, “you are going to be the perfect little creature for the Morbid Maze. I know exactly what I am going to turn you into!

“Ah here it is,” the Lich menancingly smiles at you and your own scream of terror reaches your ears, “a Necroplasm! It will take another day since I have more tests to conduct, but you’ll be one of these beautiful creatures soon, my beautiful little Ghosty.” 

  It’s just a blob of ectoplasm and bones. You whimper and begin to shake.

 “Oh no, no, no,” the lich strokes your face, “do not cry little one- you won’t even remember any of this once I change you.

“It will all be over soon,” he coos, “and in the meantime- you are doing an honorable service for our Lord Orcus and his priest, my leader, Lubanac. You will have a higher purpose once again- you will protect the morbid maze and fight alongside Orcus. What a boon- I’m almost jealous.” 

  It’s a fight not to continue crying- not wanting to give the lich more curiosities to poke around with or a reason to turn you earlier-  so you do the only thing you can think of doing. 

 You fall asleep.

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

  You can feel all of your organs back in the right place within your body, but you feel entirely ruined to your core. 

 Astarion would never want you this way- used and rearranged, ectoplasm happily consumed by a lich who was constantly telling you every ‘fascinating’ detail he finds in your form as he worked. The lich at least gave you a bit more insight into your own condition- technically Donella did succeed in changing you, but she didn’t know how to resurrect you so that’s why you are stronger than a normal Ghost- you harbor some Spawn strength. 

 You went from being a Ghost, a Cat, a Person, and then a Science Project for a Necromancer. How fitting. Next? A necroplasm- unable to be saved or changed back to your original form. 

 “Are you okay?”

   You look numbly in the direction of the Spawn Monster and their eyes look worried for you- your eyes are filled with angry tears, you can barely see them through your vision. 

 “No,” you choke, “I feel violated. I feel….

“I feel unworthy,” you whisper, admitting it outloud, “I feel disgusting.” 

 “We understand,” the spawn monster gives you a smile, “but you are going to get out of here and that will never happen to you again.”

 You just shake your head, crying harder.

 “I don’t know if I care anymore,” you sob, “I don’t want to go through that again- I can’t. He’s going to change me into, into-“

  One of the creatures he showed you slimes by and it eats up the dripping ectoplasm on the ground like a starved dog- bones being stretched apart. The creature looks you in the eyes as if it knows and it lets out a wailing scream. You barely scoot out of the way in time before it’s limbs make it through your cage- a starving look in it’s eyes.”

 “Shhhhh,” Dalyria’s voice soothes you, “you won’t go through it again- you will be okay. He’s coming as fast as he can.” 

   The spawn monster, as horrific as it is, leans up against the part of the cage that is close to yours- offering a hand. You crawl over and reach for it like a child- the creature, the remainder of people you care for, try to soothe you by running their thumb over your hand and keep telling you it’s going to be okay. That you are not allowed to give up any hope. 

  And that Astarion is on his way. 

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

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)

Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan @beepersteeper

Special thanks to @davenswitcher thank you for helping me brain storm 💜

[violetganache42]

Ooooh, boy. This has been an announcement I have been dying to share for almost a year now, and I think this is the perfect time to make it because I'm not joking when I say this:

I'M GOING TO LAS VEGAS AND CALIFORNIA FOR THE FIRST TIME!

Okay, so there is a funny story on how that happened. One day during the spring last year, Mom was looking at dates for us to go see Garth Brooks in concert again and saw that he currently has concert residency in Las Vegas. Despite the initial debate on whether we should go or not considering the huge distance between there and our home, she ultimately bought the tickets for it because we've never been to Vegas before. And that's just only the beginning. lol

Later that same year, during the summer, Mom and I were running errands and talking about our upcoming trip to Vegas. She mentioned how this was gonna be the closest she'll be to California; it's her birth state and the last time she was there was a few decades ago, so she couldn't not go visit there again. Not even a second later, I simply replied, "✨Disneyland~.✨" Pizazz and all. XD She immediately said that she didn't even think of that at all, which had me laughing, and it quickly led to our trip becoming full-fledged family vacation plans. The planning was a gradual process because at the time, we were more focused on our second Orlando vacation in September and me staying with my older sister in Milwaukee from late December to mid-January while Mom was in London and Paris. With all of that out of the way, we've been finalizing our Las Vegas and California plans for the past few months; now, I can officially say we'll be on vacation from Apr. 24 to May 4.

I still cannot believe this is actually happening! I never thought I would end up going to the other side of the country for anything. And lemme tell you, there are a number of things I am already looking forward to checking out: the sights of Las Vegas, the Grand Canyon, going to Toontown and Super Nintendo World, possibly visiting Mom's birth town! I am super excited!

[atopvisenyashill]

The idea that Ned would make Lyanna marry Robert post-Tower of Joy is crazy. Ned's more likely to straight up lie to Robert and tell everyone Lyanna died while secretly hiding her in Winterfell/North. Ned would gaslight everyone just to protect her and her child.

EXACTLY.

I think people see Ned’s general patriarchal attitude and think “he’s just like every other man in this series” and in a lot of ways he definitely is! I think he is frustratingly paternalistic and has this mindset that like, a woman’s ✨honor✨ such that it exists is worth less than a man’s, that it means less than a man’s and it does lead him to do some really awful stuff! Keeping Sansa in the dark, dealing with Cersei the way he did, the way he is only ~indulging~ Arya but not actually empowering her, physically & emotionally harming Cat when she asks about Jon, these are all objectively terrible decisions he makes specifically because he falls into this trap that women are just like, Not People As Deeply As Men Are.

But also. Ned is not like other men in many important ways!! There are situations where I do think Ned would be inclined to order Lyanna to enter a marriage she doesn’t want but after the Tower of Joy? When he’s walked in and she has nearly died of childbirth, and she’s holding a baby boy she’s too afraid to name herself - or one she’s given a Targaryen name too! - after accidentally kicking off an entire civil war because of her misery at the thought of marrying Robert??? COME ON!

I think pre-Jon Snow, nothing short of Lyanna telling Ned specifically “if you make me marry Robert I’m going to kill myself” would make him pause in bulldozing over her feelings. I think he’d try to help her in his own way. I think he’d agree to live at Storm’s End for a while, I think he’d offer to foster his own children with her to make her feel more like she’s at home, I think he’d talk to Robert about doing things to cheer her up, and I do think he’d step in if he saw Robert hit her, but he wouldn’t actively help her escape her marriage. At MOST, in my opinion, he would talk to Rickard about marrying her closer to home or sending a large group of Northerners south with her. That may not seem like a lot - and it’s NOT! - but again. Even Viserys II was capable of realizing that sometimes a marriage is detrimental to a woman’s health. Ned “I’m willing to completely tank my reputation and commit treason for over a decade just to honor my sister’s memory” Stark is objectively capable of looking at his sickly sister and her newborn and go “yeah handing you over to Robert is probably a death sentence.” It goes hand in hand with the idea of Ned being an “honorable fool” that Ned is too honorable, patriarchal, and foolish to not realize Lyanna and Jon are in active danger if they go back to KL and marry Robert. Ned may be dumb but he’s not stupid‼️

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Hello! Congratulations on 2130 followers! I think your writing is amazing to be honest and I found you through the sugar daddy Joel story which I love. I wanted to make a request for your celebration weekend if that's okay? I was hoping you could do something with Joel and the song Fever by Dua Lipa and Angèle? (If you don't like that one there's a different song by Dua Lipa called Love Again thats also great) I hope that's okay! Have a lovely day! ♥️♥️♥️♥️✨✨✨✨🥳🥳🥳🥳

[a/n: Thank you so much, hon! I loved both songs but something about 'Love Again' was just screaming Joel Miller to me tonight.]

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warning: none, just fluff and love

Word Count: 375

"I used to think that I was made out of stone. / I used to spend so many nights on my own. / I never knew I had it in me to dance anymore. / But goddamn, you got me in love again." ⏤ Love Again by Dua Lipa

Joel felt alive. When Ellie came into his life, he felt like he had been stirred from a deep sleep. He had gotten so lost in the mess of the world, the mess of his mind, that Joel didn’t even realize how frozen his heart had become. Ellie changed all of that. She brought a warmth and energy that reminded Joel of who he was at his core. Living in Jackson with her had seemed like a dream these last few months.

Meeting you only added to that.

Joel wasn’t sure what being in love felt like anymore. It had been ages since he could claim the emotion. Literal decades. Sarah’s mother was the last woman he had been in love with, and Joel had been a different man back then. Sarah being born had changed him, and then Sarah dying had changed him again. Joel assumed that he just wasn’t the kind of man that could experience love anymore. Not this kind of love.

But, as he sat beside you at the Tipsy Bison, listening to the sound of your laugh he wondered if he was in love with you. A slow smile spread across his features and he lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips to hide it. For so long, he tried to ignore you. Months and months, he avoided you and kept his distance and he realized now it was because deep down he knew. Joel knew what you would be to him.

If he was stone, you were water. Gradually, you had carved a groove into his very soul. Creating a canyon that flooded with nothing but admiration and adoration. Joel knew he was in trouble, but love being what it was he found he didn’t care much anymore. 

“Is there a reason you’re staring at me like that, Miller?” You asked with a teasing smile.

Joel shook his head. “Just enjoyin’ the view, darlin’.”

He took pride in how your smile widened into a glowing grin⏤ knowing he had been the cause of it. You bumped your shoulder into his. “Keep that up and I’m gonna drag you up to dance with me.”

Joel Miller was not a dancer, but for you he wouldn’t quite mind it.

[dpsisquared]

(About the soulmate au)

...More than Sothis contacting Dimitri directly in his mind i thought more of sothis wacking the divine pulse like a faulty tv remote until something clicked and somehow he started remembering the time loops... he somehow keep doing things differently each time w different results (executing Miklan, forgiving Miklan, fixing his relationship w Felix, getting into a bigger fight w Felix, forgiving the western lords, having Silvain and Ingrid killed, saving Silvain and Ingrid, finding out even more about Anselma, etc.) until he thought he was actually going crazy and broke down to Rodrigue and Rod told him about the old legend of loog and the maiden of the wind bc he realizes Byleth's death is the common denominator... aka Dimitri's time itself is locked into her existance... and he starts to find more abour her and becomes intrigued w her... 😃

The sothis dragging him by his ugly hair was more like, Sothis fucked up and he accidentally got dragged in the time loop, whoops... SO technically not a soulmate au but they all think it is because of the legend.

So since the legend says the only way time advanced for Loog again was to receive the love of his maiden I guess Dimitri will have to put all of his efforts into seducing the beautiful fish eyed mercenary... for ⋆🌟✪✨ Faerghus ⋆🌟✪✨...

I haven't abandoned you, nonny. The problem with actually writing this is that it would necessarily include a lot of fighting lol. But I do love the idea of him figuring it out. I changed it up a bit but I hope you like this silly little snippet I wrote 😊

Dimitri could take this torture no longer. He hurried into Rodrigue's tent, drawing the flap closed tightly.

The former Duke read his mood without a word. "What's troubling you, Your Majesty?"

"Rodrigue, this may sound mad, but I am reliving the same day over and over again."

The older man's face paled, and he put aside the documents he was studying. "Reliving what day, exactly?"

"This one. We go to battle and encounter Jeralt's Mercenaries before reaching the main imperial force. But we never get past that part. After the Ashen Demon dies, or if I die, I wake up to the same day. I've lost count of how many times it's been so far."

Rodrigue was silent for several minutes, probably considering how to keep the Kingdom afloat with a delusional king.

"You're absolutely sure it's the Ashen Demon's death that causes the events to repeat?"

"Yes. The last time, I faced her myself and felt time pulling me backward as soon as the light died from her eyes. It's hazy, but I know at other times, she has killed me. But death never comes. I simply wake up to do it all again."

"Your Majesty... Dimitri," he said with a sigh. His old friend looked like he had aged a decade in the last few minutes. "There's something your father didn't get a chance to tell you. A special circumstance of your Blaiddyd blood."

"Is it madness? Hallucinations?"

Finally, Rodrigue's pained expression softened, and he gave the king a reassuring smile.

"No, my dear boy, nothing like that. It concerns your soulmate."

He scoffed. "This is no time to think of romance!" The royal advisors would disagree, of course. They hounded him about his lack of heirs daily, and he was sick of it.

But Rodrigue held up a hand to silence his protest. "Hear me out. There is a legend about the soulmates of Faerghan kings, going all the way back to Loog and the Maiden of the Wind."

"Spit it out, man, please!" Dimitri begged. Legends and soulmates? What importance could those trivial things have at a time like this?

"The Ashen Demon is your soulmate, Your Majesty."

Dimitri gave him a flat stare, waiting for clarification. But the other man was silent. "Is that some kind of twisted joke? You think I could love a monster like that?"

In some of the timelines, he'd seen her cut down Rodrigue himself with no remorse! Though, now that he'd lived the day from several perspectives, she only did that after Shez killed Jeralt right in front of her. Not that the circumstances justified the murder, but how could he condemn her when he held the same hatred in his heart?

Which is why this soulmate talk was truly unbelievable. It was just as unlikely that anyone could love a monster like him.

He looked back to Rodrigue, who seemed to be waiting for the shock to subside before continuing.

"You're aware that Loog and his wife first met on opposite sides of the battlefield."

"Yes, of course. Everyone knows that story. When Loog saw Deichtine, he dropped Areadbhar and beseeched her to join his side, for he would rather die than harm such a beautiful and talented warrior. When she lowered her sword and took his hand, the soul bond manifested."

Ashe and Ingrid loved the story, but it had always struck Dimitri as unrealistic and unnecessarily dramatic. More likely, both sides had suffered major losses, so the two commanders arranged a political marriage to avoid further bloodshed. Count Rowe had not-so-subtly suggested the same strategy to soothe relations in the West.

"Yes," Rodrigue confirmed. "That is the version in the storybooks. But the secret legend handed down the line of Blaiddyd is that Loog killed Diechtine when they met on the battlefield. The king stooped to take her head just before she took her last breath, and the soul bond formed. He cried out to the goddess to save her, to take his own life if needed."

Dimitri had leaned in, drawn to this version of the story much more than the original.

"The goddess took pity on the soulmates, unfortunate enough to be born in a time of war. She decreed that she would save Diechtine, but the descendant of Blaiddyd must win the heart of his maiden fairly, without revealing their bond. And by doing so, end the war which caused suffering for the Goddess' beloved people. The day would repeat endlessly until he was able to accomplish the feat."

"I understand, but what does that have to do with me?"

"The problem is, the goddess wasn't exactly specific on which Blaiddyd descendant, which maiden, or which war. Situations with the same broad characteristics have presented themselves more than once throughout history."

Dimitri had always thought the goddess aloof, but this information put her in a new light. Maybe she was simply incompetent.

"So this curse has been passed down to me."

Rodrigue raised an eyebrow at him. "Most people would consider a guaranteed soulmate a blessing, Your Majesty."

"What a burden," the king replied. "It's hard to believe that more than one of my forbears have met their soulmates this way."

Rodrigue failed to completely suppress a smirk. "Ah. Well, your line appears to prefer its lovers... feisty."

"Rodrigue!" Dimitri cried, blushing furiously. "To say such a thing at a time like this!"

He'd never thought of such things, not when there was a kingdom to run and thousands of people whose lives depended on him! And he had certainly never considered his... preferences.

Although, thinking about it outside of the heat of battle, the Ashen Demon was quite lovely. And her skill was beyond compare... Gods, he sounded like Sylvain.

"My apologies, Your Majesty," Rodrigue said with a chuckle. He didn't seem terribly repentant. "Circumstances aside, I for one am happy to know you have a soulmate. All of us have tried to get you to take better care of yourself. Perhaps she will be the one you finally listen to."

The man across from Dimitri may have been like a second father, but this was no time for levity! Wasn't his misery obvious?

"There's one thing I don't understand. How did Loog convince Diechtine of their love in mere moments upon the battlefield?"

"That's the other secret. The king actually snuck into her tent before dawn broke, so he had several hours to woo her. This was after many attempts, of course, each one teaching him something new about the maiden. The conversation on the battlefield was merely a performance for their troops to see."

"He... wooed her," repeated Dimitri in disbelief. "I have to... woo the Ashen Demon? In less than a day?"

"Cheer up, Your Majesty!" said Rodrigue with a good-natured pat on the back. "We already know there's something she'll love about you. We just have to figure out what it is!"

Dimitri left the tent with a tempest swirling in his mind. He knew what he had to do. It would be difficult, painful even, but this wasn't just for him. It was for all of Faerghus-- no, all of Fodlan-- so he would do whatever it took, no matter how humiliating.

He walked into the mess hall like a man condemned and mindlessly piled something onto a plate. Bernadetta would probably be horrified by his meal, but there was no time to consider something as inconsequential as food. Scanning the dining room, he spotted his target and sat down.

"Hey, Your Majesty! Look at you, eating while the sun is up!"

He rolled his eyes. There was no point delaying the inevitable. "Sylvain, I need your help... with a girl."

(Diechtine (DECH-tin-uh with the ch like in the Scottish loch) is a mortal woman that the god Lugh had a baby with. That was the mega hero Cúchullain, who interestingly is described as going into a "blood rage" during battle. Fergus (Faerghus), Ferdia (Fhirdiad), and Derdriu are also associated with this crew!)

[notebookishtype]

Hello, do you have any recs for star wars books and comics with the best lukeleia content? In my lukeleia era and I really wanna start reading some OT legends stuff but I don’t know where to start.

Stories that take place during, between, and shortly after the Original Trilogy? We are lucky to have decades worth of content set in this time period! It’s the only place we can find things published before the sibling reveal, and/or acknowledging that Luke and Leia were attracted to each other.

✨I’ve included links to every book and comic mentioned below. I don’t think it’s immoral to pirate from a corporation. If you (general) take issue with that, I have bought most items listed at least once, and I would lend it to you if I could.

✨Some of the comics are only available in large collections, you may need to scroll to find the correct issues.

Legends Books

The first that comes to mind is Splinter of the Mind’s Eye. It was published in 1978, Luke and Leia were still love interests, and it takes place after ANH. They crash land on a mining planet and discover there is an Imperial presence there.

Fun Facts:

This story was commissioned to be a low budget sequel if A New Hope flopped.

This novel also inspired some of the canon lore for kyber crystals.

I started an impromptu reread earlier this year, and I did not remember how shippy this book was. This is just four pages into the book:

Splinter of the Mind’s Eye was also adapted into a comic in 1995… and it was still incredibly shippy? I recommend both if you have the time and executive function. If you’re low on focus or time, go with the comic.

I’ve been told the novelization of A New Hope also has the same vibes, and is by the same author. So if you enjoy Splinter thats another place to look.

As far as other novels, we’re mostly looking at crumbs. Off the top of my head I know both Shadows of the Empire and The Truce at Bakura acknowledge their feelings for each other.

Shadows of the Empire:

The Truce at Bakura:

I would only recommend these if you’re interested in the rest of either story.

Shadows is a take on what happened between ESB and ROTJ, published in ‘96. Want to see how the Rebels get the plans for the Second Death Star? Read this. Want to see Darth Vader forced to play politics? Read this. If Han and Leia’s relationship is a no go for you, you might consider skipping it. Content Warning: the antagonist attempts to “seduce” Leia via pheromones. Read: rape. He is a serial rapist.

Truce takes place immediately after ROTJ, and has some great character moments for our heroes, again a lot of focus on Leia and Han. I do, however, choose to view the fact that Luke’s love interest in this book is a young Imperial Senator who we are meant to compare to Leia, through a shippy lense. I cannot escape the idea that Luke is projecting. Otherwise this book is about dinosaur looking aliens using human’s life energy to power their ships.

If you’re interested in checking any of these books out I recommend looking here or here.

Legends Comics

Splinter of the Mind’s Eye (1995)—as mentioned above.

Star Wars Tales (1999-2005) 15, Do or Do Not—Takes place immediately after ROTJ. Luke is processing after the Battle of Endor, and uncertain of his place. His feelings for Leia are acknowledged.

Star Wars (2013) 1-6, In the Shadow of Yavin—Takes pace after ANH. Leia is working with a handpicked X-wing squadron, to expose a spy. Her position in command causes friction between her and Luke. This is one of the few stories really leans into Leia having feelings for Luke.

Star Wars (2013) 15-18, Rebel Girl—Leia accepts a political proposal in exchange for a secure base location. Luke is a jealous brat about it, puts himself in danger, and plans to run away.

Marvel Star Wars (‘77–86)—I haven’t read these yet, but I’ve seen plenty of panels and pages posted on Tumblr that give lukeleia vibes, even some that take place after ROTJ. These have been gathered into several omnibuses. (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Disney Comics

Star Wars (2015) 1-6, Skywalker Strikes—After ANH, the gang is infiltrating an Imperial arms factory, Vader shows up, Luke has a crisis. The Luke and Leia interactions are primarily in issues 3 & 4, but it’s a solid story arc.

Star Wars (2015) 33–Actual Publisher’s Summary: The Hero of the Rebellion & the Princess of the Revolution! Luke and Leia finally get some time alone… Unfortunately, it's stranded on a desert island.

The Storms of Crait (2017)—After ANH. Our heroes travel to Crait, in hopes of establishing a base there. Luke is delightfully flustered by a kiss on the cheek from Leia.

Star Wars Adventures (2017) 4 & 5, The Trouble at Tibrin—Leia and Luke are on a diplomatic mission that goes awry. Leia rescues Luke in this one. Acknowledges Luke’s feelings.

Star Wars Adventures Annual 2018, Mind Your Manners—Another diplomatic mission gone wrong. Not all that shippy, but discovered it while making this list, so it felt wrong to leave it off.

Star Wars Adventures (2020) 7 & 8, The Princess and the Bog, A Twin Tale—Leia and Luke are scouting base locations. Luke is terrible at following Leia’s orders, and wants to pet all the animals.

Star Wars Hyperspace Stories (2022) 2–Another search for a base location. There are several cute moments between them in this one.

Deleted Scenes & Behind The Scenes

I know the ask was about books and novels, but I’d also recommend—if you haven’t already—searching for deleted scenes, alternate takes, behind the scenes photos and promo photos, etc. There are goodies from each film, but the most substantial stuff is from/for ESB.

Is That Everything?

I doubt it. There are many other stories that take place in this time frame that I haven’t investigated yet. Here are some that are on my list:

Luke Skywalker and the Shadows of Mindor (Legends novel)

Heir to the Jedi (Canon novel)

Heart of the Jedi (unpublished Legends novel)

Star Wars (1977-1986) (Legends comics) (mentioned above)

Star Wars (2020) aka Star Wars V3 (Canon comics)

Razor’s Edge & Honor Among Thieves (Legends novel duology)

I’d bet on there being content down the timeline that reads as shippy, but that’s a whole future post.